Question Mark

by Culpepper, S. E.

  Zane didn’t want to pull in the drive because he’d block in a silver Lexus and an older Toyota so he parked across the street and cut his engine, sending up a couple gibberish prayers as his thoughts turned to putty. This was it. The moment.

  Hell, his stomach hurt. If he had to throw up, where was the best place to do it?

  He thrust open the heavy truck door and slid out, nonchalantly scanning the house’s façade for any signs of life. Just then the screen door opened and Mark stepped out onto the porch in all his glory, a pair of shorts, sneakers and a t-shirt displaying him to perfection. Zane was thrilled he hadn’t under dressed with his own jeans and Diesel button-down.

  Mark waved and jogged toward him, his pecs moving beneath the fabric of his shirt and shorting out Zane’s link to earth.

  He pushed his door all the way open and leaned against it, one hand bracing him. “You look…” he began as Mark crossed the street, “fucking irresistible. Damn.”

  Mark laughed and with the sun on his face, Zane saw the excitement in his eyes. “And you’re not bad, either. For a heartthrob and all.”

  For a moment, Zane didn’t know how he should act—if Mark’s parents were watching, or if it was inappropriate to reach out and grab him—but in the end, Zane followed his instinct and tugged Mark into a tight embrace. A grunt of pleasure that came straight from his toes escaped and his nerves settled down. Praise be.

  Mark ran his hands up and down from Zane’s waist to his ribcage and leaned back to look up into his face. “I should’ve left Bora Bora a helluva lot sooner,” he whispered.

  Zane watched him for several seconds but didn’t kiss him; he felt too exposed. Instead, he slowly reached up with a hand and ran his thumb over Mark’s bottom lip. “It’s you. For real.”

  Mark’s lips parted at the slight pressure and Zane had to bite down on his tongue to keep from grinding into him or something more indecent. Screwing in the roadway was generally frowned upon by law enforcement officials.

  Mark pressed a kiss against Zane’s knuckles and stepped back, not letting go of his hand. The distance allowed the oxygen to start moving through Zane’s brain again and the impact of the moment curled back into a safe, delicious feeling.

  “Your truck is amazing,” Mark said, moving further away to get a better look and bringing Zane with him. “What year is this?”

  “1962. I had a white one in high school, but my mom sold it when I left for college. I told myself I’d get another and really fix it up. Luckily, this was in excellent condition when I bought it at auction, so I only had to get a tune up and re-paint it.”

  The old Chevy was done in a custom blue silver that Zand had begged the guys at Foose Designs to customize. Their schedule was so busy that he had to wait until they could squeeze him in, but the end results were phenomenal. The concept artwork that Chip Foose drew before they began the work was framed in Zane’s office at home and Zane still looked at the final product in wonder—especially since he only got to drive it every once in a while when he was in town.

  “It’s beautiful. My br—”

  “I’m tired of peeking through the curtains at you two,” a voice shouted from the porch as Mark groaned and rolled his eyes.

  “I’m sorry for whatever my brother is about to do,” Mark said under his breath and Zane turned to see a bigger version of Mark, except for the man’s dark eyes, chugging their direction. The guy was enthusiasm with legs. At the end of the driveway he abruptly stopped short and stared, his mouth dropping open.

  Zane tugged off his sunglasses and moved to offer his hand when Mark’s brother hollered, “You sneaky bastard!” startling him.

  Laughing, the guy rushed Mark and picked him up like a sack of potatoes. Any attempt at fending him off failed. Zane wondered if he should get involved, but he didn’t have to because once Mark was dumped unceremoniously on the lawn, he turned back to Zane with an outstretched hand.

  “Reid Newland,” he said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “All night long I’m busting on this asshole trying to find out who his new guy is and he’s playing coy, right? ‘Oh, you’ll see tomorrow!’ he says. It’s only the goddamn Mercenary! How you doing, man?”

  Zane found himself smiling instantly at Reid’s energy, so it caught him totally off guard when Reid tugged his hand and pulled him close enough to growl, “Break his heart and Sean and I will shred your pretty face to pieces. Yeah?” He dropped his hold instantly and moved to take a look at the truck.

  “This is sexy,” he announced, gazing longingly at the truck. “Can I get inside?”

  Zane realized that he still hadn’t spoken a word and shook himself to say yes. He glanced back at Mark who was up and patting grass off of his shorts. As Reid likely intended, Mark hadn’t heard the threat.

  “You’ll have to forgive him,” Mark said apologetically, closing the distance between them until they were shoulder to shoulder watching Reid. “He’s the middle child and does anything for attention.”

  “Screw you!” Reid sang in a ridiculous falsetto from the driver’s seat while Zane blinked stupidly and tried very hard to act natural. He could only imagine what the rest of the family would be like.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A steady stream of conversation was flowing around the kitchen table and Mark, trying to be circumspect, was sneaking looks at Zane as often as he could. His “friend” seemed comfortable—speaking easily with his dad and mom—but how much of that was really Zane? He was one of the best actors out there and it wouldn’t take much to pretend that this little lunch with Mark’s family wasn’t sapping his will to live. If Zane was faking it, though, Mark had to thank him. His mom would never forget this day.

  When Zane arrived, only Mark’s dad and Reid were home. Mark had kept the whole family in suspense about who was visiting and his mom was so thrilled he was seeing someone new that when she went fishing for information she was hard to fend off. When she came into the house she was chatting about her garden club like all of them had been at the meeting with her. His dad and Reid pretended to fall asleep where they were sitting in matching recliners.

  Really enjoying her subject, she was still all begonias this and rhododendrons that until Zane stood up to meet her from where he was sitting on the couch.

  Frozen mid-word, she stared for a long moment, glanced at her husband and sons, and then put her hands on her hips like she did when she was confused. “Now, you look an awful lot like that Zane Whitlow to me.”

  Mark hid a smile behind a throw pillow and watched as Zane stepped around the coffee table. “I get that a lot,” he said, extending a hand.

  So hot.

  “I’m Patty Newland. You’ve met my husband, Brad.” She shook and then held onto his hand as she looked him over with a gleam in her eyes. “You know, you may look like that actor, but the only way I can tell for sure you’re him is if I see that six-pack.”

  “Ma!” Mark barked as Zane reddened and Reid and his dad cracked up.

  His mom pointed a finger at Mark to shush him. “I don’t want to hear it. You come to town after making me think this whole week you’d be in Tahiti, tell me someone’s coming to the house that we haven’t met, and then try to pass off a look-alike.” She shook her head and grabbed Zane’s hand again. “You understand. We all have to do our part for homeland security. You could be an imposter.”

  Zane was smiling while Mark was groaning. “Mom. This is why we don’t introduce you to people.” He pressed the pillow into his face fighting the urge to get hysterical.

  Patty pulled Zane close to give him a peck on the cheek and released him. “I’m teasing you, Zane,” she said. “We’ll wait until after lunch to see your abs.”

  “Maybe I should just do crunches while you guys eat, then,” he offered, winking at Mark as he peeked up from behind the pillow.

  Patty giggled—she actually giggled. “Only if I can monitor your progress through the window.” When Mark shot up from his seat, she rolled her eyes. “Lighten up, Mark;
we’re not running off together. He’s gay. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

  Mark appealed to his dad, who only shrugged back, happy to let his wife bulldoze the introduction.

  “Come on, Zane,” she gestured toward the bags of food she left by the door. “Help me carry all this stuff in.”

  Zane did as he was told, hefting the bags and following Patty into the kitchen with a patient expression.

  “Better get used to it, man,” Reid said as he passed by. “She loves the guy. We took her to see Innuendos last weekend and she was drooling over him—and that was knowing he plays a psycho in it.”

  God. Sometimes his mom was so weird. Mark’s lips lifted when he pictured her trying to get a peek at Zane’s stomach. Not even a second later he heard her voice from the kitchen:

  “Tell me, how does People magazine figure out you’re the Sexiest Man Alive?”

  ***

  It was nearly two o’clock when Mark was finally on his way out of his parents’ house and alone with Zane. Waiting for him to show up that morning was incredibly nerve-racking, not only because Mark liked him so much, but because Reid was there purposely trying to agitate him. It was exactly like high school when Mark was “dating” Tiffany Stetmeyer. Like he wasn’t miserable enough dating a girl while wishing she was a guy—maybe the pitcher on the baseball team he’d given a blow job at a random party, perhaps—but he had to be dragged over the coals by Reid and Sean before he went out.

  “Do you need us to describe second base so you can see it coming?”

  Ugh, it was terrible.

  Lunch went really well at least, and his mom was paperwork and a couple signatures away from trying to elope with Zane. Thank God she hadn’t peppered him with questions about what he did for a living the entire time, though she was a tad overeager concerning how they’d met—fluttering those eyelashes and patting Mark on the shoulder as Zane told the short version.

  The only truly painful bit was her tour of the house, with an emphasis on Mark’s old bedroom that still sported relics of his misspent youth—not to mention the fucking picture of him and Rafe on the dresser.

  She couldn’t have taken that sucker down after the dude dropped my ass?

  The irritation downshifted to resignation when he realized she’d left the framed photograph out hoping that they’d get back together, not knowing Zane was in his life. Mark couldn’t blame her because he’d hoped the same thing for far too long.

  He’d been trying to casually slink over to the picture and block it with his body when Zane’s eyes lighted on it and devoured every detail: Rafe’s arms around his shoulders from behind as they sat on the steps of his parents’ back deck. The smiles. The way Mark wasn’t looking into the damn camera, but at Rafe instead, like he’d never been more in love.

  Brilliant. Why didn’t they drag out the pictures of him with braces, too. Totally mortifying.

  Zane didn’t say anything and laughed with his mom about the books on the shelves before following her through the rest of the house. The only indication that the picture might still be on his mind was when his mom left them standing alone in the den and Zane turned on Mark with burning eyes. Closing the distance between them so quickly Mark backed against the rose-and-lilac-papered walls; Zane was a hot and intimidating force.

  He gazed at Mark, their faces only inches apart, and without closing his eyes or saying a word, he dipped his head and nipped Mark’s bottom lip hard enough to make him take notice. The possessiveness in the move was startlingly sexy and honest-to-God arousing. Zane hadn’t touched him anywhere else but his lips, yet Mark’s entire body tingled as though he’d been caressed all over.

  Now they were together and climbing into the truck cab. Mark felt wired for sound. His family had been a buffer and suddenly, with no one talking and only the length of the bench seat between them, the air seemed to crackle with possibility. He wanted to fidget and squirm against the uncomfortable sensation.

  Reid was backing out of their mom and dad’s driveway, honking the horn goodbye. He had to rehearse at his band mate’s house for a gig that night that the whole family was supposed to see. So Mark and Zane would go over to Reid’s and be there for a while. Alone.

  Desire swam into Mark’s gut and he took deep, calming breaths in through his nose as Zane started the truck with a low rumble. Mark saw that there was a GPS, but to give himself something to do, he offered up directions.

  Zane shifted into gear and gave him a veiled look. “You alright over there?”

  “Sure. Yeah. Sure.”

  “You’re family’s really great. A lot of fun.”

  “By really great do you mean frightening, or over the top, maybe?” Mark asked, relieved that they weren’t talking about who it was in that damned picture on his old dresser.

  “I like them,” Zane smiled. “They’re real. Your mom is funny and you’re dad looks so much like you I almost called him Mark a couple times.”

  “Reid means well,” said Mark when Zane paused.

  Zane gave a mysterious little half-smile, his hand still guiding the truck easily through the gears. “Makes me wish I had brothers. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be around all three of you at once, but I totally dig the way Reid doesn’t give a shit. No apologies for who he is…”

  “What aren’t you saying?” Mark pointed out their next turn.

  “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Maybe it’s just that I don’t get to be around a lot of people who don’t have some kind of an angle they’re working. There’s a lot of fawning and fakeness that you can’t take seriously. It’s nice to talk to someone and know that you’re not being set up. Hollywood has probably made me too skeptical, though being wary has saved my ass from a lot of screwy deals. But you—and your family—you’re genuine, you know? It’s…refreshing, I guess, and it throws me off a little.”

  Mark nodded, aware of the compliment he was receiving, then gave a wide grin. “Well, as much as she might like to see them, I don’t think my mom will make you show her your abs.”

  The look Zane turned on him made Mark’s toes curl and started a very pleasant stirring south of his belly button and north of his knees. “That’s good ‘cause I sort of prefer to do that kind of thing in private.”

  Mark was so busy busting a sweat staving off his erection that he almost missed their turn. Zane followed his jerky pointing and made it without a problem, braking, downshifting, and rolling through without missing a beat. His forearms flexed as he gripped the steering wheel and his perfect hand was enticing on the gear shift. Mark wanted to reach out and stroke that skin so badly, but…

  No games, right? Why hide that you want him? He thought to himself.

  Without taking time to convince himself to stop, he reached out and smoothed his fingertips over the firm skin of that forearm, the slight roughness of the arm hair causing him to grit his teeth against another wave of oh yeaaaah. Zane gave him a startled look and sucked in a breath through his teeth. He didn’t pull away and the temperature in the truck’s cab seemed to leap several degrees.

  Neither of them said a word the rest of the trip to Reid’s, Mark’s hand still light on Zane’s arm—now at his elbow, now gripping his wrist. Zane moaned low in his throat at the silken pressure. Good grief, his skin was so warm beneath Mark’s hand.

  He released Zane only when they had to park in the driveway. Popping open his door, Mark stepped out of the cab with shaking legs and a near crippling hard-on in his shorts. He didn’t look at the other man as he led the way inside, using the spare key that Reid hid on the porch. Each step Mark took, Zane was there, that signature saunter following right behind him. His body was like a scorching brand near Mark’s back and goose bumps skittered over his flesh in anxious anticipation.

  Mark headed straight for the guest room, unable to even point things out around the house on the way. His heart was grooving in his chest, his skin was tight over his body and the tension in his muscles was making him restless; he was tot
ally on edge.

  Mark froze a few feet from the bed he’d haphazardly made that morning and couldn’t even turn when he heard the sound of the door latching shut behind him. There were footsteps drawing closer and that glorious heat near his back as his eyes flickered shut. It’d been so long since anything like this had happened.

  “Look at me, Mark.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Zane’s voice was low and level as he spoke—the absolute opposite of how he felt inside. Mark was driving him out of his mind! How could he keep his hands off him now? Zane wanted to be a gentleman; give them time to take it to the next level. He didn’t think he could resist anymore, even knowing Mark might not be single. Fuck!

  That earlier kiss, as childish as it was, was meant to be a punishment for Mark daring to have another man in his life. It was stark jealousy on Zane’s part. Nothing more. The picture flashed through Zane’s head for the hundredth time—that black-haired, ice-eyed man smiling into the camera while Mark stared up at him so obviously in love. It was bothering Zane because that photo was clearly recent—within a year maybe?—and all he wanted was to crawl into Mark’s memories and wipe that slick-looking guy away. Thinking of it again had the possessive monster rising in his chest.

  Mark still hadn’t moved and Zane’s eyes narrowed. He knew the attraction was deepening between them and all day Mark was stealing looks at him, stirring him up with casual touches. So why wouldn’t he turn around? Why wouldn’t he face him?

  God. He’s really not single. He’s been jerking me around.

  In a voice that was rough with emotion, he spoke again. “Look at me.”

  Mark stiffened for a second before he lifted both his hands and ran them through his hair, turning to face him. His chest was heaving with each breath and with a quick flick of the eyes, Zane took it all in: The arousal straining against Mark’s shorts, the uncertain expression, the uneven breathing… His own cock went taut.