Hearts Repaired

by Caraway Carter

  “Bernard, I’m sorry… and I’m thankful.” He signed the paperwork and took a copy for himself.

  “You can call my old office to get the patient files. I’ve told Esther you’ll be needing them – that’s in the paperwork.” He nodded toward Curtis’ sheaf of papers. “Now, you won’t be able to get hold of me for a while. The boat sails at five-thirty.”

  “The boat?” Curtis asked.

  “I’ve been waiting on a few things. One of them was selling my house.”

  “Please tell me you sold it for much more than you sold this to me.”

  “I did, and I was able to pay up front for a trip around the world. With any luck, I’ll be out to sea when it’s my time.”

  “What?” Curtis stood up.

  Bernard stood up and leaned across the desk to place a hand on Curtis’s. “I was waiting for a diagnosis too. It’s fine, son. I’ve lived a long life. I’ll be heading home with a couple of Cokes to my beautiful lady.” His eyes began to water as he smiled.

  Curtis walked around the desk and pulled the old man into his arms. “Bernard, you were more of a dad than a mentor. I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention.”

  Bernard hugged him back. “No, I didn’t share with you a lot—well, with anyone—and I told my doctor to keep it quiet.”

  “Who else knows?” Curtis stepped back.

  “Marilyn, but she only knows I had the test.” He pulled Curtis along with him. “I’ve sold the old office to a tea shop. Marjorie would love that.”

  “Curtis, these donuts are great; you should get one. Bernard?” Christine smiled as Bernard walked up. She held the tray out to him.

  “No, I’m trying to save as much room as I can for the buffets.” He patted his stomach before he opened his arms. “And I want a hug; the cab should be here soon.”

  Everyone crowded into his arms for a group hug. Then Bernard backed away. “I’ll take those hugs with me.”

  “Where’s your suitcase?” Marilyn asked.

  “I’m not taking one. I’m going with the clothes on my back, and I’ll get something on board the ship,” Bernard smiled.

  “Send us a postcard from every port you land in,” Curtis said.

  Bernard looked at his watch. “You kids have got a place that can be a success, if you just give it the love it needs.” He turned and headed out the door.

  They stood there, not looking at each other, not looking at anything, just staring, and Curtis wished the houseboy was looking in the window at him. It was about the right time.

  Then a phone buzzed across the counter, and they were all startled out of their thoughts.

  “Curtis, it’s yours.” Christine held it up for him.

  He laughed. “Probably the houseboy who lives across the way from me. This is when he always catches me staring.” He looked at the phone. “Nope, not him.”

  “Who is it?” Marilyn looked over his shoulder. “Law!” she shouted with a smile on her face.

  “Hey, that’s my ear!” Curtis said, pulling back from her and rubbing his ear.

  “I hope you see him again. You were much happier when you were dating him,” Christine said as she set up her desk. She pulled a stack of filing frames from another box, and placed them on the counter.

  “I think you should contact him,” Marilyn said to Curtis as he stared at his phone at the words I’m sorry.

  “I don’t know,” Curtis said. Inside, he was dancing. Can we talk? Are you kidding? Of course we can talk! But part of him was also nervous. What if he hurts me again? “Maybe it was just a fling, and I should let it end.”

  “You’ll never know if you don’t give it a chance,” Christine said.

  “I’m nervous about saying or doing the wrong thing.” Curtis slid the phone into his pocket. “I saw him in a way he wasn’t ready for me to see.”

  “It’s not your fault, though. He sent you a text that says I’m sorry,” Marilyn pointed out. “His reaction is on him.”

  “Maybe,” Curtis said, looking at the text again.

  “Look, you don’t have to marry him, but dammit, explore more of your relationship.” Marilyn drained her coffee. “I never saw you that happy before he came along.”

  “But we had a fight…” Curtis said.

  “Fights help the relationship along, Curtis. It’s making up that comes next, not running away,” Christine piped up and took a bite of her donut. “Besides, he already did the running part. Now you need to get him back.”

  “When did you get your degree in psychology?” Marilyn asked, eyebrows raised.

  “I’m a nurse. It comes with the job.” Christine looked at him again. “Well? Put up or shut up, Dr. Fielding. You have a text waiting.”

  He grabbed the phone from the his pocket. “Yes, Nurse.” Ostentatiously, he flipped to his text window and sent a text. “Thanks, ladies. I’ll let you know what happens. But—” he stopped in mid-thought. “Depending on how tonight goes, I probably won’t be able to get the files tomorrow. Can you arrange a pickup with Bernard’s office manager, Christine?”

  “Of course. Now get out of here.” She stood up and pointed him out the door.

  20

  Lawrence

  Lawrence got the text as they were having lunch in Palisades Park, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It was nearing sundown, and he looked at Ned. “He contacted me.”

  “Who? Curtis?” Ned took a bite of the falafel and stared at the ring in the box in front of them. “Uncle Larry, you’ve got to go after him. What’s it say? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”

  “It says ‘Meet me at your place. Heat up the Jacuzzi.’” Law blushed.

  “Tell him yes!” Ned commanded. “Ask him when.”

  Law typed slowly. Yes. When?

  Curtis texted right back.

  “What did he say?” Ned asked impatiently.

  “What are you doing now?” Law looked at him.

  “Curtis asked what you’re doing right now?”

  “Yeah. I’ll tell him I’m out to lunch with you.”

  Ned smirked. “Well, you are. But tell him you’ll be home by sundown.”

  Law looked at his phone. “It’s four-thirty. I’ve got to take you back home now. I’ll never make it.”

  “I’ll text David to come get me.” Ned motioned to Law’s phone. “Give it to me.”

  “What? I thought David hated the Pacific Coast Highway.” He handed over his phone.

  “He does, but I’ll tell him to get me so that you can make up with Curtis.” He tapped out a text on Lawrence’s phone.

  “Oh, God. What did you say?” Lawrence stood up and looked over Ned’s shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, I wasn’t too descriptive. I just told him to meet you in the Jacuzzi at ten.”

  “Ten—that’s so long from now. I could drive you home.” Lawrence paced behind Ned.

  “No, you’ll go home, make that great spaghetti you used to make for the family, and have it ready for him,” Ned grinned.

  “Ned, that spaghetti was from an old Italian restaurant,” Law hung his head.

  “I know, Mom told me when I wanted her to make it. Now, you’ll have time to make the kitchen look a mess, and be relaxing in the hot tub when he arrives.” Ned held his phone up for him. “Get out of here, old man. Make us happy when we get married.”

  “We never found a place for you.” Lawrence looked at the big OK in the message and grinned.

  “I think we did, but I need to run it past David. Now get out of here.” He got up and hugged Lawrence.

  Lawrence got home in record time, after picking up the bread, a spaghetti special, and a half order of lasagna from the mom-and-pop Italian place on Atlantic. He piled it in the kitchen and looked at the time. He had roughly three hours left.

  His phone dinged in his pocket.

  Lawrence looked at the text and smiled as he walked to the Jacuzzi and flipped the switch. He stretched, looking at the fading sky. We’ll fix it. I’ll fix it. That’s what I do, right? I’
m a mechanic.

  Then there was a knock at the gate.

  Who…?

  He turned to see Curtis holding a sign in one hand and two bottles of Coke in the other. The sign said I’m sorry.

  “I’m the one who should apologize.” Lawrence walked to the gate, pulled it open, and hugged Curtis.

  “I shouldn’t have laughed,” Curtis said into his shoulder.

  “I shouldn’t have lied,” Lawrence said into Curtis’ neck.

  “All right, we were both at fault.” Curtis placed the sign and the sodas on the patio table. “I take forty percent responsibility.”

  “No, I’m absolutely eighty percent responsible for this.” He showed his watch to Curtis. “We said ten. I haven’t had time to get dinner together.”

  “I’ve been sitting in my car, up the street, since I got your text this afternoon,” Curtis admitted. “I saw you come home. What was in the bags? Groceries?”

  Lawrence paused and sighed. “No more lies. I bought dinner. It’s in containers, they’re on the kitchen counter, and I’m a mechanic.”

  “And I’m a doctor,” Curtis shrugged. “Nice to meet you?”

  They looked at each other sheepishly.

  “Can I know what the thing is with you and doctors?” Curtis asked. “I’m going to guess it was personal.”

  Lawrence sighed. “I… When I was younger, I was with a guy who was a doctor. He was a surgeon, and his name was Jeffrey,” Lawrence said.

  “Jeffrey Gibson?” Curtis slid a hand into Law’s. “I know that asshole.”

  “When he found out…” Lawrence paused and did a double take. “Wait, how do you know him?” He searched Curtis’s eyes, as though they’d show him a picture.

  “I, too, made the mistake of dating him for a while.” Curtis pulled Law into his arms, leaving a soft kiss on his lips. “Go on.”

  “When he found out I was a mechanic, he treated me like shit because of my greasy fingernails, and he told me that I stank of the garage.”

  Curtis slid his hand down Lawrence’s arm and gripped his fingers as he continued speaking.

  “He told me he wished I’d make something of myself, to prove to him that I was a valuable partner. Needled me about not completing or even entering college.” Lawrence rested his head on Curtis’s shoulder. His voice shook as he continued. “So, I had to hide everything about my life. I was so into him, I’d leave early to shower three times, to make sure I didn’t have any trace of foul fluids.”

  Curtis wiped a tear from Lawrence’s cheek.

  “One day he came into the shop like you did, and I was working on an earlier-model Roadster.” He fell silent. His throat worked, Adam’s apple bobbing. “He…” He stopped talking again. “This is hard.”

  Curtis kissed him. “Let it out, Law. You’re safe here.” He wrapped his arms around Lawrence, held him like he’d been held the night of the accident.

  “He told me he never wanted to see me again, that I was just some dirty trade he’d picked up by mistake.” Lawrence let out a terrible sob. “Dammit, why does it still hurt so much?”

  “I think it’s because we put so much faith into one person, but didn’t know them as well as we should.” Curtis held Lawrence until the tears dried up, then pulled him toward the house. “He made me pretend to be his dirty trade. I could never be myself around him. If it wasn’t him picking me up off a street corner, it was him pulling me into the custodial closet for a quick fuck, when I had just started interning at Memorial.” It was Curtis’s turn to get sad and silent.

  Lawrence looked at him. “We’re better than he’ll ever be.” He stood in front of Curtis, forgetting the food, the Jacuzzi, and the sodas. He pulled Curtis into the bedroom and stopped at the foot of the bed.

  Curtis leaned forward into Lawrence’s kiss. “Clearly, Jeffrey didn’t know what a great thing he was losing.”

  Lawrence unbuttoned Curtis’s shirt, leaving a kiss on his exposed chest as the shirt was opened. He trailed his hands down the arms and fingers he’d fallen for.

  “He’s out of our lives, but I want all of you in mine.” Lawrence’s tongue swirled around Curtis’s nipple as he deftly unbuckled his belt. Lawrence squatted in front of him as he drew the pants down.

  Curtis tugged on his shoulders and pulled him onto the bed. “Law, I do too.”

  As they fell, with Curtis on top, Lawrence touched those beautiful lips and moved in for a lingering kiss.

  Lawrence wrapped his arms around Curtis and rolled over quickly, and they switched places so that Curtis now was on the bottom. “I want something more, young man,” Lawrence teased as his fingers slipped into the elastic waistband and pulled Curtis’s shorts as he moved down.

  Drawing on all the things he’d learned from his good doctor, he grasped the dick at the base, the moans above driving him on. Lawrence took old tricks he’d used before, taking Curtis to the edge, licking around the head and engulfing all of him. He felt Curtis’s legs buck, and the moans changed from high-pitched to low. And Lawrence knew when to stop everything and hold the base of Curtis’s cock tight to hold him back.

  “Law… please, you’ve got to let me cum. This is driving me crazy,” Curtis whined.

  “You sure?” Lawrence kissed the head of Curtis’s cock and pumped once, twice, and just as he saw Curtis’s face contort, he held tight one more time.

  “Law! You said you would,” Curtis whimpered.

  “Cur, let’s get this straight. I don’t think whine goes with anything here except for cheese,” Lawrence smirked.

  “Law, bad joke—may I please cum?” Curtis panted.

  “That’s better.” Lawrence slid his mouth down the length once more, rising to lick around the head, and pumped once, twice, and then Curtis shot all over Lawrence’s chest and face. He fell on the bed beside Curtis. “I’m exhausted.”

  “You’re exhausted, I’m…” Curtis leaned forward, wiped the cum off the gray beard in front of his face, and slid his fingers into Lawrence’s mouth. “I’m… I’m in love.”

  “Love?” Lawrence looked him up and down, his eyes lingering on “down.”

  “Yeah, I know I’m moving fast, but I love everything about us.” Curtis caressed Lawrence’s shoulders, pulling him over his body like a blanket, kissing and licking and sucking his tongue.

  When they separated for air, Lawrence said, “I’ve loved you since you stole my briefs.” He stretched. “Is this going to be my life? I can’t believe it.”

  “Why not?” Curtis asked.

  “Because I’m just a simple guy, a mechanic. I’m not much of anything.” He sighed.

  Curtis glared at him. “Shut up.”

  Law frowned. “Why? It’s the tru—”

  Curtis frowned back, his fingertips pressed against Lawrence’s mouth. His voice was stern and completely serious. “Don’t ever let me catch you with that in your mouth again.”

  Lawrence’s frown became puzzlement. “What?”

  “Jeffrey’s voice,” Curtis said. He slid his hands on either side of Lawrence’s. “These hands get into the body of the automobile, like my own hands get into a person. We repair, we fix, we bring back to life that which is suffering. Honestly, if you were just any mechanic, do you think you’d have been in business as long as you have?”

  Lawrence lay back and stared at the ceiling. “I’ve never thought of it that way. All this time.”

  “Well, you better start,” Curtis said.

  “Or you’ll what?” Lawrence asked.

  Curtis looked thoughtful. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Lawrence said. He stretched again, luxuriating in it, and moved to the side. “Are you hungry?”

  Curtis tried to block a yawn, then gave in to it. “No,” he admitted. “Just tired.”

  “Then let’s get some sleep,” Lawrence said, taking Curtis in his arms. “The food can be reheated.”

  Curtis drifted off, and Lawrence lay awake a little longer, listenin
g to Curtis’s slow, even breathing. As sleep dragged him down as well, Lawrence thought, He was right. I don’t know the end—just the beginning.

  THE END

  A Note from Caraway

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for picking up the first book in the Professions of Love series, Hearts Repaired. Some of you may remember the first version of the book titled The Doctor & The Mechanic. Such a long title for such a short book. I knew there was more to the story I needed to tell, and that’s why nearly four years later, I’ve expanded the book.

  What was once a 17k novella is now a 49k novel. I’ve loved exploring more about Curtis and Law, and am looking forward to releasing more books of their friends’ lives as well.

  I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed putting it together. It would be great if you would leave a review wherever you purchased this novel. It helps other readers find my books.

  If you’re interested in reading short stories about characters, cut portions from books, upcoming releases and learning more about me, then please join my newsletter.

  I’ve included an excerpt from Book 2, Hearts Redesigned, after this letter. A hot-shot architect. A burly barista. A second chance they didn’t see coming.

  Thank you,

  CC

  Hearts Redesigned

  Read an excerpt from Book 2

  Something about the man laughing into his fifth glass of wine made Brodie straighten the imaginary tie around his neck and slide his hand down his shirt to remove any wrinkles. He realized Vanessa was snapping her fingers in front of his face.

  “I know it’s a slow night, but do you think you could focus on me?” Vanessa’s voice was like a strong cup of coffee.

  Brodie chuckled. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”