Him Improvement (Dreamspun Desires Book 89)

by Tanya Chris

  MAC jogged down the stairs, taking them two at a time. He’d made too many terrifying trips up the creaking elevator yesterday to feel like risking it today. Four flights down was nothing. A good way to get his blood moving. Anyway, he paid for a gym. It would ironic to turn down a chance for free exercise.

  It was three long blocks from their new place to his parking space behind Hailey’s Comic. Where he was going to leave his car once 502 Main Street turned into a construction zone, he didn’t know, but he’d figure it out. Money smoothed over a lot of potholes, and no obstacle could daunt him today.

  “Hey, Miguel,” he called to the teenager waiting at the bus stop in front of the church. He waved at the rest of the kids, some of whom he recognized, but he didn’t stop. He was excited about getting back to work after a couple of days off. He never took time off, but he’d decided the fastest way to get Hailey into the new apartment was to supervise the move himself. Last night, thanks to two days of wrangling movers, they’d slept on a bed intended for two adults in a bedroom that was all theirs.

  The new place was absolutely postage-stamp-sized, smaller than it had looked empty, which was why he’d made so many elevator trips yesterday. Some of the furniture had gone up only to come straight down again. He would be making do without a lot of things he’d previously considered indispensable, like nine-tenths of his wardrobe, but it was only temporary, and he didn’t really give a shit.

  All those cupboards full of fancy serving dishes. As if he’d ever served anyone. The last person to eat at his loft had been Julia-Louise, and they’d used cardboard containers and disposable chopsticks. And then there were the knickknacks—doodads with no purpose whatsoever that had been chosen by his designer. He couldn’t even describe them now that they’d been out of sight a few days. There’d been books he never read on shelves he only walked past, sports equipment for sports he’d stopped playing a whole career ago, clothes for events he hated attending. His loft had been full of irrelevancies.

  Only his most crucial clothes had found their way into the tiny closet, which ultimately he’d taken possession of despite how much he wanted to fill it with stuff for Hailey. Hailey’s clothes were easily folded into a dresser.

  For now.

  Mac had ideas. Which was why he was excited to get back to work.

  Driving straight from Ball’s End into downtown Ballhaven was a new experience—a not entirely positive one. Narrow streets clogged by the remains of the year’s first snowfall meant rush-hour bottlenecks, but it beat detouring to the east side to get a shower first, and this morning he’d had the pleasure of sharing a shower with Hailey.

  No sooner had he turned his mind to the question of how to spend the time in traffic productively than his car announced an incoming call from his mother.

  “Gregory,” she said, her tone suggesting trouble. “Was there something you wanted to tell us?”

  Shit. He was so going to kill Julia-Louise.

  “Sorry, Mom. I meant to call. I’ve just been busy.”

  “Busy doing what?”

  “Moving,” he admitted, because he could tell she already knew. Since he was only in Ball’s End temporarily, it hadn’t seemed worth bothering his parents about. “But I’ve been meaning to call you because I’m sure you and Dad would like to meet my new…. Hailey,” he finished, cowardly avoiding a gendered term in case she didn’t know Hailey’s gender yet. It would have to be discussed, of course, just maybe not right—

  “We’d love to meet him.” Or now was good. “Bring him for dinner Sunday. Julia-Louise tells us we’re in for a treat.”

  He couldn’t decide if that was sarcastic or not. Julia-Louise loved Hailey, but she also loved getting her brother in trouble.

  “And you and Hailey have chosen to move to the south end of Ballhaven, have you?”

  Mac stifled a chuckle at his mother’s avoidance of the neighborhood’s colloquial name. It reminded him that he really did need to do something about the branding. It also let him know where the coolness in her tone was coming from—not the gender of his lover but their choice of location.

  “Hailey’s wrapping up some business in the area. It’s only temporary.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I’m just pulling into work,” he lied. “I can tell you about it Sunday. Will Julia-Louise be there?”

  “Of course.”

  “Excellent.” Because Julia-Louise was going to help him sell their parents on this move. After all, it was her idea.

  People were already buzzing through the hallways when Mac got into work. Plans were moving forward to start demolition. Contracts were being signed, dumpsters ordered, drawings revised to accommodate the new community center. Netting, fencing, signage—a myriad of details coming together.

  The investors were happy that Phase I was moving forward again, and Mac was starting to put the fear that Hailey would find out about his role in the eviction behind him. He spent the day busier than ever, without the usual sense of frustration, and wrapped things up shortly after five, which his team was starting to get used to. Everyone was going home earlier these days, and smiles had become the norm, most of all his.

  He made a quick stop at the gym, paying extra attention to his shoulders, then back to Ball’s End. It was Wednesday, which meant Julia-Louise had his parking place, but he lucked into a spot not too much farther down and hoofed it back to the store.

  Women’s voices came from the back, overlapping each other tunefully. Hailey knelt in front of a bookcase by the front door, a cardboard box by his side and several books in each hand. Closing the store was taking a toll on him. Maybe he hadn’t had big financial aspirations when he’d opened Hailey’s Comic, but he’d had goals, and now he felt like he’d failed on them. At work, Mac had managed to bury his role in that failure with busyness, but now, faced with the weary droop of his lover’s shoulders, guilt rose again.

  “I found a spot for the AA meeting.”

  That perked Hailey up. “Where?”

  “Next door. St. Theresa’s.”

  “Really? How’d you manage that? They’ve never been open to it before.”

  “Let’s just say that Father Rouillard owes me a favor.”

  “Does that mean you’re not going to knock the church down? Wait, you didn’t threaten Father Rouillard, did you?”

  “What if I did? Isn’t that how it works in this neighborhood? He hosts your AA meeting, I don’t knock down his church.”

  “I guess so.” Hailey looked doubtful enough that Mac gave him a kiss and an alternate explanation.

  “I pointed out the futility of worrying about property damage when the roof is caving in, and he saw my point.”

  And yeah, maybe Mac had applied some leverage, but it was the good kind of leverage, like the weight C&G had thrown behind Yolanda’s petition for more frequent bus service between the outer neighborhoods and downtown. Mac had power. It was time to use it for the benefit of someone other than himself.

  “Can we get out of here? I have somewhere I want to take you.”

  “The book club’s here until nine.”

  “If you can trust the AA people not to trash the place, you can trust those ladies.” Although they did get a little rowdy sometimes and were definitely not sober. “And no, you don’t need to be here in case a customer comes in. Put up a sign telling them to help themselves, and let’s go. This is important.”

  Julia-Louise would have to walk herself out tonight, but why shouldn’t she? Ball’s End had lost its ability to scare him somewhere along the line.

  Not that he was easily intimidated, but he’d always kept his guard up when walking down streets like this one. Now it seemed less like he would run into trouble here than anywhere. The people here knew him. They knew he belonged to Hailey. Even if someone started trouble with him for some reason, there’d be others who’d have his back. For Hailey’s sake, if not his own.

  And Mac knew them in return, or was coming to. He couldn’t name a single neighbo
r at his loft, but he could name dozens here: Edgar; Pia’s mother, Patrice; Alexander’s parents who both worked downtown and took turns picking him up; Miguel’s parents who ran the laundromat, which Mac thankfully didn’t have to use. The prospect of doing his own laundry was foreign enough—the idea of carting it to a whole other building was completely alien.

  He even knew Miguel’s older brother, Mateo, though he couldn’t help giving him the side-eye every time he saw him. Had Hailey really fooled around with him? Or had that been only a hypothetical? They didn’t act like exes, but Hailey never did more than smirk when Mac asked.

  “So now that we’re living together,” Mac said as he steered them away from Ball’s End with the thought of Miguel’s brother teasing at the back of his mind.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I probably should’ve asked you this before—”

  “Oh my God, is this the exclusivity talk? Yes, you should’ve asked before. You fucked me without a condom the other day.”

  “I did?” He hadn’t meant to. Everything just felt so right with Hailey.

  “Relax, it’s fine. You already showed me your paperwork or I wouldn’t have let you. But I should get to a clinic. Not that I’m aware of any reason to worry, but it’s the adult thing to do.”

  Mac found himself suddenly uninterested in being an adult. Fucking Hailey without a condom, Hailey fucking him without a condom—those were both things that should happen immediately.

  “Is that where we’re headed?” Hailey asked. “To a clinic?”

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t. He made a note to schedule that ASAP as he pulled into his true destination.

  “A grocery store?” For a moment Hailey’s questioning tone made Mac wonder if he’d misjudged, but the way Hailey’s fingers clenched hard around his forearm demonstrated his true enthusiasm. “Do you know how long it’s been?”

  “I can guess.”

  “I’m so excited. Except, wait. Shit. I don’t have any money. I mean really, really no money. Less than usual.”

  Mac couldn’t help wondering why that was. Books were being sold—at a discount, sure, but at a faster rate than usual—and there was no reason for Hailey to bother paying rent anymore. But he accepted that Hailey had undoubtedly given the last proceeds from his store to someone he figured was more deserving and went straight to the point. “You don’t need money. I’m buying.”

  “This is going to be a problem.”

  “Why? Just let me pay.”

  “For the rent and the groceries and the utilities and the everything? I need a job. I mean, I’ll get one, but I can’t until the store’s shut at the end of the year.”

  “Until then, let me worry about it. The loft costs me more in co-op fees than our rent does.”

  “But you’re still paying that,” Hailey said shrewdly. He hugged his arms around himself, looking out his window at the grocery store with such longing that Mac was determined to satisfy it.

  “How about I do my grocery shopping and you accompany me?” He had a feeling that once he started tossing steaks in his cart, Hailey would voice an opinion, and sure enough, Hailey had something to say as soon as the first package of red meat landed.

  If Mac bought chicken, it had to be free-range chicken. Vegetables, tofu, almond milk. By the time they’d made it around the store, he’d learned what Hailey would eat if he had the money to feed himself. The steaks went back into the case—they’d been more of a bargaining chip than something Mac actually needed—and a beaming Hailey helped the cashier bag their items into the reusable bags he cheekily added to their order.

  It wasn’t as if Mac made a habit of grocery shopping—he had a service for that, which of course didn’t serve Ball’s End—but he was familiar with the concept. It was Hailey who gawked at the displays like they were filled with diamonds, the length of his gaze telling Mac what to throw in the cart until Hailey got bold enough to add his own items. He dithered between tubs of unflavored yogurt, searching for the lowest per unit cost, and lusted after the fruit so hard Mac suspected him of having scurvy.

  Mac would’ve bought it all, everything Hailey stopped to glance at for more than a moment. It was Hailey who reminded him that as big as their refrigerator was—it was only big to Hailey; the refrigerator in the loft was at least another fifty cubic inches—there was no point in buying more fresh food than they could eat in a week.

  When they got back out to the car with what really might be too much food, Mac caught Hailey frowning over the receipt.

  “I did have an idea about a job for you,” he said as he put the car in gear. “I’d love for you to come work for me at C&G. I’m not just saying that because you’re my….” He still struggled with the word boyfriend.

  “Totally exclusive lover?”

  “Totally exclusive.” God that felt good. “Anyway, my point is that you’re fully qualified.”

  “I don’t know, Greg.”

  “You could choose your projects, even propose your own. I definitely don’t want you going to work for my competition.” That would be a major conflict of interest.

  “The corporate world might not be for me, but thank you. I’ll think about it.”

  “A new business, then? I could help with start-up costs.” He had little faith in Hailey’s ability to make a profit—not for lack of business acumen but for lack of the necessary bloodthirstiness—but that was okay. He’d cover the losses. But Hailey only shrugged.

  “Well, you don’t have to decide now. I signed a six-month lease on the apartment, so we’ve got time to figure out where we’re heading next. I’m flexible as long as we stay within commuting distance of downtown.”

  “I thought….” Hailey hesitated.

  “Thought what?”

  “That we were going to live in Ball’s End.”

  “While you get things wrapped up, sure. I know you need to find a place for the kids to go after school”—and he’d reluctantly accepted that said place was probably going to be his apartment—“but once the school year’s over, there’s nothing tying us there, and God knows there’s a million better places we could be.”

  “According to you. I like living there.”

  Temporary. Mac had only expected it to be temporary—moving to Ball’s End, that was, not moving in with Hailey. He scrambled for alternatives, trying to come up with Plan B. Or Plan F—whatever the fuck plan he was on. But shit. Ball’s End. Really? It wasn’t as bad as he’d once thought, but it was so far from ideal.

  But if Ball’s End was ideal for Hailey, then Ball’s End it would be.

  “If you want to stay there, we’ll stay. You told me about… community, right? I was listening, I swear.”

  “It’s home. I know I could probably build up community again somewhere else, but….”

  “I get it. We’ll stay.”

  “Thank you for not making me choose between you and Ball’s End.” Hailey leaned across the console to kiss him. “I love you.”

  For one giddy, euphoric moment, Mac believed Hailey loved him. Him. Mac. Specifically and truly. But the moment faded before he could act on it. How many people had he heard Hailey say I love you to? He probably told the UPS guy he loved him. It was only because it was the first time he’d told Mac that made it feel so special.

  The four flights Mac had jogged down that morning felt a lot longer going up loaded with grocery bags, but he was climbing the stairs with Hailey at his side, and that counted for something. They put their groceries away and whipped up a quick but healthy dinner, then tumbled into the bed that’d been made up with Hailey’s too-small Spider-Man sheets and Mac’s too-large duvet.

  It’d been a day full of ups and downs—both in terms of stairs and emotions—but Mac woke up with a smile on his face and a whistle on his lips, ready to do it again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  MAC examined Hailey with a critical eye, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say.

  “More formal than this, huh?” As usual, Hailey
picked up on his mood without being prompted. “I’ve got those black pants I could put on.”

  Right. Those shiny, satin-striped trousers that made him look like one of the Brady boys at a disco. They’d be an improvement over the artfully ripped jeans, and Mac definitely didn’t hate the way Hailey’s ass looked in them, but still—

  He’d yet to convince Hailey to buy an entire new wardrobe, and even if he had, Hailey likely would’ve bought things much like what he already owned, none of which was exactly suitable for meeting Mac’s parents. Which was why Mac had asked his tailor to send a few things over, only now he wasn’t sure how to bring that up. Hailey ate up presents of lingerie, but how he’d react to presents of conservatively tailored dress wear, Mac didn’t know.

  Selfishly, he wanted Hailey to make a good impression, to stave off whatever objections his parents might otherwise raise. If Hailey could come across more like a Columbia graduate and less like a Ball’s End street rat, maybe they’d overlook the long hair, the multiple piercings, and all the other things Mac had once judged Hailey for himself but that were so Hailey to him now, he couldn’t live without them.

  Tonight Hailey had his hair twisted into an updo Mac would’ve called elegant on his sister—of course she’d have finished it with diamonds instead of the plastic-beaded flowers Pia made—and he was wearing that purple floofy shirt through which the shadow of his nipple piercing could be faintly discerned if one looked closely in that general area, which Mac could never stop himself from doing.

  “I bought you some stuff,” he said hesitantly. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Why would I mind? You know your parents best. Plus, I love clothes.” Hailey took the garment bag from him with a kiss and an expectant smile, but once he’d put on the charcoal gray pants and lighter gray shirt, Mac couldn’t help frowning. The clothes fit nicely—Mac’s knowledge of Hailey’s body was as accurate as extensive study could make it—and Hailey was fingering the material as if he loved it, but….

  “What? I don’t look good?”