by Smith,T. M.
“Hey,” Gabe whispered, his voice laced with uncertainty.
“Fuck Gabe, don’t do that.”
Gabe’s brow creased. “Don’t do what, Micah?”
“Is what happened last night going to change things between us?” Micah asked. He tried to pull his hand away, but Gabe reached up and covered Micah’s hand with his own.
“Of course it is,” Gabe responded.
“Good change? Or bad change?”
Gabe stared at him for a few intense seconds, running the tip of his finger over Micah’s bottom lip. “I’m not sure yet.” Micah sighed and tried to roll away but Gabe grabbed him before he could move. “Stop.”
Micah snorted. “I care about you Micah, I really do. I’m just not ready for anything more than friendship right now.” Gabe sat up, wrapping the sheet around his waist and brushing his long hair out of his face. “I am also not telling you that I don’t want to pursue something with you, when it feels right. Don’t get me wrong, last night was fucking amazing and I needed to be held by someone so badly. I didn’t mean to come on so strong…” Micah effectively silenced Gabe by placing two fingers over his mouth.
“So, we agree that there is something here, something between us. And we are also agreeing to talk about this again, soon?” Micah let his hand drop, resting on Gabe’s knee.
Gabe smiled and nodded before adding, “Just one more thing though.” He leaned down and kissed Micah. There wasn’t any of the fire and clashing of teeth and tongues from the previous night. It was a chaste kiss, meant to convey more simple emotions than mere lust and need.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Gabe, can I come in?” Mattie’s soft voice traveled through the closed door.
“Uh… I’m not dressed,” he called out.
Mattie laughed. “When has that ever mattered? Listen, I just wanted to know if you knew where Micah was. His room is empty, and his bed hasn’t been slept in.”
Gabe grinned down at Micah, trying not to laugh.
Micah shrugged. “I’m here, Mattie.”
Mattie didn’t respond right away, but they could still see the shadow of his feet under the door. “Ohhhhh, ‘kay. I’ll see you downstairs then.” Mattie finally said. They could hear him all but run back down the hall.
They both expected Victor and Andrew to rib them when they set foot in the kitchen, but neither said anything. They both sat at the table drinking coffee, eating cereal and reading the paper. Gabe met Mattie’s eyes over his coffee cup and Mattie mouthed the words, I didn’t say anything.
Gabe nodded and mouthed back, Thank you. He knew Mattie would have questions, but he would worry about that later. For the moment he was enjoying the first morning in a very long time where he woke up refreshed after a decent night’s sleep, wrapped around a man he could totally see having a future with.
Chapter 9 | Flashbacks
“Oh my God Tristan, this place is amazing.” Gabe’s words rang out like a gunshot in the empty house. He ran up the first flight of stairs, stopping and leaning over the railing, shouting down at Micah from his perch on the second floor. “Hobble your one-legged ass up the stairs and come see!”
Tristan blanched at the statement, but Micah just shook his head and laughed. “Keep it up, you lonely bastard, and I’ll shove my fake leg up your ass,” he shouted up the stairs as he climbed them.
“Ummmm… okaaaaaay.” Tristan followed Micah up to the second floor and they watched as Gabe fluttered from room to room then flew up the next set of stairs to the third floor. Tristan watched Micah carefully as he trudged up the steps. Anyone that didn’t know about Micah’s prosthetic would never notice it; that much was certain. He climbed the stairs with ease, a slight limp when he stepped with the blade leg the only indication that there was something amiss.
The two of them stopped at the top of the second floor and waited for Gabe to finish running in circles like a toddler on Christmas morning. “So, what’s up with the derogatory remarks?” Tristan asked.
“Huh?” Micah responded.
“One-legged ass? Lonely bastard? What is that all about?”
“Oh.” Micah laughed. “Well, Gabe was in a sour mood the other day and I called him a loveless mongrel. I was totally kidding, but he was headed down that path where he gets quiet and depressed.” Micah was circling the wooden ball that sat on the balustrade where they stood. Tristan considered reaching out and covering Micah’s hand with his own, perhaps to soothe him. He blinked, jerking his eyes away from Micah’s hand to meet his gaze when Micah cleared his throat.
“Well, I wanted to stop him from going to that dark place so I called him a loveless mongrel, thinking he would get mad, but at least he wouldn’t be sad anymore right then. You know?” Micah raised his chin then, grinning. “He didn’t though, he sat there and scrunched his cute little nose and then his smile grew big and he started laughing. I mean loud, boisterous tears rolling down his cheeks, laughing.”
Micah lowered his gaze again, still smiling and shaking his head. Tristan could see the attraction in that smile that he saw that day by the pool, the first day he met both Gabe and Micah. He had warned Micah to tread carefully that day, knowing that Gabe was nowhere near ready to move past Gio yet. But now? Tristan realized he was veering off the path again when Micah chuckled, pulling Tristan’s focus back to him.
“Finally, once he stopped laughing, he called me a lame-ass duck. And I totally didn’t get the comeback. So he grabbed his phone and looked up the definition of the word “lame” and one of the definitions was: Unable to walk properly because of a problem with one’s feet or legs.
“Long story short, we’ve sort of been coming up with odd little things to call each other since that night. I’m pretty sure Gabe is on to me now, that he knows what I’m trying to do when I call him a lonely bastard, a loveless mongrel, or something equally inappropriate.” Micah looked up at Tristan again, leaning closer to him, so close he could feel the heat from Micah’s body.
“It may be juvenile, but if it makes him stop and think about why I’m doing it, then maybe he can stop himself from going to that dark place on his own. You know, associate his change in mood with us picking on each other, and then he can turn those dark thoughts off.” Tristan stood still, trying very hard not to show the reaction his body was having at Micah’s closeness, his breath brushing Tristan’s ear as he spoke softly. Standing one step higher than Tristan brought them to the same height, and it would be so easy to wrap Micah in his arms and kiss him for all he was worth right then.
Micah pulled back when he heard a throat clear behind him. Gabe stood at the top of the last flight of stairs, arms crossed over his chest, one foot tapping on the cherry wood floorboards. “Are you two going to get your asses up here, or just stay there and fondle the big, wooden ball all day?” Gabe smirked before turning and disappearing down the hall.
They took their time moving from room to room and walking all three floors. Gabe absolutely loved it, especially the modern accents and the color schemes that blended from room to room. As they headed back downstairs, Gabe ran his hand along the railing, stopping to circle each balustrade on his way down.
“Are you sure you want to do this Gabe? Move out of the house in Mamaroneck?” Micah understood that Gabe wanted to continue moving forward as his broken heart healed a little more with each passing day. He just wasn’t sure if living alone was a good idea just yet. Not to mention he would miss spending time with Gabe every day if he weren’t there. This house wasn’t huge by any stretch of the imagination; it was only about ten to twelve feet wide and roughly thirty feet from the front door to the back, but the three levels made it seem spacious.
“Well, we can be roommates for starters,” Gabe called out over his shoulder. He walked through the kitchen, running his hands over the granite countertops. The kitchen had all the latest appliances in stainless steel and across from the stove, fridge and countertops were two floor to ceiling rows of shelves that had been built into the wal
l so they didn’t stick out. “It’s odd that the larger room, the living room, is at the back of the house.” Gabe spoke quietly, his eyes still soaking in certain areas of the house.
“Well, not really, if you think about it,” Micah said, jerking his head toward the back of the house. “They couldn’t very well put a fireplace in the front of the house. This brownstone isn’t on the end either, so any of the interior walls would be out of the question.” Micah pointed to the fireplace that sat in between two windows that were probably six foot high and two feet wide. “This is why the living room is on the opposite side of the house.”
Gabe nodded, “Yeah that does make sense. Okay, I’m starved, let me just take one more look upstairs.” Gabe turned and dashed back up to the second floor where the bedrooms were. The original layout of the brownstone held three bedrooms, but the smallest had been remodeled into a large walk-in closet that was now part of the master bedroom. The third floor was much smaller than the other two floors, half of the space taken up by the large utility room where the hot water heater, air, heat and back up breaker box were all kept.
The third floor could be completely closed off to the rest of the house if needed and had its own separate entrance. The large, open space had been remodeled with the rest of the house and was meant to be an office for Harold Prescott so he could move his psychiatry practice and work from home.
Gabe smiled and jogged back down the three flights of stairs. He skidded to a stop on the first floor, his cheeks flushed from running. “Tristan, this is perfect, where do I sign?”
Micah laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s not put the cart before the horse,” Tristan said with a chuckle. “Come on you two, we’ve been here forever and I’m starving.” He ushered Gabe and Micah out the front door, locking up before he jogged down the steps to his truck.
“Uhhhh, I thought we were going to eat, Tris?” Gabe asked, leaning forward and looking up at the sign that read BB’s Bar and Grill.
Tristan slid the truck into park, killed the engine and pulled out the keys. “We are.” Opening the door and stepping out, Tristan pulled the back door open and held his hand out for Micah, not reaching for him but allowing Micah to make the decision to either accept the help, or climb out on his own. Tristan could see the gears in Micah’s head turning, the man wanting to do it without assistance, then finally sighing and grabbing the offered hand.
Tristan closed the doors and waited for Gabe to shut his before hitting the key fob to lock the doors. “One of my clients is the owner of this place. They have great burgers or fish tacos, if you don’t eat meat.” Tristan realized what he said as soon as he said it, looking back over his shoulder and grinning when he heard Micah snort.
“If you are a vegetarian, better?” Tris grabbed the big wooden door and jerked it open, stepping aside and holding the door for Gabe then Micah to walk in. Micah laughed at him, shaking his head as he walked past.
The place was pretty crowded but they managed a booth toward the back. As soon as they sat, a guy came over and handed each of them a menu. “Welcome to BB’s, can I get you guys something to drink while you peruse the menu?”
They ordered water, a bucket of beer and chips and salsa to munch on while they figured out what they wanted to eat. Micah looked around and it finally dawned on him — there were only a couple of women in the bar, compared to a whole hell of a lot of men, some making out in dark corners or cozying up to each other next to the juke box. “Is this a gay bar?” he asked.
“Yep.” Tristan took a swig of his beer then smiled at something behind Micah. A big man with long brown hair and a beard that was almost as long as his hair pulled Tristan into a hug as Tristan stood. Micah stared up at the guy and tried to place where he knew that face from.
“Oh… Mister Motorcycle Man.” Gabe wiggled his fingers in a wave, grinning up at the big guy. Micah thought hard — Beau? That’s what the man’s name was.
“Beau, I’d like you to meet a couple of my friends. This is Micah, and…” before Tristan could introduce Gabe, Beau leaned over the table and grabbed Gabe’s outstretched hand in his.
“Gorgeous Gabe, in my bar, as I live and breathe.” Beau’s voice was deep and smooth. Gabe’s face fell at the mention of his porn star alias and all Micah wanted to do was climb over the table and give the poor guy a hug.
“Damn, sorry bout dat; I didn’t mean to upset you. Just Gabe then. Let’s start over, shall we.” Beau bent at the waist a little, bowing and smiling at Gabe. “Gabe, I’m Beauregard Boudreaux and dis is my place.” He slowly swung his arm out.
Beau kept his eyes trained on Gabe, they were soft but attentive, and finally Gabe responded with a small smile. “Good, so what brings you three to BB’s tonight? You gonna have some suppah? The house special tonight is an authentic Crawfish Étouffée. It is so good, make you wanna slap yo momma.” When he said the word three, Micah thought it sounded more like tree.
Tristan and Gabe ordered the Étouffée, but when Beau turned to Micah, he just sat there with an open mouthed stare disfiguring his face. Beau smiled and waved a hand in front of his face. Micah blinked. “Damn, sorry, it’s just… your accent is sexy as hell.” That was it! It had taken Micah a few minutes to place it. Beau sounded just like the crazy, psycho killer on the first season of Trueblood, René Lenier.
Tristan and Beau both laughed out loud but poor Gabe had just taken a swig of beer, which he was now choking on. Beau leaned over the table and smacked Gabe on his back, his little body jerked and his eyes about bugged out of his head. “I’m… I’m good.” Gabe’s voice was horse from the coughing.
“You’re not the first person to say dat, Micah. Now, what you gonna have for suppah?” Beau stood and patiently waited. Micah stared down at the menu for a minute, then met Beau’s eyes again, for some reason he had been struck mute all of a sudden. Their host laughed again, “A’right, three orders of Crawfish Étouffée coming right up.” Again with the tree instead of three.
“I thought you didn’t like seafood, Micah?” Gabe asked.
Micah shook his head, “I don’t.” He frowned when Tristan and Gabe cackled.
“Let me go find Beau and get you a burger.” Tristan stood and walked back toward the two double doors the big man had disappeared behind just moments before.
“Craw-FISH –Étouffée.” Gabe stretched the word fish out to stress his point, laughing at the frown on Micah’s face before taking another pull off his bottle of beer. “You better watch out, I think Willie already laid claim to that monster last week when he was eye fucking him at Tristan’s office.”
Micah snorted. “I’m not trying to flirt, Gabe.”
Gabe leaned across the table and whispered, “Then what the hell was all that your accent is sexy stuff?”
“Tell me you disagree.” When Gabe shrugged, Micah sat back and arched one eyebrow. “That’s what I thought.” They stared at each other, not moving or speaking for a few seconds and Micah wondered if maybe Gabe was jealous. They hadn’t talked about anything between them since the morning after, but they did agree there was something there. Micah didn’t know what to do beyond that besides wait for Gabe to come to him, in his own time.
Tristan slid back into the booth next to Gabe. “All right, one burger with everything on the side and fries coming up for you Micah. I didn’t know what you liked, so I asked them to put it all on the side.”
They nursed their beers and made small talk until the food arrived. Micah’s mouth was salivating; the burger smelled divine. And though he didn’t like seafood, he could admit that the scents wafting across the table from Tristan and Gabe’s plates were amazing. Tristan ordered another bucket of beer when the waiter came and cleared their empty plates, but it was Beau that brought the beers back. Tristan asked for the check only to be shrugged off by their host.
“Pshaw! I invited you to come to my place Tristan; dis is my treat and don’t try to argue.” Beau crossed his big arms over his chest, frowning at Tristan.
&n
bsp; “Okay, okay,” Tris held his hands in air, smiling.
“You boys gonna stick around and play some pool?” Beau asked, setting the bucket of beers down then pulling one out and twisting the cap off, tossing it over his shoulder. Micah watched the cap fly across the two tables between them and the bar, bouncing off a bottle of Jack Daniels. The bartender shouted a few foul words at Beau who shrugged and flipped him off before handing the open bottle to Tristan.
Micah jerked a bottle out of the bucket, waving Beau off when he reached for it. “I can open a damn beer,” he grumbled, frowning when he could not, in fact, open the damn beer. Tristan looked on, smiling, while Gabe laughed. Beau stood there, arms crossed over his massive chest again, watching Micah try, unsuccessfully, to open the damn beer. Finally realizing he was defeated, Micah held the bottle up for Beau, refusing to look at him.