by D. J. Manly
The one guest Mark told him about, who was staying in the far cabin, turned out to be Adrian White, a prominent writer. They ran into him on their walk, and Mark introduced them. He was a nice-looking man in his young forties with blond hair. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was personable and polite.
"Wow, I'm impressed," Leo said on the way back to the house. "I've read a lot of his books, detective stuff. He writes really good stories. He's not how I pictured him to be."
"What? You thought he'd look like Sherlock Holmes?" Mark thought his little joke was pretty funny.
"No, jerk wad." Leo gave him a shove. "I thought he'd be taller."
They both laughed at that.
"He is pretty good-looking," Mark commented as he put a frozen pizza into the oven. Leo turned on the television. Some crazy movie they both remembered seeing as teenagers was on, and they sat and watched some of it while they waited for the pizza to cook. At the same time they started to talk about some of the people they knew from high school, speculating about how they'd ended up.
Later that evening, Leo called his mother and let her know where he was. She wanted him to come home. "No, Mom. I'm fine. I'm happy here with Mark and I'm going to start painting again." Shit, he hadn't lived at home for almost five years.
She wanted to know if he had any money, if his health was okay. Was he eating? "Mark is going to give me some odd jobs to do, so I'll have some money...so stop worrying. I'll call you soon," he told her and hung up.
Mark was smirking when he got off the phone. "Mommy's boy."
"Oh, shut up. I remember your mother bringing you food from home when we were in college, and doing your laundry!"
Mark threw a cushion at him.
Leo threw it back.
"Pillow fight!" Mark screamed and they began to hammer each other with every cushion they could find. Finally Leo grabbed Mark and took him down on the sofa. They wrestled, trying to give each other Indian sunburns, laughing like two kids.
"Am I interrupting something?" a deep male voice drifted across the room suddenly.
Leo and Mark's horseplay came to an abrupt end. Leo scrambled to pull down his shirt, his eyes wide as he looked at the tall man who stood in the entrance, a black duffle bag in his hand.
"Reed!" Mark said.
Leo looked at Mark, whose jaw had fallen open, then back at the man who stood in the room. If someone had asked him for one word to describe Reed Owens, the one word that would have come out of his mouth at that moment would have been riveting. Why? Because even if the ceiling caved in at that moment, he couldn't have dragged his gaze away from the man. Not if his life depended on it.
"Reed?" Mark repeated, getting to his feet. "I didn't expect you."
Reed was at least six foot two, maybe even taller, and as he strode forward, Leo noticed the square shoulders, and the bulging definition in his biceps that were partially covered by the short sleeves of his sage colored T-shirt. He wore jeans, faded, tight enough to be modest and yet they fit his slim hips and flat stomach almost indecently, but only because he had the kind of body that got noticed.
"Should I have called?" he asked with a wry smile, glancing at Leo, his eyebrow slightly raised.
His hair was jet black and touched his shoulders like a whisper, little waves on the bottom, full on top, unruly even, falling forward on his forehead, playing up almost sinfully beautiful light blue eyes. His eyes had a hint of silver, large and expressive; and they were focused right on him suddenly. "Hello," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Reed Owens."
Square jaw, full mouth, a strong, tanned outstretched hand with long fingers, and immaculate nails, cut square and neat. He raised his eyebrow higher when Leo didn't move, withdrawing his hand and rubbing his slightly rough shaven jaw with it. He seemed slightly embarrassed.
Leo suddenly snapped to reality. He righted himself on the sofa and jumped to his feet.
"This is my best friend, Leo," Mark was saying. "You know the one I told you about from college?"
Reed tilted his head "Yes, I remember."
"I...I'm sorry." Leo laughed a little uncomfortably. "You took us by surprise."
Reed didn't extend his hand again, so Leo didn't offer his. "You can get back to it. I really need to clean up and get some sleep. I'm beat." He turned and picked up the bag he'd dropped on the floor.
Leo's eyes moved over his back to his ass. It was a natural inclination, but he felt guilty about it when he found himself tracing the roundness of his buttocks in those jeans.
Mark hit him when Reed disappeared. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Leo looked at Mark. "I...I thought you said he wasn't coming back anytime soon."
"Lower your voice. I can't predict these things. Maybe he won't stay long." Mark's eyes moved to the ceiling as the shower came on.
Leo saw him run his tongue over his lips. "You want to go upstairs, don't you?"
Mark shrugged. "It's time for bed anyway." He checked his watch and headed out of the living room.
Leo threw up his hands. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he said and disappeared up the stairs.
Damn it. Leo sank onto the sofa. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. He was enjoying being here with Mark. It felt natural, safe. And now, he was back. Maybe Reed wouldn't want him here. And maybe it would be uncomfortable with Mark fawning all over that...that insensitive prick.
Leo fell back on the sofa. He'd seen a picture of Reed once. Leo had sent him one of the two of them together. It hadn't been a very good picture. It was taken outside and was out of focus. The picture had never done Reed justice. Reed Owens was a heartbreaker, and now that he'd seen him in person, it was easy to understand why. He was born that way, one gorgeous son of a bitch. And the light in those eyes told Leo that he was no one's fool. Men who looked like that were nothing but trouble, and he hoped Mark didn't fall into bed with him tonight. But given the way he'd hightailed it upstairs, Leo didn't hold out much hope for his resistance.
* * * *
Leo woke to hear voices coming from above him. He realized that he'd fallen asleep on the sofa. He recognized one of the voices immediately. Mark. His voice was the loudest, plaintive, and clearly upset. The other voice belonged to Reed, of course, deeper in tone, calm in comparison. It seemed almost consoling. Bastard. Consoling was often just another word for condescending, like when Pierre had tried to take Leo in his arms after he'd confronted him about being married. Leo, Leo, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you...to make you cry to... Yeah right.
Leo stood. He glanced at the ceiling, checked the clock on the wall. It was eight in the morning. Suddenly he heard footsteps banging down the stairs. The front door opened and slammed shut.
Leo walked to the hallway. He heard footsteps at the top of the stairs. Expecting to see Mark coming down them, he called up, "Why in the hell do you let him do that to you, Mark? What did he do to you this time, the son of..." The words died in his throat as he saw Reed.
"Why did you let him do what?" There was no expression on his face. It was all in his eyes as he looked directly at Leo.
Leo balked. "Ah, oh, I thought..."
"You thought what exactly?" He came down the rest of the way, tucking his T-shirt into his jeans. He stopped in front of Leo and met his gaze. He was inches away, still waiting for an answer.
Leo took an awkward step backward. "Sorry, I thought you were Mark."
"Mark," he stressed, as he detoured around him, "just made a dramatic exit a few minutes ago."
Leo cleared his throat, thankful that Reed hadn't pursued the subject. "Thanks," he muttered and went out the front door, scanning the surroundings for his friend.
He spotted some movement down by the water and made his way toward the lake. "Mark!" he called.
Mark turned and lifted a hand to him in greeting.
Leo continued his trek down to the water. "Hey," he said when he was close enough to see his face.
Mark gave him a faint smile. "Sleep oka
y?"
"You?"
He shrugged and turned away. He picked up a stone and skipped it across the water.
Leo came up next to him, picked up another and did the same. "Remember when we used to do this in the summers at your uncle's cottage?"
"Yeah. I was always better at it."
Leo nudged him and laughed. "You were a show-off."
"That girl, Heidi...or..."
"Hattie. She had the biggest crush on you."
"If I'd been straight, I'd of married her and had ten kids by now."
Leo made a face. "Ten?"
Mark picked up another stone. "Maybe not ten."
"You want me to leave?"
Mark turned around and dropped the stone. "No, hell, why would you think that? I have stuff for you to do."
"Because Reed is here and..."
"Fuck him."
"You were fighting this morning. I heard you."
"We weren't fighting," he denied. "We were having a discussion."
"You were upset."
"He is so...fucking..." He stopped. "He can be stubborn."
"Where did he sleep last night?"
Mark turned and began walking back to the house. Leo followed. "Mark, where did Reed..."
"In the other room." He grunted, looking at him. "Happy?"
"No, I'm not happy. Why would I be happy when you're so miserable?"
They stopped at the stairs. The slight breeze in the air blew Mark's hair back from his face. "Because you think I shouldn't care about him anymore, that he..."
"He makes you miserable. He doesn't even sleep with you. He's punishing you, using his body to..." He stopped talking as the front door opened.
"Leo, there's someone on the phone for you, long distance."
"Long distance?" he echoed, climbing the stairs. He looked at Reed. "Woman or man?"
"A woman. It's your mother." He gave him a wry grin and handed him the mobile.
Leo felt himself go red. What was it about this guy that he had the ability to make people feel like idiots? He walked into the house with the phone and Reed walked out. Leo glanced over his shoulder. Is that the way it was going to be--he came in one door and Reed went out the other? Maybe Reed sensed he didn't like him.
"Hi, Mom, what is it? We just spoke yesterday."
"I'm sorry, dear. I'm worried about you," she said. "I think you should come home instead of staying with some strange men in the--well, out in the middle of nowhere."
He laughed. "Mom, Mark is hardly a strange man. You've known him for years."
"Who was that man who answered the phone?"
"Now he might qualify I suppose." Leo laughed. "Anyway, I'm fine. Stop worrying."
"Your sister misses you, and your father, too, even though... Well, you know him. He doesn't say much."
Leo didn't comment on his father. Things had never been easy between them.
"He says you can come home if you...you know, tone things down a little."
"Tone things down a little?" He gripped the phone. "Oh, pretend I'm straight."
"Not that, Leo, stop. He knows about...well...the way you are. He just doesn't want to hear about it, that's all."
"The way I am." He laughed. "What way is that, Mom?"
"Anyway, we don't need to go into all that. You're our son and we love you. And you can come home anytime."
"As long as I, ah...tone it down. Well, no thanks. I love you, Mom. I'll call soon." He hung up. He was shaking, everything he wanted to say held deep inside.
"She doesn't understand," a voice said. "It doesn't mean she doesn't love you."
Leo looked up in surprise to see Reed standing in the living room, a few feet away. The words came out of his mouth before he even thought about them. "You don't know what you're talking about. And what in hell were you doing listening to my private conversation?"
Reed's expression didn't change. He lifted his broad shoulders rather casually. "I shouldn't have said anything. It is none of my business, and as for listening to your conversation, given that you were hollering into the phone, it was hard to miss when I walked in the door. I thought maybe you'd be upset, and my words would comfort you. I was out of line." He turned to leave the room.
Leo hadn't been expecting an apology. He felt stupid and embarrassed. "You have the knack of making people feel like idiots, don't you, Mr. Owens?" he muttered. Shit. Why don't I just apologize instead?
Reed paused at the door. He didn't turn around. "You give me too much credit, Leo. I don't have any magic ability to make people feel anything. I think you're quite capable of experiencing what you feel all on your own."
Leo found himself standing there, phone still in his hand, in an empty room, Reed's words ringing in his head. You smug son of a bitch. He took a breath.
"What's wrong with you?" Mark asked as he walked in suddenly.
"Nothing," he snapped.
"You look like you'd like to kill somebody."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
"Who was on the phone?" Mark asked him, reaching for it and taking it from his hand.
"My mother."
"Again?" Mark replaced the phone on its receiver.
"She thinks you're corrupting me." He smiled, trying to shake off his anger.
Mark laughed. "God, that was done long ago. And I wasn't to blame."
Leo sank into the easy chair. "She says I can come home as long as I pretend to be straight. I have no intention of going home. I'm twenty-five years old. But even if I wanted to, I...damn it, Mark, she doesn't even know me. And my father...God..."
Mark came over and stroked his hair. "It never bothered you before. Why now? Is it because of what happened with that French man?"
"I know I told you that I came to terms with it...but damn it, you're so lucky with your parents."
"It wasn't easy in the beginning. Now, they don't care anymore. My mother volunteers with gay teens. Imagine." He laughed. "They do want me to find some nice fellow and settle down though."
Leo stood. "How do you stand him?"
"Who?"
"You know who. He's so damn smug, and arrogant."
"Whoa, what did Reed do?"
"Stop defending him."
"I'm not defending him, but Leo, he's been back less than twenty-four hours and already he's pissed you off. What did he say?"
"It's the way he looks at a person."
"Leo, come on." Mark laughed. "That's not fair. What did he say?"
"Oh, some crap about my mother loving me even if she didn't understand."
"Sounds like he was trying to be nice."
"Nice," Leo hissed. "He was trying to be..." He stopped. Listen to me. What to hell has gotten into me? Stop demonizing him. He's not Pierre. "I was unfair. I said something I shouldn't have and he gave it back to me, twofold." He laughed a little.
Mark eyed him.
"I know how he's treated you, how he's hurt you, and I suppose I can't help but make the comparison with Pierre."
"Leo, I'm not a little boy in need of your protection. Stop it. Be civil to him, and knowing Reed, he'll be civil back. Now, are you ready to do some work today? The shed outside needs painting and I'm sure you're low on cash."
"Is it all right with Reed?"
"I spoke to him about it last night, and he said yes."
"Okay. Do you have some old clothes that I can put on?"
"Yep. I put a big bag of old stuff in your room. You just have to find something in there. And all the paint and brushes are out in the shed. You won't need primer because we're going to paint it the same color, so it just needs a going over. You may need to scrape a bit. The paint has peeled in places, especially where the sun hits."
"Yes, Captain." Leo saluted.
Mark grabbed him and hugged him for a second. "You'll always have me. I love you, crazy boy."
Leo hugged him back. "I know. And I'm sorry for being so protective of you. It's just that you can do so much better than him." He made a face. "There's someone out there wh
o will love you and treat you right and--"
"Well, never mind that now." He clicked his tongue. "Let me make you some breakfast and then you get to work, slave."
Leo clicked his heels. "Jawohl mein kommandant."
They ate delicious cheese omelets and brown toast, drank almost a pot of coffee between them, and chatted about all the renovations Mark had planned for the place. A half hour later, Mark stood and announced to Leo that he'd take care of the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. "Get ready and go to work. I'll bring out some ice tea later."
Mark laughed as Leo made a show of marching out of the room like a soldier. He stopped as he walked up the steps, a grin on his face. It was wonderful how Mark could put him in a good mood. He couldn't help thinking that somehow they probably belonged together, but someone had stood in the way of that possibility a few years back.
As he got to the top of the stairs, a door opened at the end of the hallway, the door that seemed to always be locked.
And there stood the man who had possibly altered his future. Reed walked out wearing nothing but a pair of short nylon shorts and cross trainers. His hair was plastered against his head, and his tanned, hard body shone with sweat. He was wiping his face with a towel and didn't notice Leo standing there, frozen to the spot. Leo's tongue snaked out and unconsciously licked his lips as he allowed himself to revel in the fluid hills and valleys of Reed's incredible body. He could practically forgive Mark's obsession at this moment. He had perfect pectorals, flat abs, and biceps that bulged just enough. His thighs were well muscled and so were his calves. And an extremely interesting bulge rested in those nylon shorts, generous to say the least.
The towel hung from his hand now as he lowered it from his face, and Leo realized he was looking right at him. "Did you want something?"
Leo bit his lower lip. He shook his head. "I...I came to get some... It's okay," he said, and ducked quickly into his room, which, mercifully, was close. When he got inside, he sighed with relief, closed the door and leaned on it. This is fucking ridiculous. What in the hell has gotten into me? His cock was hard. He couldn't believe it. Seeing Reed standing there half naked had given him a hard on. I don't even like the guy.
When the knock came on the door, he stiffened. Oh, God. "Yeah? I'm, ah, getting dressed."