Promises (Coda Book 1)

by Marie Sexton

  “Jared, wait.” He chewed his lip, tapping his pencil nervously against his book, but at least he was looking at me. “I’m never going to pass this class without help. I can’t pay you, but I’ll work off the clock if you’ll tutor me.”

  “What about your dad?”

  He shrugged a little. “He wants me to pass. I’ll work it out.”

  His sudden change in attitude surprised me. Maybe I really had gotten through to him a little bit. Or maybe he was really that desperate to pass. Either way, the idea of tutoring him wasn’t as dreadful as I’d thought at first. I was actually looking forward to having something different to do. It might even be fun.

  Fun?

  That was a pretty sad indication as to the state of my social life. Still, sitting at a counter in a hardware/auto parts store wasn’t exactly stimulating. At least this would exercise some of my neglected gray matter. I could almost feel those unused parts of my brain waking up, stretching, looking around to see what was going on.

  Ringo was still staring at me, waiting for my answer. Why not?

  “Okay, kid. Let’s see where you’re at.”

  Chapter 5

  RINGO TURNED out to be a good student. He had the bad habit of wanting to plug numbers into equations right away instead of working with the variables, but once I broke him of that, he started making progress. He was also hindered a little by his pride. He often told me he understood things before he really did, but he never gave up. I’d been working with him for a couple of weeks when Matt showed up at the shop. I hadn’t seen him since that night at Lizzy’s when he found out I was gay. I hadn’t expected to hear from him again.

  “Hey, Jared. I was hoping to catch you before you left.”

  Lizzy immediately feigned great interest in a shelf of oil filters. I knew she was listening to every word but trying to look like she wasn’t.

  “I still owe you dinner and a beer. How about it?”

  If I grinned any bigger, my face would fall apart. “Sounds great.”

  He glanced over at Lizzy. “You’re welcome to join us, of course.”

  “What? Me?” She managed to look flustered and embarrassed about being caught listening. “No. Brian’s waiting for me, and I can’t drink until after the baby’s born. You two will have more fun without me.”

  We walked down the street to Mamacita’s, Coda’s one and only Mexican restaurant.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked him before we went inside.

  “Okay with what?”

  “This is a small town. People will see you with me, and they’ll make assumptions.”

  He frowned a little at that, and I realized it hadn’t occurred to him. But then he shrugged. “It’s just dinner.”

  “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Once we were seated, our waitress, Cherie, came over. “Jared, who’s your friend?” she asked.

  Cherie and I went to school together from kindergarten all the way through high school graduation. Back then, she was gorgeous—blonde hair, brown eyes, curves in all the right places. She still is, I guess, but life has taken its toll. Some of the shine has gone, but she hasn’t totally lost it. She’s been married and divorced twice, both times to Dan, one of our local lowlifes. The rumors are that Dan liked to beat her up when he’d been drinking, which was most of the time. She’d even ended up in the hospital once. She at least had been smart enough to divorce him. Twice. And they didn’t have any kids, which I thought was a blessing.

  “Cherie, this is Matt. He’s Coda’s newest police officer.” Matt would undoubtedly become acquainted with her ex-husband before too long. He was always getting in trouble for something. “Matt, this is Cherie. She’s….” Trouble? Desperate? Lonely? “An old friend,” I finished lamely.

  “So glad to meet you.” She gave him a killer smile. Somehow, I knew we were going to get great service while we were there. Matt wasn’t shy about checking her out as she walked away either.

  “So,” he said, once she was gone, “did you and she date?”

  I laughed. “No.”

  “Did you ever date any girls at all?”

  Oh no. Not this conversation. Why did it always come down to this?

  “No. I never seriously dated any girls.”

  “So, you’ve never…?” He let the question trail off, but it was obvious what he meant.

  “No. Never with a girl.”

  “Well, how do you know—?”

  I couldn’t stop from rolling my eyes. “I just know. The fact that I’ve never even wanted to is a pretty big clue.”

  Cherie showed up with our drinks, beaming at him. He didn’t seem to notice. When she was gone again, he said, “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  “No worries. Some people think if I just try it, maybe I’ll like it. But for me at least, it’s not like that.”

  “For some, though?”

  “I don’t know. Obviously there are guys who like men but who still manage to get married and have kids. It must be different for them. I can’t really say. I only know I’ve never wanted to try. Women just don’t appeal to me.”

  “Interesting.” The tips of his ears turned bright red. “What about, you know, the religious implications?”

  “Are you asking me if I think it’s a sin?”

  “I guess so, yeah.”

  “I don’t believe in God, so no. Once you take him out of the equation, it becomes a simple matter of consenting adults.”

  I could tell right away that made him uncomfortable. “So you don’t believe in God at all?” He didn’t sound offended by the idea, just surprised.

  “Not really. I wasn’t raised that way. My dad was an atheist. My mom… well, I guess you could call her a spiritual agnostic with Buddhist inclinations, if you know what I mean.” The look on his face told me he didn’t. “I guess I figure there may be something out there that’s godlike. Something we can’t even begin to comprehend. But I can’t imagine that he, or it, cares much who’s in my bed.”

  He frowned, not as if he disagreed, but as if I’d baffled him completely.

  “I take it you’re Christian?”

  “I guess so. I don’t know. I’m not a Bible-thumper or anything, but I guess I’ve always believed it must be true. My family’s Baptist. Didn’t go to church that often but always said grace before dinner. That kind of thing. I just never really thought about it much. How can so many people believe it if it’s wrong?”

  “The number of people who believe a thing has no bearing upon its truth.”

  He was still thinking about that when Cherie brought our food. “Need anything else, honey?” She didn’t even look at me. He ordered two more beers.

  I figured turnabout was fair play. “So how about you? You never felt attracted to another guy?”

  His cheeks turned red, and the result was beautiful. “Never.” But it sounded like a lie to me. It was a little too quick and too angry. In my experience, men who are truly straight don’t have to defend themselves so obstinately.

  “It’s okay, you know? It’s okay to admit that you’re sometimes attracted to men. It doesn’t mean you’re any less of one.”

  “No.” Not angry but a little annoyed.

  “Okay. Did you play any sports in high school?” That might have sounded like I was letting him off the hook, but I wasn’t done yet.

  “I wrestled.”

  Perfect! Of course, now I was trying to picture him in one of those tight little leotard things wrestlers wear.

  “And when you were wrestling, rolling around on the floor with another guy, you never started to get turned on?”

  “That’s not the same.”

  That surprised me. I’d been expecting denial. “It isn’t?”

  “No. Everybody had that happen from time to time. It didn’t mean anything. We just, you know, thought about baseball or something until the problem resolved itself.” He was recovering a little now, getting back to his usual bantering tone. />
  “And did thinking about baseball players make it go away? Because I’m not sure that would work for me.”

  He grinned. “Maybe not, but thinking about having the rest of the team kick my ass generally did the trick.”

  “Yes, I suppose it would.”

  We finished dinner and headed back to the shop. Despite the awkward topic over dinner, we lapsed easily back into comfortable conversation.

  “So why did you become a cop?”

  “Seemed like the thing to do. Do my duty. Protect and serve. God and country. All that happy horseshit.”

  “God and country? Are you a Marine or something?”

  He frowned again. I wished he’d smile more. His smile was probably amazing. “No. My dad was, though. I was supposed to be. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for not enlisting. I joined ROTC, but that wasn’t really enough for him. Everyone else—my dad, my uncle, my grandpa—they were all military. I don’t think they could ever understand why I didn’t want that life. As far as he’s concerned, it was my duty, and I failed.”

  Boy, did that explain a lot. He seemed embarrassed, though, having said so much I wasn’t surprised when he changed the subject.

  “You ever gone geocaching?” he asked.

  “Nope. I’ve heard about it, but I don’t have a GPS.”

  “I thought I’d give it a shot next weekend. Want to join me?”

  “Sure.” I told myself this was not a date. Just buddies. And it’d be nice to have a buddy, to be honest. Lizzy and Brian were great, but I was still lonely a lot. The idea of having a friend to hang out with was nice. I figured I better take advantage of it before one of the eligible women in town started monopolizing his free time. “That sounds like fun.”

  “I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday.”

  I was sure Lizzy wouldn’t mind if I took the day off. I gave him directions to my house and spent the rest of the week counting down the hours, cursing myself for a fool the entire time.

  Chapter 6

  HE ARRIVED at my place at nine fifteen on Saturday. I wasn’t expecting him so early. I hadn’t shaved and was only wearing boxers. He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Late night?” he asked jokingly.

  “No, not at all. I’m just a bum, and you’re early. Come on in.”

  “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” He glanced nervously toward the bedroom.

  I laughed. “God, I wish. The only option for me in this town is Mr. Stevens, the high school band teacher. And he’s thirty years older than me. I’ve never been quite that desperate.”

  “Glad to hear that.” He headed for the kitchen. “Got any coffee or anything?”

  “Sure. Help yourself. Just give me a minute to get dressed.”

  From the bedroom, I heard the refrigerator open, and then he called out, “Good Lord, don’t you have any food?”

  “There’s food in there.”

  “I see milk, beer, a brick of cheese, two carry-out containers, and three—no, make that four—jars of mustard.”

  “There you go—milk, beer, and cheese: the three basic food groups,” I told him as I came into the kitchen. “I didn’t say there was a lot of food. I don’t exactly cook.”

  “Me neither. Although I dare say my fridge looks a little better than this.” He closed it and turned to me, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Let’s stop by the deli and get some sandwiches to take with us. I’m starving already.”

  I wasn’t sure our sandwich shop (I couldn’t quite call it a deli) would be open yet, but we could at least hit the grocery store.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “All set.”

  “Great. We’ll get some food, then, um”—why did he seem so flustered?—“we need to stop by and pick up Cherie on our way out of town.”

  I felt like he’d just punched me in the stomach. “Cherie?”

  He at least had the decency to look miserable. “I know. Here’s the deal: A few nights ago, we got a call for a domestic disturbance. And it turned out to be her house. Her loser ex-husband—what’s his name again?”

  “Dan Snyder.”

  “Right. He was there. He was so drunk, he could hardly stand up. She was crying, and he was screaming, calling her a whore and worse. And it looked like maybe he’d hit her too, but of course she denied it. On domestic calls, we have to remove one of them from the scene. And that got ugly.

  “Anyway, she tracked me down the next day. She showed up at my house, for Christ’s sake. Said she wanted to thank me, so would I come to dinner at her place? She didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. So I got her to agree to come along with us today instead. Seemed a lot safer than going alone to her house.” He sighed and then cocked his eyebrow at me, one corner of his mouth barely twitching up. I was beginning to realize this was what amounted to a smile for him. “Consider yourself our chaperone.”

  “You need me to defend your virtue?” I tried not to smile.

  “Not my virtue so much as my independence.”

  “So, I’m defending your independence?”

  He winked at me. “Exactly.”

  I had to laugh. “Sweet. I’ve always wanted to be a goddamn freedom fighter. But you’re definitely going to owe me a beer for this one.”

  He looked enormously relieved. “I promise.”

  Knowing he wasn’t too interested in seeing her made me feel a little better. It was obvious when we picked her up that Matt hadn’t really clarified that they weren’t going to be alone. She wasn’t any happier to see me than I was to see her. Still, she seemed determined to make the best of it. I got out of the Jeep and started to climb into the back.

  “Jared, don’t be silly. With your long legs, you’ll be miserable back there. It’s no problem for me to sit in the back.”

  I guess chivalry really is dead, because I didn’t argue. She obviously didn’t consider me a rival for his attention. And why would she? I had to remind myself that I wasn’t. She situated herself in the middle of the back seat so she could easily lean forward between the seats to talk to us, and we set off.

  We had the GPS location of the cache. Given that and a handheld GPS, it seemed like it should be easy to find the spot. But finding a way there turned out to be surprisingly difficult. We had a big book of topographical maps, which would have been great if they hadn’t been ten years old. We spent several hours roaming the high country, trying to find the trail that would take us to the little box of goodies.

  “So, Matt, where did you move here from?” Cherie asked.

  “I’ve lived a lot of places. Oklahoma most recently, but I’ve also lived in Texas, Arkansas, and Kansas City.” He looked pointedly at me when he said that last one.

  I laughed. “That explains it. I wondered why a boy from Oklahoma would be a Chiefs fan, Now that you’re here in Colorado, where we have a real team, you really need to change your tune. I’ll take you to a game, and you can be converted by the Mile High Magic.”

  “You Coloradans are so deluded. You think Mile High is so great? You ever been to Arrowhead? Those people know how to tailgate. Barbecue cooking all day all over the lot. You can smell it for miles.” He grinned at me. “You Broncos fans have a lot to learn.”

  “I love barbecue as much as the next man, but it really doesn’t justify cheering for a mediocre team, does it?”

  “Mediocre? We only finished one game behind you last year, and that’s only because our running back was out for half the season. I bet—”

  “So,” Cherie cut in from the back seat. We both jumped a little, and I realized I wasn’t the only one who’d forgotten she was there. “You have temporary plates. Is this Jeep new?”

  “Yeah, I bought it from Jared.”

  “Oh really? Jared, I didn’t think you owned a car.”

  I was glad she couldn’t see me roll my eyes. “I own a car. I just prefer riding my bike.” Why did everybody think that was so weird? “Anyway, technically he bought it from Lizzy.”

  �
��It’s great for the trails here, isn’t it?”

  “That’s partly why I bought it. Speaking of trails, some of the guys at the station were talking about Culver’s Trail?”

  “Never heard of it,” Cherie said.

  But he was looking at me. “Culver’s Trail isn’t a four-wheel drive trail,” I told him. “It’s for hiking and biking. It’s one of the easier mountain biking trails around.”

  “Really? They said it was pretty tough.”

  I grinned at him. “They must be wimps.” But the implications excited me. “Are you planning on buying a mountain bike?” Suddenly the idea of having somebody to ride with had me excited.

  “Should I?”

  Should he give me a perfect excuse to spend more time with him? “Absolutely.”

  We finally found the spot and dug up the little metal box. It contained a logbook and a random assortment of junk: a green plastic army man, a playing card, a ten-sided die. We hadn’t thought to bring anything with us to add, so we settled for writing our names in the logbook, then headed back to the Jeep.

  “Shotgun!” Cherie called. She looked a little embarrassed about having said it, but I understood.

  “That’s only fair, since you had the back seat on the way up.” But it didn’t work. Matt still talked to me more than her as we drove home. Back in town, she gave it one more try. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in for a drink?”

  “Thanks, but Jared’s sister-in-law is expecting us at her house for dinner.”

  The lie surprised me, but I tried to nod convincingly. “Yeah, we really need to get going.”

  Matt relaxed visibly once she was gone. “Let’s go get that beer I owe you.”

  “You do realize that this is a pretty small town. Anywhere we go, there’s a chance she’ll see us, or one of her friends will see us, and she’ll know you lied.”

  He slumped. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  The idea of spending another hour or two together definitely sounded better than going back to my empty house, and I was pleasantly surprised that he seemed to feel the same way. “We actually could go to Lizzy’s. It’s Saturday. She’s probably halfway expecting me to show up.”