The Lemonade Stand

by Jo Tannah

  Who’d have thought that when life hands you lemonade, it could taste oh, so sweet?

  Being home for the summer wasn’t something Ian Hamilton had planned on, but his mother surprising everyone with a fourth baby was also sort of unplanned. Ian’s father slowly going bonkers coping with sleepless nights, feeding the new baby, and dealing with Ian’s twelve-year-old twin sisters complicates things even more.

  Michael Alexander had moved back into his parents’ home last summer, just until he could find an apartment nearer the hospital where he works. His parents had offered to look for him, but that was over six months ago.

  One summer day, Michael gets home exhausted, only to find a Lemonade Stand set up on the curb of his driveway, making it impossible to park his car. Expecting to see his neighbour’s twin girls, he’s surprised when he finds a young man instead. A gorgeous young man who gives him a glass of lemonade and a flirty smile.

  Please note: To maintain the authenticity of the characters and setting of this story, the authors have made a conscious decision to use Australian English and terminology.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The Lemonade Stand

  Copyright © 2017 Jo Tannah and Ann Mickan

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-1122-0

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

  Look for us online at:

  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  The Lemonade Stand

  Prelude to the Boys Next Door Series

  By

  Jo Tannah and Ann Mickan

  Dedication

  Jo Tannah and Ann Mickan met online through a mutual friend at the time. Their respect for each other as writers, people of high ethics, and keen senses of humour, soon formed a friendship that outgrew their initial contact. After going back and forth, helping each other develop and prepare their own stories, they decided to have a go at co-authoring—the result is The Lemonade Stand.

  This short story is dedicated to all those who have dreamed of, or enjoyed, a fun summer romance like Michael and Ian.

  Jo and Ann often found themselves in fits of laughter while writing this story, so much so that a decision was quickly made that the boys had more to share with the world. The Lemonade Stand will soon be followed by Boys Next Door: The Next Chapter.

  Chapter One

  Michael

  One of the best things about living with your parents was that you could come home at any time of the day knowing there would be food ready and waiting. One of the worst things was getting teased about it at work, but he could live with that. They could tease all they wanted—he didn’t have to tell them he actually enjoyed staying with his folks. Not because he was a failure or anything. No. On the contrary, he was quite successful, if one were to consider snagging a hospital non-specialist job a success. He was only in his first year of residency, but the long hours and lack of sleep meant he had no time to deal with the mundane tasks of housekeeping, much less cooking meals for himself or doing the laundry. The only thing he really missed was getting enough sex.

  Michael didn’t consider himself a player, especially not a slut, but he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d kissed a guy. Thinking about it, he couldn’t remember what the last guy looked like, or his name. He’d studied too long and hard to get through medical school, then for the licensing, and recently had passed his general practice experience. He still had a long way to go, and thanks to his work in the public hospital, he was earning enough to help his father financially.

  Of course, his father had argued he didn’t really need the money, but Michael had insisted. His mother and father were not getting any younger and needed all the help they could get. He was their only child, and they had given up a lot so he could pursue his dreams of becoming a doctor. Now that he was back home, he couldn’t find it in himself to slack on his responsibilities.

  When he’d come home over eight months ago, he had agreed with his parents that his stay would only be temporary. Once he found an apartment, he would move out and be independent. His father volunteered to look for an apartment for him or even a small house. Michael had thanked him and that was the last they had talked about it.

  He’d had a difficult night shift and was on his way home. Michael couldn’t wait to eat the breakfast he knew his mother would have ready for him, take a shower, and go to sleep. The term bone-tired had always fascinated him when he’d first heard it, now he wished he never had. He was beyond tired to the bones. Right now, he wanted to prop his lids up with something just to keep them open.

  There was a lemonade stand in front of his parents’ house, and Michael groaned. Who would be stupid enough to put up a lemonade stand at ten in the morning, right beside the entrance of their driveway? Must be the twins.

  Michael shook his head as he slowed down and manoeuvred his car to park on the sidewalk in front of his house. Even if he weren’t tired, if he’d insisted on driving in, he would have grazed the stand and ruined his paint job. Thoughts of having to deal with the manic duo, as he liked to call his neighbour’s twin girls, already exhausted him. The only good thing about them was that they were pretty. Other than that, they were pretty adventurous. Belatedly, he remembered the twins were most likely acting out because of the new addition to their family. He’d helped their mother deliver her baby in the hospital only a week ago. The new-again parents were most likely still adjusting to the newborn’s schedule.

  He closed the door and clicked on the fob to lock the car, before walking up to the stand. It wasn’t really a stand, just a table and two white plastic chairs, a tray with an iced pitcher of yellow liquid in it, and a folded cardboard sign with the word Lemonade on it.

  Michael laughed under his breath at the sheer ingenuity and uniqueness of the stand. All he had to do was talk the twins into taking their stand somewhere else. Like a foot over to their side of the property line, so he could park his car. Didn’t they realise his car could get towed should the local police spot it?

  Craning his neck, he didn’t see anyone manning the stand, then a door slammed from somewhere. Michael’s head snapped up at the sound and he turned in the direction it came from. From his neighbour’s side entrance, right next to his parents’ house, walked a tall, young man Michael judged to be in his early twenties. With his head bent, all Michael could see were wide shoulders and a mop of dark hair. The man raised a fist to his mouth and gave a big yawn, showing Michael even white teeth and a familiar face.

  The man opened his eyes and stopped mid-yawn when he met his gaze. For a moment, time stood still. Michael recognised him now. Ian Hamilton. The last time he’d seen him he’d been a head shorter and had a black eye from a fight with a classmate.
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  “Michael? Is that you?”

  Later, Michael couldn’t say who did or said what first. It was like he was watching from a distance. Ian putting his arms around him in a man-hug and him not wanting to let go of the solid muscles he suddenly found stuck to him.

  By the time Michael shook his head clear, he was sitting on a plastic chair behind the stand beside Ian, a glass of cold lemonade in his hand. From the sweet tasting tang of lemon in his mouth, Michael knew he’d been drinking some. When Ian handed him a phone, he looked down at it and wondered when the exchange had happened. His head snapped up when Ian spoke.

  “So, what time are you picking me up tonight?”

  * * * *

  Ian

  His first year at Uni had been a hard grind of study and work, and the place he’d planned on spending his summer vacation was not at home with his suddenly expanded family. The plan had been for him and some of the guys to take their savings and head up to Byron Bay for as many weeks of sun, surf, and sex as they could afford before making their way back to Sydney and a new year of classes. Well, that hadn’t happened—obviously. The guys had enjoyed a few laughs at his expense, slapped him on the back, and taken off without him. He had chosen to come home and help his parents through an unplanned rough patch.

  He wouldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t disappointed about missing the trip with his friends—what twenty-year-old guy would be happy about that? And he certainly wasn’t happy about sharing a house with a newborn baby. What he was enjoying was those little jibes he could land on his father about the perils of unprotected sex—it was the ultimate revenge for when his father had sat him down for that talk when he’d been fifteen. It had probably been the single most horrifying moment of both their lives, so much so that Ian was secretly pleased he wouldn’t ever have to go through that again since the arrival of Karissa meant it was Mum’s turn from now on.

  Ian had arrived home the same night as his newest sister had made a hurried entrance into the world. They hadn’t been expecting her until a week later, but it was good that he was there to sit with Jenny and Lyssa when their parents had made the late-night dash to the hospital. Luckily, the twins had slept through the whole thing, otherwise he would have found himself occupying the twelve-year-olds at the hospital. There was no way they would have been left at home. They had been fascinated by the idea of having a new baby in the house, although Ian was sure they hadn’t understood the realities of that until the last couple days. He was sure they’d been expecting a quiet bundle of pink fluff that was only awake when it suited you, never made disgusting smelly messes in its nappy, and most certainly didn’t cry for hours on end. But, all credit to them, they were persevering, convinced that Karissa just had to get to know them and she would be fine.

  Their mum had been resting a lot since the birth, which was understandable. Not many women were meant to have babies in their late forties, especially after a twelve-year gap. This had been hard on her physically and it would take her a while to recover. But his dad—oh heavens, he was a basket case and had been since they’d found out about the pregnancy. The night they had rushed off to the hospital, he’d been so nervous that he barely made it out of the house. How he’d made it through the delivery was still a mystery that Ian didn’t want to know too much about. But during the last week at home, coping with late-night feeds and sleeplessness, as well as the twins, he was slowly going bonkers.

  Ian guessed that missing his summer of fun in the sun was a small price to pay for helping keep his family sane, but he was going to have to look around for some sort of distraction soon.

  It came as no surprise that the twins had come up with a hair-brained scheme to raise money for some cause or other over their school holidays, they usually did. This year they’d decided they wanted to adopt a kitten from the RSPCA. Since Mum and Dad weren’t forthcoming with the money, they decided to raise enough money to save a kitten and make a sizeable donation as well. While that was an admirable idea, Ian had somehow been seconded to act as their assistant. He thought he’d be dropping them off to sell raffle tickets at the local grocery store or mall, but no—these girls had decided on a lemonade stand out in front of their house.

  So much for sitting back at the mall and sipping on a frozen soda, or coffee, and scanning the local talent. He was destined to be the slave of two mini-dictators until they raised enough money to liberate some feline diva. He saw himself lugging bags of ice and jugs of lemonade, that was being manufactured in their kitchen from the cartons of lemons he was collecting from the local fruit shop, out to the roadside stand they’d set up for weeks. It was tempting to just give the girls the money to save them all from slaving in the hot Australian summer sun, but he knew they were supposed to be learning a lesson... just seemed that the lesson was about how to manipulate an unwilling big brother into being your slave.

  Here they were, their first morning in business, and where were the budding entrepreneurs? They were upstairs helping bathe their new baby sister. And where was he? Ian had been left to man the stand until they were done. He’d known this would happen... girls! They were a complication he could do without, that’s for sure.

  As he made his way out the side door and down the driveway, he fought the exhaustion that had followed him from the day before, covering a yawn as he walked. When he looked up, he was momentarily shocked by the vision he saw standing by the makeshift stand. It was every one of his teenage dreams in the flesh, just five years older, he was sure of it.

  Michael Alexander. He wasn’t just the gorgeous guy who’d lived next door, he was the reason Ian knew he was gay and the one who’d patched him up when the kids at school had found out. Not that he’d told Michael the reason for that black eye.

  “Michael? Is that you?” he called out as he approached and threw his arms around him. “I’ve missed you... how’ve you been?”

  Well, that felt all sorts of amazing. He’d never touched Michael before and the rush that flooded through his body reminded him of just how big a part of his teenage years the man in front of him had been. He’d been the reason he’d wanted to go to bed at night, so he could dream about him... and he’d been the reason he’d woken during the night, in a lather of sweat and fighting to control his body’s raging reactions to those dreams.

  He led him to the plastic chairs at the stand and poured him them both a glass of lemonade. He chatted about how they should catch up since they were both back in Newcastle, and maybe they could go and get fish and chips down by the surf later. Michael had been absently agreeing to everything he suggested, even handing over each other’s mobile phone to exchange numbers. After watching Michael swallow a long drink of the ice-cold lemonade and slowly lick the excess from his lips, he could feel the familiar reaction building inside and knew he had to spend some time alone with the man in front of him. Ian handed him back his phone.

  “So... what time are you picking me up tonight?” Ian casually asked.

  Chapter Two

  Michael

  His head jerked up at the question, but then Ian licked his lips. His gaze fell on the shiny, full bottom lip, and he stared at it, mesmerised at how plump and delicious looking it was. Michael wondered what it would taste like.

  “Michael, mate, yoo-hoo.”

  Michael jerked his head back and blinked owlishly at the snapping fingers in front of him. What?

  “You okay, mate?”

  “Uhm...” Why can’t I focus?

  “What time are you picking me up tonight?”

  Michael squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, trying to clear them of the fog that had blurred his vision and dulled his thinking. “Uhm... I... “

  “Look, it’s obvious you’re tired. So why don’t you go get some sleep? I’ll give you a call around six so you have enough time to take a shower and we can go, like, around seven or so?”

  Michael nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from Ian’s eyes. They twinkled nicely. “Ye
ah, sounds good.”

  A smile curved on Ian’s mouth as they stared at each other before Michael’s heart faltered. He’d never realised Ian’s eyes were that curious shade between grey and blue. When he’d patched him up all those years ago, he remembered how dark and stormy they’d been, especially when they looked at him. Right now, they were that same stormy grey, but this time he recognised the lust in them.

  Ian continued to talk, but the words flew over his head as his eyes were drawn once more to those plump lips. He wondered how they would feel against his. He licked his lips, wondering if they would taste like lemonade.

  “You can always come closer and take a taste.”

  Michael took in a deep breath, released it slowly, and looked up. Ian’s face featured an angular jaw, high cheekbones, and a nose with a bump in the middle. He remembered when that nose got broken, it had accompanied the black eye.

  Michael couldn’t help himself and threw caution to the wind. He put his hands to Ian’s face to angle his head up just a bit and licked those delectable lips. He groaned. They tasted exactly as he’d imagined and he took another lick. No, they tasted better than he’d imagined.

  Ian hummed against his mouth. “Michael? I think you need to sleep.”

  The words didn’t register and Michael leaned closer. “You taste so good.”

  “Whoa! Mate, we’re like in the middle of the street. And I think I just saw Mrs. Morrison peeking out her window.”

  At the mention of the street gossip’s name, Michael jumped to his feet.

  Fuck, what am I thinking—licking Ian?