So, reluctantly, I shook my head yet again and focused on the task at hand—getting the floor clean. “Thanks for the invitation, but I know that Woody left some stuff in the oven and I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings by not eating it.” Weak, as excuses went, but it was all I could think of at the moment.
“You sure that’s the only reason?”
I looked up and caught his stare. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but there was no way I would be sharing my thoughts on the matter. “What other reason would there be?” I replied, emptying the dustpan into a nearby garbage can.
“I don’t know, but there is the fact that every time I’ve asked you over, you refuse. There must be a reason.”
Oh dear. “It’s not like that.”
René crossed his arms on his chest. “Then tell me what it’s like, because I’m about to be highly offended.”
“Why is this such a big deal anyway? I’m doing a job for you, and I don’t want things to become…weird.”
He threw his hands into the air. “You’re making things weird! I thought we were friends, or something like it. If nothing else, we bond over pastry. Can’t we be more than employer and employee?”
I set the broom in a corner. “What good would that do? It would only make me want—” I needed to shut the hell up.
“Want what?” René insisted, following me as I turned out the lights, then locked up the building after gathering my stuff.
Shit. I should learn to zip my lips. I haphazardly stashed everything in the truck. It was in the fifties right now, which was mild, for February.
I turned to face René, the security light in front of the premises shining above us. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t mean to offend you, okay? I really do have food at home and I’m tired after a long hard day. All I want is a shower and to relax in front of the TV while watching Jessica Jones.” Please believe me.
René searched my face, then sighed. “Fine. But the next time I ask you over, you’d better say ‘yes.’”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I guess that’s better than nothing.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you Monday for your hot chocolate?”
I may never wash that cheek again. I mustered up a smile. “Wild horses couldn’t stop me.”
* * * *
March brought brisk winds, rain, and intermittent warmer temperatures as I finally finished the façade for the new bakery. It also meant that René could start his PR campaign for the new franchise.
With St. Patrick’s Day looming, the town was in the throes of bar crawls, parades, and everything green. I started the day a little behind on said holiday, so when I opened the door to the bakery, it took me a second to realize that someone not René was behind the counter.
“Hi?” I said, not sure what was going on.
“Hey, you must be Serge,” the stranger said before preparing my hot chocolate just the way I liked it.
“Where’s René?” I asked after nodding my thanks for the cocoa. René must have told him my preferences.
“He has the flu and called me to man the shop for a few days. Name’s Bryce, by the way.” He gave me a friendly smile, which I returned.
“Nice to meet you, Bryce.” I studied him. “You look familiar. Were you at René’s house that one time I came over?”
“Yeah. I remember you and that wine-red turtleneck. Totally hot, by the way, though I knew I didn’t stand a chance since you were blind to everyone but René.” He winked at me.
“I—” I hadn’t been that obvious, had I?
“Not to worry, I’m not poaching on his turf. But I’m sure he’d love a visit from you. He’s real grouchy when he’s sick, and none of us can get him to smile or sit still. Maybe you can.”
What turf? “I’ll stop in on my way home from work this evening. I’m sure he appreciates your help.” René was really lucky to have such dedicated friends. “You a pastry chef, or something?”
Bryce nodded. “Yup. René’s trying to convince me to work in that new place you’re fixing up for him. I haven’t decided yet.”
Wow. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then? If you’re staying with him right now?”
“Yup, I’ll be there, along with the rest of the gang. Hey, you want anything to go with your drink?”
I’d almost forgotten. “Yeah.” I gave him my list of items, and after paying, left with a wave.
I wanted to go straight to René’s house, but it was too early, and I really did have work to do. I kept my head to the grindstone and got a lot accomplished by the time I stopped for the day at seven.
* * * *
After cleaning up at home, I drove to René’s place. The same cars were parked in his driveway like before. I turned off the engine and got out. No music played this time around. I went up to the door and rang the bell.
Seconds later, the door opened, and it was Bryce. “Come in, Serge. You might as well go up to René’s room. He’s been in a foul mood all day and a general pain. Maybe you can sweeten his temper.” He led the way upstairs, waving at the other guys hanging out in the same room in which they’d been partying months ago.
“I like that dark green shirt, so you know. A little enthusiastic with the starch, though, weren’t you?” He chuckled, but it didn’t sound mean.
“Yeah, well…” I’d wanted to look perfect.
He waved aside my misgivings. “I understand. Here we are.” He knocked on a door at the end of the corridor, then opened it. “You have a visitor, you old grouch,” Bryce said and gently pushed me into the room before closing the door behind me.
I turned to say, “Hey,” but stopped, since I was talking to wood instead of a person. I swung around, face flushed to view a tired-looking René propped up on a ton of pillows with a couple boxes of tissues on a nearby nightstand.
I pulled up a chair and sat next to his bed. “I know you wanted me to come over to your place again, but there are better ways, you know?” I said, trying out a smile as I looked him over. He appeared weak and washed out.
“Yeah,” he rasped, “but hey, now you’re here!” Then he launched into a coughing fit.
I rubbed his back as he practically hacked up a lung.
When he was done, he collapsed against the pillows and closed his eyes. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You just need to take it easy for a while. You’ve got some good friends out there, you know? They seem to be willing to do anything for you, even run your shop for a while.”
René smiled. “They’re the best. We’ve been there for each other through some interesting times. It creates a strong bond.” He coughed a little, then wiped his nose on a tissue. “So did you like Bryce’s pastries better than mine?”
I laughed. “Are you worried that my obsessive hero-worship of your baked goods will be transferred to another? Don’t be. His delicacies were wonderful, but they don’t have your touch. There’s something you do to everything you bake that makes each pastry special. I don’t know what it is. I love—”
I caught René staring at me.
“What?” I asked, realizing I’d been running off at the mouth, as usual.
“You know,” he said quietly, “if I were feeling one hundred percent right now, I’d kiss you.”
I sat back in my chair. “Why?”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Serge,” he said, voice weak. “We’ve been dancing around this for a long time. You practically drool over me when you’re in the shop, and I know it’s not just the stuff I have for sale. You’re into me, and I’m telling you now, I’m into you, too. What’s the problem?”
* * * *
The fact that he knew about my embarrassing crush made me want to sink into the floor. How not cool was I to act like that?
I stared at him. “I don’t have anything to offer, compared to you and all your friends. I don’t fit into your world, and as much as I might want to have something with you, I…can’t.”
“God, you’re
such a stubborn little shit!” It was the first time I’d ever heard him swear. He shook his head. “Can you ask Bryce to get me some water please?”
Caught off guard by his segue, I said, “Uh, sure.”
I left the room and walked to the area where René’s friends were gathered, watching an episode of Vikings. I went up to Bryce where he sat and whispered René’s request into his ear.
He nodded and kissed the mouth of his companion before following me into the corridor. “I’ll get it. You go back up there and keep him company. It’s the quietest and most undemanding he’s been in days, bless you.”
I shrugged and went to the bedroom to sit next to René again, who glared and pouted at the same time, if that were possible. “I want to take you out on a date.”
“Not this again.”
“What do I have to do to convince you?”
“Convince him to do what?” Bryce asked as he entered with two bottles of water.
“Go out on a date with me,” René groused as he took one of the bottles and removed the cap.
Bryce looked at me like I was too dumb to live. “What’s the problem?”
I hissed. “There’s no problem. I said no and he’s being difficult.”
Bryce sat on the edge of René’s bed and stared me down. “So you’re telling me the reason you over-starched your shirt, cut your jaw shaving, and took the time to perfectly style your hair with gel was because you’re not interested in my man here.”
“See?” René said. “I’m not the only one who gets it.” He drank more water, then continued. “He seems to think I’m way out of his league. We all are, apparently.”
“Bullshit,” was Bryce’s terse response. “Every last one of us came from humble beginnings. It took hard work and dedication to make something of ourselves, despite our backgrounds. Sounds like you’re using that as an excuse. Are you a coward, Serge?”
I was stung by his words, but couldn’t deny their possible truth. Before I could respond, René yelled, “Bryce!” before once again succumbing to a coughing fit.
I waited until he’d gotten himself under control before I stood. “Bryce, you know nothing about me or what my motivations are, especially in this situation. In fact, it’s none of your goddamn business.” I turned to René. “You get well soon, okay? The new place will be done by the end of the month, and you can sign off on the paperwork then.”
I left the room, closing the door behind me as I heard Bryce and René bickering in the background. Time to make myself scarce anyway.
* * * *
I stayed away from the bakery after that, as much as it pained me, and got my baked goods—mediocre as they were—from the grocery store. For one thing, I didn’t want to see Bryce, and for another, I didn’t want to run into René, once he was well again, until I was ready to sign off on the shop.
By April, the job was completed, and I prepared the documents for René to sign on a Sunday afternoon in the diner. We’d already done a walkthrough, everything kept strictly business despite his attempts at more, then I’d left him to do a closer inspection on his own after that.
That day had been the first time I’d seen him in person since he’d been sick, aside from walking down the street or in a store somewhere. It wasn’t that my desire for him had diminished. I just didn’t think it was a good idea to torture myself pointlessly regarding an impossible future together. I was a new business owner, struggling to make ends meet after having failed in a previous job, whereas he was a world-renowned pastry chef.
I entered the restaurant, busy as it was for a mild spring day, and looked around for René. He waved me over from a booth in the back and I headed in that direction. The remains of a meal were on the table before him. I placed a file folder and a pen near his plate as I sat across from him.
“Satisfied with everything from your walkthrough?” I asked, tapping my fingers on the table and trying to ignore how wonderful he smelled. A mixture of cinnamon, vanilla, and spice. I told my dick to shut the fuck up and willed my stomach not to growl.
René frowned. “Hello to you, too, Serge.” He shook his head and focused on the documents before him.
Bertha, the owner of the diner, stopped by to clear the table. “You want coffee, hon?” she asked, and I shook my head. “Okay, well the sheriff and his hot boyfriend just came in, case you want to say ‘hello.’ They’re over by the main door.”
I hadn’t told them I’d be coming here today. Hopefully things wouldn’t be awkward, like them teasing me pointedly about my obsession. “Thanks for letting me know.”
She smiled and walked off.
I fidgeted for fifteen minutes as René took his time going over every inch of the documents. Finally, he signed the marked pages, then handed me an envelope. “You did really great work, Serge. I’m pleased with the results.”
“Thank you,” I replied as I stood and gathered the documents. “I’ll get out of your hair. Got a smaller project to work on this week and then we’ll see what I do next.” I held out my hand to shake his. “It was a pleasure working with you.” And I meant it.
He stood and took my hand in both of his, his gaze searching mine. “The pleasure was mine, Serge, and I’m sorry about Bryce and, well, me, for that matter. I’m used to guys who—”
I held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I realize I was obvious as hell around you, and Bryce called me on my shit. Still doesn’t change the fact that I…Well, what’s the point? See you around.”
I left quickly, waving at Rafe and Woody as I left the diner and headed for my truck, which was parked in front of the hardware store. Before I could unlock the door, though, a hand on my arm brought me to a halt. I looked up. It was René.
“You’re always running away from me. Why is that?” he asked, crowding me against the door. God, he smelled terrific, and he felt hard everywhere he touched me, especially…whoa. Was that his cock saying “hello”?
“What are you…? Did I forget something?” My brain was foggy. Can you blame me?
“Yes. This.” And then, René Glass placed his slightly cool hands on my face, and in front of the entire town of locals and tourists, kissed me as though his life depended on it.
* * * *
Later that evening, at the cabin, I sat in the workshop I shared with Woody, watching as he bent over a folding bench and picnic table combo.
“So I saw René chasing after you this afternoon,” he began as he sanded one of the legs.
My cheeks felt hot even as I rolled my eyes. “He wasn’t chasing me.”
He removed the protective eyewear and placed it on a worktable. “Uh, yeah, he was. You still in denial?”
“Nothing to deny. It’s just not a good idea.”
“So you’re saying, it was okay when you were ogling him from afar, but now that he’s noticed, you’re backing away? What’s wrong with you? The man is a catch, hot as hell, successful, and he’s interested in you. What’s the big deal?”
I grew frustrated. “Look at me, Woody. I’m nothing like Rafe, the big bad sheriff, or you, upcoming director at the school. I’m just an ordinary guy trying to make ends meet. Nothing special. You should see the kinds of people he hangs out with. No way I can match up to that.”
Woody frowned. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. What should it matter? It didn’t seem like he cared about things like that, especially when he kissed you, and I might point out, you kissed him right back before pushing him away and tearing off in the truck with your tail between your legs.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “You saw all that? That’s just perfect.”
“Stop judging yourself on what you think is best for René and go with what you really want.”
I shook my head and stood. “I don’t know. It’s hard. I’ve always felt like I was second-best, to everyone. You, Rafe…didn’t matter.”
Woody looked shocked. “You can’t mean that, Serge.”
I shrugged. “It’s the way I feel. The way I’ve always
felt.”
“Have I done anything to make you feel this way? If so, I’m so sorry.” His concern made me feel bad.
“Nah. It’s just my insecurities talking. Don’t know how to get past them, though.” I gave my best friend a quick hug. “I’ll be fine.”
I left Woody working on his project and went to stand in front of the cabin and stare at the ocean below. That kiss by the truck had made my knees so weak, I’d had to grab hold of René’s shirt so I didn’t fall down and make an even bigger fool of myself. Could I do what he wanted?
I crossed my arms on my chest. I had always seen myself as the bratty little brother who managed to scrape by with grades and get into college on work-study. And then I was laid-off from my job after several years kissing ass. Running my own business might not set the universe on fire, but I’d thought I could finally carve out a niche for myself and be proud of my accomplishments.
And then René came along with his charm and fantastic pastries, and I realized that I badly wanted this man, and I’d never be good enough. How could I ever hold his interest for long?
* * * *
By Saturday, I’d finished a job at a nearby house, fixing the roof and replacing the deck. I got home by five o’clock, knowing there would be no one there since Rafe and Woody had taken the weekend to go up the coast.
I got out of the truck, put away my stuff in the workshop, and trudged up to the front door. Before I could unlock it, I heard a car pull into the driveway. I turned around and dropped my keys, surprised at the sight of René getting out of his vehicle and walking toward me, paper bag in hand.
I gathered my scattered thoughts enough to ask, “What the hell are you doing here, René?”
He didn’t respond until he was right in front of me. I could see the myriad shades of brown in his eyes and tried not to notice his moist lips. He smelled like toffee.
“Woody stopped by the bakery to tell me that he and Rafe would be out of town today and tomorrow until late afternoon, should I want to stop by and make my case again. With pastries, this time.” He held up the paper bag, a knowing smirk on his face as my stomach did a Pavlovian growl. Traitor.
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