“Hey, now, ACC is a charitable institution.”
Logan’s first response was a snicker as he easily retorted, “So? So is Crane’s Auto Clinic.”
Nick’s voice got suddenly earnest when he asked, “But not for long, right?”
Happy to allay that concern, Logan answered quickly and honestly, “Nope, not for long.”
“Good.” Nick gestured towards the museum. “You wanta go in?”
“Nah, I wanta see this famous fountain of yours. It’s over that way, ain’t it?”
“It’s not my fountain,” Nick objected. He seemed to be struggling for words as he and Logan walked along the Monongahela River pathway towards the renowned feature. “Back when I first saw it, it seemed…. I just liked the way… the idea….” Nick let his deeper thoughts trail off as he simply finished, “It’s pretty impressive.”
“You started coming here in college, right?” Logan confirmed, more to get Nick talking again than for information, since he’d heard the story several times.
“Those first few months, I came here a lot, yeah. And then whenever I was feeling down.” Suddenly Nick stopped short and gave Logan a knowing glance. “Oh, like I am now. That’s the point of all of this, huh?”
“Yeah.” When Nick said nothing, Logan was worried that he’d made some sort of blunder. “Is that okay?” He breathed a sigh of relief when Nick smiled and clasped him on the arm.
“The park’s always good, but bein’ here with you is—well, it’s great. Thanks.”
“Ain’t no big deal. I been wantin’ to see this place, too, you know?” The next statement took some effort to force out of his mouth, not because it wasn’t true, but because it was. “It’s the symbol of my… my new hometown, ain’t it?”
Logan’s exertion was rewarded when Nick’s smile turned into a blinding grin. “You bet. Looks a lot better when it ain’t so torn up, though. I wonder if they’ll still have the fireworks on the Fourth of July?”
“They have ’em here?”
“Yeah, a huge production every year.” Nick’s voice grew even more animated as he suggested, “We should bring the girls. They’ll go wild.”
The “we” in that statement loomed large for Logan, and he couldn’t let it go unremarked. “We? You’d wanta come, too?”
It was Nick’s turn to look uncertain. “Umm… yeah, if that’s okay. I know we haven’t done anything with ’em together, but I thought that might be a good way to… ease into things. What do you think?”
Logan thought that whenever the subject edged anywhere near telling his girls about him and Nick, his gut still dropped like a stone. However, he could see the sense in Krista and Meghan getting to know his boyfriend before that crucial moment arrived. After all, who could really resist Nick once they knew him? “Not a bad idea. I’ll have to see if I can get ’em then. Maybe Linda will be so busy plannin’ her wedding that she’ll be glad to have a weekend free.”
“Planning her wedding!” Nick exclaimed. “She just got engaged last week.”
“Linda don’t mess around. Krista says the wedding’s gonna be in November, right after the divorce is final.”
“Didn’t she just start dating this guy in February?”
Logan shrugged. “Like I said, that’s Linda’s way. ’Sides, she’s been workin’ with Bill for over a year.”
“You met him yet?”
“Nope. The girls say he’s a nice guy. That’s good enough for me.”
“So they’re okay with all of this?”
“Too soon to tell. That’s why I don’t wanta rush—”
“I know. I don’t wanta do that either. They’ve been through enough. I’d just like to get to know the most important people in your life.”
“Besides you, you mean?”
“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”
“Keep that shit up and you ain’t gonna get one of these sandwiches.”
“Ahh, so that’s what’s in that bag. What kind?”
“Black Angus steak and cheese.”
“Holy shit! From Primanti Brother’s?” When Logan nodded, Nick exclaimed, “You went to the Strip District on a Friday night? No wonder you were late.”
“Nah, I went to the one at Market Square, but it was still packed.”
“I’ll bet. Gotta say, though, a Primanti Brothers sandwich is worth the wait.” Nick grinned and nodded at the bag. “What else you got in there?
“Some cold pop, brownies, and a blanket.”
“Why, Logan Crane, sounds like you got the makings of a picnic there.”
“Always knew you were a smart man.” Nothing more was said, as they had reached the fountain at last. Though the structure was just as impressive as he’d heard, Logan was more taken with the way his man looked as they examined it. Nick was not only smiling but seemed more relaxed than he’d been since his mom had died ten days earlier. They walked around the complete circumference of the fountain and then wandered over to the river walk.
Nick came to a halt and leaned on the railing, seeming transfixed by the sight of the rivers. Finally he turned to Logan and waved his hand towards the Allegheny. “I used to come here and think about how that is the same river that’s in Kittanning and Freeport where I grew up. When I felt scared and lost in this big city, I’d feel better thinking—” Abruptly he stopped, and when Logan looked at him inquiringly, Nick said, rather sheepishly, “Never mind, it’s stupid.”
“I don’t believe that. Come on, tell me.”
“I don’t know. It’s like it sort of followed me here… and was kind of….” Nick’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Watching over me.”
Logan could see that Nick was anxiously awaiting his reaction. In truth he was slightly choked up thinking about how alone Nick had been back then and was glad he’d found comfort where he could. With no trace of humor, he said, “I like that. I like that idea a whole lot.” Logan considered telling Nick that he understood the feeling, that he’d felt just as alone when he’d first started making those trips to Pittsburgh so many months ago. Instead he nodded at the Monongahela and said, “So that one must’ve followed me here from Elco and was watching over me.”
The warm sparkle in Nick’s eyes let Logan know he’d been heard—completely—even though Nick’s only answer was, “Sure did.”
Unconcerned with prying eyes, Logan moved close enough that he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Nick. As the two men stood at the railing together, facing out, Logan pointed at the westward-flowing Ohio River. “And how ’bout the Ohio? What’s that one been doin’?”
“It ain’t doin’ anything, Logan. That’s us.”
This time Logan couldn’t help but cock his head and give his man a quizzical stare. “The Ohio River is us?”
“Yep.”
With a shrug and a shake of his head, Logan acquiesced. “If you say so.” If Nick wanted them to be the goddamned Ohio River, it was fine with him. He gestured towards a grassy area not too far away. “Come on, I think you need some food.”
As they neared the spot Logan had indicated, Nick bumped him with his shoulder and demanded, “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
Logan put the bag down and tossed the blanket to Nick, answering, “You must be. You took up with me, didn’t you?”
When they were comfortably settled and had started unwrapping their sandwiches, Nick said, “Smartest thing I ever did.” Logan was slightly puzzled until Nick clarified, “Taking up with you—smartest thing I ever did.”
“Son of a bitch, you did it again!”
“What?”
“Stole my line.”
Nick’s smile glowed white against the darkening sky. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
Logan shot him a wolfish grin as he whispered huskily, “Now you’re readin’ my mind again.”
The talk turned to inconsequential matters: how big a job the Jeep would be tomorrow, Nick’s plans for his summer intern, and the prospects of winning their upcoming softba
ll game. Throughout their companionable chatter, there hovered in the back of Logan’s mind the conviction that his plans for this night hadn’t been foolish at all, and that any trouble he’d gone to had been rewarded many times over.
Maybe they were the goddamned Ohio River after all.
When not writing about compelling men falling in lust and love, FELICIA WATSON spends her time chasing after her brilliant, darling, and beloved dogs, is chased by her brilliant, darling, and beloved husband, bakes pastries that would put Martha Stewart to shame, and still finds time for her day job that isn’t actually a day job—since she’s one of the many unappreciated off-shift workers in the healthcare industry.
AS ALWAYS, thanks go to a few special people who continue to support all my literary endeavors.
Jeannie, my friend and punctuation guru. Thank you for your continued support and dedication. You make this so much easier.
Ann, Jackie, Lyn, and Sharon. Critique partners who are never afraid to tell me when I screw up and who pat me on the head when I need it.
Marita, vid maker extraordinaire. Your talent is inspiring. Thanks for sharing it with me.
Reese Dante. Your attention to detail is legendary and well deserved. Thank you for my beautiful book cover.
Lastly, to the wonderful people at Dreamspinner Press who are always there when you need them. Thank you!
“THIS IS like a slice of heaven, isn’t it?” Lil exclaimed, savoring the piece of strawberry cheesecake he’d just forked into his mouth. When he got no reply, he made a 180-degree turn to find Jody or Clark but realized that somehow they’d gotten separated again. Not surprising considering the amount of people who’d been crowding the Eli’s Cheesecake booth.
It had been like that most of the day, finding and losing each other in the crush of tourists and locals braving the heat and the lines at the annual Taste of Chicago. When Jody had suggested they attend, he’d warned Lil of the inconveniences, but also extolled the virtues of taking part in this annual Chicago tradition. Once a year, at the height of summer, thousands of Chicagoans and visitors from neighboring states made the trek to Grant Park for the largest food festival in the Midwest. Hundreds of vendors set up kiosks offering up a gastronomical overload of local specialties as well as the more exotic foods introduced by the diverse population of citizens who comprised the City of Chicago. It was a perfect opportunity to have a small or full-sized portion, depending on the appetite and the budget, as one traversed the endless aisles of tempting displays. Another great part of the festival, and equally as popular, was the music. Well-known singers and musicians appeared at the Petrillo Music Shell and other stages throughout the park for the entire ten days of the festival.
It was stinking hot, humid, loud, and so crowded it was easy to be carried along by the bodies that surged up and down the corridors like a human tidal wave. Lil had been adventurous, stuffing a wide variety of food into his tall, lanky body, which still retained a boyish quality in spite of his age. He’d had corn on the cob, a slice of pizza, Italian beef smothered in drippy juice, Korean bulgogi, Filipino eggrolls, and had even attempted a barbecued turkey leg, but ended up throwing most of it away in favor of the samosa that grabbed his attention as he passed an East Indian booth. He’d lingered at that location for a while, savoring the vegetable biryani and the chicken curry, enjoying the explosion of flavors as his taste buds were assaulted by the fiery spices.
Jody and Clark had kept up most of the time, but as they weaved in and out of the crowds, they’d lost each other, only to hook up again a few minutes later. Predictably, the couple showed up once more a few tables down.
“Aren’t you full yet?” Clark asked, watching Lil as he nibbled at another sample of chocolate cheesecake.
“I may puke any minute now,” he said, grimacing. “You’d think they’d have a tent for people to upchuck, or have an enema, so we could continue to stuff more food down our throats in a gluttonous loss of self-control.”
Jody reached over and tried to take the small plate away, but Lil protested, pulling his hand back. “Sweetie, stop! Who knows when I’ll get another chance like this?”
“You know you’re welcome to visit us anytime you want.”
“Jodes, the last time I was here, it was like the frozen tundra. I will never step foot in this town during the winter months, unless Clark’s in the Super Bowl, and you guys host.”
“Well, there’s always that possibility.”
“Look at this place,” Lil said, scanning the crowd. Most everyone was in some sort of undress in an effort to beat the sun’s unrelenting rays. Shorts, tanks, bikini tops, Daisy Dukes, and cutoffs were the chosen attire. “It’s hard to believe how cold it gets in the winter when you’re sweltering in this kind of heat.”
“I know,” Jody said, nodding, “another Midwestern delight. If you can’t stand the weather, stick around, ’cause it’ll change in an hour or so.”
“It’s not that unpredictable, is it, Clark?” Lil asked.
“It’s pretty fucked-up,” Clark pronounced. “The weather is the worst part about living here; I love everything else.”
“Well, I would hope so, seeing as how you signed on for another two years.”
“They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Clark said with a grin. “Money aside, I like playing for the Bears, and Jo-Jo loves his job.”
“Yes, you’re both wallowing in contentment.”
Seeing Jody and his partner, Clark, the hunkiest athlete in the world, so content made Lil believe that love could conquer all. They’d traveled a hellish road to get to this happy place, but it had been worth every traumatic moment; after all they’d endured, the couple continued to be gay icons and poster boys for the power of love.
Lil and Jody had been roommates at Stanford and despite the vast differences in their personalities had become good friends. Jody was a shy and repressed newbie with practically zero experience being a gay man when Lil had first set eyes on him. They were like the odd couple: Jody was serious and driven, keeping a grueling schedule to attain his medical degree; Lil, although equally brilliant in his chosen field of architecture, knew how to have fun while striving for his personal goals. He was flamboyant and unabashedly gay, whereas Jody, although out, wasn’t in your face. They fed off their differences, bringing out the best in each other, and had remained good friends throughout college. Now, almost fifteen years later, they were as close as brothers.
Lil rejoiced in his friend’s happiness, but missed having him around. It hadn’t been quite the same since the couple had left the Bay Area two years ago to move to the Windy City after Clark landed the contract with the Chicago Bears. Lil visited as often as possible, but he was at the height of his career as well, having landed a lucrative deal with a premier builder from the East Bay. A customized Lampert blueprint was in big demand following his awards for excellence in the use of solar energy to heat and cool the mansions that dotted the hills of Danville, California. Lil’s business was thriving, and he didn’t have a lot of time to visit. On the personal front, he was still flying solo, having never found that special someone, and not for lack of trying. Love continued to elude the attractive brunet who’d been highlighting his hair for years, leaving him as blond as a Coppertone ad. It improved his overall appearance. Cornflower blue eyes and a golden tan completed the picture of the thriving Californian who still sparkled with a joie de vivre that hadn’t dimmed one iota, in spite of his age, a reality Lil had bemoaned as he blew out the thirty-seven candles on his birthday cake a few months ago.
“Oh, look, ice cream! Let’s have a cone or something,” Lil cajoled, grabbing Jody’s hand and pulling him along.
“Lil, I can’t possibly eat another thing,” Jody protested.
“Then wait here while I peruse, okay?”
“Sure, babe. Knock yourself out.”
Lil wiggled his way through the crowd, trying to get closer to the booth that was four people deep. Finally, his chest hit the wooden counter. H
e looked up at the menu and decided on a waffle cone filled with vanilla ice cream, topped with chocolate sauce.
“Can I help you?”
Lil took his eyes off the boards and was about to place his order when he came face to face with the voice and forgot what he was about to say. Standing in front of him was the most gorgeous man in the world, bar none. Holy shit!
“Er… do you serve vanilla?”
“Sure,” the guy said, smiling. The brunet had spiky hair and charcoal eyes, fringed by sooty curling lashes that were so thick they seemed false. His scruffy beard framed a luscious red mouth that practically screamed kiss me. He was wearing a wife-beater stretched tightly across the hard muscles of his impressive chest, but what really caught Lil’s attention was the tattoo that spilled down the man’s right arm, like a sleeve, in brilliant primary colors.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
“Your order?”
“You, anyway I can have it.” The words were out of Lil’s mouth before he could censor them.
The brunet laughed, showing off beautiful, white teeth improving an already perfect face. Lil’s pulse jumped, and his cock surged, definitely awakened by this gorgeous apparition.
“Do you want a cone?”
“Yes, please.” Lil was surprised he could even talk. His mouth felt like the Sahara at noon.
The hunk turned to get the cone and bent down to scoop out the ice cream, giving Lil a premier view of his backside. He was wearing white shorts—the logical choice to show off his tanned and shapely legs, not to mention the rounded ass that made Lil want to lean over the counter and take a bite out of each cheek. His legs were covered with a light layer of dark hair, very appealing to a man who had a thing for bears, or cubs, in this case.
“Here you go.” He passed the cone over to Lil. “Anything else I can get you?”
“I can always use a tour guide,” Lil said, grinning.
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