Mystic Man

by E. J. Russell

  “The hell with it,” Aaron muttered, and started the car. If Cody wasn’t there, he wasn’t there. But if Aaron didn’t look, he’d never know. “It’s about time I learned to jump at a chance.”

  As he drove out of the Hillview campus and got back on the interstate to return to Mystic, he wasn’t sure whether to congratulate himself for taking another risk, or curse himself for raising unreasonable hopes.

  CODY WAVED goodbye to the family he’d escorted from the Sailing Center to the Children’s Museum and peered at the sky. Another hour to go, if he judged the sun’s position right. For some reason, his shift had seemed to creep past when usually the minutes sailed by like a ship before the wind.

  He sighed. Chalk it up to an Aaron hangover. Even his sister had remarked at dinner last night that he’d seemed distracted. Kaya had noticed it too, refusing at the last minute to show him her report.

  Oh well. He’d get over it eventually. Maybe not until the backpacking trip—which he’d never take if he didn’t decide on his destination. He turned to head back to the Sailing Center and was suddenly face-to-face with—

  “Aaron?” Cody blinked, his mouth falling open. It was as if he’d conjured Aaron with his mind, which was just nuts. Especially since in a gray tweed sport coat—with elbow patches!—white shirt, and blue tie, this flesh-and-blood Aaron looked even better than the imaginary version who’d kept Cody company since yesterday. And the smile lighting his face? Ungh. “What are you doing here?”

  Aaron’s smile faltered. “Oh. I…. You’re busy. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” He shuffled back a few steps. “I’ll just go—”

  “No!” Cody lunged forward, startling Aaron into another backward step. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leap at you like some kind of psycho. I was just surprised to see you.”

  Aaron winced. “I don’t have your number, but I should probably have left a message with the office or something.”

  “Hey. Just because I’m surprised doesn’t mean it’s a bad surprise. I like surprises.” He offered what he hoped was a teasing grin. “Unlike some people.”

  Luckily, Aaron took it in the right spirit and chuckled, his earlier bright expression returning. “Yeah. That’s me. Mr. Spontaneous.”

  “So, at the risk of making you bolt because you think I’m not glad to see you—which I totally am—what brings you back to the Seaport today?”

  “Well….” Aaron rubbed the back of his neck, an adorable flush painting his cheeks. “You, actually.”

  “Me? You mean you shelled out the money for a ticket on the off-chance of running into me?”

  “Well, I figured if I couldn’t find you, I could go back aboard the Morgan and generate drama in someone else’s life.”

  “You leaped.”

  He smiled. “I did. Straight at you.”

  A glow started in Cody’s belly and headed north—and south. Down, boy. “Really? Awesome! But I thought by now you’d be on your way to wherever it is you’re going next.”

  “That’s the thing.” Aaron’s flush deepened. “I’m already there.”

  “Where? The Seaport?”

  “No. I mean Connecticut. I just interviewed for a job as a history teacher-slash-librarian at Hillview Academy. I don’t know for sure yet, but the interviews went great, and they liked my presentation, so—”

  “Wait. You mean you’re not just a tourist?” Cody’s smile threatened to reach his ears. “You’re moving here?”

  “Yes. I mean that’s the plan, assuming the job comes through and—”

  Cody let out a whoop and grabbed Aaron around the waist, whirling him around in a circle in a crazy jig. “This is fantastic! We totally have to celebrate!”

  Aaron laughed, although he stumbled a bit from Cody’s unskillful, overenthusiastic dance lead. He stepped back, tugging his jacket straight. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested in… you know… a low-key celebration with a guy you only met yesterday.”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve been kicking myself for not getting your number.”

  “Really? Me too.”

  For a few seconds, they beamed at each other like grade-school kids who’d just discovered a mutual love of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

  Then Aaron blinked and shook his head like a dog shedding water. “My ex… well, he never got that I needed the release.” His eyes widened, and a flush crept up his neck. “I mean, not that kind of release.”

  Cody patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I get it.” An ex. That was good. That meant Cody was free to crush on Aaron without worrying about being a home-wrecker.

  “See, I’ve always had this thing, ever since I was a kid. Whenever I finished something major—like my seventh-grade science project, or a history term paper, or my MLS thesis—I get this rush, like I can’t stay inside anymore. I need to get out and share it with someone.” He shrugged. “Not a lot of someones, which is what Wayne could never understand. Not a party. Just a… a….”

  “A step outside the norm.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I know just what you mean.”

  “So you’d like to join me? Remember I’m not Mr. Excitement. I don’t do bar hops and clubs and dancing until dawn.”

  Cody waved a hand in dismissal. “Pshaw. That’s not the way to celebrate. All you get from that kind of celebration is a monster hangover and a boatload of regret—assuming you even remember anything about the evening. And how stupid is that? I mean, if you want to commemorate something, isn’t the point to be able to remember it later?”

  Aaron’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s… that’s an excellent point.”

  “Besides, we’re not only celebrating your new job—”

  “Potential job.” Aaron glanced over his shoulder as if he were afraid the Presumption Police might take him down.

  “Potential job, then. We’re celebrating a new Connecticut resident. If you’re moving here, we need to start acclimating you. What do you say to a real New England dinner?”

  Aaron’s expression turned dubious. “Isn’t that like boiled beef and rutabagas or something?”

  Cody barked a laugh. “You’re thinking of the classic New England boiled dinner, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” He dug his phone out of his belt pouch. “Do you have any food allergies?”

  “Noooo.” Aaron drew out the word, sounding more suspicious by the minute. This is going to be fun.

  “Excellent. Let me make a call. Won’t be a second.” Cody always felt self-conscious when anyone watched him talk on the phone, so he half turned away from Aaron to speed-dial Eliza. “Hey, Lize. I need a favor.”

  He heard her sigh clearly, despite the shrieks from a couple of nearby toddlers. “What now? Don’t tell me you’re leaving town immediately?”

  “No, you doofus. I want to take a friend out for dinner, and I need your organizational prowess.”

  “Hmmmm. I might be able to assist you. Is he hot?”

  “Eliza!” Cody’s face heated, and he turned even farther away from Aaron, who was mostly staring at his shoes, with occasional sidelong glances at Cody.

  “Well, is he?”

  Cody ran a hand through his hair. “You have no idea.”

  “Then I’m happy to help, especially if he’s likely to keep you at home instead of gallivanting off to Tierra del Fuego or wherever. Wait….” Her tone turned suspicious. “He’s not one of the people you’re leaving town with, is he?”

  “No. In fact, he’s going to be teaching history at a prep school, so turn off your big-sister radar and pay attention. Here’s what I need.”

  Chapter FIVE

  AARON WAS having second thoughts. Yeah, like that’s anything new. An impulsive drive was one thing, but the way Cody was talking about this dinner date…. Was it a date? Cody tossed a glance over his shoulder, and the slight up-down look, coupled with the grin and the slight flush? Oh yeah. This is a date.

  But was Aaron ready? He was still reeling from Wayne’s betrayal. Or was he? He poked at th
at mental sore spot, the way he always did when he was tempted to go out and meet somebody new, and found that it wasn’t the sharp pain it had been, paralyzing him, keeping him holed up in his condo night after night.

  No, it was more like the residual itch of a days-old mosquito bite. Annoying, but not debilitating. I can do this.

  But the way Cody kept talking about “the place in Guilford” rather than naming the restaurant made Aaron shift uneasily from foot to foot. Was the restaurant so out there that Cody couldn’t even name it? Was he afraid Aaron would google it on his phone and refuse to go, the way he’d done when offered a second chance to tour the Morgan.

  Aaron could hardly blame Cody if that was the case. After all, he had his phone in his hand, browser already pulled up on the screen, ready to do exactly that.

  Not that he’d refuse to go wherever Cody suggested—he just liked to be ready for whatever awaited him. Being able to scan the menu before he arrived meant that there’d be no surprises. He could prepare himself for a particular dish. Wayne had always scoffed at him for that, just as he mocked Aaron for planning the meals he cooked and following his plans to the letter. But food was important. It wasn’t something you should leave to chance.

  His neck started to prickle, his palms dampening, a sign that his anxiety was about to spike. Calm down. It’s just dinner. Don’t make a federal case out of it.

  Just then, Cody stuffed his phone into the pouch at his waist—and the historical costumes Cody had been wearing both times they’d met had nothing to do with how attractive Aaron found him. Oh no. Not at all.

  He turned back to Aaron and stepped in close, just inside Aaron’s personal space. “It’s all set.” He glanced down at himself. “I need to change.”

  “Don’t do it on my account.”

  Cody’s grin turned sly. “Like the outfit, do you, Mr. Historian?”

  And just as had happened the previous day, Cody’s playful attitude defused Aaron’s anxiety. He allowed himself an answering smile. “You could say that.”

  “Good to know. But they’re a bear to clean, and I’d rather not face a weekend of hand-washing if I trash this one tonight.”

  This place they were going had the potential to trash clothing? “Uh….”

  “And you probably want to lose the tie and jacket. Not that they’re not hot.” He tapped the suede patches on Aaron’s jacket sleeves. “Total sexy-professor look. But we’re both off the clock now. You drove here, right?”

  Sexy professor? Aaron fought the urge to tug at his collar, which was suddenly too tight. “Yes.”

  “Then how about this? We’ll both go home and change. Then I’ll pick you up at your hotel. Where are you staying?”

  “At an Airbnb in Clinton.” It wasn’t particularly convenient to Hillview, but it had the best reviews in the state and was affordable—even given Aaron’s current uncertain finances—especially since he could prepare his own meals. He gave Cody the address.

  “Perfect. I’ll be there at five. You’re okay with an early dinner, aren’t you? I figure you wouldn’t want to let the postinterview euphoria dissipate before the actual celebration, but we could wait until later if you want.”

  Warmth infused Aaron’s chest. How many people would think of that? However, it was exactly right. He’d have just enough time to shower and change, and the anticipation of spending the evening with Cody would extend his buzz long enough to get to the mysterious restaurant—where, with luck, Aaron wouldn’t make a complete fool of himself.

  “That’s perfect. I’ll wait for you out front.”

  Cody grinned again as he began walking backward down the path, away from Aaron. “That’s what I like. A man who doesn’t make me wait. See you soon.”

  Anticipation spurred Aaron to get ready so quickly he’d had to spend twenty minutes killing time on the Mystic Seaport website before heading downstairs from his quaint little rental only ten minutes before five.

  Habitually early, Aaron had endured far too many instances of waiting for rides in the past from his mother, his father, Wayne—watching car after car pass by because they had either forgotten him (his parents) or simply had no sense of punctuality (Wayne).

  He was ready to endure the same thing, but to his surprise, a battered blue Civic pulled up to the curb as Aaron reached the sidewalk. His heart leaped when Cody waved to him from the driver’s seat.

  Is he as eager to spend time with me as I am with him?

  He opened the door and slid into the car. “You’re early.”

  “I am.” Cody leaned forward with an exaggerated double take between Aaron and sidewalk. “However, you were earlier—barely—so I don’t feel like I should apologize.”

  “Nothing to apologize for. Early is good.”

  As Aaron fastened his seat belt, Cody studied him, his head cocked to one side. “You know,” he said, a definite teasing edge to his tone, “you’re already halfway to being a New Englander.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The khakis and royal blue polo. Very preppie. We just need to get a kelly green sweater for you to tie around your neck to complete the look. And naturally some top-siders with no socks.”

  “Top-siders?”

  “A kind of loafer. The official footwear of the prep-about-town.”

  Aaron glanced down at his brown oxfords. “Isn’t this okay?” Cody had on well-worn jeans and a blue T-shirt the color of his eyes. A navy UConn hoodie was draped over some kind of basket in the back seat. “I’m afraid I don’t have any more casual clothes with me.” Or at all. Another thing Wayne had always complained about—Aaron’s lack of fashionable denim.

  “It’s perfect. Really, there are no rules where we’re going. If you’re comfortable in what you’re wearing, I’m comfortable looking at you wearing it.” Cody waggled his eyebrows with a mock leer.

  Aaron was surprised into a laugh. “Well, that answers one question, I guess. I was wondering if this was a date. Is it? A date, I mean?”

  “Do… do you want it to be?”

  “I—Yes. Yes, I think I do.”

  Cody grinned, fanning himself with one hand. “Whew! I admit I was assuming, but you mentioned an ex so I figured you were more or less footloose and fancy free.” He started the car and pulled into traffic.

  “I don’t think anyone has ever described me that way, but I’m currently unattached, yes.”

  “Great!” He glanced apologetically at Aaron. “I mean, not great that you’re alone, not for you—unless you like begin alone—but great for me. Because I like you.”

  “I like you too. But there is something….”

  Cody froze, staring straight ahead, his hands tight on the steering wheel. “What?”

  “Where the hell are you taking me? Can you give me something more specific than ‘the place in Guilford’?”

  Cody blinked, his mouth agape, and then he laughed. He laughed for so long that Aaron was starting to get… well, not annoyed, but maybe a little uncomfortable.

  “Sorry. Sorry. It’s just—” Cody wheezed one last laugh. “Never mind. And now I absolutely will not tell you any more about our destination. We’ll let it be a surprise.”

  “You know by now that I’m not a big fan of surprises.”

  “I’m betting you won’t mind this one. So tell me, were you a teacher in California too?”

  “Now there’s a one-eighty in conversational subjects.”

  “Hey, we’re in a car with a broken radio. And besides, I think it’s rude to blast tunes at somebody rather than try to talk to them. You’ve got a history degree and a library science degree, and you’re melding those together here, for the benefit of some of New England’s most entitled teenagers. Did you do the same at home?”

  Home. He still didn’t want to think about that. “No. Actually, I worked in an advertising agency. I was in charge of researching copyrights, trademarks, and patents for new branding initiatives.”

  “That sounds… uh….”

  “Bori
ng?”

  Cody grinned. “Well, I didn’t want to say that, but since you brought it up. It just doesn’t seem like something you’d like doing. I mean, it’s pretty dry research, isn’t it? And at the Seaport, you seemed more like a guy who’s interested in history for the stories.”

  Aaron stared at him. “You know, you may be the only person—including me—who’s ever really gotten that.”

  Cody chuckled. “Maybe you should start hanging out with different people, because it seems pretty obvious to me.”

  Unable to come up with a reasonable response, Aaron looked out the window as Cody hummed “On the Road Again.”

  Their route didn’t take them back on the freeway—or rather the turnpike. For God’s sake, even the roads have different nomenclature here. According to the road signs, they were on Route 1, the Boston Post Road, and although they passed the occasional gas station or car lot or fast food place, it was still remarkably… rural. In Orange County these days, you could hardly tell where one city ended and another began. The houses here were different too—shingled or lap-sided or brick rather than the stucco Aaron was used to.

  “Aaaaand, here we are,” Cody announced.

  Aaron peered out the windshield. “You’re taking me to Walmart for dinner?”

  “No, doofus.” Instead of turning left into the Walmart lot, Cody hung a right and then a sharp left in front of a little red house. There was a red and white sign in the grassy verge directly opposite its white door.

  “Oh my God,” Aaron blurted through his laughter. “The place is actually called The Place.”

  Cody circled the building and parked in a rough lot behind it. “I didn’t mean to deceive you, but it never occurred to me that you didn’t realize that was the restaurant’s name, and then I couldn’t resist.”

  “I think under the circumstances I might have done the same.” Aaron climbed out of the car, grateful he’d brought a jacket since the seating was outdoors and the air was noticeably cooler with the approaching sunset.

  “There. You see? You forgive me, and you’re totally not freaked out by the surprise. Win-win.” Cody opened the back door, tossed his UConn sweatshirt over his shoulder, and lifted out a wicker picnic basket.