by RJ Scott
Along the highway were runners and other people simply walking alone or with their dogs. Some were riding bikes or roller-blading, and he even noticed a couple of folks flying kites.
They took a sharp right after a few miles at a sign reading Topanga Canyon. Pretty soon, they'd left the sea behind and were climbing steadily up out of the canyon. The road doubled back on itself on occasion, sometimes in the full shade from the sides of the mountain or from trees, sometimes exposed to the high sun.
At times the canyon walls flanked either side, at others the walls fell away from them, and more than once, it seemed as if the edge and the guardrails were perilously close. There were skid marks left on the road on many of the bends, some on the wrong side of the road, and Liam wondered at the fear in those people when their vehicles slid to a stop.
"It's kinda quiet up here," he commented for want of something to say after ten minutes of silence. Micah just nodded, and then concentrated on the road again.
They entered a small village. Almost before Liam could blink, they were passing through with quick glimpses of scattered cafes, a fire station, and an art gallery along with one or two other places. Right in the most developed part of the small town, there was a left onto Old Topanga Canyon, and Liam leaned as Micah joined the new road.
"Where we're going is just up ahead." Liam craned his neck to see where Micah pointed, a sign proclaiming Inn of the Single Night, off the main road.
"This restaurant was built way back in the 1930s, but it used to be this whole network of different businesses."
"You've been here a lot?"
"They stock Seneca Blue wines." Micah sounded proud and enthusiastic. "I use my visits to the wine convention to come up here at least twice during the week. You can see the parts of the restaurant that used to be a church, and it is really beautiful." Liam said nothing as they passed a very seventies kitschy sign for the restaurant, surrounded by light bulbs he assumed lit up in the dark. Very Vegas wedding. Surely it wasn't a good sign that this could be any kind of decent place to eat.
There was another slight bend and then abruptly, spread out before him under a canopy of gorgeous oak trees, were twenty or so wrought iron tables. Micah parked the small car on a gravel area and climbed out, stretching tall and grinning at Liam as he joined Micah. Liam inhaled deeply, struck by the sweet smell of sage and the lingering ocean breeze as it filtered into the mountains.
"Beautiful," he said, agreeing with Micah's earlier sentiments.
"Want to take a quick walk before lunch?"
Liam nodded, following closely as Micah led them down a winding path to the tangled shrubbery on the banks of a ribbon of water. He guessed it probably fed into the ocean at the base of the mountains and glanced back upwards to where it must start. The water was startlingly clear and reflected the blue skies above in those parts that were open from the shelter of leaves. Micah once again slipped his hand into Liam's, and it felt right. They walked for a long time, scrambling up hillsides and chatting about nothing in particular—wine, corporate law, food, shared history in children's television, even football, although Micah appeared somewhat at a loss there and clearly was not a fan. Liam didn't mention the night before, and Micah appeared to be happy to ignore the elephant in the room… or elephant in the river so to speak.
His photographer's eye looked for the picture, but even as he took the most intricate detail of dappled sun under wide trees, he was more than aware he hadn't found it yet. When Micah wasn't watching, he would slide the range a bit, capturing laughing or smiling or thoughtful Micah where he could.
When they got back to the restaurant they bypassed the front entrance, instead entering through a back door, which Liam found took them directly into the kitchen.
"Micah!" A bear of man pulled Micah into a hug, and Liam had to push down instant jealousy even as Micah hugged the man back.
"Hey, Brad, things look good." He pulled back, grabbing at Liam's hand. "This is Liam. I wanted to show him the best."
"Your usual then?"
"In the garden?" Brad shooed the two men back out the way they came. "Garden, drink, food," Brad added, and Micah laughed. The sound of it was good to hear, and Liam had another hot flash of lust that suddenly flipped on its head to become need. He needed a kiss, and he didn't even bother looking around to see who might be watching. He simply reached up and pressed his lips gently against Micah's. This whole idea of wanting to touch Micah confused Liam; he shouldn't want to kiss like this, with no desire for reward or to an ultimate end. Kissing just for kissing's sake was a new one. He stepped back, and Micah had his eyes shut only opening them slowly when Liam didn't kiss again.
"Tell me about the wine of yours they have here," Liam half stuttered, hiding his confusion behind words.
Micah didn't push, thank goodness. He simply crossed to a table under the shade of the trees, and then slid into a seat. Liam followed and sat at a right angle even as Micah picked up the wine list and waved it under Liam's nose.
"They have over four hundred different wines here, from all over the world, not only the US."
"Wow." Liam tried to look suitably impressed and clearly failed as Micah laid it back down and grinned.
"Wanna hear why there is such a huge use of the light grape in SoCal?"
Liam wrinkled his nose and leaned forward until his face was inches from Micah's.
"Wanna kiss instead?"
Chapter 10
Liam had the perfect lunch in a stunning setting with excellent food and good company. Micah hadn't mentioned the fact that Liam had basically demanded sex from him at the club. For that Liam felt grateful, and he finally relaxed enough to enjoy the food and to taste the Seneca Blue wine that Micah had suggested. Lulled into a false sense of security, he didn't really see where the conversation turned until it was too late. It all started off innocently enough, Micah asking about the firm he worked for. Liam pulled out as many funny stories as he could about corporate law, sometimes difficult given that it was both corporate and law.
"You have some pretty upscale clients then?" Micah asked innocently enough as Liam finished with the story of the large petroleum company and the lawsuit from the actress.
"Yeah, lots of suits and boring meetings."
"Is that why you decided to hide being gay?"
"I'm not hiding," Liam protested quickly, then exhaled noisily, reaching for his wine glass and swallowing more than a reasonable mouthful with speed. As a delaying tactic, it failed spectacularly when he choked on the wine and then cough-spit half of it back into his napkin.
Micah waited until he stopped coughing. "Sorry," he finally offered, quirking his mouth and smiling ruefully. "My sisters say I need a padlock on my mouth sometimes." Liam stared back at Micah, trying not to focus on the mouth Micah had mentioned.
"I like your mouth without a padlock," he murmured, but didn't repeat himself when Micah asked him what he had said. This bonding stuff was really getting too intense. He never should drink during the day or, indeed after last night, maybe not drinking ever again would be a good thing. He stretched and pushed away from the table. Some perspective on this would be good. He needed a break and some thinking time.
"I need to get back," he said carefully. "I have some papers I need to look at."
Micah looked at him steadily. "Work papers?"
"Important case," Liam said, defending himself against the surprise in Micah's voice.
"Okay, no worries." Micah paid the bill, despite Liam protesting they should go halves, and finally they were back in the small car and away from the beauty of the hills.
They separated and promised to meet for a drink in the bar at eight and only then did Liam manage to hide in his room and check out the photos from the day. There it was. The photo.
He had captured something special when he pressed the button. There in the shaded area, Micah was front and center, his expression serious He had been explaining about the family he came from; his mom and dad, taken from the f
amily far too young, his new niece and his two sisters. Liam leaned closer to his laptop. Micah's eyes held sadness and a look of deep thought, and damn, his gaze looked so intense. The camera had caught the pensive look off center, Micah's hands buried deep in jean pockets, his shoulders hunched. If Liam titled this photo, it would be something incredibly poetic like grace or duty or maybe even love.
Blinking, he pulled himself out of his thoughts, which had wandered way off of the beaten track and out into the land of fancy. Deliberately, he opened the folder with the other two photos that marked the anniversary of Janelle's death. The bug on the leaf and the bird on the fence, perseverance in year one, beauty in year two, and now… somehow Micah and his love for his family would be his third photo. Janelle would have understood.
* * * *
Micah didn't want to waste one minute of time with the mystery that was Liam, and he sat in the bar at seven-thirty with half an hour to spare. Ordering a glass of a popular SoCal Chardonnay, he perched on a bar stool and contemplated the twists and turns this week had taken. Liam Wade appeared to be an untidy mess of contradiction, and Micah didn't fool himself for one minute that it hadn't confused him completely. Liam was so damned restrained in the hotel. The lawyer was clearly weighed down with something that gave him a perpetual frown, but then he was so completely unreserved when he had been dancing; alive and bright and laughing. He wondered what his sisters would think of his interest in this complicated man. Jeez, he should be here getting tail like they wanted him to, not collecting shy boys with problematical feelings.
Micah lost himself in his own thoughts, savoring the wine and taking notes even if he didn't realize it at first. The vintage wasn't the best he had tasted, but it wasn't bad for the year, although very expensive at thirty dollars a glass. Spotting Liam standing uneasily at the end of the bar, he grabbed up the bag he held and hefted it over his shoulder, and with a nod to the barman, he crossed to Liam.
"Hey." Liam looked pointedly at the bag and the denim-clad Micah who held it, grimacing and looking down at his black slacks and button-down. "Am I overdressed?"
"Nope, you look hot." The comment may have been a throwaway, but Micah didn't miss the small smile of pleasure that crossed Liam's face. "We're going to the beach."
Liam didn't argue, nor did he ask questions as he followed Micah away from the hotel, chatting about the meal at lunch time and the wines that they had shared. He helped to spread out the borrowed blanket and began opening the containers that Micah had acquired from the kitchen, small sounds of pleasure at each treasure he uncovered. Was it wrong that Micah found those noises cute-sweet and hot-sexy at the same time? In fact, being hard in his jeans could probably be seen as a good measure of interest. Liam certainly did get the blood rushing south in Micah faster than the blink of an eye.
The encroaching dark of the evening lessened the raw heat of the day. Micah's duties with the wine convention gave them both breathing time. It had been two days since they had spent that day together. But meeting up now was easy, with not one minute of awkward silence. The two men enjoyed each other's company, making the most of this escape from their normal lives. The beach wasn't isolated by any stretch of the imagination—couples and groups all walked the golden sands—but no one took a second glance at them.
They chatted about everything and nothing, and the contents of the containers were soon long gone along with a bottle of white and two cans of beer. The silences in the conversation were comfortable, and in Micah's eyes, the whole time was perfect.
The walk back to hotel was slow as they sauntered along the sand. Micah didn't want to rush back to the luxury of the rooms and the bright lights of the lobby. Liam's guard would come up as soon as reality hit again.
"Wanna get a drink?" Micah winced inwardly as he asked. They hadn't quite reached the hotel and were still surrounded by the darkness of night. Liam was clearly still mellow, laid back, and he chuckled.
"I have a whole bar in my room."
"A whole bar?"
"All the good stuff," Liam teased. "Beer, whisky and some of that wine stuff."
"I will educate you." Micah laughed, but it turned quiet when Liam glanced at him with eyes full of heat. I will educate you? Shit. "About the wine," he added helplessly.
"The wine, yeah."
They dropped the basket and containers at the reception desk, and by silent agreement, they found their way to Liam's room. Liam was right, his room—some kind of presidential suite by the look of it, with door after door opening from the main room—had one well stocked mini bar. Alongside the usual, there was a selection of wines, vintages that had been carefully selected to cover most of the popular grapes.
"Are you going to open a bottle?" Liam asked curiously. He crossed to the wide windows, opening them to the evening air, soft and balmy and carrying the scent of the ocean into the room. Micah crouched in front of the large stocked fridge, and the dry storage for the reds, but nothing caught his eye, and not for the first time, he wished he had bought a bottle of Seneca Blue '08 Merlot.
"I never use the stocked bar in the suite."
"Liam, there is over three thousand dollars worth of wine in your room, and you've never tried any of it?"
Liam shrugged, and Micah shook his head.
"I'm not a great wine drinker. It just sits there."
"But you do actually drink wine?" Micah was curious.
"Of course. With meals when I am out."
"So when you're eating out, what is it you prefer? Red or white?" He turned to Liam standing behind him, a mass of barely harnessed energy, shifting from foot to foot and crossing and uncrossing his arms.
"Hmm, I'll have whatever you're thinking is good."
Micah grinned up at him. "Is that your way of saying you have no idea what you want?" Liam returned the smile and dropped to a crouch next to Micah, peering into the fridge.
"I know that the reds stay at room temperature," he said simply, running a finger over the eight bottles that lay there, "and I know that whites and rose go in the chiller." He tapped a finger on the glass fridge door to indicate the white wines and then nodded, clearly proud of that much knowledge.
"Limited, but that's a start." Micah pulled out a red, a Cabernet Franc from a Washington State vineyard, and then pushed himself to stand. Uncorking the bottle, he sniffed the cork and then he poured a small amount into the crystal glasses that sat on the top of the cabinet. He offered one to Liam, who took it carefully, mimicking how Micah held it by the stem and then waiting.
"Take a sip and tell me what you can taste."
Liam wrinkled his nose. "Do I need to do that spitting out thing?" He looked really concerned, and Micah contemplated teasing him for a few seconds and then decided this was far too serious a moment to dilute.
"No, let the wine run over your tongue before you swallow. That will do fine." He watched as Liam cautiously sipped the red in his glass and then did as he instructed, half closing his eyes in absolute concentration. Finally he finished and then looked at Micah, consternation in his eyes.
"Hmm" he said and then stopped, so adorably out of his depth that Micah wanted to scoop him up and carry him to bed there and then. Taking pity on him, he sipped his own wine, letting the rich taste of it swirl in his mouth.
"Cabernet Franc," he began, closing his eyes to imagine the elements he tasted. "We have that at Seneca Blue, but the cabernets from Washington State have a fruit forward style with blueberry and raspberry. Did you taste that?"
"I want to say yes." Liam's voice held a note of doubt, and Micah opened his eyes. Liam's gaze was trained on him.
"Years of practice makes a wine snob," Micah offered gently, "and as much as I think it is the be all and end all of everything, if you enjoy wine, then that is good enough for me."
"The flavor had a hint…" Liam started and then immediately stopped.
"Go on…"
"I don't know, I mean, this is going to sound stupid."
"Nothing you say will
sound stupid. Wine tasting and enjoyment is subjective, I promise you."
"Coffee. Like ground coffee, and olives. Almost bitter."
"Excellent. Typical of the Washington state grape. We'll make a wine connoisseur of you yet." Liam leaned forward enough to touch his lips to Micah, pulling back with another look of confusion and hesitation on his face. Micah had that unsettling feeling, even as he chased for the kiss that something remained seriously wrong with the picture, but this time he let the brain in his dick do the talking. Placing his glass to the side and relieving Liam of his, he pulled Liam in for another kiss, settling his hands onto Liam's hips and pushing his fingers up and under the cotton shirt. Liam's hands were on his ass, pulling Micah closer until they were hard against each other. Liam beginning a hip roll that meant within seconds they were near rutting against each other. Jeez. If Liam didn't slow down, Micah would do exactly what he did the first time he'd kissed a boy and come in his pants before he breathed. Chuckling, he pushed Liam back.
"Slow down," he half whispered, but Liam wasn't listening, pushing him back against the cabinet and grinding again, capturing Micah's lips in a bruising, punishing kiss, more teeth than finesse. Micah tasted blood, and okay, he could be on board with frenzied, hurried sex, with biting and dominance and a battle of wills, but after the night in the club, he didn't want that with Liam. "No," he pushed Liam away, wincing as the other man stumbled back and his face darkened with anger.
"What the hell? I thought you wanted me."
"I do, Liam, but slow down. We have all night."
"I want you to fuck me." Liam sounded disbelieving. "You don't need all this kissing romance shit with me. Seriously, I'm a sure thing." He pressed himself up against Micah, an obscene grinding motion underlining the words he had spat out.