Chapter 5

 

 

THOMAS PRIED his eyes open, groaning as he lifted his head off the pillow. He heard soft noises in the house and smelled coffee, which made his stomach roll over and threaten to go on strike for the rest of his life. “Just leave me to die,” he moaned to no one, which spiked the reason he’d been drinking in the first place. Sometimes he was so pathetic.

He pulled the pillow over his head to block out the light and closed his eyes once again. His mouth tasted like he’d been sucking a tail pipe, and the smell of his breath made him nauseous.

“Thomas.” The voice was quiet, but it sounded like yelling. “I brought you something to drink.”

“Just go away,” he grumped and slowly rolled over, thinking his head was going to explode with each movement.

“Fine. You’re the boss. But I think it’s fair to warn you that the men are coming this morning to unpack those crates in the living room, and they’re going to bring tools. It isn’t going to be pretty.”

“Oh, fuck a duck,” Thomas said, pushing back the covers, keeping his eyes closed as he slowly sat up.

Brandon pressed a glass into his hand, and he drank a little. Pills were pushed into his grip, and he took them, swallowing the juice. At least the stuff made his mouth less nasty for a little while.

“Go and take a shower. I have some water that I’m putting beside your bed. Drink all of it—the fluids will make you feel better.” Brandon left the room, and Thomas finished the juice and drank the water, then stumbled into the bathroom.

He turned on the water but not the lights and stepped into the shower, holding the tile to make sure he stayed upright. Every drop felt like it pelted his skin, at least at first. Then his muscles relaxed and he sighed, letting the heat crash over him. Finally he washed up and shampooed his hair, rinsed well, and got out of the shower. The room was cold, and he shivered until he dried off and brushed his damn teeth. Now at least he felt halfway to human, and went to get dressed.

Thomas schlumped down the stairs and shuffled into the kitchen with his eyes still half-lidded. Brandon pushed a mug of coffee across the counter. “Thank you. God, remind me never to take a drink again.” He held his head as he sat at the kitchen table. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“You were sucking down those beers pretty fast last night.” Brandon left him alone, going into the other room, then returning. “I’m off to the store to get some food in this house, and this afternoon I have some interviews with housekeepers.” He turned to him. “We could go the easy way and use Merry Maids. They’re a service that will come in on a scheduled basis and do what you want them to.”

Thomas sipped the coffee and groaned. “Go ahead and use them. I’m not a huge mess-maker, and having someone reliable is important. Make sure they can do special engagements. If I have to entertain, stuff like that.”

“No problem. I’ll handle it and review the details with you later.” Brandon turned to leave the house, and Thomas wished for the millionth time that he’d switched to something else to drink last night, especially when his phone rang and he cradled his throbbing head. He should have put it on vibrate.

“Blaze…,” he groused.

“Damn, you sound like hell. What did you do?” Blaze seemed as chipper as they came.

“Well, I went out for dinner because there was nothing in the house. And… my new assistant and a friend of his asked me to join them, and I drank too much.” He sipped his coffee and let the quiet of the house and the caffeine do their work.

Blaze chuckled. “Why did you do that? I haven’t known you to drink too much in years.”

Thomas sighed. “I think I was lonely and feeling a little sorry for myself last night, and drinking only made things worse.”

“It usually does.” Blaze paused. “Are you sure that’s all there is to it?” Sometimes Blaze had an insight that startled him. “I heard Marjorie hired you an assistant and that he’s cute and….”

Thomas’s hangover dissipated, at least from his immediate consciousness. “Sometimes I swear that woman is a menace.”

Blaze laughed loudly. “I’ve been telling you that for years. She knows everything. Thankfully she keeps most things to herself.”

“Dang her,” Thomas swore.

“So is there an issue with your assistant?” Blaze asked, and Thomas growled. “I’m going to take that as a yes. Now. You can either tell me what’s got you tied in knots, or I’ll worm it out of you with texts and reminders of your hangover. Just make it easy on yourself and come clean.”

“There’s no issue. Brandon is handsome, and I think he’s going to be very good at his job.” Thomas scratched the back of his head, wishing like hell that he could get out of this conversation. Maybe someone would take out Blaze’s cell tower… not pretty, but preferable to going down the road he was being led.

“Thomas…,” Blaze coaxed. “I can fill in the blanks on my own if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Thomas snapped.

“And I like dick, so that comes in handy,” Blaze quipped, and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Ass,” he retorted because he was too hungover for pithy comebacks. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Which only means there’s something to talk about.” Blaze could be as stubborn as a mule, as stubborn… as Thomas was. “Just spill it.”

“Fine…,” he huffed. “Brandon was the kid who used to mow my lawn for me.”

“And you perved on lawn-mower boy?” Blaze was clearly having too much fun with this. “That’s pretty sick, man.”

“I did not. He was fifteen. I barely noticed him then, and now he’s grown into a stunning man and he keeps looking at me… that way. Like he’s interested.” Thomas swallowed and then drank some more coffee.

“You know that doesn’t matter unless….” Blaze practically cackled. “Are you interested?”

“I’m not dead. Brandon is gorgeous, and he has a good heart and….” Thomas wished to hell he had never allowed this conversation to start. “He lives with his grandmother and needed this job so he could help take care of her. How many twenty-five-year-old kids have that kind of patience and care in them?”

“You like this kid… and that’s why you were getting drunk?” Blaze pressed.

“Yes and no. I like him, but that’s all there is to it and all there will ever be.” Thomas stood, and his head swirled. He slowly sat back down and waited for the room to stop spinning. “It doesn’t matter what my personal feelings are or may be… or the way he looks at me…. Nothing is ever going to come of it.”

“Please. This isn’t the damn fifties. You have no one to apologize to or ask permission of. You’re the boss, and if you want to date your assistant and he’s agreeable, then do it.”

“No. I’m not going down the same road as I did with Angus. That isn’t going to happen!” He spoke loud enough that he gave himself a headache. “I was drinking last night because I was a little lonely, and then Brandon came over and—”

“You continued drinking because you’re interested in him and you were too chicken to say anything and tried to bury your feelings in the bottom of a glass. How did that work out for you?”

“Dammit, Blaze!” He was having too much fun at his expense.

“No. You need to stop repressing any feelings you might have for anyone because of what Angus did to you. I know that asshole hurt you bad, but you can’t stay away from everyone because of him. The man was a complete jerk, and he’s paying for what he did and will for some time yet. I don’t care if you’re interested in your assistant or the guy who lives down the street. But as your friend, I hate to see you shutting yourself up behind work and anything else you can think of so you don’t have to deal with anyone who might hurt you.”

“I’ve always been too busy for a relationship,” Thomas said.

“You keep telling yourself that. But I think that excuse is starting to sound hollow, even to you.” Blaze paused, and papers shuffled in the background. “Anyway, I called to give you a brief update. Everything is going great here. The projects are on schedule, and I’ve been told the permits are in the mail. We are all set.”

“That’s good. What are our next projects?” Thomas asked.

“There are a number of proposals that have been put forward, and I’ve scheduled a meeting for later in the week to review them. Marjorie has it on your calendar—she’s sending you the details. Relax a little and take it easy. That’s why you went out there in the first place.”

“Tell me about it.” Thomas could only sit around watching television for so long. If he was going to take it easy and step back from work, then he needed things to occupy his time, but he hadn’t found anything yet. Not that he’d actually been looking.

“Ask your assistant for ideas on some things you can do. He lives there,” Blaze offered, and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Just take care of the things in the office and let me worry about my personal life.” He was feeling snippy, and the more Blaze pushed, the grouchier he was becoming.

“I’m your friend, so I care about both sides of you, remember?” Blaze’s voice hardened. If they were in the same room, they’d probably be standing toe-to-toe, arms crossed, staring at each other until one of them looked away.

“Fine. Let me know if there’s anything you need.” Thomas ended the call and slid his phone on the counter, lucky it didn’t fall and smash on the floor. Not that he cared at the moment. He was put out and angry with Blaze, and if he were honest, with himself. Why did he always seem to be interested in people he wasn’t supposed to get involved with?

Not that it mattered. He was not going to develop romantic feelings for his assistant. That was simply too cliché for words. Thomas finished his coffee, feeling more human by the second, and then went upstairs to change into the clothes he intended to wear for the day.

 

 

“THOMAS,” BRANDON called from the front as Thomas came down the stairs. “I got your groceries. And I snagged your keys, and a friend helped me get your car back.”

Thomas met him in the kitchen, where Brandon had begun putting things away.

“I went ahead and got you some staple sort of things, as well as what you asked for. I hope that’s okay.” Brandon put everything from the bags away, then hurried back outside and returned with another load.

“How much did you get?” Thomas asked, peeking in the bags.

“There was nothing at all here, so I bought some basics that won’t go bad. At least you aren’t going to starve.” Brandon smiled, and Thomas paused because, damn, the sun came out when he did that.

Thomas forced himself to turn away. He’d just told Blaze he wasn’t going to get involved with his assistant, and a smile had him forgetting all about that within seconds.

“I got you some ice cream. I wasn’t sure about flavor, so I went with chocolate, and some sorbet in case you liked that.” Brandon continued putting things away as he talked. “I got pasta and stuff to make sauce. I didn’t know if you liked that, but it’s easy to make.” He stretched up to put the pasta in the cupboard.

Thomas’s attention focused on the strip of skin that now showed just above Brandon’s belt. He took a step closer, his fingers tingling to touch. He paused, blinking, and turned away.

“Thomas, are you okay?” Brandon said gently, closing the cupboard doors. “Maybe you need to lie down for a while and get the alcohol out of your system. You seem really distracted.”

“Sorry,” Thomas said, realizing he hadn’t been listening. “You were saying?”

Brandon cleared his throat. “I was asking if you can cook.” He turned to finish getting the refrigerated things put away. “I called the maid service while I was out, and they were very nice. They said they’d send someone by tomorrow. I can talk to them if you’d like. I had a few other calls to make about cleaning ladies, but if it’s okay, we can see if the service works out first.”

“All right.” Thomas shrugged. He didn’t have a preference. “That’s fine on the maid service, and as for the cooking part, not really. In New York I mainly bought my dinners or heated things up. I didn’t have time to make huge meals or things like that. I don’t burn water, but I never learned to cook very well.”

“Okay.” Brandon closed the refrigerator door, picked up a tablet from the counter, and opened it to review his handwritten list. “The people will be here to unpack those crates for you soon. Can I ask what’s in them?”

“Two works of art that are very important to me. Maybe you can help me find a place for them. I don’t want to put either of them over the fireplace. That’s the worst location because of the heat and then cold.”

Brandon looked around. “I’d suggest putting them in the family room, but it’s open to the kitchen, and that means cooking steam and stuff. How about the dining room, or the living room away from the fireplace? It isn’t like you’ll be building a fire anytime soon.”

“All right. I’d like to keep them somewhere I can see them.”

“I understand that,” Brandon said and wandered out of the room.

Thomas pushed back from the table and went after him. He found Brandon in the living room.

“We could put one here, but I think it might get some direct sun and we don’t want that. It might fade.” Brandon walked through the room, looking at each wall, shaking his head. “I don’t like it in here.”

Thomas laughed. “I don’t either. This room doesn’t feel comfortable, and with the huge windows, it seems like a fishbowl.”

“And those curtains.” Brandon shivered. “They’re way too heavy and froofy. If you were going to buy this place, I’d help you pick out something else, but it doesn’t make sense to spend money on something when you’re only going to be here a few months.” He sighed and continued on, wandering into the dining room.

“I thought the de Kooning might go here. I always had it near this table at my place in New York.” Thomas scoped out the blank space. It would be the perfect size for it. He nodded, imagining the bright colors on the wall.

Brandon spun around, his mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “A real one? Wow. Awesome.” He bit his lip and visibly forced himself to move on. “You could try the hall for the other one, but with the front door, I don’t think so.” They both wandered into the family room. “We could hang it here.” Brandon indicated the wall behind the sofa. “It’s away from the kitchen, and you can see it from the chairs. Either that or over there, opposite the television. Both are interior walls and won’t get direct sun.”

“I think either of them will work.” Thomas liked that it would be in a room he would use often. The works held a great deal of sentimental value for him. “Once they’re unpacked, we can choose.”

“Excellent. You said they were valuable, so I contacted a local gallery. They are going to send someone over tomorrow to hang them for you.” Brandon really seemed on the ball. “I didn’t think you’d want us hanging them with wire and a nail.”

“That’s very good.” Thomas smiled, spinning to Brandon as he turned to him. “You seem to understand what I need before I do sometimes.” He stilled, and Brandon did the same.

Brandon licked his lips, and Thomas stifled a groan. Hell and blast. Marjorie had developed a sense of anticipating what he needed, but she did it over years of working together, and here Brandon was doing it within days. It was so intimate so fast. Not only that, but the naked heat in his gaze—granted, it had only lasted a few seconds—made Thomas’s knees weak.

“Thank you.” Thomas turned and strode out of the room, heading for the stairs. He needed some time alone to clear his damned head and get those thoughts of Brandon out of there.

Upstairs, he went right to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He really wanted to take a cold shower to make his errant dick stop aching in his jeans. He sure as hell hoped Brandon hadn’t seen the bulge. The last thing he wanted was for Brandon to see his arousal and either take it as an invitation, or be horrified and decide he didn’t want to work with him any longer.

Two fucking days. That’s all it had taken. Two days and he was already having thoughts about Brandon that he shouldn’t be having, like wondering what was under his polo shirt, and with the tantalizing glimpses of skin, he was….

No. Thomas wiped his face, thinking unsexy thoughts. He closed his eyes, breathed evenly, and shifted his mind to business deals and the paperwork Blaze had sent him to review. That sent his mind in a completely different direction and cleared out images of Brandon.

The chime of an incoming message interrupted his thoughts. The man is here to unpack the crates.

Thomas responded that he’d be down in a few minutes and dried his face before leaving the bathroom.

“Be careful and take your time. These are delicate items,” Brandon was saying as the whine of tools drifted to Thomas’s ears and continued as he reached the room. One man was in the living room on his knees, removing screws from the first case.

“That’s great. Thank you,” Thomas told the man in coveralls, who looked about his age.

“No problem,” he said, barely looking up from his work. “How much do you want me to do?” He removed the last screw and lifted off the wooden cover to reveal paper and Bubble Wrap. “I can take off more if you want.”

Brandon set the covers out of the way against the wall.

“I think that’s good. We’re having them hung tomorrow, so they can stay that way until we’re ready for them. I know this is a piddly job, but I didn’t have the tools for it.” He turned to Brandon, who nodded confirmation.

“It’s no problem.” He opened the second case and then packed up the tools. “If you need anything else, just give us a call.” He smiled and nodded before closing the door after himself.

“I’m anxious to see them again, but I don’t want to take any chances,” Thomas said, feeling a little like an excited kid. In the end he left them where they were and wandered back through the house. He didn’t have any meetings and wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Having time on his hands was unusual for him, and he didn’t know what to do to fill it. He ended up staring at the still-packed paintings, his eyes unfocused as he worked things through.

“Umm… I should go through the house and see what other things you might need.” Brandon left the room, and Thomas’s gaze followed him before he could chastise himself for it.

“How many things are on that list of yours?” Thomas asked.

“Not many,” Brandon said, pausing. “I need to call Marjorie to see if she has anything she needs me to follow up on. I was also going to run some loads of laundry. The cleaning service will do that as part of their contract, but I figured I’d take care of it until they start. I wondered, do you have anything that needs to be done?”

“There are some clothes to take to the cleaners.” Thomas followed Brandon as he left. “They’re in my room. I’ll bring them down. I like to have my shirts professionally cleaned so they’re crisp.”

“No problem.” Brandon went into the kitchen, and Thomas heard the dishwasher start. When he went upstairs after detouring to his office to get his phone, he stopped in his bathroom, passing Brandon as he carried his dirty towels away. “Just trying to keep everything cleaned for you.”

Thomas got his shirts and brought them to the laundry room, where Brandon took charge of them while he spoke with Marjorie.

“Sounds good. I’m just getting things together here. I need to make another run to the store for supplies. I got him groceries, but not cleaning stuff and extra paper products. The house is pretty much set up. We aren’t going to hang most of the pictures unless Thomas changes his mind.” Brandon smiled, pinking a little, probably because he was talking about him. Thomas shrugged. He knew Brandon was talking to Marjorie, who knew most of his secrets. “They’re coming to hang the paintings tomorrow. … When does he have meetings?”

Thomas cocked his head as Brandon listened.

“Okay. So I’m pretty much up to date. This afternoon I was going to make him some things that he can reheat so he has some meals in the house.” Brandon listened again, and then he smiled and ended the call.

“What did Marjorie say?” Thomas crossed his arms over his chest.

“That I’m being very good to you, and that cooking is above and beyond.” Brandon smiled. “I think she likes me.”

Thomas snickered. “I think she does too.” He looked at the lined-up laundry soap on the shelf. “I was wondering what there is to do here. I have time on my hands and don’t know what to do.” Thomas put his hands on his hips. “I grew up here, but I don’t think we ever did much. There are a bunch of touristy things around, but we never did them.”

“Well… there’s Pikes Peak, but that’s an all-day thing to get to the top. There’s Cripple Creek. It’s maybe an hour from town. It’s the old gold-mining town, and there are a lot of things to do there—tours, shops, even some shows, and a saloon and old-time reenactments. It’s the Old West at its best because it’s real… well, mostly real. I think there’s a train through town as well. I haven’t been there since I was in school, but I can look it up and see what you need tickets for.” Brandon got busy immediately, checking things on his phone. “There are plenty of tickets available, especially for one.”

“Two,” Thomas said. “I don’t want to go all the way up there alone, so if you don’t mind, you can come with me. That is, if you’d like to.” Sure, he wanted to do something and didn’t relish the thought of spending the entire day alone, but he should have tried to find someone who he wasn’t having feelings for that he shouldn’t have. God, Brandon even made his thoughts convoluted.

“It sounds like fun.” Brandon’s smile was genuine and warm.

“Awesome.”

“I can reserve two sets of tickets for the train. The other things we’ll have to figure out once we get there. When did you want to go?”

“We can leave soon,” Thomas said. He’d made the invitation, so he wasn’t going to take it back.

“I have the directions all set up in my phone, and I’ll get some water and a few snacks so we have things. I can go to Costco later tonight.” It was curious how Brandon rearranged his day but didn’t lose sight of the things he needed to do.

Thomas got a jacket just in case, and Brandon brought a small cooler and followed him out of the house. They went to Thomas’s car and buckled up before heading out of town and into the mountains.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked as Brandon typed on his phone.

“Letting Marjorie know we’ll be out of pocket for a while. She can probably text, but cell service is most likely a little spotty.” He was being a good assistant, but Thomas wasn’t sure how much he wanted Marjorie to know. “I’m not giving her any details, just that we may be unreachable.”

Once finished, Brandon set the phone on his lap and gave him directions as needed. It took about an hour to get there, passing through some amazing mountain scenery.

“Sometimes I forget how breathtaking it can be here,” Thomas said as he slowed down, taking a curve near a deep drop-off. “There’s nothing like this in New York.”

“Nope.” Brandon smiled. “I always liked it here. As a teenager, I used to love to drive up into the mountains just to see what there was to see. I got to the top of Pikes Peak for a field trip in junior high. I had great teachers who thought enough to use the natural beauty around us in their lessons.”

Thomas glanced over, his breath hitching at the beauty and pure joy in Brandon’s eyes. He turned back to the front, navigating the mountain road until they crossed into the old mining region with the town in the valley. Multicolored slag heaps from played-out mines colored the mountainsides around the town. They were a beautiful reminder of what was done to get at the gold in the Rocky Mountains. Thomas turned into the parking lot, and after paying, he found a spot and got out of the car.

“Wow, this place is cool,” Thomas said half under his breath. “It looks like a step out of time.” He swiveled his head, trying to take it all in. “Do you want to wander through town?”

“Sure,” Brandon answered, and they left the parking lot. The town did indeed look like something out of another era, with the old storefronts and saloons. “Oh,” Brandon said quietly. “They’re casinos. A lot of them.” He sounded disappointed. “I forgot that they went into gambling in a big way up here. There were a few of them that had been here a while, but I don’t remember this many.” He sighed, disappointment clouding his expression. “This used to be a really quiet, sort of living museum.” Some of the light went out of his eyes, and Brandon bit his lower lip.

Thomas couldn’t help sharing some of Brandon’s disappointment. “Maybe we can go to the station and ride the train like we planned?”

“Yeah.” Brandon gave himself a shake and led the way.

The train station did look like something from the nineteenth century, and the brightly painted train pulled in, making Brandon smile. Thomas wasn’t supposed to get so wrapped up in Brandon’s reactions, but it was hard not to. Thomas was finding it difficult to keep his distance.

“Let me take care of the tickets,” he said, approaching the window and giving his name. He paid for the tickets Brandon had reserved, and they waited in line for boarding, along with a throng of tourists. “Lots of people.”

“It’s tourist season,” Brandon said, lightly bumping his shoulder. “That’s okay. For today you and I can be tourists and have some fun.” He was practically bouncing again, and Thomas couldn’t help but share in his enthusiasm.

They boarded the train and found seats next to each other as the others filed on, filling the car. As they pulled away from the town and the casinos, they slowly wound up and through the mountains, where the abandoned and ghostly remains of gold-mining history passed outside.

“The slag heaps,” Brandon said, pointing.

“Yeah. They dumped the dirt just outside the mines,” Thomas said, and the recorded narration told of companies who came in to work the old slag heaps in search of missed gold, sometimes finding gold themselves. “It’s so peaceful out here.” Thomas took a deep breath of the mountain air as some of the years of built-up tension glided away.

The train car rocked a little, and Brandon lightly bumped him. He turned, and their gazes met once again. Brandon blinked, his thick lashes framing his incredible blue eyes. “Yes, it is. It’s like job searches and appointments, meetings, and all that other stuff doesn’t exist. At least for a little while.”

“What kind of job were you hoping to get?” Thomas asked. “I know being an assistant wasn’t your ultimate goal.” He swallowed hard, realizing he was getting the benefit of someone as organized and capable as Brandon only until he found another job.

Brandon chuckled and turned to look out the window. The train traveled along the side of a mountain, the peak on one side and a ravine with the creek on the other. It was a stunning view, but Thomas barely noticed it as the sun caught Brandon’s hair, setting it alight in an almost golden halo.

“I was hoping to get a job in the film or entertainment industry. Not as an actor or anything, but I have some experience—good experience, with results—and I was hoping it would get me noticed.” Brandon shrugged, but Thomas could tell he was covering up for a disappointment that went deeper than he was letting on.

Thomas put his arm around Brandon’s shoulder, and Brandon turned away from the view to look at him. Those eyes…. Thomas could get lost in those eyes, as big as the mountain sky and twice as beautiful. “You are going to find a great job, and someone is going to snatch you right away from me.” He flashed a smile of his own even as his gut clenched slightly at the idea, but he had to be reasonable. “Sometimes it takes a little luck, but perseverance almost always pays off.”

Brandon leaned against him for a second and then straightened up again. “Thanks, Thomas. I keep trying.” He sighed and leaned forward, and Thomas let his touch slip away. If that wasn’t welcome, Thomas certainly wasn’t going to press. He’d probably stepped over the line anyway.

“Sorry,” Thomas muttered and pulled his arm back, setting his hands in his lap.

Brandon flashed his blue eyes in his direction. “What for? It’s me who should be sorry,” he said softly. “I was leaning against you and….” Brandon’s eyes grew heated for a second, and then his lips curled upward and his expression grew animated. He laughed quietly.

“I don’t understand what’s funny,” Thomas grumped, then wished he hadn’t.

“Us.” Brandon’s laughter died away. “You were apologizing for having your arm around me, and I was apologizing for leaning on you.” He blinked, leaning a little closer. “And I liked both of them. They were nice.” He sat back, and it was Thomas’s turn to be confused, but only for a second, as Brandon once again leaned on him when the train began making a large loop through the old gold fields.

The recorded narration continued, but Thomas barely heard it, his attention riveted on everywhere Brandon touched him. His heart beat faster and he grew warmer by the second. He could simply move away and bring this gentle intimacy to an end that easily, but frankly he was afraid to move in case Brandon realized what he was doing. It felt so good—too good—being touched in such a simple way, rocking slightly along with the train as it made its way slowly along the tracks.

“Yes, they are.” Thomas expected guilt and recrimination to creep in. They always did, especially if he thought of Angus, and he did… way too damn much. But not this time. Sure, he thought about his ex for, like, two seconds, and then joy, happiness, and contentment washed in. He deserved those and let things be for now.

The train ride took an hour, and once they were back at the station, Thomas didn’t want to move. The others filed out, talking and laughing, rehashing the trip and what they liked best. Neither he nor Brandon moved for a full minute, and then Thomas slowly got to his feet, the fantasy over. He blinked and walked down the aisle, letting Brandon go first. They stepped off the train and out to the exit. People laughed and talked, scampering around him, and Thomas stood in the middle of the path, not moving.

“Thomas,” Brandon said as he tugged lightly at his arm. “We need to get out of the way.”

Thomas nodded and made his way down to the sidewalk. “Have you ever been in the middle of a crowd of people and felt utterly alone?” he asked just above a whisper.

“Yes. Definitely. Most of high school. I have friends and my grandma. My mom and dad aren’t part of my life very much. They don’t accept the fact that I’m gay, and refuse to have much to do with me. I don’t fit in with parts of my own family.” Brandon shrugged. “I know moving to a new place is hard, but you’ll meet people. It will happen. It just takes time. Ask your mom and dad. They know everybody, it seems.” Brandon smiled, but Thomas shook his head.

“That isn’t it. I have friends in New York, but I can still stand in a room there and be completely alone. I’m the boss—I see hundreds of people a day, and yet it’s mostly just business. We meet, come to an agreement, and they go back to their lives and I go home.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. You said you have friends. So call them and talk to them,” Brandon offered, and Thomas knew he wasn’t making himself plain. It wasn’t his friends or his business associates or even his parents that were the problem; it was him.

“There’s nothing they can do for me.” Thomas took a few more steps, then realized he’d already said way too much to someone he’d only met two days ago but already felt like he could say just about anything to. “God, I’m going crazy.”

“No, you aren’t,” Brandon said from behind him, and Thomas whirled around, not realizing he’d said that out loud. Brandon walked up to him. “You’re trying to find a new direction in your life, and that’s not easy for anyone.” He took Thomas’s hand right there on the street. “Finding a new way takes a leap of faith and some of that perseverance you were talking about before.”

Thomas coughed, his throat dry. Dammit, how had Brandon gotten so damn smart and observant? “It’s a pain in the ass is what it is. I had a life I understood that was reasonably predictable in its own way. I was calling the shots, controlling things in my life.”

Brandon started down the street, and Thomas walked after him. “So? Things are different now. This isn’t New York. It’s Colorado Springs. People here are different, but I think you’ll find they’re a whole lot easier to get to know.”

“Okay,” Thomas agreed. That was probably true. “But I’m not talking about that.”

Brandon stopped on the sidewalk. “I know what you’re talking about. You of all people should know that you can do any damn thing you put your mind to. You built buildings in New York, for God’s sake. You can do anything you want to do.”

Anything except shake the loneliness that had been with him for a long time. Thomas had just ignored it and gone on working, and now, after making this move, he had more time and couldn’t ignore it anymore. “That’s enough of this.” This topic was only adding to his depression, and he’d come here hoping for some fun. He led the way down the street. “We’re here, so let’s have some fun.”

“We could go down in the mine,” Brandon offered. “They have one where you can go a thousand feet underground and see the gold veins and stuff like that. It’s supposed to be pretty cool.”

“You’ve never done it?” Thomas asked.

Brandon paused. “Nope. We were supposed to do it when I was in school, but I hate enclosed spaces, so I asked my mom to send me a note and one of the teachers had to wait up top with me.”

“If you don’t like enclosed spaces, then why offer to go?”

Brandon shrugged. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed if that was something you really wanted to do.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s be real tourists and see what souvenirs they have. We can buy a bunch of crap and send it back to Marjorie and Blaze. They’ll think I’ve gone off my nut.” He found he liked that idea.

Brandon laughed. “What does Marjorie like? Does she collect anything?”

Thomas shook his head. “Nope. She’s a pretty no-frills, uncluttered kind of lady. At Christmas she brings in a small Christmas tree that she sets on one of the filing cabinets. That’s the only decoration she brings in of any kind. She’s amazing, don’t get me wrong, but in New York, space is a premium so….” He shrugged.

“Okay. Then how about we try to find the tackiest souvenir possible to send to her?” Brandon’s suggestion made Thomas grin.

“Awesome. We can each send her one and see which she complains about most.” That left them both cackling as they headed into the first shop.

The lady behind the counter turned to them both as they giggled their way into the shop. Thomas passed the samples of gold-bearing quartz and bottles with gold flakes to go to the racks of souvenirs.

“What on earth is this?” Brandon whispered and held up a dolphin bottle opener that said Cripple Creek on it.

Thomas laughed and held his side. “What does a dolphin in the water have to do with Cripple Creek? We’re at seven thousand feet.” He shook his head. “That’s definitely a contender.”

“Yup.” Brandon held on to the opener and continued looking. “Or maybe this?” It was a glass in the shape of a hunk of stone. “A rocks glass?” he quipped, and Thomas’s chuckle returned.

The lady behind the counter turned to give them both dirty looks.

In the end Brandon bought the rocks glass, and Thomas left with a package of bacon bandages.

“I don’t get it,” Brandon said when Thomas showed them to him.

“Marjorie is vegetarian, but she loves bacon. She has been largely vegetarian for as long as I’ve known her, but she eats bacon because she can’t bear to give it up.” Thomas tossed the package in the air and caught it. “What’s next?”

“Food?” Brandon suggested.

They’d eaten the snacks Brandon had packed in his pockets while they were on the train, and Thomas was starting to get hungry. They went into one of the saloons and sat down at the rough table. The server, wearing period garb, brought menus, and they ordered some nachos, which came served on a tin plate.

“They really need help with their authenticity,” Brandon whispered.

“Yeah, but can you imagine what the food would be? Beans, beans, beans, and jerky. That would be a really interesting menu.” Thomas was kidding, but it made Brandon smile again. He could become addicted to those smiles and would work to see them more often.

They ate, and drank plenty of water, which Thomas needed to remember to do until he got used to the altitude. Thomas paid the bill when it was presented.

“What else?” Brandon sat back in his chair. “Authentic or not, they were good.”

“Do you feel lucky?” Thomas asked, turning to the casino across the street. “We could see what Lady Luck has in store.”

“I don’t know how to play any of the games, and slots are a real waste of money.” Brandon shrugged. “I never had the inclination to play.”

“I’ll teach you. There are games that require skill as well as luck.” Thomas started across the street and into the Double Eagle Casino. He looked around. It was small compared to Vegas, with a number of slots and a few tables. “We can try our luck at blackjack. We don’t need to spend a lot.”

Brandon clearly wasn’t so sure, but Thomas ambled up to one of the tables with two empty seats. He pulled out a hundred and got chips, then passed half of them to Brandon. “Just have fun.”

“You sure?” Brandon asked.

“Yeah.” Thomas shrugged and placed a ten-dollar bet. Brandon bet five, and the dealer dealt the cards.

“Blackjack,” the dealer said when Brandon got an ace and king. He was paid, and they continued playing.

Thomas lost and placed another bet. This time the dealer went bust and both of them won. The next few hands were pretty abysmal, and they lost, their stacks dwindling.

“Maybe we should go?” Brandon offered, and Thomas nodded. He bet everything on the last hand and got a blackjack. Brandon won as well, and when they gathered the chips, they were five bucks ahead. Thomas cashed them in before they left the casino.

“Did you have a good time?”

“It was fun. But I always had to work too hard for my money to be able to gamble with it. I know it sounds dumb, and if you look on it as entertainment and are careful, it can be fun. But I was always too worried about losing what I had, so I never played.”

They continued down the sidewalk, passing a candy store that smelled heavenly of chocolate. Thomas veered inside and inhaled the delectable scent, his mouth watering. “I have a weakness…,” he confessed to Brandon. “Chocolate is like my kryptonite. I don’t have it in the house much because I’ll sit down and eat it all at once.” As he drooled over the chocolate case, Brandon pointed to a bag of caramel corn.

“This is mine,” Brandon said, and Thomas grinned as he placed a large bag of caramel corn on the counter and got some mint meltaways and coconut clusters. He paid for all the naughtiness, and they left the store. It was getting late in the day, and they decided it was time to head back.

“I hate times like this.”

“What?” Thomas asked.

“This was a lot of fun and I had a great time. But now it’s over and time to go back to work.” Brandon sighed. “Thank you for a fun day. I really appreciate it.”

They reached the car and got inside. Thomas started the engine and turned to make sure Brandon’s seat belt was fastened. Brandon looked back at him, his eyes once again filled with heat, which vanished within seconds. Thomas didn’t look away, half daring Brandon to do the same. The inside of the car grew stuffy and warm. Thomas tugged at his collar to alleviate some of the heat, even as the air-conditioning kicked on full. This game was becoming a little much, but Thomas ignored the tension and eventually blinked away the connection to put the car into reverse and back out of the parking spot.

 

 

“THANK YOU for taking me today. That was fun and something you didn’t need to do. I mean, I don’t think you’re paying me to be a tourist.” Brandon unlocked the house and went inside. Thomas followed him into the kitchen just in time to see Brandon snatch up his list of tasks. “It was a lot of fun.” Brandon scanned his list, and Thomas studied him, leaning on the counter. “What?”

“Nothing. I was just watching you.”

Brandon snorted softly. “You do that a lot.”

Thomas widened his eyes. Man, Brandon said what was on his mind. “I should go upstairs and change clothes.” Maybe he should disappear for a while. Brandon would certainly leave soon and give him a chance to breathe again.

“I still have a few errands to run for you.” Brandon left the room, and the thunk of the washer and dryer doors opening and closing reached Thomas’s ears, followed by the hum of the dryer. Then Brandon returned. “I need to get you some things or you’re going to be left high and dry in the bathroom.” He winked, and Thomas nodded. Obviously Brandon was all business, and that’s what he should be as well. “Look, today was great, but I know this was a one-off kind of thing. It was still a lot of fun, and I can’t wait to send our stuff to Marjorie.” He chuckled, and Thomas did the same, remembering the fun in the store.

It had been a long time since he’d laughed like that. Oh, he had fun sometimes, but not belly-laugh, let-it-all-go-and-just-be-yourself fun. That he’d have to scour his memory for, it had been so long. “Yes, it was. Today was kind of special.” He pushed away from the counter, then froze as Brandon caught his gaze, holding it. Thomas had imagined what Brandon’s lips would taste like for days, and he wondered if he was about to find out.

Thomas was afraid to move. If he did, he might chicken out. On the other hand, if he leaned forward, Brandon might do the same and then they’d be kissing, which could lead to Thomas finding out the answers to all those questions that he’d been asking himself every time he caught a glimpse of what was under Brandon’s shirt.

Hell, he shouldn’t be having these thoughts at all. Brandon worked for him, and Thomas should keep a professional distance, but that was hard when they’d just spent the day having a blast together. That, too, was his fault. He should have known better. He let himself get sucked in by Brandon’s blue eyes, and those full lips that just begged to be kissed. Thomas blinked, and Brandon seemed to have moved closer. Thomas held his breath and took a single small step forward, hoping Brandon would do the same.

He did. They were inches apart, and the dryer and every other sound in the house quieted, except for the beating of his heart in his ears. If he were honest, he wanted this.

Thomas’s reservations flew out the window and he started closing the distance between them.

His phone rang, chiming in his pocket. Thomas tried to ignore it, but Brandon had already pulled away. Thomas yanked his phone out of his pocket, huffing at Marjorie’s name on the screen. “I’d better take this,” he half growled.

Brandon nodded and turned away. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said softly, and hurried out of the room.

Thomas sighed under his breath as he took the call, wishing her timing had been better. So much better.