by Sean Michael
“We could, but… they do lots for me, and there’s the cancer, you know? It’s okay. I don’t mind. It’s only the summers that are killer busy. It’s starting to wind down. We’ll have a little boost at Christmas, but that’s it.”
“What about the jams and canning the vegetables and stuff—who does all that?” Because that seemed like an even harder job than running the store to Flynn. He might like to eat food, but he wasn’t into preparing it. Especially for storage like that.
“My mom, my aunt Patty, my aunt Yolanda. They have a little cottage industry.”
“I bet it’s good stuff.” He browsed through the goods, finding the jars full of preserved fruit and vegetables fascinating. Almost like ghost veggies and fruits, locked forever at the moment of their death. He shook himself. God, he was a nutjob sometimes.
A short caravan of cars pulled up, people buying apples and pumpkins, butternut squash, and corn and walnuts. It was a crazy flurry of business, and then they were alone again.
It kind of left him blinking, and he chuckled. “That was something.” He didn’t quite know what, but it was definitely something.
“Yeah, I know.” Blaine grinned at him, and it hit him how lovely Blaine was, long-haired and loose-limbed with big bright eyes. “They’re like birds.”
“I do love the way you see the world.” Blaine was like a free spirit, only he was grounded at the same time. Flynn found himself moving closer.
“You want a drink, man?”
“I’ve got my water.” He hefted it to show Blaine. “But thanks.” He stopped short of actually rubbing shoulders with Blaine, but it was a near thing. Now that he was letting himself look without anything else—like ghosts—coloring his perception, he found himself definitely attracted. Oh, he had been from the start, but it was deeper now. Sexier.
“We make one hell of a cup of coffee, and the chai is stunning. Mom will start with hot apple cider next weekend.”
“Oh well, in that case. Let me try the chai.” He wasn’t really much of a tea drinker, but if Blaine thought it was stunning, he wanted to try it.
“Sure.” The chai was in a little heated container, and the liquid that came out of the spout was fragrant, milky, and wonderful.
Flynn took the cup and buried his nose in the steam. “Mmm. It definitely smells good.” He took a careful sip, finding that the flavor danced on his tongue. “Oh, it is stunning.”
“Thanks! My recipe.” Blaine took a goofy little bow.
Flynn laughed softly, utterly charmed by this man. “You invent other foodstuffs?” Maybe Blaine should have a cookbook out here along with the canned goods.
“I like to cook. I like mixing flavors up.”
“You ever thought of doing a cookbook? You’ve got perfect product placement if you’re selling stuff that you use in the recipes.” He took another sip of the chai, liking the way it warmed him up. Not that he was cold—he was very warm-blooded—but still, it was a pleasant sensation.
“We’ve done one with community farm-to-table recipes. Just a silly self-published thing.”
“That’s great! That’s what I’m talking about. Did it sell well?” He looked around, not seeing any copies. Was that a good sign?
“Okay, yeah. We’ll bring it back out for Christmas shoppers.”
“That’s great—you’re a published author. I’m jealous.” He smiled at Blaine, happy for him. Somehow, being accomplished in a hodgepodge of different things seemed right for Blaine. Suited him. He tried to imagine the man in a suit and just couldn’t.
“I’m a dude who makes great chai and sees ghosts.”
“See? Totally jealous here.” He’d love to actually see his mom, not just feel her presence. It wasn’t a mean kind of jealousy or anything. Maybe envy would be a better word. Oh yeah, he really was a dork, and he was glad he hadn’t said any of that out loud.
“Dude, you’re a scientist with a degree. My folks are going to think you’re the best thing ever.”
“Yeah? Is that what parents like? Degrees? Not happy kids who are pursuing their dreams?” He thought Blaine was brave.
“Shit. Happy kids who are pursuing their dreams is code for shiftless loser son who can’t commit.”
Flynn found himself needing to comfort Blaine, so he reached out and touched his shoulder. “You don’t believe that describes you, do you?”
Blaine shrugged. “They never say that, but I know.”
“Ah, man.” Like he had the night before, he pulled Blaine into a hug, feeling like Blaine really needed it.
Blaine was stiff for a heartbeat; then he relaxed, melted into the touch. They stayed like that for a few minutes, simply hugging. Flynn didn’t get a whole lot of hugs in his life, and he was enjoying the contact, the human part of this whole making-friends thing.
A car pulled up, reminding him where they were, and he reluctantly let go, stepped back. He offered Blaine a warm smile, though.
“Time to work, buddy,” Blaine said. “Have your chai.”
“Thanks, man. You don’t mind if I sit in the corner here and hang out?”
“Of course not. We close in half an hour, and we’re closed Sunday through Wednesday, this time of year.”
“Cool. So we can hang out then, get to know each other better.” Because Flynn wanted to. He wanted to learn all about Blaine.
“I’d like that. After I get to sleep in on Sunday, right?”
“You’ll need that if we’re going back out to the hospital tonight. And I promise I won’t wake you so we can talk.” He was a considerate roommate.
“Yeah, weekends are always tough, but worth it.”
“Good, good. It’d suck if you didn’t think so.” Flynn knew what it was to have a lot on your plate. He’d been doing school and working odd jobs on weekends and during the summer for a while. He’d received a substantial settlement after the wreck that killed his parents, which his aunt had put aside until he’d turned eighteen, but working meant it had stretched past university so that now he could afford to be without pay—for a while at least.
He watched Blaine interact with the customers, loving how easy the man was, how sincere and gentle. Everything Flynn had learned about the guy told him he was an all-around good guy. It was great to see.
As soon as the latest group of people left, Blaine started packaging up food, putting different things different places.
Flynn finished up his chai and tossed the container in the bin. “You sure I can’t help with anything?”
“Do you want to help me put together the food-bank boxes? The food that needs eating before Thursday will go in, and Dad will deliver half to people close by, and the other half I’ll run to the food bank Monday.”
“Cool, I’d love to help out. Just let me know what needs to go where.”
“Grab those plastic bins from the back, huh?”
Flynn headed back and found a good-sized storage room filled with bins and books, a chair, coffee and snacks, and random decorations.
The space suited Blaine to a T. Grinning, Flynn grabbed the plastic bins and went back to Blaine, who was sorting and whistling, a half-eaten apple beside him.
He loved how easygoing Blaine was, how he simply got to work and didn’t seem to stress over it.
Flynn put the bins in a row on the ground.
“So,” Blaine explained, “you put six apples in each, and then all the rest of the summer veg that’s still out—the tomatoes, the okra. I think there’s a watermelon or two left.”
“Cool. It’s great that this stuff doesn’t go to waste.” Flynn started filling the boxes as directed.
“Dad has always been into supporting the community that supports us, you know?”
“It’s a great philosophy.”
“I think so, yeah. Some of the older folks are in real need of good, solid food.”
Flynn nodded and hummed as he continued to divide the food among the boxes.
They were interrupted by the sound of whistling as an older man w
ho looked an awful lot like Blaine came in.
“Dad! Hey!”
“Hey, son. Who’s this? A new friend? Another ghostbuster?”
“Yep. And a new roommate. Flynn, my dad, John. Dad, Flynn, tech guy.”
Flynn wiped his hands on his jeans and held one out. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Pleased. Tech guy, huh? You do websites and stuff?”
“That and also run the stats, come up with programs to work with the ghost-capturing hardware, run analysis, that kind of thing.” And spend nights in dark scary places looking for specters. Wasn’t that what every nerd did?
“Huh. That’s cool. You in school?”
“Just graduated, sir. And I got my dream job.” There weren’t a lot of ghost-hunting jobs out there.
“Excellent. Well, I know that you guys are busy tonight, so Mom says everyone come to the house for supper. She’s got stew and cornbread.”
“Oh wow, that sounds delicious. Thank you, sir.” He shook John’s hand again, thinking it was a good sign that Blaine’s mother was up to cooking. She must be doing okay.
John grunted, then looked at his son, shook his head. “I’ll finish up here, boy. You look exhausted. Catch a nap.”
“I’m okay.”
“Do as you’re told.”
Now there was a dad voice, even if Flynn had never had one aimed at him before. He ducked his head, staying out of it, and made for the exit in case Blaine and his father needed to talk.
“Thanks, Pop. The cash box is locked up in the safe already.”
John’s answer faded as Flynn stepped out of the store area. He sat on a picnic bench, waiting for Blaine to join him.
Blaine came out, a huge box of vegetables and fruit in his arms. “Pop says this is for us.”
“Cool, that’s really nice of him. Our grocery bill should be smaller this week, shouldn’t it?” He went and took the box from Blaine. “I got it. You’ve been working all day.” Besides, it was just one more box to carry in.
“Yeah? Thanks. I’m…. Are the guys grilling? Tell me they aren’t just setting random fires….”
Flynn sniffed. “Grilling, I think. It smells good anyway. They were still asleep when I came out. We’d better tell them we’re invited to your folks’ for dinner.”
“Totally. I’m going to jump in the shower and catch a twenty-minute nap.”
“Sure. I’ll let the guys know about the invite. It was okay that I said yes, right?” He didn’t think John was just being polite, but he could have misread the signs. He didn’t always pick up on social cues the best.
“Totally. They bitch, but they like you guys.”
“Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” He bumped hips with Blaine. “You go get your shower. I’ll deal with the guys’ fire-making and put away this stuff. What time do we need to be ready to go over?”
“We’ll eat at five and head out to the hospital again at six thirty.”
“Works for me. Have a good nap.” He followed Blaine in and headed for the kitchen to drop the box there before going out to talk to the guys. So far this new endeavor was working out great.
Chapter Five
“GODDAMN it!” Blaine slammed out of the hospital, livid.
Seriously? All that activity yesterday and nothing tonight? Not a fucking blip?
“Hey, it happens, right?” Flynn said, following him with the laptop and the EMF reader. “We have to keep trying.”
“Yeah. Yeah, whatever. It was just… yesterday….”
Yesterday had rocked.
“Yeah, it was a great first time. I’m glad it was yesterday that was good. If it had been like today, I would have been really discouraged.”
“Most nights are like tonight,” Darnell said, carrying equipment past them to the van.
“A lot of nights, but not most,” Jason countered. “It’s a fine line, but it is a line.”
“It’s disappointing, though.”
You should have taken them to 204.
“Yeah.” Flynn bobbed his head in agreement. “But we’ll look at the data and see if we can’t figure out why yesterday was so much better. I mean, maybe something as simple as the weather can make a difference.”
God, the man was a Pollyanna. Which wasn’t a bad thing, but aggravating when he wanted to wallow in his annoyance for a while.
Blaine really wanted to burst into tears and take a nap.
They packed up the van and all climbed in, Flynn settling in beside him.
“Fifty percent hit rate’s pretty good, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it was just so big before, you know?” And he was so tired.
“Yeah. Weird that it wouldn’t be good again tonight. But maybe the ghosts were tired. Oh! Maybe it was because you’re tired, so you didn’t feel it because your energy is low. Maybe that’s why they weren’t drawn to you this time.” Flynn shook his head. “I’m babbling.”
“Babble away.” Blaine could sleep through anything. Anything.
“I’ll be good. Try and process internally for a while.” Flynn gave him a wry smile.
Jason plopped down on the other side of him, Darnell sitting up front with Will again. Then they were off, bumping along the road.
Gently knocking his shoulder, Jason leaned in. “You okay, man?”
“I am. Disappointed. Tired. But okay.”
Jason sighed and nodded. “Yeah. I think this might have been the least successful night we’ve had at the hospital. I think we should do it again next weekend. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”
“Maybe.” Maybe he’d go out on his own tomorrow night, if only to see if he was losing his mind.
“We could always go out tomorrow night,” Jason suggested, as if reading Blaine’s thoughts. “I know we don’t usually work Sunday nights because Darnell has a day job, but we could make an exception.”
“What about during the day?” Flynn asked from his other side. “Do you guys do any hunting during daylight hours?”
“We could do that. Hell, it’s supposed to be cold and clammy tomorrow,” Darnell pointed out. “Overcast. Could be cool. I’m in.”
Flynn and Jason both looked at Blaine expectantly. They usually didn’t do days because one or more of them tended to be working, and when they went out Friday and Saturday nights, they usually slept the weekend days away. They’d ended early tonight, though, given the poor luck they’d had, and they could still sleep in and spend the afternoon back at the hospital.
He nodded, both Jason and Darnell whooping like they’d won a prize. Flynn smiled at him, eyes full of life.
“You guys can stay at the barn if you want. But I’m going to crash.”
“Be a quicker turnaround this evening if we do,” Will noted.
Darnell and Jason both nodded their agreement.
“It’ll be my first official night in my new home,” Flynn noted. “Thanks again for having me.”
“You’re welcome. You’ll work out just fine.” At least he hoped so.
“I’ll do my best. I’ll try not to be all about the shoptalk too. It’d be a bit much if we were on it twenty-four seven. At least I think it would.”
“Uh-huh.” He dozed a little, the sound of David’s voice such a comfort. Wait. David?
Everything faded, and Blaine wasn’t hearing words anymore, only the sound washing over him, letting him sleep.
“Hey, man, we’re home.”
“Good deal.” He opened his eyes, surprised for a second to see the barn, which was stupid because he’d lived at the farm his entire life, and he’d lived in the barn for five years.
“You were out pretty good,” Flynn told him. “Fast asleep. It was almost a shame to wake you. You can have something to eat now, though, before bed.” Flynn climbed out of the van and smiled back at him.
“Uh-huh.” He got out too. “Are we leaving the shit in the van?”
“Yeah. It’s safe in there.”
They all made their way into the barn, and Flynn headed right for the k
itchen. “Grilled cheese sandwiches sound good?”
“Yeah. Great.” Those were perfect two-in-the-morning snacks.
Blaine sat at the big table with the guys, listening to the chatter as they talked about what a bust tonight had been but how they were all hopeful for tomorrow.
When the sandwiches were handed out, they weren’t pretty, but they smelled good, and his stomach rumbled. Flynn grinned as he took the seat next to Blaine’s.
“Thanks, man.” Blaine ate half of one, his entire body heavy.
Flynn put an arm around his shoulders, and it felt good. “You okay, Blaine? Just tired?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s tough, Saturday night.” He ran on too little sleep and too much adrenaline.
“How about we get you to bed, then?” Flynn stood and helped him up, hand at his elbow, steadying him when he swayed. “Oh man. You’re worn out.”
“I am.” Come sleep with me.
“I wish there was a way we could help you out so you could get some sleep during the day too. It would make your Saturday nights easier.”
Blaine couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked out for him, worried over whether he got enough sleep. Aside from his parents of course.
“I’m okay.” They headed upstairs, and Flynn came right into his bedroom with him, like it was the most natural thing ever.
Flynn tugged off his sweater, then pushed him down onto his bed and bent to take off his sneakers.
He blinked like a moron, watching Flynn.
Flynn untied and slipped off his right sneaker, then his left. His socks were next, Flynn balling them together before tossing them along the floor.
“You’ll be more comfortable if you at least get the jeans off.”
“Uh-huh.” He just about managed to get his belt unbuckled.
Flynn shook his head and made a soft noise. “I’m not coming on to you, okay? Just helping out.” Flynn undid the top button and carefully pulled down the zipper. “I want you to be awake when I come on to you.”
“You want to come on to me?” No one had in so long.
Color lit up Flynn’s cheeks, and he ducked his head a moment before meeting Blaine’s eyes again and smiling. “Yeah. I kinda do. Where kinda means really.”