Love Wins

by David C. Dawson

  “I like to watch Food Network.” Ashley grinned.

  The bell over the front door jingled, signaling the entrance of a customer.

  “Gotta go. I’ll be back to check on you later, Kirk.” He gave Kirk a saucy wink and sauntered away, greeting the newcomers—a man and woman—with a cheery hello. As soon as he’d gone, Kirk’s sister took his place.

  “You drinking that or letting it sit there and look pretty?” Jen asked.

  Belatedly, Kirk realized he’d forgotten he even had coffee. Instead of answering, he raised the cup and took a sip. Still hot. No harm done.

  “I see you met Ashley.” Jen planted her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands as she regarded him. “So, what did you think?”

  “What do you mean what did I think? I just met him. What am I supposed to think?”

  “Oh, I dunno. Maybe he’s really nice, and sweet… and kinda easy on the eyes.”

  She winked at Kirk. Too much winking going on tonight for his taste.

  “I guess. If you like that type.”

  Jen hooted. “That type? Seriously? Since when do you have a type? Jeez.”

  Kirk flinched. Generally he abhorred stereotypes, preferring to think outside the box. And here he was, sounding just like his parents. Which, in a way, was what had driven him crazy at work tonight.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Bad night.”

  “Aw, tell me what happened,” she said sympathetically, taking his hands in hers.

  “It’ll sound silly if I tell you,” he said.

  “I want to hear,” Jen insisted.

  Sure, why not. “Not much to tell. Tyler was on break, and a couple wanted to talk to the sommelier, so I went out to their table,” he began.

  “So far so good.”

  “They were interested in the Roquefort platter and wanted a suggestion for a good wine to pair with it.”

  “What did you say?” Jen asked, listening with obvious interest.

  Kirk hesitated for a second before responding. “I suggested a demi-sec champagne,” he said. “I thought it would go well, and they seemed inclined for something sweet, so I recommended a brand I know is very good.”

  “What was wrong with that?”

  “Tyler had a cow when I went to get the bottle. He said the sauvignon blanc was the only decent choice, and I was crazy to suggest otherwise. He took over the table, told me to go on break.”

  Kirk’s hands, inside Jen’s grasp, tightened at the memory. She gripped him in return, as if willing him to calm down.

  “I know he’s over you…,” she said.

  “Yeah, that’s what being head sommelier means. He’ll always be over me. That was a perfectly legitimate selection. He had no business interfering.”

  “Let me guess. Mom and Dad took his side?”

  “Would you expect anything else?” Kirk couldn’t even look at his sister, hurt pride and humiliation welling up inside him.

  “I understand better than anyone,” she said softly. “That’s why I’m here and not there.”

  Kirk knew that was true, and sometimes he wished he were as strong as his sister. But he wasn’t. He kept on taking it, from his parents and from his brother. And hated himself for doing it.

  But one day… one day he’d show them, and he’d be himself. If only that day would come.

  “SO, I hear you’re having sleep issues?”

  “Somebody has a big mouth,” Kirk muttered as Ashley placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. He’d occupied the same booth for the past three hours, never moving except for occasional trips to the men’s room. Normally he’d be at home by now. Long abed and not asleep. But he hadn’t been able to tear himself away from Sweeties tonight. And he’d never even opened his wish book. Not once.

  Actually, it was day now, the sun just peeking through the east-facing windows of the diner, tinting the plastic-topped tables in a creamy egg-yolk orange glow. He should really head home, but the thought held no appeal.

  “You think maybe cutting back on your caffeine intake might help?”

  “I think it doesn’t matter. Same thing happens whether I drink coffee or juice.” Kirk shrugged. “I just can’t sleep more than a couple of hours a night. Three, if I’m lucky.”

  “Why is that?” Ashley asked. “How do you function on so little sleep?” His fair brows were drawn together in concern.

  “I just do.” Kirk shrugged. “What choice do I have?”

  Ashley slid into the booth next to Kirk. They’d been sitting together off and on all night, in between customers. And every time, Ashley sat just a little bit closer than the time before, gravitating toward Kirk. Now they sat hip to hip, so close Kirk felt the warmth of the other man’s body only too well.

  Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Jennifer lately. Or Jazzy. Why hadn’t he even noticed?

  “I’m off in just a few minutes,” Ashley confided in a soft voice.

  “You are? What time is it?”

  “Going on six.”

  Kirk groaned. “I guess I should go.” He reached into an inside jacket pocket, but Ashley’s hand on his arm stopped him cold.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Leaving a tip, of course. I’ve monopolized this booth all night, it’s only fair.”

  “No,” Ashley said firmly. “I don’t want your money, so don’t bother.”

  “But…,” Kirk protested.

  “But nothing. I just wanted to be with you. That’s all. You don’t have to pay me for that.”

  A flustered Kirk withdrew his hand. “I should do something,” he said. “I’ve been bending your ear for what… three hours? You deserve some kind of compensation.”

  “Come home with me,” Ashley quickly replied.

  “What?”

  “Come back to my house with me. We don’t have to do anything. Just be with me.”

  “Be with you?” Kirk echoed.

  “Yes, but not in the Biblical sense.”

  Ashley smiled, and Kirk couldn’t help but notice he had a very lovely smile. Even so, they’d only just met.

  “I don’t know…,” he waffled. But he did know. He’d be lying to himself if he said he’d never had a one-night stand before, because he had. Not that he always knew going into it that was the way it would turn out, but it often did. Maybe he set his standards too high. Impossibly high. Maybe he just liked being disappointed, because it justified all his failures, in a weird sort of self-fulfilling prophecy.

  And maybe it was too early in the morning for such philosophical discussions. Ashley was damn attractive, he was here…. And he was willing. So why not?

  Ashley leaned up, and before Kirk realized what was happening, a pair of soft lips had claimed his own, kissing him with a constrained gentleness Kirk had never experienced before. Damn, that felt good. Without thinking twice, his dick made the decision for him.

  “All right, just for a little while. Then I have to go home and try to get some sleep.”

  Ashley just smiled and kissed him again.

  “MAKE YOURSELF at home.” Ashley unlocked the door to his apartment and pushed it open, waving Kirk inside. He dropped his key onto a dark oval table next to the couch. A flat-screen TV hung on the wall. A slightly scuffed and worn-looking dresser completed the furniture inventory of the studio apartment. “I was lucky to get this place. It’s right on the bus line and just a short ride from work. And it’s reasonably priced. That’s something you don’t often see around here.”

  At first glance, this place was a far cry from the upscale apartment Kirk shared with his brother, but there was something about it that was infinitely more comfortable. What furniture there was looked as though it were meant to be used, not admired. Plus it had the additional benefit of Tyler not being there. Everything in the single room was neat and clean. No dishes piled in the sink, no dirty clothes strewn across the floor. Kirk was impressed in spite of himself. Not quite what he’d expected from a guy Ashley’s age, even though only six years
separated them.

  Ashley crossed the pecan hardwood floor to the refrigerator in the kitchenette and poked his head inside. “Want some juice? I have guava and mango.”

  “Guava sounds good.”

  Ashley brought out two small cans and closed the door. Handing one to Kirk, he seated himself beside him on the sofa.

  Kirk laid his wish book on the table, out of harm’s way. “Thank you,” he said.

  “I figured you might like a change from coffee.” Ashley grinned.

  “Not a bad idea,” Kirk admitted. He’d drunk more than usual tonight, he knew. But then he didn’t usually end up sitting at Sweeties until daybreak either.

  Ashley pulled the tab on his juice can and took a drink. “So,” he began, “have you ever considered being straight with your brother about the things he does that bother you?”

  During the wee hours of the night, Kirk had found himself telling Ashley things he’d never told anyone else before. About the situation with his family and their restaurant. How Tyler was their golden boy who could do no wrong in his parents’ eyes. His dreams and aspirations, his visions of the future. He’d found Ashley to be a good and interested listener.

  “It wouldn’t help,” he said frankly. “He’d tell me I’m the one with the problem. God forbid he take the blame for anything.”

  “Then maybe you should move out?” Ashley suggested. “Let him have the apartment and find a place of your own.”

  “I can’t afford it,” Kirk said. “I’m saving everything I can to get a place of my own. Restaurants aren’t cheap, especially not out here.” He knew he had champagne tastes and a privileged childhood. Growing up in the Sonoma Valley, he’d lacked for nothing. He’d had everything—except maybe the love and respect of his parents. Other people had a lot less, though, didn’t they? And they managed.

  “Have you tried talking to your mom and dad?”

  “Why? They never hear a word I say. They think the sun rises and sets on Tyler, so whatever the problem is, it must be my fault.” When had he become so bitter? Six years of living under the same roof as his brother, not to mention working under him at Venezia, had sucked the joy of life right out of him.

  “Shh, shh, don’t talk like that. You’re a good man.” Ashley’s voice was soothing, his hand gentle as he lightly caressed Kirk’s face.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” Kirk suggested, even as he found himself relaxing into Ashley’s touch. “What about you? You’ve been listening to me bellyache all night, I want to know something about you.”

  “I’ll tell you, but only under one condition.”

  Kirk quirked his brows at Ashley. This was something unexpected. What kind of game was Ashley playing? And why was Kirk so interested in knowing what this mysterious condition was? “What is it?”

  “That we do it while lying in bed.”

  Kirk was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected that. Did he want to take this to the next level? Despite his attraction to Ashley, a part of him was afraid of reducing their fledgling relationship to a matter of sex so quickly. One brain was saying not so fast, while the second one was demanding he go for it. Now.

  “No, not like that. I’m not looking for that from you. I just want to hold you and be held by you tonight. That’s all.”

  “You just want to talk? That’s all?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Ashley confirmed. Rising from the sofa as he spoke, he tugged Kirk up along with him. Together they pulled out the sofa bed to its full length and added the pillows Ashley kept in his closet.

  “I sleep in the nude, I hope you don’t mind,” Ashley informed him as he began to strip.

  Kirk certainly had no objection. And since he didn’t carry his pajamas with him, he assumed he should follow suit, even if he was just going to end up lying there while Ashley slept. The prospect was not a displeasing one.

  Once they’d both stripped, Ashley pulled back the blanket and top sheet, and they climbed into the bed.

  “How do you want to lie?” Ashley asked. “Facing me? Or did you want to spoon?”

  Spooning sounded good, but Kirk wasn’t quite there yet. “I’d like to face you. At least while we talk.”

  Ashley smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

  They situated themselves comfortably, all things considered. It had been a while since Kirk had slept with another man. He’d forgotten how pleasant the warmth of a man’s body could be.

  “So, you were going to tell me about yourself,” Kirk prompted.

  “Yeah, I am,” Ashley said.

  He pulled Kirk in for a kiss first. The touch of his lips was sweet and held the promise of so much more.

  “C’mere.”

  He drew Kirk’s head onto his chest. Kirk could feel the steady beat of Ashley’s heart beneath him, a rhythmic pulse. Ashley’s hands gently stroked his back in a soothing motion.

  Ashley spoke of his parents, of their love for him and his siblings. Of their lives, weaving a picture of family intimacy that was totally unfamiliar to Kirk. Somewhere in the middle of Ashley’s story, Kirk fell asleep. Deeply and soundly.

  AN UNACCUSTOMED languor stole over Kirk, but it was not a feeling born of weariness or lack of sleep. It was something more subtle… more sensual. Kirk was actually sleeping through the night now, his insomnia seemingly a thing of the past. Now his nightly visits to Sweeties had nothing to do with not being able to sleep. Quite the opposite—he came because of the man who had miraculously given him the ability to sleep Kirk had lacked for so long.

  Ashley. He owed his peace of mind all to the blond who had invited Kirk into his bed and made sleep possible. How he did that, Kirk had no idea. But for the past week, he’d gone home with Ashley every night, after he finished his shift at the diner, and he woke there the next morning, fully refreshed and ready to face the world.

  They’d fallen into a nightly routine of sorts. Once they reached Ashley’s apartment, they’d start out sitting on Ashley’s comfortable sofa, where Kirk would talk about his evening at Venezia, the customers he’d waited on, the wines he’d recommended. Ashley was an attentive listener, and Kirk found himself revealing more of himself with each passing day. He spoke of the restaurant he would own someday and showed him the wish book that contained his ideas.

  Ashley was impressed with everything Kirk showed him and encouraged him to follow his dreams. As for himself, he had no real goals. He was just taking life one day at a time and enjoying the moment.

  Once they were talked out for the night, they’d go to bed. But despite what Jennifer and Jazzy took for granted—their approval evident in the warm smiles they reserved for the two men—their sleeping together was just that, sleeping. A strictly platonic arrangement, one that seemed to work for both of them. Although sometimes Kirk caught himself wondering why that was, and whose idea it was. But he didn’t think about it too hard, lest he look a gift horse in the mouth and ruin what they had.

  Jennifer and Jazzy also utilized Kirk in the kitchen. “Since you’re here anyway,” his sister would say. He didn’t mind. He enjoyed cooking, and the customers were enthusiastic in their appreciation of his culinary efforts. Since he’d begun cooking more often, business had picked up in the wee hours of the night, which could only be good for Kirk’s sister and her wife.

  “Kirk, look alive!” a harsh voice grated behind him.

  Kirk automatically straightened. He’d been taking a break in one of Venezia’s back rooms, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. Leave it to his brother to barge in without warning. Normally, Kirk would curse Tyler under his breath, angry that his brother had found fault with him. Again. But lately he just couldn’t seem to care what Tyler said or did.

  “I’m not due back on the floor yet,” he said, locking eyes with his brother as if daring him to argue.

  Tyler seemed a little taken aback at that but quickly caught himself. “I just wanted to let you know you have a guest.”

  Was that a hint of a smile playing about Tyler’s
lips? Kirk frowned.

  “A guest?” A customer, no doubt. Someone who wanted to call upon his skills as a sommelier. That must grate on his brother, that someone would actually want Kirk’s opinion rather than Tyler’s on a matter of wine. But the next moment, Tyler neatly deflated that idea.

  “Yeah, some blond kid. Says he works at Sweeties.”

  Tyler’s smile was decidedly vicious now. He held nothing but contempt for the diner where their sister and her wife worked. Kirk didn’t think Tyler and Jennifer had even spoken in several years. Not like his family had holiday dinners or anything—they worked through them all. So no occasions for family get-togethers.

  And then his brother’s words began to hit home. Ashley. It had to be, but why? Sure, he’d mentioned where he worked, but he never dreamed Ashley would ever consider showing up here. He knew how much money Ashley made at Sweeties. He couldn’t even begin to afford the overinflated prices his parents charged.

  But maybe Ashley wasn’t paying for dinner. Maybe he was with someone. A date, perhaps?

  That thought sent a shock wave straight to Kirk’s heart, one he quickly quelled. He had no claim on Ashley. They shared nothing but bed space. It was only natural Ashley would want more than a bed partner. But if so, where would that leave Kirk? Where he’d been before, no doubt. Wide awake and stressed out. He shook his head to clear it.

  “Where did you seat them?” he asked brusquely.

  “Not them, just him. He’s sitting by himself at a two-top on Marlon’s station.”

  Kirk refrained from groaning. Marlon was a man-hungry, manipulative son of a bitch who ate up young men like Ashley alive. He needed to get out there before something untoward happened.

  “Something wrong, brother?” Tyler asked in a voice that fairly dripped with faux concern. Kirk didn’t bother to reply, hastening in the direction of the restaurant proper.

  His heart was thumping unaccustomedly, but he wasn’t sure why. Was it simply because he knew Ashley was here, or was it something worse? Ashley was out of place here, like a fish out of water. Was he afraid Ashley would be an embarrassment he just didn’t need? His position at Venezia was precarious enough, what with his parents’ snobbery and their obvious predisposition to favor Tyler. What would they think of their younger son if they knew he was sleeping with a server from a diner such as Sweeties, the lowest of the low in their estimation?