by Tara Lain
“Yes. I believe we should find one just like him for us, don’t you?” She inspected the reaction to that comment with a sly glance at Braden through her lashes.
Ian laughed. “I’m sure we can work out a cat rental program until you can find your own.” Braden gave him a panicked look. Ian glanced at Jo-Jo. “I’m Ian, by the way. I work for Lord and Kendrick sometimes, when I’m not in school. I live near here and happened to provide the main attraction on the beach today with my cat.” There. That should make him sound as harmless as possible.
It worked, because the frown on Jo-Jo’s handsome young face lightened a little. Did he know his dad was gay? Probably. “I’m Joseph. People call me Jo-Jo.”
“Glad to meet you.” They both petted the cat, which made a total of three and a cause for complete fur-person ecstasy. Mireille squealed as Anderson rolled and rubbed against all available hands.
Jo-Jo kept staring at the cat. “So, uh, do you like Frisbee?”
This was a test. “Yeah, love it.”
“Wanna play? My dad’s okay at it sometimes.”
“I want to play too.” Mireille flashed a scowl.
Ian shook his head. “The only way I could play would be if you took responsibility for Anderson. It would be a big job. I mean, he’s a big cat.”
“Oh, I can do it.”
“Well, if you want to. I mean, Frisbee is fun too.”
The look in Jo-Jo’s eyes gleamed with respect. “Hey, Mir, how about I play with Ian and Dad for a while, and then you and I can play some too if you want.”
“Okay.” She grabbed the leash from Ian’s hand and wrapped it several times around her wrist. “I’ll take really good care of him.”
Ian bounded up and followed Jo-Jo to a spot on the sand relatively free of people. Braden joined their three-person circle and they started tossing the Frisbee with numerous glances back toward Mireille. She seemed to be half burying Anderson in the sand, and the fool cat didn’t even object.
Ian hurled himself after the flying plastic disk, surrendering his body to the sand in an effort to look good—damned good.
Who you trying to impress, Carney?
Whoever’s watching.
No matter how good he tried to look, Braden looked better with no effort. His lean lankiness rippled with muscle, and he flew after the Frisbee with unselfconscious grace.
Why are you noticing?
I haven’t had sex in almost a month, and I’m not blind.
Still, when Jo-Jo cast a look between Ian and Braden, Ian focused on impressing the kid and not his dad.
After a particularly huge leap, Braden landed flat and rolled on his back, laughing. “Okay, I surrender to greater youth. You two win. Besides, Anderson will soon be mummified if I don’t intervene. Ian, doesn’t your cat have any self-protective instincts?”
“He’s putty in her hands.”
Braden walked over to Mireille and rescued Anderson. Ian and Jo-Jo threw the Frisbee a few more times, then flopped on Braden’s towels. Jo-Jo turned his head toward Braden. “Dad, why do we have to have Rat Face tonight? Why can’t I stay with Mireille?”
Braden shook his head. “Sorry. I know you’d do a great job, but until you’re old enough to drive, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you with her.”
“Aw hell, that’s two years.”
“I know. Sorry.”
Mireille crossed her arms. “No swearing ’til you’re eighteen.”
“I know. I know. So, I’m starving.”
Braden laughed. “Well, naturally. Shall we walk to Coyote?”
Mireille leaped up. “Yes, Coyote, Coyote!”
Braden grabbed her under the arms and swung her around. Man, he sure seemed to be a great dad. He smiled at Ian. “Can you join us?”
“Anderson may look like he swallowed a coyote, but they still won’t let him in.”
“Is it far to your place?”
“No. Just a few blocks.”
Mireille clapped her hands. “Good. I can brush Anderson.”
“There you go. We walk to your place, brush Anderson, leave him in the dust, and go to Coyote for lunch.”
Who knew this day could turn out so much better than it started? “Let’s go.”
Mireille carried Anderson a few feet until she started sagging under the weight. Then Jo-Jo grabbed him and slung him over a broadening shoulder. The kid looked a lot like his dad. Wide shoulders, long legs—just fairer hair and a shorter nose.
They crossed PCH at the light, getting a couple of honks for the cat oddity, and climbed the hill to Jim and Ken’s house. Ian’s house.
Braden gave a low whistle as they walked up the drive. “Great place.”
“Yeah. It was a ruin when Ken bought it, or he might not have been able to afford it. We did a lot of work on it.”
“Really great. We design places to capture this purity of line, but this is the real thing.”
“It was a project of a disciple of Frank Lloyd Wright.” He opened the door and had to smile when Braden raved. Ian walked Mireille into the laundry room and set her up with a cat comb and a towel on a chair. Anderson had short hair, but it was dense, so Ian showed her how to comb deep to get the sand out. He left her happily currying fur while he led the tour of the house.
When they got to the backyard and hot tub, Jo-Jo’s face lit up. Ian nodded. “Want to try it out while I show your dad the rest of the house?”
“Yeah.” He looked at Braden. “Is it okay?” He pulled down the top of his board shorts to show another set of trunks.
“For sure. Just keep your shorts dry so we can have lunch.”
Jo-Jo stripped off the top layer as Ian guided Braden toward the bedrooms. Ian heard a splash behind them.
Braden chuckled. “Sorry. My kids are taking over the place.”
“They’re great.”
“Thanks. This whole deal is really hard on them. I’m trying to keep things seminormal.”
“‘Deal’ meaning divorce?”
“Yeah. We’ve got some, shall we say, disagreements on custody, and I don’t want the kids worrying about that. By ‘that,’ I mean knowing about it.”
“Man, I’m sorry.”
“You’re so great with kids. You must have had younger sibs.”
“Nope. Not a one. Just Jim, who’s, like, eight years older. But who wouldn’t like your kids?” He stepped aside so Braden could peek in Ken and Jim’s master bedroom.
“This is perfect.” He looked really wistful. Must be a bitch sharing a bedroom with someone you didn’t like.
Ian led him down the hall. “This is my room.” With a king-size bed, dresser, sitting area, and en suite bath, Ian’s room offered almost the same comforts as the master. He hurried over and straightened his messy covers. “Sorry. I decided to go to the beach kind of suddenly.”
“You and Anderson?” Braden grinned.
“Yeah.”
“This is really nice. You must love it here.”
He nodded. “It’s home to me. Until I make one of my own.”
“With your boyfriend?”
His breath caught. Weirdly, he hadn’t thought of Rico in hours. “I hope so. I mean, yes. I’m happy here, and I’d love to have a home of my own—uh, someday.”
Braden gave him a glance but didn’t comment. By the time they got back to Mireille, she’d collected a pile of sand almost as big as the cat. Ian swept it up, gave Anderson some of his favorite chicken food, collected Jo-Jo, and they walked the few blocks to the popular Mexican hangout on the highway.
Since the bulk of the lunch rush had passed, they got a big table to themselves on the back deck with the ocean view and plowed into two huge bowls of salsa with a mountain of chips. Oh God, Ian didn’t even remember breakfast, and this had to be what they served in Valhalla.
Braden laughed and pointed at Ian and Jo-Jo. “When they handed out appetites, you two must have been standing in the same line.”
Ian grabbed a big chip, scooped salsa until it pra
ctically fell off, and drove it into his mouth with great dramatic flair. Jo-Jo copied him but exceeded his capacity. Mireille clapped, and Braden started handicapping the contest. One bowl of salsa vanished and the other got attacked before their fish tacos arrived. Laughing, they dug into those.
Ian swallowed and smiled at Jo-Jo. “So I hear you work for your dad too sometimes.”
“Yeah.” He shoved lettuce back in his mouth. “I’m learning CAD.”
Braden nodded. “Actually, Jo, Ian is great on CAD. Next time you come in, I’ll have you hang out with him. You can pick up some pointers.” He took a bite. “He’ll never learn if he only watches me.” His phone rang, and he held up a finger. “Excuse me.”
Ian chewed and basked in the compliment.
Beside Ian, Braden said, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I hope it’s not serious.” He frowned. “I see. So you don’t know anyone else you can send? No, I understand. Okay. Let us know when you’re feeling better. Thanks for calling.”
Jo-Jo leaned forward, waving the last of his taco. “Was that Rat Face?”
“If you mean was it Regina, yes. She’s sick and can’t come.”
“Yahoooooo!” Jo-Jo threw himself back in the chair and almost tipped it into the couple walking behind him.
Braden frowned. “Be more careful, please.”
“So I’ll stay with Mireille.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll cancel my engagement.”
“Da-ad.” He dragged it out in a whine.
“Jo-Jo.” More whine with lunch.
Ian drank the last of his iced tea. “So, uh, you have an engagement?”
“Yes. With the ad agency president for one of our clients.”
“The guy I met at Antonio’s?” The handsome, definitely gay one?
Braden nodded as he stared at the slivers of lettuce from his taco. “Sadly, I’m realizing I don’t have his cell number. I’ll have to try to track down someone who might have it.”
Jo-Jo shrugged grandly. “This can all be avoided if you just let me babysit.”
Mireille stuck her finger into a pitted black olive and bounced it around like a puppet. “Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“Why can’t Anderson babysit us?”
Braden gave her a raised eyebrow that clearly identified where she’d learned it. “Because Anderson is a cat. Cats make poor babysitters.”
“I’m sure he’d be very responsible.”
“You think he could put pizza in the oven for dinner?” Braden obviously fought a smile.
“Maybe his lack of thumbs might limit him, but Jo-Jo could help.”
“Very funny, Mireille.”
Ian pushed a chip into his mouth to cover his smile.
“But, Daddy—” She delivered the full force of her conniving charm. “I think that Mr. Carney will be looking after Anderson, and if Anderson is taking care of us, I’m sure Mr. Carney would be glad to look after us too.” She grinned, showing the space between two of her front teeth.
Ian burst into laughter, sucking salty chip into his nose, which forced him into a coughing fit that battled his giggles.
Braden leaned over and slapped Ian’s back as he thrust a glass of water into his face. “Drink this before you turn blue.”
Ian finally managed to get both coughing and howling under control. “Okay, Miss Lord. Am I to understand that you would be open to having Ian Carney and Anderson Cooper Carney as your sitters tonight?”
She clapped her hands together. “Oh yes, please.”
Braden shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t.” Ian snorted. “She did.”
“Really. I can cancel. It’s not that important.”
“Hell, I mean heck, Anderson would never forgive me if I refused.”
Jo-Jo tried to look cool, but he still grinned. “Do you like video games?”
“Yeah, but what if we did some CAD? Plus, you and Anderson are really going to be the babysitters. I’m just the emergency backup because Anderson can’t seem to pass his driver’s test.”
Mireille leaped to her feet and ran around the table to give Ian a giant hug. Okay, that was pretty cool. On the other hand, the fact that he’d just made it possible for Braden Lord to go on a date with a sexy guy gave him a weirdly sick stomach. Fuck it. It’ll keep me from staring at my phone all night. “What time should I be there?”
Chapter Five
Up close, Braden Lord’s house far outstripped the view even from the beach below. Sleek, modern, practically all glass, and built on many levels, as the hill it perched on required, the house maximized minimalism.
Jo-Jo met Ian at the door, and Mireille shrieked when she saw Anderson. The moment Anderson’s paws hit the floor, he took off, sniffing every available surface and niche.
Despite the beauty of the architecture, the furniture screamed comfort. No rock-hard, stripped-down benches here. The huge sectional invited guests not just to sit, but to wallow. Kid’s toys and games lay about, mixed with a wall of books and a stack of old DVDs that seemed to get good use.
Mireille took Ian’s hand. “Let me show you what Daddy did.” She led him to a combination laundry room service porch. “See.” A cat litter box made of what appeared to be an old roasting pan filled with sand stood in one corner. “Do you think Anderson will like it?”
Ian nodded solemnly. “You know, when I first found him, my brother and I created a litter box from an old pizza carrier and filled it with shredded napkins. Anderson was only this big.” He held up his hands a few inches apart. “But he jumped right in and knew just what to do. That’s how I realized he was such a smart cat. I think this is much grander.”
“Good. Let’s go find him and show him.”
“You know, he might find it on his own. Let’s watch and see.”
“Yes, good. So let me show you my room.”
They walked back out to the living room just as Braden emerged from the hall. Ian stopped and caught his breath. Hell, hope he didn’t hear that. But man, Vision City. Braden wore tight jeans. Ian mostly saw him in dress pants, so the denim looked purposefully casual and masculine. He’d added loafers with no socks, a tucked-in white shirt, and a leather jacket in a plum color that brought out the auburn streaks in his hair. Ian swallowed, then grinned. “I’d say that jacket hovers between business and badass.” Braden’s eyes widened as Jo-Jo’s narrowed. Shit, Ian, not in front of the kids. “Excuse me, Mireille. I mean, I love that jacket. It’s an excellent choice for a casual dinner, uh, meeting.”
Braden glanced at Jo-Jo, who seemed to have accepted Ian’s explanation. “Thanks. I had it made in Hong Kong.”
“I guess I won’t be running out to get one like it.” He laughed. As if the thing didn’t cost more than my car.
“I shouldn’t be late. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“Hey, I gotta watch my cat. Wherever he goes.”
At that moment, Anderson emerged from his smelling sessions of the bedrooms. “Merwaowr.”
Mireille squatted beside him. “Would you like to see your cat litter box, Anderson?”
Ian nodded. “I think he would.”
She walked a few steps, but Anderson didn’t follow, cocking his head inquisitively.
“Jo-Jo, would you bring Anderson, please?”
Jo-Jo approached the cat somewhat tentatively, but Anderson collapsed like a rag doll and let himself be hauled toward the laundry room with Mireille in the lead.
Ian smiled at Braden. “Good time for you to escape.”
“Yeah, thanks again.” He fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket. Man, Braden looked freaked.
“Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah, kind of. I just haven’t been on many, uh—I mean, this isn’t actually a business—”
“Date. You haven’t been on many dates with guys?”
“Yeah. I don’t know much about protocols, you know?” He laughed nervously.
Ian cocked his head. How do you say
this to your boss? “Uh, you have actually had sex, right? I mean gay sex, like with a guy?”
Braden glanced in the direction of the laundry room and lowered his voice. “A couple of times. I’m not getting any expert badges or anything.”
“Well, unless this dude is irresistible, you probably want to hold off sex until you do a little more research.” Why the hell had he said that?
“Oh, I’ve got no plans in that department.” He stared at his shoes.
“Remember, life’s what happens while we’re busy making other plans, so make sure nobody goes near you without protection. That includes oral.” Hey, this was good advice, right?
Braden glanced toward the hall, where the kid’s voices got closer. “No worries. I won’t be needing anything. Thank you. See you later. Jo-Jo has all my numbers. Would you get them from him?” He raised his voice. “Bye, kids.”
“Bye, Daddy.”
Braden escaped out the door.
Okay, what a wild place to be. He’d been the late-life kid of his parents, with no younger brothers and sisters. His early jobs never included a single kid-oriented activity. Don’t worry. Anderson’s the real babysitter. “Okay, you guys, what’s this I hear about pizza?”
Two hours later he’d prepared the frozen pie and laden it with extra cheese, as requested, and extra veggies at his own behest. The kids seemed to have given him a cool pass, because they even ate some spinach and broccoli as long as he coated it with mozzarella—just the way he liked it too. He’d gotten Mireille in her pj’s and planted her in front of her Frozen video in the study while he and Jo-Jo explored the wonders of CAD for a while, then switched to watching The Avengers on the living room TV. They lounged on the sectional with dishes of peanut butter chocolate frozen yogurt.
Jo-Jo stared at the screen, but he didn’t seem rapt with the movie. Maybe because he’d seen it fourteen times, like Ian had. “Uh, did you hear that DC Comics is gonna make Green Lantern gay?”
“No kidding? I thought his son was gay.”
“That’s in the comics. But in the movie, Lantern’s young, so no kid. Instead they made him gay.”
“That’s great.”