Watching as she crossed to the sink and rinsed her cup, he shook his head. “Molly…”
“This explains so much, Devil! I mean, really, what straight, Southern man prefers Earl Grey tea to black coffee?” she asked thoughtfully as she stared out the kitchen window.
“My grandfather drank that tea. They were immigrants. I grew up on it,” he retorted, trying to justify his choice. Why in the world was he discussing tea when she had just accused him of playing for the other team?
“And your clothes!” Molly continued, unaware of the rapidly deteriorating mental condition of the man standing behind her. “Gay men really do dress well. I should have seen that in you. You’re never without a suit, and it always has to be the best,” she murmured to herself. “No J.C. Penney specials for you. Armani and Hugo Boss are the only ticket for today’s homosexual man. Sami told me that once awhile back, but now I know it’s true.”
“I’m a businessman! Suits are like my uniform,” he yelped, running a hand across his now-sweaty brow as he stared at her back in horror. “And I’m rich! Of course, I use designer labels.” He could feel himself losing traction as she turned and looked at him, propping her hands on her hips.
“Then there’s that fastidious attention you pay to your appearance. For God’s sake! You have a massage once a week, and then there’s that mani-pedi that you had me schedule…”
“I’ve got a bad back,” he almost whimpered, rapidly recognizing that he was fighting a losing battle here. Holy God, the woman was convinced his boat floated in another damn ocean! “You play rugby on a college team for four years and see if you don’t need a rubdown every once in a while. And for your information, that mani-pedi was a gift from a client. I couldn’t very well say no to it. I did it once.” Shaking his head, he heard the desperation edging his voice and fought to control his rising panic. “I’m not gay!”
“Devil,” Molly replied, drying her hands on a dishtowel and tossing it back to the sink, “There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of here. I understand completely why you’ve remained in the closet, but even a walk-in is going to feel small after a while.”
“I’m not in the closet!” he yelled as the vein in his temple began to throb. Christ, was this a stroke? Wasn’t he supposed to smell bacon or toast or something? He never should have postponed that last physical.
“Of course you’re not. Not anymore,” Molly said sweetly, patting his arm sympathetically. “You just came out to me.”
“No, I didn’t!”
“Listen, I understand you wanting to keep up your reputation. Nana was born in a different world, and you’re right. I don’t think she’d understand your life choices. People her age often don’t understand that folks don’t get a choice about their sexuality. But after she passes, you should really consider taking a stand, sweetie. You just stand up to all those competitors of yours and tell them the truth! You’re here, and you’re queer!”
Devil’s throat worked, but no words came out. Dear God, maybe this really was a stroke. Wasn’t speech the first thing to go?
“You’ll be an example to all the young men in Atlanta that a man can be successful and gay at any age. It’s never too late to come out of the closet!”
Devil shook his head furiously, gripping the back of a chair to steady himself. “Nonononononono!”
“Now, don’t panic, sweetie,” Molly soothed quickly, quickly hurrying to his side. “Given the circumstances, I’ll help you.”
“What?” Devil asked blankly. He could hear the words, but he wasn’t certain he comprehended anything any longer.
“The wedding, Dev. I’ll do it. I’m just so relieved. Last night, when we were intimate, I was a little worried about Little Devil, you know,” she said with a knowing look at his crotch.
“Pardon me?” he choked, barely able to form coherent words.
“Well, honey, it didn’t seem very big at all. Now, I know why,” she declared brightly, with a beaming smile.
Devil nearly swallowed his tongue. Not very big at all! “My equipment was plenty big! We had two layers of clothing between us,” he blustered as his heart pounded in his chest. Now, she insulted his cock? Was there no END to this indignity?
“Uh huh,” Molly agreed solemnly, her tone fully supportive. “I’m positive that what you have is plenty adequate to fulfill your partner’s needs, Devil.”
“My partner?” he almost shrieked as he gripped the chair for support. “I don’t have a partner, Molly! I’m going to have a wife, and what I’ve got goin’ on downstairs is more than enough to satisfy…”
“Dev, I don’t think it’s politically correct to call your significant other your wife.” Molly frowned as she pressed a finger to her lips. Shaking her head, she continued, “I feel certain that all the homosexuals I know refer to their other half as a partner. I mean, I suppose lesbians could get away with wife, but men should really stick with partner. Or spouse. Spouse works, too. It doesn’t signify one half as the feminine component. Unless you’re into butch/fem, and if you are, I’m perfectly okay with that, too,” she added with another brilliant smile at him.
“When the hell did you become an aficionado of gay lingo?” he roared. Jesus, she had him ready to rip out his hair and run screaming from the condo.
“Well, I think some things are just common sense, Devil.” Molly shrugged. “At any rate, I’m sure what you possess in that area,” she said, waving a hand again toward his groin, “is more than enough to keep your boyfriend satisfied.”
She was trying to kill him. She had to be. Had she taken out a life insurance policy on him that he knew nothing about? She had been his assistant for over a year, after all, and was probably quite proficient at forging his signature by now.
“I…I…I…,” he stuttered, unable to get a coherent sentence past his lips.
“I think you should go to the hospital and visit Nana,” Molly suggested with a patient look. “We can discuss all the pesky details later, okay? I’ll swing by your house tonight. Say sevenish? I have to meet the girls at noon for our weekly lunch. If I don’t show up, they’ll send out the National Guard,” she explained, giving him a gentle shove toward her front door.
“But, Molly…”
“Now, I don’t want you to worry about a thing. You just go tell Nana that she’s going to get her wedding, and we’ll figure out a way to make your boyfriend understand everything.” Urging him through her living room, she patted his back in a reassuring matter. “You’ll see,” she informed him serenely, “Everything is just gonna work out fine.”
On that final note, Molly pushed Devil out of her condo and closed the front door in his face.
Looking around at his seemingly normal surroundings as he stood on her small front porch, he shook his head in confusion. The sun was still shining. The birds were still singing. For him, however, the world felt like it was suddenly moving in incredibly slow motion.
“What the fuck just happened?” he asked aloud as he stared at the closed door in dismay.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“So, you see, it’s gonna be okay,” Molly Ramsey excitedly informed her two best friends an hour later in the crowded Buckhead bistro where they’d met for lunch. “He’s gay, guys! I can marry a gay guy. Especially when I know it will give a woman that I’ve thought of as another grandmother all my life some kind of peace in her last days on Earth.”
Exchanging a look of incredulity with Sami before focusing on Molly, Vivian Miller slowly dropped her fork back to her plate. “Molly, gay men don’t have steamy make out sessions on the couch with women, sweetie.”
Grimacing for a second, Molly’s mind worked to find a logical response for Viv’s statement. “Maybe he was making a last ditch attempt at being straight. I don’t think Devil’s real comfortable with his sexuality. I mean, he’s been hiding behind all these women for years, y’all.”
“Gay men do not get hard for women, chica,” Sami retorted with a smirk. “From what you’ve said, the Dev
il rose to the occasion.”
Shaking her head, Molly sniffed delicately. “He did, but I really expected it to be… bigger, you know?”
“You did say that you were both still wearing your clothes. Those tend to dull sensation,” Vivian pointed out reasonably.
“That’s what he said,” Molly replied with a frown. “He got all put out with me this morning for suggesting that he wasn’t exactly flying his flag at full mast last night. I was trying to make him feel better about it, but he just got growly with me.”
“Straight men’ll do that when you diss the package,” Sami mused with a smirk, popping a cherry tomato from her salad between her lips.
“A man’s ego is a fragile thing, darlin’,” Vivian added with a sympathetic smile.
“Maybe,” Molly allowed with a small shake of her head. “But, I told him that I was sure his boyfriend appreciated everything he had. I wasn’t trying to insult him.”
“Honey, that would only smooth ruffled feathers if he actually had a boyfriend,” Vivian tried to explain, flashing a smile at their passing waiter and shaking her head when he gestured toward their drinks. “We’re fine,” she murmured with a dismissive hand.
Waiting until the man was safely away from their table, Molly toyed with her sweaty glass of sweet tea. “What are y’all saying exactly?” she asked her two best friends in the world.
Vivian shot Sami a beseeching look before staring down at her half eaten salad. “Samantha,” she murmured without looking at Molly. “Why don’t you take this one?”
Choking on her martini, Sami shot Vivian an evil look. “Why me?” she snapped irritably. “Why do I always have to be the one to break bad news?”
“You’re the one at the table that’s had the most experience with gay men,” Vivian rationalized, picking at her club sandwich halfheartedly as she avoided Molly’s gaze.
“That’s true,” Sami mumbled before draining her glass and focusing her attention on Molly. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Mols, but that man of yours… He’s not gay. At all. In any way.”
“Not even a little bit?” Molly whimpered. She could tell both the women looking at her felt bad for having to burst her bubble. She also trusted their collective judgment. If they were convinced that Devil wasn’t a homosexual, then that meant…
“Listen, sweets, I’ve worked with gay men. Half the fashion industry is homosexual. And if that wasn’t enough, I’ve lived with a gay roommate. I’ve witnessed firsthand the mating practices. Take it from someone that has actively filled the role of the ‘beard’ before, you’re not dealing with an alternate lifestyle here.” Sami stared across the table at her best friend. “Based on my experience, I think I’m qualified to tell you that Devil Delancy is one hundred percent a horny, heterosexual hunk. Albeit one with a questionably small penis,” she amended with a tiny smile.
“That could have been stage fright,” Vivian assured Molly with a supportive smile. “Or the clothes. Could have been the clothes. Some of those slacks he wears are entirely too baggy,” she mused.
“Or he could just have a wee willy winkie,” Sami said regretfully.
“I’m going to kill him,” Molly declared, staring into space as she accepted the inevitable truth. Devil Delancy was not only a horndog.
He was a liar, too.
Covering one of Molly’s hands, Vivian squeezed. “I’ll bring the duct tape, honey.”
Lifting her martini, Sami toasted the two women. “And I’ve got the shovel! With the right alibi, we’re good to go.”
Looking between the two women, united in their solidarity to have her back, Molly smiled. At least, she’d never have to carry a body alone.
~~***~~
A few miles away, Devil Delancy weaved his way through the tables of the packed sports bar where he’d chosen to meet his best friend for lunch. Damn it, how could he have forgotten that the Falcons played the Dolphins this weekend? Hell, every sports enthusiast that wasn’t in Miami seemed to have found their way into McGillicuddy’s Sports Bar this afternoon. Spotting Grant at a table near the back, he nodded as the other man waved to him.
“Man, you look like shit,” Grant greeted his buddy as the other man took the stool across from him. “Nice fat lip you’re sporting, too,” he added with a satisfied grin. “I take it that visit to Molly’s didn’t yield the results you’d hoped to get.”
“You are an asshole, and your sister is certifiably insane,” Devil growled, glaring at the other man. Dressed in jeans and a faded tee shirt, the other man was the picture of the relaxed, content family man that he was. He envied the son of a bitch.
“Awww, trouble in paradise already?” Grant asked eagerly, propping his elbow on the scarred table and dropping his chin in his hand. “Do tell,” he invited with an impish gleam in his eyes.
“Where do I start?” Devil groused, his black eyebrows drawing together ominously. “How about the fact that your whack job sibling has decided that I’m gay?!”
Barking out a sharp laugh, Grant reached for his frosty mug of beer. “God, sometimes I freaking love my baby sister!”
“Well, sugar, I don’t see how any woman with her vision could mistake you for anything other than Grade-A Prime Man,” a sultry eyed waitress announced as she halted at her table.
“Thanks,” Devil muttered, barely glancing at the buxom blonde standing beside their table. “I’ll just have whatever’s on tap.”
Twitching his lips at the disappointed moue of the woman’s lips as she scribbled Dev’s order on her pad, Grant cleared his throat and held his half-empty mug up. “I’ll take a refill, too. Thanks.” Watching as the waitress nodded and turned to walk away, he shifted his gaze back to his best friend. “Okay, I think I believe you now,” Grant remarked thoughtfully.
“What?” Devil grunted, glancing across the table at his longtime friend.
“That you might have a thing for my sister.” Shaking his head, he glanced at their shapely waitress where she stood at the bar, filling their order. “That,” he nodded toward the woman, “is one hot piece of tail, and you barely noticed her.”
“No shit,” Devil snapped irritably. “I told you yesterday that I’ve only got eyes for Molly. I might have spent time with a few women over the past year, but I can guarantee you that none of those so-called relationships went past drinks and a meal. Maybe an occasional show. That’s it.”
Raising an eyebrow, Grant schooled his features into a mask of concern. “Is that because of the gender identity crisis you’re having?” he mock-whispered.
“Asshole,” Devil snarled under his breath.
Grant was still laughing when the pretty waitress returned with their drinks. Waiting until she’d moved on to the next table, he looked at Devil again. “Okay, seriously, how the hell did you manage to give Mols the idea that you, of all people, are gay?”
Shaking his head, Devil stared at the ceiling. “I’ve got no fucking clue,” he groaned. “One second, I was trying to explain to her that I wasn’t the horny bastard that she thought I was and that those women I’d seen over the last year were just a distraction, and the next thing I knew, she’d jumped to the fucking conclusion that I was a homosexual! ME, Grant! She thinks I’m GAY!”
Clearing his throat as several patrons turned to look at them, Grant grinned. “Lover’s spat,” he explained nonchalantly to the nearest table. “He’s reluctant to go public with our relationship.”
Devil groaned as the men at the other table quickly averted their eyes and ran a hand down his face. “You’re as much a lunatic as she is.”
“It runs in the family, man. I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” Grant informed him amiably, lifting his beer to his lips.
Toying with the handle of his own mug, Devil shook his head morosely. “What in the hell am I going to do, Grant? She was fucking happy. After she drew her faulty assumption, she was more than willing to marry me.”
“Well, is there any way at all you could learn to love dick?” Grant asked
hopefully.
“You know, I kicked your ass in high school for that smartass attitude you’ve got and broke your nose. Want me to make it your jaw this time? Just to mix it up a little?” Devil questioned curiously, leveling his friend with a severe look.
Clearing his throat, Grant grinned. “I think one of us wearing bruises at a time is quite enough,” he commented, gesturing at Devil’s cheek. “She gave you a hell of a shiner. How’d that happen?”
“I’d rather not discuss that,” Devil murmured, flushing as he recalled Molly’s hurt anger when he’d called a halt to last night’s intimacy between them.
Noting the guilty expression on Dev’s face, Grant leaned toward him, his earlier smile suddenly gone. “What did you do to my sister, Devil?” he asked with a new hardness in his voice.
Averting his gaze, Devil shifted in his seat. He could feel Grant’s condemning gaze burning into him. “We might have gotten a little close last night,” he admitted hoarsely.
“How close?” Grant retorted, tightening his hand around his beer.
“Close enough so that when I stopped, your sister was less than pleased with my unwillingness to cooperate with her. She assumed it was because I was comparing her to the other women I’ve been with in the past year when in reality, it was because I didn’t want to dishonor her by taking something that wasn’t mine to have just yet. Happy now?” he asked his oldest friend impatiently.
“Uh, no!” Grant glared at his buddy. “Keep your hands and every other part of your anatomy to yourself until you make an honest woman of my sister,” he demanded with a low growl. “Or, I swear Devil, I will remove your dick with a butter knife.”
“I’m trying! It was your sister that was an octopus!” Devil retorted defensively.
“Try harder,” Grant ordered simply, clearly apathetic to his friend’s plight.
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