2016 Top Ten Gay Romance

by Snyder, J. M. ; Black, Becky; Creech, T. A.

  “Ass.” Deuce crossed to the bed, dropped the towel from around his waist, and drew on his shorts. “Talk.”

  “Yes, sir. The woman had been working at the Contemporary, like you said, but by the time we got there, she was gone. I kind of got the feeling she may have known we were on the way.”

  “How?” Deuce stepped into the navy trousers and pulled them up his legs. He left the fly undone while he put on a light blue button-down shirt.

  Ace whistled. “You clean up real good, boss.”

  Deuce scowled at him, and then tucked his shirt into his pants and zipped up the fly.

  “Maybe she’s got friends.”

  Like Vincent? Deuce sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled on a pair of socks. “Get my half boots, would you?”

  Ace grinned and tossed them to him. Deuce caught them and placed them on the floor.

  “I’m telling you,” Ace continued, “this woman is like dust in the wind.”

  Deuce ran a hand through his hair. “How did Dr. G. take the news?”

  “How do you expect? She wasn’t happy.” Ace gave him a wry grin. “That’s one of the reasons why we tracked you down. She fired us.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah, you could say that. The thing is, we weren’t looking forward to working for anyone but you, so as soon as she cut us loose, we headed out here.”

  “Wait a second. How were you able to find me? How did you know where I was?”

  “You told Trip.”

  “What are you talking about? I never—”

  “Are you losing it, boss? When you called to let him know where we could find the kid, he asked you where you were going.”

  “Yeah, and I told him it was better he didn’t know.”

  “No, you told him you were going home.”

  Had he? But he’d have sworn…he was certain…Jesus, was Ace right? Was he losing it?

  “Trip’s a smart guy. After Dr. G. fired us, he did a little investigating of his own and tracked down your family to Woody Draw, South Dakota.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Seriously, Deuce? The guy’s in love with you.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Deuce just stared at him. He’d been so careful…

  “Jesus, maybe it’s a good thing you got out of the business. Stan and I would have to be blind not to see you’re in love with him as well.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “We’ve had our suspicions—”

  “How long?” he asked again.

  “We figured for certain after he was shot last year.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you?”

  “Why would it? It’s your business. Anyway, we decided there was no point in hanging around the East Coast, and when Trip said he was heading west, we thought you’d appreciate it if we went along and kept an eye on him.”

  “It really was better that you didn’t know where I was. Mark Vincent might be after me.”

  “Ah. Well, in that case, it’s a good thing you’ll have the three of us watching your back.”

  “What will you do?”

  Fortunately, Ace didn’t act as if he didn’t understand what Deuce meant. “Well, your dad’s offered to teach me and Stan how to be cowboys, and when your sister mentioned you were going to be working the front counter at the diner, Trip volunteered to be her short-order cook.”

  “How the mighty have fallen.”

  “Maybe, but we’ll all live long enough to collect Social Security.”

  “Unless Vincent decides to pay us a call.”

  “We’ll deal with it if and when.” He rested a hand on Deuce’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

  Deuce felt his eyes start to burn. Damn, he had good men. He cleared his throat. “Say, since when has Trip known how to cook?”

  “I’ve been giving him lessons.”

  “Should my sister take out more insurance for her customers?”

  “Not funny, Deuce.” He poked Deuce’s shoulder. “Trip’s a damn good cook. Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long time since lunch, and I’m starved. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “Let me get my boots on, and I’ll go down with you.”

  “No rush.” Ace gave him a grin and a wink, opened the door, and stood aside to let Trip enter. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, boys.” Then he pulled the door shut.

  Deuce stared at Trip, taking in the dark hair and eyes that had filled his thoughts. He cleared his throat. “Butch.”

  “Hi, boss.”

  “I…I never expected to see you here.”

  “I had to come.”

  “You know being in my vicinity could be dangerous.”

  Trip gave him a saucy grin. “I live for danger.”

  “So you’re sure you want to do this?”

  Trip’s grin morphed into a sweet smile. “Yeah. I am. Are we going to live here?”

  “I think it might be better if we lived in town. There’s an apartment over the shed behind the diner, and Kate said I could have it. I don’t think she’d object if you shared it with me.”

  “Cool. Now we can get onto more important things.” Trip raised his hand and ran his fingertips along Deuce’s jaw. “Is this okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good.” Trip stepped closer to Deuce, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and pulled him close.

  Deuce didn’t plan to close his eyes, but the feel of Trip’s mouth on his was something that needed to be savored, and to be savored…He smiled and closed his eyes.

  * * * *

  At some point they wound up on the bed with Trip on top. Deuce liked the feel of Trip’s long, lean body pressing down on his, and the way Trip cradled his head, nuzzled his throat and jaw before returning to his lips.

  Pounding on the door broke their kiss, and they both rolled off the bed and reached for guns they weren’t carrying. They glanced at each other and exchanged sheepish grins.

  “Come on, big brother. Get your butt out here. Dinner’s getting cold.”

  Deuce couldn’t help chuckling in spite of himself. “Are you sure you want to be part of this family, Butch?”

  Trip leaned against him and rubbed his cheek against Deuce’s shoulder. “Yeah. I think I’d like it a lot.”

  “Okay, then.” He raised his voice. “Keep your shirt on, Danny. We’re on our way.” He took time for one last kiss, then opened the door, and they walked out of the room.

  “Hey, big brother.” Danny grinned at him. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  Deuce gave him a shove. “What day would that be?”

  “When you settled down. You’re taking on a tough man, Trip.”

  “I’ve worked with Deuce for a few years. I know what he’s like.” Trip met Deuce’s gaze. “And he’s perfect for me.”

  Something Deuce never thought he’d hear. He winked at his brother, then squeezed Trip’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner.”

  THE END

  And This Is Ed by J.D. Walker

  For all the Eds in the world. I “heart” you.

  I feel invisible, most days. I work in an office so deep in the bowels of my building, it makes that guy from the movie Office Space look like he works in a castle.

  Okay, so yes, I managed the housekeeping staff, and our supplies were housed down there, too, but still. Whenever I attended a head-of-department meeting on the top floor, most of the other managers treated me like the bastard child of a hundred crazies, or whatever. No wonder Freddie Krueger went nuts.

  It was the same at office parties. I would be introduced to a new staff member as, “Oh, and this is Ed.” Then someone would inevitably crack a joke about needing to take out the trash and hand me an empty can. I was rarely amused but I never reacted.

  My job wasn’t glamorous. Fine. I’d like to see them try to do if for eight hours. There were times I thought that I’d get m
y revenge by not having offices cleaned for a day or two, just to see how they liked it. But then my sense of duty would overcome my vindictiveness. Damn it.

  One of my other sins, apparently, was that I didn’t talk much about myself. I flew under the radar at work, and remained calm in the face of the worst insults they could invent. My “peers” assumed that, because I didn’t drive a fancy car or brag about a big screen TV or hot date, that I should be written off as uninteresting. What could I possibly have to offer, or some such nonsense.

  The truth of it? I was a private person, and I didn’t feel the need to spread my personal stuff around to all and sundry. Because of that little quirk, I was labeled a nonentity and boring. Barely tolerated, as though I didn’t have any right being treated as an equal. I was a pretender, in their eyes.

  It wasn’t everyone, really. Mainly the maintenance and security heads and assistants who gave me the most grief. But I could handle their ignorance and childish behavior. I knew who I was, and didn’t need their approval or to be part of their “in” club. Though it would be nice not to have my guard up all the time at work, bracing for a taunt of some kind.

  My mother used to say, “Forget that crap about limes and lemonade. Oranges are much sweeter!” Whether or not I’ll ever fully understand that gem of wisdom, I simply went my own way, did my job well, and sidestepped the idiots whenever I could.

  Thus, when an anomaly in my sphere of existence showed up one day, I was totally unprepared for my world to be turned upside down.

  * * * *

  “I’d like you all to meet Titus Leung, our new facilities director.”

  I’d been sitting in the back row of the conference room, trying to keep my eyes open as the senior property manager—she had a piece of spinach between her teeth to add to her allure—droned on and on in our weekly Tuesday afternoon meeting, when suddenly, I was wide awake.

  The man who stepped up to the front of the room was exceptionally fine. He appeared to be about five-feet-ten inches tall, same as me. He was dressed in a suit, though his jacket was hanging open and he didn’t wear a tie with his snug-fitting white shirt. His gray eyes socked me in the stomach when we briefly stared at each other, but his gaze continued to roam the room, taking everyone’s measure before returning to Barb.

  His hair fell in raven waves around an oval face and sharp chin, a few gray strands peeking out here and there. Cheekbones well-defined, eyes tilted upward at the corners, a walking wet dream. From the looks of it, his body didn’t have an ounce of fat to spare.

  Titus had that annoying, confident smirk that advertised “macho jock” in large block letters. I was sure he would fit right in with all the other wannabe “manly” managers in no time, but if I had to guess, I’d say he wasn’t faking it at all. Hot, confident, successful, studly. He’d probably played some sport or other in high school and college. I was completely blindsided and knew I didn’t have a chance in hell with a guy like that.

  “Titus,” Barb continued, “comes to us from Crescent One, a class ‘A’ building, where he spent five years in a similar position. His experience will come in handy as we gear up to make our building great again!” She actually clapped her hands and hopped. Barb had never done that before. Who was this pod person? Maybe for her, Christmas had come early.

  Regent Place 100 had been built in the seventies. It was a forty-floor building that had once been first class, ahead of the game and spectacular. Of late, it had begun to decline, and the veneer had lost its luster. Barb wanted to change that and bring back the sparkle to Regent. I hoped Titus wouldn’t throttle her before the end of the week.

  After Barb had finally finished her introductions, she ended the meeting with a reminder about the Spring Picnic—an annual event held for the building’s occupants—this weekend. I’d forgotten about it, deliberately. Maybe I could find an excuse to be absent. Maybe one of my staff members would have a family emergency. A death in the family would be perfect!

  Immediately after she left the room, all the other managers, sensing a kindred spirit in the new guy on the block, merged as one to introduce themselves and make them his buddy. They should just hump his leg. It’d be quicker.

  I left them all to their sycophantic behavior and headed back to my “cave” to do some paperwork. I had to work late this evening because two members of the night housekeeping staff from the janitorial contractor I kept on retainer were out sick, and it was too late to get in someone else to replace them, so we would be shorthanded.

  I tried to push thoughts of the hunky director to the back of my mind as I reviewed inventory. Shit, I was thirty-six and still heart-whole. I never expected to find a long-term partner and had been content to have the occasional liaison. Plus, my life outside of my regular job was busy enough without the added stress of a boyfriend.

  But Titus…I could make time for him. And I knew those thoughts were dangerous, yet they kept rolling around in my head. I guessed at Chinese ancestry, with that last name, and his facial features. I wondered how many generations? Were his hands calloused and warm? What would they feel like if he—

  “Ed?”

  I dragged my thoughts back to the present to see Liz standing in my doorway. “What’s up?”

  Liz was my assistant manager and could run this place without me, no sweat. Taller than me, she could be intimidating and took no crap from anyone. She was also gorgeous, a complete knockout. I wasn’t interested, but I could appreciate beauty when I saw it.

  “Carl just finished cleaning the men’s restrooms from the fifteenth to the twenty-fifth floor. He radioed in to say that two of the toilets were backed up on fifteen. One had Skittles, including the bag, as well as shit oozing out under the lid. The other was stuffed with cigarette butts likely stolen from the disposal receptacles outside the building—ew—and tons of candy wrappers. What is wrong with these people?” She threw her hands in the air.

  “I’d win the lottery if I had an answer for that.” Pranks like this happened at least once a month. I shook my head. “Get maintenance on it, would you?”

  “Will do, boss.” She left to take care of things and I made a note in my logs.

  Just another fabulous day in housekeeping.

  * * * *

  At six o’clock that evening, the night crew came on shift, and I joined them, wearing one of the contractor’s T-shirts.

  “You working late again, Mr. K?” Brian, a short, cute, African-American man who managed the crew at night, said after he doled out assignments to all of us. He grabbed the supplies he needed for his own floor.

  “Oh yeah,” I replied. “You know inspections are on Wednesdays. We can’t afford to have any issues, if I can help it.”

  “I get that,” Brian replied, “but you don’t have to be the one to fill in all the time. Don’t you have better things to do than spend it with these troublemakers?” He pointed a thumb backward at the ten people grinning behind him.

  “It’s like he can’t get enough of us, or something,” Joel, one of the regulars, said with a smirk.

  I rolled my eyes before grabbing a spray bottle, feather duster, some rags, a bucket, and mop, along with a backpack vacuum cleaner and a garbage can on wheels. “Right, because my life revolves around y’all.”

  Snickers followed me as I led the way to the service elevators.

  Truth was, I liked this contractor. The staff they provided was ethical and did good work. A bad inspection once too many times would mean that corporate might decide to fire them and I’d have to hire a new group and break them in. I’d rather not.

  They were a great group, for the most part. The few rotten eggs didn’t last long as they weren’t worth Brian’s energy, or mine. It would be eleven or later before I finally made it home, but that was the way it was, sometimes. I waved goodbye to the workers and got off on the twenty-fourth floor to get started. This was also where property management was housed.

  I decided to leave that office for last and start with the smaller spaces
first. Most of the occupants of the building had already gone home for the day, unless they worked for a law firm or something along those lines.

  I emptied trash, dusted furniture, and vacuumed carpets. Cleaning the glass doors, kitchen sinks, and floors came last. It was a rhythm I’d grown used to over the years, starting very young as I followed my father around in his own house cleaning business, God rest his soul.

  By the time I got to the last office, it was half past eight. There were a few people still working in the property management area, but they ignored me in favor of getting their tasks done. The room furthest in the back was my last stop before vacuuming. Turned out, it was Titus Leung’s office, and he was still at his desk, jacket removed and shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as he pored through a stack of papers.

  Doing my best to keep from jumping the man right then and there, I said a quick, “Good evening,” not expecting a reply, and set about my tasks.

  “Wait a sec. Aren’t you, uh, Ed Kaehler? The housekeeping manager?” I looked at him and saw his eyebrows arch in shock, then knot in confusion.

  Surprised that he even knew who I was, I replied, “Yes.” Not waiting for a response, I emptied his trash in my garbage bin, then asked if it was okay to vacuum his carpet.

  He nodded, bemused.

  I did it quickly, then went on my way.

  That encounter had been unexpected. Maybe he was staying late, trying to get up to speed on things. Not my business. I placed the big bin in an unoccupied spot, then vacuumed the carpet in the main area and mopped the floors. Finally done, I emptied the dirty water in the drain located in the tiny janitorial closet on that floor, then took the service elevator down to the basement to put away my items.

  I texted Brian that I was done.

  He replied, go home, buddy, followed by a smiley emoticon.

  I removed the now-grubby T-shirt, replaced it with a spare I always kept in my office, then locked up and headed to the parking deck. Just as I reached my old, reliable, white pickup truck, I heard someone calling my name.

  “Ed! Hey Ed!”

  I stuck the key in the door before turning to face Titus Leung as he stopped before me. Fucker wasn’t even panting.