by T. M. Smith
There was another memory made in the water that stood out among the rest: the night Frank realized Taylor was becoming a man. He’d been swimming, well, skinny dipping actually, naked as a jaybird when that sinking feeling of being watched washed over his skin. Turning back toward the beach, Frank recognized Taylor’s long, lean frame and swam back to shore, quickly grabbing his trunks and slipping them on. Shrouded in the darkness of night, Frank didn’t see the look of pure lust in Taylor’s eyes until he was close enough to reach out and touch him.
Thinking about the way Taylor had looked at him on Saturday when Frank walked up the stairs to his apartment brought the memory of that night so many years ago back to the forefront of his mind. And if Frank were honest with himself, the dynamic between him and Taylor changed that night on the beach. Oh, Frank had tried to convince himself that the lingering stares and subtle touches from Taylor were just his imagination, wishful thinking.
Tipping his head back, Frank stared up at the stars. “I’m ten years older than him.…He deserves better, deserves more.” There was a truth to his words; the age difference was a concern, but his heart and mind were of different opinions. One erred on the side of caution. His heart, however, needed to know how Taylor felt. In that moment, staring at the lighthouse across from him, Frank decided it was time to let the next rose fall and see where the petals landed.
Chapter Fourteen
Taylor
The airport at the Vineyard was small and easily navigated, the entire building not much bigger than a large home, and it never took more than fifteen minutes to make it from the plane to the parking lot. Frank was waiting for them when they exited the air-conditioned building, the warm breeze and smell of salt water that hit Taylor as soon as the doors opened both familiar and comforting. Frank looked good in the blue polo, well-worn tan cargo shorts, flip-flops, and aviators he had on. Taylor knew that if he weren’t wearing the sunglasses he’d be able to see how the blue in the shirt brought out the blue in his eyes.
The man in question pulled the passenger side door of the Honda CR-V open for Valerie, sweeping his arm out to the left dramatically. “Your chariot awaits, my queen.”
Taylor and his dad both smiled wide when Valerie busted out laughing, swatting Frank on the arm as she climbed into the vehicle. Frank took her bags and closed the door, walking past Taylor to the back and popping the rear door. “I got this.” He took his dad’s bag and followed Frank, tossing everything into the vehicle and stepping back so Frank could close the trunk.
Before he could take one step away from him, Taylor reached for Frank’s arm to stop him. “Hey, can we talk later, alone?”
Frank shuddered and even if Taylor hadn’t seen the almost imperceptible movement, he would have felt it since he still held on to Frank’s arm. He wished the man wasn’t wearing those goddamn aviators. If he could just see Frank’s eyes, he would probably already know the answer to any question he could ask. Frank’s emotions could easily be seen in the depth of his eyes. Taylor had learned that little secret the summer he turned eighteen after catching Frank daydreaming in the Mustang. The way Frank looked at him as he climbed out of the car, shoving his way past Taylor and quickly sliding his sunglasses back on. But Taylor had seen the flash of interest that Frank thought to hide behind the mirrored lenses.
The memory of that look, as brief as it was, sparked a fire inside Taylor that no one else could extinguish. When Frank pulled away from him, Taylor’s fingers itched to touch him again, so he shoved them into the pockets of his jeans. How long had they been standing there? Likely less than a minute but it felt like an eternity before Frank responded. “Yeah, I’d like that. It’s been too long since we sat on the beach talking and watching the sun set.”
Unable to resist and so wanting to see Frank’s reaction, Taylor grinned and said, “It’s a date then,” biting down on his bottom lip to stop from laughing when Frank froze, hand on the door latch. He quickly shook it off and they both climbed in. Valerie turned sideways in her seat, pushing her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose so that Taylor could see the wink she gave him before she turned around, facing the road again. He thought his face might split in two, his grin was so wide.
On the drive back, Frank and Valerie made plans for sailing and dinner the following day while Taylor stared out the window, not really seeing anything. His mind was already on the beach with Frank, rehearsing what he would say once they were alone. It would be the perfect setting as well; moonlight and stars in the night sky would be the backdrop for their first kiss. And by God, he was going to get a taste of Frank’s lips before the day ended if he had to tie the man up to do so. Thoughts of him and Frank alone in the dark with rope had Taylor half-hard in an instant, so he focused on the conversation between his parents and Frank once again and that helped alleviate the situation.
~
Hubert was sitting on the back porch with a pitcher of lemonade and four empty glasses when they arrived, his legs up on the ottoman as he sipped from his full glass. “I’d stand up and greet you, but I’m old and tired and my ass seems to be stuck to the chair,” he joked.
“Oh, you’re fine,” Valerie assured him, going over to where he sat and bending down to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Is the salmon in the fridge?” she asked, glancing at her watch as she headed into the kitchen.
“Yep.” Frank stretched out on the couch, kicking his flip-flops off and reaching for the pitcher and a glass.
“I’m going to go get dinner started then; it’s getting late and I want to get to bed at a decent hour since we’ll be up early to sail.” Charles held the screen door open for her, following behind, the door swinging shut with a bang. Taylor loved that bang, the sharpness mixing with the crisp, clean air and the sound of the water roiling on the beach. The door to the locker room back in Austin slammed shut with a similar sound and it always made him stop, sit back and smile, made him think of home. Yes, his home was back in Dallas in Highland Village with Valerie and Charles. But Martha’s Vineyard was home too.
“You okay?” Frank leaned into him.
Taylor turned toward him, their faces mere inches apart, and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to kiss the man. Damn Frank and that smile and those beautiful blue eyes. “Y…yeah, fine, why?” Taylor finally managed to string two words together for a response, though his voice was pitched and throaty.
One corner of Frank’s mouth lifted, his eyes dancing with mirth. Taylor grinned, cocking his head to the side and watching, waiting to see what Frank would do or say. He was already so attuned to the man that he knew the instant Frank’s mood shifted. His posture stiffened and that cocky lopsided grin fell away, but it was those goddamn expressive eyes that said it all. One second they were light and airy like the sky on a breezy summer day, then the next they were gray and cloudy like an oncoming storm. Before Taylor could ask the question, a familiar voice answered it for him.
“Hey Hubert, Charlie, beautiful day, isn’t it?” Billy-fucking-Scranton.
Frank stood abruptly, and Taylor reached for his hand but he was already too far away. “I’m gonna go help Val with dinner,” he muttered. This time when the screen door slammed shut, Taylor jerked involuntarily.
Billy plopped down onto the couch beside him, the cushion likely still holding some of Frank’s body heat. “Hey gorgeous, my grandparents are handing over the keys to the boat tomorrow and I’m heading out with some of the guys from Edgartown. You should join us; it’ll be fun.”
When Billy reached for his hand, Taylor lifted his, running his fingers through his hair. “Can’t, we’re all going sailing tomorrow, early.” He tried to shrug but his shoulders felt stiff. Billy looked properly dejected, bottom lip poking out for posterity. It wasn’t his fault, really, Taylor realized. He’d have to take a few minutes to have a heart-to-heart with the guy and make sure he understood that whatever it was Billy was hoping for wasn’t in the cards.
He looked up when he heard his mom c
all his name; never had he been so happy to see her. “Taylor, sweetie, can you come help me in the kitchen?” Her eyes darted to the young man beside him. “Oh, Billy, I didn’t know you were already here. I’d invite you to supper, but I wasn’t expecting company so there’s not nearly enough to go around. Some other time, though.” She turned and went back into the house.
Thank you, Mom! Taylor gave her a silent shout-out, standing and stepping around the table as Billy stood as well. “I guess I’ll see you later then.” Taylor smiled and nodded; with a wave, Billy was walking back to his house.
“Thank you for that.” Taylor stepped into the kitchen and made a beeline for the fridge, grabbing an ice-cold beer. “Where’s Frank?”
Valerie looked over her shoulder toward the stairs that led up to the second floor. “Said he wanted to wash up before dinner. When are you going to talk to him, Taylor?”
“Tonight after dinner; we spoke briefly at the airport.” He took a swig of beer, leaning back against the cabinet. Taylor watched his mom stir the pot of rice with one hand while she flipped the pieces of salmon she was steaming in a pan with the other. “Need help with anything?”
She waved him off. “No, I was just throwing you a life raft. You looked like you were drowning out there.”
“Ha, ha,” he quipped, picking up a slice of lemon from the cutting board and tossing it at his mom.
“Taylor George Langford!” She bristled, grabbing a wooden spoon from the white porcelain utensil holder and turning, advancing on him. “You’re gonna pay for that.” She tried to sound perturbed, but the smirk she wore gave her away.
He jumped back just as she swung the spoon toward him, barely missing him as he darted away. “Gotta be faster than that, Mom.” He egged her on, moving quickly and putting the island between them.
Hand on her hip, Valerie pointed the wooden utensil at her son and attempted to glare at him. “You just wait.” Taylor laughed, taking a few steps back and walking right into someone. “Get him, Frank, hold him still.” Valerie came around the island with a gleam in her eyes, smacking him on the thigh as soon as he was within reach. Taylor snatched the spoon out of her hand and held it above his head. Since he had several inches on both of them, it was easy enough to hold it out of arms’ reach.
And that’s where Hubert and Charles found them, in the corner of the kitchen, Valerie climbing onto a chair to try and regain control of the spoon, the three of them laughing like hyenas and acting like damn fools. His leg still stung where she’d gotten one good hit in as they sat down for dinner, plates full of salad, rice, and salmon that had inadvertently been blackened.
Chapter Fifteen
Frank
It was the thing Frank feared most about even considering a deeper, more personal relationship with Taylor: the age difference. Picking them up at the airport, the smile on Taylor’s face, asking if they could talk alone, that cheesy “it’s a date” comeback; everything strengthened Frank’s resolve to be open and honest with Taylor about his feelings. Even if he wasn’t quite certain what those feelings were yet, not completely. This could all be just some instinctive, sexual attraction, though definitely a mutual one. So he agreed and looked forward to it, if he were honest. He and Taylor had been through too much over the past ten years to simply walk out of one another’s lives entirely. It was the not knowing—thinking Taylor wanted something more than mere friendship and knowing were two different variables.
And then Billy Scranton showed up and dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over Frank’s head, sending him soaring back to reality. The cute blond that spent summers at the cottage next door with his grandparents had been Taylor’s first crush, first kiss, and if Frank were right, he’d also been the first guy Taylor had sex with. They had so much more in common than Taylor and Frank, and they were both twenty-three. How could he compete with Billy-fucking-Scranton? So he muttered something about helping Val and made his escape before he made a fool of himself.
Valerie turned her head when he walked in, smiling around a mouth full of blueberries, waving with the spatula in her hand. He pointed at the fridge, jerking the door open with more force than necessary, grabbing a beer then kicking the door shut. The lid was off and half the bottle drained before he felt the tension begin to ebb away. After savoring the rest, Frank walked over to drop the bottle into the recycling bin, taking a glance out the window. He chuckled when he watched Billy reach for Taylor’s hand, Taylor quickly pulling his hand back to run his fingers through his thick, dark, wavy hair.
All right, Moore, obviously that situation is a one-way street. Taylor is not interested. Go take a shower and get a hold of yourself, idiot. Frank’s inner voice seemed to be the one of reason; he should probably listen. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up before dinner,” he told Valerie, taking the stairs two at a time so he could shower, change, and get back down for dinner as soon as possible.
The steam calmed his nerves and opened his airways completely. A bit of Dallas smog was still lining his nostrils even two days after arriving. Inhaling deeply, all he smelled was the ocean—Lord, how he loved that scent. The peace and quiet was another perk of having a cottage in Martha’s Vineyard. Teeth and hair brushed, deodorant on, no time to shave, and all that was left was to get dressed. Throwing on a long-sleeved blue Henley and a pair of cargo shorts, Frank headed back downstairs to help finish up dinner.
Seeing Taylor bobbing and weaving, ducking away from his mom as she came at him with a wooden spoon in her hand and a gleam in her eyes was quite possibly, the cutest damn thing he’d ever seen. It eased a lot of the tension he was feeling as well.
When Charles and his dad came in the back door a minute or so later, he still had his arms wrapped around Taylor’s waist, holding him in place. But Taylor had managed to get his arms free and snatch the utensil from his mom, holding it high up in the air where she couldn’t possibly reach it while Valerie climbed into the chair closest to them and was on her tiptoes trying to get to the instrument she would wield to beat-eth her child with. The three of them were laughing so hard they began to wheeze, tears streaming down Frank’s and Valerie’s faces. Taylor broke free of his hold and bolted around the island to the other side of the kitchen where he jumped up and down, whooped, and hollered, “Who’s the king of the kitchen now?”
Charles shook his head, laughing softly as he walked over to the chair his wife still stood on and held a hand out to help her down. They all slid into their usual routines seamlessly once Val’s feet were back on the ground and Taylor had hidden the wooden spoon in the freezer. Hubert brought over plates, napkins, and utensils and Frank helped him set the table. Taylor got beers for him, Frank and Charles, wine for Val, and a glass of tea for Hubert. They all laughed it off when Valerie slid a piece of salmon onto each plate, the edges crisp and black. Accidentally or not, the salmon tasted amazing and Frank kicked himself for not buying more. He did add it to the list on the fridge for the next trip into town.
Taylor’s mom hadn’t even finished her plate and she was already yawning, so Frank offered to clean and sent the Stones upstairs to get ready for bed. A glance at his watch told Frank it was already nine. “Damn, where did the day go?” he asked no one in particular.
“Time flies when you’re having fun.” Taylor was right behind him, so close that Frank could feel the heat from his body. Leaning into him, Taylor added his plate and fork to the sink of dishes, his chest brushing against Frank’s back as he moved. When he spoke again, Frank decided it was the cold water he was rinsing the glasses with that made him shiver, not Taylor’s breath caressing his earlobe as spoke, barely above a whisper. “I’m gonna go upstairs and change. Why don’t you grab a couple of chairs and a blanket and I’ll meet you where the water hits the sand?”
With shaking hands, Frank managed to get the rest of the dishes into the dishwasher and tossed a soap packet in before hitting start and shutting the door. The butterflies in his stomach were back but his mind was clear. He was ready for this. Reg
ardless of the outcome, Frank would put it all out there and see where the pieces fell. Walking away was no longer an option. He truly wanted to be with Taylor and was confident the feelings were mutual. Walking over to the small closet underneath the back stairs, he pulled the door open and bent to retrieve two of the collapsible beach chairs that sat low to the ground and three blankets, just to be safe. That way he’d have one to spread out for the chairs to sit on, and one for each of them, if needed. The night air was often chilly, even more so if you were at the water’s edge.
The path from the house to the beach was bathed in soft light from the moon and stars and Frank was happy not to have the sun heating up the sand as he made his way to the beach barefoot. It took less than a minute to spread a blanket out and pop both chairs open. Before he sat, Frank looked up to the house and saw Taylor’s silhouette in the window of the room he’d spent summers sleeping in for the past decade. The curtain moved to the side and Frank had to squint to see Taylor wave before the fabric fell back and within seconds, the room went dark. Eyes darting left, Frank saw a couple of lights still on in the Scranton house and frowned.
“If you fuck with my night, Billy Scranton, I’ll handcuff you to the grill of Caleb’s monster truck,” Frank swore.
Taking a seat while he waited, Frank stared out across the water. From his view, he could see the lanterns that lined the jetty closest to them bouncing off the waves, shimmering just beneath the surface of the water, the effect entrancing. The backdrop of the portrait before him was the lighthouse across the way with the moon off to one side, twin globes of light fighting for dominance in the night sky. Frank thought back to the night he came out of the water naked, Taylor likely standing right where he sat, watching him. Had he wanted Frank back then? How long had this infatuation been blooming in Taylor’s heart? No, not infatuation. That was an emotion that could easily be confusing and outgrown. Burn bright but fizzle out just as quickly. He hoped Taylor’s feelings for him went way beyond sentiment that could be tossed aside.