He took a deep breath and turned his face to the sun. The old guy was right. He could choose not to be mad and still call the police.
Scottie showed up as promised and at the most inconvenient time. Jeremy was on the phone with the police department, reporting his car stolen. His face flushed with embarrassment when Scottie narrowed his eyes at him upon hearing the tail end of the statement. The woman on the other end of the phone promised to send detectives around, so he should stay home for the next few hours. He agreed and then turned to face Scottie.
“I’m glad you called the cops, dude.”
Jeremy shrugged. “I figured I should.”
“I don’t get you, though. I’d be pissed as hell. Shit! I’m pissed for you.”
“No use getting upset. What’s done is done. Doesn’t mean I should let it go either. Right?”
Scottie clapped him on the shoulder. “Right.”
“Okay, well, let’s get on this before the detectives show up.”
They spent the next half hour sorting through boxes Jeremy had pulled down from the attic. Apparently, Aunt Christy had stored all kinds of crap up there. Some of it was paperwork, old taxes dating back to the 1980s, bills, and receipts that had faded beyond recognition, and other documents that he wasn’t sure if they were significant. One box had VHS tapes of old movies. Scottie rolled his eyes at that and made a face that had Jeremy laughing.
Soon enough, someone knocked on the door, interrupting their perusal. Jeremy opened it and stared at two detectives. One was a bit older and looked like a retired surfer with a faded Ron Jon shirt and ripped up jeans. He even wore flip-flops and pushed a pair of cheap sunglasses up on his head. He wouldn’t have believed the guy was a detective if he hadn’t shown his badge.
The other guy, though. He was something else entirely.
Olive skin and pitch-black hair. He was the most beautiful man Jeremy had ever seen. His hair was longer on the top than the sides. He’d pulled it into a short ponytail at the back of his head so you could see the edge of the sides, shaved close above his ear. He pulled off his wire-framed sunglasses, exposing his gorgeous, light brown eyes—like melted caramel. His cheekbones were high and sharply defined. His nose and mouth were delicate and slightly effeminate, yet he held his chin up firmly, boldly. His shoulders were a little bony but held back in perfect posture. His long arms were slight but defined, and his deft fingers danced over his phone as he stood there. His eyebrows, as black as his hair, scrunched into a look of concentration. Jeremy wanted nothing more than to get closer to him, find out more about him. His attention was on the detective like nothing else in the world existed.
The beach bum spoke first, breaking the silence. “I’m Detective Walker, and this is Specialist Mendosa. We’re here about your stolen car.”
Mendosa looked up with his candy eyes, and the corner of his mouth quirked in a half smile. He stuck his free hand out, and Jeremy shook it. Firm, commanding. Jeremy didn’t want to let go, but he did. Albeit, reluctantly. He didn’t shake hands with Walker but opened the door wider. Walker gave him a strange look but came inside and looked around. “You moving?”
Jeremy had to clear his throat before he could speak. “No, uh...I don’t live here to begin with. My aunt died. This is her place. Or was, I guess.”
“Oh. Okay. So what about your car?”
Jeremy wanted to hear from Mendosa, not Walker. He wanted to speak with the cute specialist, so his eyes stayed on him as he spoke. “Met some folks in the building. Got to know them. Or at least I thought I did. We hung out for a few days, and I liked them a lot. They had good vibes. Then they asked to borrow my car.”
Finally, Mendosa spoke. “How many people are we talking about?” His voice was smooth and sexy. Deep and soothing. Jeremy wanted to hear him say a million words.
“Two...well, three.”
“Which is it?” Mendosa’s eyebrow lifted in question. Jeremy wanted to kiss it where it raised slightly higher than the other one. For the first time in a very long time, Jeremy was in Insta-lust. Specialist Mendosa hit all of his buttons.
“Oh, uh...three. See, I met Nick and Star first. She said her grandmother lived here, and they were watching her place while she was on a trip or something. Then I met the other guy later.” Jeremy was suddenly reluctant to tell about Dano. He’d been attracted to the guy, but if he had to be honest with himself, he’d been attracted to the fact that Dano had flirted with him, paid attention to him. It had been a long damn time since that had happened. Dano had been kind of ordinary, especially compared to this Specialist Mendosa, hot-sex-god standing in front of him now. Mendosa wore a short sleeve plaid button up shirt and tan pants and deck shoes. He came off cool and classy, someone better. Thinking back, Dano seemed like a regular neighborhood low-life. He’d gotten all worked up because of a little attention, and he didn’t want to share that.
“Tell me about the other guy?” Of course, they would want to know. Mendosa tapped on his phone, glancing up at Jeremy every few seconds, waiting for an answer.
Jeremy sighed. “We went to a bar. I went with Nick and Star, and we met this guy, Dano, there.”
“Dano?”
“He had an Irish name...like O’Malley or something. I don’t remember. Everyone called him Dano.”
More tapping on the phone.
“What are you doing there?” Scottie asked.
The surfer guy pointed at Scottie with a pen that he’d been writing with in a little notebook. “And you are?”
“Scottie Wilkins. I’m Jeremy’s cousin.”
“Right. Sorry for your loss.”
Mendosa stepped closer to Jeremy, and his attention immediately focused away from the detective and his cousin. “I’m entering your information in this app. It’s going to help us figure out who these folks are and help us find them.”
“Oh, that’s pretty cool. How’s that work?”
“It’s complicated, but the simple version is that I put in your information on what happened. Where, what was stolen, possible suspects. Then it searches other information in the system and the other police databases. Hopefully, the AI software will help us make some connections.”
“So, it’ll find these guys faster?”
“I’m hoping, anyway. So, tell me about this bar. Where was it? Do you know the address?”
“Uh...I’m not from here. I don’t know. I could get there again, but I don’t know the street name.”
“We should go.”
Detective Walker looked annoyed. “Really? Now?”
“Unless you have anything else to add?” Mendosa looked at Jeremy with pleading eyes, and Jeremy was pretty sure that he’d do almost anything Mendosa wanted.
“No. We can go.”
“Walker can drive. Come on.” He turned and headed for the door with a singular focus.
What would it be like to have that focus directed at him?
Jeremy grabbed his wallet and keys, stuffing them in his pockets. “Be back in a few, Scottie.”
Scottie gave him a little salute, trying to play it off that he was cool, but there was a worried look under that facade.
Six – Ollie
Their witness was extremely cute. He wore board shorts, a yellow Panama Jack t-shirt that didn’t quite match the shorts, and canvas tennis shoes that used to be white but now were some weird shade of gray with green grass stains around the edges. He grabbed a pair of Oakley sunglasses off the table with his keys as they walked out, and Ollie found himself wishing the day wasn’t so sunny. He wanted to see more of those soulful blue eyes hiding under the dark shades.
Jeremy hummed to himself as they rode down in the elevator, and this close to him, he smelled like cocoa butter. Ollie wanted to bury his nose in his hair and tongue the shark’s tooth he wore around his neck. Instead, he distracted himself by fiddling with the settings on his app.
“So, where are you from, Jeremy? If you don’t live here?”
“Oh, well. I used to live here but mo
ved out to Clearwater with my dad when I was young. I went to school out there on the other coast. I haven’t been back much over the years and probably wouldn’t have come if my aunt hadn’t passed. I hope I can get out to the jetties before I leave, though.”
“Maybe you can. If we get your car back.” Ollie bit his tongue. Why did he say that? They had little chance of recovering the vehicle, but he wanted to make things right in this guy’s world. He wanted to see Jeremy happy and smiling. Wanted those blue eyes looking him over and his hot mouth saying and doing dirty things... He had to change the subject in his head. He couldn’t afford to get all hot and bothered over a victim on a case.
The elevator opened, and they walked out. “How did you meet these people? Nick and Star?” That was a more sensible question.
“At the pool. It’s that way.” Jeremy pointed toward the back of the building.
“Okay.” Ollie’s brain leapt to a vision of Jeremy wearing speedos and dripping wet with water splashed over his body and that sun-streaked brown hair. Again—he needed to stop that line of thinking. He watched Jeremy’s ass and bare legs, tanned to gold from the sun, as he followed Walker out to the car.
Ollie liked everything about Jeremy. He had an easy laugh and a genuinely happy smile. He talked about things Nick and Star had said and how he and his cousin were cleaning up his aunt’s place as he directed them to the bar. Ollie hoped they would never get there and maybe they could drive around the suburbs of Jacksonville for hours and hours so he could hear Jeremy talk more. When he wasn’t talking, he hummed and damned if Ollie didn’t like that, too. He wanted to hear more.
“Oh, this is it.” Jeremy pointed to the Rocking Bird. Walker turned the wheel, pulling into the parking lot. The place was a dump. The cinderblock walls desperately needed paint. A few other cars were parked in the lot, but not Jeremy’s car. “Do you want to go in?”
“Yep. Come on.” Walker got out of the car. He’d want to question the people there about Jeremy’s so-called friends.
Ollie smiled at Jeremy. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Sure.”
Not sure who comforted who, he busied himself with getting the address and tapping the information in his phone before following Jeremy inside. Typically, the inside of the place was dark and cool. An old bar lined the far wall with liquor bottles stacked up high in a huge pyramid behind it. One guy tended bar, and Walker had his attention at the far side of the room. “Anyone here you recognize?” Ollie asked.
Jeremy shook his head. “We played pool. Back there.” He led Ollie to a room that had several tables, but no one was playing. The room was empty.
When Walker was finally satisfied with the questioning, he left his card, should anyone remember anything. They piled back into Walker’s car. Jeremy sat in the back, but he leaned forward to talk. Ollie wanted to pull the guy into his lap. He was already trying to figure out excuses to spend more time with him.
After a few minutes, Jeremy sat back in his seat. It was quiet for a minute, and Ollie desperately tried to find something to say that didn’t make him sound stupid or desperate. Then Jeremy’s humming turned into words. He sang. Lovely voice. For a minute, Ollie didn’t recognize the song, and then it hit him. A Jimmy Buffet tune, the one about sharks. Fitting.
After a minute, he went back to humming, leaving Ollie a little disappointed. “Jeremy. I can’t promise anything, but we’ll do our best to help you.”
“Thanks. I’m not too worried. I guess I called because it’s the right thing to do, but Karma will take care of it in the end. I don’t expect much.”
“Interesting attitude,” Walker mumbled.
Ollie popped the back of his fingers against his arm. “Shut up.”
“Seriously. I don’t expect to see my car again. Or them. No big deal. I appreciate your time, though. Maybe you can use your app thing to find them, so they don’t take advantage of someone else.”
Ollie suddenly wanted under Jeremy’s skin. He was too laid back, and Ollie wanted to get him worked up.
Too soon, they stopped in front of Jeremy’s apartment building. Ollie didn’t want to let him go. “If you think of anything else or need anything. At all. Please.” He handed Jeremy his card. “Call me.” He hoped his eyes conveyed that anything meant anything and not only police stuff.
“Yeah, sure.” He reluctantly tucked the card in his pocket with an odd look on his face.
“Unless your Karma-gods tell you otherwise.”
Jeremy scrunched his face up for half a second, then went right back to the relaxed Zen-state he seemed to constantly live in. “Of course.” This time, his words were sure and confident. Ollie liked the odd look better and set a personal goal to un-nerve Jeremy Ringer every chance he got.
“See ya around then, Zen-boy.”
Jeremy got out of the car but leaned back in. “It’s not Zen. It’s Tao.”
“Whatever.”
“There’s a difference. Google it.” He pointed at Ollie then shut the door and walked away.
Walker chuckled as he pulled away from the curb.
“Shut up, you.” He dug in his pocket for a Lifesaver and popped the fresh mint in his mouth.
“You like him.”
“Fuck off.”
Seven – Jeremy
Jeremy made his way into the building. He was hot. Extremely hot. The specialist was a slick, sexy bastard. He’d fought the entire time to keep his cool, but Specialist Mendosa did weird things to him and his libido.
He walked out to the pool instead of going up to the apartment. He carefully put Ollie’s card with his phone, wallet, and sunglasses on a chair, covering them up with his t-shirt before jumping into the pool. He had to cool off. The business card had the local police precinct and the specialist’s name: Oliver Mendosa. Under that, there were two phone numbers, one for the office and one for Oliver’s mobile phone.
A few laps later, he realized that nothing he did was helping him calm down. He was angry, frustrated, and turned on, and completely outside of his comfort zone. He needed a drink and maybe to smoke a little weed to chill the fuck out, but he didn’t have any pot since he rarely did that anyway. He’d settle for whatever his aunt had left up in her condo, which was probably gin or rum. Either would work.
He stretched out in a lounge chair to dry off in the sun a bit before heading up. Some kids splashed and played in the shallow end. He smelled chlorine, chemicals, suntan lotion, and sweat. Blackbirds flew overhead, casting prophetic shadows across the pavement. Jeremy took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. He would have rather been at the beach, but the sun and the water called to his soul, even when it was a pool. He closed his eyes behind his shades, trying to clear his mind and enjoy the day.
Specialist Oliver Mendosa occupied his brain, and those thoughts riled up other parts of Jeremy’s anatomy. With a grunt, he finally pushed himself up and grabbed his belongings. Scottie probably hadn’t left, anyway. He would want a full rundown on what had happened, but all Jeremy wanted to do was get in the shower and jack off. Maybe that would rid his headspace of the sexy specialist.
Eight – Ollie
Ollie couldn’t stop thinking about their witness, Jeremy. The guy was too cute and entirely too laid back. “What do you think about Jeremy’s case?” he asked Walker as they walked into the precinct.
“Never going to find his car. You shouldn’t have given him false hope.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t help it.” He stuffed his phone in his pocket.
Walker stopped and looked at him, grabbing his shoulder. “What? You do like the guy? I mean like-like?”
“He’s cute.” Ollie shrugged. He wanted to play like he was calm and laid back like Jeremy, but he wasn’t. Not at all. The old saying about butterflies in the stomach seemed more like a fact than a literary description.
“I was teasing, but... Seriously, ask him out.”
Ollie huffed. “You know I can’t. At least not until we close his part of this bullshit
.”
“Nah. You’re just here for the data. You’re not a detective. Ask him out.”
Ollie shook his head. He wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted dating Jeremy to be a conflict of interest or not. He hadn’t dated anyone. Not in a long time. Not really, not ever. What was he doing, anyway? “He lives too far away. I’ll be back in New York in a month. Easy.”
“That’s an excuse. If you like him. Go out with him. Hell, maybe getting laid would do you good.”
Ollie snorted. “That’s for sure.” He knew exactly how long it had been since he’d gotten any. Hookups he could do, and in New York, they’d been frequent enough. Plus, he had Corey Bishop. A good friend and in for a good fuck if they were both unattached and needing release. It was nice to have a friend he could count on, have sex with occasionally, but wouldn’t ever ask or expect more than that from them. In Jacksonville? None. Nada. Nothing. La negative. Not even Corey, since he was back in New York.
Walker bumped into his side. “Go for it.”
Ollie watched him walk away. He bit at his lip. He did want to see Jeremy again. Wanted to see those sapphire eyes, wide open, as he came apart. Wanted to hear that sweet voice, not humming or singing, but calling out. Maybe calling Ollie’s name. “Maybe I will.” Maybe they could be a fun hookup while he was in Jacksonville. At least until Jeremy went back home. Even if it was a conflict of interest, hell, Ollie never gave a damn about what anyone else said, anyway. He made his own rules.
Nine – Jeremy
Journal Entry: Life is changing around me, and everything feels so different than what I’d come to expect, but not in a bad way. I’m kind of liking my family. Scottie is fun to hang out with, and I’ve missed my aunt. I also kind of like Specialist Oliver Mendosa. I wish I had an excuse to call him. Maybe I could find Nick and Star and have them steal something else from me. Ha! Well, hopefully, I’ll find some way to have more of both my family and Oliver before I have to head home and hopefully, I can enjoy it while I’m here. That’s the goal of life. Enjoy it while you have it.
Time for Love Page 4