by Aiden Bates
“I’ll go put her in her bed,” Anthony offered. He rose to his feet in a fluid, graceful motion and headed toward the stairs.
Ryan got up too. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and followed his husband up the stairs.
Jamie sighed as he watched them go. It was nice to see them happy together. Anthony deserved to be with someone who brought him as much comfort and joy as Ryan did, and after everything Ryan had suffered in life, he truly deserved the world. Anthony doted on him, did everything he could to make him happy, and Ryan devoted himself to their little family here at home.
It was almost nauseating, but not quite.
They came back downstairs a few minutes later, hand in hand like two middle school kids in love. “You guys are too cute for words,” Jamie teased. “Want me to get you something to drink, since your hands are full and everything?”
“Sure.” Ryan responded by picking Anthony up in his arms and settling back down on the couch with Anthony on his lap. “Thanks.”
Anthony laughed and blushed, but he didn’t move. His pants, which had gotten lose on him now that the baby weight was gone, sagged a little. Jamie couldn’t miss the little spot of ink that peeked out from Anthony’s waistband. “Is that a tattoo?” he gasped, squinting.
Anthony ducked his head and blushed again, But Ryan looked as proud as he had the first time he held baby Marissa in his arms. “You bet your ass it’s a tattoo,” he said, voice smug.
Then he softened, looking into Anthony’s eyes. “We figured we — I — had already learned the hard way about marriage, and how it can be manipulated. We decided tattoos would be better than rings, for us.” He ran his hand possessively over Anthony’s hip.
Jamie felt a pang. He hadn’t been able to have that closeness in a long time — three years. It would be fantastic if he could, but some things were just too far out of reach.
He must have given something away by the look on his face, because Ryan tilted his head to the side. “You given some thought to settling down at all, little bro?”
Jamie covered his sigh by scoffing. “Are you kidding me? It would be a disservice to the fine young men of Culver County. I’m telling you, it would be downright cruel.”
Anthony chuckled. He’d known Jamie too long. “Yeah, okay, Ace.” He tensed, right before the doorbell rang. “I’ll be right back.” He jumped up.
Jamie leaned over to his brother. “Does he have some kind of weird sixth sense now?”
“I think he just hears people at the door. I don’t know. I don’t ask. It makes him feel good to be a good host.
“He’s never lived on his own before, you know? It was always his mom’s place.” Ryan smiled indulgently. “His mom lives here too, she’s helping us with Marissa, but it’s different. He’s happy, I’m happy, it’s all good.”
Anthony returned, with Jamie’s cousin Phil in tow. “Look who I found!” He beamed. “Hey, Phil, what can I get you?”
Phil held up the case of beer he’d brought with him. “Can’t watch baseball without beer, man.”
Ryan stood up and took the case from him. “I’ll put those in the chill chest. Anthony seems to think we’re supposed to be keeping food in there, but you know. Whatever.” He gave an easy grin, the kind that was coming more and more often to him these days, and followed Anthony into the kitchen.
Phil watched them go. Then he reached into the inside pocket of his blazer. “I got you a top up,” he said in a quiet voice. He passed Jamie a small, brown paper bag, under the cover of the couch.
Jamie took it without looking down. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Phil didn’t say anything else, and Jamie tucked the bag into his own jacket pocket. If Ryan or Anthony were to come in, they’d suspect a drug deal.
Hell, neither of them would be likely to care if it were. They weren’t judgmental, so long as everything was strictly recreational. Jamie just didn’t need Ryan getting involved with this. Big brothers could be so … big brother-ish.
Ryan and Anthony took longer than strictly necessary to get back to the action. “Does it really take that long to put beer in the fridge?” Phil muttered.
Phil was a doctor over at Culvertown General. He worked in the ER, and he was great at his job. Plus Phil being a doctor and working over at the hospital meant he could get medicine on the down low. Unfortunately, it meant that Phil hadn’t had to experience much of the Anthony/Ryan phenomenon.
Seriously, University of Nevada should get some scientists in here. There had to be pheromones involved in the chemistry between those two. Most people took a step back, once they had a kid. It was just the logistics of it all.
Ryan and Anthony still couldn’t keep their hands off of each other.
“My guess is that they’re enjoying a little grown up time,” Jamie suggested. “Let’s not fight it.”
“Ah.” Phil blushed. “Well, then.” He squirmed a little, which Jamie figured was fair enough. No one wanted to think about family in that context. “When Liam gets here, he’ll probably just barge right in.”
“With scorecards,” Jamie agreed. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Phil shuddered. Then he grabbed the remote and found the right TV channel for the game.
Liam showed up a few minutes later. Anthony and Ryan reappeared exactly then, probably because they too knew that Liam wouldn’t be subtle about barging in on them, and they all settled in around the TV for the game.
Jamie relaxed as best he could, but he’d been skimping on his medication to make it last. It was hard for him to settle in against the back of the couch, and that made the whole game uncomfortable. He found it difficult to focus on baseball, too, when he was confronted with the whole scene of Anthony and Ryan living in so much domestic bliss.
Jamie was only twenty four, and in theory he had plenty of time to find someone. After all, when Ryan had been twenty four, he’d been in jail, and look at him now.
Still, the circumstances were different. Ryan had something to fight against, something to offer. Jamie was just Jamie.
Oh, well. His life was actually pretty good, apart from being alone. He was paid well.
He had an amazing home. He had a loving family, and his best friend in the world had just become part of the family. He couldn’t complain about anything at all. He’d be happy with a lover, but he wouldn’t trade his life for anyone else’s.
The next morning found him in his office at work, like most mornings. The Property Development division of Roscoe Industries had an office on the side of a hill overlooking the rest of Culvertown. It had been Jamie’s design, actually, a project he’d done in his sophomore year for his Green Architecture class. The shadow from the hill kept the place cool, but the open design allowed for plenty of natural light. He could be proud of this.
He’d be prouder if he could be doing design work instead of executive work, but here he was.
He reminded himself that he was very lucky. He was only twenty four and in an EVP position. He was getting paid a fortune to do what he did. He had more responsibility at work than anyone else from his graduating class, and he had a lot to be proud of, damn it.
It was duller than dirt, but plenty of people would kill to have it.
Someone knocked on his door. He beckoned toward the window without looking, but he knew by the sound of the newcomer’s feet on the tile floor who’d intruded on his musings.
“Hey, Amanda,” he said, without looking up from his monitor. “What’s up?”
Amanda took a seat across from him. Her technical title was “Assistant to the Executive Vice President.” It was a ridiculous title to give someone with fifteen years of experience and a degree in engineering, but here they were. Amanda was not a Roscoe, and Jamie was, and that was all there was to it.
She didn’t seem to have the inequality on her mind as she leaned forward and put a file folder on his desk. “Hey, Jamie. How’s your morning going?”
“It’s a morning.” He shr
ugged and ignored the pulling sensation in his back. “How about yours?”
She grimaced. “The usual, I guess. Listen, we’ve gotten instructions from On High.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. On High could only mean two people. On High could be Jamie’s mother, Marianna, or his father, Lincoln. Marianna had taken half a step back since the truth had come out about Ryan’s incarceration, so Jamie was going to take a wild guess and say Lincoln had sent the instructions.
But Amanda knew that Jamie didn’t like to be reminded of his parents’ involvement in his career, so she said On High like it could somehow add a layer of insulation. It didn’t help, but they both pretended.
“They want a property assessed for potential sale,” she continued, drumming her perfectly manicured fingernails on the folder. “We bought the place from the previous owner maybe seven years ago, and had plans to develop the land. Surveyors took a look at it and found some problems, so that project was abandoned, but the Powers That Be have decided to re-evaluate their options. They’ve never been big fans of wasted potential.”
“No, no they haven’t.” Jamie glanced toward the window. It wasn’t for him to say what counted as “wasted potential,” either. Both Lincoln and Marianna considered Ryan’s burgeoning garage “wasted potential,” but it was profitable after less than a year in business.
“What were the problems?” He licked his lips and looked out the window again. It was a beautiful day outside, sunny and clear.
“I’m not a hundred percent sure. It’s remote, and up in the mountains. Maybe the difficulty of accessing the site was part of the issue.
“They want someone to go out there and assess the property and figure out if it’s something we can resell or repurpose. There’s a small house on the property, but it’s been vacant for years.”
Jamie sighed. “The thing is, Amanda, I buy the properties. I develop the properties. I don’t sell them. I’m not really qualified to make an assessment of their value.” He massaged his temples.
Amanda smiled again. “Look, it’s not exactly rocket science. Look at the place through a buyer’s eyes — which, let’s face it, you are most of the time. See if you can figure out who might have an interest, and I’ll take care of all of the paperwork. My car won’t handle the mountain roads.”
Jamie shrugged. He wouldn’t mind getting out of the office on a day like today. “Yeah, I guess I can take that on. No harm in getting out and about a little bit, right?”
She beamed at him. “Thanks, Jamie. I owe you.”
Jamie collected his things and got ready to head out. He didn’t have any meetings he cared about, and getting out of the office might be just the thing to clear his head.
He headed into the executive bathroom on his way out the door. The bag Phil had given him yesterday hung heavy in his pocket. He checked the room to make sure he was completely alone, and then he locked the door. The thought of an executive washroom was stupid anyway. Let the execs go and wash up with the regular Joes.
Then he carefully took off his shirts. He reached for the bag Phil had given him yesterday. The label was printed out in block print, generic letters. SILVER SULFADIAZINE.
He sighed and scooped a glob of the stuff out onto his finger. Then he turned around and craned his neck, so he could see the burn in the mirror.
It would be better if he could get someone else to put the medicine onto him, but he wouldn’t want anyone to see him like this. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this.
Anthony had been bad enough, when it first happened. Someone new, someone else, would be too much. No one would do it.
He smeared as much of the cream as he could onto the burn. The he shrugged his way back into the shirt, and headed out to the site. It was some distance out of town; he had a long drive ahead of him.
End of Book – Please Read This
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His Dirty Secret
Aiden Bates
© 2018
Disclaimer
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are all fictitious for the reader’s pleasure. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit content that is intended for ADULTS ONLY (+18).