The Pet Stylist and the Playboy

by Rebecca James

  I swallowed. My brain told me to protect myself and give a short answer, but my heart wanted to open up to this man who had been so kind to me.

  “I was in a bad place. I mean, emotionally and mentally. And I was homeless. I’d been in a string of foster homes as a kid, and then in a kind of crummy relationship. I didn’t see anyway to move forward.” I didn’t look at Gus. Couldn’t. “I was planning on doing something that night. Dante came across me in the bathroom of the gas station where he was working, and he took me back to the clubhouse. He saved my life. He’s a really good person, Gus.”

  Gus leaned forward. “If Dante helped show you that your life is worth something, then he’s A-1 in my book.” He studied me a moment more. “Are you all right, Son?”

  I stilled but kept my eyes on the cook book that still sat in my lap. It was only a slip of the tongue. An easy mistake. Don’t think too much of it. “I’m fine.”

  “I want you to be happy here, Isaac. You know, if you feel you made a mistake taking this job and moving here, or you want to be back at the clubhouse with your friends, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me.”

  I looked up. “What? No! I don’t feel like it was a mistake. I love it here. Really.” God, the last thing I’d meant to do was to make Gus think something like that.

  “I’m sorry to pry, but I’ve grown fond of you.”

  Tears pricked my eyes.

  “Isaac?”

  At the mild alarm in Gus’s voice, Butch woke up with a snort and scrambled to his feet

  “I’m okay.”

  Gus patted the couch. “Come sit by me.”

  Reluctantly, I laid the book on the table and moved to sit beside the old man. He took my hand. His was wrinkled and dotted with age spots, but strong and warm.

  “Sometimes family is what you make it, not what you’re born with. From what you told me, I suspect there’s a lot of hurt in your past. Maybe something’s happened with Dante or the others and you feel you don’t have anyone, but I’m telling you, you do. I’m your family and you’re mine, if you’re okay with that. I’m all alone in this world now, but even if I wasn’t, I’d be proud to have a nice young man like you for a son.”

  I pressed my lips together to stop their trembling as tears flowed down my cheeks.

  Gus let go of my hand to push my hair out of my face. “Is that okay with you?”

  All I could do was nod. Never had anyone said anything like that to me. I didn’t know what to do with the feelings rising in my chest.

  “Can I ask you something, Isaac?”

  I nodded, wiping my face with my sleeve.

  “Do you have feelings for Dante?”

  Surprised, I dropped my arm. Not only had I not addressed the issue of my sexuality with Gus, but I also hadn’t expected him to figure out how I felt about Dante.

  “I know you’re gay, Isaac. It doesn’t bother me.”

  I looked down at my lap. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  “There’s no reason to be sorry. It’s none of my business who you’re attracted to, and I’m sorry for asking about Dante. I just had a feeling, and you seem so unhappy tonight.”

  I licked salty tears from my lips. “I do have feelings for him. I have for a long time.”

  “Does he know?”

  I shrugged. “I’m sure he’s guessed.”

  “Dante’s not gay?”

  “He’s bi. Bisexual. But he doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

  Gus squeezed my knee. “I’m sorry. That must be difficult.”

  I wiped at my tears. “Yeah. It’s part of the reason I moved out of the clubhouse.”

  Gus looked troubled. “And I went and gave Dante a job, making it so you have to see him every day. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” I smiled at him. “Truth is, I would’ve been sick with missing Dante if I hadn’t been able to see him.” I shook my head. “I have to learn to get over this, so we can stay friends, and I’ve been working on that.”

  “All right, then, I’ll take your word for it. Now we’ve got all of that settled, what about some of those brownies you made earlier? I think I’ve got room for one or two.”

  I headed for the kitchen, happy for a moment alone. Affection for the old man threatened to wreck me if I didn’t get a hold of myself. I resolved to work doubly hard for Gus and to make his life as comfortable as I could because he was giving me so much.

  I cut two brownies from the baking dish and placed them on a plate in the microwave until they were soft and warm. I added a little whipped cream I’d made earlier and grabbed a fork and a napkin.

  When I took the plate to Gus in the living room, I found he’d fallen asleep, Angel’s head in his lap. The little dog rolled her big eyes upward to look at me and thumped her tail on the couch. Setting the brownie on the side table, I took the crossword puzzle, glasses, and pen from Gus’s lap and placed them in the basket on the floor. I then pulled the blue knitted throw off the back of the couch and spread it over Gus’s legs, tucking it in around his shoulders. Angel popped her head out of its folds and repositioned herself, letting out a contented sigh as she settled.

  I left on the floor lamp by the couch, so Gus wouldn’t become disoriented if he awoke, and left the house, locking the door behind me.

  The full moon shone over the shadows of the tree tops. I still couldn’t get over being able to see so much of the sky. Frogs croaked in the lake, but otherwise a solemn quiet settled around me, and I felt a peace I’d rarely experienced in my life. Remembering Gus’ words about the two of us being family, I smiled. Feeling much better than I had earlier in the evening, my steps quickened as I walked across the grass toward the little house that was now my home.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dante

  At my father’s insistence, I began working Saturdays at Durham Imports. My parents lived in the East Hamptons, and I drove an hour and a half to work on Saturday mornings rather than spending Friday nights at their house. My father insisted I leave my Harley at the clubhouse and drive one of his cars, and since I felt it wise to pick my battles, I didn’t argue.

  “Under no circumstances do you show those tattoos,” my father told me on my first Saturday on the job. “I don’t care how hot it gets; you’re never to roll up your sleeves.” He felt my tattoos were an embarrassment—particularly the devil tat that was the Hedonists’ trademark.

  The Hedonists were, and had been for years, a subject of contention between me and my parents. I’d let them know long ago I would always be part of the club, no matter what. The Hedonists had been more of a family to me than Logan and Gayle Durham had ever been. My parents had never shown me much affection, and I’d always wished for a sibling I could be close to. My club brothers had filled that spot in my heart, and I couldn’t let them go.

  Since I knew I was expected to marry and have children, I swore to myself I’d be a better parent than mine had been to me.

  Despite my father’s lack of parenting skills, I had to admire him when it came to business. He owned three dealerships in the New York City area and ran them smoothly. He insisted that, as a Durham, I was born with what it took to do the same, and his plan was to groom me to soon take over one, and eventually all, the dealerships.

  He started me out on the showroom floor, shadowing the salesmen. On my first day, I told myself it would probably take some time to get used to, but after a couple of Saturdays, I was wondering how the hell I was going to do it full time.

  Week days that I spent at Gus’s finishing repairs or with my hands in the warm earth were therapeutic to me. I didn’t tell Swish I was working for my father on Saturdays. I couldn’t bring myself to admit I was being groomed for a job I would hate. He’d have to know soon, just not yet.

  I wanted to enjoy what time I had left.

  ***

  July was sweltering. Wearing only a pair of cut-offs and a bandanna on my head to keep the sweat from my eyes, I took a break from weeding the garden area beside Isaa
c’s house to watch Swish throwing a toy to the big dogs. The animals scrambled and tumbled over one another trying to be the first to get hold of the rubber bone and take it back to Swish. Swish had named one of the dogs Beauty after a black horse in an old Liz Taylor movie. He had such a big heart, and knowing he’d spent his childhood going from one foster home to another made me both angry and unbearably sad at the same time.

  My feelings for Swish were becoming more and more confusing. My time with him at Gus’s had shown me layers of him I’d never seen at the clubhouse, and I found myself wanting to spend more time with him. I’d also awakened the physical attraction that I had repressed over the past two years.

  Ever since the day I’d seen the lace above the waist of his jeans, I hadn’t been able to forget it. I wanted to know what Swish would look like wearing that thong without any other clothing, and that just wasn’t right. He was the younger brother I’d always wanted, not one of my conquests.

  Trying hard not to imagine Swish’s round, bare ass covered in lace and silk, I turned back to the flower bed.

  A shadow fell over where I kneeled in the grass.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I blinked up at Swish, a fistful of weeds in my hand.

  “Nothing.”

  “You had a weird look on your face.”

  “I was just thinking while I worked.”

  Swish plopped down on the ground next to me, stretching out his long legs and crossing his bare feet at the ankles. Like me, he wore shorts and a tank top. I couldn’t help but admire the toned muscles of his tanned thighs and calves.

  “What about?” Swish asked.

  I tossed the crumpled weeds onto the pile and dropped from my heels to my ass on the warm grass. I pulled the navy bandanna from my head and wiped the sweat from my face.

  “Nothing in particular.”

  Swish frowned. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” I had no clue what he was talking about.

  “Always put me off when I ask you what’s bugging you? It’s obvious something is. I’m not stupid, and I know you. Is it that you don’t trust me?” When I didn’t immediately reply, he started to get up. “Maybe we aren’t as good of friends as I thought.”

  I grabbed Swish’s arm.

  “We’re friends, and I do trust you. It’s just family stuff I don’t like talking about.”

  Swish slowly sat down again. Despite the heat, his hair hung loose. He was wearing it like that more and more these days, and I liked to think it was because I’d told him he should. Remembering how it had felt to run my fingers through all that softness, I fiddled with the trowel in my hand, so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach for it.

  Swish told you about his past, even though it was hard. Can’t you throw him a bone?

  Attempting to meet Swish’s eyes, my gaze got snagged on the curve of his lips and stayed there.

  “I...don’t get along with my folks much. Things are strained between us. I’m their only kid, so I feel a responsibility to see them.”

  Swish ran his tongue over his bottom lip, causing my crotch to tighten.

  “How come you don’t get along?”

  I dragged my gaze from his mouth and wiped the dirt from my knees. “They just aren’t particularly affectionate people.”

  “Is that where you’ve been going every Saturday? To see them?” Swish asked.

  I nodded.

  “I thought you’d had dates.”

  I met his gaze. “Dates?” I chuckled. “Since when do I go on dates?”

  Swish leaned back on his arms, hair spilling down his back and a small brown nipple peeking out from under his tank. I tried and failed not to look at it.

  “I guess what you do is more like hit-and-runs than dates,” Swish conceded.

  I broke into laughter. “You might have a point there. But I haven’t been doing much of that lately.” Try at all.

  “How come?”

  I shrugged. “Guess I’m getting older.”

  “Oh, yeah. The big 3-0’s approaching. You probably can’t even get it up anymore.”

  “Shut up.” I nudged his leg with mine. His skin was hot from the sun.

  “Want to take a swim in the lake?” I asked on impulse.

  Swish looked surprised.

  “What? You swim in the lake a lot.”

  “Not with you,” Swish said.

  I got to my feet and put out a hand to help Swish up. “Come on. It’s hot out here.”

  After Swish had led the dogs into the enclosure and latched the gate, we walked side-by-side to the lake.

  When Swish moved to the edge of the dock and prepared to dive in, I asked, “You gonna swim in your shirt?”

  He looked at me over his shoulder, long hair tucked behind his ear and eyes round.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Why?”

  Swish let out a breath. Quick as a flash, he whipped off the tank top and executed a perfect dive into the water.

  He came up some ways away, treading water and grinning up at me. “Let’s see what you got, old man.”

  I’d been a lifeguard at the country club all through high school, so I knew how to dive. I came to the surface close to Swish.

  “And here I didn’t think you could do anything but fuck,” he said with a teasing smile.

  “Jeez, such a great opinion of me.”

  Considering the string of men and women in and out of my bedroom the past couple of years, I felt pretty ashamed of myself.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “It wasn’t very nice of me to screw so many people in our room like I did.”

  Lake water trickled down Swish’s forehead and spiked his long eyelashes. “It was your room.”

  “No, it was ours. And every time I brought someone home, I kicked you out like a dog.”

  “You never actually kicked me out; I just found someplace else to sleep. Except for that time I didn’t wake up, and you were so drunk you didn’t notice me.”

  I stilled and began to sink. Churning my legs and moving my arms to keep afloat, I said, “What? Are you—you’re making that up.”

  Swish met my gaze, and I could see he wasn’t. “It only happened once. Some guy you picked up at a bar.”

  “Oh, my God. I feel like the worst kind of shit.” Sickened, I turned and made for the shore.

  Flopping out on the grass, I stared up at the trees. The sun peeked through the branches at intervals, flashing into my eyes. I wished I could blame that for the tears welling in them.

  Swish lay down beside me and gently touched my bare chest. “Hey. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  I looked at him. “What do you mean, it wasn’t a big deal? Of course, it was! I fucked somebody right in front of you, like you were a piece of furniture!” I fucking hated myself at that moment.

  Swish winced. “Well, when you put it that way...”

  “Christ.” I went back to my perusal of the leafy canopy overhead. I was the lowest. I wanted to throw myself into the lake and drown. I’d invited Swish to live at the clubhouse and hadn’t curbed my habits one iota for him. Imagining myself pounding away at some guy I’d just met with Swish in the bed across the room from us literally turned my stomach. Rolling away from him, I rested my head on my arm and closed my eyes.

  “Dante,” Swish said after a few minutes of silence. “Please, just let it go.”

  “God,” I murmured, rolling over and sitting up. I pressed my forehead to my raised knees, trying and failing to hold back the tears.

  Swish began stroking my hair.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, words muffled and broken. “So fucking sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. I wish I didn’t bring it up. That was a long time ago, and it only happened that once.”

  I groaned, thinking of Swish lying in bed, listening to me fucking somebody else when he probably had had a crush on me. He hadn’t yelled at me or thrown a pillow or anything. I raised my head.

  Swish stared at me, obviously amazed I cou
ld drum up so much contrition and anguish for my disgusting actions, and that made me feel like even more of an asshole. Boy, I must be way up there on his list of awesome people—somewhere between Jack the Ripper and Attila the Hun.

  Swish’s features softened. “Dante—it’s okay. Really. Please don’t be so upset.” He looked so appealing in that moment with his big brown eyes and wet lashes, I wanted to kiss him. Instead, I ran my hands over my face and pushed my fingers into my eyes. I didn’t need to be thinking of kissing Swish, and the fact I was just proved what a horny shit I was.

  “Fuck.” I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I should get back to work.”

  Swish scrambled up and walked alongside me. We’d left our shirts on the dock. I’d go back for them later.

  “You’re too hard on yourself,” Swish said. “You’re a great person. You saved me when no one else cared.”

  I stopped walking but didn’t look at him. “I didn’t do anything. Just offered you a place to stay.”

  Swish ran his fingers lightly over my arm. I wished he’d stop touching me. Right then, I didn’t feel worthy of his touch or feel strong enough to fight the feelings it evoked in me.

  “For two years, when I didn’t have any place else to go,” Swish said. “You were my friend when I needed one the most.”

  “Something would have come up. Someone else would have helped.” I started walking again, determined to finish for the day and get out of there. I couldn’t look Swish in the face.

  He matched my strides, arguing with me. “You don’t know the state of mind I was in that day. You don’t know.”

  When I didn’t answer, Swish stopped in his tracks. “If you hadn’t offered me a place to stay, I wouldn’t have made it to the next day.”

  That brought me around. I stared at him where he stood, water beading on his body from our swim. His shorts clung to him, and his nipples stood out tiny and brown on his hairless chest. An ache like I’d never known before washed over me.

  “Are you saying...” I left off, unable to voice the words.

  Swish studied the ground. “I had it all planned out. The razor blades were in my knapsack. I was gonna hide there in the men’s room when the gas station closed and do it there. I was just so sick of everything. Sick of trying. Sick of failing. I wanted out.”