Once Gavin had decided he was going to have to go in to the bakery to handle a few things, Ben had managed to convince him to keep it to just a half day. He’d swung by the house on his lunch break, delivering Gavin to the bakery after he’d fed Ben something delicious for lunch. Ben grinned at the memory. Gavin really was spoiling him. But still, he worried about Gavin being on his feet for so many hours. Gavin insisted that he didn’t need the pain pills anymore—not even Tylenol—but Ben noticed that he still got that pinched look around his mouth when he spent too long on his crutches.
Ben really wished there was something he could do to help. Maybe rub out some of the ache that he knew Gavin must be feeling. Lie him down and massage his—
Ben shook his head in an attempt to clear that line of thinking and refocus on the enthusiastic monologue from Mrs. Jenkins, still playing in his ear.
Massage was definitely not something he was going to think about. He was just happy that things with Gavin hadn’t seemed awkward after the erection incident. Ben had done his best to put it out of his mind; to pretend it hadn’t happened. And Gavin had just been… Gavin. Filling Ben’s home with good food and good cheer and an easy companionship that he was loath to think of giving up.
He grimaced, realizing how selfish that sounded. Of course he was looking forward to Gavin’s foot healing, for Gavin’s sake. He certainly didn’t want him to be in pain. But, if he were honest, he also didn’t like thinking ahead to the emptiness that his life—house, he meant—would have, once Gavin returned to his own apartment. Not that Ben’s life was empty. He had good friends, a great family, work that he loved. And he and Gavin would stay friends, he was sure of it. They had a lot in common, after all, and Gavin seemed to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed Gavin’s.
Gavin definitely enjoyed his company.
Had made it clear, in fact, that he’d enjoy even more of Ben’s company, if Ben were so inclined.
Ben’s breath hitched, that thought conjuring an image he hadn’t been able to shake all week: Gavin, smiling up at him, skin flushed with desire as he leaned back on the bed with his cock visibly throbbing under the thin material of those silly cupcake boxer shorts.
Ben shifted in his seat, glad the conversation he was wrapping up with Mrs. Jenkins wasn’t face-to-face as he reached down to adjust himself. His own cock didn’t seem able to remember that he was not, in fact, gay. But he figured that could be excused by the fact that Gavin was… Gavin. Smart and funny and appealing on every level. No one could be blamed for responding, really, when a man like that showed interest.
“Ben, do you have a second?”
His father’s voice startled him, and Ben looked up with a guilty flush, as if the older man could have somehow read his thoughts.
Inappropriate thoughts about a banking customer.
About a friend.
Another man.
Ben nodded, tapping the phone at his ear to show Andrew Edwards that he was on a call, but gesturing toward the chairs on the other side of his desk in an invitation to wait. His father closed the office door, and settled into one of them with a pinched look on his face.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins,” Ben said into the phone, guilty again as he realized that he’d tuned out most of her what she’d been saying. “I’ll be sure to pass that on to Naomi, and I appreciate you taking the time to let us know you were pleased with the service she provided.”
After a few more pleasantries, he finally ended the call, turning his attention to his father after stealing another glance at the clock. He really did need to leave in a few minutes.
Andrew caught his glance and raised an eyebrow. “Late for something?”
“I need to pick Gavin up at the bakery soon.”
The week before, at family dinner, his mother had mentioned how much Ben loved her rosemary chicken. That comment had made Gavin laugh—putting his dimples on full display—as he’d pointed out the irony, given the bland chicken breast that had been a staple of Ben’s diet for so long. It had sparked a lively debate around the table about the myriad ways to keep chicken from being boring, and tonight Gavin had promised to cook one of his own favorites for the two of them—Cajun stuffed chicken breast. Ben’s mouth had watered when Gavin had described it, and he was looking forward to getting the man in the kitchen and watching him work his magic.
“Gavin is still staying with you?” Ben’s father asked with a frown. “In your… guest room?”
Ben nodded, straightening the files on his desk and logging out of his computer. “He should be with me for a couple more weeks, at least,” he said. “Getting around on his own with that broken foot would be a challenge, not to mention that there are too many stairs at his place for him to navigate safely with the crutches.”
Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose, hissing out a long breath. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Ben. John Winters was in the bank today. He asked to speak with me privately.”
“Dr. Winters?” The man was a longtime friend of his father’s, and had been a banking customer since Ben was boy. “He was the one who treated Gavin’s foot.”
“I know. That’s what he wanted to talk to me about,” Andrew said. “He had some concerns.”
Ben raised an eyebrow, not following. “About what? Gavin’s foot? It seems to be healing well, but… why would he talk to you about that, Dad?”
“No,” Andrew said, looking uncomfortable. “Not his foot.”
Ben glanced at the clock again as he stood up. He was officially out of time.
“What, then?” he asked, impatient with his father’s non-response and eager to go get Gavin.
“Did you know that your friend is gay?”
Ben clenched his jaw, sitting back down. “Yes,” he answered shortly, not bothering to disguise the irritation in his voice. “And… ?”
He knew his father was—as Andrew would label himself—“traditional” in his thinking. Which translated into subtle and not-so-subtle forms of small-mindedness and bigotry that the two of them usually managed to keep from affecting their relationship. Much.
When Ben had introduced Gavin to the rest of his family, he’d avoided advertising the other man’s sexuality in an effort to avoid just this sort of ugliness from his father. Ben’s brother’s attitude had been bad enough, but Will had wisely refrained from being a total ass. He’d even started to loosen up around Gavin recently. Still, their father was another story. Despite his shortcomings, Ben genuinely loved and respected the older man, but having to deal with his bullshit now didn’t piss him off any less for having expected it to come up at some point.
Andrew cleared his throat, holding Ben’s gaze. His discomfort with confrontation was clearly going to be overridden by the importance of whatever point he was about to make.
“Have you thought about the effect that having a gay representing us in the new promotional campaign will have on the bank?”
Ben silently counted to ten, determined not to say something he would regret, then finally settled on, “Dad, that’s insulting on so many levels that I’m not even sure how to respond.”
“Ben—”
“No,” he snapped, his visceral reaction to the censure in his father’s voice overriding his desire not to be rude. “I don’t want to hear why you think it’s a bad idea, because whatever your reasons are, you’re wrong. For one thing, Gavin is one of the bank’s best customers. He’s a successful business owner, a valued member of the local community, and now he’s also a friend—my friend, who you’ve welcomed into your home and broken bread with. But besides all of that, if you want to look at it strictly from a PR perspective, you’re asking the wrong question. Since you’re clearly implying that I not use him for the promotional campaign—which I’m not going to back down on, by the way—have you thought about the effect that discriminating against one of our own customers because he’s gay would have?”
His father shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with Ben’s outburs
t.
“Are we done, Dad?” Ben pressed.
Andrew sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I get that times are changing, Ben, but my real concern is for you, not the bank. Is it really smart to have a gay staying with you? In your home? John Winters said that… when he saw you in the hospital, he thought…”
Ben raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he waited out his father’s fumbling. He had no interest in making this easier on him.
“He thought that you and Gavin were… together,” Andrew finally said. “He thought you were a couple. A gay couple.”
Despite the sour expression on his father’s face, Ben almost smiled. The memory of Gavin slapping his ass was almost as good as the look that had appeared on Gavin’s face when Ben had teased him about it later, in the car. If it hadn’t been for the whole broken foot aspect, he’d have to call Gavin-on-medication… fun. Cute, even. Maybe a little bit sexy, if he wanted to look at it in those terms.
Andrew cleared his throat, and Ben sobered, his irritation rising again. He loved his father, but he was quickly losing patience with this conversation.
“Obviously, I told John that he was wrong,” Andrew said.
Ben’s lips tightened as he held back a response. He refused to give his father the satisfaction of agreeing. As far as he was concerned, there was no “obviously” about it. If he had been gay, Gavin would be exactly his type. Although maybe “type” didn’t really fit, because he wouldn’t want someone like Gavin, he’d want Gavin.
But that wasn’t just something one chose, it was part of who a person was.
If Ben were actually gay, he would have already known.
Wouldn’t he?
“Gavin seems like a nice enough young man, Ben,” Andrew said awkwardly, Ben’s continued silence obviously ratcheting up the older man’s discomfort. “And I know the two of you are friends—”
“‘Nice enough’?” Ben quoted back, cutting him off. “Dad, last week at dinner, the two of you were as thick as thieves. Don’t tell me you weren’t thrilled to finally find someone who wants to hear all the old banking stories about Grandpa Bax, and when Gav started talking about amortizing the start-up costs for the bakery, you looked like you’d just found your soul mate. You lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Mom adores him, and Hannah acts like she’s just found her new best friend. Gavin is a hell of a lot more than ‘nice enough.’ He’s incredible.”
“Fine, I admit it,” Andrew said, sighing. “I liked the boy. But I didn’t know—”
“Dad, don’t,” Ben cut him off in a hard voice. “Do not be an ass about this. About Gavin. Or to him. Ever. Just… don’t.”
Andrew’s hands tightened on the chair’s armrests as they locked gazes. Finally, after a tense moment, he nodded sharply. “Fine,” he said tightly. “But, and I hate to ask this, Ben… has Gavin turned you gay?”
“Jesus,” Ben muttered, losing the last of his patience. It didn’t work that way. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.”
“Ben—”
Ben shook his head as he brushed past his father.
Enough already. Just… enough.
Ben peeled off his sweaty shirt as he walked into the house, slinging it over his shoulder while he worked his shoes off. The minute he’d pulled into the driveway, Mrs. Barclay, his next door neighbor, had shanghaied him into helping her move “a couple of things”—also known as completely rearranging her living room furniture. At least, she’d tried. The woman wasn’t known for her patience, but Ben had insisted on helping Gavin carry in the stack of paperwork he’d brought home from the bakery and changing out of the suit he’d worn to work before heading over to help her. Mrs. B had punished him for the delay by changing her mind about where she wanted her solid-oak sideboard no less than four times, giving him enough of a workout that he’d finally been able to burn off the last of his irritation over the conversation with his father earlier.
“You’re a good boy, Benjamin,” she’d said, patting his cheek sweetly when he left, just like she had when he’d taken algebra from her back in middle school. “Now go on home to your young man. You don’t want to keep him waiting.”
It hadn’t been until after she’d gone back inside that the assumption behind her words had clicked. He’d thought about going back to correct her, but decided it wasn’t necessary. She certainly hadn’t seemed as bothered by the idea, and he could always set her straight the next time she decided to put him to work.
He set his shoes on the shoe rack, lining them up next to Gavin’s with a little smile. The man was the perfect houseguest, really. Either that, or he was just as naturally neat as Ben was. Whatever the reason, his tendency to put everything back in its place was just one of the many things that made living with him was easy. Better than easy, actually. Even though he knew Gavin was worried about imposing, Ben found that he enjoyed having the other man around. Enjoyed coming home to him, enjoyed waking up to find him in the kitchen, enjoyed teasing the worry lines off his face, or—better—finding ways to get those dimples to make an appearance.
“Something smells good,” Ben said, ambling into the front room to find Gavin hunched over a set of financial statements.
His brow was crinkled as he scanned the numbers and made notes on a yellow legal pad next to him, and Ben glanced at the clock, only just realizing how long he’d been gone. Clearly enough time for Gavin to start dinner and then get fully immersed in the work he’d brought home. At the moment, Gavin was alternating between chewing on the end of the pen in his hand and clicking it in a nervous motion Ben already knew him well enough to recognize as habitual.
“Hey, babe,” Gavin mumbled distractedly without looking up. “Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes. I just need to… ”
Gavin’s voice faded off as he frowned at something on the report, then quickly scribbled some calculations on the legal pad. The ridiculous nickname made Ben’s smile widen, especially because he knew Gavin didn’t realize how often he used it.
It was cute.
“Fifteen minutes is perfect,” Ben said. “I need to grab a shower first.”
Gavin’s head snapped up, his eyes roaming over Ben’s body in a quick perusal that made Ben’s cock twitch in automatic response. Something hot flared in Gavin’s eyes, but he tamped it down so quickly Ben had to wonder if he’d imagined it.
Gavin hadn’t brought up the subject of being attracted to him since Erection Night, and Ben had to wonder if that had just been a passing fancy, or maybe just a purely physical response to being touched. Which, he had to admit, would be understandable. He could easily imagine something similar happening to him, if he’d had Gavin’s hands on him that way. But that obviously wasn’t going to happen, especially if Gavin’s interest had faded.
Which—since Gavin was generally pretty open about what he was feeling—was probably the case.
Because he hadn’t mentioned it again.
Which was fine.
Was good, actually.
Ben really wasn’t sure how he’d handle it if Gavin actually were still attracted to him, because Gavin was his friend, and Ben didn’t want to lose that.
Even if he were to let himself—as Gavin had said—“explore his curiosity,” Ben already knew he wasn’t wired for more. He never had been, and even if his feelings about having Gavin in his life already felt different than past relationships, that didn’t necessarily mean Ben was going to miraculously turn into the kind of man who could give him what he deserved.
Besides, maybe his unexpected response to Gavin was just because of proximity.
Or because Ben hadn’t been with anyone since Meg had left.
Or just because they got along so well.
Or because, even if Ben wasn’t gay, there was no denying that Gavin was attractive on every level. Anyone would want him, and, for a little while at least, Ben had him. Well, had some part of him, anyway. He had this—the easy companionship that he wouldn’t want to risk losing just to expl
ore something that he wasn’t at all sure he was ready to embrace. It was one thing to defend Gavin’s sexuality to the small-minded members of his family, but it was quite another to imagine shifting his entire perception of himself, just because he’d finally found someone who made him feel… more. Ben wasn’t at all sure he was ready for that, or that he ever would be. But for now, luckily, he didn’t have to figure it out. As long as he could put up with a little sexual frustration, he could just coast along and enjoy this time with Gavin for what it was.
“How did the furniture moving go?” Gavin asked, looking back down at the paperwork in front of him.
“Mrs. B put me to work,” Ben said, transferring his shirt from his shoulder to his hands. He shifted so that it hung in front of the tell-tale bulge from his over eager cock that—thankfully—Gavin hadn’t seemed to have noticed. Jesus. It was like the thing had developed some sort of Pavlovian response to being in the same room as Gavin… which, admittedly, made the whole “putting up with a little sexual frustration” idea easier said than done. But Ben could deal. Being with Gavin was worth it. “She likes to rearrange things every few months,” he added, clearing his throat. “I think it keeps her entertained, now that she’s retired.”
“I can relate to that,” Gavin said, leaning back in his chair with an easy laugh as looked up again. This time, his eyes stayed on Ben’s, adding weight to the theory that Ben had just imagined the look he thought he’d seen earlier. Another reason to put off thinking too hard about trying to make any changes to their relationship. “I don’t quite know what to do with myself with all this downtime,” Gavin added. “I’m glad I went in to Delicious today, but honestly, I don’t think they really needed me.”
The Delicious Series: The First Volume Page 34