Epilogue
Ten’s phone vibrated on his hip. When he pulled it from the holster and saw that it was a text from Bas, he smiled.
Gone was the dread, the fear, the disgust at himself from before.
Now when he saw it, he still thought about jumping from the balcony into the pool to escape...into Bas’ loving arms.
“You’re different,” the same young singer that he had worked with on her last tour said to him. “You seem….happy.”
He grinned, and her eyes blinked in surprise, as if she had no clue that he even knew how to smile.
Oh, he knew how to smile alright. And he was doing it a hell of a lot these days.
“I am. You should try it sometime.”
“I’m not sure I know how to anymore,” she whispered as she lay her head on the back of the couch and stared at him.
“You don’t like singing? Or performing?”
“Not really. It’s changed so much. I’m no longer allowed to sing what I want to sing. I have to sing new shit all the time and all the old stuff is just gone….dead.”
“So? Tell your record people to fuck off.”
“Why not? Because it might mean smaller crowds or singing in smaller venues? So, fucking what? You’ve got more money than you could ever possibly spend. So, quit. Recharge. Go back to your roots of doing small paying gigs. I’ve seen YouTube videos of you back then and trust me, you were happy. You do know how to be happy, so do it.”
Her head lifted and at first she stared at him like he was insane, which was entirely possible considering he hadn’t been able to go home for a few days now. But then the fire lit in her eyes, she picked up her phone, swiped it to make a call and then pressed it to her ear as she marched into the bedroom, “Danny?” she said when her manager picked up, “We need to talk.”
“Oh boy,” Tegan said when he walked over to stand next to Ten, “You are going to have a lot of pissed off people surrounding you in about an hour.”
Ten chuckled, “Hopefully I’ll be gone by then.”
“Probably,” Tegan said with a sigh, “You do have that kind of luck, especially lately.”
Ten couldn’t help but grin, “Yeah, I do.”
“I’ll bet you’re going to be saying those words pretty soon, too.”
Ten froze. Marriage? They’d been living together in Bas’ house for eight months now. And while it was so damn good, he couldn’t help but wonder, are we there yet? Are we ready for that?
“Tenley Pinkerton, if you don’t marry that delicious hunk of man up, I just might to try for him myself.”
Ten glared. He knew his friend would never do that but still, he hated it when Teeg pushed his buttons.
“Like hell you will. That delicious hunk of man is mine, forever mine, and don’t you forget it.”
“Sounds like the perfect time to propose to him then, doesn’t it?
“You fucking asshole. I’ll do it when I’m ready and not a moment before.”
“What was that buddy?” Tegan said with a grin.
“I said I’d say yes before he even got all of the words out of his mouth.”
The door to the suite burst open and a very angry, red-faced Danny Moyer, the singer’s manager, burst into the room, “Out, get out!” he shouted.
“Out in the hall?” Tegan asked, needing clarification.
“No. Get the fuck out and don’t come back. I have no doubt that this shit is your doing, Pinkerton. So, get the fuck out. Your firms’ services are no longer needed nor wanted.”
Thank fuck.
Ten’s thumb was dialing Bas’ number before Danny finished talking. The grin on his face let everyone around him know that he didn’t give a shit about getting fired. All he cared about was one thing, one man.
“Baby? Get naked. I’m on my way home.”
Coming Soon from Kendel Duncan:
Finding My Way Out
Doyle Global Securities #3
Riott lowered down on the platform, “What?”
“I need you to shower and change. You’re serving for a VIP party,” Jamie yelled at him so he could be heard over the thumping music.
Riott frowned, “Do I get double pay?” he said because, really, when he was dancing he made a hell of a lot more money than he did when he was waiting tables. Besides, he fucking lived to dance. He lived for the freedom that he felt when he was just wearing his tiny jock and nothing else. But it wasn’t just the dancing, it was something more. He loved the high he got knowing all those eyes were on him, that everyone who was looking wanted him, wanted to touch him, wanted to own him. But he held all the power because Riott Flame belonged only to himself and that’s the way he liked it, thank you very much.
“Fine,” Jamie growled out.
Riott grinned as he opened the door to his cage. “Catch me beautiful,” he sing-songed as he jumped down into Jamie’s arms.
“Ugh, you’re all sweaty.”
“Just the way you like me, precious,” Riott grinned as he cupped Jamie’s face and planted a sloppy wet kiss on his lips.
Jamie pushed him back, “Dude. Knock that shit off. Go get changed. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
Riott waved an arm in the air, spun a perfect pirouette and swished his firm ass side to side as he walked through the crowd that parted for him like he was fucking Moses or some shit. “Sorry boys and girls. I’m needed elsewhere tonight. But I’m sure you’ve feasted your eyes enough to fill your spank-bank, yeah? Ta-ta kids.”
Jamie’s arms were crossed as he glared at Riott’s retreating back. That boy needs a Daddy, like yesterday, he thought. One who would love him the way that Riott deserved to be loved, the way he wanted to be loved. See, Jamie could see through all of Riott’s makeup, both the store-bought kind that he wore to change his appearance and the invisible kind that he wore to hide his pain. Riott was a man desperate to be loved. He was someone who had been knocked down by life and kicked in the gut so many times that he barely felt it anymore. He expected the worst because he always got the worst so he hid behind this veneer of indifference, this persona of someone who was confident and secure when inside he was actually lonely and scared.
Jamie had tried to set him up with a few Doms but none of them ever clicked with Riott, none of them could see past the mask he always wore. They were always so blinded by the beauty on the outside that they could see stunning man he was on the inside.
Jamie knew it though. He could see it. Not because he wanted Riott for himself. But he could see it because he loved the man more than he’d ever loved anyone.
Jamie finally turned to make his way to the kitchen to make sure the chef was aware of the private party.
*****************************
“Why can’t I drive my own car?” Case said when they stepped out the front door. Two black SUVs were idling in the huge circular driveway.
“Case, buddy. Tonight, we celebrate, tonight we let loose. Have a beer. Live a little,” Morgan said as he put an arm around Case’s shoulders.
“Shouldn’t you be looking for Bas?”
Morgan stiffened next to Case and for a moment he felt bad for what he said.
“I am looking for him, Case. I have people on the case, good people. There’s nothing I can do tonight but maybe I should stay here.”
“No, don’t. I, I’m sorry. I’m just uncomfortable with this and I lashed out. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Morgan grinned, “How many times did you have to say that in your head before you got it out?”
A small smile lifted the corner of Case’s mouth, “Three, maybe four.”
Morgan threw his head back and laughed and then they all piled into the two SUVs. Case tried to look at the navigation units for where they were going but apparently the drivers had been told so nothing was programmed in.
But as they drove through the streets, taking turns that Case was extremely familiar with, his heart started beating faster and faster and his stomach felt like it was in his throat.
Maybe he wasn’t working tonight. Please let him not be working tonight, Case thought as they pulled into the parking lot with the oh so familiar red W in neon on the front of the building.
Club Wicked.
A place that he had been to a dozen times but had yet to see the inside of.
He was very familiar with the parking lot though.
And also with a certain black and rainbow-haired lithe beauty with haunting green eyes named Riott Flame. A man with full red lips that he longed to taste, with a firm round ass that he longed to touch and feel, with a smile that could light up your heart on the darkest day and a man with a loneliness inside that Case ached to erase.
Riott had found him in the parking lot that first time just sitting in his car, trying to work up the nerve to go inside. Riott had scared the shit out of Case when he’d knocked on his window.
“Hey sugar, you having a good night?” he’d said.
“Not really,” Case had mumbled.
Riott had squatted down, his hand resting on the open window, “Beautiful things can happen if you go inside,” he whispered.
“Perhaps. Bad things can happen too.”
“What’s your name, beautiful?”
Case turned and Riott’s face was so close all he’d have to do was lean forward an inch, maybe two, and he’d have those lips.
“Case,” he whispered.
“Well, Case. I’m Riott. I hope I see you inside.”
Riott pushed to his feet but just before his hand slid away, Case reached up and touched his fingers. He heard Riott’s slight gasp when they touched and his own heart flip-flopped in his chest, “I like this,” Case whispered as he stroked his thumb over Riott’s black and purple glitter nail polish.
“Then it’s my new favorite. See you soon, Case,” he said and then he walked towards the club. Case snorted a laugh because walk was totally the wrong word for what Riott did – he swayed, he floated, his body claimed the air all around him as he moved. It really was the most beautiful thing Case had ever seen.
And he couldn’t have it.
He’d sighed as he started his car and drove out of the parking lot.
He’d done the same thing a half-dozen more times after that, the last two with Riott actually climbing into his passenger seat to talk to him for fifteen or twenty minutes before his shift started. Every time Case wished he had the guts to kiss Riott.
And every time he left that parking lot without knowing Riott’s taste.
“Fuck,” he whispered quietly as the driver shut off the car.
“Morgan, I’m not…”
Morgan put a calming hand on Case’s shoulder, “We’ll be in the VIP room in the restaurant, Case. You don’t have to see any other part of the club if you don’t want to.”
Case took a deep breath and nodded. He could do this. At least he hoped he could.
Case was relieved to find that, once inside, the bar and restaurant sat to the right while there was a second set of doors that led to the thumping music of the actual club and, thankfully, those doors were closed.
The VIP room was tastefully decorated with deep brown walnut panels and a table big enough to seat about twenty people. But it was the artwork in the room that held Case’s attention. In one corner was a two-foot-tall statue of a naked man and he appeared to be lost to the music in his head. His arms were wrapped around his torso, his feet were apart and Case would swear they were moving. His thighs were corded with thick muscles, his torso was rippling, his ass was round with two dimples at the top of each cheek and Case had a strange desire to stick his tongue in them. The man’s head was down, his hair hanging in a frame around his face. And his eyes were closed as he danced to whatever music only he could hear.
Case was struck with the strongest sense that this was something that this man did all the time. And he swore to never be the one to make a noise and break this beautiful dancer out of his spell. If he were ever lucky enough to witness something like this, he would stand silently and watch, waiting for the moment that the man opened his eyes and noticed him.
He took a few steps closer. He wanted to find something that indicated who the artist was but he was also afraid to touch the piece for fear that his shaking hands might knock it over.
He glanced to his right and saw the man, Jamie, who’d led them into the room. He caught his eye and motioned to the statue, “Do you, um, can you tell me who the artist is?”
A fondness filled Jamie’s eyes that told Case that not only did the man know who the artist was but that he adored the person too.
“He, uh, he usually likes to remain anonymous but let me talk to him to see if he’s okay with me telling you, okay?”
“Thank you,” Case whispered as his eyes were drawn back to the statue.
He turned to pull his chair out when a pair haunting green eyes had him trying to suck a breath into lungs that suddenly weren’t there.
He was there.
Not only was he there, but he was wearing skin-tight black leather pants, a black leather vest and, fuck, nothing else.
No shirt.
No shoes.
And no fucking sanity for Case Donner.
“Restroom?” he managed to choke out to Jamie.
“Second door on the left,” he said as he pointed to the door that led out to the hallway.
Somehow Case managed to get his feet to move and he stumbled down the hall, knocking the door into the wall when he shoved into the restroom.
He staggered to the sink and dry heaved twice before managing to stop his stomach’s revolt.
He stood there, gripping the sides of the sink as he sucked air into his lungs.
He heard the door open and even though he knew who it was, he still couldn’t manage to open his fucking eyes.
“Please,” he whispered but he had no idea what he was saying please for.
Please go away?
Please stay?
Please touch me?
All of those thoughts and more swirled inside of Case like a fucking category five tornado.
He heard paper towels being pulled and the sink next to him turned on for a second.
And then he touched Case.
Just a palm in the middle of his back but it was enough have Case’s body shivering and his dick rock-hard and throbbing in his slacks.
“Shhhh,” Riott whispered as he touched the cool wet cloth to Case’s forehead.
“Please,” Case whispered again.
“Nothing bad is going to happen here, Case,” Riott whispered.
The moment his name left Riott’s lips, pre-cum shot out of Case’s dick leaving a wet spot that everyone would see, but he no longer had the energy to care.
Case’s eyes flew open and he spun around, cupping Riott’s face between his huge hands. Now it was Riott’s eyes that closed, it was Riott’s body that began to tremble, it was Riott who whispered, “Please.”
“Fuck,” Case groaned. He pressed his lips to Riott’s forehead and held them there for a moment.
“Please,” Riott whispered again.
Case pulled back and waited for him to open his eyes, “I can’t,” he whispered.
Riott frowned and then hurt washed over his face.
Case pressed his lips to Riott’s forehead again, “I can’t,” he repeated, “Not here, not in this place,” he pulled back and looked into Riott’s eyes, “You deserve better than this, Riott. You deserve so much more.”
Riott gasped as tears filled his eyes and then he threw his arms around Case’s waist and pressed his cheek into his chest. “You are a good man, Case.”
Case’s hands cradled Riott’s head and back, “So are you, Riott. So are you.”
Riott pulled away and then his eyes went wide, “Oh shit! I got eyeliner on your shirt!”
He brought the wet towels up to clean it but Case grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “Don’t,” he whispered, “I like knowing you were there,” he said and then, with one final longing glance, he walked past Riott and out the door, buttoning his coat as he did to hide both the wet spot on his pants and the black mark on his shirt.
Morgan frowned at him when he walked back inside but he shook his head once at him as he pulled his chair out and sat down.
He was okay.
He would be okay.
Read on for more sneak peaks of upcoming books:
Coming soon from Dara Nelson:
Who We Used to Be – Devil Dog Motors #1
Zeke could hear the sounds coming from inside the house before he even stepped foot on the porch. Jesus, Bryan was never that loud when Zeke was fucking him. There were grunts, moans, and many cries of fuck, yes and right fucking there. Oh, and don’t forget the, Fuck, yes, Dane, I’m coming that he heard the moment he made eye contact with dear, sweet old Mrs. Grady from next door. She gave him a sympathetic smile and then disappeared inside. He didn’t blame her. He kind of wished he could run away too. He could. He could just climb back into his car and leave. Go to a bar, have a few beers and then come back after Bryan’s visitor was gone. He could pretend that nothing was going on, just like he’d been doing for the last two years or so.
But he was tired. So, fucking tired.
He was tired of the lies.
He was tired of feeling alone
He was tired of pretending that the man inside still loved him.
Tired of pretending that his heart wasn’t broken.
He slid his key into the lock and quietly pushed the door open.
He stopped by the coat closet and pulled his duffle bag off of the top shelf.
Then he turned to face the living room.
Almost everything in it was his but none of it meant anything to him. Nothing except for…
He crossed the room to the bookshelf and picked up the picture, the one of him with Linc, Reid and Kendry. The four of them dirty, dusty, tired as fuck….but smiling. Because it was them, they were together, they made it and they were all going home. Surprisingly most of them in one piece. It was the picture that Wave had taken, the one with his Purple Heart and Medal of Honor draped over the top of the frame.. Yeah, this meant something to him.
He slid it and the medals into the bottom of his bag then turned to make his way down the hall.
The bedroom door wasn’t even closed all the way.
He stood there for a few seconds like a voyeur, staring at the two sweaty men in the bed whispering to each other.
The man currently wrapped around Zeke’s boyfriend was bigger than him, definitely had more body hair than Zeke did but he stopped comparing the two of them when he saw the man’s huge cock sliding in and out of Bryan’s ass. Zeke was pretty big too, but this wasn’t a dick measuring contest – at least not anymore. Because the fucker was bare.
“I love feeling my cum in your ass, baby,” hairy fucker said with a rumble.
“Mmm, and I love feeling your huge cock in my ass.”
Okay, that was enough of that shit.
Zeke pushed the door open and walked from the door towards the closet, “Don’t mind me, I’ll be out of your hair in a second.”
The squeal that Bryan let loose was comical.
“Oh shit, Zeke, I uh, um, baby, um what….”
Zeke stuck his head out of the closet, “What, cat got your tongue, Bryan? Or should I say maybe mister bare dick does?”
“Zeke, babe, it’s not what it looks….”
Zeke threw his head back and laughed, “Dude, do not finish that sentence.”
Bryan crossed his arms and pouted, “I hate it when you call me dude.”
“Yeah? And I hate it when you fuck other guys. We’re even, asshole.”
He stomped over to the dresser and began shoving underwear and t-shirts into his bag.”
“Zeke, babe….”
Zeke turned and glared at Bryan, “Do not ever call me that again. Two weeks, Bry.”
“What?”
“I’m putting the house on the market in two weeks. That’s how much time I’m giving you to find another place.”
“What? But this is my home!”
“Was your home, Bry. Was. And it’s my home. Mine. It was mine before I met you and it’s mine now. And rather than burn the fucker to the ground, I’m going to sell it.”
He turned and made his way to the door.
“But what am I supposed to do?” Bryan whined.
Zeke stopped and looked back, “Frankly, Bry, I don’t give a shit. Have a nice life,” he said as he stepped into the hall but then he turned back, “Oh, and you might want to apologize to old Mrs. Grady.”
“What do you mean?”
“Fuck yes, right fucking there, and fuck, yes, Dane I’m coming? Really, Bry, you know how she feels about swearing. Language, dude. Watch your fucking language,” he said as he stepped into the hall.
“Zeke!” Bryan called from the bedroom when he was halfway to the front door.
“Two weeks, Bryan. I don’t ever want to see your lying, cheating face again,” he said and then he stepped outside, slamming the door behind him.
As he slid his sunglasses from his shirt pocket, he saw Mrs. Grady watching him from her porch. She gave him a smile and nod and with that, he walked over to his car, put his bag on the backseat and drove off.
He had no destination in mind, no idea what the future held.
But his heart felt lighter than it’d felt in fucking months.
Coming Soon from Dara Nelson:
Love After Heartbreak,
Healing Hearts #4 – Jake and Aiden’s story
Prologue
“You okay, babe?” Tony said as he rounded the end of couch with the bowl of popcorn and sees his husband frowning at his phone.
“I still can’t get ahold of Jake.”
“You mean since our wedding?”
“Yeah. It’s like he fell off the face of the planet or something.”
“Is there anyone else that you can call? Maybe someone who still works at his studio that you used to work with?”
“Not me. But maybe Braydon or Kelly might still talk to some of them.”
“Then call them.”
“But,” Connor says, looking over at the TV.
“Babe, the movie can wait. Call them. While you do that, I’ll try calling AJ.”
Connor frowned, “AJ? Why him?”
“They were both acting weird at the wedding. I think there might be a history between them or something? We talked about it that night, remember? When we were in bed?”
Connor smiled, “Babe. That was my wedding night. The only time I was really concentrating on your mouth was when it was wrapped around my….”
Tony pressed their lips together, “Careful babe.”
“Oh, come on, you love it when your lips are wrapped around my dick.”
“I do. But I also love it when you’re listening to me when I speak.”
“Aw, baby, don’t throw in the guilt card.”
“Throw it in? I own the guilt card,” Tony said with a laugh. “Make your call.”
“Yes, dear.”
************************
“Okay, thanks Kelly. Yeah, I’ll talk to you soon.” Connor said as he hung up the phone.
“Oh, um, sure AJ. Yeah, I understand. Sorry.”
“What?” Connor said.
Tony looked up at Connor, “We need to go to AJ’s shop.”
“We do?”
“Yeah. He’s acting really weird.”
“Like weird how?”
“Like not himself, weird.”
Connor frowned, “How do you know? I mean, he’s a tattoo artist and a graphic designer with this emo vibe. He’s always a little weird.”
“Yeah, I know but this was weirder than normal. Like cryptic, cagey,” Tony said.
“Okay, let’s go.”
They left the popcorn on the table and headed out.
When they walked into AJ’s tattoo shop twenty minutes later, they knew without a doubt that something was wrong when AJ looks up from behind the counter, panic fills his face and he mumbles, “Oh shit,” as he takes off running down the hall.
Tony and Connor frown at each other, “What the fuck?”
Then they are both running in the same direction.
They find AJ in what looks like a studio apartment, shoving clothes into a dufflebag while muttering to himself. He lets out an unmanly squeak when they shove open the door.
“He sent you, didn’t he? He promised he wouldn’t!”
“What? Who do you think sent us, AJ?”
His eyes dart around the room in panic. “Fuck!” he says and then all the strength seems to leave his body as he turns and slumps down on the end of the bed. His fingers are shaking as he moves to run them through his……
Connor frowns, “What the fuck did you do with your hair?”
AJ’s hair was this beautiful, inky, spiky black with sections of purple, blue and pink in it. Now, not only were the colors gone but almost everything was gone. He’d buzzed it all off.
AJ’s eyes dart to Connor, “I needed a change.”
“AJ, did Jake hurt you? Are you afraid of him?” Connor says with a frown. The Jake he knew was the sweetest, most gentle man he’d ever met.
“Not exactly”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s……..”
“If you say it’s complicated, I just might punch you in the face,” Connor said.
AJ smirked at him and it felt nice to see something on his face other than fear, it felt normal.
Connor liked normal. Normal was good.
He sighed out a deep breath, “It’s not him I’m afraid of.”
“Then who?”
AJ glanced out the window, “I, I can’t tell you. It’s safer that way. For you guys anyways, for everyone.”
Connor opened his mouth to argue but Tony put his hand on his arm. They exchange a look that says, Let me try, so Connor nods and keeps his mouth shut.
“AJ, we’ve been trying to reach Jake since our wedding but we can’t seem to find him. Do you know where he is?”
“Ummm,” AJ says as he scratches the back of his neck, “not exactly?”
Well, so much for Tony trying.
Connor had reached the end of his patience, “Okay. Enough of this cryptic bullshit. I want to know where my friend is right now or I’m calling the police.”
Panic bleeds out of every pore in AJ’s body as he looks up, “No! You can’t!”
“Why not, AJ?”
AJ’s hand yanks on the back of his neck, “Because, because he has too many connections. He’ll hurt him, Connor. If he finds out where he is and that I’m still in love with him, he’ll kill him.”
“What the fuck? Who AJ? Who the hell are you so afraid of?”
AJ looked up and a single tear slid down his cheek, “My father.”
Coming soon from Dara Nelson:
Better Latte Than Never – Love and Coffee #1
Remy stopped at the corner of the building to wipe his hands on his jeans….and give himself a pep talk…..and breathe…..and try not to panic.
“Okay, Rem. You can do this. You’ve been training. You’re good at it. You’ve got this.”
Yeah...he’s got this….
Except for the fact that this wasn’t going to be in his kitchen. This was in a coffee shop. With….people.
“Fuck,” he mumbled.
He checked his watch. He still had five minutes before his interview. Just enough time to try to zen himself out, take some deep breaths, try not to throw up, talk himself out of running.
“Fuck it,” he mumbled as he forced one foot in front of the other.
He could do this.
He had to do this.
He’d been afraid of his own shadow for far too long.
It was time to be…….
What? Normal? What did that even mean? Who decided what normal was anyways?
He stepped in front of the glass door and hesitated.
He had another brief moment of panic where he thought about running...again….but then he could feel that he was being watched.
He looked through the door to see a gorgeous woman with shiny black hair cascading around her shoulders and framing her ocean blue eyes.
His first reaction was to wonder what she was doing in a coffee shop when she belonged on the cover of every magazine.
His second reaction was to push open the door.
Oh god, he pushed open the door.
That meant that he had to step inside.
He was committed now….or maybe he needed to BE committed.
Either one was an entirely viable option right now.
He glanced back at the woman.
She had very kind eyes and she seemed to be patiently waiting for him to decide what he was going to do.
What was he going to do?
“You in or out, buddy?” someone said from behind him.
His head whipped around to find a man waiting to enter.
“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled as he stepped inside.
Once past the threshold, he took a few steps to the left to let the man pass by.
And then he found the woman watching him again.
She said something to the young man working with her behind the counter, then she stepped to the end and walked over to Remy.
“Are you Remy?” she said, thankfully keeping her hands to herself.
Rem managed to dip his chin and mumble, “Uh huh.”
“I’m Joan. I’m the manager here. How about we go back to the lunchroom where it’s more quiet, would that be okay?”
Remy forced his head to nod, “Yeah, um, sure,” he mumbled barely loud enough for her to hear.
As he followed behind her he stuck his hand into his pocket to run his fingers over the fidgeter he had - this one was peas in a pod. Not great but it helped in a pinch. He allowed the repetitious feeling of the fake peas sliding up and down to calm him.
“Have a seat,” she said as she pulled out one of the chairs at the round table for him and then sat in the one across from it.
She pulled out her phone and scrolled through as she talked, which at first struck him as really rude but then she set it down on the table and he felt like a judgemental idiot when he saw his resume on the screen.
“So, first off, I don’t see any other coffee shops listed in your employment history. Actually, the only thing I see listed is that you’re currently employed at, um, Joyful Cross Stitch, is that correct?”
His fingers drew circles on the table as he nodded his head.
“That’s that crafts and knitting store down the block, correct?”
Another head nod.
“Do you want to continue working there at the same time? I’m just trying to determine if there will be any conflicts.”
He finally lifted his head to look at her, “Oh, um, no conflicts. Joy, that’s my Mom and the owner of the shop, is more than willing to work around my hours here. Really I’m just there to help her out.”
Joan hummed as she stared at Remy while his eyes darted anywhere in the room but on her face.
On the surface, he was a definite no. He was afraid of his own shadow, how could he possibly interact with the customers and make them feel welcome?
But underneath all of that….noise….Joan sensed something.
Her eyes darted to the older model espresso machine they kept on the counter. She tilted her chin at it, “Make me something.”
He followed her line of sight and pushed back his chair, “Okay, what would you like?”
“A latte, with a design.”
He glanced back at her and she immediately noticed that he wasn’t nervous….at all, “What design would you like?”
She shook her head, “Nope. I want you to design what you think I should have.”
“Okay,” he said as he stepped up to the machine.
“Milk is in the fridge to your right.”
She watched as Remy adjusted the knobs, replaced the grounds, and maneuvered around the machine like it was a part of him, like he was born to do this. HIs concentration was impeccable, his confidence unwavering - so unlike the shy, timid man he had shown before. He opened the fridge and turned to her, “Whole milk okay?”
Normally she did drink whole milk but she knew that making designs with the less fatty two percent was more of a challenge so she opted for that one.
Her choice didn’t even seem to faze him.
As the espresso dripped into the coffee cup, he steamed the milk.
His tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth was the only indication of his deep concentration as he poured the milk into the cup with the slow, practiced flourish of seasoned coffee artists.
He set the cup down in front of her and stepped back, waiting for her to look at his design.
There was so much detail in it that, despite the white color, she instantly knew it was a cornflower.
“Why a cornflower?” she said as she looked up at him.
“It’s the same blue as your eyes,” he said.
Wow.
Okay.
Wow.
She slowly brought the cup up to her lips, blowing slightly before taking a sip. She savored the smooth, rich taste as it slid down her throat; buttery, not burnt…...perfect.
She set the cup back on the table, “When can you start?”
Coming Soon from Dara Nelson:
Pretty Boy and Ugly Man –
A Gay Fairytale
Logan tucked his hands farther into the pockets of his leather jacket and ducked his head the moment he heard the wolf whistle. It felt like a thousand heads turned to seek him out as he braced for the words that inevitably came next.
He wasn’t disappointed.
Well, actually he was.
“Hey, pretty boy. I’ll bet I could find a good use for those lips!”
Inwardly, he cringed while on the outside he tried to appear unaffected, as if he hadn’t heard those words ten thousand times before.
“Has anyone ever told you that you look like……”
Okay, that was enough.
“Yes!” he shouted as he froze and turned to face the current crop of men harassing him. “I’ve heard it all before. ALL. OF. IT!”
His breath sawed in and out of his lungs as he stood there.
He knew he was an idiot for stopping, a fool for reacting to their words.
But he was so done with all of this bullshit.
His looks had got him nothing but heartache, nothing but pain, nothing but emptiness.
On days like this he just wanted to take a razor to his face. He wanted the exterior to match the ugliness he felt inside.
For once in his life, why couldn’t he just feel normal?
“Oh, you’ve heard it, huh?” the man in the middle said as he took a step towards Logan. “Well then, maybe I’ll shut the fuck up and use the tools that God gave me to shove that attitude right up your sweet ass. What do you think, boys? Want to help me give the pretty boy an attitude adjustment?”
It wasn’t until that very second that Logan realized how big these fuckers were. Like really big.
Logan’s eyes darted around to see if he could find an escape route….or maybe some help?
Seeing as it was almost midnight, the shops around him were all closed, and the few people he did see out all kept their eyes averted as they quickened their pace.
“Look,” Logan said as he held his hands up and took a step back, “I didn’t mean for it to sound rude, guys. I just, I’ve been dealing with this face for a long time. My whole life actually,” he said with a grin so phony the Mona Lisa would’ve cringed.
He was hoping a little humor would help get him out of this mess.
When big boy’s hands moved to the belt on his jeans, he knew he was shit outta luck.
He tried to take another step backwards but couldn’t when he ran into a brick wall.
A warm, breathing brick wall with a heart tapping out morse code against Logan’s back.
Fingers came up to grip Logan’s biceps.
Logan inhaled and opened his mouth to scream but it died the moment the sexy words rumbled out of the chest behind him. “Move along, gentlemen. This boy is not for you.”
Angry big boy crossed his arms over his chest, “And what gives you the right to have him? We saw him first.”
“He’s not the last tomato at a salad bar, he’s a fucking human being,” the sexy man behind Logan said with a growl.
“With a smart fucking mouth!” angry dude said, taking a step closer.
“Martin, shut the fuck up,” his friend next to him said as he grabbed onto the sleeve of Angry dude’s t shirt and tried to pull him back.
“What, why?” he said as he looked at his friend.
“Don’t you know who that is?” his friend whispered.
“No, should I?”
“That’s old man Archer.”
Angry - or Martin apparently - snorted, “It is not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“He hasn’t set foot outside for ten fucking years,” Martin said, whispering the final word as his eyes went wide, “Holy shit, it is you!”
“Like I said, this boy is not for you,” Brickwall, or Old Man Archer, said, his voice so deep and growly that it made Logan’s cock twitch. But then he just felt yucky because, hello, old man Archer????? Gross.
The three men who had started this whole mess began to back away as Martin said, “We don’t want any trouble, dude. Pretty boy is all yours.”
Logan clenched his teeth so hard he heard his jaw crack. He took a deep breath and let it out, “Look, I appreciate the help and all but I am not,” he spun around, expecting to find some creepy old man. But he saw eyes as blue as the sea, as haunted as a graveyard and as sad and lonely as his own heart felt. The man was so beautiful he stole Logan’s breath, until he turned lifted his head a little and Logan got a look at the right side of the man’s face. Jagged scars criss crossed over puckered, burn-healed skin. Part of the right corner of his lips was missing. The man watched Logan, studied him, perhaps waiting for a reaction that he’d had a thousand times, the same way that Logan had, a gasp of fear, a sneer of disgust, eyes that turned away..
But he wasn’t going to get that, not from Logan Price. Logan’s fingers clutched the man’s t shirt as he couldn’t help but finish his sentence. “Yours,” he whispered.
The man’s eyes went wide with surprise as Logan slowly reached up to cup the rough skin on the man’s face, skin that, in Logan’s eyes made the man so fucking perfect it overwhelmed him.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.