by Tinnean
LATE THE following week, JR called. “Hi, Theo. I hope I haven’t called at a bad time.”
“Not at all. Wills isn’t home yet.”
I could hear his sigh over the line. “I tried calling him at work, but it went to voice mail. I left him a message, but I had to talk to someone.”
“I’m here, JR. What’s going on?”
“That fucker next door got away with just a hundred-dollar fine.”
I was so stunned I didn’t think to call him on his language. “That’s all?” Never mind that as a purebred, the kitten was worth a lot of money. There was also the emotional damage done to the entire Matheson family.
“Oh, he’s got to muzzle General Custer whenever he takes the dog out of the house, even if it’s just into the backyard.”
I heard the key in the door. “Hold on, I think Wills has just come home.” I went into the foyer.
“Hey, babe.” He kissed me.
“Wills, did you check your messages?”
“Yeah. I have one from Jar, but when I tried to call him, the line was busy.”
I handed him the house phone.
“Jar?” Once again I could only hear Wills’s side of the conversation, but I imagined his brother must be repeating what he’d told me. Wills’s expression got colder and colder, and finally he said, “No, I know it’s not fair, Jar, but just remember—karma’s a bitch, and what goes around comes around. Do me a favor and don’t ever forget that, okay? Okay, I’ve got to go. Hang in there, sport.” He hung up and turned to me. “I have to go in to work tomorrow, Theo.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I need a shower. Join me?”
And I let him distract me.
USUALLY WHEN he worked on the weekend, he still managed to get home early. That Saturday he didn’t get in until after 10:00 p.m.
But since he’d called around three to tell me things were so hectic he was going to be late and not to hold dinner for him, that he’d grab a bite when he had a spare moment, I hadn’t been concerned. Well, not too concerned.
WILLS WAS helping me prepare brunch the following morning when his cell phone rang, “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother.” “That’s Jar,” he said. “I wonder why he’s calling. Hi, Jar. How’s everything? Yeah? No kidding. How about that? Yeah, I would. Thanks. Okay, tell everyone I said hi. Yeah, I will. I love you too. Bye, sport.”
I waited for him to tell me the reason behind the call.
“Jar said to say hi.”
“I’m sure he didn’t call just for that.”
“Actually, no. It seems General Custer has gone missing.”
“He has?”
“Yep. Hasn’t been seen since sometime yesterday.”
“That’s interesting.”
“That’s what Jar said. Herendon’s trying to blame Dad for it, but he and Jill were dining at Maggiano’s Little Italy in Boston around that time. Anyway, Jar thought I’d want to know about it.”
“What do you think happened to him?”
“Dad thinks Herendon got rid of the dog himself. He’s got friends up in Maine, and that’s where General Custer probably is now.”
“Isn’t that a little odd?”
“Yeah, but that’s Herendon for you. No one in the neighborhood likes him, so he’s probably playing the sympathy card.”
“He’s a sick puppy.” My nose twitched as I caught the smell of scorching butter. “Shit!” I turned off the burner and cleaned the frying pan. “Sorry, babe. Brunch is gonna be delayed.”
“Not a problem. What can I do to help?”
Chapter 26
I’D NEVER had to give my sister excuses about why I couldn’t come home. She thought she knew: Poppa had ordered me out of the house. Now that I was no longer in the business, I could write to her and ask if she and Ma would maybe like to meet me and Wills in St. Petersburg, but before I could….
“Is this the residence of… of Teodore Bascopolis?” The voice on the phone was female and very formal.
“Yes,” I said cautiously. I hadn’t heard that name in twelve years. “This is Theo. May I ask who is calling?”
“Teo? It is I, your sister Acacia.”
“Casey?”
“Yes!”
“Casey!” Oh, my God! My baby sister! “It’s so good to hear from you!” My eyes started to burn with unshed tears. It had been so long since I’d spoken to anyone in my family. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is everyone all right at home?” My heart was in my throat. I’d given her my unlisted phone number years ago, but she’d never called, probably because Poppa would have seen the charge on the phone bill. And she wouldn’t have called collect, because we’d had it drummed into us from an early age that the phone company was driving the working man into the poorhouse with its exorbitant rates, and mail was cheaper.
“Yes, yes, we’re all well. Oh, Teo, I’m here in Washington, DC.” The unfamiliar formality left her voice.
“That’s wonderful. How long will you be here?”
“A few days. I made the dean’s list, and Momma and Poppa gave me this trip as a reward. They miss you.”
I made a scoffing sound. “Ma, maybe, but Poppa….”
“Poppa has changed, Teo.”
I ignored that. “I’m so glad you made the dean’s list! Good for you, Casey! Do you need a place to stay?”
“No, I have a room in a very nice motel.”
“Okay, but you’re welcome to stay here, you know.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s been so long. I can’t believe— Listen, when can we get together?”
“Soon, I hope. I would like you meet your… your friend.” That formality was back in her voice.
“Well, he’ll enjoy meeting you. Come to dinner tonight. I’ll make something special.”
“That would be nice.” There was a moment of silence. “Teodore, I… I need to talk to you about Poppa.”
My gut clenched. “Acacia, there is nothing to talk about.”
“Please, Teodore.” She sounded as if she were about to cry.
Was I ready to hear anything about Poppa? Leopards didn’t change their spots, but… was I a fool to hope he had? I ran my hand through my hair and took a deep breath. “Tell me, then.”
“Not over the phone.”
“Acacia….”
“Please, Teo. I must talk to you face-to-face.”
“Very well.” I sighed. Of course I was a fool to hope he had changed enough to accept a gay son. It was something that he’d allowed Casey to come to DC on her own. “You can tell me tonight at dinner. Come about six thirty.” I gave her the address and directions.
“Thank you, Teo,” she said softly. “Will… will this friend of yours join us?”
“Yes.” I had written and told her that Wills had moved in. I hoped that wasn’t going to be a problem. This was Wills’s home, and I had no intention of asking him to make himself scarce while my sister and I dined together.
“Oh. Yes. Yes, I remember. Well, I must go now. Until later, Teodore.”
“Yeah, later, Acacia. Bye.” I’d call Wills later and let him know we were having company for dinner.
Before I started biting my nails to the quick, I decided the best thing to do was to go shopping. I’d buy the ingredients for tonight’s dinner.
Stifado. Yes, I’d make stifado, and since I knew Wills wouldn’t eat octopus, and I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about rabbit, I’d make it with lamb. The butcher would have some nice cuts for me.
EVERYTHING—THE small onions, tomatoes, and lamb—was simmering in the pot on the stove when I heard Wills’s key in the door.
Oh, shit. I’d become so distracted I’d totally forgotten to call him.
“I’m home, babe,” he sang out from the foyer. “Some asshole parked in my spot again. I think I’m going to lie in wait, find out who it is, and do him a grievous hurt!”
“Hotshot tough guy.” As if. He
was the gentlest man I knew, and I doubted he could hurt a fly.
“Just don’t cross me.” Wills sounded happy. He must have had a good day at work. He didn’t talk about his job, but I could tell when things had gone well or when they hadn’t. It had been part of my job, to judge a client’s emotional frame of mind. If he was down, I’d make him feel better. If he was up, I’d make him feel more better.
But Wills wasn’t a client, and judging his moods and making him feel better wasn’t a job I got paid to do, it was something I wanted to do.
I walked into the foyer. Wills had dropped his keys in the bowl on the console table, placed his briefcase beside the table—he didn’t often carry a briefcase, but apparently this was one of those times—and picked up the mail I’d left there for him.
He always told me I could open his mail, but there was no need. I’d glanced at the envelopes as I’d brought the mail up. Mostly they were from organizations soliciting donations or credit card companies wanting his business—not that he needed them. I’d added his name to my credit cards, and he’d given a lopsided grin when I’d handed him his cards. He still received the occasional bill from before he’d moved in with me, and I looked on those as none of my business.
As for his family, they seemed to prefer e-mail, but if… when… letters or cards arrived, I had no intention of pushing my luck and opening them, only to find out I’d pissed him off.
Right now he was methodically sorting his mail.
“Shred. Shred. Shred. Donation. Donation….” He became still.
I could never figure out how he could be aware of my approach, especially when I was so quiet, but it wasn’t important. I needed to tell him we were going to have company for dinner. It was the first time. And it was my sister.
I tore the cuticle of my thumbnail, and it started bleeding. “Damn,” I muttered under my breath. My thoughts were wandering. I stuck my thumb in my mouth and sucked the blood off.
He put the mail down on the table, took my hand and brought it to his mouth, and kissed it. “Let’s find you a Band-Aid.”
“No, you already kissed it better.”
He gave me that grin that melted me into a puddle of goo and kissed my mouth. “What smells so good?”
“Stifado.”
“What?”
“Stifado. It’s lamb stew, babe.”
“Ah. We’re going Greek tonight.”
“I didn’t hear that!” I said in a singsong voice, trying to hide my tension. “I could have made it with octopus, you know.”
“Theo, I love you, but not even for you will I eat octopus.”
“I know, babe. That’s why it’s lamb,” I murmured. I slid my arms around him and nuzzled his neck, nibbled on his earlobe. “You have time for a shower. I have to finish setting the table and make the choriatiki salata.”
“What’s up?”
I reached down and squeezed him, hoping to distract him. “You mean besides your dick?”
“Let’s leave my dick out of this.” He touched my ear. “You’re wearing the earring I gave you.”
“Yeah….”
“It looks good on you. Theo.” When I didn’t meet his eyes, he tipped my chin up. “Babe, I’ve been living with you long enough to know when something’s bothering you.”
I looked away and licked my lips. “I… uh… I got a phone call today. It was my sister, Acacia.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t say over the phone. She’s… uh… she’s in town.” I turned to go into the kitchen.
Wills followed me, but he paused by the doorway to the dining room, looked over the table, and let out a low whistle. I paused as well. I knew what he saw.
I’d gone all out. On the rectangular table I’d placed the Irish linen tablecloth his father and Jill had given us. I’d set out the good china—bone, with gold-plated trim—and the sterling silver flatware. There were three place settings. Lead crystal candlesticks stood at either end of the table, and in the center were pink roses, Acacia’s favorite flower.
“Impressive. She’s coming over for dinner?”
I nodded and tried to smile, but I wasn’t sure how successful it was. I didn’t expect Poppa to ask her how I was doing, but if he should, I wanted my sister to be able to tell him things were going well for the gay son he’d kicked out of his house.
“She wants to talk to me about Poppa. I… I told her okay.”
“Fuck. When is she showing up?”
I looked at the watch on my wrist, but I didn’t really need to. I’d been watching the clock all afternoon. “In about half an hour. I’m sorry, Wills. I meant to call you, but I totally forgot.”
“Don’t worry about it. I had my phone turned off all day and didn’t even think to turn it back on after I clocked out.”
“You have to clock out?”
“Figure of speech, babe. Okay. It will be fine. I’ll be right here with you.” He threaded his fingers through my hair and gave a light tug. “You’re wound tighter than a spring. You need to relax.” He had a small smile on his lips. He kissed me and wandered out of the room.
Chapter 27
SEX WAS a good way to relax. I was in the bathroom, adjusting the shower, when he strolled in, naked and aroused. “Do we have time?”
I didn’t answer, just stripped off my clothes, leaving them scattered over the floor, and pulled him into the shower after me.
I wanted to take my time, but we had to hurry. I got our cocks lined up together, enclosed by my fist, and pumped strongly. He closed his eyes and parted his lips. I watched passion chase across his features until he leaned his forehead against mine, shivered, and groaned.
Wham, bam, and we were both coming.
“I’m sorry, babe.” I soaped up a bath sponge and began running it over his chest.
“Why?” Wills leaned back against the tiles and caught his breath.
“I rushed it.”
“Do you hear me complaining?” He had a sated grin on his face.
“No, but….”
“Are you relaxed?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then. And you can make it up to me later.”
“Yeah?”
“You bet your ass.”
“Okay. Turn around and let me get your back.”
I loved his back. Well, except for the scar that was a constant reminder of how close he’d come to dying. It was almost as thick as my thumb and pale, glassy. If he hadn’t told me it was from a piece of flying metal, I would have sworn it was a burn.
I moved down to the taut curves of his asscheeks. No other man’s ass had ever affected me like his did. I wanted to bite it, mark it, bury my cock in it.
As if he knew where my thoughts had gone, Wills spread his legs and angled back toward me. I ran my thumb over the crevice that separated his cheeks, over his hole, down to the balls that hung between his thighs.
“God, you’re beautiful.” I nipped his unmarked shoulder blade. “And I’d better get out and get dressed—”
“Do you have to?”
“—or Casey will find us like this.” I dried off and pulled on my clothes. Fortunately they hadn’t gotten wrinkled.
“I guess you have to.”
I left him standing in front of the mirror, running the electric shaver over his cheeks and humming the song we’d programmed into the door chimes.
Back in the kitchen, I made sure nothing had burned or scorched. I put the salad together. I shaped the biscuits and put them in the oven.
That interlude had helped, but nerves were getting the better of me again.
I filled a silver pitcher with water, added ice cubes.
Was Acacia aware of what gay men did together? Would she be revolted by it?
I thickened the liquid the stew had been simmering in.
What would my lover think of my little sister? What would she think of him?
I ran a hand through my hair and bit down so hard on my lip I hurt myself.
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What would she think of me?
I began to pace.
It had been twelve years since I’d seen Acacia. She had only been eight years old. She’d loved me then, but suppose she didn’t anymore? Suppose she thought Poppa had the right idea and didn’t want me as her brother anymore?
I took out the tureen I intended to use for the stifado.
Suppose….
The doorbell rang, and I dropped the tureen. It hit the floor, sounding like an explosion. I stared at the broken pieces scattered around me.
Wills came running in. “What…?”
“I dropped it.”
“Looks like it.”
The doorbell rang again.
“That must be Casey.”
He kissed me and murmured, “It will be okay. Take a minute to collect yourself. I’ll answer the door.” He looked down at the broken pieces of crockery. “Don’t cut your fingers on that.”
“I won’t. Wills?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time you kiss me… I want it with tongue.”
He grinned and left the room. As I gathered up the pieces of broken tureen and dropped them into the garbage, I heard him open the door, then the rumble of his voice as he introduced himself.
I drew a couple of deep breaths, trying to steady my nerves. I’d take another tureen from the cabinet after I greeted the sister I hadn’t seen in twelve years.
I went into the foyer. “Casey!”
She turned toward me, a hesitant smile on her lips. She was tall for a girl. Her hair hung in brown waves down her back. Her eyes were the same light brown as mine. Beside her….
I came to such an abrupt halt I nearly tripped over my feet.
Standing beside my sister was our… her father.
“Do you want me to throw him out, babe?” Wills asked, his voice low but as hard as the expression in his eyes.
I stared at my sister, feeling betrayed.
“Teodore, please.” Acacia looked unhappy, and she hurried to explain. “Poppa found one of your letters to me and made me tell him where you were. He wanted to see you.”
“Why?” I knew what he thought of me, and I couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, to see the disdain that must be in them. “Does he need money?” I wanted to hurt him as badly as he’d hurt me, and so I struck out at his pride.