With a little nod, Eli set one of the sugar bags into his cart and strolled off, whistling to himself. Ash was smitten. There was no other word for it, and he wasn’t going to miss another opportunity to talk with Eli. He wanted to see whether or not those teasing glances they’d exchanged had meant anything or if they were just the product of his lustful imagination and too many months without sex.
Ash took his time following after him. Eli’s jeans were cut just right, faded, and clinging to an ass that seemed too round for a man who was as long and lean as he looked. It was a truly inspiring, erotic sight. Eli had to be a good couple inches taller than Ash, though not as broad in the shoulders. Ash noticed other details that he had missed before, such as the warm, gleaming highlights in Eli’s hair and the way he didn’t seem entirely aware of the world as he went about filling his cart. The way he moved spoke of lean muscle concealed beneath his clothes.
Ash closed the distance between them as Eli paused halfway down the aisle, cocking his head. Abruptly the man turned his cart around, almost crashing it into Ash’s. “Oops, I’m sorry, I….”
Eli’s eyes widened in recognition as he focused on Ash, startled out of whatever he had been thinking about so hard. He had beautiful eyes. They were a blue-gray, the irises outlined with a much darker gray, and framed by long, red-brown lashes. They reminded Ash of a seer’s eyes, of someone who had his attention riveted on some other time or world. His eyes were the color of the sky on a winter’s day, that pale steel in the morning when the day hovered between the promise of snow and possible sunshine.
Dear God, at this rate, the man was going to have him composing bad poetry. With Ash’s skills, very bad, make people laugh poetry. Damn, he must be punch-drunk tired. He was going to make a fool out of himself.
“It’s okay, no harm done,” Ash said, his anticipation rising.
Eli’s gaze flicked over Ash in his jeans and T-shirt. “My cousin told me that she saw you in cammies a couple times. Marine Corps Reserves?”
“Very good,” Ash said, another slow grin crossing his lips. “Out of Londonderry. How’d you guess?”
“The haircut is a dead giveaway. And I don’t know of any other Marine Corps units within driving distance, except for the Reserve one. It does help that half my family is in one branch of the military or another. My dad was Air Force.” Eli moved his cart over, nodding to another woman Ash vaguely recognized from around town.
“Ma’am.” Ash nodded and pulled his cart over as well, so they’d stop blocking the aisle, and then turned his attention back to Eli. “A flyboy?” Ash didn’t really have anything against the Air Force, not like some of the guys in his unit, who thought they all were a bunch of pansies. It had always been Ash’s opinion that they were all serving, each in their own way.
“Yeah, he loved flying, loved taking off in a Strike Eagle, and would’ve given his left arm to have jumped a Tomcat off an aircraft carrier just once. Mom used to tease him about joining the wrong branch. He finally retired last year after saying he was finished God knows how long ago, but kept reenlisting. Thought my mom was going to tear out her hair.” Eli paused, then his mouth quirked in a self-deprecating grin. “I’m sorry; I’ll ramble forever if you let me.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I don’t mind.” Eli had the kind of rich voice Ash could listen to for hours. Add to it his expressive features and slightly upturned nose, and Ash was entranced. Ash realized he was staring and stuck out his hand, not wanting to appear rude. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself at Dingers. I’m Ash.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Ash. My cousin told me you’d gotten a place nearby.” When Eli shook his hand with a firm grip, a little ripple of awareness went through him. Eli’s eyes widened just a fraction as if he felt it, too, and the reaction filled Ash with a warm sense of pleasure. “Small towns being what they are, and all, when anything new happens it’s discussed to death until the next new thing appears.”
“And you’re Eli,” Ash said with a grin, realizing that Eli wasn’t kidding when he said he had a tendency to ramble. There went his bit of hopeful conceit that he had Eli flustered. “Jonas told me your name.” He’d tried to get more details out of Neil during one of their poker games only to be told that he was there to play, not to jibber jabber.
“I’m sorry, I’m not normally so rude,” Eli said. “I think you caught me on a scatterbrained day. I just got back into town a few days ago and I’m still trying to get settled before the week starts.”
“Maybe just a little,” Ash said and the affable grin on Eli’s face told him Eli was probably used to the teasing. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing.” In his opinion, it was damn cute.
“Lu is going to be upset if I don’t get these to her. I’m already running behind as usual.” Eli gestured to the cart with a look of regret. “Are you on duty tonight? Dingers is going to be hopping with the Red Sox playing the Yankees. Why don’t you come on by? We could talk some more.”
Got him. Ash grinned. His intuition had been dead-on, and he hadn’t been this glad to be right in a long while. “Should be a good game. Aren’t they battling for the wild card?”
“They’re focusing on the pennant race. I’m sure it’ll heat up and get exciting before it’s settled.” Eli’s eyes gleamed with the zeal of a true baseball fanatic, and Ash laughed in recognition of a fellow lover of the sport. He was sure the night was going to heat up and get exciting too. If it was up to him, baseball would have little to do with it.
The initial interest that had struck Ash when he’d first seen Eli was quickly replaced with longing. He wanted Eli. He wanted to see him stretched out naked underneath him, all long limbs and tumbled hair, his eyes darkened with desire and that playful smile on his lips.
“I’ll take you up on it.” Ash moved his cart again as someone tried to reach between them for an item on the shelf. “Sorry, sir.” They were monopolizing the aisle, but he couldn’t bring himself to really feel bad about doing so. “What time does the game start?”
“Seven thirty, but you might want to get there a little earlier. Tables tend to fill up, especially on game nights.”
“And I suppose it’s strictly American League territory.”
“That’s a safe bet. As long as you don’t wear a Yankees cap you’ll be okay. Neil lets that slide with the college kids who come, but anyone else is asking for a night of mocking.” Eli paused and gave Ash a considering glance. “You’re not a Yankee fan, are you?” The tone of his voice said there were some things that just couldn’t be overlooked.
“Please, the accent isn’t a dead giveaway? Atlanta Braves all the way, my friend. Though my baby sister is living in New York City now and has been converted.”
“Oh well, there’s one in every family.” Eli gave a mocking little sigh, his eyes flashing with humor. “Atlanta Braves, hmmm? The man of my dreams couldn’t be in the military, have devastating looks, and be a Red Sox fan, as well. There just isn’t that much luck in the world. Maybe you’re not a grand slam, but I’d definitely say you’re at least a three-run homer.”
Oh wow, a teaser. Ash had missed that. The last guy he’d dated had been entirely too uptight. Ash laughed and murmured an apology to another customer trying to reach around him.
“Well, I’ll see what I can do to change your opinion by the end of the night. See you at seven, Eli.” With that, he strolled off, anticipation making him forget all about his earlier intention to sprawl and not move for the rest of the night. All he needed was a quick nap and he’d be good to go if his night ran as late as he hoped it would.
Wayne’s stomach jumped with nerves as he watched Eli ride into town. True to Eli’s habits, he parked his motorcycle in front of Dingers and disappeared inside. It would take an emergency to get him to move from there until the game was over, which gave Wayne at least a couple hours to poke around his place.
There was a part of him that shrank back in shame for what he was about to do, violating the trust of som
eone who considered him a friend, but dammit, he’d been wronged first. If it wasn’t for Mr. Hollister cheating his dad out of his most prized possession all those years ago, he’d have the money he needed to take care of his dad properly. Wayne climbed inside his truck and slammed the door. The frustration and worry was damn near eating him alive. Now he had guilt to deal with too.
Eli’s house stood halfway up the mountain, overlooking a series of sloped, wooded hills and broad meadows. His nearest neighbor lived half a mile away, so there was no one to see Wayne pull into the driveway. He stared at the Hermitage, gnawing on his lip and trying to work himself up into taking this step. His stomach had gone from jumping to mad flutters that made him feel faintly sick, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel harder. If he got caught….
He shouldn’t even be thinking of doing this, but that argument had grown weaker over the past month as the bills started to pile up. Wayne drew in a deep breath and squared his jaw. This wasn’t about his friendship with Eli. Wayne hadn’t been able to believe it when he found the series of letters between Mr. Hollister and his dad. His dad had begged the asshole to make it right, and he’d refused over and over again to admit how he cheated on their bet.
That reminder was enough to make Wayne forget his little crisis of conscience, and without any further internal argument, he climbed out of his truck. A beagle appeared in the window, his baying shockingly loud to Wayne’s ears. “Damn fool dog,” Wayne muttered, wiping a nervous hand across his brow.
A hundred excuses for his presence crossed his mind as he checked the unlocked door to the mudroom and let himself in. He wanted to have one ready just in case Eli came home early. Those excuses flew out of his head as a brown, white, and black blur bounded toward him. The beagle skidded on the smooth wood floors, barking loud enough to make Wayne cringe and almost knock over the stand full of walking sticks.
“Jabbers, sit!” he pleaded as the dog jumped on him.
The beagle plopped his haunches on the floor and cocked his head in an inquisitive expression. He barked once in question and then jumped up again, putting his paws on Wayne’s knee, his tail wagging in welcome, before running off to check the window. “Sorry, Jabbers, your owner isn’t here.”
It wasn’t really breaking and entering. Eli was a friend. It was more like a recovery operation. It was a kindness, really; Eli didn’t need to know how much of a jackass his dad really was, and Wayne was damn well determined to get what was his back. A little look-see wouldn’t hurt. Generations of Hollisters had lived at the Hermitage. There was a chance, a slim one, that Eli’s dad might’ve left the baseball cards behind when he’d left home.
Finding it would mean the difference between being able to take care of his dad at home, making sure he had everything he needed to recover, or seeing him stuck in some damn nursing home while the state liquidated his dad’s business to pay for his care. Wayne would never let that happen.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue on into the kitchen. He’d give himself an hour to look, start one room at a time. Those damn baseball cards had to be here somewhere. He refused to think that they could be in Tennessee with Mr. Hollister. That just couldn’t be allowed to happen.
Jabbers followed him from the untouched kitchen to the living room. Crammed bookshelves lined the available spots against the wall, and a stack of books sat on the end table by the armchair. Wayne’s heart sank. All those books. It would take forever to go through them. He took a framed photo of Eli and his grandparents down off the mantle. Of all the pictures there, only one had his parents, and Eli was noticeably absent. Well, perhaps Eli had no loyalty to the old bastard.
Jabbers barked and Wayne jumped, almost dropping the picture in the process. “For chrissake, will you stop that?” He mopped the fresh sweat off his forehead and checked between the photo and the backing to make sure the card wasn’t there. “You’re going to give me a heart attack, Jabbers.”
The beagle showed no signs of remorse as he followed Wayne out of the room. Wayne would just take a quick glance around the entire place first to see if the baseball card collection was out in the open before he started looking in earnest. Jabbers stayed right on his heels, staring at him and making those questioning barks as if asking him what he was doing here.
It was not helping his state of mind, and after an hour of fruitless searching Wayne thought he was about to sweat out of his skin. Those fucking baseball cards were nowhere in sight.
Wayne glanced at his watch and swore. He’d have to poke around the attic another day, when he had more time. Jabbers danced at his heels as Wayne came back downstairs and did another sweep just in case he’d missed something critical the first time. The place was pretty neat, except for Eli’s study, which was littered with books and stacks of paper. How he ever found anything in that mess, Wayne would never understand. The man should invest in some built-in bookshelves and a file cabinet. Only Wayne couldn’t suggest it without admitting being inside his place. Still, his hands itched to impose some order on the chaos.
He spent another thirty minutes shifting through stacks, resisting the urge to neaten them. Eli probably wouldn’t even notice. All he found was old papers, grade ledgers, and multiple copies of the same books. Who needed more than one edition? Jabbers had sprawled out under the desk, peering at him with his head on his paws, looking as if Wayne were the most boring companion he’d ever met.
“Will you stop that, Jabbers?” Wayne complained.
At the sound of his name, Jabbers rushed toward him and knocked over a box teetering on the edge of a chair, sending papers and books scattering across the floor. The beagle promptly forgot about Wayne and pounced on the mess with a happy growl. Wayne gasped, his eyes opening wide in horror and sweat broke out on his brow as Jabbers grabbed one of the books in his jaw like it was a chew toy.
“Jabbers!” Wayne jumped forward, making a swipe for the book. Eli loved his books. “Love” wasn’t even the word. The man was obsessed. Eli would die if he knew. “Gimme that.”
Jabbers danced out of the way, his tail wagging, his brown eyes lit up with glee, as if Wayne had invented the best game ever. Cursing, Wayne lunged for him again and managed to get his hands on the book. The dog dropped his hindquarters, shook his head, and mock growled as they tugged back and forth.
“Drop it. Drop it! Bad Jabbers!”
With a whine, Jabbers released the book, sending Wayne stumbling back. The beagle opted for a strategic retreat and disappeared into the hallway with a reproachful look over his shoulder as Wayne began cursing.
Wayne cringed as he looked at the cover, the binding pierced through and slobbered on, the spine cracked. At least it looked like an old book. If Wayne put everything back to rights, maybe Eli wouldn’t notice or he’d think it happened a long time ago. He was picking up the last of the papers when one of them caught his eye, an appraisal for a range of baseball cards from the fifties and sixties.
No fucking way. Wayne clenched the paper so hard in his hand that it crumpled. No damn way. That lying bastard. He examined the paper again, then stuffed it in his pocket, and with his heart racing began going through every paper he’d just replaced in the box. There were several bills of sale, some even for baseball cards, but nothing for a 1954 Ted Williams.
Wayne sat back on his heels, a sick feeling of betrayal clenching his stomach. Eli had lied to him. Not only had he lied, but now he was seeking to make a profit off his dad’s theft. At first he’d been grateful for the work Eli had sent him, only the more he’d thought about it over the summer, the more he realized that the offer had just been a token gesture, or maybe a salve for Eli’s own conscience. Damn him.
Well, that settled it; he refused to feel guilty any longer for doing what he had to do. He had to look out for his dad. Screw Eli. If he hadn’t sold the card yet then it had to be here somewhere, and Wayne was going to get it back.
Chapter Three
Ash found Dingers more crowd
ed than he had seen it all summer, when just the locals had been the patrons at the bar. As students had trickled in to take up residence during the past week, the population of Amwich had tripled. Every table was occupied, and people were crowded two deep around the bar.
Ash’s gaze roamed, searching for Eli. He found him sitting at the same small table as when Ash had first seen him. He’d ditched the fedora, and his hair was once again back in its braid.
Ash began to wend his way toward him, greeting those he knew and waving to Neil, who was busy working the taps behind the bar. Living in Concord had kept him from discovering Dingers, which had quickly become a favorite hangout, especially on Wednesday night when they served their fish and chips.
Eli glanced up as he approached, his smile lighting up his face. He had one of those genuine smiles, the kind that Ash found impossible to resist. He grinned back, a tug of desire taking hold of him deep inside.
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