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Dandies, Inc
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Dandies, Inc.
Dandies, Inc., Book 1
G.R. Lyons
Cover design by
Dana Leah at Designs by Dana
Copyright © 2019 G.R. Lyons
All rights reserved.
BLURB
Spencer Daniels has been in love with his boss, Dirk, for almost six years. But his feelings are unrequited, and his last workplace romance ended badly, pushing his inner daddy into hiding. Besides, Dirk is dating Jayden now. There's no point in even hoping.
Until yet another argument between Dirk and Jayden makes Spencer snap, bringing out his repressed daddy to get those boys calmed down.
Which makes Dirk and Jayden realize that Spencer is exactly what their relationship has been missing.
Spencer already has his hands full with his job and providing for a paralyzed brother. He doesn't have time for a relationship. He hardly sleeps as it is.
But temptation wins out, leaving Spencer in over his head and rushing toward disaster.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
This story takes place in a fictional world, that of the Shifting Isles and other related series. You'll find references to multiple gods, amongst other things. A glossary is included for those curious readers who enjoy a little background worldbuilding. For more information on the Shifting Isles world, check out grlyonsauthor.com.
Chapter 1
SPENCER DANIELS collapsed into bed with a groan, then glanced at the clock. Just after midnight, which meant he might get a good five hours of sleep for a change. He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes, then remembered the lights were still on.
There was no way he had the energy to get back up and cross the room. Lifting his hand, he gave a careless flick of his wrist, switching off the lights by magic and plunging the room into darkness.
Spencer let out a weary sigh as the black silence of night enveloped him. He had a string of more long days ahead with no end in sight, but he didn't have a choice. His brother, Rey, still needed looking after. And as for Dirk…
Stretching his arm across the expanse of cold, empty sheets on the other side of the bed, Spencer tucked his hand under the pillow there, feeling around until his fingers touched the small card hidden underneath. He wrapped his fingers around it and let out a soft sigh. The edges of the heavy, embossed card stock were worn from years of handling, and the corners were starting to curl, but Spencer couldn't part with it, almost swearing he could feel the words written there.
Thank you for taking such good care of me.
Spencer smiled sleepily. He knew there was nothing flirtatious about the card even though the repressed daddy in him was sorely tempted to read more into it. The card had been tucked into an envelope along with his year-end bonus check from when he'd started working for Dirk six years ago. Spencer had nearly killed himself with hours of study—both of Dirk and of Dandy Magazine—but all that effort had paid off, landing him the job despite him being one of two dozen applicants, all of them having more experience and qualifications than he'd had.
And the pace hadn't slacked since. He'd applied for the job for one reason, then wound up staying for another. The more he worked for Dirk, the more he admired the man, to say nothing of his attraction to the CEO and his desperate, innate need to take care of him.
Spencer would never get to have Dirk in any kind of romantic sense, so he satisfied his inner daddy by caring for Dirk in the only ways he could.
Which meant long hours and continued study. He had to know every aspect of Dirk's business better than Dirk did himself.
But it was all worth it. Seeing Dirk happy was the highlight of his day.
Spencer drifted off to sleep with Dirk's card under his palm and didn't stir until his alarm went off. He dragged himself out of bed, flicked his wrist to silence the alarm, then covered a yawn as he got up and shuffled down the hall. The house was almost pitch black—only tiny hints of light from the streetlamps making their way inside, sneaking around the edges of the thick curtains and peeking through the transom window over the front door—but Spencer made his way just fine, having long ago become familiar with the house's spacious, handicap-accessible layout.
He reached the kitchen just as the coffee pot finished brewing. Sliding the dimmer switch all the way down, Spencer flicked on the overhead light so he wouldn't make a mess as he poured himself a cup, then added cream and sugar. He leaned back against the counter, enjoying five minutes of alone time with his caffeine before he had to go get Rey out of bed.
Spencer closed his eyes and sipped his coffee, waiting for it to kick in. He yawned again, then set his cup down and turned around to open the overhead cupboard to the left of the sink. Stretching up, he pushed aside a box of protein bars and felt around for the little jar that was hidden behind it.
The first touch of cold glass always surprised him even though he himself had spelled the jar to remain at an icy temperature no matter how warm the kitchen was. The daevaak crystals had to be kept cold at all times; otherwise, they rapidly lost their potency. Spencer twisted off the lid, grabbed a pinch of the crystals—looking rather like red-colored sugar—and sprinkled them into his coffee. He watched the crystals dissolve as he replaced the lid and tucked the jar back up on the highest shelf, out of reach and out of sight.
He closed the cupboard and took another sip of his coffee. The daevaak didn't change the flavor any, but it made the caffeine far more effective. It only took a few sips before Spencer felt wide awake, alert and refreshed in a way that nothing else could achieve.
Thank gods, Rey didn't know he kept that stuff in the house. Otherwise, Spencer had a feeling his brother would wind up in rehab again, and that was the last thing they needed.
That was why he kept the crystals in a spelled jar rather than in the refrigerator. Rey had remarkable reach for being confined to a wheelchair. Spencer still wasn't entirely sure how his brother managed to get stuff off the refrigerator's top shelf, so he made sure to keep anything potentially addictive well out of the way. Even simple things like headache pills—to say nothing of Rey's prescribed medications—were kept in a place that Rey could never reach, but Rey's go-to had always been stimulants. Daevaak crystals would be right up his alley.
Spencer took another sip of his doctored coffee and let out a sigh. He was probably a borderline daevaak addict himself, but he made sure to go without it as much as he could manage, and certainly never allowed himself more than a pinch on any given day. He couldn't afford to wind up in rehab himself, but he needed the extra boost if he was going to be able to keep up with all his responsibilities.
When his cup was empty, Spencer rinsed it out, set it in the sink, and headed for Rey's bedroom, turning on lights as he went now that he was awake enough to tolerate them. Rey, however, was still fast asleep. The spell Spencer had on Rey would have alerted him otherwise.
Spencer let himself into his brother's room, leaving the door standing wide open so the light from the hallway spilled in. He rolled the wheelchair over, then folded back the covers on the bed.
“Rey,” he said, shaking his brother gently by the shoulder. “Time to wake up.”
Rey let out a sleepy groan and turned his face away. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled.
“Nope, sorry. You know the drill.”
Rey muttered a curse that Spencer couldn't quite make out, then tried to roll over onto his side. “I'm tired,” he complained.
“And you'll get your nap later once Irene gets here,” Spencer told him, naming the in-home nurse-slash-housekeeper who stayed with Rey while Spencer was at work. “Come on. We need to get you some breakfast so you can take your meds.”
“Don't want 'em,” Rey complained, his eyes still obstinately closed.
Spencer straightened to his full heig
ht. “Reynard Emerson Daniels, if you don't get out of this bed right now, I'm sending you back to the convalescent home.”
Rey opened his eyes only to roll them. “Fine, Dad,” he spat, but he pushed himself up into a sitting position, knowing the threat was real.
Spencer shook his head. “Don't Dad me.”
“Why not? You're bossier than Dad ever was. Besides, I thought you liked being called Daddy.”
“Not by my brother. And that's the last time I ever tell you anything about my sex life.”
“What sex life? I haven't seen you go on a date in years. Well, other than that one blind date you tried a few months ago, of course, but even I could have told you that was a mistake. You need a real date, but I never see you try anymore. Which is really unfair to both of us, I might add. I need to live vicariously through you.”
Spencer opened his mouth to say that he could hardly date regularly when he had a paralyzed brother to take care of, then stopped himself. Rey dealt with enough guilt as it was. “Come on, you,” he said instead, lifting Rey off the bed and settling him in his chair, all the while hearing Irene's voice in his head, telling him he was coddling Rey too much, that Rey needed to learn things like getting in and out of bed on his own. As much as it would make Spencer's life easier, he couldn't quite let go of the routine, though. He had to take care of Rey. His brother was all he had left.
He wheeled Rey out to the kitchen, got him situated at the dining table, then went about making breakfast. Rey muttered complaints about the slices of fruit on the side of his plate and the mushrooms mixed in with his scrambled eggs, but he ate it all anyway, then dutifully took the pills Spencer handed him.
“You know,” Spencer said, breaking the silence and going back to the last thing Rey had said, “you really could date if you wanted to.”
Rey rolled his eyes. “Please. Why bother? You know my dick doesn't work.”
Spencer cocked an eyebrow and gave him a deadpan look.
“Doesn't always work,” Rey corrected, a blush stealing over his cheeks. Before Spencer had put the spell on his brother—the one that alerted him when Rey woke up—Spencer had walked into Rey's room one morning to get him out of bed, only to find Rey jacking off. Rey couldn't manage an erection as often as he used to, so when he could, he took full advantage of it, but having Spencer walk in on him had ruined it, leaving him pissed off for days afterwards.
Even with his erectile difficulties, Rey's dick probably saw more action than Spencer's ever did. Awkward as it was to think about with Rey sitting right there in front of him, Spencer couldn't help but squirm in his seat, knowing that it had probably been days since the last time he'd had a quick wank in the shower, too busy and too tired to do it otherwise.
“You could, though,” Spencer reiterated, gathering their dirty dishes and taking them to the sink. “If you really wanted to.”
“Yeah right,” Rey muttered, looking down at his hands.
Spencer closed his eyes, muttered a silent prayer as he let out a sigh, then forced on a smile and went back to the table. “Come on. Let's get you settled in the living room so I can go get dressed.”
“I'm fine right here,” Rey said without looking up.
“You sure?”
Rey gave a tiny nod.
Spencer waved a hand, using magic to transport Rey's tablet from where he'd left it in the living room last night. He set the tablet on the table in front of Rey, then pressed a kiss to the top of Rey's head.
“Yell if you need me,” Spencer said, then turned away and hurried off to his bedroom.
He yanked his t-shirt over his head and shucked his pajama pants, dumping both in the hamper as he stepped into his closet. Picking out a dark blue, three-piece suit, Spencer quickly got dressed, thanking the gods—not for the first time—that Irene was willing to do household chores in addition to nursing. He never had to find nonexistent time to do things like laundry and cleaning because Irene did it all while Rey napped or watched a movie. Spencer made a mental note to thank her again as he pulled on a freshly washed and pressed button-down.
Once he was mostly dressed, he darted into the washroom, combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and knotted his tie, tucking it down the front of his waistcoat before going back for his jacket. He pulled on his socks and shoes, gave his reflection a quick glance, and strode over to his desk. It was tucked into one corner of his bedroom and was the only untidy thing in the entire house. Strewn around his laptop were pieces of leather, metal rings, and various tools, all of which had been neglected for months. He used to spend hours every week making custom pieces just for the fun of it, but he'd hardly had time since the accident and going to work for Dandy Magazine.
He ran his fingers over a watch band he'd been slowly putting together for over a year. It was nearly done—probably just another hour needed to get the final details right—but he couldn't begin to guess when he might find the time to work on it again. Of course, he could probably finish it in a few minutes with a little magic, but he didn't want to do it that way. That felt like cheating. So he'd just have to find the time to finish it with his own two hands.
Someday.
Not that it mattered. It wasn't like he could ever give it to Dirk even if he did finish it.
Spencer let out a sigh, picked up his messenger bag, and strode out of the room.
“Irene should be here any minute,” he called as he returned to the kitchen.
Rey looked up from whatever he was reading on his tablet. “Do you have to go?”
Spencer cocked his head to one side. “Rey. Come on. You know the routine. Mr. Cameron gets in by seven, which means I have to get there by half six at the very latest.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rey grumbled, waving a hand and turning back to his tablet. “Go to work, you big dullard.”
Spencer chuckled when he saw the little twitch at the corner of Rey's mouth, his brother trying so hard to sound irritated instead of teasing. “Love you, too, Sunshine,” Spencer said, turning away and heading for the front door.
But not before he caught Rey's scowl. His brother had never liked that nickname, but it had stuck. “Bye, Wiz,” Rey shot back.
Just for that, Spencer waved his hand and made Rey's tablet disappear. He heard an indignant yelp, then let his brother curse him for a moment before he transported the thing right back into his hands.
Spencer stepped outside, pulled the front door shut, and checked his watch. No time to drive to the office. He went around to the side of the house, out of sight from the street, and cast a transportation spell, sending him from one spot to another in the blink of an eye.
The building that contained the offices of Dandy Magazine had a shadowy alcove at the back, perfect for coming and going without being seen, so Spencer always made sure to appear there. Drawing himself up, Spencer walked around to the front of the building and let himself in, riding the elevator up to the executive floor and going straight to his desk.
He switched on his computer, memorized Dirk's schedule for the day, and started a pot of coffee. While the coffee brewed, he went through the phone messages and emails that had come in overnight, sorting through which ones would need to be passed on to Dirk and which he could handle himself.
The ding of the elevator down the hall signaled Dirk's arrival. Spencer shot out of his chair, snatched up Dirk's favorite mug, and fixed a cup of coffee just the way Dirk liked it, finishing right as Dirk neared his desk.
“Good morning, Spence,” Dirk said.
“Good morning, Mr. Cameron,” Spencer replied, forcing himself not to stare at the man like the lovesick fool he was. He grabbed the phone messages and followed Dirk into his office, setting both the messages and the coffee down on Dirk's desk while rattling off the things Dirk needed to attend to first thing before his nine o'clock meeting in the conference room.
Dirk's mobile rang, so Spencer quietly excused himself from the room. He pulled the door shut, then brushed a hand past his right ear, activating the liste
ning spell he'd cast on Dirk's office a month after he'd started working for the man.
The spell was a clever piece of magic if he did say so himself. Strong enough that he could hear the voices on the other end of Dirk's phone calls but subtle enough not to interfere with the electricity, as magic was wont to do. The whole thing was probably ethically questionable, but it allowed him to stay a step ahead of Dirk's needs. If he heard the man discussing an upcoming budget meeting, he could pull together the necessary reports before Dirk even asked for them. If he heard Dirk mention needing to get a hold of someone, Spencer could find the number and have it ready once Dirk was off the phone.
“Hey,” Dirk said, answering his call. “What are you doing up so early?”
Spencer winced at the husky tone of Dirk's voice. The man only spoke like that when his boyfriend called.
Sure enough, Jayden replied, sounding sleepy and sensual, like he was still in bed. Spencer turned to his computer and looked at Dirk's calendar again, keeping one ear on the conversation just in case Dirk happened to indicate he needed something. At least they weren't arguing like they often did, thank gods. Every time that happened, Spencer was sorely tempted to walk in there and tell them to sit down and behave or he'd spank them both. That was so far from his place that he felt guilty for even thinking it, but the constant bickering drove him insane.
Listening to the lovers flirt, though, was torture.
Not that Spencer could do anything about it. He could never have Dirk himself, and if being with Jayden Wyatt made Dirk happy, so be it.
Though the thought of spanking the two men still sounded awfully tempting.
His desk phone rang, the display showing the extension for the magazine's marketing director.
Spencer snatched up the handset. “Dirk Cameron's office,” he said, turning his attention to the marketing director and off the flirtatious talk happening in the next room.