by Andrew Grey
“Blaze…,” he groused.
“Damn, you sound like hell. What did you do?” Blaze seemed as chipper as they came.
“Well, I went out for dinner because there was nothing in the house. And… my new assistant and a friend of his asked me to join them, and I drank too much.” He sipped his coffee and let the quiet of the house and the caffeine do their work.
Blaze chuckled. “Why did you do that? I haven’t known you to drink too much in years.”
Thomas sighed. “I think I was lonely and feeling a little sorry for myself last night, and drinking only made things worse.”
“It usually does.” Blaze paused. “Are you sure that’s all there is to it?” Sometimes Blaze had an insight that startled him. “I heard Marjorie hired you an assistant and that he’s cute and….”
Thomas’s hangover dissipated, at least from his immediate consciousness. “Sometimes I swear that woman is a menace.”
Blaze laughed loudly. “I’ve been telling you that for years. She knows everything. Thankfully she keeps most things to herself.”
“Dang her,” Thomas swore.
“So is there an issue with your assistant?” Blaze asked, and Thomas growled. “I’m going to take that as a yes. Now. You can either tell me what’s got you tied in knots, or I’ll worm it out of you with texts and reminders of your hangover. Just make it easy on yourself and come clean.”
“There’s no issue. Brandon is handsome, and I think he’s going to be very good at his job.” Thomas scratched the back of his head, wishing like hell that he could get out of this conversation. Maybe someone would take out Blaze’s cell tower… not pretty, but preferable to going down the road he was being led.
“Thomas…,” Blaze coaxed. “I can fill in the blanks on my own if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Thomas snapped.
“And I like dick, so that comes in handy,” Blaze quipped, and Thomas rolled his eyes.
“Ass,” he retorted because he was too hungover for pithy comebacks. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Which only means there’s something to talk about.” Blaze could be as stubborn as a mule, as stubborn… as Thomas was. “Just spill it.”
“Fine…,” he huffed. “Brandon was the kid who used to mow my lawn for me.”
“And you perved on lawn-mower boy?” Blaze was clearly having too much fun with this. “That’s pretty sick, man.”
“I did not. He was fifteen. I barely noticed him then, and now he’s grown into a stunning man and he keeps looking at me… that way. Like he’s interested.” Thomas swallowed and then drank some more coffee.
“You know that doesn’t matter unless….” Blaze practically cackled. “Are you interested?”
“I’m not dead. Brandon is gorgeous, and he has a good heart and….” Thomas wished to hell he had never allowed this conversation to start. “He lives with his grandmother and needed this job so he could help take care of her. How many twenty-five-year-old kids have that kind of patience and care in them?”
“You like this kid… and that’s why you were getting drunk?” Blaze pressed.
“Yes and no. I like him, but that’s all there is to it and all there will ever be.” Thomas stood, and his head swirled. He slowly sat back down and waited for the room to stop spinning. “It doesn’t matter what my personal feelings are or may be… or the way he looks at me…. Nothing is ever going to come of it.”
“Please. This isn’t the damn fifties. You have no one to apologize to or ask permission of. You’re the boss, and if you want to date your assistant and he’s agreeable, then do it.”
“No. I’m not going down the same road as I did with Angus. That isn’t going to happen!” He spoke loud enough that he gave himself a headache. “I was drinking last night because I was a little lonely, and then Brandon came over and—”
“You continued drinking because you’re interested in him and you were too chicken to say anything and tried to bury your feelings in the bottom of a glass. How did that work out for you?”
“Dammit, Blaze!” He was having too much fun at his expense.
“No. You need to stop repressing any feelings you might have for anyone because of what Angus did to you. I know that asshole hurt you bad, but you can’t stay away from everyone because of him. The man was a complete jerk, and he’s paying for what he did and will for some time yet. I don’t care if you’re interested in your assistant or the guy who lives down the street. But as your friend, I hate to see you shutting yourself up behind work and anything else you can think of so you don’t have to deal with anyone who might hurt you.”
“I’ve always been too busy for a relationship,” Thomas said.
“You keep telling yourself that. But I think that excuse is starting to sound hollow, even to you.” Blaze paused, and papers shuffled in the background. “Anyway, I called to give you a brief update. Everything is going great here. The projects are on schedule, and I’ve been told the permits are in the mail. We are all set.”
“That’s good. What are our next projects?” Thomas asked.
“There are a number of proposals that have been put forward, and I’ve scheduled a meeting for later in the week to review them. Marjorie has it on your calendar—she’s sending you the details. Relax a little and take it easy. That’s why you went out there in the first place.”
“Tell me about it.” Thomas could only sit around watching television for so long. If he was going to take it easy and step back from work, then he needed things to occupy his time, but he hadn’t found anything yet. Not that he’d actually been looking.
“Ask your assistant for ideas on some things you can do. He lives there,” Blaze offered, and Thomas rolled his eyes.
“Just take care of the things in the office and let me worry about my personal life.” He was feeling snippy, and the more Blaze pushed, the grouchier he was becoming.
“I’m your friend, so I care about both sides of you, remember?” Blaze’s voice hardened. If they were in the same room, they’d probably be standing toe-to-toe, arms crossed, staring at each other until one of them looked away.
“Fine. Let me know if there’s anything you need.” Thomas ended the call and slid his phone on the counter, lucky it didn’t fall and smash on the floor. Not that he cared at the moment. He was put out and angry with Blaze, and if he were honest, with himself. Why did he always seem to be interested in people he wasn’t supposed to get involved with?
Not that it mattered. He was not going to develop romantic feelings for his assistant. That was simply too cliché for words. Thomas finished his coffee, feeling more human by the second, and then went upstairs to change into the clothes he intended to wear for the day.
“THOMAS,” BRANDON called from the front as Thomas came down the stairs. “I got your groceries. And I snagged your keys, and a friend helped me get your car back.”
Thomas met him in the kitchen, where Brandon had begun putting things away.
“I went ahead and got you some staple sort of things, as well as what you asked for. I hope that’s okay.” Brandon put everything from the bags away, then hurried back outside and returned with another load.
“How much did you get?” Thomas asked, peeking in the bags.
“There was nothing at all here, so I bought some basics that won’t go bad. At least you aren’t going to starve.” Brandon smiled, and Thomas paused because, damn, the sun came out when he did that.
Thomas forced himself to turn away. He’d just told Blaze he wasn’t going to get involved with his assistant, and a smile had him forgetting all about that within seconds.
“I got you some ice cream. I wasn’t sure about flavor, so I went with chocolate, and some sorbet in case you liked that.” Brandon continued putting things away as he talked. “I got pasta and stuff to make sauce. I didn’t know if you liked that, but it’s easy to make.” He stretched up to put the pasta in the cupboard.
&
nbsp; Thomas’s attention focused on the strip of skin that now showed just above Brandon’s belt. He took a step closer, his fingers tingling to touch. He paused, blinking, and turned away.
“Thomas, are you okay?” Brandon said gently, closing the cupboard doors. “Maybe you need to lie down for a while and get the alcohol out of your system. You seem really distracted.”
“Sorry,” Thomas said, realizing he hadn’t been listening. “You were saying?”
Brandon cleared his throat. “I was asking if you can cook.” He turned to finish getting the refrigerated things put away. “I called the maid service while I was out, and they were very nice. They said they’d send someone by tomorrow. I can talk to them if you’d like. I had a few other calls to make about cleaning ladies, but if it’s okay, we can see if the service works out first.”
“All right.” Thomas shrugged. He didn’t have a preference. “That’s fine on the maid service, and as for the cooking part, not really. In New York I mainly bought my dinners or heated things up. I didn’t have time to make huge meals or things like that. I don’t burn water, but I never learned to cook very well.”
“Okay.” Brandon closed the refrigerator door, picked up a tablet from the counter, and opened it to review his handwritten list. “The people will be here to unpack those crates for you soon. Can I ask what’s in them?”
“Two works of art that are very important to me. Maybe you can help me find a place for them. I don’t want to put either of them over the fireplace. That’s the worst location because of the heat and then cold.”
Brandon looked around. “I’d suggest putting them in the family room, but it’s open to the kitchen, and that means cooking steam and stuff. How about the dining room, or the living room away from the fireplace? It isn’t like you’ll be building a fire anytime soon.”
“All right. I’d like to keep them somewhere I can see them.”
“I understand that,” Brandon said and wandered out of the room.
Thomas pushed back from the table and went after him. He found Brandon in the living room.
“We could put one here, but I think it might get some direct sun and we don’t want that. It might fade.” Brandon walked through the room, looking at each wall, shaking his head. “I don’t like it in here.”
Thomas laughed. “I don’t either. This room doesn’t feel comfortable, and with the huge windows, it seems like a fishbowl.”
“And those curtains.” Brandon shivered. “They’re way too heavy and froofy. If you were going to buy this place, I’d help you pick out something else, but it doesn’t make sense to spend money on something when you’re only going to be here a few months.” He sighed and continued on, wandering into the dining room.
“I thought the de Kooning might go here. I always had it near this table at my place in New York.” Thomas scoped out the blank space. It would be the perfect size for it. He nodded, imagining the bright colors on the wall.
Brandon spun around, his mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “A real one? Wow. Awesome.” He bit his lip and visibly forced himself to move on. “You could try the hall for the other one, but with the front door, I don’t think so.” They both wandered into the family room. “We could hang it here.” Brandon indicated the wall behind the sofa. “It’s away from the kitchen, and you can see it from the chairs. Either that or over there, opposite the television. Both are interior walls and won’t get direct sun.”
“I think either of them will work.” Thomas liked that it would be in a room he would use often. The works held a great deal of sentimental value for him. “Once they’re unpacked, we can choose.”
“Excellent. You said they were valuable, so I contacted a local gallery. They are going to send someone over tomorrow to hang them for you.” Brandon really seemed on the ball. “I didn’t think you’d want us hanging them with wire and a nail.”
“That’s very good.” Thomas smiled, spinning to Brandon as he turned to him. “You seem to understand what I need before I do sometimes.” He stilled, and Brandon did the same.
Brandon licked his lips, and Thomas stifled a groan. Hell and blast. Marjorie had developed a sense of anticipating what he needed, but she did it over years of working together, and here Brandon was doing it within days. It was so intimate so fast. Not only that, but the naked heat in his gaze—granted, it had only lasted a few seconds—made Thomas’s knees weak.
“Thank you.” Thomas turned and strode out of the room, heading for the stairs. He needed some time alone to clear his damned head and get those thoughts of Brandon out of there.
Upstairs, he went right to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He really wanted to take a cold shower to make his errant dick stop aching in his jeans. He sure as hell hoped Brandon hadn’t seen the bulge. The last thing he wanted was for Brandon to see his arousal and either take it as an invitation, or be horrified and decide he didn’t want to work with him any longer.
Two fucking days. That’s all it had taken. Two days and he was already having thoughts about Brandon that he shouldn’t be having, like wondering what was under his polo shirt, and with the tantalizing glimpses of skin, he was….
No. Thomas wiped his face, thinking unsexy thoughts. He closed his eyes, breathed evenly, and shifted his mind to business deals and the paperwork Blaze had sent him to review. That sent his mind in a completely different direction and cleared out images of Brandon.
The chime of an incoming message interrupted his thoughts. The man is here to unpack the crates.
Thomas responded that he’d be down in a few minutes and dried his face before leaving the bathroom.
“Be careful and take your time. These are delicate items,” Brandon was saying as the whine of tools drifted to Thomas’s ears and continued as he reached the room. One man was in the living room on his knees, removing screws from the first case.
“That’s great. Thank you,” Thomas told the man in coveralls, who looked about his age.
“No problem,” he said, barely looking up from his work. “How much do you want me to do?” He removed the last screw and lifted off the wooden cover to reveal paper and Bubble Wrap. “I can take off more if you want.”
Brandon set the covers out of the way against the wall.
“I think that’s good. We’re having them hung tomorrow, so they can stay that way until we’re ready for them. I know this is a piddly job, but I didn’t have the tools for it.” He turned to Brandon, who nodded confirmation.
“It’s no problem.” He opened the second case and then packed up the tools. “If you need anything else, just give us a call.” He smiled and nodded before closing the door after himself.
“I’m anxious to see them again, but I don’t want to take any chances,” Thomas said, feeling a little like an excited kid. In the end he left them where they were and wandered back through the house. He didn’t have any meetings and wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Having time on his hands was unusual for him, and he didn’t know what to do to fill it. He ended up staring at the still-packed paintings, his eyes unfocused as he worked things through.
“Umm… I should go through the house and see what other things you might need.” Brandon left the room, and Thomas’s gaze followed him before he could chastise himself for it.
“How many things are on that list of yours?” Thomas asked.
“Not many,” Brandon said, pausing. “I need to call Marjorie to see if she has anything she needs me to follow up on. I was also going to run some loads of laundry. The cleaning service will do that as part of their contract, but I figured I’d take care of it until they start. I wondered, do you have anything that needs to be done?”
“There are some clothes to take to the cleaners.” Thomas followed Brandon as he left. “They’re in my room. I’ll bring them down. I like to have my shirts professionally cleaned so they’re crisp.”
“No problem.” Brandon went into the kitchen, and Thomas heard the dishwasher start. When he went upstairs afte
r detouring to his office to get his phone, he stopped in his bathroom, passing Brandon as he carried his dirty towels away. “Just trying to keep everything cleaned for you.”
Thomas got his shirts and brought them to the laundry room, where Brandon took charge of them while he spoke with Marjorie.
“Sounds good. I’m just getting things together here. I need to make another run to the store for supplies. I got him groceries, but not cleaning stuff and extra paper products. The house is pretty much set up. We aren’t going to hang most of the pictures unless Thomas changes his mind.” Brandon smiled, pinking a little, probably because he was talking about him. Thomas shrugged. He knew Brandon was talking to Marjorie, who knew most of his secrets. “They’re coming to hang the paintings tomorrow. … When does he have meetings?”
Thomas cocked his head as Brandon listened.
“Okay. So I’m pretty much up to date. This afternoon I was going to make him some things that he can reheat so he has some meals in the house.” Brandon listened again, and then he smiled and ended the call.
“What did Marjorie say?” Thomas crossed his arms over his chest.
“That I’m being very good to you, and that cooking is above and beyond.” Brandon smiled. “I think she likes me.”
Thomas snickered. “I think she does too.” He looked at the lined-up laundry soap on the shelf. “I was wondering what there is to do here. I have time on my hands and don’t know what to do.” Thomas put his hands on his hips. “I grew up here, but I don’t think we ever did much. There are a bunch of touristy things around, but we never did them.”
“Well… there’s Pikes Peak, but that’s an all-day thing to get to the top. There’s Cripple Creek. It’s maybe an hour from town. It’s the old gold-mining town, and there are a lot of things to do there—tours, shops, even some shows, and a saloon and old-time reenactments. It’s the Old West at its best because it’s real… well, mostly real. I think there’s a train through town as well. I haven’t been there since I was in school, but I can look it up and see what you need tickets for.” Brandon got busy immediately, checking things on his phone. “There are plenty of tickets available, especially for one.”