Chapter Four
FLYNN didn’t have a whole lot to move, so it was probably just as well he was rooming with Blaine. If he’d gotten a place of his own, he’d have been swimming in it, using boxes as tables and sleeping on the floor. So it didn’t take him long to move his stuff into Blaine’s furnished spare room.
He spent a few minutes downing a bottle of water and giving the place a quick search to see where everything was.
The place was crazy—obviously handmade, but well-made. The kitchen was vast, with crazy mismatched granite counters and gorgeous handmade cabinets and tile floors that were obviously whatever Blaine had found. The island stood like a behemoth in the center of the room, the whole thing covered in groceries and stacks of mail.
The guys were crashed out in the huge open room that served as living/working/entertainment/dining area. There were two—two—sectionals, along with four recliners and a huge old farm table that creaked under the weight of their equipment.
A small bathroom downstairs served guests, and the upstairs had two more—one in Blaine’s suite and one in his.
A suite.
He had a fucking suite. His rooms were more of the same—crazy tiles and finishings, but a huge comfortable bed and crazy dressers. A sitting area with a love seat and a rocker. Bookshelves.
It was horrifying and magical all at once. He was in love.
He thought maybe this was what Blaine’s mind was like, this wonderful mishmash of stuff that shouldn’t work together but totally did.
Flynn spent ten minutes putting away the groceries and another five sorting the mail into junk, bills, and miscellaneous. Then he grabbed a couple of bottles of water and headed down to the farm stand. Although really, stand was a bit of a misnomer. The place was almost a store, all kinds of produce and homemade jams, jellies, canned vegetables.
Blaine had to be exhausted. He was drenched with sweat and had dark circles under his eyes. “Hey. You get some sleep?”
“Yeah, I did. And now I’m all moved in.” Flynn handed over the water. “Why don’t you go take a nap? I can handle this for a while.” He was sure he could figure things out. He was a smart guy.
“It’s cool. Mom and Dad would freak out. They haven’t even met you yet. Have a seat, if you want.”
“The least I can do is keep you company. You guys can’t hire someone to help out on the busy days?” Flynn figured the weekend had to be huge for the market, but that was the same time as they did their ghost hunting. It didn’t seem fair Blaine was the one holding the bag all the time.
“We could, but… they do lots for me, and there’s the cancer, you know? It’s okay. I don’t mind. It’s only the summers that are killer busy. It’s starting to wind down. We’ll have a little boost at Christmas, but that’s it.”
“What about the jams and canning the vegetables and stuff—who does all that?” Because that seemed like an even harder job than running the store to Flynn. He might like to eat food, but he wasn’t into preparing it. Especially for storage like that.
“My mom, my aunt Patty, my aunt Yolanda. They have a little cottage industry.”
“I bet it’s good stuff.” He browsed through the goods, finding the jars full of preserved fruit and vegetables fascinating. Almost like ghost veggies and fruits, locked forever at the moment of their death. He shook himself. God, he was a nutjob sometimes.
A short caravan of cars pulled up, people buying apples and pumpkins, butternut squash, and corn and walnuts. It was a crazy flurry of business, and then they were alone again.
It kind of left him blinking, and he chuckled. “That was something.” He didn’t quite know what, but it was definitely something.
“Yeah, I know.” Blaine grinned at him, and it hit him how lovely Blaine was, long-haired and loose-limbed with big bright eyes. “They’re like birds.”
“I do love the way you see the world.” Blaine was like a free spirit, only he was grounded at the same time. Flynn found himself moving closer.
“You want a drink, man?”
“I’ve got my water.” He hefted it to show Blaine. “But thanks.” He stopped short of actually rubbing shoulders with Blaine, but it was a near thing. Now that he was letting himself look without anything else—like ghosts—coloring his perception, he found himself definitely attracted. Oh, he had been from the start, but it was deeper now. Sexier.
“We make one hell of a cup of coffee, and the chai is stunning. Mom will start with hot apple cider next weekend.”
“Oh well, in that case. Let me try the chai.” He wasn’t really much of a tea drinker, but if Blaine thought it was stunning, he wanted to try it.
“Sure.” The chai was in a little heated container, and the liquid that came out of the spout was fragrant, milky, and wonderful.
Flynn took the cup and buried his nose in the steam. “Mmm. It definitely smells good.” He took a careful sip, finding that the flavor danced on his tongue. “Oh, it is stunning.”
“Thanks! My recipe.” Blaine took a goofy little bow.
Flynn laughed softly, utterly charmed by this man. “You invent other foodstuffs?” Maybe Blaine should have a cookbook out here along with the canned goods.
“I like to cook. I like mixing flavors up.”
“You ever thought of doing a cookbook? You’ve got perfect product placement if you’re selling stuff that you use in the recipes.” He took another sip of the chai, liking the way it warmed him up. Not that he was cold—he was very warm-blooded—but still, it was a pleasant sensation.
“We’ve done one with community farm-to-table recipes. Just a silly self-published thing.”
“That’s great! That’s what I’m talking about. Did it sell well?” He looked around, not seeing any copies. Was that a good sign?
“Okay, yeah. We’ll bring it back out for Christmas shoppers.”
“That’s great—you’re a published author. I’m jealous.” He smiled at Blaine, happy for him. Somehow, being accomplished in a hodgepodge of different things seemed right for Blaine. Suited him. He tried to imagine the man in a suit and just couldn’t.
“I’m a dude who makes great chai and sees ghosts.”
“See? Totally jealous here.” He’d love to actually see his mom, not just feel her presence. It wasn’t a mean kind of jealousy or anything. Maybe envy would be a better word. Oh yeah, he really was a dork, and he was glad he hadn’t said any of that out loud.
“Dude, you’re a scientist with a degree. My folks are going to think you’re the best thing ever.”
“Yeah? Is that what parents like? Degrees? Not happy kids who are pursuing their dreams?” He thought Blaine was brave.
“Shit. Happy kids who are pursuing their dreams is code for shiftless loser son who can’t commit.”
Flynn found himself needing to comfort Blaine, so he reached out and touched his shoulder. “You don’t believe that describes you, do you?”
Blaine shrugged. “They never say that, but I know.”
“Ah, man.” Like he had the night before, he pulled Blaine into a hug, feeling like Blaine really needed it.
Blaine was stiff for a heartbeat; then he relaxed, melted into the touch. They stayed like that for a few minutes, simply hugging. Flynn didn’t get a whole lot of hugs in his life, and he was enjoying the contact, the human part of this whole making-friends thing.
A car pulled up, reminding him where they were, and he reluctantly let go, stepped back. He offered Blaine a warm smile, though.
“Time to work, buddy,” Blaine said. “Have your chai.”
“Thanks, man. You don’t mind if I sit in the corner here and hang out?”
“Of course not. We close in half an hour, and we’re closed Sunday through Wednesday, this time of year.”
“Cool. So we can hang out then, get to know each other better.” Because Flynn wanted to. He wanted to learn all about Blaine.
“I’d like that. After I get to sleep in on Sunday, right?”
“You’ll need that if we’re going back out to the hospital tonight. And I promise I won’t wake you so we can talk.” He was a considerate roommate.
“Yeah, weekends are always tough, but worth it.”
“Good, good. It’d suck if you didn’t think so.” Flynn knew what it was to have a lot on your plate. He’d been doing school and working odd jobs on weekends and during the summer for a while. He’d received a substantial settlement after the wreck that killed his parents, which his aunt had put aside until he’d turned eighteen, but working meant it had stretched past university so that now he could afford to be without pay—for a while at least.
He watched Blaine interact with the customers, loving how easy the man was, how sincere and gentle. Everything Flynn had learned about the guy told him he was an all-around good guy. It was great to see.
As soon as the latest group of people left, Blaine started packaging up food, putting different things different places.
Flynn finished up his chai and tossed the container in the bin. “You sure I can’t help with anything?”
“Do you want to help me put together the food-bank boxes? The food that needs eating before Thursday will go in, and Dad will deliver half to people close by, and the other half I’ll run to the food bank Monday.”
“Cool, I’d love to help out. Just let me know what needs to go where.”
“Grab those plastic bins from the back, huh?”
Flynn headed back and found a good-sized storage room filled with bins and books, a chair, coffee and snacks, and random decorations.
The space suited Blaine to a T. Grinning, Flynn grabbed the plastic bins and went back to Blaine, who was sorting and whistling, a half-eaten apple beside him.
He loved how easygoing Blaine was, how he simply got to work and didn’t seem to stress over it.
Flynn put the bins in a row on the ground.
“So,” Blaine explained, “you put six apples in each, and then all the rest of the summer veg that’s still out—the tomatoes, the okra. I think there’s a watermelon or two left.”
“Cool. It’s great that this stuff doesn’t go to waste.” Flynn started filling the boxes as directed.
“Dad has always been into supporting the community that supports us, you know?”
“It’s a great philosophy.”
“I think so, yeah. Some of the older folks are in real need of good, solid food.”
Flynn nodded and hummed as he continued to divide the food among the boxes.
They were interrupted by the sound of whistling as an older man who looked an awful lot like Blaine came in.
“Dad! Hey!”
“Hey, son. Who’s this? A new friend? Another ghostbuster?”
“Yep. And a new roommate. Flynn, my dad, John. Dad, Flynn, tech guy.”
Flynn wiped his hands on his jeans and held one out. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Pleased. Tech guy, huh? You do websites and stuff?”
“That and also run the stats, come up with programs to work with the ghost-capturing hardware, run analysis, that kind of thing.” And spend nights in dark scary places looking for specters. Wasn’t that what every nerd did?
“Huh. That’s cool. You in school?”
“Just graduated, sir. And I got my dream job.” There weren’t a lot of ghost-hunting jobs out there.
“Excellent. Well, I know that you guys are busy tonight, so Mom says everyone come to the house for supper. She’s got stew and cornbread.”
“Oh wow, that sounds delicious. Thank you, sir.” He shook John’s hand again, thinking it was a good sign that Blaine’s mother was up to cooking. She must be doing okay.
John grunted, then looked at his son, shook his head. “I’ll finish up here, boy. You look exhausted. Catch a nap.”
“I’m okay.”
“Do as you’re told.”
Now there was a dad voice, even if Flynn had never had one aimed at him before. He ducked his head, staying out of it, and made for the exit in case Blaine and his father needed to talk.
“Thanks, Pop. The cash box is locked up in the safe already.”
John’s answer faded as Flynn stepped out of the store area. He sat on a picnic bench, waiting for Blaine to join him.
Blaine came out, a huge box of vegetables and fruit in his arms. “Pop says this is for us.”
“Cool, that’s really nice of him. Our grocery bill should be smaller this week, shouldn’t it?” He went and took the box from Blaine. “I got it. You’ve been working all day.” Besides, it was just one more box to carry in.
“Yeah? Thanks. I’m…. Are the guys grilling? Tell me they aren’t just setting random fires….”
Flynn sniffed. “Grilling, I think. It smells good anyway. They were still asleep when I came out. We’d better tell them we’re invited to your folks’ for dinner.”
“Totally. I’m going to jump in the shower and catch a twenty-minute nap.”
“Sure. I’ll let the guys know about the invite. It was okay that I said yes, right?” He didn’t think John was just being polite, but he could have misread the signs. He didn’t always pick up on social cues the best.
“Totally. They bitch, but they like you guys.”
“Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” He bumped hips with Blaine. “You go get your shower. I’ll deal with the guys’ fire-making and put away this stuff. What time do we need to be ready to go over?”
“We’ll eat at five and head out to the hospital again at six thirty.”
“Works for me. Have a good nap.” He followed Blaine in and headed for the kitchen to drop the box there before going out to talk to the guys. So far this new endeavor was working out great.