So Cooper just pressed a lazy kiss to his chest and dodged the question with some improv. “Oh, Oliver.” Another kiss to his collarbone. “You turn up my thermometer. Mmmm, it’s true I’m no philosopher, but I think therefore I am, in love with you, my Oliver.”

Park sighed. “To think I inspired such fine art. What a legacy I’ll leave.”

Cooper’s mouth moved, but he was so tired even he wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to say and he was half asleep when Park spoke again. “Do you want your prize?”

“Hmmm?” Cooper asked, forcing his eyes back open with significant effort.

“The thing in my pocket. Do you want to see it?”

Park halfheartedly reached in the direction of his pants, abandoned on the floor somewhere, but Cooper caught his arm and pulled it toward his face instead. He kissed the inside of Park’s wrist gently, then dragged his teeth up his forearm and placed another soft, ticklish kiss to the crook of his elbow.

“I got what I came for.” He snorted with his eyes closed. “Came for, heh.” His face landed heavily back on Park’s chest. “Your surrender is all the reward I need.”

“It’s true. I did surrender,” Park murmured, sounding soft and even a little surprised. “I surrender everything to you, heart and soul.”

Cooper hoped he said something nice back before he drifted off completely, but couldn’t be sure. With Park, sometimes it was hard to tell what was real life and what was just a really lovely dream.

Chapter Six

Show business didn’t take a day off for death, and neither did whatever sort of business involved coaxing a titi monkey with a bit of fruit into perching on the exact right branch while three camera crewmen, four supervising zoo employees, and about twelve other people with unclear purposes stood around calling out unhelpful suggestions.

Sophie wasn’t working today, no reptiles on the docket, but she had told Cooper that Wild Nature Conservation would be filming inside the Amazonia exhibit, a brick building with an odd medley of fish, frogs, snakes and monkeys that could be found by the Amazon River. Most of the building was very dark to better highlight the tanks and who was inside them. But in one section, the monkeys were free to swing about the mini “jungle” in natural morning light, apparently free of noticeable confinement. Cooper had to pause just inside the space to let his eyes adjust to the brightness.

“That curator Ryan wasn’t exaggerating when he said people liked to hang around the sets,” Park murmured.

“No, and I can’t imagine that helps keep the animals calm and cooperative,” Cooper said, watching the puffy little brown monkey flee farther into the trees.