Fool of Main Beach

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Fool of Main Beach Page 10

by Tara Lain


  “Have you always lived with Mrs. Allison?”

  “Mostly. I rented from a man for a while, but I didn’t like him and left. I found Mrs. Allison, and she says she found me.”

  Maybe that explained how a boy could live on his own for so long and still be untouched by the ugliness the world usually showed kids who got tossed out.

  More likely, it was just Tom.

  Merle turned right off Broadway and climbed the hill toward Mrs. Allison’s house. “Is someone taking care of the boys? It’s been a long day.”

  “Yeah. Mrs. A. said she’d let them out. She likes them, really, but she doesn’t want me to make a habit of it.”

  He could practically hear her voice, and he chuckled. He pulled over in front of the house and put the car in Park. “So I’ll text you to tell you what time I’ll pick you up on Friday, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d really like to convince you that you’re plenty smart. Can I do that? Will you believe me?”

  “I’ll try.” He stared at his hands in his lap. “I’m looking forward to Friday.”

  “Good.” So maybe Tom really likes Aaron. “What are you looking forward to the most?”

  Tom smiled softly and opened the car door. “Dancing—with you.”

  He slid out and walked in that graceful way up the lawn to his house.

  What exactly does he mean? Does he like to dance or does he like me? If it’s me, what the hell do I do with that information?

  Merle drove south with Alicia’s album blaring and minimum thinking. When he pushed open the door at the beach house, he met a wide-eyed Ru padding through the entry in his pajama bottoms and nothing else.

  Merle sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I guess it might be good to let you know when I’m going to invade your house. Shit, I’m so sorry.”

  Ru laughed and put his hand on Merle’s arm while the other pressed against his lightly muscled bare chest. “No, darling, it’s fine. It’s just that Gray’s out of town, and being without him always makes me jumpier. I’m happy you’re here. Come on in.” He wrapped an arm around Merle’s shoulders and led him into the living room. “Want a beer or something else?”

  “Sure. Beer would be good.” He followed Ru into the kitchen, getting a full view of the enormous tattoo of wings on his back and the words Angel del Diablos, an artifact of Ru’s short days in a Los Angeles gang. He covered the tat most of the time, so letting Merle see it was an act of trust.

  Ru opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles. “How did your day go?”

  “Great.” Merle leaned over the granite island. “I’m so excited about this film. I can hardly believe my luck.”

  Ru popped the caps and handed one to Merle. “Luck had little to do with it. He sought you out because he recognizes talent. That’s how he’s made a name for himself.” Ru walked into the great room and flopped on the couch. Merle settled in opposite him.

  “I want to believe that. He’s hitting on me subtly but consistently.”

  “And you haven’t decided to take him up on it?” He sipped.

  “I wish I knew what I’d do if the film role wasn’t involved.” He sipped the beer. “As it is, it just makes me feel like a failure, you know? Like a pretty face, but not as pretty as my costar.” He snorted a laugh.

  Ru leaned forward. “Come on, that’s your parents talking. Where’s my charming, self-assured, arrogant rake?” He grinned.

  Merle shrugged. “Sorry. Being a stupid kid.”

  “So did the day really go well, or is there something you’re not saying?”

  “It went well. Really well. Then I went to dinner with René and Aaron, one of my costars, and Tom, and I started feeling—”

  “Wait. You don’t mean our Tom?”

  “Uh, yeah, I do.”

  Ru leaned forward and rested an elbow on his knee. “Okay, that’s the part you didn’t tell me.”

  “Sorry. René came to my house a couple of days ago and met Tom. To call him mesmerized would be inadequate. He virtually drooled. He invited Tom to come see the shooting and even sent a car for him. Tom ended up coming to dinner—more or less as my costar Aaron’s date. They’re going dancing Friday night. René and I are going too.”

  Ru gazed at him with an unreadable expression. Finally he straightened up from his Thinker pose. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

  Merle blew out a long breath and pressed himself back into the soft chair cushion. “Damned if I know. I go back and forth between treating Tom like a kid and being awed by his wisdom and understanding.”

  “You like him.” Ru’s gaze was steady.

  “Sure. Who the hell wouldn’t like Tom?”

  “You like him more than most people.”

  “He saved my life.”

  “Merle.” Ru cocked his head.

  “Yes, I like him. He’s—honest, for fuck’s sake. In my business that’s rarer than fucking diamonds.”

  “Gray and I are honest. Billy and Shaz are honest.”

  Merle glanced up. “He’s sweet.”

  “So’s Billy.”

  “You know what I mean. He’s special sweet.”

  “Are you interested in him sexually?”

  “No!” He stared at his hands. “I mean, I like to stare at him as much as anybody. He’s beautiful. But beyond that, I’d feel like I’m taking advantage of him.”

  “He’s a grown man.”

  “I know.” He swigged some beer.

  “Obviously you have friends who have designs on him.”

  “Damn. That wasn’t my plan. I mean, I just wanted him to have some fun. He gives up everything for his family, and I just wanted him to enjoy himself a little.”

  “I get it. But you’ve got to decide what your intentions are. Otherwise Tom’s going to follow you like a lemming and wind up off a cliff.”

  “Shit, Ru!”

  “Sorry, babe, but Tom’s a special guy. You can’t mess with him and come out feeling good about yourself.”

  “I know that.”

  “He obviously likes you.”

  “He thinks of me as a friend. His friend.”

  “Yeah, well, get how special a friend is to Tom. He’s got tons of people who like him and that he probably likes back, but I never hear him describe any of them as his friend.”

  Merle wiped a hand across his face. “I’m feeling very responsible here.”

  “You need to. You are.”

  The cool air blew across his lips as he exhaled. “I get it, but Aaron asked him out and he accepted. Admittedly, Tom wanted me and René to come too, but he made the date. Like you said, he’s a grown-up. I can’t start intervening in his decisions.”

  “No. But you’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Oh man, I hope you’re right.

  “So, do you have tomorrow off?”

  “No. I’ve got shooting on the series.”

  “Uh, why are you here, dummy? Not that I’m in any way unhappy to have you here, but wouldn’t it have been easier to stay in LA?”

  He grinned. “I wanted to come to the beach and get lectured.”

  Ru laughed.

  Of course, he’d really wanted to drive Tom home so that Aaron couldn’t.

  Chapter Twelve

  MERLE SURVEYED his ass in the tight black slacks. Okay. More than okay. He grabbed the blue sweater from the bed and pulled it over his head. Excellent. Brings out my eyes.

  A knock on the door made him look away from his self-admiration. “Hey. Come on in.”

  Ru stuck his head in the door, then sauntered into the bedroom. “Wow. Don’t you look sexy? Who you trying to impress?”

  That was the million-dollar question. “I guess it never hurts to impress the boss.”

  Ru sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll bet you’re tired. It’s been a long week.”

  Merle sat next to him. “Beat, actually. We had a ton of script changes on the last two days of shooting.”


  “You have the weekend off?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You going to come back and hang with us?”

  He grinned. “If you’ll have me.”

  “Not meaning to be touchy, but why are you here now? Isn’t your date in LA and didn’t you have to drive down here after you wrapped just to turn around and drive back?”

  He stood and slipped his feet into loafers sockless. “Yeah. But I promised to drive Tom.”

  Ru leaned back on his elbows. “Hmm. Don’t I recall that your pretty costar invited Tom dancing?”

  Merle slid on a thin leather jacket and focused great attention on loading his phone and wallet into the pockets. “Yes. Aaron.”

  “Right. Aaron. Shouldn’t he be the one doing all the extra driving?”

  Merle just stared at his hands.

  “You didn’t want Tom with this guy.” Not a question.

  “I guess.”

  Ru sighed. “If you don’t want Tom driving with this man, why is it okay for them to go dancing together at a gay nightclub in LA? Come on, Merle. You can lie to me if you want, but don’t lie to yourself.”

  “I plan to bring Tom back home.”

  “And what if Tom doesn’t want to come?”

  “I guess I’ll deal with that when it happens.”

  Ru shook his head.

  Merle’s phone buzzed in the jacket pocket. He grimaced. Saved by the bell. He glanced at the screen. Interesting. “Hi, Mom.”

  Ru gave him a look asking if he should go. Merle shook his head.

  “Merle, your father and I are coming to LA for a scientific conference. We’d like to plan to get together.”

  “Oh. Okay. When?”

  “Two weeks. I’ll text you the date and the hotel information.”

  “All right. Uh, I’m starting shooting around then on a new film, but I’m sure we can work out a time to see each other.”

  “You mean your series?”

  “No. I’ve been offered the lead in a René Montrose film, and we start shooting as soon as I wrap the series for the season.”

  There was a brief moment of silence. “Montrose? I’ve seen his films. They’re quite good.”

  Huh. He took a breath. “Yes. I’m happy to be working with him. Perhaps I’ll have the chance to introduce you to him. He’s very nice.”

  “When did you audition for him?”

  He felt a smile melting across his face. “Oh, I didn’t. He came and asked me to star in the picture. Actually, he asked my friend, Gray Anson, about me, and he introduced us.”

  “That’s extremely interesting. Well, I’ll look forward to hearing more about it and to meeting Mr. Montrose.”

  “Great, Mom. Text me the data.”

  “I will. Goodbye, dear.”

  He clicked off, looked at Ru, and started to laugh.

  “What?”

  “You know how my mother isn’t the tiniest bit jazzed about anything I ever do?”

  “Yes.”

  His cheeks practically cracked with the smile. “She’s seen René’s films and says—” He imitated her voice. “—they’re quite good.”

  Ru snuffed.

  “I think she was actually impressed with the fact that René offered me the role. Son of a flaming bitch. That’s a first.”

  “It’s about fucking time.”

  “I won’t get too excited. She’ll find some way to make it an underachievement.” He laughed, but it didn’t sound happy. He shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Look, I’m sorry I react so strangely to Tom. I can’t exactly explain it myself. I feel protective. Maybe because he saved my life. Maybe because I got him into this mess. Maybe both. Anyway, I feel like I need to protect him, but not from himself. Shit, he’s been on his own longer than I have. If he wants to stay in LA with Aaron, that’s his choice. I just don’t want him railroaded into it. If he needs a ride, he knows he’s got one.”

  Ru gave him a look that reeked of skepticism. Yeah. That’s because Ru’s a smart man. But Ru nodded. “Just don’t kid yourself, okay?”

  “I won’t.” Man, what a fucking lie.

  A half hour later, Merle pulled up in front of Mrs. Allison’s, the door opened, and out walked Tom, unaccompanied by canine companions and illuminated by the fading light. Holy shit. How could such a big man have such slim hips? And how could a pair of black jeans show off those hips like sex on two legs? No pink puffer jacket tonight. He wore a sports jacket. It looked maybe a little tight in the shoulders but still damned fine. The mane of curly dark hair had been semitamed and fell around his face more like a curtain than a halo. More reminders of Tom’s angelic nature he didn’t need while lusting over his gorgeous ass.

  Tom opened the car door and stuck in his smiling face. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  Tom slid in and carefully fastened his seat belt, then looked at Merle. “Gee. You look really nice. Almost as good as in that pretty suit you wore on the beach.”

  Merle chuckled. “You look really good too, Tom.”

  “Mrs. A. said I needed my jacket to go dancing. Was she right?”

  “Yes, probably.”

  “I never wore a jacket to dance before, but she said I should take her word for it.”

  “Well, good. You can always take it off later.” Bite your tongue, Justice.

  “Yes.”

  He drove to the Laguna Canyon Road and headed for the freeway.

  “Can we listen to more of that good music?”

  “Sure.” He touched his screen to show Tom the choices. He picked the same Alicia Keys album they’d listened to before, then settled back in the seat and looked out the window.

  “How’s Lily?”

  “Oh, she’s fine, I think. I told her you were my friend. I don’t think she believed me. Maybe I can take a picture of you tonight and send it to her, okay?”

  “Sure. We’ll get someone to take a picture of us together. Then she has to believe it.”

  Tom chuckled. “Lily’s good at not believing things.”

  “Did she go to her dance yet?”

  “Tonight. I think it’s funny that we’re both going dancing on the same night. She got new shoes, so I hope they don’t hurt her feet.”

  “You got her new shoes.” Don’t sound judgmental!

  “No, she got them. I just sent her money.”

  “Maybe you should keep some of your money, Tom.”

  “Why?”

  How could he want to beat on the steering wheel and laugh at the same time? “You could get a bigger place so you could have big dogs.”

  “That would be nice. Maybe after Lily gets older and gets her own job.”

  They both fell into silence, and Alicia sang the rest of the way through the intense Friday-night traffic. When they finally pulled into the parking lot of the club called the Orchid, Merle wanted to run over every car in Southern California.

  Tom leaned back in the passenger seat. “I thought we might not make it, Merle. That was really bad. Does everybody want to come to Los Angeles on Friday?”

  “It seems that way, doesn’t it?” René had called once while they were driving to say he and Aaron were already at the club. “Let’s go see if we can find René and Aaron.”

  “Okay.”

  They climbed out of the car and walked to the entrance of the rather low-key nightclub. As best Merle remembered, the low-key was confined to the exterior.

  A doorman, aka bouncer, held the door for them, and they walked into a closed entry hall. A handsome man in a dark suit stood behind a reception desk. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  “Good evening. We’re meeting René Montrose.”

  “Yes. You’re Mr. Justice.”

  Merle nodded.

  “Excellent. This way.” He opened double doors into—wonderland. The kind where one pill makes you taller and the other makes you small.

  Tom stopped. “Wow.”

  “Yes, it’s something, isn’t it?”

  The huge club was a
throwback to earlier days when dancers occupied cages. Gorgeous guys wearing almost nothing at all gyrated as golden captives in every corner of the club. The enormous dance floor sparkled from lights reflected off a disco ball and writhed with bodies gyrating to the music.

  The maître d’ looked back, and Merle took Tom’s arm to encourage him to follow. The feel of that hard muscle and warm body under the coat sleeve made his hand sizzle. The maître d’ led them up some stairs to an area that seemed to be reserved for certain guests. Unlike the small cocktail tables on the floor below, these tables were large, and many seemed to be set for dinner. At a booth in the corner, René and Aaron waved at them.

  The maître d’ nodded and walked off. Merle shook hands with Aaron and got a double kiss from René. “I’m so sorry we’re late. The traffic was indescribably horrible.”

  Tom shook his head. “I wasn’t sure we could get here.”

  Aaron stood and gave Tom a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you made it. I’ll try to make the trip worth it.” He guided Tom onto the curved booth seat and then sat beside him. “Would you like beer or champagne? René and I are drinking bubbly.”

  “I never had champagne.”

  Merle looked at him as he sat beside René. “Even at Billy’s party?”

  “No, I didn’t want to take any since I know it’s so expensive and I saw a lot of people really like it. I didn’t want to waste it if it didn’t taste good.”

  “I think we need to change that right now.” Aaron held his glass out to Tom. “Give it a taste.”

  Tom looked at the glass with his wide-eyed expression, tipped it, and giggled as the fizz hit his tongue. He snorted, then tried again. This time some champagne actually made it into his throat. He wrinkled his nose—call that adorable—then tried some more. “That’s good.”

  Aaron beamed at him. “Isn’t it? That’s why people like it so much. Want some of your own?”

  “Are you sure it’s okay?”

  “Of course.” He waved for the waiter.

  René said, “Would you like some too, Merle?”

  “Sure. I’d love it. Thanks.”

  A waiter arrived with a bunch of small plates holding meatballs, shrimp with some kind of sauce, fresh veggies and hummus, and chicken wings.

 

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