Chapter Five
Camaro89: I’ve been thinking about you today, and about how RL people don’t know you. It made me reach out to a guy locally who’s kind of a loner. See? You make me a better person.
Leo read the message as he stood, dithering in his darkened store, working up the courage to go along to the meeting at Dee’s. It explained why Carter had held out the olive branch, at least. Which was ironic. Or messed up. Or some insane combination of the two.
He hadn’t realized people thought he was a loner. Christ. He never felt alone. How could he when he was surrounded by all these books, all these characters, and had Camaro89 to talk to about them? But Carter was ‘holding, as ‘twere, the mirror up to nature’ and while Leo didn’t like the reflection he saw glaring back, he couldn’t really argue with it.
Carter thought he was a loner. But maybe, if Leo was ever going to tell him the truth about ‘LLB’, he should try to change that opinion. Straightening his shoulders, he stepped out into the night and locked the door behind him. Dee’s Coffee Shop, brightly lit against the dark, shone at the other end of Main Street and Leo took a deep breath before heading out. He pulled out his phone and typed as he walked.
You do the same for me, in ways you don’t know. I’m heading out of my comfort zone tonight, because of you. Thank you. xx
He’d walked all the way along the street before a reply popped up just as he reached the door to Dee’s.
Camaro89: Good luck. Knock ’em dead, Champ. :)
Smiling to himself, Leo pushed open the door, and froze. Several faces turned to stare at him, blank with surprise. Nobody knew him. He knew nobody. He remembered, then, why he didn’t do this kind of thing.
“I’m sorry, we’re not open, honey,” said a thin, grey-haired woman, smiling kindly.
“Oh. No. Uh, is this the meeting about—?”
“Hey you made it!” Carter appeared from the kitchen behind the counter, carrying a tray of hot drinks and looking like a knight in shining armor.
“Uh, yes,” Leo said, pulling off his hat, flushed with relief. “Hi.”
“This is Leo Novak,” Carter said as he set the tray down on the table. “He owns Bayside Books. I strong-armed him into coming along tonight, right Novak?”
“Right,” he said, with a lame laugh.
“Oh!” The woman who’d spoken before looked mortified. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t recognize you. Welcome! New recruits are a blessing.” She smiled. “I’m Jude Brennan, I own the Majestic Hotel, up on the cliffs. And this is my husband, Don.” Leo nodded and Jude went around the table, introducing the other six or seven people reaching for their coffees—mostly owners of various local businesses, as well as Tejana Callaghan, who lived up at Hanworth Hall.
As Leo was taking off his coat, Dee bustled out of the kitchen carrying a platter piled high with generous slices of a seriously amazing looking cake. “Leo, this is a wonderful surprise,” she said, setting the platter down. “Pumpkin Spice cake. Dig in, everyone. Now, Leo, you sit right here next to Alfie”— a mischievous smile lit her eyes—“and I’ll go fetch you a drink. Vanilla latte?”
“Decaf, at this time of night, please.”
Carter gave a friendly smile as he sat down, and Leo had no choice but to take the empty seat next to him. Not that he didn’t want to, but it was intense knowing what he knew—and knowing Carter didn’t know. It was an unsustainable situation, obviously, but for right now this tentative rapprochement with Carter felt important. Slowly, slowly he was trying to reconcile Carter with Camaro89. And maybe, possibly, if he reached a point where he and Carter were actually friendly, telling him the truth wouldn’t destroy everything.
But they weren’t there yet, not by a long shot. Carter thought he was a loner, and had invited him tonight out of… Well, if not quite pity, then kindness and the desire to do a good turn. He’d never really imagined Carter capable of kindness.
“Hey, try some cake.” Carter pulled the platter closer and Leo reached out to take a slice. It smelled amazing, moist and rich and full of winter spice. “Dee’s a fantastic baker,” Carter said.
Leo broke off a piece and tasted it. “Delicious.”
Carter nodded and said no more. Neither did Leo and an awkward silence fell between them—the silence of two people who really don’t know each other at all. Which was ironic. Casting around for something to say that wouldn’t betray him, Leo’s gaze fell on the earbuds draped around Carter’s neck, hanging down as if he’d been listening to music on his way here.
“Listening to something good?” Leo said, at the exact moment he remembered disparaging Carter’s musical taste on the train. He gave a little, internal wince.
Carter lifted a hand to his earbuds, an impish look in his eye. “Wanna guess? You’ll be surprised.”
Leo couldn’t help it, Carter’s smile provoked one his own. “Go on,” he said. “Surprise me.”
“Okay then. I’m listening to an audiobook. You probably don’t approve, but I prefer audio to print.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not a great reader, as you know.”
A flush crept into Leo’s cheeks, his comment about the sign outside Carter’s shop fresh in his mind. He considered apologizing, but there were too many people around, so he just said, “What’s the book?”
After an assessing pause, Carter said, “Madam Bovary. It’s by—”
“Gustave Flaubert. Yes I know.”
“Right.” A wry smile. “Of course you do.”
“Are you enjoying it?” Leo said. “What do you think?”
“I am enjoying it.” Serious all of a sudden, Carter turned thoughtful and— Wow, he was handsome when he was thinking. “I’ve only just started it, but…” He trailed off, flushing. “Ah, you don’t wanna hear my thoughts. I’m sure you’ve read it.”
“I have,” Leo said. “But I do want to hear your thoughts.” More than you know.
Carter gave him a wary look. “I guess I’m finding it hard to warm to Emma Rouault as a heroine.”
“Yeah, she’s never going to be anyone’s favorite.”
“Right. But I guess that’s the point?” He looked uncomfortable. Like a man, Leo thought with a sinking sensation, expecting to have his opinions belittled.
So he nodded, trying to look encouraging. “Sure. I don’t think we’re necessarily meant to like her.”
“But you don’t have to like a character to find them compelling,” Carter added cautiously. “You just have to be engaged by them. Even if it’s in a negative way.”
“More of an Emma Woodhouse than a Lizzy Bennet?” Leo suggested.
Carter’s whole face lit up. “Except Emma Woodhouse learns her lesson in the end,” he said. “She changes and makes amends. I’m guessing Emma Rouault doesn’t…”
“Well.” Leo smiled. “That’s French literature for you.”
Carter laughed, a bright burst of amusement, and something flashed between them: a connection, an understanding—a spark. For a weird, dissonant moment, Carter superimposed himself over Leo’s mental image of Camaro89 and the two became one.
Leo’s heart all but stopped.
“Okay, here we go!” Dee set a steaming mug of coffee on the table and settled into the chair next to him.
Leo snapped his gaze back to the table, aware in his peripheral vision of Carter’s sudden silence. Had he felt that same intense connection? Was it just because Leo knew that he could see Camaro89 in Carter? Or did Carter see it too, did he see LLB in Leo?
God, Leo should probably just tell him. But how? The longer he left it, the weirder it got.
He stared at his coffee while Dee brought the meeting to order and handed out a brief agenda. Leo barely paid attention, too aware of Carter’s imposing presence at his side—and Camaro89’s sensitive mind beneath all that brawn, the mind Leo had fallen in love with months ago.
The absurdity of the situation left him dizzy.
“…think you and Leo could handle that, Alfie?”
“Sure. What do you say, Novak?”
Leo blinked back into the moment. “Ah, sure. Um…sorry, what?”
Carter raised an eyebrow. “Dee asked if you and I could source some decorations for the market stalls. What was it, Dee?” He produced a pen from his pocket and turned over the agenda to write on the back. “Table coverings of some kind. And…?”
“Rope tinsel,” Dee said. “Something to hang from the gazebos.”
“Oh, like banners,” said Jude Brenan. “Christmas lights would be great, too—the battery ones, so we don’t have to worry about trailing cables.”
“And batteries,” her husband added. “Plenty of them.”
Nodding to all this, Carter kept writing as others chipped in with ideas. Leo stayed silent, not sure what to add. Were they expected to buy all this themselves? His business wasn’t exactly flourishing and—
“There’s two hundred dollars in the kitty,” Dee said, in anticipation of his concern. Or maybe she’d just read the dismay on his face. “Give me the receipts and we’ll repay you guys what you spend.” She sent Leo a meaningful smile. “It’ll be a fun trip, huh? A good opportunity for you and Alfie to get to know each other.”
“Sure,” he said weakly. “Great.”
The meeting moved on to other issues—sufficient lighting and power for the market stalls, making sure the kids were safe near the giant Christmas tree, whether or not Finn Callaghan was going to be there. “Maybe,” said his sister-in-law. “It depends on his filming schedule. But he’ll definitely be back for the Christmas party. We’d love to see you all there, too.”
God, the Callaghan Christmas party. Next to Leo, Carter shifted uneasily and stared straight ahead, a flush on his cheeks. Was he remembering their run-in last year? Leo certainly was. They’d both said some choice things…
No offence, Carter, but I prefer the more cerebral type.
Arrogant, prissy little prick. I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last gay man on earth.
Awkward.
After another round of coffees, and the rest of the pumpkin cake, the meeting wound up. Leo stood and pulled on his coat. He wanted to talk to Carter, maybe discuss what had happened last Christmas, but didn’t know whether he dared. He lingered self-consciously while Carter gave Dee a hug and said goodbye, and then she caught Leo’s arm, stopping him before he could follow Carter out.
“Did you tell him?” she said in a low voice.
Leo shook his head. “I will.”
“Make sure you do.” Then she gave him a quick, hard hug and let him go. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had hugged him. Not for the whole year, probably. Not since Grayson. He was still considering that as he stepped outside, and was brought up short when he found Carter waiting outside, hands thrust into his coat pockets.
“Hey,” he said, looking awkward. “You, ah, wanna go run our errands tomorrow evening?”
“Sure.” Leo tugged on his hat and Carter gave him a little smile as they fell into step together and headed down the street. Leo lived in rooms above his store and Carter had a nice looking house behind his shop. So they were neighbors, of a sort. Not that they’d been very neighborly this last year.
“I figure we’ll get everything we need at the superstore in Commack,” Carter said. “We can take my truck.”
Leo agreed and they fell into a difficult silence. From the corner of his eye, he watched Carter in the steady orange glow of the street lights. Carter, but also Camaro89—someone Leo cared about. Carter frowned as they walked, his hat pulled low over his ears, gaze straight ahead. He looked pensive, as if he were wrestling with an unpleasant thought. Leo could guess what it was. “Ah, listen,” he said, screwing up his courage. “About what happened last Christmas…”
Carter flung him a glance. “Don’t worry about it—”
“Thing is,” Leo said over him, “it wasn’t a good time for me. I was just coming out of a bad break-up and I wasn’t looking for—”
“It’s fine.” Carter threw him a sheepish look. “I, uh, seem to remember over-reacting.”
“I guess we can both be… prickly sometimes.”
“It happens when you don’t fit the mold, right?”
“Right.” Leo smiled because, yeah, that was it exactly. Leo had never fit the mold—too smart, too nerdy, too gay—and he supposed Carter hadn’t either. His macho looks didn’t exactly scream classic literature enthusiast.
“And for the record,” Carter went on, his smile broadening. “I’d definitely sleep with you if you were the last gay guy on the planet.”
“Thanks,” Leo said, blushing as he laughed. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
They walked on in a lighter mood. “I’ve, uh, never listened to an audio book,” Leo confessed after a while.
“I figured. What with owning a used bookstore and all.”
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with them,” he added quickly. It was important to him that Carter believed that; he didn’t want to sound like he was being patronizing. “I’ve just never… I don’t know, considered it. When do you listen?” Doubtfully, he added, “In bed? I’d probably fall asleep.”
Carter chuckled. “No, I can’t listen to them in bed. I’d be out like a light. I used to listen to them with my dad. That’s how I started, actually. These days I do a lot of listening while I’m working and when I’m driving. Or cooking.” Another smile, a little wistful Leo thought. “I like to cook, even though there’s only me now. It’s one of my favorite things, cooking while I’m listening to a good book.” He shook his head. “I can’t actually figure out how you have time to just sit down and read.”
Leo gave a tight smile. “No social life, I guess.”
“Yeah?” Carter’s smile faded. “I’ve got a… a friend a bit like that. He reads a lot, too.”
Face heating, Leo looked away. Was Carter was talking about LLB—about him? “I guess it’s easy to lose yourself in a book,” Leo said quietly, “when the real world doesn’t feel so friendly.”
He sensed, rather than saw, Carter’s nod of acknowledgment. “But, hey,” he said after a pause, “you came along tonight. I hope you enjoyed it? Even if you did get lumbered with a shopping trip.”
“I did enjoy it.” Leo turned to look at him again, ventured a smile. “And I don’t mind about the shopping trip. I should, uh, probably get some decorations for the bookstore too.”
Carter raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, it’s like a week before Christmas. You should definitely get some decorations.”
They were approaching the corner of Main Street and Maplewood, where Bayside Books was located, and Leo grimaced at the sight of its dark window. “Oh God,” he said softly, seeing it now through Carter’s eyes—and probably the rest of the town’s. “It’s the Scrooge and Marley of New Milton, isn’t it?”
Carter didn’t deny it. “Well… consider me your Ghost of Christmas Present. We’ll get you some lights and a tree, brighten the place right up.”
“I’ve been…preoccupied,” Leo said, flushing because he’d been preoccupied by Camaro89 and the escape he presented from reality. “I guess owning the store hasn’t exactly been the walk in the park I was expecting.”
“Running a business never is,” Carter said. “I’m only in my third year running things without my dad, and it’s tough.”
“But you enjoy it?”
He made an equivocal face. “You don’t have to enjoy something for it to be enjoyable,” he said. “If that makes sense?”
“Not exactly, but I get your point. Hard work has its own rewards.”
“‘One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it,’” Carter said. “That’s from—”
“Persuasion. Yes, I know the quote.” He met Carter’s widening eyes and smiled. “It’s one of my favorite books.”
“You’re kidding?” Carter grinned. “Mine too. I love Austen. I know I don’t look the type”—he held up a hand to forestall objection—“but I think she’s a genius.”
“Hey, who says there’s a type? Austen’s for everyone. Her books were popular with the troops in World War One. Did you know that?”
“I did.” Carter was still smiling, his eyes merry and bright and Leo’s heart did a strange little double-take—this was Alfie Carter talking about Jane Austen? “And I can totally get why. Her books are so…real, I guess. Her characters…” He laughed, waving his own words away. “Well, you know, right?”
Fascinated, Leo watched the light in Carter’s dark eyes and heard himself say, “Ah, listen, would you recommend an audiobook of Persuasion? Maybe a couple of others, too?” He offered a rueful smile. “Maybe I’m missing out on a good thing.”
“You definitely are,” Carter said, but he was nodding too. “I’ll check out my collection and let you know.”
“Great.”
“Cool.”
And then they were just standing there outside Bayside Books, smiling at each other.
“Well,” Carter said, clearing his throat. “I guess I’ll swing by and pick you up at six tomorrow evening, then?”
“Sounds good.” Leo was still smiling as he watched Carter stroll away, lifting his hand to wave as he disappeared around the corner.
For a long time, he stayed there in the cold, considering the events of the evening. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that he and Carter had…connected. What that meant for LLB and Camaro89, he didn’t know, but he could hear Dee’s warning voice loud and clear in the back of his mind.
Tell him. Tell him the truth.
And he would. He just needed to wait for the right moment.