Bleu Balls

by Tara Lain

  “Uh, actually at the festival the other night.”

  “What? And you didn’t tell me?” He bit his tongue. Screaming definitely on deck.

  “I, uh, wasn’t sure if I was going to say yes.”

  “What the fuck? Why would anyone say no to Micah Brown?”

  Robin swallowed hard.

  “Oh, because of me.”

  “Well, kind of. I mean, we met him together, but he’s really your doctor, and I know you’ve admired him a lot, and I don’t even know why he asked me out at all, but—” He sucked in a noisy gasp. “—he did.”

  “And you said what?”

  “I said I’d let him know.”

  “Right, and—”

  “And nothing.”

  “You haven’t called him or anything?” His mouth hung open like a fish, and he couldn’t get it to close. Who on earth would leave Micah hanging? “You get out that damned phone right now, young man, and call Micah and tell him yes. Not just yes, but hell yes.”

  “I’m driving.”

  “Pull over.”

  “Bobby, we’ll be at the Sawdust soon.”

  “Well, okay.” He crossed his arms tightly—to keep his heart from falling out. “But call as soon as we get there.”

  “Okay.” Silence. Painful. “Uh, I have to stop being his patient if I go out with him. I think he wanted you as a patient more, so that’s why he asked me.”

  “Robin, that’s just plain silly!”

  “I don’t know why else. He clearly likes you better.”

  “But he didn’t ask me, did he?”

  “No.” More silence. “I can tell him no.”

  Bobby sighed elaborately. “Why would you do that?”

  “I don’t want you mad at me.”

  He squeezed his eyes tight shut, then opened them and blinked. “I’m not mad. Well, I am that you’ve kept him waiting so long, but I understand you wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t thinking of me.” Speak carefully. “Yes, I think Micah’s gorgeous.”

  “Not as gorgeous as Paolo.”

  “Really?” He looked at Robin surprised. “Well, arguable, I guess, but we’re talking degrees of perfection, so let’s not split hairs. Anyway, I confess to a little hero-worship crush on him, but who doesn’t love their doctor, right? And I get to go out with Paolo, so I guess one for each is just fine.” He looked at his brother and smiled as big and as sincerely as he could muster. Just hope he believes it.

  “You’re sure?” He glanced over, then turned into the parking lot of the Sawdust Festival and stopped the car.

  “Absolutely. But call him right now, while I’m watching.”

  “I said I’d text.”

  “Then text right now.”

  Robin made a face. “I’m shy.”

  “Bullshit.” He frowned. “Unless you don’t really want to go out with him?” Jesus, don’t even admit to yourself how much you love that idea.

  “No, no, I do. I really do.”

  Of course. Robin wasn’t stupid. “Then text now. Why haven’t you texted before now? What’s your excuse? Make it good.”

  “I was scared to tell you.” He stared in his lap.

  “Oh, Robin McMillan, you’ve never been scared in your life. And I don’t mean the truth, I mean, what are you telling Micah.”

  “Oh, I guess I was clearing my schedule.”

  “All right. Text. ‘Hi, Micah.’” Robin texted as Bobby dictated. “Sorry I took so long. Truly anxious to see you. Had to clear my schedule. When would you like to get together?”

  Robin’s thumbs flew over the phone keys.

  “Love and kisses, Robin.”

  “What?”

  Bobby snorted. “Just kidding. Now send it.”

  Robin’s chest expanded, and his thumb pressed down on the key. “Okay, done.”

  “Good.”

  “So when are you going out with Paolo?”

  “Friday.”

  “That’s great. That’s really great.”

  “He called me beautiful.”

  “Even better. So what time shall I pick you up?”

  “I’ll stay at the Sawdust for the top sales hours, then walk across to the festival for when people start arriving for the pageant. So come get me about seven or eight.”

  “Long day.”

  Bobby grinned. “Yes, but it was worth it.” He opened the car door. “Paint good. The mural’s looking fantastic. Hope you like my additions.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  “Byeeeeee.” He did a little jazz hands, then walked to the Sawdust entrance. Funny how life worked. Who’d have thought that he’d get Paolo and Robin got Micah? Well, got might be a serious overstatement. They hadn’t even had a date yet. But still, as karma went, it all seemed fair. He just had to convince his cock and his heart of that.

  ROBIN WATCHED him go. Just what he’d thought. Bobby does have a thing for Micah Brown. I could exit the field and let him have both of them, but how the hell would that work? Robin had made a huge deal out of Paolo not having a boyfriend if he wanted to go out with him—uh, Bobby. So what? Bobby turns around and starts dating a serious contender like Micah? Behind Paolo’s back? That wasn’t fair. Besides, Micah didn’t ask Bobby. He asked me.

  The ding of his phone made him look down.

  I’m so happy. How about Friday night?

  Chapter Fourteen

  “TAKE THE next left.”

  Paolo followed the GPS directions off the Pacific Coast Highway and headed up the hill. His stomach broadcast his feelings like a radio station—half butterfly excitement over getting to see a man who actually stimulated him, and half uncertainty. The latter sprang from their last meeting. Yes, he knew Bobby McMillan was a flamboyant queen, but in most of their meetings, he’d had this hidden edge of—what? Seriousness? Darkness? Suddenly that was gone and Bobby was all sunshine and rainbows and hypercharm. Not that he didn’t like that. He did. But that little suggestion of hidden depths had challenged and stimulated him. Maybe when Bobby felt sure of him, he’d let go of that edge.

  “Your destination is ahead on the right.”

  Oh well, what the fuck? He liked the guy. They weren’t headed to their wedding. It was just dinner. Yeah, a dinner he’d compromised one of his best professional relationships for.

  Ahead he saw a three-story apartment building—the kind often embedded in the residential areas of Laguna. Not the more “planned” areas, like where he lived, but in the older, more eclectic neighborhoods. A couple of visitor parking spaces were designated out front, and he pulled the Tesla into one of them. With the silent car shut off, he stared up at the building. Would the other one be there? Robin? Paolo’s lips pressed flat—then curved slightly. That dude had carved him a new anal orifice. One, he had to confess, he heartily deserved. Still, they were like oil and water.

  He climbed out of the car, checked his text for the apartment number, walked into the small lobby, and climbed the stairs. On the second floor, he stopped. Just one unit per floor. He stepped up to the door and pressed the buzzer. The door flew open. Bobby stood there dressed in tight black slacks and a brilliant pink jersey that fit his slim torso like snakeskin. Well, yes, that did rev up his cock. Paolo smiled. “Hi.”

  Bobby fluttered a hand. “Hi. I’m running just a tiny bit late. Come in and I’ll give you a drinkypoo.”

  “Oh, okay.” He walked inside. The large open living space was just as wildly amazing as he might have expected from the twins—a huge black leather sectional provided seating and everything else veered into the eclectic, artistic, and unexpected. There were large abstract painting on the walls, cushions on the floor in all kinds of designs that looked half Moroccan and half modern art, and wild chairs that seemed to be assembled from wooden puzzles. Two mobiles hung from the ceiling, one in tinkling glass and the other appearing to be made up of plastic reproductions of men’s sex organs. Paolo barked a laugh.

  Bobby giggled. “A friend designed it. What can I get you to dr
ink?”

  “Do you have white wine?”

  “Oh yes. I have Pouilly-Fuisse and a good Napa chardonnay. I guess that means I have chardonnay and chardonnay?”

  Paolo smiled. “I’ll have—”

  “Let me guess. Chardonnay?”

  He laughed. He is cute. “I’ll try the Pouilly-Fuisse.”

  “Excellent.” He extracted a bottle from a wine refrigerator built under the kitchen island, uncorked the bottle, and sloshed a bit of white wine into a stemmed glass. “Here you go, dear. Excuse me while I finish my face.”

  “Looks good to me.” He grinned and accepted the glass. That was in fact true. Bobby looked—pretty.

  “You’re a dear to say so, but the lily must be gilded. Be right back.” He glanced over his shoulder. “If you need the little boy’s room, it’s next to the front door.” He waggled his fingers and disappeared behind a door in the right wall of the large open space. An identical door stood in the left wall. Paolo’s eyes riveted to it. Would Robin walk out of there at any minute, all snark and judgment? Some teeny piece of his brain whispered—and talent and gorgeousness.

  Bobby’s minute turned into ten. Paolo reviewed emails on his phone and eventually stopped looking for Robin. If he was there, he knew better than to come out of the room.

  Bobby’s door swung open. “Ta-da!” He’d added a handsome silk sport coat to his slacks and jersey and some eyeliner and mascara to his face. Paolo kind of liked it more before, but still nice.

  He stood. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” Paolo opened the door and held it for Bobby, who swept out like the queen of the universe. When they got to the car, Bobby squealed. “Oh my God, a Tesla. I love them. I’ve always wanted to ride in one. We have a Prius, and I’d just love to go all-electric. You must tell me all about it.”

  “Sure.” He opened the car door and held it—because that’s what you did for the queen.

  MICAH SMILED at Robin as they both sipped their French 75s at the wine bar. They’d met there because Robin said he needed to get out of his apartment. “So your reason for meeting me intrigued me. Why did you have to leave your place? Are they painting it? Termite inspection?”

  Robin laughed and shook his head. “No.” He glanced at Micah. “You know that Bobby and I share an apartment?”

  “I didn’t know it for sure, but I’m not surprised. You seem close.”

  “Yeah. Well, we have this place with”—he made air quotes—“twin master suites, so we both have lots of privacy and personal space. But tonight he had a date with someone who doesn’t like me, and I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable, so I left.”

  Funny how Micah’s whole stomach gave a lurch at that information. He plastered on a smile. “I must confess that’s intriguing.”

  Robin gave him a sidelong glance out of those blue eyes that ought to speak of sunshine and happy days but managed to suggest a bottomless pool that you could fall into and die. “Normally I’d love to stay and torture this dude, but I knew Bobby would hate that, so—” He shrugged.

  Micah sipped the strong taste of the bubbly in his glass. He wasn’t used to champagne in any form, and Robin had suggested the French 75 that had some kind of liqueur in it too. Kind of much for his uneducated tastes. “You and Bobby look so much alike, and yet you seem very different in personality.”

  “Ya think?” He laughed.

  “Why do you think that is?”

  His pale brows drew together so fast Micah might have made it up, then smoothed. “Like Gaga says, we were born that way.”

  “That’s easier to understand in fraternal brothers, but you two share DNA. It feels more like an issue of nurture than nature. Were you raised by different parents? One went with Mom and one with Dad or something?”

  “No.” The word came out a little sharp. His chest rose and fell. “No. From the beginning he was the lovely, charming, sunny one, and I was the one who—” There was that shrug again.

  “Who?”

  “Looked out for him, I guess. Although that’s silly since he’s always done the same for me. Don’t know. It’s like nature flipped a coin, and he got heads and I got tails.”

  Interesting. “Tails get sat on.”

  He looked up; you could drown in those eyes. “They have their compensations.” He half smiled and Micah half shivered.

  Micah took a slug of French 75 and breathed enough sparkles to sneeze. “Sorry. So where would you like to have dinner?” He looked toward the archway to the restaurant in back. “Here?”

  “No. Their bar’s great but the food’s so-so.”

  “Oh, okay. There’s a new place I heard about—”

  “I took the liberty of making a reservation at Rick’s. Holler if you hate it.”

  “Uh, no. I don’t get to eat there much since it’s always so crowded, and I forget to plan ahead and make a reservation.” He laughed. “You know, like you did.”

  “I’m sure a busy doctor has way more to think about than where he’s going to eat on Friday.”

  Funny, that was half charming and half an accusation. Or maybe he was being sensitive. “No, I’m just crappy at planning stuff.”

  Robin snorted, then glanced at his watch. “Actually, we better get going to make the reservation.”

  “Oh, okay.” He pushed away the rest of his drink, and Robin eyed it with a raised eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Micah said, “Uh, did you want to drive?”

  “No, I walked here.”

  “Great. I’m parked in back.” They slid out and exited through the back door. “It’s unusual to see anyone in Orange County who uses their feet as serious transportation.”

  Robin walked to the Lexus. “Both of us do. We leave our car at home a lot of the time.”

  Micah clicked the lock. Uh, should I hold the door? If it had been Bobby, he’d know for sure.

  Robin opened the car and slid in, still talking, apparently not expecting the courtesy. “Since I’ve been working in Irvine, I drive most days and drop Bobby off at the festivals.”

  Micah started the car and pulled out onto Glenneyre. “How’s that big job going for you?”

  “Good.” Micah glanced over in time to see his face soften and eyes sparkle. “It’s an amazing project. This huge wall that commands the entire three-story lobby of a beautiful architectural building. It’s certainly among the most fun I’ve ever had. Painting, that is.”

  Really nice how Robin’s face lit up when he talked about painting. He looked younger. More like Bobby. But he always added that edge that threw you off-balance.

  After only a few lights, Micah made a hard left into the parking structure that served downtown—badly, since it couldn’t begin to accommodate the nighttime crush of traffic in Laguna.

  Robin laughed. “Tell me, punk, do you feel lucky?”

  The Clint Eastwood imitation got a chuckle out of Micah, but his eyes glued to the vehicle in front of him inching around the rectangle of tightly packed cars. Every space filled. As he got close to the end of the first row, sudden taillights blazed from a car parked in one of the last stalls on the right. “Holy shit! I don’t believe it.” He stomped the brake and backed a couple of feet before the car behind him got too close. The car ahead of him had already committed to the left turn, and Micah could see the driver’s frustrated expression at having missed the prime spot.

  It took a few torturous minutes of the car trying to get out in the tight quarters left for it, but finally the space cleared and Micah sailed in. Robin patted Micah’s thigh, which made him jump. “I think you just used up your good karma for the next five years, but, man, that was lucky.”

  Micah flashed his teeth. “Just my secret rabbit’s foot.”

  Robin’s eyes twinkled. “Um, I’ll have to locate that.”

  Before Micah’s cock quite woke up to the implications, Robin was out of the car. “Glad you have a sticker. That parking machine barely works half the time from what I see.”

  Micah followed R
obin into the alley that ran behind the stores and restaurants that faced the Pacific Coast Highway on the other side. Robin ducked into the pass-through, a pretty space with storefronts and a trickling fountain, and came out to the noise of PCH traffic on the other side. Robin moved with such assurance, it was hard to keep up. An image of Bobby clinging to his arm flashed in his mind. Maybe that’s how Bobby would be. I’ll never know.

  Robin used his slim flexibility to slip through the crowd lined up outside Rick’s and made it to the hostess’s desk. Micah stood about five people back until Robin waved a hand his way. Son of a gun. He got in. Micah managed to get through the crowd without knocking anyone off the steps.

  Robin smiled at him as the hostess led them about halfway back the narrow restaurant to a booth. “Sorry. I wanted the patio, but I didn’t call early enough.”

  “Hey, I didn’t make a reservation at all. I’m just happy to get in.” Micah slid onto the bench seat that put him opposite Robin. Man, the guy was pretty. He’d probably hate that description. Bobby was pretty; Robin was handsome—even though they looked exactly alike. He smiled as he poured some water from the carafe.

  “Micah?”

  “What?” That wasn’t Robin’s voice. Micah looked beside the booth. “Well, damn, hi, Paolo. What a surprise. Are you having dinner here?”

  Paolo Lind’s handsome face looked—what? Part amused, part surprised, and maybe a little pissed off? What? “Uh, yes. I’m out on the patio. Just heading for the restroom.” His eyes traveled to Robin, who was oddly staring at his hands.

  “Oh, sorry. Paolo, this is Robin McMillan.”

  “We know each other.” Paolo didn’t smile. “How did you happen to end up at Rick’s tonight?” He glanced at Micah, then back at Robin, who still hadn’t looked up.

  Micah gave a half frown. “Uh, Robin thought ahead and made a reservation. Why?”

  “I was just wondering if Robin knew I’d be here with his brother?”

  “What?” Micah looked back and forth between them. “Did you, Robin?”