The Sweetest Goodbye (Roadmap to Your Heart, Book 3.5)

by Christina Lee

  The Sweetest Goodbye

  Roadmap to Your Heart, Book #3.5

  Christina Lee

  Contents

  Copyright

  Blurb

  Other Titles by Christina Lee

  1. Billie

  2. Dylan

  3. Billie

  4. Dylan

  5. Dylan

  6. Billie

  7. Dylan

  8. Billie

  9. Billie

  10. Dylan

  11. Billie

  12. Dylan

  13. Billie

  14. Dylan

  15. Billie

  16. Billie

  17. Dylan

  THANK YOU for reading THE SWEETEST GOODBYE

  About the Author

  Where to Find Christina Lee

  An Excerpt from The Deepest Blue

  Copyright © 2017 by Christina Lee. All rights reserved.

  Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without prior written permission by the author(s), except where permitted by law.

  THE SWEETEST GOODBYE is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All products and/or brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.

  Published by Christina Lee

  Cover design by Kanaxa

  Editing and proofing provided by Flat Earth Editing and Judy’s Proofreading

  Blurb

  Billie Montgomery was always known as the sick kid with the therapy dog. Dylan Bowden never had two nickels to rub together, let alone a true home to call his own. The two have been best friends since high school. They’re always there for each other, so when Billie opens his own bakery called Montgomery’s Sweets no one supports him better than Dylan.

  The business is a success, and Billie figures he’s got everything he needs. Everything except the guy he’s been saving himself for, no matter how often Dylan tells him it’s time to move on. After a night out turns into a sexy exchange between the best friends, they pretend like nothing happened. Besides, Billie’s still holding a torch for somebody else, and Dylan has always been a considerable flirt.

  When Billie’s first love unexpectedly breezes through town and life throws him a pretty rough curve ball, will Billie seek solace in the one man he’s pining for, or the only guy who’s ever protected his heart?

  Other Titles by Christina Lee

  Male/Male Romance

  There You Stand

  The Darkest Flame

  The Deepest Blue

  The Hardest Fall

  The Faintest Spark, coming soon

  Co-written with Nyrae Dawn:

  Touch the Sky

  Chase the Sun

  Paint the Stars, coming soon

  Between Breaths Series (New Adult Romance)

  All of You

  Before You Break

  Whisper to Me

  Promise Me This

  There You Stand (m/m)

  Adult Contemporary Romance

  Two of Hearts

  Three Sacred Words

  Twelve Truths and a Lie

  To The Deepest Blue readers who wanted Billie’s story. He certainly needed one. And our cute and sweet boy is definitely all grown up! You’re welcome.

  1

  Billie

  Billie,

  I guess this is goodbye. You will always be my first love. But also one of my best friends. I’ll text you from Ohio as much as I can. But promise me you won’t wait, even though you sounded adamant last time we talked.

  I only want you to be happy. With or without me. Just live your life.

  Always,

  Leo

  Didn’t matter how many times I read his four-year-old note, my heart still made its way up my throat and lodged itself there until I swallowed it back down. Just live your life. The paper was beginning to curl around the edges, but now I kept it flattened in one of my cookbooks. The one Grammy bought me after I graduated from culinary school.

  That same cookbook was in a drawer beneath the cash register in Montgomery’s Sweets, the bakery I ran for my family. I didn’t know why I kept it. Maybe because Leo was always fresh in my mind, the memories of us as teens riding our four wheelers out on Shady Pines Preserve in order to steal a quiet spot to kiss and touch. Quick hand jobs here and there while our mouths were locked together. And then our first time…a night I’d never forget.

  “He said to be happy,” Dylan drawled, motioning to the letter sticking out of the book, “not mopey or pining for what you didn’t have.”

  Dylan was my only employee at the shop and also my best friend since high school. He’d had a pretty rough life, and my family sort of adopted him as our own. According to Grammy, he had a standing invitation to all Montgomery dinners and events.

  “Shut it,” I replied, placing the cookbook back in the drawer. “Stay out of my business. I get enough of that from the other Montgomerys.”

  I noticed the small smile that lined his lips. He liked being considered an honorary member.

  “I’m just your voice of reason,” he said, opening the special glass case reserved for the town of Roscoe’s furry friends. He began lining the shelves with the remaining dog cookies he’d frosted this morning with all natural ingredients.

  My service dog, Bullseye, gingerly made his way to the corner of the room and lay down, not even giving the freshly baked snacks a second glance. He suffered from hip dysplasia—a condition Labradors are predisposed to—so his joints must’ve been aching more than usual today.

  He wasn’t allowed in the kitchen area, but he kept close watch in the main shop like a sentry. Everyone in this small town knew by now not to pet him while he was working, even if he wasn’t wearing his special red harness anymore.

  My seizures had all but disappeared after I turned eighteen, but Bullseye still warned me on a couple of occasions over the past few years. He was a loyal companion, so it was hard to see him getting up in age.

  “How about a treat, buddy?” Dylan squatted down and rubbed Bullseye’s hind leg, while giving him one of our baked pet bones.

  When Bullseye fished it from his fingers and wolfed it down, Dylan grinned. He loved Bullseye. As did Leo. Every time we texted over the years, which had boiled down to every few weeks, he asked about my dog and seemed concerned about his well-being. Supposed he should, if he was going to follow in his father’s footsteps and become our town veterinarian someday.

  It was a big deal for Leo to be accepted into OSU, especially if he wanted to apply for their graduate vet program afterward. They only admitted about sixty students from out of state each year. But part of me hoped he’d choose a closer university in Florida.

  Fact was, Leo and I never had the opportunity to give a real relationship a good enough shot. He went away to boarding school our sophomore year and then off to college a couple of years later. We could never line up at the right time or in the right place and Dylan always said that was why I had some fantasy in my head of our ultimate reunion. He didn’t know Leo as well as I did, having only moved into an apartment with his father to attend school in our district in the eleventh grade.

  But what he did know of him, I didn’t think he liked. Leo’s family was considered affluent for our small country town and Dylan was as far from being affluent as one could get, if you considere
d he’d once been a homeless teen.

  “Still on for tomorrow night, Will?” Dylan asked just as the oven dinged.

  He was the only person who ever called me by my birth name, William, or shortened it to Will. It made me feel older, like a different version of myself, and I secretly loved when he used it. Especially when we hung out every Saturday evening, without the aid of my seizure dog.

  It was the one night of the week I most looked forward to. I could let loose, even drink extra, and he’d be my designated driver, no questions asked. I had only recently gotten my license back since you needed to be seizure-free for a year in order to operate a motor vehicle. Which made me feel all kinds of dependent.

  The exact reason I enjoyed manning this place on my own was because I could be whomever I pleased. I hated being pitied or babied and even though my family loved me, I still felt like a fragile and sick kid in their eyes.

  “Can’t wait.” I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel before filling the glass sugar containers for the patrons who regularly ordered coffee.

  The bakery opened in an hour and I had to show up before dawn six days a week, but I set my own pace and priorities and practically had it down to a science. Truth be told, when you added in an overprotective family, I had almost too much help. Though Dylan was definitely a lifeline. He made me feel normal, even if he did drive me bonkers.

  Montgomery’s Sweets was a smaller shop—only enough room for four round-tops and three stools at the counter. We normally sold out of what we baked during the week, and our sugar cane syrup was as popular as the pies, which were my specialty. Twice a week Grammy whipped up some muffins too, because she loved keeping active and helping out.

  My shop had become a place where people stopped for a breather, or to satisfy their sweet tooth after they’d been shopping in town. Just like I’d always pictured.

  Dylan turned up the stereo and bopped around the counter to some hip-hop tune like he normally did. Too bad his real dream had fallen to the wayside.

  “Get those dancing shoes ready, Will,” he said, and I rolled my eyes.

  2

  Dylan

  Billie liked when I called him Will. He’d get this gleam in his eyes and his spine would straighten. I started doing it shortly after high school graduation. I knew he always felt coddled by his family, probably because his mom died when he was born and he’d been living with a seizure disorder. His family did tend to hover over him, but I found it endearing since I had the exact opposite experience growing up.

  But I got it, Billie needed to stand on his own two feet, which is why he was so proud to open Montgomery’s Sweets a couple years back. When he asked if I’d assist him I knew it was not only in an effort to help me get my life in order, but also to prove something to his dad, Grammy, and siblings. That he was all grown up and could manage something of his own.

  After we stacked the glass cases with our freshly baked cookies and pies, Billie flipped the sign on the door to OPEN and I got started filling beans in the coffee machine. He was wearing those tight, dark-wash jeans again. Christ. Ever since Billie had finally let loose and danced down and dirty with me at Lasso a few Saturdays ago, I couldn’t help seeing him in a different light.

  Billie was my closest friend and the best guy I knew. He was super resilient and determined—and somewhat of a control freak—and came through a tough seizure disorder with flying colors. I admired him even in high school and secretly wanted to be part of the Montgomery family because mine had been pretty shitty.

  After my drunk-ass father had found out I was gay and kicked me out on the street my senior year of high school, my dream to apply to Julliard washed down the drain like the grounds from yesterday’s lattes. Outside of enjoying this gig with Billie, dancing was the only other thing I was good at. Before I was hired at Sweets I was stringing jobs together to make money, in fast-food joints and lumberyards.

  But the itch to dance again outside of bars or the privacy of my own bedroom was closing in on me. And even though Billie would frown upon it—because he was wound tighter than his grandmother’s jewelry box—I planned on taking a job at STUDS Friday nights in Gainesville, for extra money. It wasn’t exactly stripping and the dance club had a pretty cool vibe. Unbeknownst to him, I planned on showing him just how awesome this coming Saturday.

  As I lined up the mug beneath the expensive machine, I thought about how I’d do just about anything for Billie. Even ignore our touching from the other Saturday night, though it was purely innocent on his part.

  Billie didn’t get out much with friends—he’d always been that way, more than likely because he didn’t feel he fit anywhere, especially with a therapy dog constantly at his side. He was more of a homebody and normally just played video games, tried new recipes with his grammy, or chilled with his family. But I could tell he liked our Saturday nights out. I think he felt safe with me and that meant everything. Because he provided a kind of safety net for me as well.

  “I figured we’d head up to a new club,” I said over my shoulder as the machine did its thing, pumping out the right amount of espresso into the cup. He was kneeling near Bullseye, obviously concerned about his beloved dog’s health. That animal was the one constant in his life and I didn’t want to think about what would happen when it was time to let him go.

  I poured the usual vanilla concoction into his mug and made sure it was nice and frothy before I handed it to him. “Unless you want to hang out at Lasso again?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t care where we go. Just nice to get out of here for awhile.”

  “There were a couple of hot guys there last time,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows for effect. “Maybe you can plan on hooking up.”

  I wanted him to be happy and I wasn’t exactly convinced that waiting around for Leo was the right thing, no matter how honorable it was. He rolled his eyes in irritation. He didn’t like hooking up, but he’d done it before—he wasn’t Mother Teresa, after all.

  I, on the other hand, considered a healthy sex life a normal part of being a young adult. Either that or I was hornier than my friend. Besides, I sort of needed human contact, not gonna lie.

  “We’ll see.” He sniffed at the vanilla latte and took his first sip. His eyes closed in bliss and then he licked the whipped cream I had loaded on top especially for him. I had to look away because more than once since our dirty dancing night I had the crazy notion of tasting that pouty mouth and sticking my tongue between his lips to lick at the sweetness.

  But that was a far-fetched illusion because I knew Billie didn’t let anybody get that close. Allowing somebody to jerk him off after clubbing was one thing, kissing and intimacy were another. Unless your name was Leo.

  That guy didn’t know how lucky he had it, with Billie still pining over him years later. If he came home this summer and decided that he didn’t want Billie, then he was going to break his heart and I was liable to smash his teeth in. Except Leo had never asked him to wait; the letter proved it. Billie was just that way—loyal to a fault.

  So I pretended like nothing at all had happened or changed between us that Saturday evening because in reality, nothing had. To any outside observer, we were just dancing. How his fingers had dug hard into my lower back as he held onto me and his hot breaths fanned against my neck were only part of my fucked-up fantasy.

  He was letting loose and I loved every single minute of it.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  * * *

  On Saturday my car rolled into Shady Pines Preserve and up to the main house that boasted a wrap-around porch. I was tired from working my first night at STUDS last night, but at least I got a nap in after my shift ended at Sweets.

  The Montgomery family used to solely run a hunting preserve, which included gators, but now Billie’s brother Braden handled the smaller quail and deer groups while his daddy tried his hand at sheep herding. His brother Callum had a talent for creating wood furniture and sold it out of his workshop or the furniture store i
n town. His sister, Cassie, who graduated from NC State, handled the business end of things.

  But Grammy was the glue that kept this family together and to me she represented a kind of mother figure, like no one else ever had. She waved to me from what had become her regular seat on the porch and I made sure to climb out of the truck so she could offer me her sweet tea like always.

  Billie was damn lucky to have such a supportive family, even though they drove him crazy. Cassie was married, his brother Braden was still single, as was his father. His other brother Callum was dating this super-hot guy named Dean and they had just gotten engaged.

  I didn’t know too many other people around here who were open like that so it was nice to see an out-and-proud gay couple, townsfolk be damned. Billie had even dragged me out to some pride event with Callum’s friends Jason and Brian in the Jacksonville area last year. We had a blast and I hoped to be invited again.

  Grammy patted the seat next to her on the porch swing. “Nice to see you, Dylan.”

  “You as well,” I replied, heading up the steps. “I smell something good baking.”

  “My cornbread muffins,” she smiled. “Waiting on the timer to tell me they’re ready.”

  “Making extra for Sweets in the morning?”

  Grammy worked with Billie every Sunday shift, and had never missed a day.

  “Sure am.” She poured me a glass of sweet tea from the pitcher and I took a grateful sip. It had been a hot one for a spring day. “Where are you two off to tonight?”

  “The usual,” I replied, careful not to say too much or Billie would get on my case. “Just kicking back with a couple of beers.”