All for You

by Andrew Grey

  Willy stepped away and motioned him over. Clay approached slowly, warily. It was clear he wasn’t interested in spending time around the sheriff who had arrested him. “Are you going to put me in jail again?”

  “Clay,” Willy said gently, “the sheriff isn’t to blame for what happened and you know it. He’s doing his job, and what you and Jamie were doing was wrong. Whose idea was it to race?”

  Clay’s glance shot to Jamie and then back to Willy.

  “I see. You know, you’re old enough to think for yourself, and you need to start doing that.”

  “But Jamie—”

  “Is your brother, but he gets into trouble and takes you along with him.” Willy was amazing. He was kind and caring. “You’re better than that. Jamie is an adult and he’s going to face the music for this one, harder than you will, since you’re still seventeen.” Willy hugged Clay gently, and Reggie could no longer hear what they were saying.

  Once they pulled apart, Willy watched as Clay went back over to his father and brother. The group moved away, and Reggie turned to Jasper.

  “Go back to the station, make sure there are no calls, and then head on out for traffic, but keep your radio on. I want you to get more experience, and that means taking more calls.” Reggie smiled as Jasper hurried away. He might have actually jumped a little before he reached the stairs.

  “Where are you heading?” Willy asked.

  “I’m going to patrol for a while. I want the department to be visible. Let people see that we’re out and about, not just sitting in the station. What about you?” Reggie found it hard to look away, but he had to. Having Willy in his house had been hard as hell. Every sound had made Reggie sit up, wondering if Willy was okay. He’d tossed and turned for hours, debating if he should have offered to stay with him, to see if Willy wanted to come to his bed. He knew he’d done the right thing, but still….

  “I don’t know. I was thinking I could look for a job.” Willy lifted his gaze, the confidence from earlier gone. “I need to be more independent.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “How late do you work tonight?” Willy asked. “I can cook really well. So maybe….”

  Reggie was on the verge of saying yes. It would be nice to have dinner with Willy, but that would be playing with fire. He never dated or got involved with guys where he worked, ever. It was a bad idea on all levels, and yet he wanted it, consequences be damned.

  “You don’t have to…,” Willy whispered, glancing around.

  “I know that. But what sort of chance will you be taking?” Would we be taking? “You know what will happen if your father finds out.”

  Willy nodded. “I know. But I need to have a little freedom of my own, a chance to be myself with someone, or I’m going to go out of my mind. I can’t sit at home, nodding my head, making believe that I agree and want what my father does.” Willy took a single step closer. “I’m not strong like you. I can’t just stand up to him like that.”

  “You did before,” Reggie said, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

  “And look what it got me. Permanent souvenirs of how far he’ll go to try to protect what he sees as his mission in life.” Willy sighed and turned away, walking slowly toward the stairs.

  “Six,” Reggie said. “I get off at six, depending.” His radio came to life in his ear, and he hurried to the exit on his way to a call. He didn’t have time to be any more specific than that, and maybe that was okay. Now it was up to Willy to figure out what he wanted to do with the information.

  REGGIE SPENT the day on one call after another. When he had a few minutes to patrol, he made a point of stopping out at the highway rest area to check on the restrooms. They were a known spot for men to meet. Not that he had anything against it, exactly, but it was also a spot where other kinds of transactions could be conducted. Since he wanted to choke those off, he’d added the area to regular patrols. But other than a family of four who were walking back to their car as he arrived, it was empty and as it should be. He drove through, taking pains to be visible to anyone passing, and then headed back toward town as he received another call.

  After his last call, Reggie went to the station and got to work. He had reports he needed to file, and he reviewed those of his deputies. Sam had said that he’d seen a number of cars out at the rest area, though when he pulled in, the parking lot emptied within minutes. As Reggie read through the report carefully, things didn’t ring quite true, especially some of the timing. It could have been sloppy reporting on Sam’s part… or something else. He needed to keep a closer eye on him.

  Sighing softly, he put the papers aside and finished up for the day, making sure all on-call information was correct. Sam was on duty that evening, so Reggie hoped for a quiet night. He checked in with him and found Sam almost chipper, which was unusual.

  “I got things. You have a good night.”

  Reggie thanked him and left the station, heading home for a few hours of peace. He pulled up in front of his home and found it quiet. Reggie checked the time—a little after six. He drove into the garage, then walked across to the house and entered the nearly silent abode. Reggie had to admit that he was a little disappointed. In truth, he’d been looking forward to the possibility that Willy would come over. He was also well aware that carrying on a relationship with Willy was a really bad idea. But damn, as soon as he closed his eyes, he could see Willy, and if he concentrated, he could feel him in his arms, a bundle of heat and energy.

  He went to his bedroom to change out of his uniform and take care of his belt and gun before returning to the kitchen.

  A car pulling into the drive caught his attention, and Reggie hurried to the window, moving faster than he should have. Willy got out of an old Toyota that looked held together with duct tape and a prayer. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was in some serious need of attention. Reggie went right to the door and opened it so Willy wouldn’t need to set down the plastic bags he was carrying.

  “What’s all this?” Reggie asked as Willy set the bags on the counter.

  “I said I was a good cook, and I didn’t know what you had.” He began unpacking the bags, pulling out some tomatoes and cucumbers that looked amazing. There was leaf lettuce, and then pasta and basil, the scents filling the kitchen. “Most of this came from my garden. I have a patch in the community plot south of town, and I raise a few things, mostly for my mom.”

  “My uncle had a garden out back. He’d cleared some trees for it. I haven’t had a chance to do anything with it. But this fall I’ll till it and then plant in the spring. Not that I know all that much about growing vegetables, but I thought I’d give it a try.” Reggie had the space and figured it would give him a new hobby.

  “I’ve been growing things my whole life. I love it. You have to be careful, though, especially in this area. Only get plants from local growers or seeds that are purchased locally. They carry hardier varieties that can thrive at our altitude. And California has a bunch of agricultural laws to protect the rest of the state from invasive species.” Willy blushed. It was adorable and sweet as anything. “You probably knew that.”

  Reggie got him a pot for the pasta and a bowl before showing Willy where everything else was. Then he got out of the way. “Where did you learn to cook?”

  “Mom thought it a good idea that all of us know some of the basics.” Willy began chopping the basil, the scent filling the room. “I can make garlic bread if you want….”

  Reggie got out the bread, and Willy pulled some cloves of fresh garlic out of his bag. Reggie was beginning to wonder just what else he had in there.

  “Mom taught me and I liked it. But I never get to cook much. Dad is pretty old-fashioned about things like that. Sometimes I think he was born too late.” Willy finished with the basil and filled the pot to get the pasta on. “I didn’t have the cash to get some meat, but….” Willy opened the refrigerator to check for butter. “Yes. I took a chance. I’m going to make some pesto and a salad and garlic
bread. Is that okay?”

  Reggie’s stomach growled at the mention of food. “More than. I’m so sick of my own cooking.”

  “What do you make?”

  Reggie humphed. “I usually get stuff I can put in the microwave and heat up. I can grill a mean steak and make good chicken and mashed potatoes. Basic stuff. But I’m usually so busy, I don’t have a lot of time for things like that.” He pulled out one of the stools from the living room side of the island and sat down, watching Willy as he got the pasta water on the stove and cut up everything he needed.

  “This is a great kitchen. Mom’s is really small. She has just enough room to do what she needs to, but if anyone else is in there with her, it gets crowded fast. This is so open and comfortable.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” Reggie sat and watched. “Can I ask you something? Why are you doing this?”

  Willy’s knife stopped midslice, the blade halfway through the cucumber.

  “Not that I don’t appreciate it, because I really do. But why do this? Why invite the possible wrath of your father?”

  Willy rolled his eyes. “We haven’t done anything other than cook.” He tried to look innocent but failed. “Okay….” He set the knife down. “I’m tired of my dad running my life for me, and I like you. I know you may not like me or you may think I’m too young or something.” Willy rocked back and forth slightly, which told Reggie he was nervous. “You’ve been nice to me, and you actually see me. Do you know what that means?”

  Reggie was lost for words. “No?”

  “I’m Willy, the reverend’s son. Most of the time, when I’m with him, people don’t even see me. They all defer to him and pay attention to him. I went through high school with very few friends because I was nearly invisible. But you saw me at the club, and even here. There are people in town who think of me as Reverend Gabriel’s son—that’s all. I’m not Willy. I don’t have my own identity. They might know my name, but they don’t even think of me as my own person.” Willy looked down and went back to cutting. “Maybe I’m being foolish to think that someone like you would….” He set down his knife. “I am being dumb, aren’t I?” He backed away from the counter. “I am being stupid. I thought I could come over here, make you dinner, and then maybe we could… I don’t know.” He turned and left the kitchen, striding toward the front door.

  “Where are you going?” Reggie asked, jumping off his chair, desperate to relieve Willy’s stress and anxiety.

  “I should just leave you alone and not bother you. I’m some kid who has no clue about how things work and—”

  Reggie caught Willy’s arm as he reached the door. He didn’t grip him hard—he’d never hurt him—but Reggie didn’t want Willy to go. “Hey, I see you.” When Willy turned, Reggie’s heart skipped a beat at the loneliness in those crystal-blue eyes that seemed to change color with the light and with Willy’s mood. They were fascinating, and Reggie wondered if he would ever be able to see all the colors they could be. “And you don’t need to leave.” He tugged Willy closer, wrapping him in his arms, marveling at how right he felt there.

  “I shouldn’t have come. You were right about my dad finding out. Me hoping for things and wishing for things… you doing this… you…. It’s playing with fire.”

  Reggie held him tight, his heart rate increasing, a nearly overwhelming urge rising from the base of his spine, blooming like a spring flower, spreading and growing by the second. He leaned in, closing his lips over Willy’s, tasting his sweetness, wanting more as soon as he’d gotten another taste. He tightened his grip, intensifying his hold, as a need to protect and care for Willy grew by the second. Reggie was in deep trouble; he could already feel it. If he’d been smart, he’d have let Willy leave. This was throwing all his rules out the window, and while he liked it, the idea threw him for a loop. He pulled back, still holding Willy, gazing into his eyes, trying to think clearly.

  Clearheadedness was a lost cause. A few blinks of those blue eyes and a glimpse of Willy’s pink tongue as it peeked out to wet his lips was enough to counteract everything he knew he should do.

  “Let’s have dinner. Okay?” Reggie asked in a whisper, not wanting to spook Willy.

  Willy nodded, and Reggie walked with him back to the kitchen. As Willy took up the knife again, Reggie went into the living room and put on some music—nothing too loud, but something to fill the void and create a mood.

  “I feel like a fool,” Willy said without looking up from what he was doing.

  “You can’t assume things. If you want to know something about anything, all you need to do is ask. It’s that simple.” The music changed and the beat increased. Reggie tapped his foot and then spun around in time to it. Willy chuckled, and Reggie hurried around to the back of the island and set the knife on the counter before whisking Willy into his arms, dancing him out of the kitchen and into the living room.

  “I need to finish this if we’re going to eat,” Willy said, nearly tripping over his own feet. Reggie held him up, and they moved more easily together once Willy relaxed.

  “There you go. I take it you’ve never been dancing,” Reggie said, holding Willy closer and letting the music work its way through him. “Is that something your dad doesn’t allow?”

  “No. He and Mom used to go dancing together sometimes. There’s plenty of dancing in the Bible, so he isn’t against that. But I never learned. I’m kind of uncoordinated. Mom tried to teach me once, but I ended up falling and breaking a lamp. There were no more dance lessons after that. Mom didn’t want to have to replace the rest of the furniture in the house.” Willy laughed, and Reggie chuckled against his neck, inhaling his deep, musky scent and letting it fill him as the song came to an end. He let Willy go, glad for a breather and maybe a little distance. Sitting on that stool was going to be difficult for a few minutes. Reggie only hoped his excitement wasn’t too obvious.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “See what you have for salad dressing.” Willy put the pasta in the boiling water and began making up the pesto, which smelled mouthwateringly good within minutes. Reggie had some honey mustard and a bottle of ranch dressing and put them on the counter. Then he helped butter the bread, and Willy put it into the oven.

  Reggie should have made sure he had a snack of some sort other than crackers and cheese like he’d served the last night. Still, it wasn’t going to be long before dinner would be ready, though the scent was driving him crazy.

  Willy took out the pasta and sauced it, then placed the bowl of salad on the island, as well as the pasta, before getting the garlic bread out of the oven and tipping it onto a plate. Reggie got a couple of beers from the refrigerator to complete the feast, and they sat side by side on the stools.

  “Wow, this is awesome,” Reggie said around his first bite of linguini. The scent had nothing on the rich creaminess of the pesto sauce.

  “I read about this in a magazine and made it for some friends when I was in college. But I never made it for my family.” Willy shrugged.

  “Where did you go to college?”

  “I got into UC Davis, and I was there for two years. I had it good there and enjoyed it. I was Willy for that time, but budget cuts meant that my scholarship money dried up, and Dad wasn’t going to help pay for it. He likes to think he runs the town, but one thing I do know, my father is honest as far as money is concerned. He doesn’t take any from anyone and only pulls his salary from the church. So there isn’t a whole lot to go around. After that, I came back here. How about you?”

  “I’m a Davis alum as well. But I was probably there and gone before you. I majored in criminal justice.” Reggie took another bite of pasta. “I started out as a sheriff’s deputy in the Fresno area, where I did well and helped on some high-profile cases. I busted a huge drug distribution ring, and that got me some recognition. I was asked to take over a department that was struggling, and when I agreed, they sent me here.”

  “So this is your first time as sheriff? You do seem youn
g.” Willy took a bite of a piece of garlic bread, and Reggie reached for one as well.

  “I was acting sheriff there after my boss was implicated in the ring I broke up.” Reggie sighed. “That was the hardest thing I ever had to do. He’d taught me what I know and given me my first break, but he was dirty. That really shook me up.” The decisions he’d had to make had nearly torn his soul apart. In the end, he’d done what was right, but it had ripped him apart emotionally. “I looked at the guy like a second father.”

  “I’m sorry.” Willy placed his hand on top of Reggie’s, their fingers curling together. “What about your family?”

  Reggie took a bite of bread, just garlicky and gooey enough to be totally decadent. “Mom and Dad are in Sacramento. They’re proud of me, and my dad was right there for me when the shit hit the fan. My sister, Janine, was ready to marshal the troops and have them there to buck me up. But I needed to work through it on my own.” That was partially why he was so careful about relationships now. He had built a very close one with Sheriff Andy, and look what happened. It was best to keep professional relationships and personal ones as far apart as possible. And he’d done that… up until a certain young man with the most amazing eyes walked into his station.

  “You know, I’m tired of talking about families. Mine pretty much sucks.”

  “Then what would you like to talk about?” Reggie was more than willing to change the subject.

  “Oh!” Willy’s eyes brightened and he leaned closer. “I think I got a job. John Webster down at the drugstore is looking for someone to help him with his books. The person who was helping him quit, and he’s been trying to do it himself and is going crazy. I took accounting classes in college, so I can help him do that. He’s happy and says that bookkeeping is a half-time job, but he can use me to watch the store and things when he’s gone, so that would be the rest of the time. I’m not going to get rich or anything, but I will be able to have some money of my own.”