by T. M. Smith
Dean nodded, taking a sip of wine before speaking. “It started not long after Dusty left home. At first we moved through life in a sort of unnerving silence, barely aware of one another. I don’t know which one of us threw the first punch, so to speak, but bitching and griping at each other became a daily occurrence. I started drinking more in an attempt to escape reality, but all that did was make the arguments more volatile.”
Dean paused, taking another drink of wine. Vinnie came over with their appetizer and refilled the water glasses before making himself scarce. “Go on,” Adam prompted, reaching for the small plates and putting some tuna on each of them, handing one to Dean.
“It was never physical, mind you; I wouldn’t lay a hand on Mags, or any other woman for that matter, period. But damn, the dishes that got shattered.” Dean chuckled, picking up his fork and stabbing at the tuna. “Oh, wow, this is pretty good.
“Anyway, one night after a particularly horrible fight, I stormed out. Wound up in downtown Fort Worth at a bar and far too many drinks later, noticed a guy a few stools down watching me. It was like a switch was flipped and the part of me that had been dormant since Mags and I got married was awoken. Long story short, that was the beginning of the end.” Dean sighed, taking another bite of tuna.
“Had you ever strayed before that night?” Adam asked.
Dean shook his head, and Adam could see the truth in his eyes. “That was the first time I’d ever cheated, and trust me, the last.”
Adam had questions, but before he could voice any of them, Dean started talking again. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, face Mags the next day. Looking back though, it was what had to happen to knock some sense into both of us. When we fell in love, we were both young and naïve and before the rollercoaster stopped, we were married with a kid, the house, and two-car garage, the works.” Dean smiled and more than anything, Adam wanted to know what thought flashed in his mind right then that made him smile.
Draining his wineglass, Dean reached for the bottle and poured himself a healthy serving and topped off Adam’s glass as well. “It took a while, but eventually we were able to admit it was over and start to pick up the pieces of our lives from there. We’ll always be parents and best friends, and I’ll love her until the day I die. But we are both so much happier not being married.”
Dean laughed, smiling at Adam over the rim of his wineglass. “Okay, your turn; tell me your deepest, darkest secrets.” Before he could respond, Vinnie approached with their dinner.
~ Chapter 6 | Getting to Know You ~
“Oh my God, this is divine.” Dean groaned around a bite of steak that melted in his mouth like butter. When he looked up, he couldn’t miss the flash of desire he saw in Adam’s gaze. Pointing his fork at Adam, he pretended to glare. “All right, spill.”
Adam huffed around the piece of asparagus he was eating. Dean watched him slowly chew his food before washing it down with a sip of wine and a lick of his lips. The sultry grin told Dean that Adam knew exactly what he was doing, the effect it had on Dean. Well, two could play that game. “I was married once as well. My partner, Patrick, and I had a civil ceremony when we lived and went to school in Berkeley. He was…” Adam hesitated briefly and it was the first time Dean saw sadness in the man’s eyes. So many thoughts ran through Dean’s mind. Where was the husband, Patrick? Had they divorced? Or was this story going to end the same as Dean and Maggie’s?
“Patrick was HIV positive when we met. We were together for ten wonderful years before the disease took him from me. It’s why I decided to specialize in Infectious Disease, actually.” Adam smiled wistfully and Dean could see the tug of war between happiness and sadness—each emotion fighting for dominance.
Reaching across the table, he covered Adam’s hand with his. The sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed, but this was not the time or place to dissect that. “It’s okay, Adam. We can talk about something else. This is our first date; we can share horror stories later.”
Adam shook off the memory, his sad smile replaced by a more confident, sexy one. “You’re right, sorry.”
“No apology necessary,” Dean assured him. “Tell me about your family; your parents, do they live in South Africa year round?”
He watched Adam take the last bite of his steak and nod. He was drawn back to the man’s lips, wanting so very much to crawl over the table and kiss the living shit out of him. “They do, but they travel a lot as well.” Dean shook off his wayward thoughts when Adam’s voice pierced the veil of lust clouding his vision.
“Since they retired, Mom has started volunteer work with several organizations in and around our home in Pretoria. And Dad loves to hunt, golf, and hike—just about anything that’s adventurous. I swear, that man’s legs will still be moving in his casket.” Adam was open and carefree while talking about his parents, and Dean took notice. Family was very important to him, and he was happy to know it was equally important to Adam.
“What about your parents? Do they live in Texas as well?” Adam asked.
“They’ve both passed,” Dean responded, shaking his head.
“Oh God, Dean, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize.…We don’t have to…” Dean cut Adam off with a wave of his hand, his smile never faltering.
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago and every memory I have of them is something wonderful, so it doesn’t make me sad really, remembering them. I feel more like I’m keeping them alive in a way, talking about them,” Dean offered quickly.
“All right.” Adam was about to say more, but Vinnie appeared again.
“Let me take those plates for you. Gentlemen, would you like to see our dessert menu?”
“Yes, please,” Dean answered in his best southern-gentleman tone. Vinnie giggled briefly, covering his mouth and clearing his throat before handing Dean the dessert menu and making a fast escape.
Adam laughed out loud. “I think somebody likes you, Mr. Anderson,” he teased. Lowering the menu, Dean pretended to glare at him, which only made Adam laugh louder. Before Dean could fully appreciate this completely carefree side of Adam, Vinnie was back to take their dessert order. “We’ll have—” Dean cut Adam off with a shake of his head.
“My turn.” He winked at Adam. “We’ll have the crème brulée and mixed berries, please.”
“Of course, sir.” Vinnie smiled nervously. Feeling playful, Dean winked at him as well, pursing his lips to stop from cracking up when the young waiter’s eyes went wide and he blushed beet-red before scurrying away.
“You, sir, are wicked,” Adam teased.
“I know.” Dean waggled his eyebrows, grinning mischievously. “Anyway, like I was saying, I loved my parents and I miss them every day, but they were up there in years. My mom, Betty, was almost fifty when they adopted me; Dad was fifty-six. They’d tried for years to conceive unsuccessfully, eventually deciding to adopt. That proved to be harder than they’d expected as well since Mom had a lot of health issues. She once told me that she and Dad had decided to call it quits, figuring the difficulty with getting pregnant or adopting was a sign that they shouldn’t be parents. But then a young girl in their church got pregnant and wanted to give the baby away, but didn’t want to go the route of traditional adoption.”
Dean took a drink from his glass before continuing, loving the way Adam watched him, completely enthralled in the conversation. He couldn’t remember anyone ever paying so much attention to him when he spoke. “So, apparently, this girl and her family met with several couples at the church and she decided Betty and Nathan Anderson would be the best choice to raise her child. It was never a secret; my parents told me as soon as I was old enough to understand. I was seventeen when Dad died, heart attack, and Mom wasn’t long for this world without him. She died only a few months later.”
“Did you have any type of relationship with your birth mother?” Adam asked.
Shaking his head, Dean sighed. “Turns out it was a good thing that she decided to put me up for adoptio
n. She was an addict, battled drugs and alcohol until she OD’d a few years after I was born. Her parents moved away after that, wanted to get far away from the pain they associated with Texas.”
“What about them? Did they keep in touch or want to have a relationship with their grandson?”
Dean tried not to frown, but judging by the sad smile Adam offered him, he was unsuccessful. “No, they considered me part of that painful past. But you know, none of that even matters; I was loved and cherished and raised by the two people that were meant to raise me.”
An unspoken question hovered in the air above them, but Vinnie was back with their dessert before Adam could put it into words. The sweets were delicious and they took turns feeding each other little bites of the creamy concoction topped with berries. The bottle of wine was long gone so Adam asked for two glasses of Brut Champagne, which complimented the sweetness of their dessert perfectly. As they were leaving the restaurant, Dean glanced at his watch, surprised to see it was half past ten already.
On the walk from The Palm to the valet, he reached for Dean’s hand, twining their fingers together. Momentary worry over who might see them and what type of reaction they would have bled away when he leaned into the warm, powerful body walking beside him. Adam let go of his hand, snaking his arm around Dean’s waist, resting his hand on Dean’s hip. He wasn’t a small man by any means. Dean tipped the scale at two hundred and sixty pounds and stalked just shy of six feet tall. Adam was about the same weight but not as thick as Dean, probably because he was several inches taller. The fact that this big, brooding alpha male was walking down the street in New York with his arm wrapped around Dean without a care in the world was very appealing.
Dean had barely climbed into the vehicle and closed his door when Adam reached for him, grabbing him by the collar and jerking him halfway across the console, kissing him deeply. The kiss was so intense; he scrabbled for purchase, hands searching for anything to grab hold of to stop him from flying right out of his skin. Grasping Adam’s arms, he embraced the dominance pouring off the bigger man. Dean whimpered when Adam’s hands traveled over his collarbone, up his neck, and over his cheeks, stopping only when he held Dean in place, big hands fisted in his hair, grip strong and sure as he plundered Dean’s mouth.
Pulling back, reluctantly, Dean panted. “We…better stop.”
Adam’s chuckle was deep and raspy, sultry. “All right. But only because I refuse to fuck you the first time in my truck.”
A loud, shrill laugh filled the confined space and it took Dean a minute or two to realize that the bizarre sound came from him. “Yeah, k, ummm…” He fell back into the passenger seat and reached for the seat belt, unable to buckle with shaking hands.
Adam’s warm breath ghosted over his ear as he leaned toward Dean. “Here, let me.” Smoothly, he took the belt from Dean’s hand and buckled him in with a click. He could feel the heat on his cheeks, his nostrils flaring when Adam turned and looked him in the eyes. There was so much emotion in the deep blue pools that it took Dean by surprise. One last quick, sweet kiss and they were on their way.
Though Dean assured him he could ride the elevator up by himself, Adam insisted it was his duty to be a proper gentleman and drop Dean off exactly where he picked him up, at his apartment. “Really?” Dean rolled his eyes when Adam took his hand and lifted it to his lips.
“Yeah, really. If I kiss those lips again tonight, I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Adam responded with a wink. “Night, gorgeous,” he whispered, turning and heading back toward the elevator.
~ Chapter 7 | Sight-seeing ~
“Where are you off to today?” Dusty asked, shuffling into the kitchen half-asleep, yawning. He and Adam had spent the last couple of days together exploring the city, talking and learning more about each other along the way. His son seemed to be indifferent about Dean spending the majority of his time with Adam, but Dean wanted to include Dusty in their activities as well at some point.
“We’re taking a water taxi, whatever the fuck that is, out to the Statue of Liberty, then having lunch in Central Park. What about you and David, you want to come with us? Would do you two some good to get out of the house and it not be for work, school or doctor’s appointments,” Dean offered.
“I don’t know…” Dusty chewed on his bottom lip.
“Don’t know what, babe?” David strolled into the kitchen, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Dean and Dusty were both pleased with the progress David was making after the attack on campus. He was still jittery, nervous when he was around people he wasn’t familiar with. But overall, he was dealing with the second attack far better than he had before. Of course, what David’s brother had done to him was much worse than the incident on campus. Dean was grateful; it seemed David had more people watching out for him than they thought.
Dusty draped an arm over David’s shoulder and pulled him close, kissing him on the forehead. “Dad and Adam are going sight-seeing and Dad offered to let us join, but…” Before Dusty could finish, David perked up and clapped his hands. It was so easy to forget he was barely twenty-one sometimes.
“Oh, goody! Where to?” David asked enthusiastically.
Before Dean could respond, there was a knock at the door. As soon as he swung the door open, Adam stepped into his space, kissing him on the lips. “Hey gorgeous, you ready for that boat ride?”
“A boat ride, yay! Let me get dressed.” David squealed, hurrying toward the bedroom.
“D, baby, wait a sec,” Dusty called out to him, following his boyfriend into the bedroom.
Adam wrapped an arm around Dean, pulling him close. Dean turned and looked up at him, hoping he hadn’t screwed up by inviting the boys without talking to Adam about it first. “I hope you don’t mind; I asked if they wanted to come along. I’m sorry, I…” Adam placed a finger on Dean’s lips, silencing him mid-sentence.
“This is fine, Dean. I haven’t been on a double date since college. It’ll be fun.” Adam’s smile was bright and genuine.
Dean chortled. “I hadn’t been on a date since Ronald Reagan was president until last week, so I’ve got you beat.” He leaned up as Adam leaned down, their lips meeting for a quick, chaste kiss. Dean stepped back when a one hundred and sixty pound, blond bundle of energy bounced into the room on the balls of his feet.
Dusty followed close behind, grinning and shaking his head. “You sure about this?”
“Absolutely,” Adam answered him, opening the door and ushering everyone out of the apartment. The four of them piled into the truck, and Adam drove them down to Pier 16 at the South Street Seaport for the Water Taxi. It was a wonderful day for them all. Adam and Dusty played tour guide on the boat, each pointing out landmarks to Dean and David. When they were back on land, Adam treated them to lunch at Industry Kitchen, a restaurant that sat along the East River next to the Seaport.
“Is that the Williamsburg Bridge?” Dean asked when they were seated at a table outside.
“It is.” Adam nodded. “We have to come back here at dusk one evening for dinner. The view of the Brooklyn skyline at night is pretty spectacular.”
From there, Adam drove them to Central Park where they spent the rest of the day sight-seeing. Dean was a little surprised when Adam reached for his hand as they strolled through Literary Walk and around the Pond on the south end of the park, following closely behind Dusty and David. It’d been decades since the last time Dean had been in a relationship with another man. Back then, gay men did not show affection in public unless they wanted to risk confrontation. The world had changed drastically since the eighties, but there was still a long way to go.
He didn’t want to crowd the boys; they deserved a few moments without their undeclared chaperones. But Dean thought he saw people shooting angry looks in their direction more than once while at the park. At first, he thought it was possibly the gay thing, two young men openly showing affection for one another. However, when he and Adam held hands, no one gave them a second glance. He thoug
ht back to a conversation with Dusty the night of the attack when his son told him that there had been incidents with people that recognized David from a newspaper article, but none had ever turned violent.