A Different Kind of Perfect (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Ceri Grenelle

  “You wouldn’t have been out on the roof if I hadn’t lost my shit,” Bleu interrupted.

  “I could have stayed inside—”

  “So you would have been beaten to death. Good plan.”

  “Shut up. Both of you.” This would be comical if it wasn’t so morbid. Colton placed his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths. It was nearly too much to handle all at once. How was it possible that these two people were so closely connected to the night that pretty much changed the course of not only his dad’s life, but his entire family’s? And how the fuck could he hear how they were both involved, at least distantly, in his father’s paralysis and still think they were both sexy as fuck? He needed to leave. He shouldn’t be there, he should have been home making sure his father was comfortable. Calling his little sister to make sure she was safe. He should have been with his family. He should leave.

  He didn’t leave.

  “What happened to you after?” he finally asked, looking up as they both exhaled, now that he’d decided not to throw a shit fit.

  “Hospital for over a month. There were some internal issues that needed long-term care. Afterward my mother’s sister, who I had no clue even existed, took me in.”

  “What happened to your mother?” Bleu asked softly.

  “Dad says she left. I kind of think he either ran her off or killed her.” Bleu’s eyes widened in shock, glancing at Colton quickly before turning back to Alexis. “Don’t remember much about her, I was young when she disappeared.”

  “Your aunt, was she a good choice of relative to live with?” Colton asked, needing to know he at least had some sort of caring family.

  “Yeah, she was amazing.” At that he grinned, life coming back into eyes at the mention of his extended family. “She taught me how to cook, taught me more than I ever learned in culinary school. I love her like a mother and I love my cousins as if they were my siblings. I had a good life after he ran off. A life I owe to your father. I was never able to thank him or apologize. They wouldn’t give me any contact information and by the time I could walk again he had sort of vanished.” He sighed, again, and closed his eyes. “Colton—”

  “Stop,” Colton said again, this time slightly exasperated with the both of them. “Please.” He noticed both their hands lying on the tabletop and decided to go out on a limb and grasp them. When there were no objections, he continued. “What happened was shitty. I can’t tell you how much I wish things could have been different. Different for my dad, for my family, and for you guys. Now listen to me when I say this. It wasn’t your fault. Either of you. This guilt I can tell you’re carrying is stupid and pointless. My dad is a grumpy old ex-cop that got injured in the line of duty, and he may be grumpy, but he isn’t miserable. He’s only slightly grumpier than men his age are supposed to be.” Colton stopped trying to repress the tears pressing against the back of his eyes as his thoughts strayed to the dark time right after his father was shot. The waiting and wondering if he would live, if he would be OK. Then all the surgeries his dad had when a chunk of the bullet had become lodged in his back, causing intense pain every moment he wasn’t sedated. His father had been in a bed for nearly a year after that night. It wasn’t the bullet that had almost killed him. It was the long and arduous recovery. But his dad was strong, he was a fighter, and he made it through.

  “He’s happy now. You just can’t bombard him like you did today, OK?” His gaze turned to Bleu and damn but if his cock didn’t stir at the sight of a blush creeping up into her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry. I just sort of lost it when I saw him. I had pretty much given up hope of a return phone call or something. I leave yearly messages for him at the precinct.”

  “Bombard him?” Alexis asked. “How did you two say you met?”

  “I was running a group NA meeting at the YMCA this morning and Colton and his dad were coming out of a physical therapy session when I literally ran over Officer Evan’s wheelchair.” She smiled sheepishly, picking at her fries.

  Alexis snorted. “You run into people a lot?” he asked Colton, who was ashamed to say he actually blushed. It was ridiculous, this guy probably wasn’t even interested in men. He seemed like a straight guy, dressed like a straight guy. Although, Colton couldn’t say that he was particularly flamboyant himself. And really, that whole flamboyancy stereotype was a bit overplayed.

  “Nope, she did the running into today.”

  “I can’t get over how weird this is, that we all met on the same day, at least officially,” she exclaimed, a look of bewilderment on her face. “Nearly ten years to the day after what happened.”

  Colton looked back and forth between the two and didn’t know what to say to that. It was weird. The level of coincidence was off the chart, to an almost uncomfortable and suspicious level. What was worse, or amazing, he couldn’t figure that part out yet, was the level of attraction he felt for both of them. Now all he had to do was hope at least one of them was attracted to him, because there was no way he was turning his back on these feelings. But picking just one felt wrong.

  “We all living fairly good lives now?” Colton asked, trying to ease some of the tension in his shoulders if not in his cock.

  “I am a licensed tattoo artist who owns the shop over on Canal and Main Street. I also lead a specialized group of NA meetings for a late teens-slash-early twenties age group.”

  “And clean for nine and a half years,” Colton added, proud of her, though he barely knew her.

  “Yes!” Alexis raised his water glass and they followed with a loud clink.

  “Alexis, we can see that you’re doing well.” Bleu gestured around the diner, putting her glass back on the table.

  “It took me a while but yes, with some help from my aunt, I was able to open this place.”

  Colt smiled, following his gaze around the cozy dining room. There was such an aura of warmth permeating the satisfied sighs of customers that you couldn’t help but be absorbed in the pleasant atmosphere. “Annabelle’s is a good name for a diner.”

  “It’s my aunt’s name.”

  “Awww, you’re an auntie’s boy,” Bleu teased while pinching one of Alexis’s cheeks.

  “Quit it.” He tried to bat her hands away.

  “Kids, don’t make me call Annabelle and have her put you in the corner,” Colton joked, in a high feminine voice.

  “Don’t make fun, she’ll fucking do it. Doesn’t matter whether we’re grown and complete strangers. She’ll box your ears like she’s getting paid to do it.”

  Colton stretched his legs out under the table as Alexis called to one of his servers to bring out another burger and fries since he ate most of Bleu’s. He made sure one leg was stretched toward Bleu and the other toward Alexis. When his legs hit their targets, the two tensed slightly. Bleu relaxed rather quickly and shifted a bit. The shifts could have been interpreted as a rub but he wasn’t about to jump to conclusions. Alexis didn’t move that leg an inch. But stationary with no rubbing was better than moving the leg out of contact for good. Interesting. But he seemed straight. Maybe he was open to a new experience?

  Colton kept the conversation going for a while until Bleu took up with some crazy stories about tattooing and strange locations on bodies people wanted tattoos on. Alexis eventually talked about his forays into cooking and how culinary school taught him not to be a complete overbearing jackass. Colton discussed his love of architecture and the small firm he was moving up in the ranks of. He didn’t go into too much detail though, knowing that is wasn’t exactly as exciting as cooking or tattooing.

  No matter their traumatic pasts and how greatly they affected his own life, Colton decided he liked these two people. He was impressed by their will to move on and continuously work to improve their circumstances, all the while holding true to their inner selves and integrity. As the night progressed and the conversation held steady, he came to realize it was more than just an unforeseen sexual desire keeping him tethered to these new friends. Perhaps it was
something more lasting than the tenuous strings of fate that had brought them together, ten years after the night their connection had been forged in fire.

  Chapter 4

  Colton trolled the aisles of the grocery store, keeping his eyes peeled for more than just his favorite type of cereal. His boots scuffed the floor as he shuffled along, pulling random things off the shelf and into his cart, no rhyme or reason to his grocery list tonight. It was 2:00 a.m. on a Saturday and he knew Alexis would be there. He was there every week without fail, seeming to have no other time to do shopping for himself. Now Colton understood why. The life of a chef was never boring and hardly ever provided for free time.

  The night he spent with Bleu and Alexis had been something out of a dream. Besides the whole revelation of their connection, the evening had been fun. He got to sit, eat, and talk with two people who held him captive with their verbal banter and intelligence. He wanted to see them again—badly. Unfortunately, there had conveniently been a crisis involving sketches and construction plans at work that took up all of his time, leaving him exhausted by the end of the day. Also, Colton didn’t actually live in his hometown anymore, so he couldn’t stop by the diner or Bleu’s tattoo shop for a quick hello. It took him nearly an hour to get into this part of the city, but he did it to see his folks and to shop at the miraculous grocery store he’d come to love. He refused to shop anywhere else. The massive store was a thing of beauty.

  He was usually only peripherally aware of where and what the mysterious “grocery store man” was doing, but tonight, Colton was avidly looking for him. He had almost given up until he walked into the market section and found the tall, muscular man perusing the bread and scanning the surrounding aisles, not really paying attention to the goods around him.

  Colton pushed his cart up to the counter and admired the man as he walked. Alexis had a sturdy masculinity about him that Colton had always found attractive on a man. At least six feet three inches with dark, curly hair that just brushed his ears and fell over his forehead in an effortless cool. Tonight he wore jeans that defined his ass so well Colton wanted to take his fingers and see how far he could push the seam between his ass cheeks. Fuck, he wanted to see that body naked. Trailing his eyes up over a trim torso with an open chef’s jacket draping over his muscles, it was only when he got to the man’s inky black eyes that he realized Alexis had spotted him.

  * * * *

  Alexis’s heart almost stopped when he looked over his shoulder to see Colton slowly pushing his cart toward him. His pace was steady and cool but his eyes were on fire as they traveled the length of his body. Shit, he felt worked over just from having this man’s eyes on him. What was wrong with him? He didn’t like men in that way. He would admit he had always had an appreciation for the male form but it was nothing that made him salivate the way seeing Colton did.

  The man was perfection. Bleached-blond, sea-foam-green-eyed perfection. Colt’s muscles weren’t as bulky as his own but you could tell he took care of his body. It made Alexis agitated that he could pull this response from him.

  “Hey, man,” Colton said, offering his hand in a shake and ignoring the full body perusal he knew Alexis had seen. Alexis took his hand in a brief but firm shake and also did his bit of ignoring as warmth permeated his hand. “Picking stuff up for the diner or for home?” Colt asked.

  “Home. I love the bread here.”

  “No place like it,” Colton agreed. “I don’t even live nearby but I am committed and drive over an hour to get here.”

  “You don’t live here?”

  “No, I was visiting my folks the day we met, which is why I was in town.”

  “Ah.” His eyes glazed over the bread for a moment before turning back to Colton. “Do you know where Bleu lives?”

  “Yeah, I had her investigated by my team of secret service agents after only knowing her for a few hours.”

  Alex appreciated his sarcasm. “Right. My team dropped the ball on that one.”

  “Well, we don’t know where she lives…” Colt began, stepping away from his cart to retrieve a loaf of bread. “But we know where she works.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting bread.”

  “You can’t get that bread. That’s brand bread. You need fresh.”

  “It’s two thirty in the morning on a Sunday. There is no fresh bread.”

  “This is a twenty-four-hour market. Of course there is fresh bread. Why do you even come here if not for the fresh bread?”

  “They have a large selection of nuts.”

  “Ass. Come on. Let me show you the real joys of a twenty-four-hour market.” Alex grabbed his arm and began to briskly walk toward the back of the store, where the magic really happened.

  “I can tell this is going to be one of those things where you get way more out of showing me than me being shown.”

  “No, you’ll love it, I swear.”

  “Even though I’m not a chef?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I have no real affinity for cooking beyond grilled cheese sandwiches and some magic on a grill?”

  “Yes.” Alex laughed but kept tugging him along, not giving up. He’d get Colton to appreciate the inner workings of a twenty-four-hour market if it killed him.

  They reached the back of the store and Alex slipped a five into the hands of one of the market’s workers. It was all very covert. He pushed through the swinging doors and stopped to inhale the rich scents. Fresh-baked bread and that leafy scent that could only come from fresh greens. The large warehouse-style space was prepping for the day’s upcoming business, not putting the best products out front since they knew there was basically no business on Sunday at 2:30 a.m.

  “Mmm. Smells good.” Colton was nodding to himself, scanning the area. He looked over at Alex and gently extracted his arm. “Can we get my bread now?”

  “Really? That’s it? You’re not impressed?”

  “It’s cool, Alex. I’m just not having a chef orgasm like you.”

  “No. That’s unacceptable.” He grabbed his arm once more and pulled him deeper into the market’s warehouse. A truck was pulling up to the open loading dock with a local farm’s name on the side. “See that? Most of the produce here is sourced locally! Do you know how rare that is…especially for a market of this size?” Alex took him around the warehouse, introducing him to the various people in charge of the individual departments. The bakery—where Colton was able to get some fresh bread—the deli, the butcher. All parts of the market cog that Alex couldn’t help but be fascinated by.

  Eventually Alex caught sight of the time. It was close to four in the morning. He’d dragged Colton through a grocery store for nearly two hours, making him listen to the benefits of natural, organic products. God, he probably thought he was a tool.

  “Shit, Colton. I’m sorry I’ve been rambling on for hours. Why didn’t you tell me what time it was?”

  Colton pulled his phone out to check the time, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “I didn’t know. I was having a good time…I’m not even tired.” He fingered the massive loaf of bread Alex had bought him. They’d joked that it was almost Bleu’s height. It was funny, but even though Alex had been having a great time with Colt, not once had he stopped thinking of Bleu.

  “You should do this with Bleu,” Colton said, pretty much reading his mind. “She’d love it. She’d love meeting all these people and talking about what they do.”

  “Yeah, she kind of has that ‘I must speak to everyone I meet about their hopes and dreams’ vibe, doesn’t she?” Alex clapped Colton on the back and steered him toward the exit. It was time to go, even though he didn’t want the night to end. But they both needed sleep.

  “This was fun.”

  “Yeah it was.”

  “We should hunt Bleu down and get her to hang out with us.”

  “Ya know, I am looking to get a tattoo. I should probably start to do some research.”

  “Maybe speak to some shop owners?”
/>
  “Say…this afternoon?” He grinned, appreciating the direction Colt’s mind was heading.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  * * * *

  “Bleu. Earth to Bleu.” Liam’s thick accent brought Bleu back to the present. She’d been so immersed in her thoughts of the late-night meeting with Alexis and Colton that she hadn’t heard Liam’s desires for his next tattoo at all. The whole situation was completely mind-boggling and layered with questions of serendipity and coincidence.

  How is it possible that on the same day she met the son of Officer Evans, who was possibly her last link to the man himself, along with the other man who directly connected to the events of that night? Ten years, they had all been living in the same general area and they had never run into each other until last week? And at the same time? And what if Alexis had come out with their food at a different moment? Would he have heard Colton and Bleu speaking about what happened and would he have sat down to tell them who he was?

  “Bleu!” Liam yelled, beginning to snap his fingers in her face. Fuck, she’d drifted off again. “You have the worst attention span of any woman I’ve ever bloody met.”

  “Sorry, Liam. Life is just happening a whole lot this week.” She took the myriad of sexy lady pictures for his tat inspiration. He seemed to be going with an alternative theme this time around. The ladies had heavy makeup, piercings, and nontraditional hair coloring. Not that she was throwing stones about the hair.

  “Liam. Not that I don’t love these pictures, but you have six pinup girls already. Soon you won’t need to buy porn. All you’ll have to do is look in a mirror.”

  “Love, please. I’ve been looking in a mirror for my porn even before Sheila.” He pointed to the first pinup she’d inked on him. A classic sexy blonde with red lips, a sailor’s uniform, and tits to high heaven. Bleu loved Sheila almost as much as Liam loved himself.

  “Your modesty is what I love about you, Liam.” She laughed, pushing some stray curls out of her face. She walked to her sketch table and placed the pictures in her inbox to sort for later. The entranceway jingle over the front door sounded. She glanced over to make sure her receptionist was greeting the customers and her mouth nearly dropped to the floor at the delicious sight of two Gods striding into the shop. One dark. One light.