Speed Dating the Boss

by Sue Brown

  “I know you don’t need me for the wedding. You got everything organized. But I’m here to look after you. I know you, Dan. You’re going to forget to eat, and we don’t want you passing out at the altar.”

  “It’s not me getting married,” Dan muttered.

  “Not this time,” Gideon said cryptically. He handed Dan a hash brown and a sandwich. “Sit and eat. We haven’t got much time.”

  “I need to feed my cat.”

  “I’ve already done it, darlin’,” Gideon said, pointing to the empty can on the counter.

  Of course he had.

  “Sit down and eat,” Gideon repeated.

  Dan sat and stared at him. “How did you know what time I’d be getting up?”

  Gideon had just taken a large mouthful of food, so it took him a minute to answer the question. “You told me last night, darlin’. Now eat.”

  Dan huffed, gave up the fight, and tucked into his food. It was too early in the morning to argue with Gideon. He ate his way through the hash browns and bacon-and-egg sandwich, and then he drank the latte.

  “You need to get into the shower,” Gideon said.

  “There’s more coffee if you want it. I set up the coffee machine before bed.”

  Gideon grabbed a mug and filled it from the coffeepot. “Take that with you. It’ll help you to wake up.”

  Dan took a large slurp of coffee. “What time did you get up?”

  “About an hour ago.” Gideon spoke as though waking up at four thirty was the usual thing for him.

  “You’re mad,” Dan said and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Ten minutes later he reappeared dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. He had left his tux at Marty’s place, together with the rings. Half-asleep as he was, he couldn’t fail to notice Gideon’s admiring slow perusal, and his body perked up. He told it firmly to shut up and go back to sleep as he refilled his mug.

  “What’s the time?” he asked.

  “You got five minutes.”

  Gideon had finished his food and coffee, cleared everything away, and was reading one of the books Dan left lying around.

  “You like thrillers?” Dan asked.

  “I prefer horror, but I don’t mind this writer.”

  Dan ran through the list of things he had to bring with him—key, wallet, breath mints. “Where is your suit?”

  “I’ve got everything in the car. You can come with me. I’ll drive you back. That way you can have a drink.”

  “I don’t think I ought to be getting drunk. I’m the best man.”

  Gideon smirked at him. “I thought it was the best man’s job to get trashed, make a really bad speech, and embarrass everyone.”

  Dan pulled a face. “Don’t remind me. I’ve been dreading making the speech since Marty mentioned the wedding. Marty’s brother is that best man. At his last wedding, Todd threw up all over the matron of honor. It should have been a warning sign for Marty.”

  Gideon laughed. “I promise I’ll keep you under control, darlin’.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “What?”

  “Darling. You keep calling me darling.”

  Gideon pulled Dan to his feet. “I’ve only called three people in my life darlin’. My wife, my daughter, and now you. I hope that tells you something.”

  Dan stared into Gideon’s eyes, for the first time recognizing Gideon’s expression for what it was. Pure affection, and maybe something else, something more. He wanted to ask, to know Gideon wanted him, boring old Dan Collins, but as he tried to think what to say, Gideon looked over his shoulder.

  “It’s six twenty. We need to move. Will your cat be all right by herself?”

  “I’ve asked one of my neighbors to come in and feed her later on. She loves SmokeyJo. She’ll probably take the cat back to her place for a cuddle. I swear she’s trying to find a way to steal her.”

  Gideon bent down for a scritch behind the cat’s ears and smiled expectantly at Dan. “Let’s get going, then.”

  Dan picked up his keys and wallet, and they headed out. Dan halted as Gideon opened the door, and Gideon raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Wait a minute.” Dan rushed into the bedroom and returned a minute later. “I forgot the speech.” He held up a couple of sheets of paper.

  “Good call.” Gideon ushered Dan out of the apartment as though it were his place rather than Dan’s and held out his hand for Dan’s keys. Dan huffed and locked the door himself. He didn’t need Gideon to do the job for him.

  Gideon’s chuckle echoed in his ear as he headed for the stairs, and Dan gritted his teeth and took the steps two at a time.

  He was happy to climb into Gideon’s Nissan, though, rather than taking the subway to Marty’s house. The car was still warm, and he relaxed against the comfortable seat and yawned as Gideon merged into the early morning traffic.

  “You look tired.”

  “Thanks.” Dan’s sarcastic tone was spoiled by another yawn. “I haven’t slept much recently.”

  “Worrying about your speech?” Gideon sounded genuinely concerned.

  “Yeah.” And dealing with his changing relationship with Gideon after hopelessly crushing on him for so long, the speed-dating evening, and Disastrous Date, who’d texted him twice the day before.

  “Well, at least that’s over and done with after today. You won’t have to worry about the speech again.”

  One out of four was good. He supposed the speed-dating evening was over, so maybe two out of four. Dan was sure his crush on Gideon wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, and Parker had the hide of a rhino. Dan wasn’t convinced even using Gideon as his boyfriend would persuade Parker to leave him alone.

  “I’ve done public speaking before,” Gideon said. “If you like, we could run through your speech before the reception and I could give you pointers.”

  “You could deliver the speech if you want,” Dan said, only half joking. The thought of having to stand up in front of all the guests was making his stomach churn.

  Gideon patted Dan’s knee, and Dan tried not to squirm because he wanted Gideon’s hand a little farther up. Gideon didn’t seem to appreciate Dan’s feelings, because he said, “You’ll be fine. I have faith in you. I’ve seen you face down a bar full of drunk men. You can give a speech to a room full of drunk wedding guests. There’s no difference, except the guests might heckle you more.”

  Dan couldn’t help but laugh. Gideon was right. Dan had dealt with more than one drunken crowd. He could deal with a room full of wedding guests, religious or not. The only thing he had to worry about was getting Marty to the church on time and remembering the rings. The speech was just gravy. Dan relaxed into the seat and closed his eyes. He would look after Marty, and Gideon would look after him. It was fine.

  Chapter 21

  “HE’S SUPPOSED to be here.” Dan banged on Marty’s door for the third time, but as he hadn’t answered the first or second time, Dan didn’t hold out much hope.

  Gideon peered into the window of Marty’s living room. “There are no lights on in the house. I don’t think anyone is at home, darlin’.”

  Dan rubbed a hand over his head. If he had hair, he’d be clutching it by then. “Oh hell no. You’re not telling me I’ve lost the groom. We haven’t gotten to the church, and the groom is already missing.”

  “He might still be asleep.”

  Dan shook his head. “Marty sleeps worse than anyone I know. He wouldn’t have slept through me banging on the door. Is his Jeep outside?” Dan pointed to the side of the house, and Gideon went to investigate.

  He vanished for a moment and then reappeared. “It’s still here, and the hood is cold. There isn’t any sign he used the car this morning.”

  Worry gnawing at his gut, Dan pulled out his phone and scrolled down to Marty’s number. It rang and rang and eventually went to voicemail. After Marty’s brief message, Dan left one of his own.

  “I’m not sure how many words that didn’t start with the l
etter F were in that sentence,” Gideon commented. From the smirk on his face, he was obviously a lot less worried about Marty than Dan was.

  Dan scowled. “Perhaps he should be here when he’s meant to be here if he wants polite language.”

  He was at a loss. Marty was impulsive but very predictable. If he said he was going to be somewhere, he would be there. Dan was worried. Marty could be lying in the house injured… or worse. What if he’d fallen down the stairs? Dan raced through a list of possible scenarios, all of them dire.

  “Do you have a key?” Gideon asked.

  “Would I be standing out here if I did?”

  Gideon frowned at Dan’s snappy tone, but he felt along the porch roof and looked under the mat and in the flowerpots. “I can’t find a spare.”

  “I don’t want to worry Lena just yet,” Dan said. “I’ll call his brother. He might know where the spare key is.” He had Todd’s phone number in his contact list from years past, and he was scrolling through his contacts when Gideon spoke.

  “Is Todd a taller, thinner version of Marty?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because he’s dragging Marty up the street.”

  Dan looked up to see the two men shuffling toward them, both with sloppy grins on their faces.

  “Hey look, Todd, they’re already here. I told you we needed to get up earlier.” Marty tripped over his feet, and it was only Todd’s loose grip that kept him from taking a tumble on the asphalt.

  Dan rushed forward to prevent any more accidents. Lena was going to kill him if her groom turned up with a black eye and a broken nose. “Where the hell have you been?” Then he inhaled and nearly gagged. “You reek. Are you drunk?”

  “Not drunk. Definitely not drunk.” Marty would have sounded more convincing if he hadn’t slurred every word.

  “He’s not drunk. Drinking last night. More hangover.” Todd sounded very pleased with himself.

  Dan took Marty before he could do himself more damage. Gideon was by his side and took Marty’s weight.

  A short round man stomped up the path, scowling at Marty and stabbing a thick finger at him. “You owe me for the ride.”

  “Oh yeah.” Marty hung on to Dan’s jacket. “We ran out of money. Could you pay the cab driver?”

  “How much?”

  Dan blanched as the driver named a fare which was his grocery bill for the next month, but Gideon stepped forward. “I’ll handle it. You get him inside.”

  Dan smiled at him gratefully. Then the smile slipped off his face as he turned to Marty. “Where are your keys?”

  Marty pulled out a bunch of keys. He squinted at the keys, taking a long time to focus before he picked one and nearly inserted it up Dan’s nose as he thrust it in Dan’s direction. Dan got the door open and dragged Marty to the sofa. He left Todd behind, not caring what happened to him.

  “Thought you were going to have an early night last night?” Dan said. He looked up at Gideon, who’d come in pushing Todd ahead of him and shut the front door. “Can you make coffee? Strong. Really strong.”

  Gideon nodded and headed into the kitchen. Todd slumped on the opposite sofa in a sprawl of loose limbs.

  “Todd said I didn’t have a bachelor party, so he would take me on a boys’ night out.” Marty rolled his head to look at his brother for confirmation. “I would have invited you, but you were working.”

  “But why on earth did you get drunk? You know Lena’s parents hate alcohol. You said you were going to stay sober. She’s gonna kill you after she’s done killing me.”

  “I didn’t,” Marty protested indignantly. “I drank club soda all evening.”

  Dan made a disbelieving snort and turned to Todd. “What did he really drink?”

  Todd opened one eye. “He drank soda… and vodka.” He grinned as though he’d done something good.

  Dan rested back on his haunches. “Christ, Todd, you know he can’t handle liquor. What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  “He needed a bachelor party, man,” Todd protested. “You weren’t going to do it, so it was up to me. That’s why I’m the best best man.”

  “Didn’t want a bachelor party because I didn’t want to be drunk for Lena.” Marty grinned at them both, and then the color drained out of his face and he clutched on to Dan.

  “Shit. Grab that trashcan.” Dan barked at Todd. He knew what was coming next.

  Todd, for once, did as he was told. Dan dumped out the contents and shoved it in front of Marty just as Marty gave up the contents of his stomach.

  “Gross, dude.” Todd also turned green, and Dan pointed at the downstairs bathroom.

  “If you’re gonna hurl, do it in there. I’m not cleaning up after you.”

  Todd rushed away, and Dan heard retching that seemed to go on forever. It was turning out to be a fine morning.

  “Just peachy,” he muttered and looked at his first patient who groaned and clutched the trashcan as though it were a lifesaver.

  “Lena is going to kill me,” Marty slurred.

  “You’ll be lucky if she still marries you,” Dan snarled. “Gideon, could we have water as well as the coffee.”

  Gideon walked in bearing two large glasses of water as though he’d anticipated Dan’s request. “Coffee is almost finished.”

  Dan helped Marty sip the water, but he was unsurprised when it made a reappearance a couple of minutes later.

  “I’m dying,” Marty moaned. He rested back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

  “You’re not dying, dude. You must have realized you were drinking alcohol after the first couple of drinks. Why didn’t you stop?”

  “Todd insisted it was club soda with a kick.”

  “What the hell did you think the kick was?”

  “Lime?” Marty squinted at Dan as though he wanted validation that that was the right answer.

  “You’re an idiot.” Dan got to his feet and stretched. It was too early in the morning for this.

  “Here.” Gideon laid his hands on Dan’s shoulders and massaged them, digging his thumbs into the muscle to roll out the sore knots. Dan groaned in pleasure, and dropped his head to give Gideon more access.

  But then Todd stumbled out of the bathroom, and the moment was lost. Gideon stepped away and handed Todd the water. He muttered his thanks, took a sip, and headed straight back into the bathroom.

  “It’s going to be a long morning,” Gideon observed.

  Dan nodded in agreement. “Thank God we’ve got plenty of time to sober up these idiots.”

  “What time is the photographer arriving?”

  Dan nudged Marty, who groaned loudly. “What time is the photographer getting here?”

  “She’ll be here around one.”

  “We’ve got four hours to get you sober and into your tux.”

  Gideon looked down at Marty. “How much sleep have you had?”

  “Sleep?” Marty stared at him as though it were a trick question.

  Dan sighed and tugged on Marty’s arm. “Go to bed until eleven. We’ll make sure you’re ready for the photos.”

  Marty stayed where he was.

  Gideon snorted and hoisted Marty to his feet. “Come on, man. Where’s your bedroom?”

  “Don’t need sleep,” Marty said petulantly.

  “Sure you don’t.” Gideon half carried him to the stairs.

  Dan stayed where he was and wished he were the one in Gideon’s arms being taken into the bedroom. A loud, raucous snore broke into his thoughts. Todd had passed out in the bathroom, and Dan left him where he was. He was obviously breathing.

  In Marty’s small, neat kitchen, Dan cleaned out the trashcan and tried not to breathe as he kept hold of his own stomach with difficulty. He heard Gideon coming down the stairs and poured coffee into two mugs that were already waiting on the countertop. No point letting good coffee go to waste. “I guess he’s asleep?”

  “Like a baby.” Gideon wrinkled his nose. “A very smelly baby. I left another trashcan by his head.
God knows if he’ll aim straight.”

  “This is not how I planned my morning. I should never have left him alone last night.”

  Gideon squeezed Dan’s shoulder and then let go to lean against the kitchen counter. “It’s my fault. I should have given you the night off.”

  Dan resisted the temptation to lean against him. “You couldn’t know Marty was gonna go out and get trashed.”

  “I don’t think he planned to get hammered. He had help.”

  “This is all his own fault. Marty knows what Todd is like. He should never have trusted him.”

  “Maybe Marty wanted to get drunk. A last rebellious fling?”

  “It’s not like he’s gonna be teetotal forever. It was one damn day.”

  Gideon’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Marty was just being an idiot?”

  “That’s more like it.”

  Dan was caught by an unexpected yawn, and Gideon put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close. “Do you need a nap?”

  “You like mothering people, don’t you?” Dan yawned again and rested his head against Gideon’s shoulder.

  Gideon chuckled and held him closer. He was a snuggler. Who knew? “I prefer to call it parenting, but yes, Ariel says I’m always fussing.”

  “She’d hate it if you stopped.”

  Ariel complained about her father’s strong-arm parenting, but the minute Gideon stopped, she wanted his attention. Last week proved that point.

  “And what about you?”

  “What about me?” Dan tilted his head to look up at Gideon and noticed how his gold-tipped lashes caught the light.

  “Do you want me to stop fussing?” Gideon’s voice dropped to a low rumble.

  “No.” Dan held his breath and only relaxed when Gideon smiled.

  It would be so easy to reach up and kiss him on that wide, curved mouth. Dan would only have to turn a couple of inches. The temptation was there, and from the way Gideon was staring at Dan’s mouth, he was having the same thought.