What family? Abel nearly scoffed. He was essentially not in contact with that side of his family unless forced to do so, especially now that Teddy was in his life. All this seemed seriously too strange.

“Tonight would be fine,” Teddy glanced over at Abel. He had a significant look in his eye, but Abel could not decipher it. He would have expected Teddy not to want anything to do with a Barta, but maybe he thought it was safer to go along with it. Have dinner with the guy and then forget about him when he returns home. That was how Teddy usually handled his problems.

Abel pressed his lips together. “Sure. Where were you thinking about going to eat.”

They had already eaten at one of the nicest restaurants in town last night.

“Osprey’s penthouse. The room service is excellent.” Gideon lifted the coffee mug, took a sip, and smiled at Teddy. “This is good coffee, thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Teddy said. “Have something to eat, as well.”

“Thank you, but I can’t. I’m meeting Cole for breakfast soon.” With that, he drained the rest of the coffee in the mug, sighed in appreciation, and stood up. Abel watched him shrug his coat back on and wondered why the hell he even bothered with taking it off.

“Oh,” Teddy murmured, watching him with the same confusion that Abel felt. He always did wear his expressions more plainly on his face. When he started to get up to walk Gideon back to the front door, Abel put a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. He got up and ushered Gideon to the door.

“What are you doing here?” he asked bluntly as Gideon stepped over the threshold and into the cold.

He finished winding his scarf around his neck and looked at Gideon with that same cautious expression as if this was a hostage negotiation, not a miniature family reunion. “I just need to talk to you about something. But it can wait until after dinner.”

“I’m not even actually affiliated. You know that,” Abel muttered, “so what the hell could you possibly need from me?”

“It’s precisely because you are not affiliated that I need your help,” Gideon said. Then he smoothed his hand over the end of his scarf and headed down the sidewalk to the sleek BMW he illegally parked in front of their house. Abel watched him go, his nose and toes and fingers growing cold. Not until the car was gone from his sight did he step back inside and close the door.

Teddy was pouring maple syrup over his French toast when he returned to the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Abel asked immediately.

“I’m fine,” Teddy shrugged, then lifted a brow. “Are you?”

“Gideon is…he is not a…he’s…” Abel trailed off, unsure where to go with that thought because he honestly did not know Gideon well. All he knew were stories from his cousins about what a hard, psycho badass the guy was. Bad news all around. The exact type of guy his mother worked extra hard to keep him away from when he was growing up as a part of an infamous criminal family.

“He’s not as bad as his mom and uncle. Most of the Bartas in his generation aren’t too terrible.” Teddy said. “He has always been nice to me. But I know you don’t like that side of your family.”

“You know him?” Abel asked, stunned.

“Sure, we’ve met a couple of times.”

They looked at each other. Teddy had another one of those significant looks in his eyes as if he was trying to communicate far more than what he was saying. Abel crossed his arms. Teddy dropped his eyes.

“He was always nice to me,” he repeated to the table.

“What on earth were you doing being treated nicely by Gideon Barta?” Abel grumbled.

“Oh, come on, Abel,” Teddy pleaded.

They didn’t often talk about the time when he was with Ken, except when Teddy had nightmares or flashbacks or felt vulnerable and wanted to share. Abel was always willing to hold him and listen, but he never really pushed to hear about it. For one, it was still easy to tip Teddy over into his land of delusions where Ken was a demon, and he’d been in a literal hell for five years. And for another, hearing about it made Abel deeply uncomfortable, like sick to his stomach.

But he was already uncomfortable. Gideon Barta, who did not belong in their lovely little bungalow on the beach, had just been drinking coffee in their kitchen. They were going to go to dinner with him at his penthouse of all places. It would be like delivering themselves into the den of a lion.

“Are you saying that Gideon is one of the people Ken made you sleep with?” he asked.

Instantly, he regretted it. Teddy’s face grew red, and his hands disappeared under the table as his shoulders rounded down.

“I’m sorry,” Abel palmed his face.

“No, it’s,” Teddy sighed. “Yes, he was. Of course, he was. As you can imagine, having the Bartas in Ken's back pocket was of ultimate importance. And I am precisely that man’s type. Like I said, though, he was always nice.”

No wonder Gideon saying he was here with his husband did not phase Teddy.

“Okay. Alright. It’s just weird seeing him here and…now, knowing that. Jesus.” He took a deep breath to calm himself the fuck down because there was no need to get Teddy worked up too. It was a miracle that seeing one of the men he used to be given to as if he were some party favor didn’t shove him off the deep end. It was a testament to how far he’d come since Abel first met him that he served the guy coffee instead of shrinking away because he thought he was a demon.

It was funny that, according to everyone else, Gideon Barta was a literal demon straight out of hell, but to Teddy, he was kind of a nice guy.

“Alright, I guess we’ve got dinner plans for tonight.”