Leaning Into Touch (Leaning Into Series Book 4)

by Lane Hayes

  “The light?” I asked, squinting at him in a way that clearly let him know I thought he might have a screw loose.

  “Aye. That very light. I moved cautiously toward it and found myself staring for a long time. Long enough that someone finally came forward and asked if they might help me.”

  “What did you say?”

  “No thanks. I told the salesman I was just looking.” Finn winked again then hooked his leg over mine and drew me closer. “Turns out I was at the Restoration Hardware on Broadway. Damn, those stores are dark as hell on the inside. Still, it was a nice respite from the cold.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. “That was…clever. Ridiculous but kind of clever. I’ll never look at that lamp quite the same way again. Is that an example of the Irish gift of gab?”

  “Some might say so…yes. When you live in a cold, rainy place where the best form of entertainment involves a pint or three with a rowdy group at the local pub, you learn to hold your own with a bit of malarkey.”

  We shared a smile as we ran our hands over each other. I liked the playful look in his eyes. It made me feel safe and carefree like we were kids telling tales under a blanket fort. Of course, I had to ruin it.

  “So, what’s your story?”

  The impish gleam faded immediately and took on a guarded quality that had the same effect as an invisible shield sliding between us. I pulled my hand from his hip and studied him warily. This was the part of him I’d never been able to breach. This was the same “something” that kept us from being more than fuck buddies a year ago. It wasn’t easy to assure my friends Finn wasn’t an opportunistic asshole who was using me for sex and possible insider info when he so expertly held me at bay.

  But I wasn’t the same man I was last year. Sure, my room smelled like sex and I loved the feel of his warm body pressed against mine more than I wanted to admit, but I was under no illusion tonight was more than a physical release we could both rationalize given the odd circumstance that led us here in the first place. There was no harm asking. If he didn’t want to answer, I certainly wasn’t going to lose any sleep.

  Besides, I was curious. Very curious.

  “Well?” I prodded.

  Finn let out a bemused huff and glanced away for a moment before splaying his hands over my ass and nuzzling my chin. I groaned when he slipped his knees between my legs and pushed me onto my back, flattening himself over me so our newly interested cocks rubbed against each other. If he was trying to throw me off stride, he was doing an excellent job.

  “My story comes in two parts, Joshy. Part one, Ireland. Part two, America. They’re separate and distinct. The only thing that’s the same is I like cock just as much now as I did as a younger man. The rest…gone.” He rolled his hips suggestively and nipped my bottom lip. I was distracted for sure, but I noticed that his brogue had thickened, rendering part of his statement contradictory at best. “What about you?”

  “I like cock too.” My voice hitched when Finn set his hand over my throat and licked my jaw like a feral cat.

  “Good. That’s all that matters tonight. Leave the rest alone and just…touch me. That’s it, love.”

  I became a melted gooey mess when he called me “love” and he knew it. He was purposefully diverting my attention, using his talented mouth and strong hands to keep me in the moment. It worked. I sucked his tongue while I stroked him. Then I lifted my hips when he massaged my entrance with a featherlight sensation that made my spine tingle and my vision blur. I could barely remember my name by the time he rolled another condom on and drove inside me. I buried my head in the crevice of his shoulder and held on tightly while he moved like thunder, slamming into me relentlessly.

  It wasn’t until he came apart or maybe it was when my orgasm hit me a few seconds later that I sensed the ghosts following him. It was as if they were in the room with us, observing our tangled limbs with mild interest. I was known for having an active imagination, and I couldn’t help wondering what his demons represented. Ireland or America or whatever piece of his story pulled him from one country to another. I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his damp forehead. My head should have been jumbled with worry about my dad but Finn distracted me. I was firmly with him…and his ghosts. And suddenly, I had to know his story. Maybe not tonight, but soon.

  5

  Of course, when I woke up the next morning, Finn was gone. I’d heard him gathering his things before dawn and willed myself not to stir. It wasn’t easy. The memory of raiding the freezer for ice cream at midnight was still fresh. We’d sat side by side in our boxer briefs on the counter, passing the pint of Ben & Jerry’s between us like old friends. Or old lovers. Conversation was light and sweet. I thanked him again for putting a good word in with Dante and told him about my upcoming lunch interview. He’d smiled and adeptly switched the topic to an art exhibit he’d recently seen in New York City. And suddenly, it was as though time stood still. It had felt so…right to be with him and I hadn’t wanted it to end.

  Breakfast in bed or even a cup of coffee the next morning sounded amazing but if he felt the need to move on, I wasn’t going to stop him. I was grateful for Finn’s presence last night. He was exactly what I’d needed to remain calm in the face of an unexpected familial twist. Sure, a greedy part of me wished he was still with me, but alas, I was on my own. I just wished it didn’t feel quite so lonely.

  Thankfully, I had the perfect diversion lined up less than two hours later. I knew I’d eventually spill everything to my friends, but I had no intention of blasting my dad’s big reveal first thing that morning. Not on a beautiful spring day when the Bloody Marys were flowing and everyone was in a mellow mood. Blue skies, a mild easterly wind, and the silly banter of old college buddies was exactly what the doctor ordered.

  Well, old friends and Wes. But he was cool. He had all of us by fourteen years but he fit in nicely. He was laid-back and friendly and on boating excursions, he was the first to volunteer to hoist the jib or whatever other sailor-y task Zane usually pawned off on Nick or Grant or me. Sometimes I’d catch Nick observing his boyfriend and Zane with a bewildered air as though he didn’t understand how a former surfer dude and a winery owner could find common ground on open water. On a recent outing, I pinched his arm and asked him why he was staring at them. Nick shrugged before answering in an awed tone.

  “He always surprises me.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tease him about being in love and maybe sing an off-key round of “Nick and Wes sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g” like a grade school punk intent on getting under his skin. But the taunting words wouldn’t come. The truth got in the way. Nick was in love. I was happy for him but if I was completely honest with myself, I was also a little jealous.

  I sipped the last of my Bloody Mary and let my gaze wander from Zane and Wes engaged in animated conversation at the helm to Eric mixing cocktails at the built-in table a few feet away from me. Then I adjusted my sunglasses and turned my attention toward the view of Sausalito in the distance. It was too far to see clearly, but I imagined the boardwalk was crowded with tourists holding hands and stopping to take selfies with the San Francisco skyline and Alcatraz in the background. The daydream morphed and became Finn and me. I could almost feel the warmth of his hand in mine. Like last night when he pulled my arms above my head and laced our fingers together as he moved inside me. The gentle caress of his thumb against my palm juxtaposed to the insistent pumping motion of his hips. Rough but sweet. Firm and then tender. A tantalizing combination I couldn’t resist and—

  “Refill?” Nick bumped my elbow before snatching my empty glass away and replacing it with a fresh drink.

  “Uh…yeah. Thanks.” I took the glass and immediately scowled when the red liquid sluiced over the rim and down my wrist.

  Nick chuckled as he handed me a napkin. “Sorry. I thought you had it. You’re daydreaming this morning. Did you meet someone hot after your date with your dad last night?” I hesitated a beat too long and Nick
pounced. “You did! Nice work, Josh. Tell us all about it.”

  “All about what?” Eric asked, flopping onto the bench next to me.

  “Josh got laid last night,” Nick pronounced loudly.

  I snorted in amusement when Zane and Wes raised their glasses in a toast before resuming their conversation about wind speed on the Bay.

  Eric nudged my arm and smiled. “How did it go?”

  “Um…you mean dinner?” I asked.

  “No, he means, where did you go after dinner, who did you screw, and did you exchange numbers or was it a one-off”—Nick paused to make a crude gesture with his fist—“kind of thing?”

  “Uh…” I stalled.

  “Oh shit. Please don’t tell me you hooked up with Finn again.” Nick flattened his palm against his forehead dramatically and glanced toward the heavens in exasperation.

  “Jesus Josh. Did you?” Eric gaped at me with dismay.

  I glanced between them and…panicked.

  “I—my dad came out to me last night. He’s gay,” I blurted.

  Okay, this wasn’t how I’d intended to tell my friends, but I didn’t want to talk about Finn. I knew how they felt. I also knew I was an idiot with a ridiculous crush I couldn’t seem to shake. Rehashing my family’s newest drama was infinitely preferable to being chastised for being a fool.

  Silence.

  Waves rolled and lapped against the starboard side, the breeze batted the sails playfully, but everyone on the boat froze. All eyes were on me and yeah, everyone wore the same incredulous expression.

  “What the fuck?” Zane asked, finally breaking the awkward pause. “Are you serious?”

  “Why would I make that up?” I countered before launching into a brief account of my dinner with Dad. I also included the brief discussion I’d had with my mother mere hours ago when she’d confirmed that she’d known about my dad and had simply encouraged us to talk and get the truth out there.

  “Damn. That’s…wild,” Nick said in an awestruck tone.

  “I know. The fact that they’ve kept it under wraps for so long is what gets me. And it shouldn’t. It’s so typical of my family.”

  “Families are weird as hell,” Zane agreed. “Sometimes I think I’m lucky it was just my mom and me, dude. All that extra baggage is heavy.”

  “Your surfer side is showing, babe.” Eric cast an affectionate grin at his husband before turning to me. “How did your dad seem?” he asked.

  “Great. He’s happy and my mom isn’t freaked out at all. I think her baking anxiety the other day had more to do with my impending reaction. She’s known for eons. Which means I’m the only one who’s having palpitations over this. Of course, my sisters will too, but…whatever. Maybe they won’t. I don’t know.”

  “So who’s the lucky guy?” Nick asked.

  “Lars Olsen. Do you know him? Finn told me owns Green Design Construction. Isn’t that the firm you used to build EN Tech’s headquarters?”

  Eric and Nick rounded on me in disbelief. Nick started to speak but Eric held his hand up to stop him.

  “GDC built EN Tech and a few of our satellite offices. We know Lars well. He’s a good man.”

  “You know him too, don’t you, Wes?” Nick asked his boyfriend.

  “I do. He’s a great guy,” Wes assured me.

  “Good to know.” I glanced out to the more turbulent ocean beyond the Golden Gate Bridge.

  “Can I make a suggestion?” Eric asked in a soft voice.

  “Hmm?”

  “Meet him.”

  I sighed heavily and nodded. “Yeah. I suppose I have to.”

  “You don’t ‘have to’ do anything, but I know you, Josh. You love your dad and when you say he’s happy, that matters to you. But you don’t know Lars. There has to be something special between them if your dad was willing to brave coming out after spending years in the closet. Seeing them together might help you understand,” Eric said.

  “You’re right.” I stirred my drink absently with a piece of celery.

  “One more thing. Finn—”

  “No. We aren’t doing this.” I slapped my hand against the cushion and took a giant gulp of my Bloody Mary. If I wasn’t held captive in the middle of the Bay, I would have walked away from my well-meaning friends. I knew I was an idiot. I didn’t require confirmation.

  Nick grabbed my sleeve then lowered his Aviators and leaned into my space. “We are doing this. If you’re going to mess around with Finn, you should know a couple of things I’m sure he’s neglected to mention.”

  I yanked my arm away, intending to tell him to fuck off. Instead, I heard myself ask, “Like what?”

  “He’ll screw anything on two legs and—”

  “That’s not true,” I argued. “You only know him from work. You don’t know anything about his personal life.”

  Eric held up his hand before Nick could jump in again. “Josh is right. We don’t know him personally in any depth. Professionally, he’s a respected reseller who’s built a successful business over the last few years. He has great contacts and for the most part, he’s well liked.”

  “Exactly. He helped me score a job interview with Dante Crowder, who owns at least three prominent galleries in the city and a few others across the country. Working for Dante would be incredible for my resume.”

  Nick rolled his eyes and huffed impatiently. “That’s nice, but did you know they were lovers?”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. I don’t think they are anymore but that could be because Finn has a girlfriend.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” I retorted.

  “He does. I’ve met her a couple of times. She’s as beautiful as he is gorgeous.”

  “Starla,” I muttered, feeling blindsided for the umpteenth time in two days.

  “Scarlet,” Eric corrected before lowering his voice and adding, “She’s a Brennan.”

  “As in Brennan Enterprises,” Nick piped in. “Her family is loaded and high profile. Finn and Scarlet are photographed on the regular together. There are rumors about them being engaged. And yet…ol’ Finn still seems to get around. He has a talent for charming his way into fortuitous situations for his own gain. If you were anyone else, I’d figure you knew and didn’t care but I know you, Joshy. This isn’t your scene. Back away before you get in over your head.”

  I glared at Nick, though the effect was surely lost behind my Ray Bans. I was torn between wanting to calmly assure my friends that unbeknownst to them, I was a player who knew what I was doing and wanting to yell at them for telling me shit I didn’t want to hear. Finn wasn’t a bad guy, but he wasn’t mine to defend either way. I was just pissed they managed to ruin my post-sex buzz with a fat dose of reality. Was it too much to ask to be allowed to linger in a state of denial for one fucking day?

  Concetti d’Arte was a renowned presence in the art world. Dante Crowder’s father began the family business in the seventies in Milan. The story was that Gary Crowder was a frustrated American artist who turned his attention to the acquisition and selling of others’ work when his own didn’t sell. He ran a small shop in a high rent area where he met the daughter of a wealthy Italian family. They fell in love, married, then moved to the States to expand their business. Backed by his wife’s money and connections and his superior eye for quality, his galleries flourished. Concetti d’Arte was still family owned and operated, but Gary handed over the reins to his only child, Dante, a couple of years ago. Most would agree, it was a genius move. Dante had an even keener feel for what buyers wanted and better yet, he was a true visionary with a passion for art.

  In my field, Dante Crowder was a rock star. I’d read about him and had seen him from afar at one of his galleries and at the museum, but I’d never met him in person. I knew he was forty, average height, nice build, and very good looking. Dark hair, dark eyes, chiseled cheekbones and sun-kissed skin. I’d always been intimidated by the guy. He was handsome, worldly, and knew more about art than I ever would. It made sense that Finn and he
were once lovers, though I hadn’t confirmed Nick’s assertion to be based in fact. Frankly, I didn’t want to know. Finn and I were never going to be anything more than friendly acquaintances. I owed him my thanks for this interview and that was it.

  I smiled at the chic young woman who greeted me at the door.

  “Hello. I’m Josh Sheehan. I’m here to see Mr. Crowder. I have an appointment at—”

  “Josh! Hey, there! Come on in, man.”

  I glanced up and immediately returned Dante’s affable grin and enthusiastic handshake. He was even better looking up close. His artfully mussed hair went well with his designer jeans and slick striped oxford shirt. He oozed sophistication and charm with an ease that reminded me of…well, Finn. Except Finn was rugged and masculine and—bad idea. I had to stay focused and ideally ignore the butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. This was important.

  “Hi. Thank you for meeting me, sir. I appreciate your time.”

  “You’re welcome, you’re welcome, but please call me Dante. I’ll show you around the place in a sec but first…food. I skipped breakfast and if I don’t eat in the next five minutes, I’m either going to pass out or turn into a raving lunatic.”

  I gave an amused half laugh. “That’s fine by me, s—Dante.”

  He winked then motioned me to follow him through the spacious gallery to a back room. I gazed in wonder at the gorgeous contemporary pieces on the stark white walls, admiring the brilliant colors and varying styles of work. A few patrons browsed near the front but otherwise, it was vacant. My idea of heaven.