Chapter One
The soft, constant hum of people in Angie’s bar was exactly what Charlie needed after a long week at work. He loved his job, but he was always relieved when Fridays rolled around and he could sit down with his friends, drink exactly three beers, and then go home warm and giggly and happy again.
Tonight, though, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at a man who was standing at the bar. He was tall and broad-shouldered, easily twice Charlie’s size, and therefore exactly his type.
The problem with small towns was that new faces were rare, even with the community college bringing in new students every year. That had been fine when Charlie was college-aged, but now that he was getting a little old for undergrads, he was quickly running out of prospects.
“You’re gonna stare a hole in the back of that guy’s head,” Lanie said, sipping her glass of house red. “You need to get up and talk to him before your laser eyes set the bar on fire.”
Charlie had thought he was being subtle.
“He’s straight,” Charlie said, sighing in defeat. Angie’s was effectively a gay bar—on account of Angie herself being a drag queen—but it took new people a while to catch on. Every time there’d been a new face that Charlie had any sexual or romantic interest in lately, they’d been straight. And new.
The huge estate project on the outskirts of town had brought in a whole bunch of electricians, plumbers, carpenters and general laborers. Two-hundred new houses being built, apparently, by six-hundred straight men.
Or at least it felt that way.
“You’ll never know if you don’t go and talk to him,” Amber said from Lanie’s other side. They always teamed up together, though. That was what couples were supposed to do.
It was just that in this case, they happened to be right.
Charlie sighed, looking up at the gorgeous man smiling at the bartender. Maybe he wasn’t straight. Maybe this would be the guy.
Draining his beer so he’d have an excuse to be at the bar, Charlie slipped out of the booth he’d claimed when he arrived and headed over. A swarm of butterflies exploded in his stomach. He talked to people all day, but most of the library patrons were regulars. He knew them.
He wasn’t desperately hoping they’d want to take him home and screw his brains out.
“Hey,” Charlie said, leaning against the bar while he waited for service. The crowd usually picked up a little around nine, and it was right on schedule tonight.
Hey wasn’t the best or most inventive opener, but it was all he’d had time to think of.
“Hey,” the guy responded. At least he sounded nervous, too.
Possibly because he was being approached by a strange man—in all possible senses of the word strange—in a bar he’d just come into for the first time. That would have been enough to make Charlie nervous.
“I haven’t seen you in here before, so you have to be new,” Charlie tried again, realizing too late that it made him sound like a bar fly.
Maybe he was. He couldn’t remember a Friday night in years that he hadn’t spent here, except for last winter when he’d caught the flu before he’d gotten his flu jab.
Maybe he needed to start looking for Mr. Right someplace else.
“I am new, actually.” The guy smiled wryly. “I guess I don’t quite fit in yet.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Charlie wet his lips. “Charlie, by the way. I work at the library.” He offered his hand, figuring they were still in safe, friendly territory.
“Oh, awesome.” The guy grinned, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “Devin. I’m working over at the new estate.”
Charlie barely stopped himself from laughing. That had been his guess.
“I figured. Most of the new faces around here are. So I’m gonna guess… hmm. Let me see your hands?”
Was he so desperate to hold someone’s hand that he was asking strangers in a bar?
Absolutely. Physical contact had been sorely lacking in his life lately.
Devin laughed awkwardly, but offered his hands a moment later. “Okay.”
Charlie took them, feeling for callouses on the tips of Devin’s fingers and only finding one on the outside of his left index finger.
“Huh.” He puzzled over that discovery for a few moments. “These are not the hands of a builder.”
Devin chuckled. “I’m an architect,” he said.
“Ohh. That makes sense.” Charlie nodded, giving Devin his hands back. “I’m not a psychic.”
“No shit.” Devin smiled at him. “Hey, umm… I’m thinking I was a little slow on the uptake here, but I think you should know: I’m straight. I don’t want you wasting your time or anything.”
Charlie’s heart sank, but he forced his face not to change. It wasn’t actually a waste of time, just a disappointment.
“That’s a shame, but making a new friend is never a waste of time. Are you sure you’re a hundred percent straight? Because I’m always willing to teach,” he joked. Devin seemed like the kind of person who could take a joke.
“I don’t think anyone’s a hundred percent straight, but I am waiting for my girlfriend. I am totally fine with talking to you while I do that, though. You seem cool. Can I get you a beer?”
It wasn’t the outcome Charlie had wanted, but it wasn’t so bad. “You’re a sweetheart, your girlfriend is incredibly lucky, and you absolutely can.”
Devin chuckled. “Yeah. You look like you could use it.”
“Is that a joke about me being visibly thirsty?” Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Because that would be fair.”
“I wasn’t gonna come out and say it. I hope you find someone, though,” Devin said.
Charlie smiled wryly and settled on the stool next to him. At least he’d get to make Amber and Lanie think he hadn’t totally struck out this way.
He’d have to tell them when Devin’s girlfriend showed up, but a few moments of not feeling like he was going to die alone sounded good.
Good as his word, Devin bought him a beer, clinking the top of their bottles together before taking a sip. Charlie played with the neck of his bottle, letting himself bask in having made a human connection. It wasn’t exactly the kind he was after, but it would have to be enough for now.
As much as he hated the thought of leaving, Charlie was starting to realize that he needed to get out of Hope Springs if he was ever going to find love. As gay-friendly a place as it was, it was still a small town. The best he could hope for these days were tourists passing through, and they usually travelled as couples.
Not that he was absolutely opposed to being a third for a night, but he wanted more than a night. He wanted love. Companionship. Someone to face the world with, shoulder-to-shoulder.
Maybe neck-to-shoulder. He liked his guys to have at least a few inches on him. He wasn’t a huge man, so that wasn’t so much to ask for.
Devin’s girlfriend eventually appeared—a pretty brunette wearing huge hoop earrings and her hair in a high ponytail—and Charlie said his goodbyes and headed back to his table, where Lanie and Amber were waiting for him.
“Did you just hit on a guy waiting for his girlfriend?” Amber asked as he sat down. She looked as mortified as he might have felt if he hadn’t been forewarned.
“Yes, but only for a little while. He told me before I sat down. But he offered me a drink, so…” Charlie shrugged. “Free beer is free beer.”
“I saw the hand-holding move,” Lanie said. “That was a good one.”
“Thanks. Since he didn’t fall madly in love with me, I’m thinking it didn’t work exactly the way I imagined it.”
“He was cute, too.” Amber sighed, leaning her head on Lanie’s shoulder. “A little soft around the edges, so there’s something to grip.”
Charlie snorted. He’d liked that as well.
“I know. My disappointment is infinite. I’ve forgotten what sex with other people is like.”
Lanie raised an eyebrow. “Has it really been that long?”
“Over a year since Paul,” Charlie said. “So yeah. It’s been a while. Involuntary celibacy is even less fun than it sounds like it would be.”
“We need to get you a vibrator. I’ve been meaning to talk Owen into stocking a small selection in the pharmacy with the sexual health stuff.”
Charlie wrinkled his nose. “Do not tell my brother that I can’t get laid.”
“Those were two separate thoughts,” Lanie clarified. “I don’t want to discuss your sex life or lack thereof with your brother any more than you do.”
It wasn’t exactly that Charlie minded talking to Owen about sex—he’d done that with great success before—but he hated to admit to anyone how lonely he was.
He’d started applying for jobs in bigger cities, toying with the thought of moving to one of them and hoping that he could find love there.
He hated the idea of leaving Hope Springs. All his friends and family were here, he was proud of his tiny community library, he loved his job and all the people he got to see during the week. But he couldn’t see himself finding love here.
Everyone told him that there was time, that there were millions of people in the world who could love him. If he didn’t ever go out and try to find them, though, how the hell was he ever going to meet The One?
Charlie nursed his third beer for the evening quietly, letting the conversation wash over him. It was quiet in the bar tonight, like it sometimes was. There was a rhythm to Hope Springs that it took a lifetime to learn. Charlie still wasn’t sure he had the hang of it.
He grabbed his coat when Lanie stood up, stretching his arms far above his head.
“We’ll walk you home,” Lanie offered. The group of people Charlie thought of as his friends often walked each other home, despite the fact that bad things rarely happened in Hope Springs. It was a quiet little town, and you could walk the streets at three a.m. if you wanted to without fear.
“You guys don’t have to. I’m a grown man and I only live ten minutes away.”
“We want to,” Amber said. “You look sad.”
Charlie smiled wryly. At least he didn’t have to pretend with them. “I’m gonna die alone. But that’s okay.”
“You’re not gonna die alone. You’ve got a ton of friends. Plus, you’re cute and smart and you’ve got a steady job. Someone will snap you up eventually and then everyone else will wonder why they didn’t.”
Charlie snorted, holding the door open for Amber and Lanie. “It’s because they don’t like dick. That’s really my whole problem.”
“There are nine thousand people in Hope Springs. If ten percent of the population is gay or bi, that’s nine hundred people. Let’s say half of those like are men. Four hundred and fifty possible partners is a lot,” Amber pointed out.
“Many of whom are married, too old, too young, not attracted to me, literally related to me…”
“Your family is surprisingly gay,” Lanie agreed. “I guess it’s a combination of this place and your mom being really cool.”
Charlie smiled at that. He’d never been made to feel uncomfortable about his sexuality by anyone in his family. He even had a gay cousin.
It was more of a surprise that he had a straight cousin.
“It’s probably more than ten percent,” Amber said. “Come to think. Considering how gay-friendly this place is. And all the tourists and stuff. At any one time, up to fifteen or twenty percent of the town could be queers.”
“This is actually depressing, since none of them seem to be interested in me. I’d actually like to go back to telling myself that I’m only one of maybe three single gay men and they’re all off-limits for one reason or another.”
“I’ll shut up,” Amber promised, pulling her long red hair into a ponytail at the back of her neck to keep it from blowing in the wind.
“Same time next week?” Charlie asked as they approached his house, smiling to himself at the light being left on for him. Twenty-four was a little old to live at home, but he hadn’t had any reason to move out, yet. He liked his home. He liked his family. He liked his town.
The thought of losing them because he’d never have a family of his own if he stayed made his stomach twist into knots, but he knew he had to consider it. Nothing was going to change if he just stood still.
“Same time next week,” Lanie agreed. “Love you, Charlie.”
“I love you two, too.” Charlie got out his keys, heading for the door. “Get home safe,” he said, waving at the two women as they walked away, arm in arm, giggling between themselves.
All Charlie wanted was a romance like that. It didn’t seem too much to ask.