“Really?” Danny shifted as much as he could under the chain-link belt across his lap.
“Yeah. It wasn’t something Greenes did.”
“Your thoughts?”
He looked out over the lights of the rides and concessions, and the more distant lights of the city. “It’s fun. It doesn’t seem quite so sketchy in the dark. And well, it’s not every day a man wins a goldfish.”
It was dark and no one could see, so Brad put his hand on the seat next to him, then edged it over until he could twine his fingers with Danny’s. Danny glanced at him but didn’t say anything.
“This is the best part,” Danny said, squeezing his fingers.
“What is?”
“In a couple seconds we’re going to be at the very top of the wheel.”
“You said we’d be able to see the river.”
“Yeah.” Danny paused, then asked, “You know you can trust me, right?”
“Yeah...”
The wheel stopped and they sat at its top point. Danny pointed left to where the moon glinted off the line of water marking the river. “Nobody can see us,” he said.
Brad turned to him. “What—”
Danny’s mouth cut off his question. The kiss was quick and light, and made Brad want longer and harder, but the rocking of the gondola reminded him they were in public. He pulled back, shifted closer to the edge of his seat and rested his hands on the lap-bar. It had been a sweet gesture, romantic. Exactly the kind of thing Danny would do. But it was risky. Sure, no one had seen them. Not this time. Next time they might not be so lucky.
Brad sat there, silently staring at the lights of the surrounding city for the rest of the ride.
* * *
“Danny!”
Dizzy from the trip on the Tilt-o-Whirl, Danny looked over at the shout. Three of his buddies from school gestured at him from the cotton candy trailer. He waved at them. “Hey, guys. What are you doing here?”
“What else would we be doing? It’s not like there’s a lot of options around here in the summer.” Toby, the tallest of the group, a lanky blond wearing a Carleton tank top, bumped fists with him.
“You’re the dumbass who decided to take summer classes. You could have gone back to St. Paul instead,” Danny pointed out.
“Boredom here or dealing with the parents in St. Paul? Easy call.”
Brad edged back until he stood slightly behind and to the right of Danny. “Oh, hey.” He turned to include Brad in the conversation. “Brad, this is Toby, Greg and Allen. They’re friends of mine from Carleton. Guys, this is Brad, my—”
“I work for his father,” Brad interrupted. The words were strangely forceful.
“He’s starting at Carleton in August,” Danny said to try to cover the awkward moment.
“Cool,” Toby said. The others nodded.
Allen pulled out his phone. “We’re all going over to Chapel Hill. Bruce is having a party. We should head over.”
“We’re meeting Jake and a couple of others there at ten.” Toby checked his phone too. “You two should totally come. Bruce won’t care as long as you chip in for the booze.”
Before Danny could reply, Brad said in the same stilted voice, “I’ve got to work. Tomorrow, I mean.”
“Yeah, we’ve got an early start tomorrow,” Danny agreed. “We were about to head out.”
After his friends left, Danny and Brad walked back to the Jeep. Brad settled into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt. “You don’t need to skip the party on account of me. You should go if you want to.”
“I’m good. We do have an early start tomorrow. Unlike Ray, I don’t like to work with power tools with only three hours of sleep and a hangover. We should do something with those guys at some point, though. They’re good guys, and you’ll be able to start school in the fall knowing a few more people.”
He drove the short distance to his house. When he pulled into the driveway, Brad asked, “Come up with me for a minute?”
It had been a weird night. Had Brad decided he wasn’t ready to date after all? “Sure.” He followed Brad up to his apartment. If Brad tried to break up with him, what would he say?
Brad unlocked the door and pulled him inside then shut the door. “I’m—” Danny started to apologize for the awkward date, but for the third time that night, Brad cut him off.
Brad pushed him against the door and covered his mouth in a forceful kiss. The doorknob pressed into his kidney, but Danny didn’t care. He opened for Brad’s insistent tongue. He wrapped his arms around Brad’s neck, lining up their bodies. It was a little bit violent, a little bit crazy and it made his head spin.
“Damn,” he said on a gasp, breaking away to get some much-needed oxygen.
“I’ve been waiting all night to do that.”
“Oh, well, happy to help.” He nipped at Brad’s bottom lip. “Pretty much anytime you want to, I’m game.”
Ten minutes later, Danny pulled back again. “Christ, you’re good at that. But I should go. If I don’t go now, I won’t be able to leave at all.”
“Look at you,” Brad said. “Your hair’s a mess and your shirt’s all wrinkled.”
“That’s because somebody can’t keep their hands out of my hair. Or off my shirt.”
Brad nudged him away from the door so he could open it. “Go. Try and avoid your mother. I think you have a hickey on your neck and she won’t miss the boner you’re sporting.”
“Thanks to you.” He leaned close and whispered, “I’ll be thinking of you when I take care of that little—er, large—problem.” Brad’s darkening eyes and glazed expression almost made up for him having to sneak into his house. “Good night.”
He headed down the stairs. The date hadn’t been a complete disaster. With a couple of exceptions, it had been fun. It would just take him a while to get used to pretending when they were in public. He’d never hidden his feelings like this before, but if he wanted to date Brad, he’d have to learn to play by Brad’s rules until Brad realized all of this wasn’t necessary. It would be hard, but Brad was worth it.
Chapter Twenty-One
THE CLOCK IS TICKING.
A crowd gathered around the outside west wall of the Bay Street house they were working on the following Monday. Brad wove around people until he stood right behind Danny. “What’s that?”
In thick forest-green paint—the color set aside for one of the upstairs bedrooms—the words spread out over several feet. The paint that hadn’t been used to write the message had spilled into a large green pool at the base of the wall. Someone had broken the windows on that side of the house.
“No idea,” Danny said.
Brad moved closer and almost tripped over someone’s foot.
“Watch it!” Ray snapped. He shoved his way through the crowd, stalking to his truck.
“Has your dad seen this yet?” Brad asked.
Danny nodded. “He’s at his truck, calling the cops. I don’t think he’s ever had vandalism at a worksite before. He’s pissed.”
“No doubt.”
“It’s not fresh,” someone said, stepping forward to test the paint. “See, it’s completely dry.”
“Don’t touch it!” someone snapped. “It’s, like, evidence.”
“What, you think the cops are going to check for prints? Stupid kids pulling pranks, that’s all it is.”
Brad gripped the hem of Danny’s T-shirt. “What do you think it means? Some kind of warning?”
“Looks like it. But aimed at who?”
Brad shrugged. “No idea.” He thought about it for a minute. “You don’t think it has anything to do with the missing equipment, do you? Maybe someone is mad at your dad about something?”
“I don’t know. I mean, Papá’s a pretty cool guy. People do
n’t get mad at him. Not this kind of mad. I wonder, though...” Danny looked like something came to him.
Before Brad could ask about it, Mr. Ortega strode to the gathered crowd. “All right, people, let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot to do and standing around isn’t getting it done. The police are sending someone to look at this and take a statement. They may want to talk to some of you. I don’t know how this kind of thing works, but cooperate if they ask for anything.”
The cops came and went over the course of the morning. Brad was a little surprised any work got done at all before lunch. More than once he caught someone staring at the painted wall when they were hauling lumber or equipment in.
“When do you think we’ll be able to paint over it? I mean, does it have to stay like that?” Danny asked as they sat on two upside-down five-gallon buckets and pulled out their lunches.
“I don’t know. They probably aren’t going to catch whoever did this. It’s too bad there weren’t any kind of security cameras or anything up.” Brad pulled out a peanut butter sandwich and folded back the sandwich bag.
“I bet he gets some installed at all of the worksites by the end of the week.” Danny popped the tab on a can of soda while he talked. The drink foamed a bit over the top, and some ran over Danny’s fingers. Brad went to offer him a piece of paper towel to wipe it up with when Danny started licking the mess away, all the while eyeing Brad over the can’s edge.
Brad had to shake his head to clear the images of Danny licking... When blood finally returned to his head, he kicked Danny’s bucket-chair. “You are evil.”
Danny smirked.
“You think this will make your dad add extra security?” Safer, much safer, to talk about work and vandalism than to fantasize about Danny. At least while they were at work. After work meant a whole lot of other fun possibilities.
“He was already planning something. With the missing equipment and all.”
Crazy how fast lust could turn into bitterness. Nausea burned in his gut at the thought of the equipment.
Danny caught the look on Brad’s face. “I don’t think he honestly believes you have anything to do with it. He’s planning on hiring night guards or some kind of security measures. I think he’d have done it sooner, when things first started going missing, if he’d been able to afford it. He says money’s a little tight right now.”
Brad remembered the look from that morning. “Do you think your dad owes money to someone? You think that’s what the message meant?”
“I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like he’d tell me, but I can’t imagine he’d borrow money from anyone who’d react like that.” Danny gestured to the painted wall. “He’d go to the bank or something, right?”
“Don’t ask me,” Brad said. “I don’t know anything about this kind of thing.”
Danny grimaced. “Neither do I. I’m beginning to think there are a lot of things I don’t know anything about that I should.” He took a drink. “Do you think I’m immature?”
The unexpected question startled Brad. “Excuse me?”
“You know. Immature. Spoiled. That night, you called me a child.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Danny waved aside Brad’s protest. “After you said that, it occurred to me I don’t do anything other than go to school. I live with my parents, but I don’t have to pay rent. I don’t buy my own food. Hell, I don’t even do my own laundry. The only things I’m responsible for are my car payments and insurance.”
Brad didn’t know what to say. In some ways, yeah, Danny was a little spoiled. But was it immaturity? He was given a lot from his parents and wasn’t required to do much in return. He took advantage of the opportunities given to him but didn’t take them for granted. There was a difference, right?
“I mean, look at you. Here you are, a year younger than me, and you have to pay your rent, bills, any tuition not covered by your scholarship, car stuff. You’re completely independent. You’re living off of peanut butter sandwiches so you can save money for school, and my paychecks basically pay for gas and goofing off. I still live with my parents, and not just outside of school. I live here year-round.”
“We come from different places, that’s all. I’ve never seen that it bothers your parents at all. In fact, I think they’d be upset if you moved out.”
Tires squealed as a truck wheeled around a corner. Ray’s truck. Danny’s brother came to a screeching halt behind one of the work vehicles. He was too far away for them to hear anything, but it was obvious he was having some kind of argument on his phone. He gestured with the hand not holding the phone, then threw the phone onto the passenger seat and pushed open his door, which he slammed shut as soon as he was out.
“Everything all right?” Danny asked as Ray stalked past.
“Mind your own business,” Ray snapped.
“Somebody needs to get laid,” Danny said under his breath, only loud enough for Brad to hear.
“He needs something, all right,” Brad agreed. “What’s his deal, anyway? Is he always this...”
“Douche-y?” Danny supplied.
“I was going to say something like aggressive, but douche-y works.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with him. Whatever it is, I hope he gets over it. I think even Mamá is ready to strangle him.”
Brad took a swig from a bottle of water. He didn’t want to step on any toes, but something had occurred to him. “You don’t think, maybe, Ray knows something about this? I mean, look at what just happened, and the time he got beat up. Maybe they’re connected?”
Danny’s eyes widened. “I can’t imagine it. He’d have told Papá if he knew anything.”
“Are you sure? Maybe he’s in some kind of trouble.”
“There’s no way. I know Ray. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he’d go to someone, me or Papá, if he was in some kind of trouble.” The words came out fast and Brad wondered if Danny really believed them. He was adamant, but doubt shadowed his eyes.
“Besides,” Danny continued, “if the thefts are connected to the vandalism, it couldn’t be Ray. Maybe, maybe, he’d hide it if he were in some kind of trouble, but he wouldn’t steal, not from anyone and especially not from Papá.”
“Okay.” Brad twisted the top back on his water. “You know him better than I do.” He could keep tabs on Ray for a while, but he didn’t have to say anything to Danny. At least not until he saw something worth mentioning. He wouldn’t risk messing things up between them, not while things were going so well.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen the original movies! They’re, like, the ultimate space opera. The ones with Ewan McGregor don’t compare.” Danny swung open the kitchen door and dragged Brad in after him.
Brad laughed, skipping a bit so when Danny tugged again, he crashed into Danny’s back. “And I never knew you were such a sci-fi geek!” He wrapped his arms around Danny’s slim torso.
“It takes one to know one, Mr. Alternative History.” Danny covered Brad’s arms, keeping him pressed against his back even as he led the way to the living room. It was silly and awkward, and Brad giggled even as he tried to keep from tripping over Danny’s feet.
Danny stopped so suddenly they nearly landed in a heap on the floor. As it was, Brad rammed his face into the back of Danny’s head. “Oof. Jesus, warn a guy.” He pulled his arms free and touched his mashed nose and mouth, checking for blood. It took him a moment to notice the tension in the room.
“Hello, Bradley.”
His blood chilled and he forgot all about his stinging nose. He stepped away from Danny to face his mother, who was sitting on the Ortegas’ sagging sofa. She wore one of her perfectly tailored skirt suits in an icy blue. Her ash-blond hair was expertly styled. She looked like she’d come from one of her charit
y lunches. Mrs. Ortega sat in one of the cushy chairs across the room from his mother. Her face was calm, with a polite half smile and absolutely no warmth in her expression.
“What are you doing here?” He’d never taken such a disrespectful tone with his mother in person. The few phone calls where he’d been less than polite hadn’t been the same. Face-to-face, the habits of childhood had him inwardly cringing with worry.
She arched one thin brow, but other than that she didn’t comment on his rudeness. “I had a meeting in Minneapolis this morning and since you refuse to discuss this over the phone, I was forced to come to this place—” her eyes tracked disdainfully around the lived-in living room, “—to have a conversation with you.”
If she caught the insult in his mother’s voice, nothing showed on Mrs. Ortega’s face. Her fists tightened in her lap, though.
Danny wasn’t quite as composed as his mother. He jerked at the first hint of a dig and opened his mouth to reply.
Brad held out a stalling hand. “Mother, I’m sorry you felt you had to go out of your way to come here and see me, but nobody asked you to. You’re being rude to my landlord.”
His mother pursed her lips, clearly irritated. “I don’t appreciate your attitude. I’ve come a long way to talk to you about August.” She stressed the month, as though Brad couldn’t figure out what she wanted to talk about without the emphasis. “Is there somewhere we can discuss this?”
Brad moved to the chair next to Mrs. Ortega’s. “Here’s good.”
“Somewhere private?” She didn’t raise her voice, but her tone was frigid.
He looked between Mrs. Ortega and Danny, who stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “This is their house. I’m not going to ask them to leave.”
“Brad,” Mrs. Ortega said softly, “we will leave you to—” Her voice cut out as Danny shook his head.
“You’re fine,” Brad told Mrs. Ortega. “We won’t be long.”
Nobody’s Hero Page 17