by Ariel Tachna
“Oh, I can see where this is going,” Owen said with a laugh as he rolled onto his side to face Derek. Derek was glad the twilight hid the flush he could feel climbing up his neck.
“Yeah, well, we bought a case of beer because it was cheaper than going out drinking and went back to the apartment we shared because we were both single and it was less expensive to rent a two-bedroom place than to rent two one-bedroom places. We were high as kites on success, and we kept drinking and toasting and drinking and toasting, and as the evening went on, he looked better and better.”
“He is attractive,” Owen agreed.
Derek pushed up on his elbow to hover over Owen. “He’s also married, and I saw you first.”
“I said he was attractive. I didn’t say I was attracted to him,” Owen said calmly. “What happened?”
“It started out as us shooting the shit. By that time we’d both come out as bi, although I’d still mostly dated women. Thane identifies as bi, but he’d been involved with far more men than women. Anyway, it was the usual back-and-forth, only with the honesty of alcohol. I admitted I hadn’t done much more than kiss a guy. Thane came back with a comment about how receiving a blow job was pretty much the same whether it was a guy or a girl giving it to you but I was missing out if I’d never had a guy’s dick in my mouth.”
Owen let out a surprised laugh. “That was blunt.”
“What can I say? We were drunk, and he’s blunt even when he’s sober,” Derek replied. “Lots of things make sense when you’re drunk that don’t make sense when you’re sober. I told him that was bullshit, he was just angling for a blow job because he gets horny when he’s drunk. He shot back that if he was trying to get laid, he’d tell me how good it felt to take it up the ass, since fucking a tight asshole was what he liked best about sex with men or women.”
Owen choked on the sip of lemonade in his mouth. Derek patted his back until the coughing subsided. “Do you two have any secrets from each other?”
“Not many,” Derek admitted. Even now, he wouldn’t say they had secrets so much as they didn’t share everything like they used to. Thane had other people to share the minutiae of his life with. He didn’t need Derek the way he once had. “Anyway, in my drunk state, all that added up to me deciding to see if he was right and if giving a blow job was as good as getting one. Of course I told him I couldn’t compare accurately unless he returned the favor since I’d only gotten blow jobs from girls. And he might say it didn’t make any difference, but I didn’t know for sure. We ended up trading messy blow jobs and falling asleep afterward on the couch. Let me tell you, the morning after was interesting.”
“I bet,” Owen said. “But you’re still friends and business partners, so you obviously figured it out.”
“We did. We agreed we were too much like brothers for sex to be anything but awkward unless we were both drunk, and we cared too much about each other to do that to ourselves, even drunk.”
“Was Thane right about the blow jobs?” Owen asked.
“That’s what you take away from the story?” Derek said with a laugh.
Owen grinned. “I want to know what you like so when I finally get you in bed, I can make you happy.”
Not tonight, though, no matter how much Derek wanted him, because Owen’s last boyfriend had used him for sex, and Derek wouldn’t risk Owen feeling like he was doing the same. Still, he could answer Owen’s question. “He was right about part of it. I was definitely missing out before that night.”
“What wasn’t he right about?” Owen asked huskily.
Derek leaned close enough to brush Owen’s ear with his lips. “Guys give better blow jobs than girls.”
Owen shivered as he angled his head to give Derek access to his neck. “No pressure or anything.”
“No pressure at all,” Derek promised. “When—if—you decide that’s something you want to do, it’ll be perfect because it’s with you.”
“Confound it, Derek, you can’t say things like that when we’re in public.”
Derek grinned at Owen’s choice of expletive. He didn’t know what kind of family Owen had grown up in to use the expressions he did, but he found it adorable. “Why not?”
“Because it makes me want to do things that would get us both thrown in jail for public indecency,” Owen replied, “and I’m a respectable business owner. I don’t need that on my record.”
“I won’t get you arrested for public indecency,” Derek said. “Promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Owen replied, leaning even closer to Derek.
Derek rolled to his back and tucked Owen’s head against his shoulder so they were stretched out on the blanket side by side. “Let’s watch the stars come out. Then I’ll walk you home.”
“And come inside this time? I haven’t had anything to drink.”
“If I do, I’m no better than your ex,” Derek said. “I want to. You have to believe that, but I want more, and I need you to believe it too. This isn’t a Grindr hookup where sex is the goal. I want someone in my life beyond just sex. I want someone I can go to dinner with and watch movies with and hang out with. Someone I enjoy as much out of bed as I do in bed. And while I’m looking forward to finding out how compatible we are in bed, I want to find out the rest first.”
Owen lifted his head to meet Derek’s gaze through the deepening twilight. He studied Derek’s face for several moments before replying. “You really mean that.” The awe in his voice made Derek’s stomach churn at the damage Owen’s ex had left behind.
“I really do,” Derek replied. “When I make love to you the first time, I don’t want there to be any doubt in your mind that’s what I’m doing. Not fucking, not sex. Lovemaking.”
Owen subsided onto Derek’s shoulder again. “That’s worth waiting for.”
Derek only hoped the wait didn’t kill him. Nobody had ever died of blue balls, right?
Chapter Eleven
WHEN Derek walked into the shop Monday morning, Owen gave up pretending to be anything but horny as all get-out and impatient to convince Derek he believed they were building something real, but they could build it in bed just as easily as they could out in public. He couldn’t remember a weekend when he’d jerked off as many times as he had since Derek left him at his doorstep Friday night. They’d talked several times over the weekend, which only made him want Derek more—in every way possible.
“Good morning,” Owen said, insinuating himself under Derek’s arm and leaning up for a kiss. Derek always looked good, but Owen preferred him this way—dressed for work, his T-shirt pulled tight across his muscles and his cargo pants hugging his thighs perfectly. Derek gave Owen the kiss he was asking for, but he didn’t linger the way Owen would have liked. “I missed you this weekend.”
“Even though we saw each other on Friday and talked both Saturday and Sunday?” Derek asked.
“Yes,” Owen admitted freely. “I’ve gotten used to seeing you every day. What’s your schedule for this week? I don’t want to wait until next weekend for another date if we can work something out for sooner.”
“We’re hanging drywall this week,” Derek said. “It’s dusty, sweaty, nasty work, and it takes forever. Our best bet would really be this weekend, if we want to go out somewhere.”
“We don’t have to go out,” Owen said. Derek had proven he wasn’t like other guys. Staying in one night with Derek rather than going out wasn’t the same as being a dirty little secret. “Did you have something in mind?”
“I could make something for us here, and we could have dinner after I’m done for the day. If you don’t mind a bit of dust and sweat.”
Owen didn’t mind the dust and sweat. He’d grown up on a farm. He valued the signs of the kind of physical work that had given Derek the body hidden beneath his T-shirt, and this way he wouldn’t have to share Derek all sweaty and sexy with anyone else.
“I don’t make my mother’s spaghetti for just anyone,” Derek added.
That clenc
hed it. “Sounds wonderful. How soon can we do it?”
“When would be good for you? The sauce has to cook most of the day. I’m not sure you want the shop smelling of tomato sauce when it’s busy.”
“You never know. It might entice the customers to stay longer. Whatever day works best with your schedule is fine with me. Other than Tuesdays when I go to my yoga class.”
“Let’s do it Wednesday, then,” Derek suggested. “I need time to go grocery shopping, so it can’t be tonight.”
Owen thought about offering to go to the grocery for him, but he’d already thrown himself at Derek this morning. He didn’t want to push too hard.
OWEN couldn’t deny the thrill that went through him at the sight of the sacks of groceries Derek carried in on Wednesday morning. Owen cooked well enough—his mother had insisted on teaching all three of her boys a minimum of skills, even if the assumption had been that their wives would cook for them when they married—but he hadn’t had anyone cook for him since he moved out.
“What do you need?” Owen asked as Derek pulled fresh tomatoes, onions, garlic, green peppers, and more from the bags.
“A cutting board and a little pan to boil some water in so I can peel the tomatoes. I brought everything else with me,” Derek said. “I didn’t know how stocked your kitchen was, and I didn’t want to end up needing something you didn’t have.”
Owen got out the two things Derek asked for. “Can I do anything to help?”
“I wouldn’t be making you dinner if you helped,” Derek said. “It’ll take about twenty minutes now, and then it just has to simmer. I’ll come stir it occasionally, but that’s all it needs.”
“If you change your mind, I’m happy to help.” The idea that Derek would make this much of an effort—and at the first available opportunity—touched him deeply and settled any lingering fears Derek might not be in as deep as Owen was.
Derek grinned. “Taste it before you decide to try to steal the recipe. I haven’t even given it to Thane.”
“That’s because Uncle Thane can burn water,” Kit said, coming into the kitchen.
“I haven’t given it to Blake either, and he can cook,” Derek retorted. “The point isn’t whether Thane can cook, anyway. The point is he’s my oldest friend. Did you need something, Kit?”
“No, just checking if there’s anything special we need to do.”
“Yeah, start screwing the drywall to the studs, just like I told you on the way over. You just want to spy. Did Thane put you up to that?”
“Of course not,” Kit said, dancing out of Derek’s reach as he swatted at him. “It was Uncle Blake.”
“Get to work,” Derek growled, the sound hitting Owen deep in his belly. He wondered what else would make Derek sound that way.
Kit just laughed and went back downstairs. “Those boys,” Derek grumbled as he set the pan on the stove to boil and started cutting up onions.
“Are you including Blake in that moniker? Because it seems like he’s the one behind their mischief.”
“Oh, they don’t need any help from Blake to get into trouble. You’d think he’d be the disciplinarian in the family, what with being a principal and all, and he can be strict when he has to be, but he’s the biggest pushover most of the time.”
Was that what appealed to men like Thane and Derek? It hadn’t seemed so up until now. Owen reminded himself again of all the ways Derek had already proven he wasn’t like other men.
“Of course, that’s probably why Thane loves him the way he does.” Derek dropped about half the tomatoes into the pot of boiling water. “He was in the boys’ corner when no one else thought they were worth helping.”
“Sounds like quite the story,” Owen said.
“It is. Losing their father when they were babies and then their mother a few years ago was hard. They kept getting in trouble despite Thane’s best efforts, and that brought them to Blake’s attention. And the rest is history. Blake got them involved with the theater department and kept them out of trouble long enough for it to be clear they were the victims, not the instigators. And Thane fell in love.”
“Now I really want to meet him.”
“Thane has a Fourth of July picnic every year. You could come with me this year,” Derek offered over his shoulder as he fished the tomatoes out of the water and put the rest in. “It’s not a huge group. Him and Blake, me, a few of the guys we’ve worked with for years, the boys and a few of their friends. All very casual, but Blake cooks now, so it’s better food than the pizza and beer we used to have.”
“We’ll be closed on the Fourth, so that would probably work,” Owen said. He liked the idea of getting to know Derek’s friends.
Derek gave him a big smile as he dropped most of the now peeled tomatoes into a blender and pureed them. The intimacy of standing in his kitchen with Derek while he cooked hit Owen with a visceral impact he wasn’t expecting and didn’t know how to handle. He wanted this too badly. “I… should go make sure the store is ready to open.”
“Of course,” Derek replied easily. “I know you have to work today too. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get this on the stove and then go help the boys downstairs. I’ll see you for dinner, if not before.”
“WHAT’S that I smell?” Mel asked when she came in for her shift around noon. “It smells amazing.”
Owen had to agree. He’d resisted the urge to go back in and check on Derek and the sauce multiple times over the morning. “My dinner.”
Mel looked at him suspiciously. “I know you can cook, but I also know you never do during your shift, so tell me another one.”
“I said it was my dinner,” Owen replied. “I didn’t say I was the one making it.”
“Oooh, he’s cooking for you?” Mel said, not quite a squeal but sharp enough to make Owen wince.
“Yes, Derek is cooking. His mother’s spaghetti recipe. Apparently it’s a family secret he hasn’t even shared with his best friend,” Owen admitted.
“He’s got it bad for you if he’s cooking on a workday,” Mel said with a grin. “I like that in a man, although you have to be careful with the really good-looking ones. They can be selfish in bed.”
Owen had high hopes of finding out tonight what kind of lover Derek was, but he wasn’t going to tell Mel that. “He’s been a perfect gentleman. And it’s not like he’s the vain, selfish type in any other aspect of his life.”
“True. If he were, he wouldn’t have the patience he does with those boys.”
Owen smiled again as he thought about the way Kit and Phillip teased Derek and the way Derek gave as good as he got. No, selfish wasn’t a word Owen would use to describe Derek. That wasn’t the problem, though. He’d fallen into his relationship with Leroy in a matter of days after they met, and look how that had ended. He didn’t want to make the same mistake again, because he already knew losing Derek would be far worse than breaking up with Leroy had been. Starting any relationship was hard enough with his father’s rants still ringing in his ears. Adding the few weeks he and Derek had known each other to the mix only complicated things further. No matter how perfect Derek seemed. “Am I doing the right thing, getting involved with someone so soon after we’ve met? I don’t want him to feel rushed into anything.”
“It’s been almost a year since you got rid of the jerk, Owen. Long enough for this to not be a rebound thing, if you’re concerned.”
Owen shook his head. That was one concern not on his list.
“Derek is a good man. Seriously, you don’t pass up someone like him. You just don’t. If you’re worried about him feeling rushed, talk to him about it. I don’t see him as the type to be pushed into anything, but it never hurts to ask. Plus, it’ll let him know you’re serious.”
Mel’s words coincided with Owen’s own feelings enough to reassure him. She was a much better judge of character than he was, as proven by her spot-on first assessments of other guys he’d dated. If she had doubts about Derek, she’d tell Owen, and she hadn’t.
All that was left was to tell Derek about his family, because if they were in this for the long haul like he hoped, Derek needed to understand before things got any more serious. He’d tell Derek at dinner, and if he didn’t run for the hills like any sane person would, Owen would take him to bed after they ate.
Chapter Twelve
DEREK scraped the last of the drywall compound off the putty knife and dropped it back into his toolbox. He wiped his hands and stripped off his sweaty, mud-speckled T-shirt. Using it as a washcloth, he cleaned up as best he could over the utility sink in the basement. The spritz of Old Spice he applied would hopefully counterbalance the sweat from the day. He pulled on a clean shirt and went upstairs to see if Owen was about ready to eat. He still had to cook the pasta, but that wouldn’t take long, and he didn’t want it to sit.
When he didn’t see Owen in the kitchen, he stepped out into the front of the store, only to find Blake standing there next to Owen.
“Oh, there you are, Derek,” Blake said. “Kit and Phillip said you were done. I told Thane I’d pick them up since he’s still tied up at the apartment complex. I will be so glad when that project is done. It would be nice to see my husband occasionally.”
Thane had made the same complaint more than once since he’d started the apartment rehab, so Derek was mostly inclined to accept Blake’s explanation for being there. Except he recognized that twinkle in Blake’s eyes. It never boded well for the recipient. Derek fully expected to undergo a round of teasing questions the next time he had dinner at their house.
“I’ll leave you and Owen to your dinner,” Blake said with a wink. Oh yeah, he’d definitely come to check Owen out as much as to pick up the boys. Derek wanted to be annoyed, but the flush of warmth that always accompanied Blake including Derek in his circle of “family” won out. Still, he narrowed his eyes at Blake because it was just as expected as Blake’s wink. Blake just chuckled as he left the store.