The Senator's Secret

by K. C. Wells

  “Here’s a question. Is Steven in on it?”

  Gary skimmed through the e-mail. “Apparently not. All Josh has told him is, now that we’ve officially come out, we’re doing catch-up with all the positive publicity.” He raised his head to meet Sam’s gaze. “So I guess we have to be careful what we say around him, huh?”

  Sam nodded as he rubbed olive oil, salt, pepper, and crushed garlic into the steaks. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Josh wants him to come with us tomorrow afternoon to the SPCA. I’ve got a two-hour shift that can’t be changed.”

  “How long have you been a volunteer?”

  Gary shrugged. “Since I started college, I suppose.” He went back to the e-mail. “Thursday Josh has arranged interviews in Raleigh.”

  Sam stopped, his fingers shining with olive oil. “How many interviews?”

  “Four. The first is with Out.”

  “Out magazine?” Sam’s eyes widened. “Wow. Josh doesn’t pull any punches. We’d better have our stories straight for that one.” He smirked. “Pun intended. Who else?”

  “The Advocate, HuffPost Politics, and Slate.”

  Sam snorted. “We’d better be on the ball for those.” He pursed his lips. “I didn’t think Slate would have been all that interested. They’re not particularly gay-focused.” Sam gave a shrug. “They’re liberal, though. Will Steven be with us for all the interviews too?”

  “Yes, clicking away with his camera. Thursday night we’d better drive to your house in Asheville, because Josh wants Steven to take photos of us at your place the following morning and that afternoon in the Biltmore Village. Saturday Steven’s coming with us to the Biltmore Estate. He wants to take pictures of us walking through the gardens and looking at the house, as if we’re checking it out as a possible venue for the wedding.” Gary had to smile. “Josh thinks of everything, doesn’t he?”

  “From every angle,” Sam added. He left the steaks to rest while he scrubbed a couple of potatoes before drying them, rubbing salt into their skins, and placing them on a baking sheet in the oven.

  Gary’s stomach clenched. The thought of all those interviews and photo ops was a daunting one.

  “What else?” Sam wasn’t looking all that thrilled with the prospect either.

  Why would he—his life has just been turned upside down too.

  “That’s as far as this week goes, but Josh says Steven is putting together a list of places he wants us to visit after that.”

  “He is not coming with us on Sunday, all right?” Sam said firmly. “We’ll have enough coping with my parents without adding a photographer to the mix.” He reached into a deep drawer and pulled out a griddle pan.

  Gary picked up his glass and took a drink. It was going to be a long couple of days.

  DINNER was over, the dishwasher was running, and they were sitting in front of the fireplace, where a fire burned brightly, the logs hissing and crackling. They sat on the bigger of the two couches that faced the window, the sky black beyond the glass.

  Gary had his legs curled up under him, his feet bare. Not for the first time, Sam noticed what a good-looking man he was. He was slim, with short blond hair, although it was longer on top and Gary kept brushing it away from his eyes.

  Sam peered at Gary’s feet next to him on the seat cushion. What is it about bare feet that I find so sexy? He’d been fighting the urge to ask if Gary wanted a foot massage ever since he’d kicked off his shoes and pulled off those cute little socks.

  Then it occurred to him that they were wasting time. This was the perfect chance to get to know each other a little better before they’d be on show with Steven. Sam wasn’t sure where to begin, until he recalled their conversation after his phone call with his mom.

  “Earlier today you mentioned your parents.” Sam couldn’t help noticing how Gary stiffened instantly. “I’m sorry, but I thought maybe it was something I needed to know.”

  Gary took a sip of wine and stared into the fire, its flames casting a warm glow on his face. There was a look of such sadness that Sam’s chest constricted.

  “Forget I asked,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have—”

  Gary held up a hand to silence him. “But you should have. God, we announced to the press today that we’re getting married. That means yes, you should have.” He took another drink, but a longer one this time. “Where I grew up, our house was a stone’s throw from the Pisgah National Forest, and I loved it there. My friends and I did BMX biking on the mountain bike trails that were seconds from my doorstep.”

  Sam said nothing, but studied Gary’s tight face. He had no idea where this was leading, but he figured it was best to keep quiet until Gary was done.

  “So, one day when I was thirteen, I was out with my friends on my bike. It was cold—it was December, after all—but I was in my warm jacket, speeding along the trails that crisscrossed through the forest. We were on those trails as soon as it was light enough, I recall. Well, to cut a long story short, there was this one point where two trails that ran parallel to each other, swerved to converge and then crossed. It was always exciting when we got there, like it was a race to see who got to cross first.”

  Sam winced. “Uh-oh. Sounds like a recipe for an accident.”

  “And it was. I collided with another rider, got flung into a tree, and broke my wrist and my right leg.”

  “Ouch.”

  Gary nodded. “You can say that again. What made it worse was that my parents and I were about to go on vacation. For the first time ever, we were going away for the holidays. Except as soon as I got injured, Mom started talking about canceling.” He scowled. “I couldn’t let them do that. They’d worked really hard to afford the vacation in the first place. And secondly I’d have been miserable if they’d stayed at home and missed out on an exotic vacation because of my stupid biking.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Called Uncle Tim, Mom’s brother, and asked him to talk some sense into them. They took some persuading, I’ll tell you, but eventually they agreed that I’d stay with Uncle Tim while they went to Sumatra.”

  Sam widened his eyes. “Sumatra? Very exotic indeed.” Gary didn’t smile, however, and a horrible suspicion began to form in Sam’s mind. He did the math and didn’t like what he came up with. “December, you said…. December when, exactly?”

  Gary’s eyes caught the firelight. “2004,” he said simply.

  Aw, fuck. “The tsunami,” Sam whispered, aghast. “Were… were their bodies ever recovered?”

  Gary nodded. “It took a while, of course, for all the bodies to be identified, but yeah, my uncle was able to bring them home.” He quickly took another swallow of wine.

  Sam’s heart went out to him. To lose both parents at that age had to have been terrible. “So who brought you up?”

  “My uncle. No grandparents on either side, so there was only him.”

  Sam studied Gary’s expression. “Do you get along with him?”

  Gary did a seesaw motion with his hand. “He was older than my mom and didn’t have any kids. There was just the two of us. We managed to get by, I suppose, but by the time I left for college, I guess I was relieved. It just felt like it had been a legal arrangement and nothing more. We keep in touch. I get a card on my birthday and at Christmas.” His face tightened even more. “And he always calls when it’s the anniversary of their death.”

  “Which has just passed,” Sam said as that realization hit him.

  Gary nodded. “The holidays tend to pass me by. Maybe that will change as I get older.”

  Sam fell silent. He couldn’t begin to comprehend what Gary had gone through. Then he recalled something Gary had said that morning. Was it only this morning when he agreed to all this? It felt longer than that. For one thing, Sam felt like he’d known Gary for longer than two days. “You said your debts had been a weight. Didn’t your parents have life insurance?”

  Gary sighed. “As far as I can make out, they took out a policy when they
got married, but when they died, it only paid out enough for the funerals and part of the money needed to… bring them home. So I’ve always had to work my way through college—hence the debts.”

  Sam tentatively stretched out his hand and covered Gary’s on the seat next to him. “I am so, so sorry your start in life was so traumatic. But if you think about it, breaking bones like that saved your life. Otherwise you’d have been there too.”

  Gary looked him in the eye. “There have been times when that’s crossed my mind. But more often than not, I’ve hated the fact that I lived and they didn’t.” He swallowed. “I still miss them.”

  “Of course you do,” Sam said earnestly. “That’s only natural.”

  “Yeah, but sometimes I find it difficult to recall exactly what they looked like. That’s why I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of saying ‘oopsie.’” He smiled. “It’s like a tiny bit of my mom is still with me.”

  What a sweet thought.

  Sam glanced at the clock over the fireplace and sighed. “Pleasant though this is, we’d better get to bed. We need our beauty sleep if we’re going to look gorgeous for the camera tomorrow.” He batted his lashes.

  Gary laughed, and the joyful sound eased a little of the tension in him. “Yeah, some of us need more sleep than others.”

  Sam gaped. “Excuse me?” he said indignantly.

  Gary’s eyes widened. “Not you,” he squealed. “Me! Why would you need more sleep, you’re gorge—” He bit off the words before they escaped.

  Sam tried not to smile, but damn, it was an effort. He cleared his throat. “And on that note….” He got up off the couch to tend to the fire, his back turned toward Gary to hide his grin.

  He thinks I’m gorgeous. Good to know.

  “I’ll say good night, then,” Gary said, his voice cracking.

  “Good night. Sleep well.”

  Sam waited until all was silent and Gary had gone to his room before drawing in a shuddering breath. My fiancé is a very sexy man. Too bad theirs was an engagement—and marriage—of convenience. He pictured Gary’s face in his mind, the haunting beauty that had been so obvious when he’d spoken about his parents.

  Damn. I could so easily fall for that face.

  What he was discovering was that what lay on the inside was just as beautiful.

  Chapter Six

  Wednesday

  CURTIS came into Sam’s office. “You got a minute?” His gaze flicked to Gary, sitting next to Sam. “Oh, good morning, Gary,” he said absently before giving Sam his full attention.

  Sam sighed. “I thought I wasn’t here to work. We’re meeting the photographer, Steven, this morning.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ll want to see this.” Curtis handed Sam his phone. “Hartsell issued a statement five minutes ago, as a reaction to your press conference yesterday.”

  Lord, was it only yesterday?

  Beside him, Gary groaned.

  Sam peered at the screen and quickly read the short statement. He gave a snort. “He’s just saving face, that’s all. He knows we made him look bad.”

  “What does he say?” Gary asked.

  Sam read aloud from the screen. “‘How nice it was to see Senator Samuel Dalton finally come clean about his sexuality yesterday in a press conference. It is always refreshing when a politician resorts to honesty, even if the senator had needed a prod to force him out. I still have reservations, however, as to his suitability to represent his Christian constituents. Of course, the senator’s private life is his own, and we would not dream of telling him how he should conduct it.’”

  Gary scowled. “That remark about Sam not representing his Christian constituents….”

  “I told you,” Sam said patiently. “He’s just saving face in front of his voters.”

  “Then you need to think again,” Curtis said quietly. “That comment was a direct message to all those voters in North Carolina who think of themselves as religious. Have you any idea what percentage of people fall into that category?”

  Sam stilled, tension creeping across his back. “No, but I’m sure you do.”

  Curtis nodded. “The percentage for the US is 48.78. Here in NC it’s 47.51 percent. I could give you the breakdown of what percentage are Catholic, Baptist, Presbyterian, et cetera, but you don’t need to know that. All you need to know is the figure I just gave you. Because that means 47.51 percent of people in this state will be listening to him.” When Sam handed him back his phone, Curtis tapped the screen with his finger. “We need to keep a close eye on our friend Pastor Hartsell.”

  Sam nodded slowly. “Agreed.”

  A knock at the door had all their heads turning. Josh entered, followed by a tall, thin young man with a large bag slung over one shoulder. “Everyone, this is Steven Pinder. He’s the photographer I told you about. Get used to him, because he’ll be sticking to you two like glue for a while.”

  “Anything we need to know about you, Steven?” Sam asked with a smile. “Any bad habits?”

  “Maybe we should ask him what his politics are,” Curtis said, his manner lighthearted, but Sam knew better.

  Steven nodded briskly. “That’s actually a fair point.” He smiled at Sam. “I voted for you last time, Senator, and it’s looking likely that I’ll do exactly the same this time, especially after yesterday.” When Sam arched his eyebrows, Steven grinned. “That little sh—that pastor had no right outing you like that. And it’s about time we had a few more rainbow flags on show around here.”

  Gary chuckled, and Steven’s face flushed.

  “God, don’t get me wrong. I’m not gay—but my brother is. You should have heard him on the phone to me yesterday.” He laughed. “He said, and I quote, ‘It’s about fucking time.’”

  Sam smiled. “Glad to be working with you, Steven.” He gestured toward Gary. “My fiancé, Gary Mason.”

  Gary gave Steven a polite nod.

  Steven rubbed his hands together briskly. “Any coffee going around here?”

  Curtis snorted. “You’re going to fit right in.”

  “HEY, Gary. We saw the press conference on TV. You kept that quiet!” From behind the SPCA reception desk, Stella grinned at him. “Talk about a dark horse. Why didn’t you tell us you were dating the dishy Senator Dalton?”

  “That might have something to do with the fact that I wasn’t out,” Sam remarked dryly as he came through the door behind Gary.

  Stella’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” She glared at Gary. “You might have said something,” she hissed.

  Sam snickered. “No, trust me, it was much more fun this way.” He gestured to Steven, who had appeared next to him, camera pack in hand. “This is Steven, who is shadowing us today.”

  “And we didn’t say anything because it’s supposed to be business as usual,” Gary added.

  Stella’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, I see. Would you two gentlemen care to sign in, please?”

  Sam and Steven approached her desk and signed in the visitors’ book.

  She thanked them and peered at the clipboard next to her keyboard. “Well, I hope you brought a change of clothing, because you’re giving the dogs a bath this morning.”

  “Really?” Sam grinned. “This might prove highly entertaining.”

  Gary lifted his eyebrows. “Oh, you think so? Well, I’m glad about that, because you’ll be joining me.” He winked at Steven. “That’s right, isn’t it? Josh did say Sam was to get involved?”

  “Oh, totally,” Steven agreed, his face straight.

  “Come on,” Gary told the stunned-looking Sam. “This way.” He tried not to smirk as he led the two men through the hallways until they reached the rooms where all the animal grooming took place. “There’s a wash station here. All the dogs get bathed every one to three months.” He smiled at the young woman who was standing by the wash station. “Hi, Stacey. Looks like I’m taking over for you.”

  Stacey grinned. “Nice timing.” She glanced past Gary to where Sam was standing, looking around the facili
ties. She stared. “Is that…?”

  Gary nodded. “I get to have a helper today.” He snuck a sideways glance at Sam. “A VIP.”

  Stacey bit her lip. “Then I might stick around.” She removed her long blue apron and handed it to Gary.

  “Why?”

  She gave him an innocent look. “Oh, no special reason.”

  Gary began to get a bad feeling. “Who’s next on the list?”

  That innocent expression didn’t alter. “Dinky.”

  Sam snorted. “Dinky? What is he, a Chihuahua?”

  Gary fired him a hard stare. “Hey, don’t laugh. It’s the little dogs that are the worst when it comes to bath time.” He returned his attention to Stacey. “Dinky? Really? He had a bath last week.” His stomach churned. This was not good.

  “Yeah. I don’t know what he’s been rolling around in, but God, he stinks.” Stacey stepped away from the wash station. “I’ll go fetch him.” She left the room, her shoulders shaking.

  “Why is she laughing?” Sam whispered.

  “You’ll know soon enough,” Gary said. He put the apron over his head and reached into the drawer of a nearby cabinet to find another. “Here, put this on.” He glanced over at Steven. “And I recommend you take any photos from over there. You wouldn’t want to get your camera wet.”

  Steven stared. “From over here?” He did as instructed, however, removing his camera from its bag and peering through the viewfinder.

  “He’s out here,” Stacey called from the connecting room.

  “Why didn’t she bring him in?” Sam asked as they stepped toward the other room.

  Gary snorted. “Probably because he didn’t want to come in here.”

  Sam laughed. “Didn’t want to? What kind of a—dear Lord!”

  Dinky lay on his belly, paws stretched out in front of him. All two hundred pounds of black, glossy-haired Newfoundland. He raised his muzzle slowly and eyed Gary with what could only be described as mistrust.