by Tara Lain
“News flash. You still can.”
He smiled and started cleaning carrots. “I was a freshman in high school, and there was a big talent contest in our town for some TV show or other.”
“What town?”
“Outside Portland.”
Ellie nodded and kept cooking chicken in a big pan.
Jerry said, “My brother dragged me to the high school to sing. I threw up, but at least I didn’t do it on the stage.” He chuckled. “Somehow I managed to perform by pretending I was somebody else. Someone cool and exciting. I called him Jet in my head.” He shrugged. “I won. An agent who’d come to the show to support his nephew saw me perform. He came backstage where Fred was trying to keep me from passing out. They talked. The guy was Herb Flores. He’s still my agent.”
“What happened with the TV show?”
“Nothing. I never signed a contract because Herb already had a potential record deal going.”
Ellie said, “The stories always say you made Herb Flores a rich man.”
“I guess he made me one too.” He stared at his shoes again. “The only thing was, I never wanted to be rich. Don’t misunderstand, I’m not complaining. Rich can be a pain in the ass, but it’s—nice. It just wasn’t ever a goal. The famous part was the bitch.” He shuddered and put down the knife. “A little bit famous is fun. Having a few people know your name and say they like your voice makes you smile. But I can’t imagine any person who’s ever been really famous actually likes it. They may appreciate what goes with the fame—the influence, money, power, whatever—but the famous part, the ‘no privacy, you don’t own your life’ part? No. Not many people like that when they have it.” He picked up the knife again and kept chopping.
Ellie glanced at Gabe with compassion flooding her eyes. “So you gave up your privacy and the life you wanted to have a whole lot of stuff you don’t care about?”
He shrugged and swiped chopped carrot into the big salad bowl. “When I started, I was too young to have any idea what I wanted, so I guess I learned by trying out what I don’t want.”
“If you could do anything you wanted, what would it be?”
He glanced at Ellie with the shy smile. “I’d teach music.”
“Really?” Her smile radiated. “That’s what I want to do too.”
“So the piano’s yours?”
She nodded. “I also play guitar.”
“Maybe we can play together?”
Her eyes got huge at that thought, and she quickly turned back to the chicken, which was smelling heavenly. “What made you want to teach?”
“My father was a teacher. I guess I always liked that idea.”
Gabe asked, “He’s no longer living?”
“Oh no. Both my parents are alive. But he retired when I bought them a new house. Now both of them mostly play golf and go boating in their retirement community in Florida.” He gave a wry grin. “Turns out he didn’t love teaching as much as I thought.”
It took a few minutes to get all the food on the card table, and then they sat to eat.
Jerry said, “I feel like I deprived you of your beautiful table, but I’m not giving it back. So next time, we’ll all eat at my house.” He glanced up uneasily, seeming to realize what he’d said.
Ellie put her hand on his arm, easy in such close quarters. “I can’t wait to see your house. Dad talks about it all the time.”
Jerry smiled and glanced at Gabe.
Gabe said, “Ellie’s especially anxious to swim in the pool.”
“How about tomorrow?”
Gabe laughed. “It’s pretty cold to swim.”
“I told the pool man to turn on the heater.”
Gabe said, “Holy crap, uh, cow. Do you know how much that costs?”
Jerry glanced up through his lashes, and Gabe snorted. It just wasn’t possible to keep remembering that this shy, quiet guy was one of the world’s biggest rock stars—even with his hair hanging down.
They ate quietly for a second. Jerry said, “This is so good.”
Ellie laughed. “Uh, you’ve had too much pizza. This is just mushroom soup on chicken.”
“Will you show me how to make it? I’ve never learned to cook.”
“Sure. It’s dead-on easy.” She chewed. “The thing is, Jerry, if you want to be a teacher, you have to learn how to economize.”
“I do?”
“Um-hum.” She dabbed her lips with her napkin. “If you give up the whole rock-star gig, you can’t keep spending money like water. Much as I hate to say it, you should probably wait until summer to use the pool. That way, you won’t be burning up dollar bills.”
“What if I install solar?”
Her eyebrows went up. “That’s a good idea. Just don’t cut into your savings too much because you’ll need the money later. But solar will cut down on monthly expenses.”
She cut her chicken, and Jerry’s lips twitched. He was definitely trying not to laugh at her bookkeeperish advice. He looked up, and his dual-colored eyes met Gabe’s, sending a jolt of heat into Gabe’s gut.
When they’d finished eating, Gabe said, “Why don’t you two go relax, and I’ll clean up.”
“Thanks, Dad, but I can help.” She glanced at Jerry. Maybe the prospect of making small talk with her idol seemed a little overwhelming.
Gabe waved a hand. “No, go on. You made most of the food.”
Jerry pointed at the piano. “Come on. We’ll give each other lessons.”
For the next half an hour, while Gabe took more time than he really needed to scrub the frying pan and put the plates and flatware in the dishwasher, the sounds of music and laughter came from the living room.
Gabe sidled around the corner and watched them. They’d been playing a piece that was probably a Jet Gemini song, then segued into “Chopsticks” and practically bumped each other off the bench reaching across to play higher and higher notes. When they were laughing so hard they couldn’t find the keys anymore, they stopped, and Ellie moved over and collapsed on the couch.
Jerry rested his fingers lightly on the piano keys, swayed, and started to play.
Gabe mouthed, “Holy shit.”
Jerry’s fingers flew across the old piano keys like they were a single entity, a piano-playing machine.
Ellie sat, eyes wide, mouth open, for the minutes that Jerry played. Then he just stopped.
Ellie leaped up. “That was Liszt. Oh my God, you played Liszt!”
Jerry turned and nodded. “Transcendental Études. Just showing off.”
She pressed a hand to her heart. “Show off anytime. My God, you can play like that? You should, like, join the symphony or something.”
He laughed. “Too much competition.”
She nodded. “Right. And nobody else wants to be a Grammy-winning rock star.”
Gabe watched them both and let air slip between his lips. Whether he was a rock star or played with the symphony, Jerry Castor was so far out of Gabe’s league, he might as well have lived on a different planet.
Oh well, not like this is a relationship.
After sipping some tea and eating another ice cream sandwich, Gabe said, “I forgot to ask how you got to ImproveMart today.”
“I drove.” Jerry took a healthy bite of his dessert.
“Shall I take you back to pick up your car?”
“Oh.” He finally seemed to grasp that he had to leave. “Uh, I guess so.”
Ellie shook her head vehemently. “No way. What if the paparazzi are waiting for him by his car?”
Gabe raised an eyebrow. “They didn’t see Jerry’s car. They did see my truck. They’re more likely to find him if he’s riding with me.”
Ellie got that master planner look on her face. “Okay, you take Jerry home. Tomorrow, I drive to work with you, get Jerry’s car, and take it to him. Then he can drive me to school.”
“Even for you, that plan’s a little overworked, don’t you think?”
She turned to him and gave him big eyes. “No. It works
perfectly.” She did everything except wink. He felt half-embarrassed and half-excited at her heavy-handed manipulation. With a turn, she looked at Jerry. “Right, Jerry?”
He grinned, fished in his pocket, and produced a set of keys. “Blue Prius.”
“Oh good. They’re easy to drive. I’ll find it and bring it to you at about seven, okay? I have to be at school at eight twenty tomorrow.”
“Deal.”
“You guys better get going.” She yawned elaborately. “I have to get to bed since I’m getting up extra early, so night, Dad. Sleep well.” She kissed his cheek, and he could actually feel it warm with a blush. Then she turned to Jerry. “I’m glad the reporters chased you because this way we got to find out you’re not an asshole, and I’m so glad you’re not, because that would have been way disappointing.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “See you tomorrow.” She waggled her fingers and disappeared down the hall.
Gabe shook his head. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m not.”
Gabe didn’t dare ask what he meant.
Chapter Sixteen
IN NOT quite relaxed silence, Gabe and Jerry got into the truck and headed for Ashland. To cover the quiet, Gabe turned on the radio, then flipped it off, because coals to Newcastle after all. Questions pushed at Gabe’s lips.
“Can I ask you something?”
Jerry made a funny sound, half-laugh and half-gasp, in his throat. “I wish you would.”
“Well, I saw some pictures of you online.”
“Of Jet?”
“Yes.” Gabe cleared his throat. “You were at a club sitting with your arms around two women.”
“Yes.” That word conveyed a world of strain.
“So are you gay, bisexual, or not out? I mean, I got the idea you were gay, but when I saw the picture, I realized I might have assumed too much.”
“I’m gay.” He blew breath between his lips. “Jet isn’t entirely out. There are a lot of rumors, but he, uh, I never have a boyfriend, so nobody can really assume. I’m seen with a lot of women, but I never imply that one of them is my girlfriend. The press has even started guessing that I’m asexual.”
“Why don’t you ever have a boyfriend?”
He shrugged. “Not fair to anybody. Some guy who’d hook up with Jet wouldn’t want me, the real me, and chances are I wouldn’t want him. I’ve had some hookups, but the men never know who I am, and it’s just for sex, so nobody loses.” He glanced over. “What about you?”
“For me, life’s all about Ellie.”
“She seems to want you to, uh, have a boyfriend.” His voice rose in half a question.
“Ya think?” They both laughed, and that relieved the tension a little. “She wants me to be happy. The trouble is, her mother’s new fiancé is a homophobe who’d love to find a reason to take Ellie away from her perverted father.”
“Fuck that. He can’t do that, can he?”
“Probably not. Ellie chose to live with me. But I don’t want to give the courts any reason to question my fitness as a father. I always figured if the neighbors saw guys going in and out of my house, that’d be bad.”
“So no boyfriends? Not even the guy I saw you with at the restaurant?”
“No. That was my first date with him, and likely last. Some friends fixed us up. He’s a college professor. Doesn’t need to be dating a blue-collar dude like me.”
The awkward silence struck again; then Jerry blurted out, “Do you want to go out with him again?”
“What? Oh, no. I told him no thanks, more or less. He’s not my type.”
They reached the top of Mountain Avenue. Gabe made the sharp turn into the driveway and climbed to the top of the hill. When the translucent doors came into view, Gabe hit the button on his visor, and the doors silently slid open.
Jerry chortled. “You left my keys, but you can still get in.”
Gabe said sheepishly, “Yeah. I kind of forgot I programmed your doors into my truck.” He pulled into the garage. “Did you leave any lights on inside?”
“No. I never thought I’d be coming home so late.”
“We can program some motion detectors so they turn on automatically.” Gabe looked toward the door to the inside. “But for now I better check to make sure no asshole photographers are lurking around.”
“Oh, yes, you better check.”
They both sounded like they were reciting a script, and neither of them believed for a half second that some rabid reporter was lying in wait.
Gabe slid out of the truck and heard Jerry behind him. His pulse throbbed so hard he could barely hear. With a press of the button, the garage door closed, leaving them in the timed light on the garage door opener.
Like the mighty hunter, Gabe opened the door to the house, stepped inside, and flipped the light switch beside the door. Jerry came in behind him, so close Gabe could feel his heat and smell his cinnamon scent. They were in a slate-tiled hallway that led from the garage to the mudroom, with doors to the two big extra rooms on one side.
Gabe looked through the first door. “I thought one of these rooms would make a good gym and the other one could be a music studio, but they’d be great as a lot of things.”
“Actually, did you notice the big, barnlike building beside the driveway?”
“Yes. I wondered what it was.”
“It’s mine. I thought about turning it into a music studio. Since it’s separate and private, it shouldn’t bother anyone.” A crease popped between his brows. “But to use it, I’d have to tell people where I am, and right now, nobody knows. Not even Fred.” His inhale was audible. “Anyway, it’s a big building and it’s there, so it can be part of the plans for the property.”
A huge elephant called Is Gabe Still Going to Work on the Property walked into the room. Gabe said, “Good to know.”
Gabe kept moving down the hall, passed the reinforced door that led to the pool equipment, and then walked into the mudroom. The slate floor carried through there, but it was heated so people wouldn’t freeze when they took off their boots or shoes.
They both slid off their shoes, and Gabe led the way into the main part of the house. He flipped on the light in the open hallway and had to smile. The house was really….
“Beautiful,” Jerry breathed the word for him. “Seriously, Gabe, I knew this house had potential, but I never dreamed it could look like this.”
Gabe felt his smile spread. “Look. The countertops.” He walked into the now open kitchen and ran his hands over the silken smoothness of the golden-white quartz.
Jerry pressed a hand against his mouth. “Oh my gosh.” He rushed over and followed the smooth surface with his finger over what they called the waterfall edge—stone cascading in an unbroken surface all the way to the floor. “I love this.”
Suddenly, Jerry whirled and threw his arms around Gabe’s neck. “Thank you. Thank you for this wonderful gift. I’ve never had anything of my own before.”
The simple statement hit Gabe in the gut, and he tightened his arms around Jerry’s slender frame. “My pleasure. You helped me too. Getting to do this project will let me save some money for Ellie’s college.”
Jerry looked up slowly through his lashes in that way he did. He released his arms from Gabe’s neck, which was disappointing. “But you’re not done, right? You’ll keep working. There’s the other building and the patio, and you can’t let anyone besides you oversee the path to the door. No one else would understand how important that pathway is.”
Funny how Jerry understood it. Gabe thought he was the only one.
Jerry’s face got serious. “Please, Gabe. Let me pretend I have a life for a little while longer.”
Hell, what had Jerry ever done for Gabe that wasn’t good? Not his fault he was some rich, famous guy. Gabe nodded.
Jerry’s smile started slow and gathered speed, glittering out of the blue and green eyes. He mouthed, “Thank you.” All it did was focus Gabe’s gaze on those lips that ought to not be so soft and s
ensual looking.
For a second, they just stared at each other.
Gabe’s ulterior motive in checking for paparazzi hung in the air like Kobayashi Maru, the unwinnable scenario from Star Trek: TNG. The man in front of him with the moonlit hair hanging around his near-perfect face could claim to be meek Jerry Castor all he wanted. He looked like Jet Gemini. All Gabe had to do was reach out, but where the hell would that get him? Continuing to work for Jerry was one thing. Following up on the obvious invitation in his eyes….
Jerry snaked out a hand and grabbed Gabe by the neck. “You’re thinking too hard.” He closed those too-soft lips over Gabe’s, and they weren’t too soft at all. Just right.
In fact, everything about Jerry was perfect. The right height so they could press together and their erections rub with perfect friction. The right-shaped ass to fill Gabe’s palms like they were made to go together. The right soft, seeking tongue exploring Gabe’s mouth while perfect little moans and mewling noises provided the musical accompaniment.
Gabe’s body ate it up like the starving man he was. It was tempting to write this off as getting some desperately needed sex, but he couldn’t fool himself that much. Gabe had been with other men. This was special. Perfect, like he’d thought.
Jerry climbed him, one leg wrapped around Gabe’s hip and both arms tightening around his neck. Gabe slid an arm under Jerry’s ass and hoisted him so both his legs could circle around Gabe’s hips. Oh shit! Jerry started riding him like his favorite merry-go-round animal, sliding up and down so their bulges pressed and throbbed together.
Gabe staggered back so Jerry was pressed against the kitchen counter, but it was too high to sit him on. Instead Gabe used the counter for leverage so he could rut against Jerry’s crotch even harder. Each thrust sent bolts of pleasure lightning from his balls into his cock, which was so hard he could have sold it to Craftsman for their tool chests. From his dick, the electricity seemed to shoot up his spine and explode some piece of his brain.
One goal. Orgasm.
“Oh God, Gabe.” Jerry’s head hung back so his mane of hair brushed the shining counter. His hips bobbed and bumped as Gabe ground against him. So close. So close.