“This way.” His grin was easy and natural, pretty much fitting for the man I was getting to know.
I walked around the tables and the counter. Just before I reached Davis, he stepped out of the doorway, leaving it free for me to head right through. Stainless steel filled the space, everything pristine and clearly in its proper place. Out of my periphery, I watched Davis step in front of a huge refrigerator. He pulled out a few items and came to the large island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Grab those for me, will you?” He indicated with a nod toward the back wall. I followed his gaze and spotted the stools. With a bob of my head, I made my way over, grabbed two stools, and took them toward him. “Right,” he said as he continued to unpack his loot, “before we start, have you ever actually been to my place before?” Davis paused and looked at me expectantly.
“No,” I admitted. “I’ve had takeout coffee and a couple of pastries before, but it was via order and brought to the practice by one of the staff.” My gaze drifted to about six different pastries and cakes. I legit had a sweet tooth. For all of my healthy-ish living, put a sweet in front of me, hell, put five in front of me and I’d try my hardest to clear the plates. Sweets were my one weakness. With everything else in my life I’d learned to hold back, control, or use moderation. But cake…. I’d been known to throw a fit something major a time or three at college when a housemate ate one of my stashed cakes.
With a raised brow, Davis perused me. I had no idea what he was looking for, but before I could overthink or become uncomfortable, he smiled and pulled open a drawer, his focus switching to collecting utensils.
“Okay, I’ve decided I can forgive you for not coming here before, since you’ve tasted my savories.” I gulped, having no idea if he’d intended to assist in dragging my mind into the gutter. His expression was far from the picture of innocence. It was already clear that with Davis, there was too much mischief, too much laughter and fun to ever make it appear he wasn’t up to no good. I had no idea if he was flirting or just being friendly. I latched on to the latter. It was the safer option, and hell, I could openly admit I was in desperate need of friends.
“Right,” I said cautiously, not sure where he was going with this whole visit, beyond hoping the sweets before us would be offered up. It would certainly help to smooth out my anxiety from earlier.
“But,” he continued, “I do expect you to stop by every now and then. I’m always trying new stuff out and could do with a taste tester.” I grinned at that, more than happy to comply. “For now, take a seat, grab a fork, but no sampling just yet. Give me a sec.”
I did as he asked, my chest feeling light. Waiting as Davis stepped through another door just to the side, I picked up the fork and spun it around between my fingers. A moment later, I glanced up. Davis was back with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
“Not perhaps what I would have selected to go with the sweets before us, but it’s wet and it’s red.” He shrugged and indicated the bottle. “Also, I’ve no wineglasses here.”
“A glass is a glass, right?” I grinned.
He nodded, his eyes connecting with mine and a generous smile flitting across his lips. “Good answer.”
Placing the glasses down, he then opened the bottle and poured.
“Thanks.” I picked up my full tumbler.
“No problem.” He chinked his glass against mine. I brought the glass to my lips and took a sip. “Good?” Davis asked.
“Red, wet, booze, and tasty.” I laughed and threw him a wink.
He snorted and shook his head. “I had you pegged for a connoisseur and half expected you to be talking bold and oaky.” He took another sip and lifted his brow in my direction.
I offered a small shrug. “In a previous life, maybe.”
“And not anymore?”
With a slight shake of my head, I answered truthfully. “Screw that.”
Davis guffawed. “Screw that indeed.”
With my eyes locked to his, I struggled to pull away. Not only did I remember the press of his lips against mine and the sensation of his tongue in my mouth, but having gotten to know Davis and having shared more than a few syllables with him, attraction tightened my gut and awareness sprang to life. I realized, and without the reaction I expected, that I would happily kiss him again.
But not yet. Maybe when I was ready, and maybe if I thought he’d reciprocate, and hell, maybe if I could get my head around the whole “Davis has a kid” announcement, then perhaps I’d consider it.
For now, cake and wine were in my immediate future. And while it would mean the continuation of many countless nights of sexual frustration by not testing the waters with kissing a guy again, it was cake. One of the best consolation prizes ever.
“So,” he began, sitting beside me, his fork raised and pointing at a pastry that had me already salivating, “this one is only my second test batch. Wanna taste?” He angled himself toward me, and I was already nodding before he finished. Davis’s laugh filled the small space between us. “You like pastries?”
I scoffed. “Like doesn’t even come close to how I feel about sweets.” My grin stretched my face as I drifted between ogling the deliciousness before me and the deliciousness that was Davis. He was fun, gorgeous, and I was sure—based on what I’d eaten via takeout—he was one heck of a baker or pastry chef. I had no idea of the correct term, but if the spread before me tasted as good as it looked, I imagined I’d be calling him god before long.
When I noticed he hadn’t responded, and just how quiet it had become in the room, my gaze flicked to Davis. He stared at me, his eyes roaming my face. Holding my breath, not quite sure what he was reacting to, I remained focused on him. Immediately, I became lost, my breath rushing out of me when his eyes connected with mine. Not quite sure how to describe the look or emotion in his eyes, I deduced enough to know whatever he was thinking wasn’t bad. It was enough to get me breathing once again.
“You okay?” After only just finding such freedom and normality with Davis, the last thing I wanted was to lose it. At the bar, he’d made it clear he was open, almost to the point of being so direct it made people uncomfortable, or at least unsure how to react or respond. I liked the concept, regardless of others’ reactions.
With a barely perceptible nod, his eyes searched mine before he said, “Smiling and laughing looks good on you. You should do it all the time.”
Despite my heart that had taken flight and was fluttering around like it was trying to escape, I raised both of my brows. “How do you know I don’t?”
His lips curled. “Call it a hunch.”
Mulling over how to respond, I didn’t waste time in pretense. “Thank you.” I gave a sharp nod. “I’ll try.”
Seeming pleased with my response, he looked away and placed the pastry down before me. “Pear tarte tatin. Admittedly, it’s much better when warm, but I’m sure it’ll taste just as sweet tonight. Dig in.”
I didn’t need a second invite. Cutting a piece off with the edge of my fork, I placed it in my mouth and appreciated the flavor before I started chewing and unapologetically groaning. “Holy shit.” I reached for another forkful and happily inhaled my second piece. The sweetness, the caramelized pears, teamed with the light pastry was pretty spectacular. Hearing Davis’s amusement, I cast him a glance. He wore a shit-eating grin.
“Don’t fill yourself up with just that one. There’s more.”
“I don’t think that would ever be possible.”
“What?” he asked, his voice light and amused.
“Eating so much cake or the good stuff”—I indicated the pastry—“that it would stop me from having room for more.”
His eyes roamed my chest and traveled lower. I ignored the heat spreading across my chest under his scrutiny. “You must have amazing self-control, or you work out all the time.”
I snorted, relieved there was no salacious undercurrent to his tone. He was simply making an observation. Admittedly, I liked to think he’d eyed me wi
th some appreciation. “The latter. Sort of. Cake is kryptonite.”
He chuckled. “Death by cake would be an interesting way to go, I suppose.”
“It sure would. Okay, what’s next?” I took a couple of sips of my wine, ignoring the sharpness after the sweetness of the pear.
Humor creased Davis’s brow as he gathered the next treat.
We spent the next thirty minutes sampling Davis’s creations, drinking wine, and chatting about nothing that required thought, and specifically nothing personal. While I was all too aware of the safe topics, I appreciated every one and eased into each conversation happily.
“Shit. I think I’ve broken you,” Davis said with a laugh as he eyed me up and down.
I was angling back on the stool, and if it hadn’t had a backrest, I would have fallen on my ass. My stomach was chockful of sugar and wine. “Apparently,” I said, exhaling, “you have. You’re not going to tell me you’re my nemesis, are you? It’s quite nice being on the same team.” I clamped my mouth shut, and heat hit my cheeks. I chose to ignore the look of amusement on Davis’s face and moved on quickly. “Thanks for tonight, and for this.” I paused, meeting his deep brown eyes. “It was… unexpected, so thank you.”
Davis grinned. “My pleasure.”
“Listen, I’d better—”
“What are you—”
We both started speaking at the same time. “Sorry.” I smiled widely. “You first.”
Davis angled back a little, appearing casual and comfortable. I envied his ease. “What are you doing the rest of this week?”
My eyes widened in surprise. Was he asking because he was interested in seeing me, or was he being polite? The idea of the first sent tingles to my skin. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything like it. “Ah…” I cleared my throat. “To be honest, not much.”
He bit his top lip and sucked it in just a little, his brows dipping. “The job thing, right? You’ve still not made up your mind?”
I shook my head. Unlike every other time I thought about my work situation, whether I should return, quit, or even leave the town for good, I didn’t feel the usual pit of dread in my gut. I had nothing and nobody to stay for, but since my life had blown up, there was nowhere else I’d rather be. “Not yet, no. I will, I need to… make up my mind, that is. I just have some shit to figure out first.”
“That makes sense.” A flash of seriousness crossed his face, his tone losing the lightness when he said, “I don’t think you’re ready to talk about what happened between us”—my face caught fire, shouting my answer loud and clear—“and that’s okay. It’s a lot. My own sexuality was a mindfuck, and trying to explain to others I’m bi and shooting down all the stupid-as-shit stereotypes that come with it is exhausting.”
He was bi. While I’d figured that out or had assumed as much, it felt different hearing it for his truth. Relief swept through me. Knowing he had a child had admittedly left my mind reeling when I considered the heat of our kiss at Carter’s housewarming. Having Davis confirm he was into men and what we’d shared wasn’t a mistake—I damn well hoped not, anyway—tore away a heavy weight that had set on my chest. I could breathe a little easier and actually found a real smile curving my lips as he continued.
“What I’m saying is I really do get it, and I do think we need to talk about what happened, but more than that, I’d like to see you again. You look like you could do with a friend.”
I was all in with his plan. I’d have time to overthink and freak out later. He held up his hand, though, as if he thought I’d challenge him in some way. I wondered what exactly he was thinking. “And this isn’t some sympathy shit.” I held back my grin as he continued. “It’s not like I’m drowning in buddies since moving here, and with Tanner… well, you know he and Carter are inseparable, so yeah, next week, stop by here and I’ll take a break and we’ll have coffee.”
I widened my eyes and waited to see if he had more to say. I liked that he’d spoken so much, liked how while he didn’t appear at all nervous, he’d spoken more than necessary. When he laughed and shook his head and gestured for me to continue, I said, “Sounds good.” I stood. “Let me help you with the dishes, and I’ll get out of here.”
“I’ve got it.”
“You sure?” I stacked a few of the plates before he put his warm hand on my wrist, stopping me. Heat zipped up my arm from his touch. My eyes connected with his, and while nerves bubbled in my chest, anxiety wasn’t fighting its way to the surface.
“Honestly, please let me.” I released the plates and nodded, his palm moving away. “I’ll finish up in the morning.”
“Okay.” I backed up a step.
The room remained quiet a few moments, the only sound coming from the hum of the huge refrigerator. While I wasn’t uncomfortable, I had no idea of etiquette, overthinking every move, every gesture. All too aware of how ridiculous I was being didn’t exactly help the situation. It wasn’t even as though I could rationalize by comparing how I’d behaved over the years when I’d found myself in similar situations with women. There had never been a situation like this.
I’d had sex with a couple of women over the years—each time I’d been drunk. It had been sloppy, awkward, and had been the exact opposite of what I’d truly wanted to be doing. Living a lie took its toll, just like it had forced me into situations I hadn’t wanted to be in, and that included behaving like an arrogant prick, and worse, lashing out at Carter, the only openly gay man I’d ever worked with.
It was only right that my life had cracked right open after hurting him so badly.
“I’ve lost you again.” The soft, smooth voice of Davis filtered through me, and I focused on him.
“Yeah.” I flushed. “I keep doing that recently.”
With a purse of his lips, Davis reached for his keys, his eyes still remaining on me. “Something we can chat about in the future.” He stepped past me and made his way to the doorway. The smile on his face as he looked over his shoulder was sweet and reassuring. “When you’re ready.” He winked, and I all but swooned at the gesture.
Quickly pulling myself together and telling my hardening dick to chill the hell out, I followed Davis out. Once he’d locked up, we headed down the street together, aware we were going in the direction of my place, but with no idea where he lived.
Davis’s snort drew my attention to him. I glanced over, and he was looking at his watch. Barely anyone seemed to wear a watch these days. The thought popped into my head, completely insignificant, but I liked that he did. “It’s not even ten.” A laugh fell from his lips and he angled to look at me.
My mouth curved into a smile. “I imagine you’re tired though, right, and barely get time to yourself.” It didn’t take a genius to work that out. As well as owning his own business and working full-time, he was also a single dad. I couldn’t imagine that would leave much room for anything else. The thought gave me pause. So why did he want to invest time in me?
“True that.” As if on cue, Davis yawned and covered his mouth. “Shit, sorry,” he said, just as a second yawn broke free.
Inevitably, I yawned after him and laughed. “They’re contagious.”
A snort was his answer.
“Do you live in this direction?” Living just a few doors away from Carter and Tanner, I figured he knew where I lived.
“No. The other side of town. It’s not far.”
My heart stumbled as a shot of adrenaline raced through me. He was walking me home. That’s what it meant, right? No one had ever walked me home, but then why would they have? On the bullshit dates I’d had over the years to ensure I portrayed the dutiful son expected of me, I’d dropped the women home as soon as I could get away with it. Even my college friends and some work colleagues I saw socially never made the effort, apart from perhaps me being dropped off first when sharing a cab.
Yet again, another simple and seemingly insignificant thing made it impossible not to like Davis even more. Not that there was anything wrong with that
, I didn’t think. He had a child, but we could be friends—at least to start. Things didn’t have to be complicated, and for the first time ever, I saw the possibility of a future, one that didn’t involve hiding and getting blown in the restroom of seedy gay bars, which admittedly happened once.
“I really should take advantage of having no responsibilities tonight and not having to deal with a 5:00 a.m. wake-up call from Libby, but the house feels crazy empty.” Davis looked at me as we crossed the street and continued on. “Is it all levels of pathetic if I crash at Tanner’s?”
Amused, I shook my head. “Not pathetic. A bit crazy for not taking the opportunity to sleep in maybe, but I get it.”
“You do?” He paused the briefest of moments before saying, “Ah, your sister, right? Did you say she was a single mom?”
I hadn’t. I’d been too distracted by learning more about Davis’s situation. “No.” I shook my head then looked both ways as we crossed another street. While the night sky was pitch-black, a splattering of stars lit the way, and the moon was high and bright. It was one of the things I liked about living in this small town. It had none of the light pollution of cities. “She may as well be though.”
“Oh?” Davis’s arm brushed mine. The touch was brief, but I felt the moment’s warmth.
“Yeah, I’m sure she would’ve divorced Stan if it wasn’t for my dad. Her husband is a waste of space and does jack shit to help her or the kids. Plus he’s away all the time.” Guilt slammed into me. I’d been a crappy brother. I loved my sister, and especially my nephews, but I hadn’t been present in their lives. Not only was that due to the distance of the past few months, but when I had lived just a short thirty-minute journey away, I’d been so involved with my own issues, not only my sexuality but keeping as far away from my dad as I could manage without being called out for it, that I hadn’t supported her either.
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