Tartan Candy

Home > Other > Tartan Candy > Page 3
Tartan Candy Page 3

by KC Burn


  They rounded the truck, and Jaime curled his lip as he looked at the new A/C unit.

  “Why do they always have to weigh so much?”

  Caleb ignored the rhetorical question and pulled out the furniture dolly. At least they only had to maneuver the unit onto that, and not carry the damn thing all the way up to the twelfth floor.

  Wrestling the unit onto the dolly only took a few minutes, but it was enough that by the time they wheeled it into the hotel, they were both disheveled, flushed, and coated in sweat. The blast of cool air in the hotel made Caleb shiver, but it was a welcome, delicious shiver.

  As they made their slow, clunky way around the obstructions of cleaning and room service carts in the back halls of the hotel that no guest ever saw, they approached a set of double doors leading into one of the banquet rooms. The doors enabled servers to bring food into the banquet rooms by a more direct route from the kitchen, but they were normally not propped open.

  Caleb’s unruly curiosity—piqued by the previous night’s encounter with 305—had him slowing down and looking into the large ballroom. A quick scan of the room provided a hoped for, yet completely unexpected, reward.

  By the buffet table a crimson long-sleeved T-shirt caught his eye. Caleb’s mouth dried out as he took in the rest of 305’s appearance. The shirt perfectly accentuated the bright red streaks in his hair, which matched the tight black jeans. However, he didn’t look particularly happy as he stood by the buffet, picking at whatever was on his plate. An attractive woman approached him, although she appeared to be even older than Caleb. 305 smiled at her, and Caleb’s unwelcome jealousy reared its ugly head yet again. If 305 had smiled at him last night, he might have never left. Or come on the spot. Or maybe just expired from the beauty of it.

  This time, the flush heating Caleb’s cheeks came from an entirely different source, and this type of heat was far more welcome than hundred-plus-degree weather.

  “Caleb! What the hell? Can we get the fuck on with this?”

  Jaime’s irritated tone snapped Caleb’s attention away from the beautiful man in the ballroom.

  “Sorry, sorry. Let’s go.”

  Jaime narrowed his bloodshot eyes and peered suspiciously at Caleb. “Yes, let’s get this over with. I’m too damned tired to enjoy playing handyman.”

  The last thing Caleb wanted was for Jaime to catch sight of 305, because he wanted to keep that little dream all to himself and not worry about his cousin snagging a date or a hookup.

  It wasn’t until they were back in the truck, Jaime snatching up his latte like it was a long-lost treasure, that Caleb realized he hadn’t played off his attraction to 305 as casually as he’d hoped.

  “So what… or should I say who… got you so flustered in there? It’s not like they were having a strip show or anything.”

  Despite the increasingly chilly breeze blowing from the dashboard’s vents, more blood rushed to Caleb’s cheeks. Thankfully, his skin didn’t show a blush very well, although he’d bet 305’s pale skin would pinken beautifully.

  With a mental slap, Caleb wrenched his thoughts away from the man with the red-streaked hair. He was never going to be able to bluff his way out of this one if he couldn’t control his thoughts for five minutes.

  “Nothing.”

  Jaime stared at him. Not surprisingly, because Caleb’s answer was completely laughable.

  “Uh-huh. Sure thing. I’m the one who’s been up all night, and I can still tell you’re lying. Which you suck at, by the way.”

  “I do not!” Except for Jaime, no one else in the family knew he was gay, so really, he was quite an exceptional liar. Which came with its own boatload of guilt, but that was a problem for another time.

  Jaime slurped at his coffee. “Bullshit. But I’m too tired to argue. Take me home. I’m sleeping for at least twenty hours, and then I’ll be ready whenever you want to pick me up.”

  “Pick you up?”

  Another piercing gaze over the coffee lid came his way. “Family dinner tomorrow, remember? Juliet’s first birthday? I feel like I’ve slipped down the rabbit hole. Remember, I’m the one who hasn’t slept, but you’re the one who’s spacing the fuck out.”

  Caleb jammed on his brakes as the light turned red. What the hell was he doing? How was he letting some chance encounter, not even significant enough to call it “ships passing in the night,” screw with his brain like this? It was like he’d never seen a hot, half-naked man before.

  “Just the heat getting to me.” Caleb had completely forgotten about the family dinner, and he was not at all in the mood. Watching his every word, sublimating any hint of flamboyance, effectively neutering himself in front of his family was an exhausting, stressful endeavor. When he was already out of sorts, overheated, and distracted? Unable to go five minutes without bringing the image of 305’s delectable form to mind? Juliet’s birthday was going to be pure fucking hell.

  “Sure. You go with that.” After one last gulp, Jaime set his cup in the cup holder and slouched in his seat, closing his eyes. Almost immediately a little snore slipped out. Jaime had spent a couple years as an Army medic and claimed he’d learned how to catnap there, but Caleb knew better. The guy had always been able to fall asleep quick, and often in the oddest places.

  With a little sigh of relief, Caleb concentrated on driving. He didn’t know why he hadn’t just admitted why he’d been so scattered today. Jaime could at least talk him out of being an idiot. They might be cousins, but they’d been born within weeks of each other and looked enough alike to be brothers. They’d grown up together, and Jaime was his best friend. Having that one person who knew the real him was a much-needed relief valve, especially during family events.

  Then again, best friend or not, Caleb wasn’t in a hurry to admit a pretty face and hot body had gotten to him. He’d never get out of Jaime trying to set him up if he did.

  Putting aside all the graphic sexual situations he wanted to experience with the towel-clad man from 305, he tried to imagine going on a date with him. Envisioned people staring, wondering what 305 was doing with a nobody like Caleb. It wasn’t even practical to imagine such a thing—even less likely than Caleb getting him into bed. What would they have in common? Not a damned thing.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to let a friend set him up. If nothing else, getting laid might get his mind off this sudden, intense fascination with 305. He’d talk it over with Jaime later this week. He just needed to get through dinner tomorrow with his secret remaining buried.

  HEADY, BACON-LACED fumes tickled Raven’s nose, but he resolutely chose a plateful of fresh fruit and some yogurt for breakfast from the buffet. When his income depended on how good he looked when every inch of flesh was exposed for a close-up, he’d been careful of his weight and what he ate. Eating healthy was a habit he wasn’t interested in breaking, even though he’d never again be subjected to the same scrutiny as when he’d been making videos. Despite Jeremy’s cutting words to the contrary the night before, Raven did occasionally indulge in dessert, but he was very choosy about how he’d spend the calories, and some generic cheesecake from a hotel wasn’t going to qualify.

  He grabbed a much-needed cup of coffee and looked around the ballroom. Jeremy hadn’t made an appearance yet, and Raven could only imagine the disaster if he chose a seat with one of Jeremy’s mortal enemies, since breakfast didn’t have any assigned seating. Unfortunately, that left him standing there looking like a fool, hoping to be allowed to sit at the cool kids’ table. He rolled his eyes. This wasn’t even his fucking high school reunion, and it still managed to dredge up unwelcome reminders of a time he’d rather forget.

  After a few moments of hesitation, when he’d just about decided to drop down at the nearest available seat, a dark-headed man a few tables away half stood and waved him over. For a split second, Raven thought he must have been waving at someone else, but then he recognized Mick, his partner in crime from the smokers’ haven.

  Jeremy wouldn’t be please
d to find him chatting with a handsome man, but fuck it. Jeremy wasn’t here, and Jeremy was paying for a platonic companion, not putting a down payment on ownership.

  With a smile, Raven weaved through the table obstacle course and set his plate down beside Mick.

  “Raven, nice to see you. This is my husband, Travis.”

  Raven turned his attention to a sweet-looking man wearing glasses, who almost vibrated with excitement. This was the kind of fan he enjoyed. No presumption that Raven would spread his legs just because, and no veiled innuendo—although there were times when that had been fun.

  “I can’t believe I’m meeting Raven.” Travis grinned at him happily and picked up a postcard from the table. “I didn’t have anything good for your autograph, but a Florida postcard seemed suitable.”

  Without any further ado, Raven signed the postcard to both Travis and Mick, who seemed like such a nice couple. Either of them would be better company than Jeremy.

  “Thank you.” Travis glanced around furtively and blushed. “Mick and I just love your movies. I’m sorry you won’t be making any more.”

  Raven had never minded fueling the fantasies of his viewers. More good sex all around, but he didn’t really want to think about his reasons for retiring.

  “I appreciate that.” His words were kind, but his tone was firm. That topic was closed.

  “Can we get a picture too?”

  Raven got up and crouched between the two of them while Travis took a few selfies with the three of them. Once Travis had a couple to his liking, Raven sat down again.

  “Are you going to the theme parks? We’re signed up to do that. I’ve never been, even though Mick grew up not far from them.” Travis had so much energy, despite being at least fifteen years older than Raven. Then again, Raven could be excused for his apathy, given his past year and present employment.

  Mick’s face was completely devoid of expression, and Raven didn’t blame him. After all, Mick was the one who’d gone to school with Jeremy, and he undoubtedly knew that spending time with Raven would automatically mean spending time with Jeremy.

  “We’re signed up for the beach excursion, I’m afraid.” Probably so Jeremy could show off his better-than-high-school physique. In this case, though, Raven would have voted for the beach too. His hip would not endure the huge amount of walking that going to a theme park demanded, and he didn’t want to have to explain his infirmity to anyone.

  Travis frowned at him. “Aren’t you a little overdressed for the beach?”

  If it weren’t for Travis’s inherent sweetness, he’d think Travis just wanted the chance to drool up close, which, again, was something he’d never really minded. Not before his accident, anyway. He’d not had too many opportunities since his accident to figure out if he could still revel in people’s visual appreciation of him.

  “Me and the sun don’t get on too well.” Raven pulled up a sleeve. “I burn like a vampire, and even industrial-strength sunscreen isn’t nearly as effective as clothing.”

  Mick checked his watch. “Travis, we should get going. We’re scheduled to leave soon, and we still have to apply sunscreen.”

  Travis bounded up and clutched his postcard to his chest. “We’ll see you tonight at the dance, though, right?”

  Over Travis’s shoulder, Raven spied Jeremy frowning as he glanced over. Thank fuck Mick and Travis were leaving, because he didn’t have the patience to talk Jeremy out of being a giant dick. “Yes, I’ll be there tonight.”

  Within moments, Raven’s congenial company had been exchanged for a sour, glowering Jeremy. They sat in silence while Jeremy ate his breakfast, then they headed to the buses designated for the beach excursion.

  FOR THE third time that evening, Raven broke away from the high school reunion dance to hide in the designated smoking area for the resort. Between the unrelenting sun and the heat wave Florida was experiencing, he’d left the beach feeling nauseated and headachy. Under normal circumstances, he would have stayed in his room, resting and rehydrating, but he didn’t have that luxury. Fortunately, Jeremy had been obliged to take a number of work-related calls during the excursion, which meant Raven was able to socialize with more of Jeremy’s peers, including Amanda, the drama major from Friday night’s dinner. After they returned to the resort, Raven was shaky enough that Amanda insisted on accompanying him to his room while Jeremy huffed off to make some more work calls.

  A nap in his blessedly cool room improved things tremendously. Tonight, Raven wore one of his plain black kilts, and Jeremy was even more handsy than last night. Between that and his lingering headache, Raven needed more frequent “smokes.”

  This time, there was only one other person in his haven, a security guard. And Raven had faked so many smoke breaks over the past couple of days, he was fresh out of cigarettes.

  “Hey, man, can I bum a smoke?”

  The security guard eyed him up and down. “No room in your pouch?”

  Raven was almost certain the guy was trying to make a joke, not some sexual innuendo, so he smiled and shrugged. The guard handed over a cigarette and flicked on a lighter. Suppressing his grimace, Raven sucked enough smoke into his mouth to fire up the glowing end, then huffed it out before inhaling.

  He wasn’t sure why anyone bothered smoking. Aside from making his hair and clothes stink, they tasted absolutely filthy. Not quite as bad as a joint, but at least a joint had the happy side effect of getting high.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem.” The guard sucked in another long drag, the cigarette burned down to almost nothing.

  If Raven had actually smoked all the cigarettes he’d lit since the beginning of this reunion, he’d have nicotine poisoning.

  The guard stubbed out his cigarette, nodded at him, and left, leaving Raven to the solitude of the smoking area. He needed this time to himself or he was going to have a crazy, queeny, bitchfest meltdown that would screw him out of his much-needed payment. There was no way he could live with himself if he’d gone through the past two days as Jeremy’s companion with no hope of compensation. He just wasn’t that charitable a person.

  But there was only so long he could legitimately pretend to be on a smoke break, and all too soon he stubbed out his cigarette.

  RAVEN STEPPED back into the ballroom and headed straight to the bar. The dancing continued full throttle, the DJ playing music his mom had listened to while he was growing up: eighties alternative and early nineties grunge. Some of it Raven liked, and he’d danced with a couple of people he’d met, including Travis and Mick. But then Jeremy would find him again, sucking all the fun out of it.

  With his drink in hand, he moved to the side of the bar and leaned against the wall, in no hurry to seek out Jeremy. After his brush with heat stroke, alcohol wasn’t a good idea, but he could always claim there was rum in his cola.

  “Hey there. Are you doing okay?” Amanda approached with a hesitant smile, a full glass of wine in her hand.

  This time it wasn’t as difficult to smile. “Doing better, thanks. Are you enjoying yourself?”

  They chatted for a few moments before a scowling Jeremy pushed his way through the dancing throng.

  “Uh-oh. That looks like my cue.”

  “You could do so much better than Jeremy. You should think about it, before anyone’s emotions are involved. I’ll see you later.” Amanda lifted her wineglass in a silent toast before sliding away. There went yet another person Raven would much rather have provided companion services to. He was gratified, though, that Amanda was insightful enough to realize that nobody was in love with anyone in this scenario, because damn.

  “Where the hell have you been? You’re supposed to be my date.” Jeremy glared at Raven. His client’s bourbon-scented breath was bringing him down.

  “And I apologize for my absence. But you were also supposed to keep your hands off, and that hasn’t happened at all.” Raven had lost count of the number of times Jeremy had put a hand up his kilt. At the beach, Raven had been we
aring pants, and Jeremy had been too busy to harass Raven, which had left him free to socialize with the more amiable Panthers and their spouses. Almost like relaxing for real at a beach.

  Only an hour left before the end of the event—not that Raven was counting—and then all that was left was the farewell brunch in the morning. The end of the evening couldn’t come too soon—he’d had far more exposure to the sun than he was used to, and only his industrial-strength sunscreen and long sleeves saved him from a bad burn.

  Jeremy’s surgically perfected lips twisted at Raven calling him on taking liberties.

  Did he really have to stay to the bitter end? No, he didn’t.

  “Actually, Jeremy, I think I’m going to turn in now. I’m not feeling well. I’ll see you for brunch in the morning.” Thank God. If Jeremy made a fuss, Raven would be willing to discount the fee they’d agreed upon. Raven just needed to get back to the solitude of his hotel room. The one he’d extended through Sunday night, for reasons he didn’t want to think about when faced with the boozy haze surrounding Jeremy.

  “So soon? I was hoping we could have another drink.”

  Raven pasted on the smile he’d been wearing since the start of the reunion. It was almost impossible to find his patience after the lengthy day, and he wasn’t lying. He truly didn’t feel well.

  All he wanted to do was have a fucking shower and get some sleep. Trying to make casual, polite conversation with Jeremy was beyond him right now.

  “Oh, please, don’t cut your evening short on my account.”

  “I’ll walk you to your room. It’s the least I can do.”

  Raven held in a grimace and nodded. Jeremy had walked him to his room the previous night as well, the most gentlemanly thing he’d done the entire conference, and it had been uncomfortably awkward, because he sensed Jeremy expected Raven would break down and kiss him.

  But he didn’t need a fucking prince badly enough to audition Jeremy for the role. Hell, he didn’t need a fucking prince at all. He was doing fine on his own.

 

‹ Prev