by Dev Bentham
Mark paused, processing the information that Claire’s partner was another woman. He gestured to the open kitchen door.
Claire cleared her throat. “Look. I shouldn’t have said anything. Kate hates it when I out her to military people. She was raised conservatively. Her folks are fundamentalist Christians, and she enlisted during ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’ Even though it’s been repealed, she’s still not comfortable having people know. Me—” she shrugged, “—I’m no good with secrets. One of our little differences.” She played with the hem of her top.
Mark leaned against the counter. “I’m great with secrets so don’t worry about it. But perhaps I should warn you that my sister-in-law thinks we should date.”
Claire laughed explosively. “You and I?”
Mark nodded. “She’s concerned about my love life.”
Claire cocked her head and studied him. “Should she be?”
Lisa burst into the kitchen. “Claire, I’m so sorry I was so slow getting ready. Have you been here long?”
Claire stepped forward to hug Lisa. “Only a few minutes. Mark’s been entertaining me.”
Lisa’s grin widened. “I’m glad. Is that your daughter in the living room? Grace, is it?”
Claire gave an apologetic shrug. “I know you didn’t invite her, but it was either bring her or cancel. And I thought,” she said, gesturing toward Lisa’s belly, “maybe you’re okay with kids?”
Lisa giggled. “Of course.”
Mark gestured to the refrigerator. “What can I get you? We have wine, beer, juice, tea, water and, of course, your sparkling juice. What sounds good?”
“I’d love a glass of wine if it isn’t going to bother Lisa.”
“Please do. I never was much of a drinker anyway.” Lisa picked up the sparkling grape juice. “This looks wonderful, though.”
Mark produced three wineglasses and poured wine for himself and Claire and juice for Lisa. He held his up and said, “Here’s to safe returns.”
Lisa smiled at him. “That’s very sweet, Mark. Safe returns.” She turned to Claire. “My husband is in Afghanistan.”
Claire lifted her glass. “Yes, I know. Mark told me.” She smiled at him. “Here’s to safe returns.”
Grace sat on Claire’s lap for the first few minutes of dinner. She sampled the moussaka, ate a bite of lettuce and munched her way through a variety of food items her mother produced from an overstuffed handbag. Belle sat patiently beneath her, inhaling any dropped bits and crumbs before they hit the floor. Very shortly they were both released to the living room with a cartoon and a bowl of dry Cheerios to share.
“I’m having a small gathering for Grace’s birthday tomorrow night,” Claire said as the adults settled in with tea. “Just a few friends, a couple of old clients and some kids. Would the two of you like to come?”
“That would be wonderful,” Lisa gushed, giving Mark a significant look.
Mark contemplated Claire over his teacup, uncertain how much of her private life she wanted to share. “Thank you for the invitation. Are you sure we wouldn’t be a burden?”
Claire looked at him for a long minute. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Thank you for asking.”
Lisa glanced from one to the other, her brows knit quizzically.
“So how did you decide you wanted to be a midwife?” Mark asked Claire and the conversation veered onto safer paths.
* * *
“What was that all about?” Lisa asked, closing the door behind Claire and Grace.
“What was what all about?” Mark rinsed dishes and began filling the dishwasher.
“That whole ‘would we be a burden’ moment? Don’t you like her?” Lisa gathered napkins and tossed them down the laundry chute.
“Claire’s great. I didn’t want to pressure her into taking us into her personal life, that’s all.”
Lisa stood looking at him with her hands on her hips. “So, are you going to ask her out or what?”
Mark turned and smiled. “Would it make you happy if I took Claire to coffee?”
Lisa grinned. “Yes. It would make me very happy.”
He nodded. “Okay, then, I will.”
* * *
Several cars lined the street, so Mark parked almost a block from the restored Victorian. Music and laughter cascaded out as he and Lisa came up the walk. As they neared the stairs a gaggle of three-year-olds tumbled onto the porch.
Mark’s anxiety rose. How did he get himself talked into a party of all things? “That’ll be you soon,” he said to Lisa, gesturing toward the cluster of moms laughing with each other as they followed the children.
She smiled a little dreamily. “I know.”
Claire broke off from the pack of moms and welcomed Lisa and Mark. She accepted the gift Lisa proffered. “I’m so glad you could come. Let me introduce you around.” She took Lisa’s arm and steered her toward the other moms. “There are some women I’d like you to meet.” She smiled at Mark. “This is girl talk, Mark. Why don’t you go on through to the kitchen? Seth’s in there getting the cake ready and he could use some help.”
Mark’s mouth suddenly went dry. He could feel himself starting to blush.
Claire broke into a wide grin and led Lisa away.
He looked out at the street. Wasn’t there somewhere else he needed to be? His heart pounded. He looked over at the cluster of mothers to see a couple of them staring his way. Christ. He ran away from their gaze, up the stairs and into the house.
The foyer was dark after the bright spring afternoon sun. Mark stood for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. The house smelled of freshly baked cake and ancient wood. Music played softly, an artsy-sounding female vocalist. To his right the foyer opened onto a comfortable living room decorated with balloons and colored streamers. Directly ahead the hallway led to an open door. The room beyond was sunlit. Weren’t kitchens in old houses always at the back? Mark tried to make himself move—forward, backward, sideways, any direction would do. Instead he stood staring dumbly toward the lighted doorway, heart pounding, slightly nauseated. On top of panicked and sweaty, he felt ridiculous.
What would a sane man do in this situation? What would Pete do? But this would never happen to Pete. Whatever bits of their shared DNA coded for confidence worked in Pete and malfunctioned in Mark. He willed himself to think like his brother. It was only a hallway. Seth was only another guy. It would all be okay.
“Hey, Mark.” Seth stood outlined in the doorway. Mark couldn’t see his expression and somehow that helped.
“Hi. Claire sent me in here to help with the cake.” It almost sounded natural. Please, Pete, teach me how to do this.
Seth stepped back, waving him into the kitchen. “Well, come on in. You can be in charge of the ice cream.”
Mark inhaled, exhaled. He began dividing one very large number by another. Long division, no short cuts, no remainders, out to infinity if necessary. His feet felt weighted as he shuffled forward and into the bright yellow kitchen.
Seth held up a spatula full of chocolate frosting and gestured toward the cake. “Claire was running behind, so I offered to finish up while she gets the party going.” He nodded out the kitchen window toward the backyard, where children tumbled in wild bunches and their mothers watched. “Once again, you save me from a world of women.”
Mark blinked at the slight flirtatiousness in his tone. “Uh, yeah. Looks like it’s just us.” For a man with advanced degrees he wasn’t exactly sounding brilliant.
Seth gestured toward the far end of the counter. “Get the candles, will you? I’m almost done here. Do you have any kids out there? I mean, other than the one still on the inside.”
Mark lunged for the candles. “Uh, you want these?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Seth smoothed frosting into lovely Betty Crocker peaks on top of the cake. How could the act of spreading frosting be so…sexy?
Mark considered. Seth’s question meant Claire hadn’t told him about Pete. Well, why should she? It wasn’t like he e
xpected to be the center of every conversation. If he were any kind of man he’d tell Seth himself. But to do that he’d have to manage more than a sentence at a time. And without Lisa as a barrier between them Mark might need to do something about this ache of desire. “No.” It came out gruffer than he intended.
Seth looked up startled. “No what?”
Mark stared at his shoes. “Um, no children.”
Seth smiled. “At least for the moment, eh?”
Mark stared at his feet.
“Look, you don’t need to worry, it’s not contagious or anything.” Seth’s voice was cold and Mark looked up to find his face transformed into granite.
“What?” He could almost hear his heart pounding.
Seth looked disgusted. “Look, I’m only trying to be friendly but I keep getting really weird signals from you. I don’t know what your problem is, but if it’s the whole gay thing, I don’t want to know about it.”
Mark blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what Seth was saying. Had he guessed? The hardness of Seth’s gaze, the confrontational bravery of his stance finally got through to Mark. Seth thought Mark was freaked out by Seth’s gayness in some uptight homophobic way. And he was freaked out, but not the way Seth thought.
Mark groaned. His throat closed and his mind felt like hardening concrete. There was no way he could articulate his thoughts, such as they were.
But he couldn’t let Seth think Mark objected to his beautiful body or his courageous, sexy, inviting spirit.
Before he could stop himself, Mark bolted around the counter. Seth jumped away warily but Mark reached out and pulled Seth toward him. He held him close until Seth stopped trying to pull away. Seth’s body was warm and strong. Mark breathed in the texture of his tensed muscles and the long length of him. Slowly Mark pulled back enough to see Seth’s face. The look in his eyes held confusion but behind that was…
Mark wasn’t sure what he intended as his lips found Seth’s, but the jolt of excitement that spiked through him banished all thought. He put everything he could into the kiss. His need and confusion, the way Seth took his breath away, everything he wanted to say he poured onto the other man’s mouth. Seth’s breath caught and Mark opened his mouth, pressing his tongue forward. Seth opened to him. Mark’s heart and cock jumped as his tongue found Seth’s. He curled his hand into the softness of his hair, pulling him closer.
Seth responded, his hands slowly coming to rest on his back. Mark pressed his erection into Seth, groaning slightly as he hardened against him. He tasted of chocolate and promise. Mark wanted to stay there forever.
Seth took a deep breath and pushed Mark away. He closed his eyes, hands resting on Mark’s shoulders. Mark held his breath, heart pounding, not entirely from fear.
After what seemed like an eternity Seth opened his eyes. “That was, um, unexpected.”
Mark watched his lips. Most of his encounters with men hadn’t involved kissing. Why was that when it could feel so good?
“Mark.” Seth’s voice forced Mark to look up and into those blue, blue eyes. He wanted to dive into those eyes but the pool was clearly closed. “Look, you’re incredibly attractive. But I don’t do this.”
Do what? Kiss? Kiss men? Of course Seth kissed men. Wasn’t that what they’d been talking about?
Seth blushed and looked away. His hands lifted from Mark’s shoulders, leaving a vacuum behind. He stepped back, cleared his throat and continued, “I don’t do bisexuals, okay? It’s too painful. And you’re an expectant father, for God’s sake.” He gestured out the window toward the crowd of women. “Now, let’s get this cake out.”
Mark stared at him, willing his mouth to move, his mind to work. He sputtered, “But, but…”
Seth handed him a giant carton of ice cream and a scoop. “I’m really flattered but please, let’s just serve the kids, okay?”
Mark trailed after him. He mouthed his way through the happy-birthday song and scooped ice cream onto the cake slices when they appeared before him, but none of it felt as real as the lost moment in the kitchen. Depression settled an arm around his shoulders like the old friend it was. Self-loathing swamped him and he felt trapped. Within his head he could be so articulate. Funny, even. But put him in front of an attractive man and all he could do was mumble and grope. Nice. Why had he ever left his apartment?
“Are you okay?” Claire asked, settling a hand on his forearm. “You’re dripping all over the grass.”
Mark looked down to see ice cream melting from the scoop in his hand. He shook his head and dumped it back in the carton.
Seth appeared beside Claire. He kissed her cheek. “Hey, I’ve got to go. I have rehearsal in half an hour. It’s been—” he glanced at Mark, “—an interesting afternoon.” And with a wave he was gone.
Claire looked after him for a minute before turning her gaze toward Mark. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”
And suddenly Mark found that he did. More than anything he wanted to talk—the one thing he couldn’t do with Seth. “Yeah. I do. But not now.” He eyed Lisa and the crowd of chattering women. He looked at Claire intently. “Can I see you later? Go for coffee or something?”
Claire’s gaze clouded. “Mark, you know I’m lesbian, and involved.”
Mark nodded. “That’s not what I mean. It’s just—” his voice caught, “—I could use a friend. Someone I’m not related to, okay? Someone who might understand.”
Claire’s face softened. “Sure.”
Mark looked around at the party. “How about if I take Lisa home when this is over and come back to help you clean up? I’ll bring a pizza so you don’t have to cook.”
Claire grinned. “How can I refuse that? Grace is picky about pizza, though. I’ll circle the options on a takeout menu from her favorite place.”
Relief washed through him. Maybe Claire could help him find a way out of the mess he was making of his life.
Chapter Five
Lisa, of course, loved the idea. She babbled all the way home about how wonderful Claire was, how fun her friends were and that some were even military wives. She talked of how happy she was that Mark was going back, and did he know that a couple of those women were involved with each other?
Mark called in the pizzas, nodded and made encouraging noises all the way home. Belle greeted them at the door, wagging her whole body. If only everyone was as simple to please as his dog. He fed her, found a health-food frozen dinner in the freezer for Lisa, changed his ice-cream-spattered jeans for a fresh pair and within the hour was on his way back to Claire’s.
His shyness reemerged as he mounted the front steps. It was crippling, really, this inability to step outside of his neuroses. He needn’t have worried, though. Claire put him to work immediately, stacking chairs, picking up Grace’s discarded birthday toys and filling garbage bags with detritus from the party. Then she called him into the kitchen, handed him a dishrag and pointed toward the counter, where cake crumbs and spilled ice cream mingled. He was staring at a glob of chocolate icing when the doorbell rang.
“That’ll be the pizza,” Claire said and Mark sprinted to the door to pay. By the time he returned the counter gleamed. He watched, a little forlorn, as Claire rinsed the last of the icing from the dishrag. What was he, fifteen?
She smiled as he set down the pizza boxes. “That looks like enough to keep us all for a week.”
Mark shrugged. “You told me what Grace wanted but I wasn’t sure what you like so…”
Claire laughed. “It’s the trap of parenthood. You tell yourself you like whatever the kid will eat because it’s easier, but oh,” she said, opening the first box which held what the pizzeria had called Greek pizza: spinach, onions and feta drizzled with olive oil, “this looks wonderful.”
“Yeah, it sounded good.” Mark gestured toward the stack of pizzas. “So did the Mexican. That is, if you like chorizo. And the red pepper and goat cheese looked interesting too.”
Claire smiled sadly. “That’s Kate’s favo
rite.”
“Oh, sorry,” Mark sputtered, “I didn’t mean to…”
Claire shook her head. “No, it’s good. I’ll eat it in her honor.” She scanned the pile of boxes. “I assume one of those is plain cheese, right?”
Mark grinned and pulled the smallest box from the stack. “Yep.”
Claire opened a cupboard and brought out three dishes. “Can you set up while I get Grace? We should eat while it’s hot.” She gestured to the kitchen table. “If you don’t mind, we can sit in here. We have a formal dining room but it’s too formal.” She wrinkled her nose.
Mark nodded and spread the pizza boxes out along the counter so they could fill their own plates. He found the napkin drawer on the second guess and was setting the table when Claire and Grace appeared. The little girl looked at him sleepily. He nodded sympathetically. It had been a long day for him too.
After dinner Claire excused herself to put Grace to bed while Mark cleaned up. He filled the kettle, rummaged in her cupboard for cups, a teapot and tea. Anything to keep from getting lost in the memory of Seth in the kitchen, the very visceral memory of his lips, the slight stubble along his jaw, the smell of cake, the taste of chocolate and Seth.
Claire’s voice startled him. “Sorry that took so long. I thought she’d go down more quickly but you know how it is when you’re overtired.”
“Um, yeah.” Mark gestured to the teapot. “I hope you don’t mind. I kind of made myself at home. You had caffeine-free tea, cinnamon something.”
Claire laughed and flopped into a kitchen chair. “Do I mind? Are you kidding? Feel free to come over anytime you want to feed us, clean up and make me tea.”
Mark shrugged and sat across from her. He poured and handed her a cup.
Claire blew on her tea, eyeing him over the rim. “So, you going to tell me what this is all about?”
Mark stared into his cup, uncertain where to start. He wasn’t used to confiding in anyone other than Belle. Opening his mouth felt like falling off a cliff.
“It has something to do with Seth, right? Did you guys argue?” Claire prompted.