Owned on the Ice M/M Romance
Even the magazines on the coffee table were neatly arranged by color.
“Thought that place you dragged me to in Vancouver was fancy,” Lukas muttered, running his good hand through his hair. “But this? You got people coming in here for injuries or spiritual awakenings?”
Aiden gave him a patient look as he signed them in. “Depends on the client.”
Before Lukas could respond, the receptionist looked up from her computer, her smile professional and warm, but her gaze lingered on Lukas a beat too long. She was all polished perfection: glossy hair, sharp nails, a white blouse that somehow looked designer.