Bradley took off his jeans but left his soiled boxers on, letting Shay pour the wine—white first—while he assembled the wooden board. It was the one Shay had used for the photo shoot, wide and solid, and the variety of cheeses looked lovely splayed across it. He added grapes, cured meat, olives, and a chunk of honeycomb, then brought it out to the coffee table. Shay joined him on the couch and passed over the wine, grinning devilishly.
“What, we’re not doing this in bed?”
“You want to sleep in sticky cheese crumbles?” asked Bradley. He swirled the wine, sipped it, then tried it with some of the cheese. “Lance was right. This is good.”
“I was about to take off my pants until you said that.”
“I take it back, then.”
Shay grinned, set down his wine glass, and slowly slipped his pants off.
