Undeniable Magnetism

UNDENIABLE MAGNETISM

Bonnie Dee

® www.loose-id.com

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Undeniable Magnetism Bonnie Dee This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright © March 2008 by Bonnie Dee All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-650-7 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Barbara Marshall Cover Artist: Croco Designs

Dedication Thanks to T.A. Chase for his advice and information.

Chapter One

It was a good day. Hell, a great day. No particular reason. Things hadn’t really gone that smoothly. The beer delivery had been late, and there was a discrepancy in the cash drawer after Sylvia’s shift. But none of that mattered. There was something special about today. Something coming. He could feel it, and he’d learned to trust his intuition. His mom swore her mother had had the second sight. Jay didn’t believe he was blessed -- or cursed -with his grandmother’s gift, but he could sense things sometimes, situations about to go sour or things about to take a turn for the better, like today. He whistled tunelessly as he took inventory of the shining bottles of liquor. Needed more J.D. and Cutty, but the Dewars would hold. “How about the Pistons last night? Some fourth quarter, eh?” “Did you bet on it?” He walked to the end of the bar where Gunderson sat nursing his second beer of the afternoon. The old man was a fixture on his stool almost every afternoon and right through till about midnight. It got tiresome listening to him ramble about the past or rant about big government, but Jay figured that was part of the service he offered. Somebody had to listen.

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Leaning on the counter, he shot the shit with Gunderson, nodding in the right places and making eye contact, but also glancing past him at the rest of the pub. An exit sign had burned out, the windows needed washing, and Sylvia hadn’t filled the pretzel bowls before she’d left. It was still early. Nobody much here except the old man and a young couple in the corner engaged in a serious argument. Occasionally their voices rose almost loud enough to make out the words then faded back to a viperous hiss. The outside door opened, and a man stood silhouetted against the sunlight. When the door closed behind him, Jay saw it wasn’t anyone he knew. The man’s skin was milk chocolate. His closely shaved scalp gleamed in the dim light. He wore a white button-down shirt and slacks. In the dim light, the whites of his eyes gleamed as he scanned the room. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and strode smoothly across the room toward the bar. An athlete, perhaps, with that height and grace. “Hold that thought, Max.” Jay cut off Gunderson’s flow of words and moved to wait on the new customer, who’d taken a seat at the bar. He stopped in front of the man, took one look into his deep brown eyes, and knew this was the special thing that was coming his way. A surge of excitement rose in him, and it wasn’t merely the lift of his dick as it filled the front of his jeans, but a fluttering thrill deep inside that told him, This is someone special. Jay braced his hands against the bar, leaning slightly into his customer’s personal space. “Hey. What can I get for you?” He smiled and lowered his eyelids and his voice a little, hinting at another meaning. The man’s gold-flecked brown eyes widened in response, but he quickly looked past Jay’s shoulder at the bottles on the wall. “Grey Goose. No ice.” Jay turned to get the drink, still smiling. Yeah, this is going to be a very good day.

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Simon watched the bartender’s ass as he reached for the bottle. Tight jeans, tight ass, molded together in an eye-catching display. “I’m Jay,” he said as he poured the vodka. “Simon.” He took the glass and sipped, suddenly dry-mouthed and very thirsty. Jay’s eyes showed interest. There was no mistaking the quick scan of his body or the smirk in his smile when their eyes met. Simon swallowed too fast and nearly choked. God, how he hated this part, the push and pull of two men sounding each other out. There was always the chance he’d misread the signals, make a suggestion and be rejected or even get his face punched. He wished he could simply move past “getting to know you” straight to sex, since that’s all he wanted. He wasn’t planning on having a relationship with anyone and probably never would. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t even been looking today -- just came in for a drink. This wasn’t a gay bar, but a typical corner pub. Simon hadn’t expected to find an opportunity to let off steam, but then the bartender practically winked at him with those blue eyes and suddenly the afternoon was fraught with possibility. “Where do you work?” Jay asked. “Dunham and Chase Advertising.” “That sounds…” He interrupted himself with a laugh. “I’m not going to lie to you and say it sounds interesting, but I’m sure it beats spending every afternoon with Max here.” He nodded toward the old man a few seats down, who was gazing morosely at his nearly empty glass. Max didn’t seem to hear and, a moment later, climbed off his stool and shuffled toward the men’s room. The bartender leaned against his folded arms on top of the bar, inclining his body toward Simon, invading his personal space. A smile quirked his lips, and Simon guessed it was always there, that glimmer of humor lurking just below the surface. “So, do you like your job at Dunham and Chase?”

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That was a question Simon avoided facing every day. He’d allowed himself to be sucked into his father’s business and so that’s where he was. Like or dislike didn’t enter into it. “It’s financially sound.” Unless clients keep slipping away, which they will, if Dad doesn’t allow

us to get with the times. “Mm.” The low vibration of Jay’s murmur of assent made Simon’s skin prickle. “This place isn’t.” Jay indicated the building around them. “But it’s all mine and that’s cool. Bought out my partner last year so I own it for better or worse.” Nodding, Simon searched for something nice to say about the crummy tavern. “It’s very…” “Run down? Decrepit? Or, as I prefer to say, lived in? Yeah, I know I have some repairs to make. But the customers are regular and the bills get paid, more or less, so I can’t complain.” He glanced around the room. “I’ve been considering taking out a small business loan and doing a complete makeover. You think a facelift can draw a more upscale crowd in here?” “Honestly, I don’t think yuppies are your target market. Not in this neighborhood, no matter how much you spruce it up.” The bartender nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of.” “Better to play to your strength, sell it as an old school, ‘everybody knows your name’ tavern, and try to draw in the disenfranchised middle class from other areas of the city who are tired of their local pubs being transformed to trendy bars. They’ll make the trip across town if the ambiance draws them.” “Hah, I knew you were more than just a pretty face. Thanks for the advice.” His flashing smile displayed the merest suggestion of dimples in each cheek that came and went like lightning, as did the heat in Simon’s groin. Except that heat didn’t leave, but settled there and burned warmly. “So, you’re good at your job?” Jay said.

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“I guess I am.” “You don’t sound sure. Or, at least, you don’t sound like you enjoy what you do very much.” Simon shrugged, uncomfortable with discussing his feelings about his work. “The most exciting job in the world probably gets boring after years of doing it.” “True enough, I suppose, but that’s when it’s time to switch jobs.” Jay held up a finger. “Just a minute.” He came out from behind the bar and walked to a table in the corner a couple had just vacated. The door was still swinging closed behind them, letting a few rays of sunlight into the gloomy room. He picked up glasses, wiped the table, then returned to the bar, where he set the glasses and rag down and sat on the stool beside Simon. His presence radiated heat and energy, and Simon couldn’t stop sneaking glances at the muscular forearm resting on the countertop so near his own. Fine brown hairs matted it. He longed to brush his finger through the soft fuzz and feel the strength and warmth of the body beneath. He focused his attention back on his glass and saw it was already half empty. “Is your business nearby?” Jay asked, leaning on an elbow and facing him. Simon glanced up and was caught by the other man’s eyes. They were almost unearthly in their sapphire brilliance. “I…uh… No. I was meeting a client out this way. The discussion was a little intense, so when I passed your place, I thought I’d stop for a few minutes and destress.” “Need another one?” Jay nodded at his drink. “Guess not. I should probably get back to the office.” “Naw.” Jay’s warm grin crinkled the corners of his eyes and made them shine even bluer. “Remember back when you used to play hooky from school? Stolen moments are the sweetest. Everybody’s gotta have an afternoon off now and then.”

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“I never skipped school.” Simon smiled briefly. “I’m afraid I was one of those nerdy kids who got a certificate for perfect attendance at the end of the school year.” Jay’s grin turned to a laugh. “I bet you were! You seem like a ‘toe the line’ kind of guy.” Instinctively, Simon glanced at the mirror behind the bar to see what Jay saw. Did he really look as uptight as he knew he was? Did he walk around as if he had a poker up his ass? All the mirror showed was a couple of guys sitting at a bar, one dark-complexioned, one light, one tall and lean, the other muscular and stocky. They looked very different. Simon had no doubt they were. “What makes you think I wasn’t a real rebel?” “Something about your eyes.” Jay met his gaze in the mirror. “I’m guessing you don’t like to step outside the box too much. You don’t strike me as a hell-raiser.” “Let’s see. I’ve never ridden a motorcycle, never received a ticket, not even for illegal parking, and never been in a fistfight.” He ticked the items off on his fingers. “Yeah, I guess I’m not much of a rebel, although I’ve smoked a joint on occasion.” One sandy eyebrow lifted, and Jay looked from the mirror into Simon’s eyes. “Is that an invitation? I can give old Gunderson another drink then turn the sign to ‘closed’ for a while.” His voice was a sexy, husky rumble that made Simon’s already stiff cock swell even harder. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean… I don’t have any pot on me. I meant in the past I’ve occasionally indulged.” Simon knew he was talking too fast in his sudden nervousness and sounded like a priggish dork. The bartender wasn’t asking him to smoke dope with him. Something else was about to happen here. The tension floating in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Jay’s blue eyes had darkened to indigo. “I’ve got something guaranteed to de-stress you,” he continued in the same suggestive tone. “Come back to my office and I’ll show you.” Here it was, one of those pivotal moments when everything could turn on a dime. Did he want to take this stranger up on his offer or return to the stifling sanity of a normal afternoon’s work? Simon’s heart raced. It was all too new for him, the random hooking up

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with men. It had taken this many years for him to admit to himself where his sexual interest truly lay, and falling into abrupt, unexpected encounters still made him feel awkward and guilty. Or maybe Jay really was talking about smoking a joint, in which case, wouldn’t he feel like an idiot if he leaned in for a kiss and was refused? Better to keep silent and pretend he hadn’t understood the offer. Simon gazed down at his drink, breaking off the intense visual connection between them. After a moment’s silence, Jay continued, “You know, my mom always says unexpected adventures are the spice of life and make it more exciting. She’s a bit of a bohemian, though. Never was like the rest of the moms in the neighborhood.” Simon cleared his throat, unsure how to respond to a statement like that. “It’s going to be quiet here for at least another hour before the regulars start trickling in. I sure would like to make it an afternoon to remember instead of just another day.” He was saved from having to respond when the old rummy from the end of the bar returned from the men’s room, settled on his stool, and began telling them a story about his military days in Okinawa. “Of course, this was long after the war. I never saw any active duty in all my years in the army. But I did see a lot of action while stationed in Japan, if you know what I mean. The girls there…they were everything a man dreams of -- quiet and respectful, the way a woman should be, and with those dark exotic eyes that looked like a mystery.” He smiled into his beer at the memory. “Tiny tits though, most of ’em.” The corners of Jay’s mouth were trembling with suppressed amusement as his gaze met Simon’s. The bartender slid off his stool and headed back behind the counter. “I can show you what we talked about in my office, if you want to see it,” he said to Simon, as he reached for the old man’s glass and refilled it from the tap. He set the foaming beer in front of him. “This should do you for a while, Max. Mind the bar for me. I’ll be back out in about twenty minutes, okay?”

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The old man nodded and grabbed the handle of the mug. “Should’ve married one of them girls, brought her back here to live. Those were the type of women that knew their place. Any one of ’em would’ve made a better wife than the one I ended up with.” He lifted the mug and took a sip. Jay looked at Simon again and jerked his head toward the back of the building. “Come on.” He raised his eyebrows, turning the command into a question. The lure of boardrooms and conference calls wasn’t nearly as strong as the pull of those nearly peacock blue eyes. Simon rose from his seat and followed Jay.

“Man hates his wife, eh?” The tenor of the big man’s voice was as dark and rich as his skin. His simple question sent a shiver of lust through Jay that settled warmly between his legs and made his cock throb with desire. “Man misses his wife. She left him about ten years ago,” he replied, moving around the perimeter of the pool tables toward the door to his office. “Complaining about her and comparing her to what a woman should be is ninety percent of his chatter.” “The old coot’s pretty small-minded.” Jay shrugged. “Like a lot of that generation is about women, race” -- he paused with his hand on the doorknob and glanced at the man next to him -- “sexual orientation.” Opening the door, he led the way into his cramped office. He wished it were cleaner or at least neater. There were bills, ledgers, and papers piled on his desk beside the bulky, outdated computer terminal. One wall was covered with shelves holding baseball and hockey trophies from all the way back to his high school days through the community leagues he played in now. There were also a few copies of Men and Out magazines. “Sorry it’s such a mess, but then we’re not here for the atmosphere, are we?” He opened the middle desk drawer and rummaged through it, searching for condoms.

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Simon didn’t say anything, and when Jay glanced at him, he was checking out the cover of a back issue of Men. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and he quickly looked away from the half-naked model on the cover. His tongue swept over ripe, full lips that Jay wanted to bite like a juicy plum. “Look, I’m not used to doing this kind of thing, especially with only two minutes of conversation leading up to it.” Jay was torn. His natural inclination was to tease, to ask with all the indignation he could muster what the hell Simon thought he’d brought him back here for, then watch him squirm -- see how a blush colored that brown skin. But the guy seemed so nervous and freaked he might not take a joke well, and then Jay could miss out on an opportunity for something special all because of his persistent and often inappropriate sense of humor. “Hey, we can do slow and easy if that’s what you want.” He lowered his voice to a husky drawl as he moved from behind the desk and approached the other man. “I can wine and dine you, set up a date for dinner, clubbing, a movie, whatever. I’d be happy to get to know you better before…” He trailed off, but gave Simon a smile indicating there was no doubt what any date would eventually lead to. Jay stared straight into eyes several inches above his own. They were a medium golden brown and earnest as hell. Made him want to tease and prod all the more, but he kept his voice level and took another step closer. “But you said you had tension you need released, and I’d love to take care of that for you right now.” There was an audible click in Simon’s throat as he swallowed again; then he exhaled shakily. “I’d, uh, like that.” Reaching out, he touched Jay’s forearm, ran a finger down it, making his flesh tingle and his cock throb even hotter. “I’d like that a lot.” Simon smiled, and the aura of confidence surrounding him when he’d first strode into the bar returned. “Sorry to be such a little girl about this.” “No problem.” Jay grinned. “Although I’m glad you’re not.” A flicker of confusion crossed the topaz eyes, and he clarified, “A little girl.”

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Simon’s smile widened to a white-toothed grin, and he chuckled, a sound as smoky and smooth as single malt scotch. That did it. Jay stepped in close, slipped a hand around his waist, and leaned in to cut off the laughter with a kiss. The man’s lips were soft and warm and yielded sweetly beneath his. Jay tasted a sharp tang of vodka as he teased his tongue between the cushioned warmth and slid it over the velvet softness of Simon’s tongue. There was no hesitation in the way the other man returned his kiss. It was as if he’d used up all his hesitation and reservations during the preliminaries and was now ready to get down to business. A strong hand splayed at the small of Jay’s back while the other wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. Jay’s chest pressed hard against the other man’s solid body, T-shirt to Oxford, and his jean-clad erection rubbed against an answering bulge beneath a pair of dress slacks. The delectable friction made him groan. Simon kissed the hell out of him, taking possession of his mouth and not letting go until he was breathless. When he finally did pull away, Jay sucked in air and gasped, “Damn! I knew this was going to be a good day.” He would’ve liked to spend more time just kissing, followed by stripping this man down to the skin so he could check out every inch of his body, but he needed to get back out to the bar. Today would have to be a quickie. Another time he’d take his time. Jay ran his hands down the white dress shirt to the waistband of the dark gray trousers, a classy brand he had no doubt, although he wouldn’t recognize expensive if he saw it. He could almost count the number of times he’d worn slacks in his life, being more of a jeans kind of guy. With deft fingers, he unfastened, unzipped, and pulled both trousers and underwear down Simon’s hips. His cock sprang forth, long, thick, and as dark as teak. It reminded Jay of a primitive totem standing proudly erect and waiting to be worshiped. His own cock throbbed and pressed hard against the seam of his jeans, begging to be let out, too, but he was single-minded in fulfilling what he’d promised Simon he’d do for him -- take away his tension.

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Dropping to his knees, Jay faced the stranger’s groin and took the length of his dick in hand. For a few moments, he simply examined the color, texture, and weight slipping smoothly against his palm. The head was a nearly purple round cap and every vein in the thick shaft throbbed with life. Simon shifted restlessly, anticipating what he would do next. Jay loved the sense of power it gave him. Holding a man’s cock was like getting a hand on the gearshift of his car. The control belonged to the one in the driver’s seat. He glanced at the man standing before him and thought how strange and exciting it was to be doing something so intimate with a person he’d met less than an hour before. There was a forbidden element to it that amped the eroticism up to a nerve-tingling tension. He gazed at the white beads of cum already seeping from Simon’s erect cock, craving just a taste before he covered the beautiful member in latex. But safety was a necessary part of the game. Jay reluctantly released his prize, took the condom from his jean pocket, ripped it open, and rolled it down the length of the shaft. The dark beauty was filmed in white, and Jay made a mental note to keep a better selection of colors on hand. Wrapping his hand around Simon’s cock, Jay bent forward and slowly licked all the way from base to tip. Simon watched with slightly parted lips and half-lidded eyes. Jay kept his gaze fixed firmly on the other man’s face since he enjoyed it when a partner maintained eye contact with him. Making that connection was important, he thought; otherwise, why choose one particular man over any other? Even a casual encounter deserved full attention for the brief time of sharing, and he hoped Simon would turn out to be much more than a one-off. He pursed his lips and planted a kiss on the head, then drew it slowly between his lips. The potent flavor of anise burst on his tongue. God fucking bless the creative brilliance of whoever had developed flavored condoms. Jay’s personal favorite was licorice rather than some sweet, fake-fruit flavor. The heat of Simon’s cock burned right through the latex and the weight filled his mouth as he swallowed its length. He gripped the shaft within the tight circle of his hand and moved it up and down.

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Simon gave a low groan that set the hair on Jay’s nape prickling. He sucked hard enough to hollow his cheeks and jerked roughly, the way he himself liked it when he was in a hurry. Part of him wanted to slow down, restart the entire encounter and take more time working up to the blowjob. Some things shouldn’t be rushed. But another part of him was so aroused he could hardly see straight. His cock pressed painfully into the seam of his jeans. He was aware of the hard linoleum floor under his knees, the faint musty smell that had permeated this office since long before he took over the business, the taste of licorice, and feel of hot, hard flesh in his mouth and hands. He slipped his hand between smooth brown thighs and fondled Simon’s scrotum. A dark tangle of pubic hair faced him as the other man thrust his groin toward him. Jay moved his hand even farther back, along the soft seam of flesh between balls and anus. He found the small, puckered opening behind and inserted the tip of his finger. It was a tight fit and the ring of muscle clenched hard around his unlubricated digit. But he pressed farther inside, searching for the sweet spot. He knew when he’d found it. “Oh, God.” Simon’s moan and the quick jerking of his hips signaled his rapidly building orgasm. His hands gripped either side of Jay’s head, fingers twisting in his hair, as another of those sexy, long, low groans rumbled from his throat. “Now. Now!” Jay finished him off with a few deft pulls of the hot, hard flesh. The penis in his mouth engorged even fuller before it released in a rush of warmth. A glow of satisfaction pulsed in him at the sound of Simon’s gasping cry of relief. He looked up at the other man’s face, appreciating the nearly tortured look of ecstasy that twisted those fine features. Simon’s dark brows were knitted and his eyes closed. His full lips were open, and Jay couldn’t help but imagine them wrapped around his cock. He gave the heavy organ in his hand a final tug and squeeze as he released it from his mouth. Rising to his feet, he pulled Simon into his embrace, wrapping his arms around him tightly. A shiver passed through the other man, a final pang of ecstasy releasing. Jay smiled. “Feeling more relaxed?” he murmured.

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“I’ll let you know when I can talk again.” Simon’s comment made him chuckle. A few moments passed in the dusky, dank silence of the office, and then Simon pulled away, his hands lingering for a brief moment at Jay’s waist before letting go. “Thank you,” he muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. “That was…great. I should… Do you want me to…?” He gestured toward the straining bulge in the front of Jay’s jeans. Jay assessed his new friend’s stammering offer. If Simon was that uncomfortable talking about it, he wasn’t ready to do it -- not like this, so sudden and rushed. It would be better to take it slow. When Simon didn’t have to ask, when he was desperate to get into Jay’s pants and draw his cock into his mouth, then Jay would wholeheartedly accept his gesture. Unable to believe he was actually turning down the offer of a blowjob when his aching cock was begging for it, he answered, “No. But thanks. I really should get back out to the bar before Max drains my taps dry.” He paused, then added, “Next time?” Simon stripped off the condom, zipped his fly, and tucked his shirttail back into the tailored slacks. He drew a deep breath and let it out, glanced at Jay, then immediately looked away. “Uh, thanks for this. It was an…unexpected turn in the afternoon. But I doubt I’ll see you again. I don’t…I don’t get involved.” A sharp pang of disappointment twisted Jay’s gut, but he nodded. “I get it, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Simon wouldn’t meet his gaze. His tongue flicked over his lips, and he took a step toward the door. “I’m sorry.” Jay shrugged. There wasn’t a lot you could reply to an apology that someone didn’t mean. At least the guy didn’t give him a false promise of a phone call. He appreciated that bit of honesty. He led the way back to the bar. Max looked up as they entered. “You didn’t miss anything.” He gestured at the TV. “Just the Cubbies getting their butts handed to them.”

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Simon paused near the bar, and Jay could tell from his tense posture how awkward and uncomfortable he felt. “Again, thanks.” “No problem. My pleasure.” Jay grabbed a cocktail napkin and scribbled his cell phone number on it. He thrust it toward Simon. “If you change your mind.” The dark eyes scanned the number. He nodded and thrust the napkin into his pants pocket. “Well…good-bye.” Simon turned and strode away. Once more the door opened, letting in the orange glow of late afternoon sunlight and silhouetting the man in the doorway before closing behind him. Jay leaned on the bar and stared at the scarred surface he’d promised himself he’d strip, sand, and varnish before winter. He glanced down at the other end of the bar. Max pointed to his empty mug, and Jay went around the counter to fill it for him. So, that was it. The extraordinary thing he’d sensed had come and gone. The encounter had been hot and unexpected, even if he didn’t get to come, but now he felt let down and empty. Would he ever see Simon again? His intuition didn’t give him a clue this time.

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Chapter Two

“Did you get the account back? That’s all I want to know.” His father’s voice was growing tighter by the second. He never raised it. Never needed to. The quiet tension was enough to make most men crumble and start babbling whatever they thought he wanted to hear. “No. I didn’t get the account,” Simon had to admit. “We’re getting closer, hammered out some issues, but rebuilding Zimmerman’s trust is going to take some time. Please, just give me a few days and I’m sure I can get him to sign again.” “We don’t have time. Bradstreet and Covey will nab him while you’re still pussyfooting around. Never mind. I’ll deal with Zimmerman personally.” The “I thought I could count on you, but, as usual, I was wrong” hung silently in the air between them, unspoken but understood. Failed again. Try as he might to push the thought out of his mind, Simon couldn’t remove the feeling from deep inside him. “How long did you spend with him? You were gone most of the afternoon yesterday.” A blond head bobbing up and down at his groin, a pair of blue eyes glancing up to meet his flashed through Simon’s mind. He shifted in his leather chair and recrossed his legs to hide his growing erection.

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“Romancing a client like Brad Zimmerman takes finesse…and time. You have to trust me and let me do my job.” His father made a noncommittal rumbling noise in his throat. “In my day, I could close a deal like this over a two martini lunch. I think you’re making it more complicated than it needs to be. But I’ll give you a chance, a couple more days, then I’ll take over.” Simon’s jaw tightened. The message that he was being tested came in loud and clear. It wasn’t that his father necessarily expected him to fail, but the old man simply couldn’t see any way to do business besides the old school way, circa 1975. With a nod, Simon rose from the chair facing his father’s desk. Why did he always feel like a kid called before the principal every time he sat in that seat? “Yes, sir.” He didn’t trust himself to say more without ranting about trust and respect, which would make him sound like a whining child instead of a competent man. He strode toward the door, footsteps muffled by the thick carpet that gave his father’s office the hushed, disconnected atmosphere of a cocoon. No wonder the man was out of touch with the real world. He lived in a damn bubble. And no wonder more clients were slipping away every year. Robert Chase no longer had a finger on the pulse of current trends and wouldn’t entertain innovative ideas from his design staff because he, quite simply, didn’t get them. The company was foundering, and there wasn’t a damn thing Simon could do about it, because he had no control. “Son.” His father’s voice stopped him and he turned around. “You know I won’t be able to run this business forever. Your mother’s already been hounding me about retiring so we can do some traveling. I just want to make sure that when I do step down, you’ll be ready to take over.” “I know.” Simon offered a weak smile and turned back to the door. There wouldn’t be a company left to inherit if Dad continued his policies much longer, but he wouldn’t listen to

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Simon’s suggestions when he tried to offer them. The only way he might be able to reach him would be by showing him success. The bottom line was always dollars and cents and new client accounts. The heavy oak door drifted closed behind him and he stood for a moment in the hall outside the office. The doors to the executive offices lined the hallway, but for the moment no one was in sight. He could let his guard down just a little and breathe. His shoulders slumped, shirt sticking to his sweaty back. Simon leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Maybe it was time to make a move. He’d tried for almost ten years to change the company from within and gotten nowhere. Maybe he should strike out on his own. A thrill of excitement mingled with dread coiled through him at the thought he’d entertained more and more often lately. His father would never forgive him…especially if Simon’s clients chose to follow him into his new venture. The only thing that could make it worse would be if he decided to completely start his life fresh and finally came out to his family. Simon’s phone buzzed silently in his pants pocket, tickling his thigh. He reached in and drew it out, checked caller ID, and sighed. As if summoned by his thought of telling the truth, his mother was on the phone, there to remind him of what a melodrama it would be if he upset the status quo. “Hi, Mom.” “Sweetie, how are you?” “Fine. Kind of busy right now. I’ll have to keep it short.” “Of course. I just wondered if you’d do me a teeny little favor.” Her voice was as sweet as honey, thick and warm and liable to trap you in stickiness if you got too close. “Only a teeny one?” Simon meant the words to be teasing, but they came out dry and sarcastic. “Dinner at home on Thursday. Can you make it? I miss you so much.” “Um, possibly. I’ll have to check my schedule.”

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“Come. I have someone I want you to meet. I’ve already invited her.”

Here we go. Nothing was ever aboveboard with his mother. There was always an ulterior motive in every request. “Mom…” “Janice Ahumibe. Her father’s an ambassador from Nigeria. Her mother’s one of the Overtons.” “Quite the catch. You’re lining up royalty for me now?” His tone could’ve vied with the Sahara for aridity. “The Overtons are one of the most prominent African American families in Chicago. You could do worse. Anyway, I’m just asking you to meet her, have a nice, pleasant meal with your family and a beautiful, eligible young woman. What’s so wrong with that?” “Christ, Mom, give it a rest! I can find my own dates. I don’t need you to play matchmaker.” The bartender’s eyes, crinkling at the corners as he smiled, flashed in Simon’s mind. “Oh, really?” The sugar coating chipped, and the bitter chocolate underneath shone through. “Then why don’t you ever bring anyone to family or social events? If you’re capable of finding someone, why are you always alone?”

Been asking myself the same question, Mom. Why do I only indulge in brief encounters, never a real relationship? “I’ll find the person who’s right for me someday. Give me some time and stop throwing women at me. As for Thursday, I can’t promise I’ll come. Like I said, I’ll have to check my schedule.” “You might be pleasantly surprised, you know. If you and Janice hit it off, you could bring her to your cousin Serena’s wedding next month. Just say you’ll come.” “I’ll call you. Good-bye.” He cut off her relentless barrage, snapped the phone shut, and pushed it back in his pocket. “Goddamn it!” He so needed to move on with his life. To be thirty-three years old and still trying to please his parents couldn’t possibly be healthy.

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What would happen if he came to dinner and then came out, laid all his cards on the table? How bad could it be? Other people did it all the time and they survived. At least the constant nagging would be over, although, knowing his mother, once she’d gotten over her disappointment at the idea of never becoming a grandmother, she’d start shoving every eligible bachelor in Chicago at him. He smiled wryly at the idea. Once more the bartender’s face flickered into life before his vision, his wide smile, the slight crease of a dimple in one cheek, the shaggy bangs flopping across his forehead, the square jaw, and slightly crooked nose. What would it be like to show up at his parents’ home with a guy like that on his arm? Would they be more shocked at his gender or his race? Reaching into his other pocket, he fingered the napkin Jay had given him with his phone number on it. Simon had meant to throw it away. Instead, he’d tossed it on his dresser yesterday evening and put it in his trousers when he dressed this morning. It wasn’t like he couldn’t swing by the bar if he was really interested in the guy, but having Jay’s phone number made him seem more tangible, like a real option. Simon could call and set up a date. It was possible. And he was pretty certain Jay would say yes. He’d made his interest clear. But what if one date led to two and then maybe more? What would happen if he started to care? The idea was impossible. He tucked the soft napkin further down into his pocket and withdrew his hand. Pushing away from the wall, he strode down the hallway toward his own office. Nothing was going to happen. He’d carry on in the same rut he’d been in for years, and in a few days, when the vivid freshness of his encounter with Jay had faded from his mind, he’d find the stupid napkin, laugh at his fantasies of changing his life, and throw it away.

***** “God, your place is a rathole! You really need to look into getting another place.” Charlie flopped on the couch, propped his feet on the coffee table, grabbed the remote, and flipped on the TV.

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“If you hate it here so much, we could hang at your place.” Jay popped the tops on a couple of bottles of Hengerman’s, his favorite microbrew, and walked the three steps from the kitchenette into the living room. Charlie’s broad, freckled face twisted into a grimace as he accepted the chilled bottle, slippery with condensation, from Jay’s hand and took a swig. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he chugged half the bottle, and he belched before he responded. “If you want to try to hear the game over a wailing baby, a chattering three-year-old, and Cindy’s nagging, you’re welcome.” He nodded at Jay’s apartment, barely more than a loft above the bar. “This place is my haven. I’m just saying you need a better crib.” “Crib?” Jay grinned as he sank into the familiar grooves of his recliner and triggered the footrest. “Listen, buddy, you dis my crib again and you’re out on your ass, back to your loving family.” “By the way, Cindy says you’ve got to come to dinner on Wednesday if you’re not working.” “I am. You know I always am. I live and breathe this damn place.” “Bullshit. Ask Sylvia to cover. Cindy says I’m not supposed to come home without making you promise.” “Aw, Jesus. Please tell me she doesn’t have another ‘friend’ for me to meet.” Jay set aside his beer untouched. Charlie shrugged. “Sorry. You know how chicks are. They can’t stand to see any man a happy bachelor. I think this one’s named Brian or Ryan or something. He’s a friend of Stephanie’s from the art gallery.” Jay shook his head and grimaced. “We’re both gay, so it’s bound to be love at first sight.”

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“Dude.” He spread his palms wide, the beer bottle still dangling between two fingers. “You know I have no control over these things. If you were normal, she’d be matching you up with Stephanie. I’m telling you, it’s the way women’s minds work.” “Straight. The PC term is ‘straight,’ not ‘normal.’” “Yeah, right. Got it.” Charlie didn’t sound remotely apologetic, which was “normal” and to be expected. Beyond a momentary flicker of annoyance, Jay wasn’t ruffled. It was just Charlie, the neighborhood, the way they’d both been raised. Jay himself had called anything or anyone he considered lame “gay” back when they were growing up. All the kids did. They’d also used racial slurs even when talking to their black friends, and all the girls were “bitches.” He knew Charlie had finally accepted his orientation, more or less, but old habits died hard. “Tell your lovely wife I said thanks, but I can’t make it this week.” Charlie finished off his brew and burped again. “You know she’ll just arrange it for another day. You can’t escape her, man. The woman’s a steamroller.” “In that case, tell her I’m already dating someone. It’s steady and serious.” For the first time in the entire conversation, Charlie dragged his eyes away from the baseball game. “Really?” His eyebrows rose nearly to the fringe of red hair across his forehead. “No, asshole. Not really.” Jay thought of Simon, his dark face transported in beautiful rapture as he came. “No one special.” “But there is someone.” Charlie was on it like a terrier digging out a rat. “Details, man! Or maybe not details, ’cause I really don’t need to hear that shit, but tell me about it.” It was Jay’s turn to focus on the game -- three to one in the third inning, Cubs losing -and sip his beer. “Just a guy I met the other day. Don’t think I’ll be seeing him again, though. It was just one of those things.”

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“You liked him though?” Charlie was as relentless as his wife and remarkably sensitive to the nuance in Jay’s voice to guess that from a couple of comments. “I don’t know. I thought maybe there was something there, some kind of connection when we talked.” “You talked? I thought guys skipped all that crap and went straight to the nasty. Isn’t that one of the perks of being gay?” Charlie laughed. Jay rolled his eyes at him. “Funny.” “Seriously though, why don’t you call him if you like him?” “He knows I’m interested. Ball’s in his court.” “So, you’re like…the chick waiting for the phone call.” “I’m not the chick.” “The Jay I knew back in the day would never hesitate to go after something he wanted. Remember when we decided to steal the cross from Father Mike’s office? It was fucking huge and heavy, but you made a plan and didn’t let anything stand in your way. I still have the damn thing wrapped up in a piece of tarp in the rafters of my garage.” “You have that?” Jay stood, snagged both empty beer bottles, and went to the kitchen for fresh ones. Charlie hauled himself off the couch to follow. “I couldn’t throw it away and I couldn’t really take it back to the church. What the hell am I supposed to do with a damn iron cross? Anyway, the point is, if you like this guy, you should do something about it.” Slamming the refrigerator door shut, Jay turned to face him. “Okay. Who are you and what have you done with Charlie? You’re freaking me out.” “Cindy’s right. We’re all pushing thirty now. Don’t you want to…well, maybe not start a family, but have somebody special and more, uh, permanent in your life?” “Are you playing matchmaker with me? I’m perfectly happy just the way I am. I don’t need advice on my love life from you.”

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“Cindy says you do. She thinks you’re lonely and wrapping yourself up in this bar so you don’t have to face it. She says --” “Cindy says. Cindy thinks. Do you have any ideas of your own, Charlie?” He shoved one of the bottles at his friend, hard. “Maybe I’m wrapped up in my business so it doesn’t go under. And maybe I’m alone from choice, because I’m taking my time -- unlike some people who married right out of high school and are now trying to escape their wife and kids by hanging out at their friend’s house nearly every weekend.” Always imperturbable, Charlie shrugged. “Point taken. Shutting up now.” “That’s good, because I’d hate to have to beat the hell out of you.” Jay reined in his temper and managed a small smile. “You’re more a brother to me than my brothers, but sometimes you’re just asking for a punch in the nose.” He led the way back to the living room and they resumed their former positions in front of the TV. “Well…” Charlie said after a long pause. “If you change your mind about dinner, let us know. Jaimie’s always happy to see Uncle Jay, and I can tell Cindy to give it up about Ryan or Brian.” Another moment of silence passed. “And if you want someplace to bring your new friend on a date, you could --” “Charlie!” “Just saying.” Inside, Jay was smiling. It wasn’t too many years ago he would never have received such an offer. There’d been a rough patch of adjustment after he came out, and for a while, it seemed they’d never be friends again. The loss of his lifelong buddy had been painful, but a necessary part of his transition. He couldn’t live in the past. When Charlie had called out of the blue, months after their big fight and asked him to go out for drinks, Jay had nearly said “no,” but sheer habit brought “yes” to his lips instead. They’d gotten shit-faced together, talked about old times, and Charlie had come as close as he ever would to an apology. Since

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then, their friendship had slowly built into something new, a little strained at times, but stronger, deeper, and more honest than the bond they’d shared as boys. He knew Charlie would never understand his attraction to men and that the idea of it still made him uncomfortable at times, but he was as supportive as a homophobic guy from the old neighborhood could be and would have Jay’s back, as he always had, if needed. “Thank Cindy for me and tell her I’ll come sometime soon -- just no setups, okay?” “Got it.” Charlie settled back on the couch and ripped open a bag of pork rinds. Jay’s phone rang. He had to search a little before he found it under a stack of mail on the kitchen counter. He didn’t recognize the phone number. “Hello?” There was a long pause on the other end and then Simon’s deep voice spoke. “Uh, is this Jay?” “Hi! Yeah, it’s me. How are you? What’s up?” Down, boy, you sound like you’re about

to piddle on the rug, he scolded himself. “I, um…I’ve been thinking about the other day.” Simon cleared his throat. “I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d like to go for a cup of coffee sometime, if you’re not busy.” “Coffee sounds great.” Jay leaned his back against the counter, as if a nonchalant posture would affect the excitement in his voice. “When?” “Oh…” Simon paused. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. What’s convenient for you?” “Hey, I own my own business. I can knock off anytime. You let me know when and where.” Charlie had turned around to look at him over the back of the couch and was laughing. Jay snapped his fingers and waved him away. “How about Monday? Lunch at Fiorelli’s. Twelve-thirty.”

How about dinner. Here in my apartment. Right now. Sex afterward completely optional. “Sure. Sounds great.” “All right then.” Simon paused for so long Jay thought maybe he’d hung up without saying good-bye. “Thanks again, by the way, for the other day. It was… I needed that.”

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“No problem.” Jay couldn’t resist adding, “Maybe you’ll return the favor sometime.” Another pause. “Could be. See you Monday.” Jay realized he was grinning like an idiot as he ended the call. Good God, what was he getting into? The guy didn’t have the brightest sense of humor. Opening him up to see what lay inside was going to be a challenge, but one he sensed would be worth the effort. “So, you can knock off anytime you want? No bullshit about keeping regular hours or not being able to get Sylvia to cover for you? You must really want to see this guy.” Charlie’s round, red-cheeked face was split in a broad smile. “Shut up, fool. If I want to open late, it’s my business.” “Gotta hand it to you, buddy. You’ve still got it. Back in high school it was girls, now it’s guys, but either way you know how to play ’em. Let out enough line and they’ll reel themselves in.” “You know you’re an asshole, right?” If Jay had been holding anything besides his cell phone, he’d have chucked it across the room at him. His friend just laughed and turned back toward the TV. “Hope you land this one, buddy.”

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Chapter Three

Simon stopped playing with his knife and fork, forced his hands off the table and into his lap. He straightened his spine and squared his shoulders as he watched the waitress lead Jay toward the table. He was determined to show more poise and control than he had in their encounter the other day, but, damn, the man looked so good he stole Simon’s breath away. Jay still wore jeans, but his concession to fine dining was a crisp white dress shirt instead of a T. Golden highlights gleamed in his dishwater blond hair. His features were somewhat square and blunt and seemed to reflect the straightforward manner of the man. Simon guessed that with Jay, what you saw was exactly what you got. No pretense. No airs. That quality attracted him -- that and the man’s very fine body, which he was already imagining naked. “Hi,” Jay said as he approached the table. “I’m glad you called.” A faint flush of pink colored his cheeks. Simon was gratified to know he wasn’t the only one who was a little nervous. “Thanks for coming,” he replied automatically. “Have you been here before? They have excellent veal.” Excellent veal? What was he, an advertisement for the restaurant? Small talk

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seemed ridiculous and superfluous when all he could picture was this man on his knees sucking his cock. Once more he felt himself growing flustered and likely to babble. He clamped his mouth shut. Jay sat down, clasped his hands on top of the table, and glanced around the restaurant then back at Simon. “Nice place. Do you come here often?” “No. Not really.” He couldn’t think of one more word to add. What the hell was wrong with him? He was an advertising executive. Dealing with clients was a major part of his job. So why couldn’t he talk to Jay? The other man leaned back in his chair and exhaled audibly. “Okay. This is weird. Let’s not try to pretend it isn’t. I want you to know that what happened the other day is not normal for me. I don’t do random encounters on a regular basis. I just wanted…” He trailed off then drew another breath, and his diamond-bright eyes pierced Simon’s. “To tell the truth, I had a premonition about you.” “What?” “All day I’d had a feeling something good was about to happen, and when you walked in I knew you were it. Sounds nutty, I know. But there it is. So let’s skip past talking about the veal and the weather and learn a little bit more about each other. Sound good?” Simon nodded, still tongue-tied, happy to let Jay take over the conversation. He was doing such a good job at it. “I grew up on the south side, Bridgeport. Never moved away like I thought I would. Was a jock and a marginal student in high school. Played a little hockey, a lot of baseball. I love sports and I still play on some city leagues. After high school, I took some business classes at community college and started working at the bar. The guy who owned it, Grimes, never had a family. He was ready to sell and move south, couldn’t take the winters anymore. He could’ve sold the place outright to a developer, but he let me buy him out slowly. He’s

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gone now, but not to Florida like he wanted. He died of a heart attack last year. So, now the place is mine, and that’s about my whole story.” Barely the tip of the iceberg as far as Simon was concerned, but he didn’t feel bold enough to ask what most interested him -- when did you come out and how did your family and friends react? “How about you?” Jay continued. He blinked, and for a moment Simon was transfixed by the sweep of lush lashes against his cheeks. “I’m from here, too. Glencoe. I went to Benton Academy then to Georgetown. After college I started working in my father’s firm.” He spread his hands as though to say, “now, here I am.” Relating the bare facts made him realize how unexciting his life had been up to now. “Wish I had something more interesting to tell.” “Hey, man, ninety-nine percent of the world’s population lives normal, boring lives. We can’t all be photojournalists in war-torn countries or discover some amazing vaccine. Somebody’s got to serve the beer and promote products.” “Of the two, I think your job is more useful.” Simon smiled. “I don’t know if anyone ever needs to see another advertisement about a drug that supposedly improves their sex life or convincing them one shampoo is better than another.” “But advertisements keep the economy flowing. That’s important. People earn then they buy and the money goes round and round. Every job is necessary from the president of a corporation to the girl who serves your cheeseburgers.” Jay paused then added, “Although, I think corporate presidents are less useful than the cheeseburger girl.” “My point exactly.” Simon found he was breathing easier and relaxing under the strength of Jay’s charm. “You serve alcohol. I serve illusions. Your product is more concrete and probably makes people happier.” “Alcohol creates only an illusion of happiness. I think we’re on par.” Another smile. Another flash of dimples.

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The waitress appeared to take their drink order, and Simon was interested to note Jay chose water. Recovering alcoholic? He could hardly ask, but didn’t have to. Jay answered his unspoken question after the waitress walked away. “I’m not a drunk, if you’re wondering, but I would be if I indulged as often as someone wanted to buy me a round. Hazard of my occupation. That and a beer gut. Wine with the meal will be enough.” No beer gut there. Even under the T-shirt Jay had worn the other day, it was clear he was well-muscled, and Simon had felt his hard abs pressed against his stomach, had slipped his hands up a strong back and around powerful shoulders. A stab of lust pierced him at the memory of the hot kisses they’d shared in Jay’s office. He had to drag his focus away from Jay’s mouth and back to his eyes. “So you play baseball and hockey, huh? Tell me about your leagues.” “Mostly a bunch of former high school and college jocks who love sports and want to keep on playing. If you can get past the ‘glory days’ stories, they’re a pretty good bunch of guys on both teams.” He went on to tell a little about the level of competition and what teams they played against. Simon listened, but was also caught up in simply watching Jay, the way his hands moved, the sparkle in his eyes, the smile that came and went like quicksilver. He was attractive and charismatic. It was hard to believe he wasn’t already involved with someone. What in the world had drawn Jay to someone as boring as him? “Sorry,” Jay said, bringing Simon’s attention to his words instead of his moving lips. “Maybe you don’t even like sports.” “I do. I’m a big baseball fan. We should go to a Cubs game -- not that it’s been much of a season. And I’d like to watch your team play sometime.” Had he just requested two future dates with this man? So much for not becoming involved! How many times could you go out before having to admit you were in a relationship? “Both of those sound great. I’d like that.”

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The waitress returned with their drinks and took their order, Jay following Simon’s recommendation of the veal. Their conversation roamed over life in the city, the best routes to avoid road construction, and the cost of living. “I want to get a place,” Jay admitted, “but for now I’m stuck living over the bar. Makes it hard to escape the damn place. Even when Sylvia or Don is supposed to be in charge, I have to solve every mini-disaster -- the toilet overflowing or one of the taps breaking. My employees aren’t exactly take-charge types, and with me right there, they’re even less likely to try to fix something themselves. The sooner I can get into my own place, the better, but it’s going to be a while. How about you? Where do you live?” Simon was hesitant to admit his home life was a world away from that kind of stress. He’d given up his apartment and bought a home in the suburbs a couple of years ago when he realized there was no reason to wait any longer. It wasn’t like he was going to choose a place with a life partner. His home was a haven, a sanctuary, and he loved it. “I have a house in Oak Park.” Jay whistled. “Nice. I’ve always dreamed of getting out of the city, but I don’t think it’ll ever really happen. I’m born and bred and will probably die here -- blocks away from where I was born.” He shrugged. “Something to be said for continuity, I suppose.” “I was very glad to get away from all the noise. And I can spend hours in my garden, completely lose track of time. I don’t have a gardening service. I prefer to do everything myself.” “A gardener.” Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “I wouldn’t have guessed. You seem like an indoors kind of person.” “Don’t let the suit fool you. That’s just my job. On evenings and weekends, I’m a gentleman farmer.” Simon smiled. It felt good to talk about his passion. He’d never really shared it with anyone. At work he didn’t discuss much besides clients and campaigns with the other ad execs, and his circle of friends had dwindled over the years until, he now

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realized, he didn’t really have any friends besides some online ones -- with whom he chatted about something entirely different than gardening. “Plants are cool,” Jay offered. “Personally, I can’t keep one alive. But I like them and I like nature. Maybe after lunch, if you’re not in a huge hurry to get back to your office, we could take a walk in a park.” It was a bright, beautiful day out, a little hot and humid, but with a breeze blowing in from Lake Michigan to cool things down. Simon quickly weighed the design team meeting he needed to attend that afternoon against a walk in the park with Jay. It was no competition. “Sure. Sounds great.” Over lunch and a bottle of Cabernet, Simon learned that Jay had two brothers, Donnie and Ted, and his father was a public works employee on the verge of retirement. His mother managed a Laundromat, but gave her artistic side free reign at home, painting canvas after canvas that filled their house and many of their relatives’ and friends’ homes as well. “For someone with no formal training, she does great work. I’ll show you some of her pieces hanging in my apartment.” The casual assumption that Simon would be in Jay’s apartment, that he was invited, even expected, sent a renewed surge of excitement through him. One lunch date and things were suddenly moving forward in a new direction, seemingly out of his control. Simon was more reticent to talk about his family, but Jay drew more than the bare facts out of him. “My father inherited our business from his father. He ran it very well until recently. What worked in advertising from the sixties through the eighties doesn’t fly anymore, but he won’t explore new opportunities. We’re losing clients,” Simon confided. “The company’s stagnating.” He found himself admitting more about his mother than he’d expected to, as well. “She’s one of those ladies who sits on the boards of charities, chairs countless social functions, and manages the lives of poor victims who fall into her web. If she’d decided to be

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a criminal mastermind, she’d control the entire city of Chicago by now. As it is, she’s the center of her social set, the hub of their wheel.” “Sounds like a real powerhouse.” “You could call her that. A lot of people just call her a bitch.” Simon smiled to take the sting from his words. “To me, she’s just ‘mom.’” “I take it she tries to manage you, too.” He thought of the dinner plan he knew he couldn’t postpone indefinitely. “‘Try’ is the operative word. I keep resisting.” “They still don’t know you’re gay, right?” Simon was taken aback by the question he hadn’t been bold…or rude enough to ask. He wanted to reply that it wasn’t Jay’s business. His relationship with his parents was a personal thing. Instead, he found himself saying, “No. Not yet, but I don’t really want to talk about it.” Jay nodded. “Been there. Over that. I understand.” “So you’re out. Completely. With your family and friends.” Simon flashed on the glossy cover of the Out magazine in Jay’s office. He’d hardly lay it in plain sight if he had a secret to keep. He swallowed a mouthful of food as he nodded. “Yeah. Soon after high school when I figured it out for myself. It was a rocky time. But this discussion is a little heavy for a first date. Let’s table it until another time, finish up this fantastic meal, and go out and enjoy the day.” The implication that there would be other dates filled Simon with a warm glow of excitement. He was glad he’d called Jay, that he hadn’t marked the other day up to an unexpected fling and let it go at that. This could be the start of something special, a thought that filled him with both anticipation and dread. When you turned some corners, there was no going back.

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***** Jay looked over at the tall man striding along beside him. He had an urge to reach over and take his hand, feel the strong palm and long fingers sliding against his own, but he resisted. Public hand-holding was a little intense for a first date. He grinned at the irony. Considering the intimacy they’d already shared, the oddity of it amused him. “What?” Simon cast a glance his way. Jay shook his head. “Nothing, just thinking how I’d like to grab you, push you up against a tree, and kiss you right here, right now, in the middle of the park. Wondering what you’d think about that.” “I’d think I’m not ready for a PDA. Maybe we need to continue to get to know each other better first.” “Sure, you’re right.” He was, but it didn’t stop Jay from feeling disappointed or from wanting to make out. The man’s lips were just so damn bitable, and he hadn’t even begun to have enough kissing the other day. The path circled around a pond that was little more than a puddle and a stagnant one at that, but children were squelching happily through the mud at the edge, pushing boats into the water, hurling bread crumbs at ducks or just keeping their feet cool. It was a hot afternoon unstirred by any breeze. Jay’s hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, and he wished they’d chosen to go to one of the parks on the lakeshore, even if it was a few blocks out of the way. There was always a breeze off Lake Michigan, even on the most sweltering day. A glance at Simon showed the other man was perspiring heavily, too. His ebony face shone with sweat, and Jay imagined how he’d look naked with that wet sheen covering his muscles like the oiled body of a wrestler. The thought set his cock swelling…again, and he told himself to stop being such a perv and try to simply enjoy the man’s company. “Want to sit in the shade awhile?” he asked, gesturing to a bench under the spreading branches of a tree.

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“Yeah. I’m not really dressed for the heat.” Simon indicated his suit. The executive look fit him well. All he needed was a pair of glasses perched on his nose to complete the image. Jay imagined grabbing that dangling tie and pulling him close so he could steam up those imaginary glasses. Simon sat first and reached to loosen his tie and unfasten his top button. Jay plopped down beside him, legs sprawled as he reclined and extended his arms along the back of the bench. “Whew! I never would’ve suggested leaving air-conditioning if I’d known it was this hot. Want to strip and dive in the pond?” Smiling, Simon glanced at the polluted puddle. “Looks dirty, and not too refreshing.” “Good point. Not to mention we might scar the little kids for life. But I sure wouldn’t mind going to the beach on a day like this.” “If I didn’t have three meetings scheduled this afternoon, I might take you up on that offer.” “Let’s make it a date.” Jay jumped on the crack in his reserve. “This weekend, if the weather’s nice. Do you like to swim or just soak up the sun?” “Swim, definitely. I was on the team back in high school. I don’t get to do it enough anymore. I have a club membership, but don’t go as often as I should.” He patted his stomach. “Getting that middle-aged middle.” “I’ve seen your stomach. It looks pretty flat to me.” Jay smiled. “And you’re not middleaged until you reach forty. Not if you expect to live to eighty.” “What makes you think I’m not forty?” “Are you?” “No. Thirty-three. And you?” “Twenty-eight.” “So you’ve been out for almost a decade.” Simon hesitated a second over the word “out,” as if he still had trouble saying it.

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Fasten your seatbelts, kiddies. We’re in for a long bumpy ride with this one, Jay told himself. “Yeah. I was nineteen before I admitted it to myself, twenty when I told my family and friends.” “You’re lucky to have people in your life who are so accepting.” Jay burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right? Why would you think a bunch of Irish Catholics would be accepting?” “So they cut you off?” Simon leaned toward him slightly, his attention riveted. “Let me tell you something about the Morans. We’re big fighters. Trust me, there were fireworks, shouting, cursing, banishment. But I refused to stay banished. I knew my family loved me and just needed to get past the initial shock. I wouldn’t give up on them. Just kept coming around, reminding them I was the same old Jay until they gave up being so upset.” “How? How could you take that kind of treatment from people who are supposed to love you no matter what? What does it say about them when they reject an important part of who you are?” His dark eyes were narrowed with intensity, as if he truly hoped Jay could finally answer a long-asked question for him. Jay shrugged. “They’re human. They’re raised to believe certain things. You can’t fault them for that. I knew I could allow myself to be shoved away, turn my back and pretend I never had a family, or force them to get the fuck over themselves and get used to the idea simply by acting like nothing was out of the ordinary.” “And did they? Get used to the idea?” “To an extent. We don’t talk about that aspect of my life much. My dad and brothers are still pretty squeamish about guy on guy lovin’.” He grinned, trying to get Simon to lighten up a little. The man had to realize it wasn’t the end of the world if he lost his father’s respect. “Mom’s more laid back and accepting. My best friend, Charlie, was a hard sell at first, but now he and his wife, Cindy are trying to set me up with men.”

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Jay paused, watching Simon’s expressive face as he stared at the kids and the pond, clearly mulling this over. He added, “But it wasn’t easy. I don’t want you to think my experience was painless, but it’s something all of us have to go through. You can’t put it off forever, and you’ll feel a hell of a lot better when you get it out there.” Simon’s gaze met his again and his eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t need a motivational speech. I understand all that, but you don’t know the first thing about my situation. My work is tied up into it as well.” “Then maybe it’s time to look into getting a new job.” Jay lifted his shoulders and spread his hands. “Just sayin’.” Glancing at his watch, Simon rose from the bench. “Speaking of work, I’d better get back to the office. Thanks for coming to lunch.” Jay stood and moved to block his way before he could stride off. “Are you pissed now?” “No. Just in a hurry. I didn’t mean to take this much time.” His expression showed no anger, but there was tension in his stance. “We’re still on for this weekend, though? The beach date?” Jay resisted the urge to grab Simon’s arm and force him to meet his eyes again. “I…I’ll call you. I have to go.” The other man stepped past him and walked quickly away along the path. Jay was annoyed at the abrupt dismissal. This guy was as prickly and protective of himself as a damn cactus. He required careful handling. Was he worth the trouble? Jay thought so. Look at the wonderful beverage to be made from cactus juice -- tequila! There was a potent liquid inside Simon just waiting to be milked. And damn, didn’t that image make him hard. Jay laughed at his own quirky sense of humor as he headed at a slightly different angle through the park toward where his car was parked.

*****

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Of course he spent the rest of the day thinking about the lunch with Simon and the aborted walk in the park afterward. There was no way he’d change what he’d said about coming out, because he knew he was right. It was inevitable, or if it wasn’t, it should be. But Jay did wish the subject hadn’t come up so soon. All he’d wanted was a pleasant date and to find out if they had some common interests, maybe even sneak a kiss or two before they said good-bye. Now he’d be lucky if he got a second chance this weekend. He’d freaked Simon out, made him crawl back into his shell, but damn, it was a shame for a fine man like that to be so deeply closeted. Probably couldn’t find his way out with a roadmap. There were the usual distractions at the bar that evening, mostly customers who imagined Jay was their best friend and wanted to tell him all their stories. He listened, nodded, and gave good advice as he always did, but mostly his mind was on Simon and how much he’d like to see the man out of a suit, buck naked and in his bed. Jay imagined it so clearly that he did a double take when he realized it was real-Simon and not fantasy-Simon walking into the bar just before midnight. He strode across the room just as he had the other day, tall, graceful, seemingly poised, but his eyes betrayed nervousness when they met Jay’s. “Hi. I just stopped by to apologize for earlier. Walking away like that. I was an ass. Sorry.” He blurted the short sentences almost before he reached the bar. Jay smiled and shook his head. “No problem. You’re here now. Want a drink?” “Please.” He audibly exhaled. Without asking, Jay poured the same drink Simon had ordered the other day and set it in front of him. “You going to stick around till I’m off?” “Yes.” Simon sipped the alcohol, but his searching eyes never left Jay’s. “In that case…” Jay raised his voice and yelled, “Last call!” “It’s not anywhere near close!” Gunderson practically wailed.

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“Then no last call. You’re cut off. Bye, Max. See you tomorrow.”

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Chapter Four

As Simon followed Jay up the creaking narrow stairs to his apartment above the tavern, he couldn’t take his eyes off the tight buttocks gliding under blue denim. His T-shirt was hitched up in back so that with every step a slice of pale skin showed in the gap between shirt and waistband. Simon wanted to grab hold of one of his belt loops and haul him back into his arms, but they’d probably both tumble down the staircase. “This is it. Kind of a rathole like my friend Charlie keeps letting me know, but it’s…well, if not home, it’s a place to crash.” He paused in the doorway and cast a glance at Simon, who was standing beside him. The door opened directly into the living area of Jay’s apartment. A kitchenette was to one side of the room, only separated from the living room by the linoleum floor instead of threadbare carpet. On the far wall were a couple of doors that presumably led to a bedroom and bath. “It’s cozy.” Simon barely hesitated before finding an appropriate adjective. “Go ahead. You can admit it’s a dump. I won’t be offended.” Jay closed the door behind them then turned to face Simon, slipping his hands around his waist, resting them on his

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hipbones. “Besides, we’re not here for a tour of the historic buildings of old Chicago, are we? Don’t know if this place would qualify, but it is really old.” God, the man’s mouth was lickable sunshine. There always seemed to be a smile flickering around the edges of it. How could one person be so damn happy all the time? It drew Simon like a moth to flame, and he stepped into the circle of Jay’s arms as they slid around his back. He cupped the side of Jay’s face, a little rough with downy stubble, and lowered his head to steal a kiss from those joyful lips. Simon gave a tentative lick over the soft surface of Jay’s mouth then explored between his lips. Like a door opening to a key, they parted to let him inside. His tongue brushed lightly against the tip of Jay’s, testing and tasting him. There was the sharp tang of gin, the slightly salty taste of peanuts from the bar, and an essence that belonged to this man alone. His fingers clutched the fabric of Jay’s T-shirt then released it to stroke up and down the length of his back. Simon wanted to feel every inch of him, and the barrier of cotton had to go. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and tugged at the same time he broke off the kiss. Jay raised his arms and allowed Simon to strip the black shirt off and toss it aside. For several moments, Simon stood, gazing at the body revealed to him. Jay’s shoulders were powerful and wide, his chest broad and chiseled. Beneath it, his abdomen was flat with a solid six-pack of muscle and a downy trail of hair leading from navel to groin. Simon inhaled through his teeth. The man looked more like a wrestler than a baseball player with that build. He’d be happy to let Jay wrestle him to the mat anytime. The thought made him smile. His gaze flicked back to Jay’s eyes, twinkling, and his mouth, smugly smiling as if to say, “Do you like what you see?” Simon grabbed his arms and pulled them back around him as he tugged Jay close. Again, he bent his face toward the shorter man and kissed him. His tentative exploration became harder and more demanding. His cock was pulsing and hard as steel inside his jeans, and the raging need to take possession, to be inside this man, swept over him. He grappled Jay to him and invaded his

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mouth with his plunging tongue. Their tongues tangled and teeth clicked together with the force of their passion. Simon felt Jay’s hands roving under his shirt, stroking his back, then tugging at the shirt. Once more they separated so Jay could pull Simon’s shirt over his head and discard it. Simon didn’t give him a chance to gawk, but tugged him right back into his body. Flesh on flesh now, hot and hard muscle slid together, and below their waists, their erections ground against each other. The thick denim barrier had to go. Taking Jay’s arms and pushing him roughly away, Simon kicked off his shoes, skimmed out of his jeans and boxers, stripped off his socks, then knelt naked before Jay. He glanced up at the other man’s midnight blue eyes, riveted on Simon’s hands as they unfastened the fly of his jeans. Simon licked his lips and swallowed hard, eager to see the cock he’d only felt so far. Unbelievable that he’d allowed Jay to suck him off the other day and hadn’t returned the favor, hadn’t even touched him. Now he would explore Jay’s cock at his leisure, take his time examining its length and girth with his hands and mouth. Simon tugged Jay’s jeans over sharp hipbones and down narrow hips and solid thighs. He was wearing black boxer briefs that clearly delineated the bulge of his erection. Simon hesitated just a moment before reaching for the waistband of the briefs and slowly revealing what lay beneath as though unwrapping a special gift. As he slid Jay’s underwear down, his cock bobbed free, pale and smooth, ridged with faint blue veins and red as brick at the tip where white drops lay beaded. More often on the receiving end of blowjobs, Simon felt a little tentative as he slipped his hand around the circumference of the long, lean shaft. It felt solid and hot in the curve of his hand and so alive. He banished his uncertainty and inclined his head to stroke his tongue over the tip, lapping up those pearls of precum. Above him, Jay’s breath hissed through his teeth. His stomach twitched and his hips jerked. Simon sucked the head of Jay’s cock into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it. Then he drew it deep into his throat until his lips met his fisted hand. He withdrew nearly the entire

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wet length from his mouth before sucking it in again. His head bobbed up and down, keeping time with the stroking of his hand. Jay’s hips pushed toward him and his hands gripped Simon’s head. Together they set the ancient rhythm of sex, a steady, undeniable beat that rose and ebbed in increasing waves like the inexorable tide of an ocean. “No,” Jay suddenly gasped. His gripping hands pushed Simon’s head away, breaking contact. “No condoms. We should…” Simon looked up at the soft lips, the flash of tongue wetting them, the soft brush of pale eyelashes as they swept against flushed cheeks. “We should be smart.” Jay grabbed his shoulder, pulling him to his feet. “Come to my room.” He took Simon’s hand and led him through the living room to the door beyond. Jay’s bedroom was even more cramped and tiny than Simon’s freshman year college dorm room. There was a bed, a dresser, and an open alcove in which clothes were hung. Simon watched Jay’s backside as he went to the dresser and took lube and a sheath of condoms from the top drawer. The view of his ass was much better unimpeded by jeans. The undulation of glutes under pale skin was fascinating. The only thing more fascinating was when Jay turned to face him and Simon got a good look at his angry red cock and the soft sac swaying in the shadow between his legs. Jay threw himself back on the bed, making the springs squeak and the headboard bounce off the wall. He was a beautiful sight, legs sprawled wide, hips thrust upward, eyes and arms inviting Simon to crawl on top of him. “Fuck me,” Jay demanded. “No more blowjob. I want you to fill me up.” The words were a strong aphrodisiac to a body already aroused to fever pitch. Simon could barely swallow. Was it possible to be choked by lust? He didn’t need further invitation as he bounded onto the foot of the bed. He crawled over Jay until he straddled his body, arms

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resting on either side of his head, knees framing his hips, cock nudging against cock, and eyes peering into penetrating eyes. Jay pressed his palms against Simon’s chest, fingers splayed, and smoothed them up over his shoulders and around the back of his neck. He pulled him down for a brief kiss then let him go. His eyes opened and he searched Simon’s. “Ready for this?” “Oh, yeah.” Simon took one of the condoms from the pile near the pillow, knelt upright, and quickly sheathed himself. Jay was ready with a dollop of lube on the palm of his hand. He slathered it on Simon’s straining cock, pulling, tugging, massaging him to further fullness. Reaching between his legs, he slicked it into his anus. His heels dug into the bed, his pelvis lifted, and Simon watched avidly as Jay’s fingers prepared the way for him. He took hold of Jay’s wrist and moved his hand aside so he could take over, probing in and out, stretching the taut band of muscle. His legs trembled so he could hardly kneel. A strong shiver swept through him like a gust of wind on a blustery day. Need and desire filled him up yet left him empty and longing. Simon yielded to the demands of his hungry body and yearning spirit. With a hand on the back of Jay’s thighs, he pushed them even farther apart and increased the tilt of his hips, then guided his cock to the tiny puckered opening and pushed inside. Jay’s rectal muscles constricted him. The channel was so tight and hot Simon felt nearly burned as he pressed into that searing heat. He held his breath and wedged himself inside in tiny increments, feeling the passage loosen and yield at his passing. It took every ounce of discipline not to ram his way home like some rutting animal, but Simon took his time and was rewarded by Jay’s quiet groans and indrawn breath. “You like that?” Simon whispered. Jay answered with a smile and a thrust of his hips that pushed him down onto Simon’s cock.

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Simon groaned, too, at the pleasure coursing through him. Abandoning his slow entry, he pushed harder with a harsh grunt. “And that?” He knew how it felt. Knew the stretching, burning sensation, the exquisite pleasure-pain of being filled, and the exhilaration of a thick, strong cock hitting the sweet spot inside. “Yeah!” Jay muttered and grabbed Simon’s ass to pull him even deeper. “Fuck me.” Those words again seized Simon and shook him with another burst of lust like a whip to his backside. He intended to give Jay exactly what he wanted. Simon pulled out, the suction of Jay’s body clinging to his cock as if not wanting to let him go. Then he plunged back into the fiery heat, seating himself deeply with a satisfied grunt. Jay hissed and writhed with pleasure. “Again.” Out…and in, Simon rammed home, bracing his arms against the bed, his body sliding over hard, warm flesh. Jay moaned and met every thrust as Simon withdrew and filled him over and over. The flimsy wooden headboard banged against the wall in emphasis. Jay’s legs were stretched impossibly wide to accommodate Simon’s body, his knees raised high to provide a better angle for penetration. The position -- open, vulnerable, offering of his body -- was utterly sexy, and Jay’s face, drawn into an expression of agonized ecstasy, mouth open, brow knitted, eyes closed, was even hotter. His head tilted back, exposing his throat. Simon stared at the corded muscles of Jay’s shoulders and neck as he drove into him faster and harder. Lust focused in his cock, growing more intense with every stroke. He felt as if his cock was the center of his being rather than his brain or his heart. He would come in a moment, he knew. He lowered his head to suck on Jay’s soft throat and was still sucking when the first spasm hit him. His muffled groan as he came was enough to stir Jay to a matching reaction. Simon was so lost in the sensation of his cock pulsing deep inside the other man’s body that he was only dimly aware of the warm spunk spilling between them, making their sweat-slick stomachs

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even wetter. He released his mouthful of Jay’s neck to suck in a breath, and exhaled it on a harsh cry. “Oh, God!” His release pounded through him like his heartbeat in strong, steady throbs. There was that brief moment of weightlessness, like a dream of flying before the inevitable bump back into body and bed. Simon collapsed on top of Jay, breathing harshly, aware of the other man’s arms wrapped tightly around his back and his fingers clutching his shoulders hard enough to leave marks. Simon’s face was burrowed into the crook of his lover’s neck and shoulder. He breathed in Jay’s scent and darted his tongue out to sample the fresh, salty sweat gathered in the hollow above his collarbone. Jay’s heart pounded and his breath drew in and out of his lungs. “God, that was good.” His voice rumbled in the cavity of his chest, vibrating Simon’s eardrum. Simon lay for another moment, then pulled his slowly softening cock out of Jay for the last time. Reaching down, he peeled off the condom and pushed up on an elbow, looking for the nearest place to dispose of it. “Don’t worry. Just toss it on the floor. I’ll deal later.” Simon rolled to his back and stretched his arm over the edge of the bed, setting the evidence of his orgasm in a neat little pile. He gazed up at the cracked plaster ceiling. Brown and yellow water stains decorated the dingy white with Rorschach blots. There was a witch’s face with a long, hooked nose over in one corner leering down at them, and a vague dog shape dominated the center. “Do you see the pirate?” Jay asked. Simon smiled, amused Jay had known he was making sense of the patterns in the ceiling. “No. No pirate.” He pointed at the witch in the corner. “Right there.” “Ahh. I thought that was a witch.” He glanced sideways to see Jay’s forehead crinkle.

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“No way. I don’t get that at all. See, there’s even a pile of gold coins nearby…uh, unless it’s a pile of dog shit.” “Definitely the latter,” Simon pointed to the vague animal shape. “To go with the dog.” Jay laughed. “Just think, you could’ve stayed home and missed all this free entertainment. Aren’t you glad you came?” “Yes.” Simon stretched his arms over his head and twisted his spine until it cracked. “Very glad, though I suppose I should get going. I have to work in the morning.” “You can go there from here.” Jay turned to his side and raised himself on one elbow, resting a palm on Simon’s chest as though to hold him back from escape. “I want you to stay all night. I’m not quite finished with you yet.” “I only have my jeans. No office clothes.” “So what? I’ll lend you something, or you can stop by a store. Stay!” His eyes were pleading even as his voice demanded. “I’ll stay a little longer,” Simon promised.

***** Jay’s bed was really too narrow for two, but getting a queen-sized mattress and frame up the narrow staircase had been logistically impossible. The apartment above the bar was small, not reflecting the full floor space of the rooms below. The rest of the upstairs was lowceilinged attic, not suitable to be converted to a living area. Even if it was, Jay didn’t want to put the investment into fixing it up. He didn’t plan to live above his business forever. Sometimes he felt he was in limbo. He tried to save money for a house down payment, but the bar engulfed it with one little crisis after another. The day when he’d be able to afford a home seemed far away, and the business more an albatross than a smart venture. So his bed was small and not the best for entertaining guests. Simon didn’t seem to mind, though. He was sound asleep, tucked in next to Jay with an arm and leg thrown over

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him, pinning him to the mattress. His breath puffed against Jay’s back, warm and moist, his inhalations and exhalations comforting. Jay didn’t mind that he was sweating from their combined heat. He was just glad to have Simon there. It felt good, right, and a fulfillment of his premonition the other day that something special was coming. Simon reminded him of some wild bird that had dared to alight briefly but might very easily be frightened into flight. A bird was an odd analogy for such a big, strapping man, but an apt one. Fortunately, Jay was good with animals of all kinds. He’d even gentled a feral cat once and made it almost pet material. The trick with Simon was letting him know he was a safe haven, someone he could trust not to out him before he was ready, yet at the same time to keep nudging him in that direction for his own good. Beyond his issues and hang-ups, Simon had a soulful quality Jay found extremely appealing. In their brief conversations he’d shown flashes of dry humor that made Jay think they might really get along -- as soon as he got past Simon’s pesky aloofness. Of course, it didn’t hurt that these character aspects were packaged in the hot body of an African prince. Good genes in his long, lean frame and the strong bone structure of his face. He was fucking gorgeous and didn’t even seem to be aware of it…always a plus. Nothing Jay hated worse than a man obsessed with his own looks. Simon was definitely someone he wanted to get to know more deeply. If he was lucky, this might be the relationship he’d been looking for, even though he’d always told Charlie and Cindy he wasn’t in the market for a mate. He’d sworn his business was more than enough to keep him occupied, but now, with Simon softly breathing beside him, Jay could admit he had needed something else -- an end to the insidious loneliness that had nibbled at his mind in the dark stretches of the night. A partner and friend, a lover and soul mate, the terms sounded so cliché, but that didn’t make them any less true. Everybody needed someone special to love. Jay snuggled back against the wall of heat behind him, the bed creaking with his movements. He pulled Simon’s arm more tightly around him, sweat slicking both of them in

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a glistening sheen. He’d thrown the covers back long ago, and Jay imagined how they would look together to someone walking into the room. Dark and light, long and elegant, short and stocky, coiled together like a yin and yang symbol, the positive and negative energies of sun and moon. Smiling at the fanciful thought, Jay closed his eyes. It was all right though. Anyone who saw pirates and gold coins in the water stains on a ceiling was a bit of a dreamer, and his mother had always told him it was creative people who made the world worth living in. “Think how boring life would be without us, Jay.” She’d give him a wink. “Whatever you do, don’t be afraid to express that creativity. Go after life with every ounce of passion you possess.” When Jay opened his eyes again, it was morning and his bird had flown. He yawned and stretched, rolled to his side and sniffed the other pillowcase, inhaling the scent Simon had left behind. He patted the hollow in the bed. Cool. Simon must have slipped away in the early hours just before sunrise. Too bad Jay was such a heavy sleeper or he could’ve intercepted him, made firmer plans about that beach date. But control of this fledgling relationship was squarely in the other man’s court. Hopefully, he’d have the strength and courage to metaphorically fly back and alight on Jay’s hand again.

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Chapter Five

Jay was in the dugout watching Ron Skittle strike out when his phone rang. He pulled it from his gym bag, half expecting it to be his mom or Charlie. His pulse sped up when he recognized Simon’s number. “Hello?” “Hi. It’s Simon. Just wanted to thank you for the other night and apologize for not calling right away. You must think I’m the biggest ass in the world.” “Starting to.” Jay was only half teasing. It had been several days and the waiting had driven Jay crazy, but he had stuck to his guns, refusing to call, giving Simon all the space he seemed to want. “I’m sorry. It really was…great. And I wondered if you still want to go to the beach or whatever this weekend. Maybe even later this afternoon.” “Well, right now I’m at the ball field watching my team get its ass kicked by Bale Automotive. And there’s nothing I’d rather do later than hang with you, but it’s my night to work. Sorry.” “Oh. Of course. Too last minute. I understand.” Simon sounded dejected, chastened even.

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Jay hastened to assure him he wasn’t rejecting him completely. “But tomorrow would be great if you can make it. Supposed to be another hot one. Or, hell, if you like watching a bunch of amateurs get massacred by another bunch of amateurs, you could come out to the field and watch the game. We’ll be here another agonizing hour at least. After that, we usually go out for drinks, but I’d rather have a late lunch with you…if you’re interested,” he added casually, afraid he’d sounded too eager. “I’d like that. It’ll take me a while to finish up here and drive into the city. Where are you playing?” Jay gave him directions to the park. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go. New inning starting.” “What position do you play?” “Second base.” “Good luck.” Jay smiled as he tucked the phone away, picked up his glove, and trotted out onto the field. He should still be pissed at Simon for leaving him dangling for three days, but it was too beautiful a day to be annoyed about anything, even the miserable playing of his teammates. They were all supposed to be out there having fun, so what the hell if they were playing like a bunch of middle school kids who’d never picked up a bat or ball in their lives. Jay took his place behind the base and watched the pitcher, Rodriguez, throw a fastball that was just a little too slow. The batter from Bales nailed it, sending it flying, but low and straight…right into Jay’s glove. First out. He tossed the ball to Rodriguez. Could be this game would last a little longer than he’d thought.

***** By the time Simon arrived at the field, they were well into seventh inning and behind by more points than Jay wanted to think about. For the past fifteen minutes or so, he’d been obsessively checking the bleachers to see if Simon was there yet. When he saw his tall, rangy

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body climbing the stands, his heart lifted. Not good. He was already getting way too attached to a man who was as hard to pin down as it was to get Gunderson to pay his bar tab. It was almost Jay’s turn at bat. He stepped into the on deck circle, rotated his arms, then practiced a few swings. As he took his position at the plate, he forced the distraction of Simon from his mind and concentrated fully on the pitcher. Tanner was on third. It would be nice to at least be able to bring him home. The first ball was outside the plate, the second within hitting range. But he hesitated and the ball whizzed past him. “Strike.” A ball and a strike. No problem. Jay shook off his nerves and settled into his stance again, arms cocked, bat held high. The pitcher cocked his arm and released, sending the ball zooming toward Jay. He didn’t hesitate this time, but acted on instinct instilled from years of practice. The bat hit the ball with a satisfying crack. Jay ran to first. Tanner made it home. By the end of the game, Brewer’s United was only trailing Bale Automotive by a handful of points. Jay was pleased they’d closed the gap a little and glad he’d made a good personal showing in front of Simon. It was a little childish, he knew, but he didn’t want to look like an uncoordinated loser to the guy he had such a huge crush on. “Coming with us?” Rodriguez asked before he walked away. “Naw. I’ve got a friend waiting for me.” Jay shouldered his duffle and nodded toward the stands. “’Kay. Catch ya later.” Simon was standing behind the fence waiting for him as Jay strode from the dugout to the bleachers. “Good game.”

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“Thanks. Not one of our best, but” -- he shrugged -- “we were missing a couple of our better players.” Today Simon wore a pale blue polo shirt and khakis. Jay felt like a walking sweat stain in his dirty uniform. He gestured to himself. “Sorry. No time to go home and shower first. We’re going to have to eat pretty quickly, too, so I can get to the bar on time. Sylvia will have a cow if I’m late relieving her.” “That’s okay. You smell great to me.” A quicksilver smile touched his lips and was gone. Just that little comment and the tentative smile made Jay go from mildly horny to rock hard in an instant. He shivered, and it wasn’t from the evaporating moisture on his skin. “Oh really? Well maybe we should skip lunch entirely and I can rub my sweaty body all over yours.” Simon ducked his head slightly and looked out from beneath his brows. “Wouldn’t mind it. But you must be starving.” As if cued by his statement, Jay’s stomach rumbled loudly. Simon laughed. “Come on. Let me buy you a meal before you bite a chunk out of me.” Jay winked and repeated Simon’s line. “Wouldn’t mind it.”

***** He was hungrier than he’d thought, almost too ravenous to make polite conversation as he engulfed a huge burger with a side of fries and slaw. When he was finished, Simon pushed the rest of his chicken Caesar salad toward him. “Go ahead. I’ve eaten all I can.” “Sure? Thanks.” Jay was already digging in. He swallowed a mouthful and looked up at Simon. “I wish I didn’t have to work tonight, but there’s no way around it.”

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“And I wish I hadn’t taken so long calling you. I should have days ago. It was rude and wrong, and all I can say is…” He paused and shrugged. “It made me nervous, the other night. It was so…intense.” Jay nodded. It certainly had been. He’d had a lot of sex in his life, enough to know when something was special. He’d been reliving every moment of that evening ever since. “I’ve never actually spent a night with anyone before. Usually I clear out pretty much right away.” Simon shook his head. “A character flaw, I know. A psychologist would have a field day with me and all my hang-ups.” Jay set his fork down and wiped his mouth on his napkin, playing for time. He needed to choose his words carefully, not to antagonize or intimidate his skittish new lover. “I understand what you’re going through. Believe me, we’ve all been through it. Daring to trust is hard enough in any relationship, but for a gay man it’s compounded. There’s a lot more at stake than two guys who happen to like each other and want to become involved. There’s a whole raft of outside issues impacting them.” “Yes! Exactly.” Simon actually sighed in relief and his shoulders relaxed a little. “I know what I need to do. I know I can’t keep my real life hidden forever. But as long as I was just having flings there was no real pressure to come out. Now, if we do this thing, if one date turns to two, turns to spending the night at each others’ places, turns to a full-fledged relationship, I’m going to have to share the truth with my family.” Jay just nodded. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep working at my father’s firm after that, and, quite honestly, without me there I’m afraid he’s going to completely ruin everything it took him all these years to build. He’s not changing with the world; his business is dwindling. I can’t make him see reason, and I won’t be able to do what little I can to salvage things once I’m cast out.”

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Counting to ten, Jay kept his lips pressed tight. When he reached ten, he burst out, “Why are you so positive he won’t be able to accept you? Of course, he’s going to raise a fuss at first, but --” “You don’t know my father. Or how I was raised. African Americans aren’t very accepting of gays, not even the supposedly liberal upper crust circle my parents inhabit.” Simon waved a hand as if erasing the topic. “But, damn, I didn’t come to see you to talk about all this again. I just wanted to spend some time with you today.” Jay let the subject go. No doubt they’d revisit it. He grinned. “And all afternoon tomorrow? I still want to see you in a Speedo splashing in the waves.” He smiled. “A Speedo? I don’t think so. But, yes, I’ll be happy to do the beach thing tomorrow. What time shall we meet?” “Why don’t you come back to my place and we’ll discuss it? I’ve got to take a shower before work. You could help me with that.” Maybe if he got Simon to come with him, he could cajole him into hanging out at the bar until after hours and spending another night. “I…” He hesitated. “I could do that. If you think there’s time.” “I’ll make time. Sylvia will just have to deal.”

***** Jay made it home in record time and considered himself lucky not to be pulled over. Simon was right behind him, driving nearly as fast. For the thousandth time, he wished there was a separate entrance to his apartment, but he had to enter the bar to get to the stairway and Sylvia was on him like flypaper. “Hey, I’m only here twenty more minutes. I’m not staying a second late. I’ve got things to do,” she called the moment she saw him. “Yeah. Be right down.” Jay hurried to the back hall and the stairs leading to his crappy domain. He glanced back at Simon. “Sylvia isn’t the best employee in the world, but she’s

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what I’ve got. I kind of inherited her with the place. She worked for old man Grimes for years. I think she may have had a crush on him. Probably resents me for taking his place.” Jay opened the door of his apartment and ushered Simon inside. They were barely through the door when Simon grabbed him, spun him around, pushed him up against the door, and kissed him. Jay was surprised at the sudden masterful version of Simon, and he liked it. The weight of the other man’s body pinning his, the clean, sharp scent of Simon’s cologne, the warmth of soft, soft lips, and the smooth, wet tongue invading his mouth all combined in a heady cocktail that made him dizzy with desire. He slipped his hands up the broad length of Simon’s back and strong neck. He gripped the smoothly shaved scalp, pulling Simon even closer, kissing him even deeper. His cock pressed against the fabric of his uniform as if it would drill its way through if necessary to get to what it craved. Jay pulled away from Simon’s kiss with a little grunt. “Unh. Gotta shower now.” Nodding, Simon grabbed Jay’s shirt and undershirt and pulled them over his head. He bent to lick along his collarbones and across the flat plane of his chest to the pebbled aureoles and nipples sharp enough to cut glass. His tongue swirled over and around one before he drew it into his mouth. The sucking sensation had Jay closing his eyes and leaning the back of his head against the door again as he thrust his chest forward. Simon switched to the other side, licking, sucking, and lightly nipping, and Jay knew it was going to take longer than twenty minutes to get ready for work. Too bad, Sylvia. Jay imagined the salty flavor of his body. There was something very erotic about having Simon taste his sweat. He moaned softly as Simon licked a trail from his chest down his belly to the waistband of his pants. Crouching in front of him, he bent to unlace Jay’s cleats and pull them and his socks off. He reached for the front of his pants and pulled them and his underwear down. Jay’s cock bobbed forth in eager anticipation. Simon encircled it in his hand and stroked up and

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down the shaft, but didn’t take it into his mouth. Instead, he finished undressing Jay, pulling his pants the rest of the way off, leaving him standing naked in a puddle of discarded clothes. Still on his knees, Simon gazed up at him with lust kindled in his eyes, like embers in coals. “You’re so fucking hot.” “Looked in a mirror lately?” Jay grinned. “We’re both just amazingly handsome men. Ain’t we lucky?” He reached out a hand and grasped Simon’s, pulling him to his feet. “Come on. Clean me up.” In the bathroom, he helped Simon take off his clothes with detours for kissing and stroking and licking along the way. Together they stepped under the weak stream of water from the showerhead in the small bathtub. For a moment, Jay was embarrassed at the general crappiness of his bathroom; then he quit worrying about it and gave in to the pleasure of Simon’s hands lathering him with body wash. The man’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once, up and down his back and over the taut muscles of his ass, slicking up his arms and shoulders, over his chest and down the plane of his stomach to his groin. Simon gave his cock a miss, going around it to soap up Jay’s hips, thighs, and legs, all the way down to his feet. Jay’s cock vibrated with the need to be touched. As he pushed the soaking wet hair from his eyes and cleared them from the stream of water that blinded him, Jay saw that Simon was equally as erect. His fat prick jutted at an angle from his body. It was a beautiful sight with streams of water rolling down and dripping off it. In fact, Simon looked good wet all over. His dark skin glistened in the flickering fluorescent light that illuminated the shower. Jay longed to pull him to his feet and take his turn shoving the other man up against the wall and kissing him senseless. Finished with his washing, Simon faced Jay’s cock, slipped his hand around it, brought the tip to his lips, and kissed it. Jay groaned softly. Simon licked from the base to the swollen,

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red head, and Jay was entranced at the sight of the broad sweep of his tongue, the profile of his forehead, nose, and lips as seen from above. He sighed as the other man’s mouth engulfed him. Simon drew him in deep and sucked strongly. The aching need Jay had been holding back swelled forth in great waves as Simon stroked up and down and surrounded his cock in heat and wetness. Jay leaned his upper back against the tile wall as he thrust his hips into Simon’s hand and mouth. Simon cupped his balls, rubbed them with soap-slippery fingers, then slid his fingers along the path between Jay’s buttocks. Jay’s anus clenched in anticipation of Simon’s touch, which rimmed him lightly at first then delved inside. One finger, then two stretched the ring of muscle and filled him. The combination of sucking and massage on his cock, and the probing fingers fucking his ass soon had Jay jerking forward and back in rhythmic pulses. His grip on Simon’s head grew tighter, as he drove deeper into Simon’s throat. Pushing back, Jay thrust onto the fingers that had found his prostate and sent delight throbbing through him. “Oh, God, I’m gonna…” Before the words could even leave his mouth, Jay came, spilling over in steady spurts. He shuddered and groaned. Simon didn’t release him, but swallowed all he could give and milked him for more with hard tugs of his fist. Jay experienced a soul-shaking ecstasy in which he swore he left his body for a moment before crashing back into it. He gave a protracted groan and rolled his head against the tile, the hot water beating down into his face and open mouth. When the last wave of pleasure had receded, Jay straightened, brushed his soaking bangs back from his eyes, and blinked away water as he faced Simon, who had risen to his feet. “Damn, that was… Thank you. And, fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t even think about a condom.” Simon nodded. “’S okay. I trust you.”

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Impulsively, Jay grabbed him and pulled him close so they stood chest to water-slicked chest. He kissed Simon, tasting himself on the other man’s tongue. Then he rested his cheek against his broad, brown shoulder as the hot water changed to lukewarm. Jay finally pulled away and gazed into his face. “I have just one question to ask you,” he said in a dead serious tone designed to get Simon’s attention. “What?” Brown eyes darted nervously and his tongue swept over his lips. Knowing Simon was expecting some weighty request, Jay grinned as he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and offered it to him. “Will you wash my hair?”

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Chapter Six

Simon sat at the boardroom table in the dimly lit room with the entire sales team on the Zimmerman account, the client, and select members of his staff. Elyse Walters was giving the PowerPoint presentation, but Simon would be on the grill when she was finished. It was his job to field questions, further explain any details, and offer balm to soothe away points of contention. He should be paying attention to this with every last brain cell alert, but instead, the dark room was making him sleepy and he kept slipping back into memories of his time with Jay the past weekend. The aftermath of the baseball game had been just the beginning. Simon had stuck around the tavern for a while, nursing a Scotch at the bar and listening to Jay’s running commentary about the regulars as they came trickling in throughout the evening. It was entertaining and fascinating actually, hearing about these peoples’ lives. Jay assured him he was telling nothing that had been told to him in confidence. “A bartender is like a priest and the bar is a confessional. You don’t break that trust. I’m just telling you general facts that everybody knows. Not a lot of secrets kept in this old neighborhood.”

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Simon had thought about what that must be like, coming from a little subculture in the vastness of the city. But then, the same could be said for his tribe, the echelon of black society in Chicago. He knew who was related to whom and all about their dirty laundry. Jay had asked him to stay until close and spend the night, but Simon had refused, telling him he had things to do at home. It wasn’t true. He didn’t have so much as a load of laundry waiting for him. His house was pristine and his gardening caught up. But he felt like he needed some time to process and knew he’d be seeing a lot more of Jay the next day. Their time at the beach had been sun-soaked, sensuous bliss. They’d stretched a blanket on the sand at one of the city parks, making an island of their own amidst the noise and bustle of the other people. Simon was a little uncomfortable stretching out side by side with Jay in public. Men who weren’t gay simply didn’t lie that closely together. What if someone from the office happened to come to the beach with his or her family? But his anxieties quickly melted away like a Popsicle lying on a steaming sidewalk. He was too comfortable to allow worry in. Lying face up, he reveled in the sun bathing his face and body. Then he turned his head to the right so he could gaze at Jay through dark glasses. The man’s stocky body gleamed with sweat and tanning lotion. He was, of course, much paler than Simon, but tanning nicely under the broiling sun. Jay tilted his head and stared back at him through his sunglasses. God, he looked hot in them and in those navy swim trunks that were baggy enough not to show off his package but showed enough of his cut abs for that not to matter. “You looking at me?” he asked. “Are you looking at me?” Simon countered with a grin. “My eyes are about to pop out of my head. I was just kidding about seeing you in a Speedo.” “Hey, it’s a swim team thing. It’s what I’m used to wearing when I swim.”

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“Looks pretty gay,” Jay teased. “A little tight and showy, like maybe you should be in some strip show.” “Thanks. You’re doing wonders for my self-confidence,” Simon said dryly. Jay suddenly sat up and slapped his stomach. “Come on. Race you to the water.” “You’re on.” Simon was up like a shot and with his longer legs quickly outstripped Jay, despite the fact that the other man was probably in better shape than he was. He raced into the water until it was up to his hips then plunged into the breathtaking cold of Lake Michigan. Only on the hottest summer days was the water a comfortable temperature, and today they were hardly experiencing a heat wave. He dove under and swam out to the buoys that marked the swim area. Treading water, he turned to watch Jay churn through the water toward him like a paddlewheel boat. His strokes were effective but not particularly graceful. Simon had side-stroked a lazy circle around him as he plowed ahead, then he’d impulsively ducked under and slipped beneath Jay as sinuously as a seal. He’d given him a soft squeeze and a few rubs through his ballooning swim trunks, feeling the hard rod that lay pressed against his belly, before surfacing again. “Don’t do that, unless you want to be towing me back to shore and giving me mouthto-mouth. As you can see, I’m not that great of a swimmer. I need all my concentration just to keep afloat.” Swimming to shallower water, they horsed around like kids, splashing each other and tossing a Frisbee someone had abandoned in the water back and forth. Simon hadn’t felt so carefree and young since…ever, it seemed. Not since he was a very young boy at any rate, not since before he began to realize he was “different” than his friends and that his kind of different was always going to set him apart from them to some extent. It wasn’t that he’d never laughed or played with friends, but he’d always felt his secret hovering around him like some kind of misty shroud.

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After playing in the water, the two men stretched out on Jay’s ragged quilt again and talked about life, sports, the weather, current events, whatever crossed their minds, until Simon announced he was starving and Jay pointed out a nearby hot dog vendor. They ate then lay in the sun some more, swam again, and returned to dozing in the sun. By the time they left, Jay’s skin was bright pink despite the sunblock. They returned to his place to shower and dress before going out to dinner, but never managed to leave the apartment. There was sex in the shower again -- Jay’s hands wrapped around both their cocks as they kissed and groped every inch of exposed flesh. Coated in soapy lather, his hands pulled and pulled on their joined flesh until first Simon then he came. This was followed by sex in the bedroom. Whipping the towel off Jay’s hips, Simon pushed him over the foot of the bed, a hand braced against the small of his back, and stood behind him, fucking him hard and fast. Ordering a pizza seemed easier than getting dressed, so they spent the evening sprawled naked on the couch, watching a ball game and taking intermittent sex breaks. Simon loved the feel of Jay’s hot skin beneath his hands and couldn’t stop touching him, even when they weren’t rutting like sex-crazed teenagers. He insisted on rubbing aloe ointment on Jay’s sun-damaged skin, and was treated to a massage in return. By the end of the evening, Simon couldn’t imagine how he could go without touching this man for an entire workday, let alone several. He knew he was hooked, and he knew he was in trouble. “Any questions?” Elyse’s voice drew him back to the boardroom where the lights had been turned up and the PowerPoint presentation was finished. “Simon, do you want to take over here?” She gave him a hard look, and he stood quickly, aware that he’d missed her cue for him to take point on this meeting. He moved to the front of the conference table and began answering a rapid-fire barrage of questions and doubts expressed by their difficult client. Simon could hardly blame Zimmerman. The first ad campaign they’d shown him had been totally inadequate for his needs, not reflecting the wishes he’d expressed, because Simon’s father refused to listen to his

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design staff and had insisted on a standard campaign that would’ve been cutting edge a decade or more ago. Simon was proud of himself for talking Zimmerman down off the proverbial ledge, getting him to come back inside the firm of Dunham and Chase and give them another chance to earn his trust. But today’s meeting was critical for more reasons than winning back a client with a huge account. Simon didn’t want to abandon his father with a slowly dwindling business. He’d promised himself if he won Zimmerman back and put Elyse in a position where she could gently guide his father’s decisions, or at least circumvent some of them, he’d begin taking the necessary steps toward leaving the firm and starting his own business. When the last of the questions had been answered, Simon wrapped the meeting up with a summation. “We hope this plan meets all your needs, taking Zimmerman Pharmaceuticals in bold new directions.” Brad Zimmerman beckoned him over as the rest of his associates and Simon’s team filed from the room. “I’ll tell you right now…” Simon’s stomach dropped at the leaden tone. He braced himself for a “no.” Hours of planning and hundreds of dollars preparing this presentation wasted. “I’m impressed,” Zimmerman continued. “This is the kind of creative thinking I was asking for the first time. It’s too bad we had to go through so much unpleasantness to get it. I’m not committing until I’ve talked with my people, but I’ll tell you now. It looks good to me.” His heart lifted. He felt like a bird released from a cage and rising into the sky -- strong, powerful, ready to soar. This was what he’d been waiting for. This was what he’d needed. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it. Trust me, our team will do everything in its power to expand your company’s business into all the new markets we discussed.”

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After bidding Zimmerman good-bye, Simon flipped open his phone and called his father. He’d specifically planned this meeting for a time he knew he’d be out of town visiting a client in Detroit. The last thing he’d wanted was him undermining his sales pitch. “What is it? I’m about to go into a meeting.” His father’s tone was brusque. “Just calling to let you know we’ve got Zimmerman Pharmaceuticals back. The team just finished the presentation, and Brad was pleased and sounds like he’s ready to move forward.” “Good! Very good. I’m impressed, Simon. Didn’t think you could do it. Although I would’ve liked to have been in on that meeting. It was a little underhanded planning it when I’d be gone. Didn’t want the old man interfering, eh?” He sounded nearly jovial. “Suppose that’s natural. You need to make your own mark and all that.” “Yes.” The opening to bringing up his future plans was right there in front of him, but the timing was off. He couldn’t spring this news on his father just before his meeting and over the phone. It had to be face to face. “I have to go now, but good job, son. Oh, and give your mother a call. She’s still waiting to hear from you about that party she’s planning.” He ended the call abruptly, as usual, without a good-bye. Simon closed the phone with a sigh and shake of the head. So his mother’s plan had blossomed from a blind date dinner, bad enough, to a party. He knew what that meant. The longer he dragged his feet the bigger the event would become until there was no way he could refuse to attend. The rest of the day flew by. Simon was riding high and feeling great. He couldn’t wait to see Jay. It was great to have someone to share with, but it shook him how quickly he’d come to think of Jay as that special person, the one he wanted to tell, the person who would celebrate his good news or commiserate with him on bad.

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By the time Simon finished up at work after a last meeting with Elyse, it was right in the middle of happy hour. Jay was busy when he arrived, so Simon took a seat at the bar and waited for him to have time to talk. It was a joy to watch his lover striding around in his little kingdom behind the bar, serving up drinks with a white towel thrown over one shoulder, a T-shirt that stretched tight across his chest, and a welcoming smile on his face when he glanced up and saw him. He finished pouring a vodka tonic, plunked it on the waitress’s tray, then came over to Simon. Resting his elbows on the bar, Jay leaned across so their faces were only a foot apart. “Hey. Good to see you.” Simon fought the urge to incline his head a few more inches and kiss him. “Hi. Great day at work. Just wanted to share it with you. Pour me a Grey Goose.” “You got it.” As Jay moved to fill his order, Simon glanced at Max Gunderson off to his left, sitting on his regular stool. “Hi. How are you?” The old man’s eyes were bleary and red-rimmed. He’d probably been sitting there most of the afternoon again. He squinted as he gazed at Simon. “You’re here a lot now, aren’t you?” “Um, I guess.” He hadn’t actually been in the bar nearly as often as up in Jay’s apartment, but he had spent more time here than at home over the past days. Jay set the vodka in front of Simon and leaned toward him again. “What’s up?” “Remember the first day I came in here?” Impossible to believe it had been less than two weeks ago. “I’d just come from seeing a difficult client? Well, our sales team landed him! This is a huge account.” “Congratulations! I’m happy for you.” With someone else they might have been polite words, the expected response, but Jay’s wide smile imbued the words with meaning. He

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really rejoiced in Simon’s happiness and that felt damn good. Jay lifted his water bottle and tapped it against Simon’s glass. “This is about more than that, though.” His voice lowered as he noticed Gunderson straining to catch the conversation. “I can feel all right now about leaving the firm -- not like I’m abandoning a sinking ship. I can start my own business and then I can start living my own life. No more secrets.” His eyes met Jay’s, sending a message, a promise. “Good. That’s real good.” The other man’s smile grew softer and more intimate. For a second, as he leaned just a little closer, Simon thought he was going to cup his face and kiss him. Instead, Jay grasped his hand, lying on top of the bar, and gave it a quick, warm squeeze before letting go. For a long moment, they gazed into each other’s eyes. The blaring jukebox music and chattering voices drifted away, and it was as if they were in their own little bubble of space, apart from the world. “Hey!” Gunderson’s voice broke the spell and the silence. “Are you two fruits or something?” Jay straightened and turned toward the old man. “Yes, Max. I told you that once a long time ago, remember?” “Yeah. But I thought you were kidding! You’re really a fag?” Jay let out a snort of laughter. “With all the chicks that hit on me, have you ever seen me go off with one of them? Christ, man, use your head.” “But…” Max’s gaze flicked back and forth between them, his eyes suddenly more alert, like someone had flipped on a switch. “But you’re… You could probably have any woman in here if you wanted to. Why in the hell would anyone…? I just don’t get it. And besides, he’s a nig -- he’s black.” His voice lowered on the word as if Simon wasn’t sitting right there listening.

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“Okay.” Jay’s voice was suddenly hard and unfriendly, his mouth a grim line, and his eyes almost scary. “I’m going to draw a real simple picture for you, Max. You know how you always complain after one of Sylvia’s shifts that you don’t like her and wish I’d work every night? Doesn’t really matter who serves your beer, does it? It’s the same beer. But you like me and not her. That’s just the way it is. Can’t help how you feel, right?” Max frowned. “You trying to say you think I’m a fag? No fucking way. I’m no homo.” Jay sighed. “No. The point is nobody can help the way they feel or the fact that they like one person better than another. I happen to like men not women, and I particularly happen to like Simon. Get it?” Gunderson continued to frown and muttered something under his breath. Jay stood over him, slightly intimidating in his stance. “Let me put it another way. Do you want to take your drinking to a different bar? You’re welcome to.” The man’s eyes widened and flicked from Jay to Simon and back again. “No. I don’t want to do that.” “Then get over it and keep your trap shut.” Max gave a brief nod, shot another glance at Simon before dropping his gaze to the foam on his beer. Jay stood in front of him, staring, arms folded over his chest for a moment, then walked over to Simon. He gave him a wink and a smile, leaned over, and said softly enough that Gunderson wouldn’t hear, “And that’s how it’s done, son.” “Show off.” Simon couldn’t suppress his own smile at Jay’s smug tone. “It’s not always that easy and you know it.” Just try to pull that intimidating bullshit with someone like my

father. See how far that gets you.

*****

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Simon’s garden became a jungle over the next couple of weeks as the weeds overtook his carefully planted flowers and vegetables. Cherry tomatoes plopped on the ground and rotted. Lettuce grew long and wilted in the hot sun. Wildflowers and groundcover choked out some of the annual flowers entirely. Weeds grew between the paving stones of the path. Every time he stopped by the house, he’d promise himself to spend at least a few hours fixing the damage, fighting back the encroaching wildness, but after doing a load of laundry, catching up on some bills and several other household tasks, he never found the time to devote to his poor garden. He was off to Jay’s again, leaving the zinnias and pepper plants to fend for themselves. It was hard to miss the feeling of rich soil sifting though his fingers when he had the immeasurably superior sensation of Jay’s skin sliding beneath his hands. Too often, he went straight to the bar from work and never made it home at all. He had to buy new shirts, underwear, and a couple of pairs of pants. After one such early morning shopping trip to pick up something to wear to the office, he decided he should just keep a few clothes in Jay’s closet. Jay pushed aside the flannel shirts on misshapen old metal hangers to make room for Simon’s dress shirts on plastic ones. Several pairs of slacks, neatly pressed and clipped to their hangers hung above shined loafers, which lay on the floor next to dirty sneakers. A few somber ties hung on a rack beside Jay’s baseball uniform. On Jay’s occasional free nights when the taciturn Sylvia took over the bar, they went to a movie or stopped by a nightclub. As graceless as Jay was swimming, he was even worse on the dance floor. Simon laughed as he tried to show his partner how to move, grabbing his hips, pulling him close and getting him to move in sync. “There is actually a rhythm in music. Did anyone ever explain that to you?” Jay shrugged. “I’m challenged. Keep showing me and I’ll get it eventually.” There were more baseball games. Sometimes Simon went and watched. Other times he took the opportunity to go home and face the responsibilities of being a homeowner, which he’d neglected. For the first time ever, his front lawn was longer and shaggier than his neighbors, the Lambrights.

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One weekend they decided to get out of the city and drive to a tourist town on the lake to stay at a bed and breakfast. They’d gone through the twenty-first century mating ritual of showing each other their tests. Now they could fuck any way they pleased without the annoying interruption of putting on a condom. They spent hours climbing the dunes and taking an occasional cooling dip in the lake. In a secluded hollow between the dunes, they fumbled free of their clothes and had a quick interlude that left them both sweating and coated in sand. Simon flicked the white grains off Jay’s tan skin then stroked his hand all the way down his slick chest and stomach to his depleted cock. He gripped the flaccid length and stroked it lightly. “I’ll never get tired of this.” Jay laughed. “That’s nice, but there’s kind of a sandpaper thing going here that’s not too pleasant.” He pushed Simon’s hand away from his cock. “I think we need another swim to wash off. Do you think someone will catch us if we skinny-dip?” The weekend together was like a picture postcard of what a summer vacation should be. Simon hadn’t experienced such a wonderful, lazy time in years and never with such a pleasant companion. More than a lover, Jay was quickly becoming a good friend, someone whose company he enjoyed and whose irrepressible sense of fun and good humor was infectious. “If you don’t watch out, you’re going to turn into an extrovert,” Jay teased one evening as Simon made a lame joke that set them both laughing. Jay was leaning against his bedroom doorframe, naked, watching Simon put his laptop away and organize his paperwork for the following day. “And I suppose that leaves me to become the introvert, all moody and brooding.” “Is that what you think I am?” Simon closed the case and set it near the bed, then turned toward Jay. “Moody?”

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“Face it. You’re not exactly Mr. Glass Half Full. But that’s fine. That’s why we balance well. We make a good couple.” “We’re a couple.” He said the words with a slight lift that landed it somewhere between a statement and a question. “Are we? You tell me. Is this a relationship?” Simon realized Jay was right. Sometime during the weeks they’d spent together they’d slipped into a relationship. He’d fought hard to avoid exactly this kind of thing, always keeping sex simple with no strings, but here he was smack in the middle of his first real relationship. He’d fallen hard and there was no point in denying it. “Yes.” Jay pushed off the doorframe and sauntered toward him across the room. “If it’s a relationship, isn’t it kind of odd that you practically live at my place, but I’ve never even seen yours?” “I thought… It’s, uh, more convenient with your working hours and mine for us to end up here,” Simon hedged. “Yet we managed to go out of town last weekend for an overnight.” Jay stopped in front of him, gazing steadily into his eyes, refusing to release him. “We can’t keep hiding forever, you know.” “Hiding? What are you talking about? We’ve gone out. We’ve gone to dinner and clubs.” “Dinner at restaurants where you feel pretty certain you won’t run into anyone you know, gay clubs where we can be an anonymous part of the crowd. And I’m guessing you’d rather not have me at your house because the neighbors might notice a car parked overnight, might wonder who you have staying there, and might see me leaving your house in the morning.”

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Simon swallowed. Jay was so accurate it was scary. He’d barely acknowledged those facts to himself, but all of them were the truth. “I…” He trailed off. There was nothing he could say. “So, is this a relationship?” Jay’s eyes blazed sapphire, and he reached out to rest a hand on Simon’s waist. “Or is it just having a good time for a while?” Impossible to resist those eyes, that touch. Simon could hardly think straight when he was this close to Jay. “What do you want me to say? I don’t know the answer to that. It’s too soon to tell.” Jay shrugged and nodded. “All right. But not too soon to take a few baby steps forward. All I’m asking is for you to invite me to your house. If you can’t even do that…” “You’re right,” Simon agreed. “I guess I have been stalling. This” -- he gestured at the room around them -- “just seemed so much easier. But, yes, I want you to come to my place. I want you to see it, to sleep in my bed, walk in my garden, eat at my table. When can you come?” Jay was right. It was only a small step, but as he gave the invitation, Simon felt like he’d taken a giant moonwalk leap forward.

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Chapter Seven

Simon’s house was even nicer than Jay had pictured. The front yard was emerald precision, and the flowerbeds were splashes of color in that small expanse of green. The entire street looked more like a painting than a real neighborhood. Manicured lawns, hedges, and shrubs shielded quaint houses from view. There wasn’t a sign of a bicycle or skateboard. If there were children in any of the houses, their games were kept to their own yards or the poor kids were carefully shepherded from one organized activity to another. Jay felt like he’d entered Stepford, and while he admired the beauty and tranquility, he also felt vaguely nervous, afraid he’d be seized and lobotomized -- turned into a yuppie suburban robot. “Your house is amazing,” he complimented Simon as they toured the perfectly appointed, color-coordinated rooms. “How can you stand to stay in my dump when you have this to come home to?” “But my house doesn’t have you in it.” Simon slipped an arm around Jay’s waist, pulled him close, and kissed him. At first it was just a peck on the cheek, but when Jay turned toward him, their mouths meshed and the kiss became long and lingering. Yielding to the soft, warm pressure of Simon’s mouth, Jay thought about how he’d changed over the short time they’d been together. The uptight man who’d first walked into his bar would never

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have shown such casual affection. Simon was taking giant strides forward. Jay knew he had to continue to be patient with him, even though it kind of galled him that he’d had to wrangle this invitation to stay overnight. Simon’s tongue dipped between his lips and teased his to response. In a moment, Jay’s niggling annoyance evaporated as he relaxed under the stroking hands on his back that slipped down to knead his buttocks. He felt the strength and warmth of Simon’s back beneath his own hands, the hardness of his chest and inevitable bulge of his erection pressed against his front. When he finally pulled away from the kiss, Jay had to gasp for air. “I’ll show you my bedroom,” Simon purred in a deep bass several notes lower than his regular speaking voice. “I’d love to see your bedroom, but we may never make it out again. Better show me your garden first. I want to see your passion.” Jay pushed him away and held up a hand. “Not

that kind of passion.” Simon laughed and led him through the French doors into his backyard. “It’s a mess. So much work to be done.” Jay didn’t see it. The garden was paradise: lots of little ornamental trees and shrubs, flowers and pathways, a tinkling fountain and a quiet pool with goldfish, a couple of benches, and even a screened gazebo where a person could sit on a summer evening and not be devoured by mosquitoes. “It looks perfect to me. What needs doing?” “Oh, God, where to begin.” Simon began pointing around, indicating the crabgrass spreading into his nasturtiums, the sprawling bean plants that had to be staked upright, the roses infested with Japanese beetles, and the asters that needed to be sprayed for aphids. “I can help,” Jay offered. “But I warn you, I barely know a dandelion from a tulip, so you might want to be careful where you point me.” “Seriously? You’d want to do that?” Simon’s face lit up with a huge smile. Jay would’ve done a hell of a lot more than a little weeding or pest control to earn that radiant smile.

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Soon, Jay found himself squatting on the flagstone path, pulling grass from between the flat stones. Most of them were framed in velvety green moss, but grass was beginning to inch its way between them. It was easy but painstaking work. Simon informed him he couldn’t just break off the grass but had to pull it up from the roots. Getting the damn things to loosen and release their grip on the soil was harder than it looked. By the time he’d worked through several yards of pathway, he was near the Koi pool, and he paused to peer at the slowly circling orange and black fish. When they saw him, they darted to the surface, eager for food. “Sorry. Got nothing for you,” he told them. Jay glanced toward Simon, tying beanstalks to long stakes. “Hey, can I feed your fish?” He looked over and smiled. “Sure. Bucket’s in the shed over there. Only give them a half scoop.” Jay rummaged through the little building at the back of the garden, located the fish chow, and carried some out to the pool. He cast it across the surface, and the water churned as the fish fought for supremacy like an eager flock of pigeons in the park. He watched them for a moment then looked at Simon. The golden sun shone on Simon’s gleaming scalp. Simon wiped a skim of sweat off his forehead as he moved to the next plant in the row and his skillful hands moved about their task. Jay admired the way his muscles moved under his T-shirt and the way his jeans hung low on his hips. He looked so natural here, at one with nature like some kind of mythological being Jay couldn’t recall the name of. He decided right then it was very important that he see Simon naked in this garden before he left. What a sight he’d be in the moonlight, his body a stark contrast in black, white, and gray shades. Oh, yes, there would definitely be garden sex tonight! But first there were several hours of intensive gardening during which Jay learned the difference between chickweed and chrysanthemums. The methodical clearing of weeds from around the plants was satisfying, but also incredibly boring after a while. By the time Simon announced they’d done enough and should stop for a couple of beers, Jay was more than

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ready. Jay twisted the crick from his back, rinsed his hands at the outdoor spigot, then followed his host into the kitchen. “I can’t believe this,” Simon said as they took turns washing up at the kitchen sink. “I invite you to my house then put you to work.” “Hey, I asked.” Jay laughed. “But don’t count on me asking again. I think I’ll leave the gardening to you. I’d prefer to sit and look at it than actually work in it.” They prepared a mid-afternoon snack and ate it while sitting at the patio table on the edge of the garden. As he surveyed the pastoral beauty and sipped a beer, Jay thought he could quickly get used to the quiet ease of suburban living. “This is a real home you’ve made -- very welcoming and comfortable.” He smiled. “Definitely worth blowing off a ball game to spend the day here.” “Will your team survive without you?” He shrugged. “It’s summer. People are always coming and going on family vacations. Playing is supposed to be fun, and if it becomes too much of a commitment, it sucks the fun right out of it. I gave ’em a heads up and there are enough players.” After they finished eating, Simon finally showed Jay his bedroom. They got distracted there for a good hour. Then they left the house for a while, drove to a store to get more supplies for dinner and pick up a movie to watch later. Simon apologized for not having anything in the house. “I’m home so little these days, everything kept getting spoiled.” “Well, hopefully, you’ll be home more often now,” Jay said pointedly. “’Cause I like this country living. I wouldn’t have any problem coming over after work, even if it’s a bit of a drive.” He glanced at Simon to check his reaction. Bold move to be inviting himself over on a regular basis, but then Jay had never been one for backing off from what he wanted. Simon stopped the shopping cart to examine a bunch of green things Jay didn’t recognize in the produce department. “I’d like that.” He cast a shy smile at him. “I’m sorry I took so long to invite you.”

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Jay returned the smile then pointed at the leafy thing. “What the hell is that?” “Fresh cilantro.” He picked up the greens, smelled them, then offered them for Jay to do the same. “I’d like to get a patch established in my garden, but haven’t had luck with it so far.” The plant had a nice fresh scent. Jay broke off the end of a sprig and popped it into his mouth. It tasted a lot stronger than when it was in tiny flecks mixed into salsa. He nodded. “Good stuff. I would’ve just bought a jar of sauce and some microwave burritos.” Simon grimaced. “Tonight we cook from scratch -- all natural, fresh ingredients.”

***** When he got into the chopping and measuring, Jay was surprised at how entertaining cooking could be. It was a lot more fun with two and when one of you knew what the hell he was doing in the kitchen. The resulting feast could’ve been served at the best Mexican restaurant in town. Once more they ate at the patio table, cracked open a bottle of wine, drank, and talked while the sky turned from rose to gray. Soft jazz played from speakers concealed in the foliage, and little lights came on all over the garden when the day had fully turned to dusk. If possible, the garden was even more beautiful in the evening. There was a light trained on the fountain that graced the center, illuminating the cascading water falling over rock. The Koi pool was lit from beneath, casting shifting fluid lights on the leaves above it. Glimpses of colorful flowers shone in shafts of light and the deep shadows only enhanced their brilliance. They’d cleared the table of dinner dishes before lingering over the wine. Jay decided it was time to fulfill his earlier promise to himself to see Simon naked in the garden. He rose from his chair and held out his hand. “Walk with me.” Holding his lover’s hand, he strolled through the natural beauty to the gazebo nearly hidden in a copse of trees. He pulled open the screen door and ushered Simon inside. Before the door had even closed, he pulled Simon into his arms. Jay held him in a bone-crushing

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grip and ravaged his mouth. The pliant lips gave way to his aggressive kisses. Jay cupped the back of Simon’s neck, holding him steady as he angled his head to kiss him even deeper. Even though they’d had a long, luxurious interlude earlier in Simon’s bed, he wanted him with a sudden, hungry desperation, as if they hadn’t touched in weeks instead of hours. Jay reached for Simon’s shirt and pulled it over his head, unfastened his jeans and tore them down his legs. Simon stooped to remove his shoes, socks, and the puddle of jeans around his ankles, keeping his one-footed balance with a hand on Jay’s shoulder. When his lover was completely naked, Jay stood and quickly stripped off his own clothes. He gazed at Simon’s long, lean body, glowing softly in the fairy lights from the garden that shone into the gazebo. Jay glanced at the chaise lounge nearby, just made for such a situation it seemed, but that wasn’t what he wanted. “Outside,” he grunted gruffly. “I want to take you out in your garden under the trees or right in the middle of the damn vegetables in the dirt. I want to fuck like animals in the moonlight.” “Um, there is no moon tonight,” Simon pointed out. “Besides, what if the neighbors --” “Fuck your neighbors! This community is set up for privacy. There’s no way anyone can see over your garden walls, and we can keep reasonably quiet, can’t we?” Jay grabbed Simon’s hand and tugged him toward the door. “Come on. I want to see you out in nature, moon or no moon.” Simon allowed himself to be dragged outdoors toward a clear patch of grass near the goldfish pool and the copse of ornamental trees that surrounded it. When they reached it, Jay gave a gentle push against Simon’s chest. “Sit,” he ordered. Simon obeyed. “Lay back, one leg cocked, hands behind your head.” Again, he obeyed the commands until he lay like a pinup boy in an art magazine. The reflected lights from the pool shimmered over his skin, and the shadows were in stark relief,

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delineating each muscle of his body. Jay crouched to shift Simon’s position a little, one arm up over his head instead of behind it, fingers curled slightly, head tilted toward the pool, and the hard length of his cock stretched against his belly. Simon’s skin was in shades of teak and honey brown, like finely polished wood. “Beautiful. Damn, I want your picture just like this. Do you have a camera?” Simon laughed, but when Jay didn’t, he paused. “Are you serious?” “Yeah. I’m no photographer, but this shot makes itself, the lighting, your skin, everything is perfect.” “It’s, uh, in the house, my top dresser drawer. You’re really going to take a nude picture of me? I’m not sure how I feel about that.” “What? Do you think I’m going to spread it around the Internet or something? Jesus!” Jay felt a little of his rapture oozing away. “Of course not. No. Go ahead.” Simon waved him toward the house. “Don’t move!” Jay literally ran indoors, took the stairs two at a time going both ways, and returned with the camera in hand. He repositioned Simon exactly as he wanted him then began snapping shot after shot. “Look away from me, toward the pool.” After another couple of photos, he commanded, “Now, keep your face that direction, but cut a glance toward me. That’s it, baby, work that sultry pout.” He laughed as Simon began to relax and ham it up a little, playing the part of a model. Jay couldn’t wait to see the array of photos indoors under decent lighting, but he was sure he had something from the stiff, reserved early photos to the seductive glances and downright dirty poses of the final shots. Finally, he’d had enough of playing and set the camera aside. “Now, turn over,” he ordered, uncapping the lube he’d had the foresight to get when he’d grabbed the camera.

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His cock was as stiff as a poker from the cool evening breeze brushing over his skin and from the eroticism of both the photo shoot and the novelty of sex outside. It didn’t hurt that Simon’s ass thrust provocatively into the air as he pressed one cheek to the green grass and raised himself on his knees. Jay lowered himself to his knees, pushed Simon’s feet farther apart, and took hold of his taut cheeks. He spread them wide and gazed at the sweet, puckered hole hidden in the dark cleft. A shaft of light just barely illuminated it -- enough that he could see it clenching and releasing spasmodically. Simon was so ready for a good fuck. Jay slicked his fingers and rubbed them up the cleft and into the tight opening -- first one, then two, and finally three -- stretching and stretching Simon as he moaned and pushed back onto them. “Fuck me!” he gasped. “Now.” The strangled words were half command, half plea. Quite often, Jay was the bottom, but tonight he was definitely into topping. He removed his fingers from inside Simon’s body and slathered his cock in lube with a few strong, hard pulls. Moving in behind his lover, he guided himself to his hole and pushed inside with a hard thrust meant to punish as much as pleasure. Jay grunted in excitement as he impaled that tight, beautiful ass. Simon gasped at the rough entry and pushed back against him. “Do it hard!” he begged. Jay didn’t need encouragement. He’d originally intended to take his time with Simon in the garden, a slow leisurely lovemaking that would last a long time, but now he was whipped into a frenzy and wanted to ride him hard and fast. He gripped those narrow hips tight and drove in with stroke after stroke, grunting each time like a rutting animal. Seemingly excited by the sound, Simon met every thrust and let out his own low groans, curses, and murmurs of encouragement. “Like that. Yeah. Fuck me.” The words were like a flail to Jay’s backside, pushing him to go even faster and deeper. The heat of friction and the inside of Simon’s body was nearly unbearable on the sensitive skin of his cock. Their bodies slapped together, skin against skin, softly, wetly, and their

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guttural sounds of pleasure were an ironic counterpoint to the soft music still piping through the air. Jay drove in with one final thrust and froze, his balls drawn up and his cock exploding in sweet release. Wave after wave of delight coursed through him as he came deep inside his lover. Jay’s eyes closed tightly as he cried out his ecstasy. It was only after he’d come back into himself that he realized he’d done nothing to relieve Simon. He’d been gripping the other man’s hips like they were a life raft; now he slipped his hand around Simon’s body and gripped his jutting cock, pulling it with harsh, heavy-handed strokes. Simon must have been on the verge of coming himself, because he began to groan louder and shudder. “Oh, God. I’m coming.” He gave a loud groan, having apparently forgotten his fear of the neighbors overhearing, and spilled over Jay’s hand in hot spurts. Jay crouched over Simon’s back like a sheltering tree, one hand at the nape of his neck while his other continued to massage every last drop of cum from his slowly depleting cock. “That’s it, baby. Come for me,” he murmured. Simon gave a soft whimper. His fingers gripped the grass on either side of his head, and his ass slowly lowered as he allowed his knees to slide down so he was sprawled flat on the ground. Jay wiggled his hand from beneath Simon’s groin and lay on top of him, covering him. “Like that?” he whispered near his ear. “Oh, yeah,” he muttered into the grass. “Good.” Jay kissed the soft skin behind his ear, then moved to lie with his head resting between Simon’s shoulder blades. Fresh air tickled his back and buttocks and he wiggled a little at the sensation. His knees dug into soft grass and dirt. In fact, a pebble was biting into his kneecap, but he didn’t want to move. He felt like a melted puddle on top of Simon, and had the impression of the pair of them as one being with two minds lying under the starry sky. The universe might spin around them, but they were safe at its center, together in the garden.

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Chapter Eight

Simon gazed at his reflection in the mirror, pulled his lips back to reveal his teeth in a grimacing smile, and extended his hand toward himself. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Moran, Mr. Moran. I’m Simon.” His heart pounded, and the back of his shirt stuck to the sweat wetting his skin. “I’m your son’s…special friend.” Holy Christ, how had he allowed Jay to talk him into this? He reflected that Jay somehow always managed to get his way. He was as inexorable as a tide. First had come the request to be invited to Simon’s house, then he’d brought up a dinner invitation to his friends’ house. That hadn’t been bad. Charlie and Cindy were nice, easy to talk to, and if Charlie occasionally got a little acidic, Simon thought it was more to do with his jealousy over Simon usurping his place as Jay’s best friend rather than his aversion to homosexuality. But Jay kept on pushing the envelope and now, somehow, he’d talked Simon into having dinner with his parents. What the hell was the man’s name again? The mother was Mary and the father, oh right, Brian -- nice Irish names for a nice Irish family. Thank God he didn’t have to meet the brothers, too! What would Jay want from him next, a commitment ceremony?

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“About ready?” Jay’s gaze met his in the mirror as he peered over his shoulder. “Don’t freak out on me.” “I’m not freaking out,” Simon snapped. “I’m just, understandably, a little nervous. Anyone would be, meeting his lover’s parents, and ours is kind of a special case.” Jay rested a hand on Simon’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss his neck. “Everything will be all right. Try and relax.” But Simon felt jumpy and irritated, not comforted by Jay’s blasé attitude. The man never seemed to get ruffled, and he made Simon feel like he was being unreasonable and childish to care so much about what other people thought. Sometimes his unrelenting cheerfulness was too much to take. Simon shrugged off his hand and moved away. “I have to get my shoes.” On the drive over to the Morans’, he continued to stew about being forced into a situation he wasn’t ready for. Why did he let Jay manipulate him? He met Jay’s attempts at small talk with a wall of silence. When they finally pulled over and parked, Jay turned to him. “Look, I’m sorry I pushed. If you’re going to be this upset before you’ve even met them, we can just leave. I’ll call and make an excuse.” “No. We’re here now. Might as well get it over with.” Simon didn’t meet his eyes as he climbed out of the car and faced the tall, narrow brownstone where Jay had grown up. It was still early in the evening and the street was a busy place. Old people sat in lawn chairs on their front stoops. Children played games on the sidewalk, and there was a street hockey game going on in the road. A group of teens slouched past, loud and obnoxious in their exuberant youth. Music blared from an open window, and from others floated the murmur of televisions. Drivers honked at the hockey players to let them pass. The bustle of life in this neighborhood of decaying old houses was a world away from Simon’s quiet suburban street or the gated community in which he’d been raised.

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Jay had told him the neighborhood had once been purely Irish, but now the mixture of ethnicities appeared to represent the city itself. African Americans and Puerto Ricans mixed with those of European descent, and within the group of passing teens Simon noted at least one interracial couple. Perhaps he was wrong to assume Jay’s father was going to have as much trouble accepting his race as his sexual orientation. He shouldn’t automatically compare the man to his own father. Maybe everything would be cool tonight just as Jay had said. “Ready?” Jay was at his side, asking that question again and gazing into his eyes with a questioning tilt of his brows. “As I’ll ever be.” Simon followed him up the stoop to the door and inside the apartment building. His palms were sweating and his heart thumping so that he barely noticed the building around him. He had an impression of turn of the century craftsmanship in the carved trim around the doors and windows, but the paint was peeling, the floorboards warped, and a general air of tired shabbiness pervaded the old building. This was not an upscale neighborhood where the woodwork would be painstakingly restored and the antiquity of the place would become a selling point. He walked with Jay down a narrow hallway and up a flight of stairs. Jay glanced at him over his shoulder. “The elevator’s a little iffy. I always take the stairs. It’s only a couple of flights. My parents didn’t move out to the suburbs like most of their friends. Mom insists she likes the urban character of the old neighborhood.” He laughed shortly. “I keep telling her that ‘urban character’ is going to mug her one of these days. Our street isn’t as safe as it used to be, and it wasn’t that safe back then. My God, I sound just like my dad. He’s been trying to convince her to move for years.” As they reached the second floor landing and started up the next set of stairs, Jay continued to rattle on, talking faster and louder than normal. It suddenly occurred to Simon that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. God, he could be a self-centered prick sometimes. Why hadn’t he ever thought about how Jay might be feeling tonight? He’d just

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assumed Jay was as calm as he professed to be. For the first time, he saw a flash of vulnerability and uncertainty in his lover, and it touched him. “So, this is it,” Jay said as he paused in front of a scarred wooden door in a dimly lit hallway. “Not too fancy as you can see.” “Hey.” Simon reached his side and touched his arm. When Jay looked at him, he smiled and peered into his eyes. He grasped his hand and squeezed it. “It’ll be all right. Thanks for inviting me.” The sunshine of his smile flashed, and instantly the tension between them dispersed. “I know it,” Jay said, his familiar smug confidence restored. He rang the bell. A muffled jangle sounded through the door, followed a moment later by the sound of footsteps and a turning lock. Simon squared his shoulders and manufactured a smile as the door opened. Mary Moran was a short woman with pale skin and light red hair almost the color of a ripe peach. Her eyes were as blue as Jay’s and intense as they scanned Simon quickly, but the smile she flashed was also Jay’s and welcomed him even more than her words. “Simon! So pleased to meet you.” “Hello, Mrs. Moran.” He extended his hand and it engulfed hers. “Jay’s talked about you a lot. I’m looking forward to seeing your paintings.” As she ushered them inside, Simon thought it was a pretty good beginning to the evening, but then Jay’s father hadn’t come to the door to greet them, and that probably wasn’t a good sign. Jay had forewarned him that his dad was as bigoted about race as homosexuality. “What can I say? He’s a bundle of insecurities. It’s a package deal, multiple prejudices for the price of one.” “Remind me again why we’re putting ourselves and him through this ordeal then?” Simon had said.

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“There’s no growth without some pain. Besides, my mom wants to meet you, and why should she suffer because he’s the way he is?” He’d allowed Jay to bulldoze him forward, and now, here they were, entering a small living room with worn carpet and furniture, but brightly colored paintings on the walls, which brought the room to life. The man sitting in a tan recliner had Jay’s stocky, muscular build, a crisp, white crew cut, and a square face with blunt features. His eyes were a paler blue than Jay’s and glanced quickly at Simon then back at the TV screen. “Hey, Dad. This is Simon.” He gave a grunt that might have been “Hi” in response. “Brian.” Mary Moran’s tone was sharp. Her silent, “Behave!” was understood. His jaw clenched, but he put down the footrest and rose from the recliner, approaching Simon with clear reluctance and extending his hand without meeting his eyes. “Hello.” “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Moran. Jay tells me you’re in the public works department.” “Yeah.” “And close to retirement. That’ll be nice.” “Yeah.” “Brian, pour some drinks while I check on the meal.” Mary’s tone was brisk, brushing away the pall of awkwardness that hung over them. Please don’t leave! Simon wanted to beg as she left the room. But Jay took over, making conversation to fill the gaping silence. “Bar’s doing well, Dad. You should stop by. I haven’t really made any improvements yet, but I intend to. I could sure use your help with the plumbing and electrical when you have time. Once you’re retired, I’ll happily put you in charge of the whole remodeling project if you need something to do.” He laughed and Simon heard the tension in it. Brave Jay. He kept on trying no matter what. Had to admire the hell out of him for that.

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“You have plans drawn up?” Brian’s tone was brusque, but it seemed his interest was piqued. “Yeah, but not good ones. That kind of thing was always Donnie’s thing, not mine.” Jay began to talk about the repairs and facelift he wanted for the bar, and Simon was glad to fade into the background, taking a few moments to assimilate the environment while father and son talked. The living room furniture was well-used with styles dating back to the early ’80s, but Mary’s paintings were well worth a look. They were vibrant depictions of life in the city; chess players in the park, a child chasing pigeons, snarled traffic on rain-drenched streets, a shaft of sunlight piercing between two looming skyscrapers to shine on a single person walking in a crowd. It was vaguely spiritual, uplifting material, but not too trite or saccharine. “What do you think, Simon?” Jay asked, drawing his attention back to the conversation. “Sorry. I wasn’t really listening. I was admiring your mother’s work. She’s really talented.” Brian focused on Simon for the first time, as if he’d just noticed he was in the room. The compliment thawed him a little and he nearly smiled. “She’s sold a few pieces and a gallery is interested in having a show. But I’ll let her tell you all about that.” Mary returned then and sipped the wine her husband handed her as she shared her good news. “No more giving paintings to distant cousins just to have something to do with them.” She turned to Simon. “I’ve been painting for my own satisfaction for years, but it didn’t take long to run out of wall space.” The evening was turning out to be less stressful than Simon had imagined as they moved from the living room to the dining room and Jay’s mother served a hearty meat and potato stew over biscuits. Jay and Mary carried the conversation with Simon answering

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questions about his family and job. Brian didn’t speak much, but Simon got the idea he wasn’t much of a talker under any circumstances. “Your house sounds wonderful. Almost makes me want to move out to the suburbs.” She laughed. “If we can even afford a place. This apartment is rent controlled and it was always so convenient for both of our jobs. Now that Brian’s almost a retiree and we could move, it may be too late to find a reasonably priced house with a little plot of land.” Simon felt a little uncomfortable as he did whenever Jay talked about money issues or how tight things were for his family when he was growing up. Simon had never gone without anything he wanted or needed in his life. He’d attended the best schools, the elite summer camps, even enjoyed European vacations occasionally. His car and its insurance had been paid for. His parents had required him to work for “character development” his mother said, but it was an easy entry level position in his father’s firm. Even then he’d been groomed for future success and for eventually assuming control of the business. Mary’s words reminded him that he and Jay were from radically different economic backgrounds. They’d finished dessert, a pound cake with strawberries and whipped cream that left Simon feeling lethargic on top of the filling meal, when the doorbell rang. Brian went to answer it while Jay and Simon continued to help clear the table. “Just stack them in the sink. I’ll take care of it later,” Mary said, handing Simon a cup of coffee as Jay started to rinse plates and load them in the dishwasher. “Sounds like your brother’s here.” “Oh, great.” Jay turned off the tap and wiped his hands on a dishtowel. Simon noted the tension in his neck muscles and the tightening of his lips. The male voice coming from the front hall was Donnie then, the brother who’d been much more negative about Jay’s coming out. Great, indeed. “I didn’t invite him,” Mary clarified. “Sometimes he and Helen just drop by.”

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She led the way from the kitchen. Jay grabbed Simon’s arm and leaned close. “This might get a little rocky. Donnie’s not known for holding his tongue.” Simon registered the slightly raised voices of an argument before they even reached the living room where Jay’s dad, brother, and sister-in-law were standing in a cluster. “It’s not right!” The back of Donnie’s bull neck was mottled red. Above it, his red hair was shorn close like his father’s. “Hell, it’s one thing to --” “Donnie!” Helen’s voice cut across his as her gaze fell on Simon and Jay. “We should probably go home. We can visit another night.” Her hands rested on top of her swelling abdomen. Her lips were nearly as taut as Jay’s and her eyes anxious at the tangible tension in the air. Donnie turned around. His blue eyes were an exact match for his brother’s and carried the same snapping fire as Jay’s when he was angry or excited. He stared at Simon then at Jay. “Hey. Long time no see.” Jay lifted a hand as he strolled casually into the room. “I want you to meet my boyfriend, Simon.” If he could’ve melted into the floor or disappeared in a puff of smoke, Simon would’ve gladly done so. The word “boyfriend” seemed to vibrate in the air like a tangible object. He swallowed and tried to follow Jay’s lead. “Hi. How ya doing?” Donnie’s eyes narrowed and suddenly they didn’t look anything at all like Jay’s. He shook his head. “What the hell, Jay? You disrespect Mom and Dad, forcing this on them when you know it’s against everything they believe in. That’s so wrong.” “I’m not forcing anything on anybody.” Jay’s stance was confrontational, fists lightly clenched at his sides, shoulders bunching under his tight T-shirt. “Mom wanted me to come for dinner. Simon’s part of my life now. It made sense to introduce him.” Donnie spoke across him. “You can do whatever it is you have to do in the privacy of your own home, but to shove it in their faces --”

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“It’s not against everything I believe in,” Mary interrupted. “Don’t speak for me or use me as an excuse for your issues.” “I think we should go home.” Helen reached for her husband’s arm. “This isn’t the time or place for this discussion,” Brian added. “Oh, I think it is.” Donnie’s nostrils flared, and a red flush crept up from his neck and colored his cheeks. “I think it’s way past time to talk about this. Why do you feel you have to flaunt your perverted lifestyle and --” “Jesus Christ, Donnie, what the hell scares you so much that you can’t even be polite to someone I care about long enough to shake his hand? I’m not asking you to condone my being gay if you don’t believe in it, but show some basic decency and manners.” “I think we should go,” Simon said quietly. Donnie took a step closer to Jay. “Why can’t you just stay away?” “Because I’m part of this family like it or not. And you’re still my fucking brother, asshole.” “I wish I wasn’t! Christ, it’s bad enough you turning into a fag, but then you go and bring home a nigger!” Jay’s fist plowed into Donnie’s nose so fast he didn’t have time to react. Simon gasped in shock as red spurted from ruptured blood vessels, spraying across Donnie’s cheek and Jay’s knuckles. Helen screamed, her mouth and eyes wide, almost comic circles of surprise. For some reason, Simon’s attention focused on that. Donnie let out a roar of rage, covered his nose with his hands and glared at Jay over top of them. Jay pulled back his fist for another punch, and Donnie let go of his nose to curl his own hands into fists. He launched himself toward his brother and clipped Jay’s jaw, snapping his head to the side.

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Jay stumbled back then recovered and headed for Donnie again. Brian stepped between them while Mary grabbed at the nape of Jay’s shirt, hauling him backward away from his brother. “Stop it, right now!” Brian thundered. He pushed a hand against Donnie’s chest and glared into his face. The older man seemed suddenly much taller and more imposing. “That’s enough!” He turned toward Jay, straining against his mother’s restraining hands clutching his shirt. “Both of you!” Helen tugged on her husband again. “Donnie, are you all right?” “Go clean yourself up before you bleed on my carpet, then go home,” Mary ordered. She cuffed Jay on the ear. “And you, calm down.” He stopped pulling against her, but his face was still red and twisted in fury, his eyes crackling with electric blue sparks. “Oh, God,” Simon murmured, weighing the option of running for the door. The Nword barely registered; he was more humiliated by having Jay avenge his honor like he was some trembling maiden. The whole situation was painfully strange, and he wanted to be alone at home with every fiber of his being. His stomach churned. He imagined vomiting stew and pound cake all over the carpet Mary seemed bent on protecting. As Helen and Brian escorted Donnie from the room, one on either side like guards, Mary turned toward Simon. “I apologize for my boys’ behavior. These two have always fought like a pair of hooligans. That never changes.” Jay suddenly seemed to remember Simon’s presence, too. He glanced at him and shrugged. “Sorry, about all this. What can I say?” He adopted a broad, rolling brogue. “We’re fookin’ Ayrish.” For once Simon didn’t return his smile. He was too upset and shocked by the sudden violence. He’d never been in so much as a schoolyard brawl in his entire life. “I think we should leave now,” he repeated.

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Mary saw them to the door, but before they left she pulled Simon into a brief, hard hug. “I hope you can forgive my son and husband for their prejudice. Myself, I’d love to go to lunch with you boys sometime. Give me a call.” Jay waited until the door closed behind them before turning to Simon. He rubbed his jaw and offered a lopsided grin. “That went pretty well, don’t you think?” Simon wasn’t in the mood for sarcastic banter and didn’t return the smile. “Let’s just get to the car.” The narrow hallway of the building felt like it was closing in on him. He wanted to get outside as quickly as possible and started down the stairs ahead of Jay. He was still shocked over the abrupt escalation of the brothers’ argument into physical blows. But the shock was quickly turning to anger. He’d known this visit to Jay’s family was a bad idea, and he’d been proven right. By the time they reached his car, he was steaming with repressed rage. “I’m sorry.” Jay apologized again as he slid into the passenger seat next to Simon. “My brother’s a moron.” “So are you! Maybe he’s right and you should stop forcing yourself where you’re not wanted and pushing people to do what you want them to do!” Inserting the key into the ignition, Simon started the car with a roar. “Whoa! Where did that come from? Other than Donnie saying all that crap, I thought the evening went pretty well. We had a nice dinner, talked with my parents; it went pretty smoothly.” “Your dad wasn’t any happier about us being there than your brother. He was just a little more polite about it.” Simon gunned the engine and pulled away from the curb. “But he was polite. That’s all I ask for. Damn, Simon, you can’t expect people to approve of you or accept you with open arms. Some of them just won’t. Life’s tough. Big deal.” Jay’s voice grew louder. “Problem is, you’ve always had things too easy.”

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“What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Simon cut between a semi and a BMW. The Beemer’s brakes squealed. For a second, he considered perhaps he shouldn’t have started this argument while he was driving. “Everything’s been handed to you. Your parents have smoothed your way like you’re some kind of prince, so you always expect things to go perfectly. You never faced any adversity and you don’t know how to handle a little disapproval.” “I don’t know about adversity? Are you insane?” Simon shouted. “I’m a gay man in the African American community!” “So what? If no one even knows you are, where’s the hardship? At least I tell the truth to my family, instead of trying to play it both ways, hiding myself so I can continue to have their approval.” “That’s what you think I do?” Simon glanced sideways at him. Jay was facing him, eyes glittering with the same light as they had in the moments before he’d punched his brother. “That’s what I know you do. You keep making excuses not to come out, using the business as an excuse, but you know what? It’s bullshit. If you really wanted to tell them you’d just tell them and accept the consequences.” “Don’t be an ass. It’s more complicated than that. My livelihood is involved.” “Jesus, don’t give me that. What do you think your dad is going to do? Chuck you out the door of the firm the moment you tell him? And what happened to your big plan about starting your own business? You said after you landed that Zimmerman account you were finally going to make a move. That was weeks ago. I don’t see anything happening.” Simon made a hard left and headed south, weaving through traffic that was congested even late on a weekday night. “Setting up a new business takes time. I’m working on it. Besides, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been spending most of my free time with you, and when I’m at work I’m working, which doesn’t leave a whole lot of spare time for organizing a new venture and finding new clients. I can’t steal them from my father.”

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“Don’t use me as an excuse. I’m not standing in your way. Take all the time you need to get your business up and running so you can finally let go of your father’s shirttail and face him like a man. Go, do what you have to do!” The words stung like a slap. “Are you…?” Simon cut a glance toward him, catching the glint of reflected light in his narrowed eyes. “You want to stop seeing each other?” There was a long pause. Simon’s stomach lurched, the pound cake making its presence known again, and then Jay sighed. “No. Of course not. Hell, I shouldn’t even talk when I get worked up like this. I’m bound to say stupid things.” He looked out the side window. Simon gazed out the windshield, and for a moment there was silence in the car. Jay’s indrawn breath was audible in the quiet. “I guess I’m saying I’d like you to figure out what you really want, how much pressure you’re willing to take in order to be in a relationship.” Simon paused, considering the words, wondering how they’d gotten to this place in such a short conversation. “You’re asking me to make a choice -- come out or break up.” “I didn’t say that.” “It’s not just my parents, you know. It’s all the people I deal with, clients, coworkers, potential clients.” “You think I don’t know that?” Jay looked at him again. “How many regular customers do you think I lost after it became general knowledge that I was gay -- not counting Max, who seems to have either selective hearing or recall?” Simon didn’t answer. “Some of the old-timers who’d sat their stools since before Grimes took over the bar from his father fled for O’Connor’s. They were convinced The Tap would turn into a gay bar. Some of them came back after a while. Others didn’t. New people became regulars. The

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clientele shifted and changed a little, but basically people still come in for their booze as you can see. You can’t let fear of what might happen control your life.” “I don’t need a sermon. I get it. But I’m not you.” Simon had never been so glad to see the flickering neon sign for Jay’s bar in his headlights. He turned right on the side street, crawling slowly along, searching for a parking space. Finally, he double-parked next to a pickup truck and turned to Jay. “Look, I don’t really want to come up tonight, so I’ll drop you off here, okay?” Jay stared back at him. “No more talk?” “Not tonight. I’m tired. I need to be alone for a while.” Jay nodded, sat for a moment, then leaned slightly toward Simon as though going in for a good night kiss. He seemed to change his mind and turned to open the door. The cool evening breeze swept into the car, blowing away some of the heated tension. “Well, good night then. Call me.” Jay stepped from the car and closed the door behind him. Simon watched him walk up the sidewalk until he turned the corner of the building, and then he sat and stared at the empty seat beside him until a car behind him began to honk -- loud, angry squawks that interrupted his reverie. Simon put the car in gear and drove away, feeling as if he’d just navigated a minefield. Funny thing was, he didn’t know if he’d escaped unscathed or not. He felt like he might be missing a limb.

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Chapter Nine

As several days slipped past and Simon didn’t call, Jay wished he could cut out his tongue. He’d basically called Simon a spoiled prince. Why did he have to spout everything he thought and felt, and why did he imagine that his way was the right way for everyone? In that regard, he was exactly like his father and brothers. Maybe Simon could live his entire life split between a work persona and a private one. Maybe he had no more to offer to Jay than a secret passion on the side, and goddamn it, that was enough. He’d take whatever Simon was able to give and he’d tell him that -- if Simon would just call. What the fuck was he thinking, handing down some kind of ultimatum, forcing his hand? Why did he have to be so damn pushy? “You’re doing it again. Stop it!” Charlie laid down two cards and took two from the draw pile. He announced in a feminine falsetto, “When you’re with me, I feel like you’re not really with me. It’s like you’re not even thinking about me at all.” Resuming his normal voice, he added, “For God’s sake, call the guy. When you’re like this, you’re not worth spending time with.” Jay scanned his hand, almost a heart flush, discarded, and took a card. Another heart. He met Charlie’s bet and raised two.

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“Fold.” Charlie tossed down his hand and pushed the chips toward Jay. “Never thought I’d say this, buddy, but it’s more interesting at home. I’m leaving. Call your bitch and make up so you’ll be decent company again.” After Charlie left, Jay sat with the phone in his hand, staring at it, rehearsing what he’d say, how he’d apologize for being a dick and tell Simon he could have as much time as he needed to work through whatever he needed to work through. He’d invite him over, and with any luck, in a couple of hours they’d be in bed together and all this would be behind him. The phone rang, making him jump. He eagerly glanced at the caller ID. Mom. Great. “Hi,” he answered. “I forgot to call and thank you for dinner the other night. Sorry. Thanks. It was great.” “You made it memorable,” she said dryly. “You broke Donnie’s nose, you know.” “He deserved it.” “He did. But that’s not what I called about. I don’t actually want to talk to you. Is Simon around?” “Uh, no. Why? What do you want?” “He sent me the sweetest thank-you note. In it, he apologized for causing trouble in my family. I wanted to let him know he has nothing to apologize for and that I raised a bunch of baboons. Also, he had asked me to let him know if I got that gallery show, and I have.” “Really? Congratulations, Mom! When is it?” “A few months from now. So, can you pass that along to Simon or give me his number and I’ll call him myself.” Jay didn’t think he wanted his mom talking to Simon. The idea of them possibly discussing him was too weird. “I’ll let him know when I, uh, see him.” There was a pause. “Something happened. You had a fight.” “No. Why would you think that?”

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“Because you’re transparent as glass. What did you do?” “I didn’t do anything. We had an argument after we left your house. We’ll get over it. Besides, I’m not discussing this with you, of all people.” “Who better to discuss it with? That goofball, Charlie? Please.” She snorted. “Make amends, son. Life’s too short to let anger keep you apart. You should talk to your brother, too.” “What the hell? Why am I the one in the wrong here?” “I never said you were, but right and wrong don’t matter; fixing things does. That Simon is too nice to give up on.” She laughed. “And believe me, I’m working on getting Donnie to call you and apologize, too.” She was gone before he could say any more. That was one thing he liked about his mom; she didn’t linger on the phone. She was more of a plane shooting a missile -- deliver to target and leave. “Fine!” he muttered, punching in the auto-dial for Simon. The phone rang a half dozen times before going to voice mail. The message was brief, “This is Simon Chase. Please leave a message,” but even those few impersonal words made Jay’s stomach flip and his skin tingle.

Simon. The yearning that had been growing over the past few days spilled over. “H-hi,” he stammered. “This is, uh, Jay. I just wanted to say…well, really too much to leave on a message. Why don’t you call me back? Please. Anytime would be good. Okay. Hope to hear from you.” His heart was pounding by the time he finished. Damn, he hadn’t felt so nervous since he’d worked up the nerve to ask Ginnie McGee to the eighth grade formal. He’d nearly pissed his pants making that phone call. It was an unfortunate memory to recall, because Ginnie had shot him down. Hopefully, this lame message would yield better results. Jay tossed the phone aside and went to get ready for work.

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He kept the cell phone in his shirt pocket and set it to vibrate in case the bar was so loud he couldn’t hear it ring. But the entire evening passed without a call from Simon.

***** “I’m sorry, Simon. I know we’ve worked with you for years, but this is a business decision. I’m running the company now and I’m making changes. The way our fathers did things doesn’t cut it in today’s market.”

Tell me about it! Simon opened his mouth to speak, but John Hall, Jr. wasn’t finished. “It’s like your father thinks the Internet is some passing fad. I tried to explain to him the new direction I want to take, but he wasn’t at all receptive.” “I understand, John, but let me pose a proposition. The problem here is that my father has been the one directing your account all this time. You and I know each other. Let me speak frankly. As you said, both of our fathers have had trouble letting go of the past, but I’m doing everything in my power to steer Dunham and Chase into the future. If you give me a chance to personally take a hand in this, I promise you my team can come up with a marketing solution that will be everything you’re looking for.” Simon continued to play the “we’re both in the same boat” card until he had Hall commiserating about trying to effect change while his father refused to let go of the reins. “I’ve never been so happy as the day my mom convinced him it was time to move to Florida. There’s only so much interfering he can do long distance.” John chuckled. “All right, Simon. See what you can come up with and we’ll meet next week.” After he’d hung up, Simon released a long breath and massaged the tense muscles in the back of his neck. “Here we fucking go again,” he muttered, gazing out the window of his office at the overcast sky and the tall buildings that blocked his view of it. The Zimmerman crisis had been resolved and a new, almost exact repeat of it reared its head. He couldn’t keep putting out these fires and cleaning up after his father. Jay was right. Something had to change.

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The thought of Jay opened a whole other roomful of anxiety and the tendons in Simon’s neck tightened. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and listened to the message again, the warm tenor of Jay’s voice sending waves of longing through him. Although he didn’t specifically say he was sorry, the tone of the message was apologetic, hopeful, melancholy. Why the hell hadn’t he called Jay back last night? Instead, he’d listened to the message more times than he could count and imagined what he might say, playing every possible scenario over in his head. With another sigh, he put the phone away in his pocket. This wasn’t the time or place for a long, involved conversation -- maybe after work. Simon rose, slipped on his jacket, and straightened his tie then left his office and headed for his father’s. His pulse throbbed, and a dull ache formed at the base of his skull as he walked down the hall and stopped in front of the glossy wood door with the placard that read simply, “Robert P. Chase.” He squeezed his fingers into fists then shook them out before rapping on the door. “Come in.” Robert was examining the layout for the Zimmerman advertisement that would soon be splashed in magazines and on Web sites and billboards globally. An ad spot would also play on TV and the Internet. The commercial was currently being shot -- locally. Simon had formed a partnership with a Chicago-based production company and hoped to continue working with them in the future. Robert looked up when Simon entered. “You think this will sell drugs?” Simon didn’t even bother asking what specifically his father found doubtful about the ad. “I think it will sell a lot of drugs.” He sat in the chair across from him and crossed his legs, telling himself if he acted relaxed, maybe he’d begin to feel relaxed. “But I’m not here to discuss the Zimmerman campaign. I just had a call from John Hall. He’s not happy that you won’t listen to his suggestions. He wants to take his business elsewhere.” Simon listened to himself state the facts bluntly with no sugar-coating. Good God, he sounded like he was channeling Jay.

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Robert’s mouth tightened and he paused before answering. “Hall didn’t say anything like this to me last time I talked to him. What brought this on?” He glared accusingly at Simon as if he’d done something to ruffle Hall’s feathers. Simon swallowed and continued. “He came to me instead. Just like Zimmerman, he wants change and you’re not bringing it. I managed to talk him into giving us another chance, but I…I’m going to have to take over the Hall account myself and design a new campaign.” He wanted to say much more, about needing to change with the times and having an open mind about new things, but forced himself to be quiet and let the news sink in. His father wasn’t a stupid man, just stubborn. He could infer the rest for himself. Almost losing two big clients made a statement that he couldn’t ignore. Robert stared at the ad layout for long moments then rose from his chair and turned toward the window behind his desk to gaze out. His shoulders slumped. His short black hair was nearly all gray now. For the first time in a long while, Simon really looked at his father and what he saw was an old man. “Dad, I’m --” “Don’t!” He didn’t turn around. “What the client wants the client gets. Times change. Do what you have to do.” He continued to stare out the window. When Simon made no move to leave, he added, “Is that all?” “Yes.” Simon rose and started for the door. He hesitated, wanting to add something to soothe the sting his father must be feeling, but there was really nothing he could say. His step was lighter as he walked back to his office. Those few short minutes had been awful and intense, but it was rather like ripping a bandage off a wound. It felt good to have it over with and anticipation of the pain had been much worse than the actual event. Although he was sorry for his father, Simon was feeling quite good by the time he opened the door to his office. His brightened mood instantly evaporated when he found his mother waiting inside.

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“Sweetheart!” She abandoned the potted tree in the corner of the room, which she’d been misting, and crossed the office to give him a perfume-scented embrace before pulling back to look up into his face. “You’ve been avoiding me.” Simon didn’t bother trying to deny it. “You have to come to my party. I insist. This Saturday. That’s tomorrow. I’m telling you at the last minute so you don’t have time to weasel out of it. I want you to meet Janice, of course, but I’ve made it painless for you. There will be tons of people there, so it won’t be like I’m forcing you together. Instead of a dinner party, it’s now a fundraiser for the Overcoming Aids in Africa Foundation, so bring your checkbook. See, this way you can feel good about doing something for the world and meet a nice young woman, who, trust me, you’ll hit it off with. She’s a wonderful young woman and I know you’ll have a lot in common.” Simon could see his mother mentally rocking grandbabies in her arms. Before she could launch into a list of Janice Ahumibe’s accomplishments and a detailed family tree, he raised a hand to stop her flow of words. Maybe he was still riding on the high from dealing with his father so successfully and succinctly, but he suddenly found himself saying, “I’ll make you a deal.” “A deal?” One perfectly arched eyebrow lifted. “I’ll come to your party, but I’m bringing my own date.” His ears rang with the sudden surge of adrenaline in his bloodstream. Holy fuck, what was he doing? This was no way to spring his announcement on his parents, and he hadn’t even asked Jay -- hell, he hadn’t even made up with Jay yet! “A date?” Her brown eyes widened and scanned his as though searching for clues. “You’ve been seeing someone? Who? Is it someone I know? Tell me everything!”

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“No one you know. You’ll see when we get there. No more questions.” He took her arm and gently but firmly guided her to the door. “Sorry, Mother. You’re going to have to go now. I actually have work to do.” “You don’t have time for a lunch date?” “Not today. But I’ll see you Saturday. I promise.” He kissed her cheek and all but shoved her out the door and closed it behind her. He leaned against it, still clutching the knob in one hand, his heart racing as if he’d run a marathon. This was it. He was going to do it. Show them instead of tell them the truth about himself. But what if Jay wasn’t up for it? What if Jay thought it was a stupid, bad, terribly ill conceived way to come out? What if he just plain couldn’t get Saturday off? Or what if Jay was pissed at him and had called to officially break up? Well, then Simon would simply make his announcement anyway, because one way or another it was going to happen. His decision had been made. Something had clicked inside him. Mentally he’d moved to a new level and there was no going back. He was more than ready for a change.

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Chapter Ten

Simon pushed open the slightly warped door of The Tap and entered the stink of stale smoke and spilled beer, an aphrodisiac to him now. His senses tied those bar smells to Jay and made him hard, firing up the hot coals of lust in his groin. He’d attempted to call Jay a couple of times at the end of the workday, but his phone kept going to voice mail. Was it turned off? Was Jay avoiding his calls now? Simon had gone home, cleaned up and changed, then driven back into the city to the now familiar streets of Jay’s neighborhood. Better to see him face to face anyway for the things he wanted to express. The bar was nearly empty. Simon had waited until almost closing so he wouldn’t interrupt Jay at work. At first he didn’t see him anywhere in the room, just a few people at a table and a couple of women at the bar. Then Jay’s head popped into view as he straightened after doing something beneath the bar. The lights picked out golden strands in his shaggy, dirty blond hair. He wore a light gray T-shirt with the logo of some microbrewery across the front. He smiled and said something to the two women, then turned to get a bottle from the back wall. His back was as attractive as his front, and Simon savored the play of muscles in

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his arm as he reached for the bottle. Possessiveness surged through him when he noticed the two women ogling Jay’s ass, too. Mine, ladies! He strode to the bar to stake his claim. Jay turned around and saw him. His smile lit his face and made Simon want to kick himself for letting days pass without calling. What the hell had he been waiting for? He approached the bar and sat on an empty stool. “I tried to call you back. I left messages. I’m sorry I took so long.” Jay rested his arms on the bar and leaned toward him. “My phone needed recharging, so I don’t have it with me. When you didn’t call last night, I figured…well, that you weren’t going to. I’m sorry about what I said the other night. It was rude and wrong.” Simon cut a glance at the women, who weren’t even trying to hide the fact they were eavesdropping. “I can see you’re busy here, but when you get a chance, could we, uh, talk for a minute?” “I’m free now.” Jay turned to the women. “Got everything you need, ladies?” Without waiting for an answer, he walked around the end of the bar and toward Simon, taking him by the arm and leading him toward the back room. They passed the pool tables, cues from a game earlier in the evening still lying haphazardly across the green felt, and Jay opened his office door. When he flicked on the light, a bare bulb illuminated the room, which was as dingy and packed with stuff as it had been the first day Simon had seen it. In fact, a flash of déjà vu swept through him as he followed Jay into the room. But tonight was completely different than that first day. They were a couple now and knew each other intimately and deeply. Over the course of the past month they’d grown close, sharing their thoughts and feelings, loving, teasing, arguing and were about to make up after their first big fight. At least Simon hoped they were. He closed the door behind him and Jay turned to face him, pulling him into his arms and against his solid body. Oh, yes, they were definitely going to make up.

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“I was an ass. I shouldn’t have dragged you to my parents’ before you were ready, and I should’ve made an excuse and gotten you out of there the moment I knew my brother and his wife had arrived, instead of inflicting our family drama on you.” Simon spoke at the same time, their words tumbling over each other. “You were right. I’ve kept my life a secret because it was easier, because I’m not used to having to fight for what I want, but I’m ready to now. For you. I’m going to tell my parents everything and to hell with any fallout that might cause at work.” Jay’s hands rested just above Simon’s hips, gripping his shirt. He frowned. “What did you say?” “Go ahead,” Simon said simultaneously. They both laughed and the tension each had been holding onto dissipated with their shared laughter. “No. Seriously. After you,” Jay said. “If I just heard what I think I heard, your part is much more interesting.” “I’m ready to tell them, but I need your support, if you’re willing.” “Sure, if that’s what you want. What do you want me to do? Just come along with you and be introduced?” “Something like that. My mom’s throwing a fundraiser gala thing tomorrow night. I want you to go as my date.” Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? That’s what you came up with? That’s a little…drastic, isn’t it?” “Yes, and melodramatic, too. If I had a brain in my head, I’d set up a private meeting with them and introduce you then. But my mom’s insisting on me coming to her soirée and wants to push this society Muffy on me. On the spur of the moment, I told her I already have someone to bring and that’s how it played out.”

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“Very impulsive of you. Very ‘not Simon.’ I’m totally impressed.” Jay grinned and pulled his hips even closer so their groins pressed together, bulge to bulge. “Now there are just two questions. Can you get Sylvia to work for you tomorrow night, and will you be my date?” Simon smiled and gave his pelvis a little grind that made Jay inhale. “What’ll you pay me?” Jay leaned close and pressed his lips against Simon’s jaw. “I need some kind of compensation for such a big favor.” “What do you want? I’m sure we can arrange a deal.” Oh, God, how had he ever imagined he could do without this -- the playfulness, the sexy talk, and soft kisses? Only a few days apart and he was ready to tear Jay’s clothes off and fuck him right there in the office or… Visions of Jay sprawled naked on the green felt of the pool table danced in Simon’s head. “How soon can you get rid of your customers?” Simon threaded his hands through Jay’s soft hair and nuzzled his neck from collarbone to jaw. “Don’t need to. We can do it right here, right now if we hurry.” Jay’s voice was rough and his breathing ragged as he tilted his head back to allow Simon to suck on the soft pulse point in his throat. “No. I want to take my time with you tonight.” “In that case, give me fifteen minutes and I’ll have them out the door.”

***** Jay was better than his word and had the two women and the threesome at the table banished from the bar in ten minutes. Five short minutes later, they were upstairs in the tiny bedroom stripping off their clothes. Simon caressed Jay’s shoulders, the skin silky and pliant to his touch, the muscles beneath as hard as rock. He squeezed and kneaded his shoulders and upper arms lightly then let his hands drift over chiseled pecs, toying with the erect nipples, pinching and rolling

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them until Jay gasped. His hands trailed over the cut abs and came to rest on Jay’s belly, which twitched beneath his tickling fingertips. Jay licked his lips and stood very still, submitting to Simon’s touch all over his naked skin. His stomach muscles continued to ripple as Simon stroked them, past his navel and down to unbutton his fly. He pulled jeans and underwear over the narrow blades of his lover’s hips, and Jay’s erection sprang free, bobbing slightly in the air and aiming directly for Simon’s face. He took it in hand, kissed the head and licked it, tasting salt and musky cum. Too soon. He had other plans for Jay besides giving him a blowjob, so he released the rigid member. Simon traced the protruding pelvic bones and fluffed the fine, soft brown hair matting Jay’s groin. He stroked his hard thigh muscles and reached between them to fondle his sac, gazing at each detail of flesh as he touched it. Simon had already shed his clothes before he began his exploration of Jay’s body, and his cock trembled and wept with yearning. It was an uncomfortable yet pleasurable sensation, this unfulfilled desire to plunge and thrust. Or maybe it was only pleasurable because Simon knew it would be satisfied soon enough. He could stand to wait, to take his time, as he never had with any other lover. He caressed all the way down Jay’s stocky legs, over the bulging calf muscles to his feet, then stroked the tops lightly. When he glanced up, Jay was gazing down at him with eyes as sharp and bright as diamonds. His lips were parted, the lower one slightly damp from the tongue he ran over it. Simon stood up, regaining his superior height over Jay. He gazed down into his eyes, stroked his smooth cheek and the rasp of stubble on his jaw. His thumb caressed the wet lower lip and the deep bow in the upper one that bestowed an almost feminine beauty on an otherwise square, masculine face. Jay’s lips puckered as he kissed Simon’s thumb. His tongue slipped over the tip of the digit, sending waves of sensation coursing up Simon’s arm then, magically, straight down to his cock. Simon probed his thumb between those soft lips, and Jay drew it into his mouth,

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sucking lightly. Oh, God, the amazing fire that radiated out from the heat of his mouth filled Simon’s entire body until he felt like he would explode like a star. Such a simple act to create such a powerful reaction. “Turn around now.” Simon’s voice was hoarse and rough as he withdrew his thumb from Jay’s mouth, grabbed his waist, and turned him. Inclining his head, Simon kissed the nape of Jay’s neck, his lips tickled by curling hairs. He kissed his hard vertebrae, and his hands roamed over the sharp wings of Jay’s shoulder blades, the ladder of his ribcage, the smooth expanse of his back, and his nicely rounded buttocks. Simon pulled Jay’s taut cheeks apart, running his finger lightly between them and tickling the puckered rosebud that hid between them. When he wiggled the tip of his finger inside, Jay shifted and made a soft sound. “Like that?” Simon asked. Jay nodded. “Put your hands against the wall and stand with your legs apart, shoulder width,” he ordered, then watched with excitement as Jay obeyed his command, standing with his head lowered and his palms pressed against the door. The submissive position sent an erotic thrill through Simon. As he walked to the nightstand and got the tube of lubricant, Simon barely took his eyes off Jay. Simon returned to stand behind Jay, simply gazing at his body for several long moments. Jay’s skin twitched, his muscular buttocks clenched and released, and his legs trembled slightly as he waited. When Simon at last touched him, Jay gave an audible exhalation. Simon stroked his hands from shoulders to ass, all the way down Jay’s legs and back up again. He smoothed his hands the length of Jay’s arms to cover his hands with his own, fingers lying between splayed fingers. His dark skin contrasted with Jay’s lighter tan, and their arms pressed close together were a beautiful contrast of ebony and cream. Simon’s cock

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nudged into the groove of Jay’s buttocks, seemingly intent on seeking out its destination with or without Simon’s help. Simon kissed Jay’s shoulder then whispered near his ear, “I’m going to fuck you now.” Jay gave a quiet grunt and thrust his ass against him. After slicking lube the length of his shaft, Simon smoothed a cool dollop between Jay’s cheeks and massaged it into the tight little hole. Sometimes it seemed impossible such a small aperture could permit his entrance, but Jay’s anus stretched wide and then wider as Simon worked his fingers into it. He pumped them in and out, a few strokes only, before removing them and guiding his eager prick to the opening. Emitting a low groan, Simon pushed inside the incredible heat of Jay’s body. He spread the curves of Jay’s buttocks wide so he could watch every inch of his cock disappear into the narrow passage. Jay moaned and pushed back onto Simon’s cock, his legs braced in a solid stance and his fingers curled now against the wall. Simon snaked a hand around to grasp Jay’s erection and stroke it slowly in time with his thrusting. He clutched Jay’s waist with his other hand and looked down at the dark, glistening length of his shaft as he pulled it out. After pausing a moment, he buried himself deeply again with a shove and a harsh grunt. They moved together, Simon pushing forward, Jay rocking backward. As Simon massaged the turgid flesh of Jay’s cock while simultaneously fucking his ass, he felt his own pleasure and somehow imagined he felt Jay’s as well. It was as if they were one being instead of two. Sweat collected between their heated bodies and their flesh slapped together with a satisfying smack. Quiet groans, primitive grunts, and soft murmurs of appreciation were the only other sounds to disturb the silence.

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Jay took his hand from the wall and reached down to grasp Simon’s hand around his cock, guiding his speed. “Almost there,” he muttered. “Oh, God, yeah.” The words encouraged Simon to greater heights. He drove into Jay’s ass harder and faster, the friction on his cock increasing to an almost unbearable heat. When Jay moaned, “Now,” Simon’s body obeyed the cue, contracting and releasing with a shudder. Cum flowed in strong jets from his cock deep inside Jay’s body, and ecstasy burst like lights from a disco ball strobing behind his eyes. At the same time, he felt the thick cock in his grip pulsing and the warmth of Jay’s jism spilling over his hand. When he judged Jay was finished, Simon released his cock and collapsed against his lover’s back as the last waves of his own orgasm receded. The sense of unity increased as their bodies melded together with sweat and cum, and their breaths fell into sync until they were inhaling and exhaling as one man. “I love you,” Simon whispered, and his eyes shot open as he realized he’d said it aloud. Where the hell had that come from? He’d never meant to say it; the words had simply spilled from his mouth. “I love you, too.” Jay reached back to pat Simon on the ass. “But you’re killing me here. Can you get off my back?” Simon straightened and pulled his depleted cock from inside Jay. The other man pushed off the wall, standing tall, and turned to face him. Jay’s sapphire eyes probed his, leaving him no place to hide. “Did you mean what you said?” Jay asked. “’Cause I did. And I want you to know I’ve never said it before to anybody.” Simon felt heat rising to his cheeks and was glad to have a complexion that hid a blush. “I meant it, and you can believe I’ve never said or even thought anything like that before either.” Jay nodded. “Well…good.”

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“Yeah.” Simon smiled, a warm, satisfied glow spreading through him. They exchanged another smile then leaned in for a kiss and an embrace. After they finally pulled apart, they went to the bathroom and washed up, then came back to the bedroom to collapse onto Jay’s lumpy mattress and squeaking bed. Jay pulled Simon’s back against his front and wrapped an arm around him. Simon closed his eyes and relaxed into the solid heat against his back, the comforting, protecting warmth. “I’m glad you came here tonight,” Jay said. “When you didn’t call last night, I was afraid… I mean, I thought maybe you were too pissed at me because of what I said -- that thing about hanging onto your daddy’s shirttail. I didn’t mean it.” “But you were right. I’ve been treading water for a long time, using the excuse that my father needs me to keep his business running. But the truth might be that it was easier to stay in a familiar groove than make a change.” “So.” Jay’s breath puffed against his shoulder and his fingers plucked absently at Simon’s nipple. “You’re sure this party is the way to go about it? Do you really want to come out like that?” Simon paused, considering. He brushed the hairs on Jay’s forearm in first one direction then another. “I know it’s kind of a dramatic statement, but…yeah. That’s what I want to do. Settle it all with one grand gesture.” “There’s no turning back after something like that,” Jay warned, and Simon was struck by the fact that this was the same man who’d been encouraging him all along to be bold and take charge of his life. “I know that. But it’s already too late to turn back.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jay and squeezed his arm. “We’re here now. I can’t be who I was before.”

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Chapter Eleven

Jay paused in the doorway, surveying the room full of laughing, talking people. He resisted the urge to check the zipper of his fly or make sure his slightly too large shirt was still tucked in. It was one of Simon’s button-down oxfords, crisp, clean, and perfectly pressed. Jay would’ve worn the new polo and chinos he’d bought, but it turned out the party wasn’t quite that casual. It wasn’t a suit and tie event either, but looking around, he had no doubt there was a shitload of designer names represented here. Definitely not his crowd. He never wore anything that required ironing or dry cleaning. “Ready?” Simon leaned toward him, his breath brushing over Jay’s cheek. “I know it sucks that I dragged you into this.” “No problem.” Jay forced a big smile. “I’m more than ready. Introduce me.” He’d never felt so white or so blue collar in his life as he did walking into that party. Although there were a few Caucasian or Asian faces here and there, the majority of the group was African American -- the college-educated, cream of society, not the kind of blacks Jay had grown up with. Even though he’d lived in a multiracial neighborhood and attended a school with a wide ethnic mix, Jay had never been the minority race in a roomful of people, and it felt

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really strange. He hadn’t expected that. As a matter of fact, he’d been so concentrated on Simon’s parents’ possible reaction to his coming out that Jay hadn’t spared a thought for how he himself might feel at this event. “Simon! I haven’t seen you since… How long has it been? Last year at the Jacobs’ yacht party, right?” A woman with wide, dark brown eyes and a pale, coffee-colored complexion, wearing a low-cut red dress and high heels came toward them, her hands extended to take Simon’s. “God, remember when we spent practically every summer at the lake? I miss those days.” “Celia, good to see you.” Simon turned to Jay, and suddenly he was on rather than a bystander. “This is my friend, Jay.” “Hello. Pleased to meet you.” A cool, slim hand grasped his. The stones of her rings pressed into his hand, hard. “Simon and I go way back. Our parents’ lake homes were side by side, so we played together for a lot of years.” Jay thought about the value of lakefront property and realized again that he was in a whole different income bracket here. He couldn’t think of anything to say about summers on the lake, so he just smiled and nodded. “We swam and fished from the dock or the boat. Those were good times.” “Until Celia discovered jet skiing with James Witt and his friends was way cooler than catching fish with me.” Simon laughed. “What are you doing these days?” “I got my law degree…finally! I work at Dewey, Pratt, and Anderson. Corporate law.” “Ah. And how’s that going for you?” “Challenging. Lucrative.” She shrugged. “It’s a living. But my big news is this.” She held up her left hand and exhibited a sparkling diamond. “We’re going to be married in December. You must come to the wedding. It’s going to be an absolute fairy-tale, winterthemed extravaganza.” “Who’s the guy?”

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“Oh, he’s over there.” Celia pointed across the room at a tall man with a receding hairline and a goatee. “My professor. Head of the math department at Loyola. Never thought I’d marry a math geek.” She smiled fondly at her fiancé then turned back to Simon and Jay. “How about you? How long have you two been together?” There was a moment of dead silence. Celia’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God, you are a couple, aren’t you? If not, I didn’t mean to imply --” “No. I mean, yes, we’re a couple.” Simon’s voice was firm. “But kind of a new one. We’re still getting used to the idea.” She laughed. “Whew! I thought I’d put my foot in it. I mean, I always guessed you were gay, but I wasn’t sure. But tonight, I thought you guys looked like you belong together.” There was another pause before Simon said, “You always thought I was gay?” “Well…yeah. Because…” Celia shrugged. “I don’t know. Just because.” Simon chuckled and then laughed loudly, a rolling laughter that shook his body and resounded through the room. Jay glanced at him, wondering if he should get him out of there. Was this hysterics? People were starting to look over at them. Simon wiped tears from his eyes as his laughter slowly subsided. Jay and Celia, polite smiles fixed on their faces, exchanged a helpless glance. Simon exhaled and drew a shaky breath, still wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just…all that worry and angst for nothing. I could’ve told you back then and you wouldn’t even have cared.” “Um, yeah, because we live in the twenty-first century, not the nineteen-fifties. It’s not such a big deal, Simon.” Celia glanced toward her fiancé, and Jay guessed she was ready to escape this conversation. Maybe she wasn’t as comfortable as she professed to be. Simon suddenly grabbed the woman and hugged her. “Thank you. You don’t know how good it is to hear you say that.”

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Celia kissed his cheek before pulling away. She tucked a few stray strands back into her coiffure. “Nice to see you again. We’ll have to do lunch soon, and I hope you and -- Jay was it? -- can come to my wedding.” She nodded at Jay. “Good to meet you.” Jay watched the swirl of her red dress as she turned and made her way through the crowd to greet someone else. “Well, that was interesting.” “Yeah.” They gazed at the groups of people and listened to the cheerful, chattering voices and quiet background music for a moment. “Do you want a drink?” “Hell, yeah.” Simon led the way to the bar in the corner of the room and ordered a Scotch for each of them. Jay grabbed an hors d’oeuvre he couldn’t identify from the tray a passing caterer carried and popped it into his mouth before accepting the highball glass from Simon and tossing back the smooth liquor. It burned a fiery trail down his throat and settled in his stomach, radiating a relaxing glow. “Come on.” He nudged Simon’s arm. “Let’s see what other old friends we can dig up. I’m starting to get a picture of you as a kid.” Simon introduced him to a couple of coworkers, Elyse and Malcolm. As he shook their hands, Jay noticed the surreptitious glances, at each other, at Simon, at him -- connecting the dots. Simon had called him, “my friend,” but his coworkers had clearly caught the same vibe as that woman, Celia. Maybe it was simply because two hetero male friends didn’t generally attend parties like this. Or maybe, like Celia, it was something they’d wondered about for a while. At any rate, the conversation went straight to business, and Jay zoned out a little as the discussion of the Zimmerman account took center stage. He examined the room, taking in the elegant décor of Robert and Chandra Chase’s apartment overlooking Lake Michigan. The view from the balcony must be stunning. He’d like to be out there right now, inhaling a fresh breeze.

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Jay considered the two very different styles of apartment living he and Simon had grown up in. These rooms were spacious and perfectly color-coordinated, nothing like the cramped living room with mismatched furniture on which Jay and his brothers had sprawled and brawled. He couldn’t imagine a kid living here, making noise, spilling drinks, tracking in dirt, and leaving crap lying around. And no matter how you dressed it up, the place was still an apartment with no yard for a child to play in. For someone like Simon, who loved the outdoors, it must have been hard to come home after spending summers at the family’s lake cottage and be imprisoned in a high-rise all winter long. As he mused on this and half-listened to the latest development on the Zimmerman account, Jay noticed a woman across the room staring at him. She was tall with dark skin and her hair was covered by a shining gold turban. She wore some kind of caftan with an African feel to it and her eyes looked exactly like Simon’s. It had to be his mother, Chandra, and from the shocked look in her eyes, she guessed exactly who Jay was, too. For one suspended moment, they gazed into each other’s eyes. The sounds in the room seemed to fade away as Jay’s thumping heart filled his eardrums. Why was he so nervous? She wasn’t his mother. But as he watched the play of emotion in her eyes -- shock, disbelief, pain, disappointment, hurt, which he might be simply assuming -- Jay couldn’t help but feel what Simon would. His lover’s fear of losing his parents’ love and respect became Jay’s own. He felt protective of Simon, but unable to do anything to change the situation except make himself as likeable as possible. Jay smiled and nodded at Mrs. Chase. See, I’m a great guy.

Don’t worry. This isn’t as bad as you think. She set her wineglass on the nearest table and glided across the room toward them like an African queen in her green and gold robe. Jay gave Simon a little tap with a foot against his ankle to warn him, and then she was upon them. “Simon, you made it after all. I was beginning to wonder.” Chandra grasped her son’s forearms and bestowed a peck on each cheek. “And you’ve brought a guest, as promised.”

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“A date,” Simon corrected, as she stepped back and turned toward Jay. “Mother, this is Jay, my…boyfriend.” He only hesitated a second before saying the word that made it official. Her hand reached toward him and Jay took it, clasping it lightly. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Chase. I’ve heard so much about you.” “Funny, I’ve heard nothing about you before tonight.” The smile remained plastered on her face, but her voice was sugar-coated acid. Jay released her hand. Glancing past her, he noticed the two coworkers had drifted away, giving the three of them their privacy. “I didn’t know what to say,” Simon answered bluntly. “How is a person supposed to break news like this?” “Not at a party would be a good start.” Her smile slipped and a flash of anger lit her eyes. “Your father may have a heart attack.” Jay wanted to help, to say something to smooth things over, but knew it wasn’t his place. She was prepared to hate him no matter what, and anyway this was Simon’s show, his time to say all the things he’d repressed for so long. But, damn, Jay had to agree with the woman; Simon turning this into his coming out party wasn’t the best idea ever. “Where is he?” Simon looked around the room. “In his office, showing his latest acquisition to some friends.” “Ceremonial masks,” Simon explained to Jay then turned back to his mother. “I know this is hard, but it would be hard no matter how I brought it up. This is something I’ve been hiding for a long time, but now that I have someone I care about, I can’t pretend to be who you want me to be anymore. I told you to stop trying to set me up on dates, but I guess I should’ve told you why.” “You think?” Her wry tone was so like Simon’s, Jay suddenly let out a snort of laughter. He tried to turn it into a cough, but they both turned to stare at him with their matching eyes.

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“Sorry. I’m just… I guess I’m a little nervous.” But now that he’d gotten giddy, he couldn’t quit smiling. Jay bit his cheeks, trying to suppress his mirth. Inappropriate laughter was not the way to win her over. “Really. I know it’s not funny.” Her eyes narrowed and she turned back to Simon. “How did this happen? When? What did I do to…?” “Don’t even say it, Mother. It’s nothing you did. It’s just who I am.” “But…” She trailed off and glanced at Jay again. Her eyes, so bright and angry a moment before were suddenly misted with tears. “No grandchildren,” she murmured. Jay felt the strong urge to apologize for not being what she wanted him to be. There was nothing he could do to fix the grandchildren situation, unless one day he and Simon adopted. But that was taking a gigantic leap into the future. Hell, they’d barely acknowledged their feelings for each other. Still, it was sad to watch this woman’s dream crumble right in front of his eyes and to be indirectly responsible for it. Chandra inhaled deeply and shook off her emotion. “All right. Before your father comes out here and we have another public display, because you know these people are watching us right now, let’s go to his office and finish this discussion.” She turned and swept away, her gold-turbaned head raised high. People parted in front of her like waves before a ship. Jay touched Simon’s wrist. “Are you okay?” He nodded. “It’s surreal, like it’s not really happening, or at least not to me. I feel like I’m watching from the outside.” “I get that. I remember.” Jay fingered Simon’s cuff and wished he dared take his hand, but this wasn’t the time or place for that kind of display of support. Later. They’d be together later, and he’d give Simon all the comfort he could. Jay was acutely aware of guarded looks and whispered comments as they walked through the room. Simon couldn’t have made the situation more stressful for himself than

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choosing to reveal his news like this, but at least everyone in his world would know in one fell swoop. A hallway led from the living room back to the bedrooms and presumably, Mr. Chase’s office. The austere cream-colored walls were occasionally interrupted by the distorted, leering faces of ceremonial masks. Other than those lively bursts of tribal ferocity, a reserved and cool atmosphere imbued the apartment, reminding Jay more of a museum than a home. They passed several closed doors and he wondered which had been Simon’s childhood bedroom. Chandra stopped for a moment in front of the open door of her husband’s study. She looked into Simon’s face. “I really wish you’d waited until tomorrow. But it’s too late now. You’ll have to tell him before he hears it from someone else.” And that, Jay supposed, was the point of all this. Simon was ensuring that he reached a point of no return. He rested his hand at the small of Simon’s back and gave it a brief rub. When Simon looked at him, Jay smiled. “Robert, look who’s here.” Mrs. Chase entered the dark-paneled office. On the walls hung more masks, but most of these were in locked display cases. Spotlights shone on the eerie faces and Jay thought it was a pretty damn creepy collection. “Simon’s come and brought a friend with him to see your Anasazi mask.” The gray-haired couple who’d been admiring Robert Chase’s latest purchase greeted Simon and was introduced to Jay as old family friends. “This is Simon’s friend, Jay… What was your last name, dear?” “Moran.” Jay smiled and nodded. “Pleased to meet you.” Either the friends, whose names he’d already forgotten, were tired of admiring masks or they sensed something strained in Chandra’s voice. They excused themselves after exchanging greetings and left the room.

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Jay stood to the right and a few steps behind Simon. He studied the man who collected exotic masks, the astute businessman who had established his firm by willpower and acuity, the father whose opinion influenced his son’s view of himself. Mr. Chase had the same build as his son, tall and lean, but his shoulders were slightly stooped and his close-cropped hair was gray. Deep grooves marked either side of his mouth and furrowed his brow. He had turned away from his desk on which the Anasazi mask lay in order to bid their guests good-bye and greet his son. Jay glimpsed a corner of the mask lying on a piece of packing material. Robert gazed at Simon then Jay and back again. “Your friend’s interested in masks?” He sounded doubtful. “Actually, Dad, I wanted Jay to come with me tonight so I could introduce him to you.” Simon cleared his throat. “Mom wanted me to bring a date tonight. I brought Jay.” Jay offered a small smile and raised his hand. This was difficult and awkward, but somehow he doubted there would be yelling or broken noses here tonight. They weren’t that kind of a family. Mr. Chase remained perfectly motionless and silent as several long minutes ticked past. His face was expressionless, as hard to read as a mask, but his eyes were busy, weighing, calculating, taking stock of the situation. Jay swallowed, and the soft clicking sound his throat made seemed incredibly loud in the silent room. He glanced at Simon and noticed his face was a mirror image of his father’s, blank and giving nothing away. After what seemed like ten minutes but was probably only one, Simon’s father cleared his throat softly. “Well.” The single word seemed to unlock Simon’s lips. “I should have told you a long time ago, but I couldn’t. I was too afraid.”

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“Afraid of what? That I’d disown you? Throw you out of the business or out of my life?” The older man’s deep voice resonated like the voiceover in a movie trailer. “Did you think I’d cut you out of my life?” Simon hesitated. “Something like that. I sure as hell knew you wouldn’t be happy about it.” Robert folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the edge of the desk. “You were right about that. Of course I’m not happy. You know what I think about homosexuality. It’s against nature, a perversion of natural law, and I believe it’s a lifestyle choice not a genetic predisposition as the current view would have it.” “Robert…” Chandra, standing off to his left, stepped toward him. He held up his hand. “Let me finish.”

If God spoke, it would sound like that. No wonder Simon is intimidated by him, Jay thought. “The point is, I don’t condone it and I’m not pleased that you’ve chosen to indulge in it, but you’re my son. Nothing will ever change that. I certainly wouldn’t end our relationship over this.” Simon nodded. His eyes shone brightly and when he spoke his voice was hoarse. “I understand your…feelings, and I’m glad you can at least tolerate my decision.” “I don’t have much choice, do I?” He unfolded his arms and leaned his palms against the edges of the desk on either side of him. “As for the business, well, we’ll see how that goes. I wouldn’t want to lose clients over this, but these days I guess this kind of thing doesn’t matter to people anymore. And lately you seem to have a better handle on what the clients want than I do.” Simon shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His hands were still clenched at his sides and he loosened them, fanning out his fingers against the sides of his pants. “The business. I want to talk to you about that, too. I’ve been thinking for a long while of striking

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out on my own. I need to create something that’s mine, not inherited from Grandpa or you. And this seems like the right time to make that move.” Mr. Chase’s gaze dropped to the floor. His thick-framed glasses caught the light and hid his eyes for a moment. “I see.” “I know this is a lot to drop on you all at once, but both of these things have been locked inside me for so long.” Simon’s hands went to his chest as though to demonstrate. “And now I just want everything out in the open. I want to finally tell the truth about everything.” A hard knot formed in Jay’s chest and he felt his own eyes welling at the passionate plea in Simon’s voice. For God’s sake, old man, throw him a bone here. “Well --” The God-voice sounded diminished, weak, and tired. “I have to respect that, if nothing else.” He looked up, meeting Simon’s eyes again. “Although, it would’ve been nice if you’d respected your mother enough to spring this on us on some night other than her party.” He reached out and Chandra took his hand, moving close to his side. They presented a united front, a kind of passive aggressive, “We love you, but you’re totally wrong and don’t you feel guilty for hurting us?” vibe that was bound to make sensitive Simon feel like shit. Jay decided it was time for him to stop blending into the woodwork. He stepped forward, too, and grasped Simon’s hand, threading their fingers together. “I’m pleased to meet both of you despite the circumstances.” He smiled broadly at them. “Believe me, I understand your feelings. I come from a Catholic family, so I think you can guess the level of disapproval there. But I want you to know I care for Simon very much and this is no whim or experiment. It’s a real relationship and we’re both committed to making it work.” The little speech sounded so good he might have rehearsed it. Jay closed his mouth before he could ruin it by saying something that would amuse only him like, “Hey, the gay thing kind of puts the race thing into perspective, doesn’t it?”

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Even without the added flip remark, Simon’s father stared at him as if he were a bug that had gotten into the house that he was considering the best way to dispose of -- swatting or shooing out the window. Finally, he spoke. “As you can imagine, this is a lot to process.” His gaze took in their joined hands then returned to Simon. “Your mother and I are, understandably, in shock, and I think it would be best if you left now, gave us some time to adjust.” Simon’s voice was harsh and grating when he spoke. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to ruin your party any more than I already have or make a stink in front of all your friends that you can’t cover up.” “Simon! It’s not like that. For God’s sake, did you think this was going to be easy?” His mother released her husband’s hand and went to her son. She reached toward his arm then dropped her hand to her side without touching him. “Give us a little time to acclimate.” Jay squeezed Simon’s hand in more of a warning than encouragement. There was a time to push and a time to back off. This was the latter. Simon nodded. “Sorry. We’ll go now.” “Just for now it would be best,” his mother said, and this time she took his free hand in hers and held it. “I’ll call you tomorrow, all right?” He nodded. Robert didn’t add anything to what he’d already said, but stood in the background, as silent and grim as one of his masks. As Simon and Jay turned to go, Jay couldn’t stop himself. “Mr. Chase, you have some amazing pieces here. I’d love for you to show me your collection sometime.” After delivering the not-so-subtle message that he intended to stick around and become a part of their world, Jay walked from the room with Simon. He expected Simon to let go of his hand once they were in the hallway, before coming under the scrutiny of the party guests. But Simon clung tightly to him, sweaty palm to palm,

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fingers interlaced, as they strode through the crowded living room, drawing glances and whispered comments once again. Not until they’d exited the apartment and entered the elevator did he let go. Simon collapsed against the wall as the elevator doors slid closed. He exhaled loudly and his eyes closed. “I feel like my heart’s going to explode.” “It’s just adrenaline. You’ll live.” Jay leaned beside him. “Other than that, how do you feel?” “Weird. Still surreal, like ‘did this really just happen?’” His eyes opened and he stared at the light in the elevator ceiling. Jay noted that it was more ornate than any light fixture in his entire apartment. “And I feel…lighter somehow. Free.” Simon smiled and looked toward Jay. “How do you feel? I forced you to go through the fire with me.” “Told you. No problem. Hey, exactly how free do you feel? Free enough to stop this elevator and have a quickie?” Simon stared at him. “Are you serious? I just went through the most emotionally draining experience of my life and you want to have sex?” “Well, yeah. Sex is therapeutic. Everybody knows that. It’ll take the edge off all that adrenaline you’ve got built up.” Jay crossed the elevator and pressed the stop button. The elevator obeyed instantly, stopping with a jolt. Jay was in front of Simon, unfastening his belt and fly before he could say anything. He leaned in and kissed those soft lips to curtail any further protest and reached blindly for Simon’s cock inside his underwear. The warm, familiar weight filled his palm like it was meant to be there. Jay slipped his tongue between Simon’s lips and swirled it around his lover’s. He angled his head to kiss him harder, pushing his head back against the elevator wall, while between them his hand busily stroked Simon’s cock to complete erection. Releasing his mouth, Jay whispered, “Don’t you love it hot and dirty like this? No time to think. Just come fast before we get caught.” He pulled hard and rough on the thick shaft,

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wiped his thumb over the drops of precum at the tip, then slid his fist all the way down to the base and up again. “No time for a blowjob even. Just this.” The murmured words coupled with the hard tugging and the forbidden aspect of their location soon had Simon groaning and thrusting his hips. His eyes closed and his head rolled back and forth against the wall. Jay’s own erection strained inside his pants, his lust roused by his own hissing whispers. “Come for me, baby. Go ahead and let go.” “Ahh.” Simon gave a sudden, soft cry, another thrust, and just like that, he released, his cum jetting from his cock and landing on Jay’s massaging fist. Jay pulled a few more strokes, making sure he’d finished, then quickly stuffed Simon’s cock back into his pants. He pulled his shirttail from his pants and wiped his sticky fingers on it then started the elevator again, while Simon zipped up and fastened his belt. “You’re crazy. You know that?” “Distracted you, didn’t I?” Simon laughed. “You are a distraction, all right.” He grabbed Jay’s hand and pulled him into an embrace. “And the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.” Cupping the side of Jay’s face, he inclined his head and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. The elevator doors slid open, but Simon didn’t break the kiss. He didn’t even look up, as though he could care less who saw them. That’s when Jay knew they were going to be all right. Anyplace was the time and place for holding hands or kissing now.

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Chapter Twelve

Simon gazed at the painting of the cityscape and the shaft of sunlight illuminating one man walking in a crowd of people. He appreciated Mrs. Moran’s painting more every time he viewed it. Now that it had a price tag on it, he felt the need to buy it soon before someone else snapped it up from under him. He glanced around the gallery, looking for the coordinator of the show. “Looking for me?” Jay popped up by his elbow. “No. Not really, although I’m always glad to see you.” Simon slipped an arm around his waist, heedless of the Morans seeing them, and bent to kiss him lightly. “Actually, I’m looking for the curator so I can buy this painting.” Jay looked at the painting Simon had chosen. “Mom would give that to you. You don’t have to buy it.” Simon smacked the back of Jay’s head. “Idiot. The idea is to support your mother’s work. No more freebies for relatives…or almost relatives.” The curator was across the room talking to a couple in front of a painting of chess players in the park. Donnie and Helen had just arrived, baby carrier in hand, so Simon let go of Jay and stepped away. No point in poking a hornet’s nest with a stick.

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“Donnie and Helen are here,” he warned Jay. Simon had found Jay’s other brother, Ted, much easier to deal with. Like his father, Ted was silent but civil instead of combative like Donnie. “Good. I’ve hardly seen little Brian yet.” Jay started to cross the room toward them, threading his way past clusters of people. It was a strange mixture of friends and neighbors who’d probably never been inside an art gallery in their lives, and patrons who might actually spend some money tonight. “Jay!” Simon caught up with him and grabbed his arm. “Don’t start anything here of all places. Just stay out of his way tonight.” “I’m not starting anything. I just want to see my nephew.” “Jesus.” Simon sighed. Sometimes Jay could be as stubborn and childish as…well, as a child. “Hi, Helen. Donnie,” Jay greeted them, scooping Helen into a one-armed hug. “How’s the baby?” He reached down into the carrier and pulled the blanket aside to reveal a redfaced imp. The baby’s eyes were squeezed tightly closed, and his little fists were balled up on either side of his head. The kid was pretty ugly, Simon thought. Jay said, “Looks like you, Donnie,” which may have been intended as either a compliment or an insult. “Can I hold him?” Without waiting for an answer, he started to unbuckle the baby from the carrier. Donnie remained silent and watchful as Jay lifted baby Brian in his arms. “Support his neck,” Helen said. “Be careful.” “I can hold a baby without dropping it. Don’t worry.” And indeed, Jay looked quite comfortable with the now squirming bundle in his arms. The baby made a little bleating sound like a lamb, but didn’t burst out crying. Jay turned his body a little so Simon could see. “Kinda cute, isn’t he?”

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“Oh, uh, yeah.” He tried to sound sincere. Praising an infant went a long way toward gaining favor with its parents. “Very nice baby.” Donnie didn’t say anything, just kept glaring. Jay glanced at his sour-faced brother and rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Donnie, gay isn’t catching. Don’t have an aneurysm.” Simon elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Mary Moran arrived to greet her son and daughter-in-law and to take her firstborn grandchild into her arms. Her face shone with the excitement of her big night and with grandmotherly pride. She reminded Simon of his own mother, who’d recently taken up suggesting adoption to him and Jay. They’d been together six months now, and while Chandra seemed to accept Jay as part of his life, she couldn’t accept that she might never have grandbabies. “There are about a million orphans in Africa and plenty right here in the U.S. It’s something you two should think about. You’d be helping the world and enriching your own lives. Trust me, having a child in the house makes it a home.” Simon thought this was rather ironic coming from a woman who’d spent so much time at work or organizing various charities that she’d rarely had time to be a mother. Mrs. Moran held Brian up to her shoulder and rubbed his back. “There are hors d’oeuvres and wine.” She gestured toward the refreshment table. “Help yourselves. I’ll take care of Brian.” “Congratulations, Mom.” Donnie hugged her and gave her a kiss, and Helen did the same. They made a few comments about the turnout and the effective display of her work then followed her suggestion and went for refreshments. Mary turned to Jay and Simon. “They look different hanging here than they do on the walls at home,” she said, referring to the paintings. “More official somehow.”

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Simon had developed a great affection for Jay’s mother. He put an arm around her waist and hugged her. “They’re beautiful, and you’ll do great.” “Are you sure they’re not too bourgeois? I don’t feel like I really belong here.” He gave her a squeeze. “You absolutely do.” “Don’t sell yourself short, Ma,” Jay offered. Just then the curator came over and asked Mary to come and chat with the couple interested in the park painting. She started to hand the baby off to Jay again, then paused and turned to Simon. “You want to hold him.” “No. I really don’t.” But Mary ignored him and thrust the baby at him. He took the heavy bundle that shifted like a sandbag in his arms. Arms flailed and the little body twisted like it was possessed. The soft mewls turned into a thin wail. “Hey.” Simon tried to give the baby back, but Mary was walking away with the curator. He turned to Jay. “You take him. He’s starting to cry.” “Hold him up to your shoulder. Babies don’t like to lie on their backs when they’re awake. They like to be upright.” “How do you know all this?” Simon asked as he awkwardly shifted the kid up to his shoulder. “Cindy. Sometimes she suckered me into babysitting when the kids were younger and she and Charlie wanted to go out. Babies are easy as long as you keep them moving, so bounce that thing.” He nodded at Brian, who flopped like a dead fish against Simon’s shoulder. Simon jostled him up and down and the baby quieted like magic. A ripe aroma of sour milk and urine wafted to his nose. “This is great.” “Hey, look at you. A natural.” Charlie wandered over, a glass of wine in his hand. He looked over Simon’s shoulder into the baby’s face. “Damn, that’s one ugly kid, isn’t it? Looks like Donnie.”

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“Keep your voice down. Helen has keen hearing and she’s looking this way,” Jay said. “Besides, that’s my nephew you’re talking about. He’s not so bad.” He paused. “All right, he is, but I’m trying to win them over with the benevolent uncle routine.” Simon was past asking Jay why he cared about his loutish, bigoted brother’s opinion. At this point, he believed it was more a matter of winning than anything else. Jay didn’t like to back down from a challenge. “I wondered if you’d come to a poker night at my house next Sunday afternoon,” Charlie asked. He nodded at Simon. “You can bring your bitch if you want to, Jay. He’s an easy mark and he’s rich.” “Can’t make it. There’s this garden expo thing we’re going to,” Jay answered. “A garden show! Could you be any more gay?” Charlie shook his head in disgust. “Nope. I don’t think so. But I’d watch the bashing if I were you. This gay boy” -- he nodded at Simon -- “just happens to have a box at Wrigley Field. One of those deluxe, airconditioned suites that schmoes like you only dream about. You want a piece of that, you’d better show my bitch more respect.” “You know, you guys are a lot less amusing than you think you are, and here, take this thing.” Simon lifted the baby from his shoulder. Its little fingers hooked on his shirt and it took a moment to detach them and pass the kid back to Jay. He gave a sigh when he was relieved of the burden. “Seriously though, you have a box?” Charlie asked. “A family one, yeah. My grandpa was a huge baseball fan and he decided it was good for business, too, for entertaining clients. I didn’t go to a game all last summer, but maybe next year. We’ll see where I stand with my dad by then.” He was surprised at how little he cared. It would be nice to be able to share a baseball game with his father again, but if he never did, he’d be perfectly happy to sit in the stands with Jay and even Charlie.

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He’d had little contact with his dad in the past months, only one or two awkward lunches. Occasionally he’d talk to Elyse and she’d tell him things were going okay at the firm. He wouldn’t expect her to say anything else. After all, Simon was the competition now, and he guessed that fact, even more than his homosexuality, was what upset his father. Robert Chase had planned on passing the family business down to his son. What was he supposed to do with it now? Simon would always feel bad for disappointing him in that regard, but not enough to take the edge off his blissful happiness. He had everything he’d ever wanted, and things he hadn’t even known he was missing, in his life at this moment. “Hey, you okay?” Jay asked. “Yeah, perfectly. I was just wondering if my mom could help yours. Her network in this city is outrageous. I should’ve thought of it before the opening, but your mom’s exhibit will be up for a while. I think my mom can create a buzz that will really boost sales.” “That’d be great, but it wasn’t really what you were thinking about, was it?” Simon shrugged. “Tell you what. Now that I have my dad and Ted working on remodeling the bar and Donnie practically eating out of my hand, as you can see, maybe it’s time for me to go to work on your dad -- have him show me those masks like he promised.” Laughter was the only way to deal with Jay’s skewed perception of the world, so Simon shook his head and laughed. “You really are a glutton for rejection, aren’t you?” “Hey, man. ‘Rejection is simply acceptance that hasn’t ripened yet.’ Read that on a Red Zinger box.” “No you didn’t. You just made it up.” “Maybe, but it’s true, isn’t it? Patience and persistence win the race.” “You’re just chockfull of platitudes tonight.” “Kill ’em with kindness,” Jay offered.

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“Enough.” “The world’s full of possibilities, and when you feel one coming your way, you have to grab it with both hands and hang on. That’s how I landed you.” He winked and smiled, bumping the baby up and down in the crook of his arm. “Remember I told you I had a premonition that day you came into the bar? I could’ve ignored it, thought, ‘hot guy,’ served you a drink, and let it go at that, but what did I do instead?” “Dragged me into your office and attacked me.” “Seized the moment. Changed both our lives.” Simon had had enough. Sometimes Jay loved to hear himself talk way too much. “Remember the part where I said ‘no more platitudes’?” He pulled his lover to him, cupped his cheek, and covered his mouth with a long, hard kiss. When he pulled away, he murmured, “Shut up, Jay, before I ask Donnie to take you outside and punch you.” “Shutting up now. You don’t have to tell me twice. No sirree. I’m not one of those who can’t keep his mouth shut or tries to tell other people how to live their lives. Not me.” He grinned at his own sarcastic patter. Simon cut him off with another kiss.

Bonnie Dee Whether you're a fan of contemporary, paranormal or historical romance, you'll find something to enjoy among my books. My style is down to earth and my characters feel like well-known friends by the time you've finished reading. I'm interested in flawed, often damaged, people who find the fulfillment they seek in one another. For more information on my back list of books go to http://bonniedee.com