by Lee Brazil
Sean rubbed his chin with one big hand, tapping the fingers of the other on his desk top as he considered Drake. “Well, I’d say you’ve been seeing him since...last Wednesday. Tuesday we had that bust go bad on the south side. Wednesday you were a royal bastard to be around. By Thursday you were plotting.”
“Not bad. I met Jesse on Tuesday night. Helped change his tire. I thought I screwed things up before we had a chance, but met him for coffee on Wednesday and apologized. He accepted, and we’ve been out a couple of times since then.” Last Friday, he’d been spellbound as he watched Jesse stroll into that bar. His blond hair gleamed in the dim lighting, loose and flowing over his shoulders. He’d taken the time to apply makeup and wore a soft-looking silvery gray sweater that hit mid thigh. The sweater was belted with a wide swathe of supple leather that rested in a knot at his hip over tight skinny jeans and those same boots from Tuesday. Jesse was beautiful, completely androgynous. Every eye in the place, male and female, had followed his progression across the floor to Drake’s side. He’d felt more than a little thrill of pride to be with the man.
After a single drink at the bar, Jesse had casually invited him to attend a pep rally/bonfire on the beach. He’d accepted without hesitation, even though Jesse made it clear that in front of the students there could be no touching of any kind. The experience opened his eyes to who Jesse was on a whole different level. Students swarmed them as soon as they got out of the Mustang, chatting, laughing, and vying for Jesse’s attention. Jesse had given it freely, and the evening had passed quickly.
“So, tell me what I don’t already know?” Sean was a dog with a bone, refusing to give up until he’d pumped every ounce of information possible from Drake.
“He’s a teacher at the performing arts high school. Don’t smirk at me. Not a drama coach or any of those artsy things. He teaches literature and advises the student government. Bakes damned good brownies, too.” Kissed like a dream as well. He hadn’t been expecting it, either.
Jesse’s call on Saturday morning had surprised him, but he’d been pleased to accept the invitation to the pier for the afternoon. The change in Jesse from the night before was startling. He’d switched his seductive sweater and skinny jeans for a sleeveless loose-fitting T-shirt and board shorts in a muted mustard color. His hair had been ruthlessly pulled back into a ponytail and he hadn’t worn a vestige of makeup. This Jesse was just as attractive, somewhat more vulnerable though, as though the absence of makeup left him unguarded.
Jesse had offered him a skateboard, but was willing enough just to walk when he’d declined. After indulging in people-watching as they strolled along the pier, they’d stopped for ice cream at a Cold Stone Creamery. A drip of his plain old-fashioned vanilla with chocolate chips had clung to his lips, and Jesse had shocked him by leaning over and licking it away. It was a small step from a lick to a lingering kiss.
“Sounds perfect. Too good to be true, in fact. What’s wrong with him?” Had his unease communicated itself to Sean somehow? The man really did see too much.
“He’s not in the market for a boyfriend.”
That seemed to startle Sean, who checked his watch and began clearing his own desk. “And you are?”
“With Jesse? Yeah. I think I’d like more than a few dates and some hot sex. I’d like a relationship.” Drake grabbed the papers he’d neglected to fill out and shoved them into a drawer of his desk, turning the lock. And wasn’t that a kick in the pants? First guy since Alexi that he wanted more from, and even casual sex was off the menu.
“So, convince him.” Both men rose from their chairs and headed toward the door.
Sean made it sound easy. Drake just wished it were. “He’s already involved with someone.”
“You’re going to let him go that easily?” Sean gestured Drake to precede him through the door, and they continued down the hall.
“No. You know I’m not. It’s just going to take time. And...there’s something else.” Something that had been troubling him a bit since that kiss at the ice cream shop.
“What? You’re just making excuses. Got some commitment issues of your own, huh?”
“Hardly. There’s just something...It’s like he’s two different people. This cheerful, helpful, chatty, social teacher who’s fun to be around and sexy as hell. I mean, you would know if you saw him Friday night...gorgeous in makeup and heels.” Drake lapsed into contemplation.
“And? What’s the problem, Drake? I know you don’t care about appearances.” Sean stood beside his own car which was parked next to Drake’s SUV, flipping his keys in his hand.
“And then...he’s this complete skater guy with board shorts and Vans who seems to get a thrill out of people-watching and listening to me talk.” He shook his head slowly.
“Maybe he’s schizophrenic. Or maybe he just enjoys a variety of things. Take your time and get to know him. Hey, bring him over some weekend. Lisa would love to meet your new man.”
Drake grimaced. “He’s not mine. Yet.”
“I have confidence in you. You’ll bring him around. Open invitation. When he’s yours, we want to meet him.” Sean slid into his vehicle and drove off to his pregnant wife and happy home.
Drake slipped into his own vehicle, considering his next move. It was his turn to call, to do the inviting. The problem was he didn’t know which Jesse to cater to. Maybe a drink at the bar would be the best choice. That way, whether he showed up looking like a fashion model or a skater boy, he’d be comfortable. Had to decide soon, though; it was after nine, and he knew Jesse would have to work early in the morning.
CHAPTER SIX
Determined not to let too much time elapse between thought and deed, Drake pulled Jesse’s home phone number from his pocket. It might have been a misuse of departmental resources to search for it. He tried to feel bad about that, but couldn’t. Figured the police department and the good citizens owed him some perks for all the missed lunches and unpaid overtime he’d put in over the years. He programmed it into his phone. He planned to make frequent use of the number, to become so much a part of Jesse’s everyday life that he’d be the first one Jesse turned to when things finally ended with the guy who couldn’t kiss. Okay, that was a lame assumption, but it made Drake feel better about being rejected.
He pressed the speed-dial button he’d just programmed in and listened to the ring. A sleepy voice answered. “Hello?”
“Jesse?” He felt a bit foolish, but was vindicated when the answer came.
“No. This is his brother, Jay. Hang on, I’ll get him.” There was a rustle of fabric and murmur of voices, and sooner than he thought possible the voice returned.
“Yes?” Curious. The brother’s voice and Jesse’s were identical.
“Jesse?” he asked, wanting to be sure.
“Yes, it’s Jesse. Who is this, please?” Jesse sounded as sleepy as his brother had. A muffled yawn and the murmur of voices at least confirmed there were two people in the room.
“It’s Drake, Jesse. You told me when we left the pier Saturday to call sometime this week.”
Silence. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice on the phone, Drake. I did tell you to call, didn’t I?”
“Is it too late? You were asleep? I can call in the morning if you prefer.”
More rustling and murmuring followed by the light padding sound of feet on a floor and the running of a faucet. “No. It’s okay. What’s up?”
A thought flashed through his head and he grabbed at it, held it. Couldn’t believe how good it made him feel. “So, you live with your brother, not the boyfriend?” Oh boy. That could get him back in hot water. Why did he speak before thinking around this man?
“Jay? Yes. He’s my brother.” Drake had the sense that Jesse had more to say, but nothing was forthcoming. “Anyway, Drake, I have class early in the morning, and I’m kind of beat.”
Oh, broad hint. Back on focus, Drake. “Yes, well, I called to see if you got your car situation worked out, and I wondered if you wanted
to get a drink after work tomorrow. I’m off at six, and there’s a great bar about halfway between your place and mine. In fact, it’s at the same strip mall where we had coffee last week.”
Drake heard an indrawn breath and then Jesse said, “Refresh my memory. Which one was that exactly?”
“On Robards, where the Starbucks is. You were pretty tired that morning, huh?”
“Yeah. Tired. That would be Cabana Sue’s? I know it. I’ll meet you there at six tomorrow.”
The dead air indicated Jesse had hung up before Drake could formulate a response. How had Jesse managed to meet him at ten that morning when he should have been in school? He’d probably taken a sick day after the long and exhausting night.
***
The hours between the phone call and strolling through the door of Cabana Sue’s were typically slow, but Drake smiled broadly as he automatically selected a seat with his back to the wall at a secluded table with a view of the doors. He’d see Jesse before Jesse saw him. He ordered a cerveza and a round of chips and salsa. If possible, he’d convince Jesse to eat with him before he left. Somehow that seemed like a small victory to him.
He sipped his beer slowly, watching minutes tick past while he pretended not to notice that Jesse was ten minutes late, then fifteen. Some stirring in the air sharpened his attention and he studied the lithe grace of the petite man who stood in the doorway, looking left and right, searching for him. Being the object of that search felt good, really good. He knew the instant Jesse spotted him because his face lit up and a sweet smile curved his plump mouth. And damn, if that didn’t feel even better.
Jesse wore tight-fitting denim today and a silky, blousy white shirt that looked just as good on him as the T-shirt and board shorts he wore on their last date. In place of the black skate shoes he wore heels again and appeared a bit taller as a result. It seemed he’d taken the time to add eyeliner and a touch of lip gloss as well.
Drake narrowed his eyes. Something was different today. The appearance was familiar, a blend of Friday night’s supermodel and Saturday afternoon’s casual. The change was more in his bearing, his attitude. “You talked to your boyfriend about us, didn’t you?”
Blue eyes widened in surprise as Jesse slid into the seat closest to Drake. “I did. How did you know?”
To Drake’s surprise, Jesse leaned in close and brushed his lips over his cheek in greeting. The warmth of Jesse’s thigh close to his own soaked through their jeans, and Drake wished he’d chosen the seat across the table instead. He couldn’t concentrate clearly when Jesse sat this close. He’d learned that in the front seat of his SUV the other day. “You seem confident. Not conflicted.”
Jesse tilted his head and looked up at Drake through his lashes. “Did I seem conflicted before?”
“No. You seemed tired, pissed and shaken.” Blunt. But effective. Jesse straightened his head, his face grew serious, and he turned to face Drake in the small space.
“I talked to my boyfriend. About you.”
“You told him about the kiss? About what I said?” His heart beat faster. Could it come this soon? The breakup he’d predicted?
“I did. I told him all of it.” Jesse reached a hand out and traced a delicate finger along the veins in Drake’s hand where it rested on the table; he tensed, then relaxed into the caress. Small steps. Drake scowled at the waiter who approached the table to take Jesse’s drink order, but it didn’t deter the young man.
“Hey, Jay. What do you want to drink?”
Jesse flinched, then laughed. “I’m not Jay, Emilio. I’m Jesse. Jay’s on the night shift this month. And I’ll have a Long Island iced tea.” Tumblers rolled into place in Drake’s head, but he couldn’t focus on the solution. His body and mind were distracted by the heat and warmth sitting close to him, by the pink tongue tracing slick lips nervously. By the possibilities inherent in that conversation Jesse had had with his boyfriend.
“So,” he persevered as the waiter walked away, looking disappointed. Must have a crush on the brother. “What happened? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” The sudden possibility angered him. He checked Jesse over quickly, looking for any bruises or signs of abuse. Nothing.
“Of course he didn’t hurt me! He’d never hurt me!”
Drake drew in a deep breath. “Okay, sweetheart...please just tell me the story of what happened when you told your boyfriend about me. And you probably should tell me what you told him and if he knows you’re here tonight talking to me.” He kept an eye on the door, expecting a big angry man to come stalking in looking to reclaim Jesse at any moment. Assumptions, he chided. You’re making assumptions again!
“He told me it was okay, that he understood.”
“He understood?” The guy really had to be a fucking idiot. “He understood what exactly?”
“That I want you. That I want to know you better, I mean.” Jesse blushed as beautifully as he did everything else.
“And he was okay with that?” Unbelievable. The man couldn’t possibly be in love with Jesse and “understand” something like that. Every word he heard made Drake more determined to make Jesse his. He could love Jesse properly, kiss him so he’d forget about every other man he’d ever known, and make sure he was safe on the roads and elsewhere.
“Yes, and he wants to meet you.” That surprised Drake. He searched Jesse’s eyes for some sign, of what, he didn’t know. That he could be trusted, maybe. Nothing but intense emotion showed, and...hope?
“He wants to meet me?” Drake’s voice was flat. “Really. Why is that, Jesse?”
“Because when we met before you didn’t know who I was.” The voice came from behind Jesse, but it was Jesse’s voice.
Drake’s head whipped up, and his eyes widened. “Fuck.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Drake’s eyes narrowed, and Jay forced himself to stillness under his scrutiny. Piercing gray eyes gave him the once-over from head to toe. It was nerve-wracking. He counted his breaths, in and out, striving to project a calm he just didn’t feel. This plan might have been the biggest mistake of his and Jesse’s lives, and Lord knew they had certainly made a few.
Drake pointed a blunt finger at him. “I met you last week. We had coffee.” His harsh tone flicked Jay like a whip.
Jay could control his breathing, but some things were beyond human control. Flushing, he nodded. “I’m sorry. We also went down to the pier on Saturday afternoon skateboarding.” He pulled out a chair and seated himself at the little table. The basket of chips and salsa sat neglected by the table’s occupants. Absently he picked up a chip and began breaking small bits off it. “Don’t be mad at Jesse. He didn’t know what I was doing that first time. He was at work.” Drake looked stunned, and Jay knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Drake just stared from him to Jesse and back again. The more silent Drake got, the more Jay felt the urge to fill the empty space.
They should have stuck with the original plan, let him get to know them and then gradually introduce the idea of there being two J. Cahills. He’d forced this revelation too soon. “After you helped Jesse with his tire, I found your number in the laundry, and I wanted to know more about you. So I called. I was...worried about Jesse.”
He could see gears clicking and information falling into place in Drake’s eyes. The big man reached out, downed his beer in one long swallow, and waved a hand for the waiter, ignoring Jesse’s protest. “Tequila,” he ordered brusquely. “Bring the bottle and three glasses.” He shoved the chips closer to Jay and deliberately, it seemed, gathered Jesse’s hand in his. He looked down at Jesse. “You’re the one I met on the highway a week ago Tuesday night.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling.
Jesse nodded, started to speak, but was cut off. “No. Not yet. I need to understand this, who was who when, before anything else. You.” He frowned, pointing at Jay.
Jay squelched the tremor that tried to manifest itself. That voice, those penetrating gray eyes. He shivered. Drake was just too much. “You called me. We m
et at the coffee shop. And then...when I called...yesterday...I spoke first to you, then Jesse.”
“Yes. Jesse met you here last Friday for drinks and the pep rally. I was working. You and I went skateboarding before my shift started Saturday.”
Jay saw Jesse nodding as his own head bobbed. He’d made a neat little pile of chip crumbs on the table in front of himself. Unthinking, he reached out to place his hand on Jesse’s for comfort and support, but saw Drake’s big square hand with its buffed, blunt cut nails just in time. At the last second, before making contact with the two hands on the table already, he veered to the side and swiped Drake’s beer bottle. Shaken, yet somehow pleased with Drake’s protective gesture, he began shredding the label from the bottle strip by strip. He hurt for a whole slew of reasons at this moment. He wanted to yell that Jesse didn’t need protecting from him, that he would never hurt the man he loved in any way. He wanted that protective mantle over his own shoulders, as it was so clearly spread over his brother’s. He wanted the comfort and security of Jesse’s hand clasp, but also of Drake’s. But Drake didn’t know that. How much of the situation had Drake processed? Clearly he had the identical twin thing settled, but had he equated the “boyfriend wants to meet you” with Jay’s arrival?
The waiter approached with the tequila bottle and glasses, his eyes lighting up when he noted Jay. Jay ducked his head hoping to avoid eye contact, but Emilio cooed with happiness and set the contents of the tray on the table. His hand came down on Jay’s shoulder, and he bent close to speak over the growing crowd. “Caro, I missed you lately. You haven’t been in for months. And your naughty brother,” Emilio cast a censorious glance at Jesse, “he told me you were working the night shift.”