by Jan Irving
Mal gestured to the food and beverages waiting, and used to this familiar ritual, Leif smiled in thanks and sat down on one of the painted benches that ran along one side of the dining table. It was covered with one of those plastic tablecloths with flower prints so that it was easy to wipe up. Leif recognized it as Nan’s touch. The whole cottage still seemed so much like it had when she’d served him cake and coffee that he expected to see her.
If he could feel her presence, it couldn’t be easy for Mal, her grandson. He studied the younger man, seeing the shadows under his eyes despite the rosiness of a new tan. He wasn’t sleeping well.
“It’s not wine,” Mal said, giving a self-conscious little laugh, as if he was aware that Leif might think he was drinking again. “It’s juice.”
Leif lifted the glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Nice,” he said, thanking his host. He was ill at ease, but he wanted to help Mal relax. How did he do that?
Mal shrugged, a rueful look in his eyes. “I can be civilized sometimes. Nan did try.”
“You’re lucky you had her,” Leif said, sincere. Despite all the work that he knew needed to be done in this cottage, it was a home full of the memory of living and love. He could feel it and see it in all the country knick-knacks and quirky framed needlepoint works hanging in the room. Off to one side was a vintage sewing machine, some pieces of fabric still slotted to the side as if Nan were still working on a project.
“I didn’t treat her as well as I should have,” Mal reflected, his face darkening. “I avoided coming home the last two years.”
“Avoided?” Leif raised his brows, not hiding his curiosity about this man he found dangerously enticing.
Mal grimaced. “She knew I was gay. I almost think she knew before I did… and I think she worried for me since she didn’t want me to have a hard time, but when I first joined the team I tried—I didn’t want to be who I am. I slept around with a lot of women.”
“Oh. Yes, I’d heard that you had a reputation as a party boy.”
“I bet the whole town heard.” Mal shook his head. “I didn’t want to face that, that I might have shamed her. And… after a while I wasn’t sleeping around with women, but with all the hot men I could find. Kind of… bingeing.”
“Mmmm.”
Mal skewered Leif with a look from hot blue eyes. “I doubt you know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t,” Leif agreed, coloring.
“I didn’t think so. You seem kind of… innocent.” Now Leif could feel Mal’s curiosity about him. “Despite the fact you’re older than I am.”
Leif took a sip of his juice, giving himself a moment. “I believe in romance.”
“Romance,” Mal repeated, saying the word as if he found it a foreign concept, but then from his experience, it must be.
Leif looked at him with dignity. He would not be made to be ashamed of what he wanted, what he was waiting for, or who he was. “Yes.”
Mal gave an odd-sounding laugh. “So that’s why you pushed me away? Because I, uh, jumped the gun?”
“It would probably not have been very nice,” Leif said primly. He felt heat rising in his cheeks anew.
“Oh, I disagree,” Mal said with another laugh, but he looked a little pissed off as well, as if Leif had trod on his pride. “It would have been very ‘nice.’ Know what I would have done?”
Leif swallowed thickly.
“Dropped down on my knees, opened your jeans and sucked your cock. And I give un-bee-lieveable head.”
Leif lifted a hand. “White flag.”
Mal’s eyes softened. “You’re very old fashioned, huh?”
Leif nodded, feeling a bit relieved that Mal was turning down the heat. He was only human. “I really want to meet one special person, someone who will be with me the rest of my life. But you were… very hot, Mal. I’ve thought about little else,” he found himself admitting as his gaze dropped to the plate of cheese and crackers.
“I’m glad it wasn’t because I smelled bad or something.”
Mal looked appeased, which made Leif a little sorry for him. Was his skill in giving head all he felt he had to offer someone? But he kept that thought to himself as he bit into a cracker.
“Does your father know you’re gay?” Mal asked, helping himself to some cheddar.
Leif shook his head. “It never really came up before my father fell ill, and now I’m afraid it would confuse him, so I don’t talk about it. Besides, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Yet,” Mal said. And then he looked as if he wasn’t sure what he meant by that provocative word. He cleared his throat. “So, do you want to see my roof? I think it’s how the bats are getting in.”
Leif relaxed, feeling the sweat on the back of his neck from sitting so close to bewildering and gorgeous Mal. “They do that,” he said.
THEY brought in a ladder from the open storage place below the cottage. It was kind of a shed that ran half the length, built into the slope. Thin wooden boards separated it from the outside, so it would not provide any insulation in the harsh winter months, but then this was strictly a summer cabin, Leif noted.
Mal spotted him under the ladder after they maneuvered it up the stairs to the patio off the great room, through the narrow door, and then past the curtained gap that led to the small sleeping loft and two bedroom spaces. Once up on the ladder, Leif touched the rift he could see easily. Blue sky actually shone inside the space through the holes.
“Looks like a storm maybe took off some of the roofing,” he noted. “The wood underneath isn’t very sturdy. You’re lucky you didn’t wind up with a heap of melting snow in here. Must have been one of the spring windstorms.”
Mal nodded. “Storms out here sound like the end of the world. I remember,” he said with feeling. “Sometimes Nan and I would put pillows in the windows so they wouldn’t shatter, and one year all the boats out on the lake wound up in the trees.”
“Yep.” Leif hesitated on the ladder, mulling over what had to be bad news to the new cottager. “Mal, you really should replace the whole roof, and that’s not something an amateur is going to have much luck with. You could maybe help out, but to do a job like this….”
“Nan saved for years so I have a nest egg, but I want to be careful with it,” Mal said. “It’s all I have.” He moved back as Leif climbed down the ladder. The two men were standing very close together now, but Mal did not move back. Instead he lifted his chin, holding Leif’s eyes. “I’d like to make some improvements, bring running water in, build a shower, and make it possible to live here year ‘round.”
“Year ‘round?” Leif was startled. “Don’t you plan going back to the city life?”
Mal’s brows furrowed. “No. What for?”
“Uh, I just assumed….”
“For more threesomes?” Mal poked.
Leif rubbed the back of his neck, blushing. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I bet the whole town thinks I’m just… a party boy. After all, I fucked up my chance to make the cut again for the Olympics.”
“I think people were disappointed you didn’t make it that far. It would have been something for folks around here,” Leif corrected gently. “But you already won a gold medal, which is something most people never attain.” Mal was so defensive, but it was obvious that it hurt him to be seen in a bad light. He was far more vulnerable than Leif had expected of someone who had spent years away in the heart of everything.
“I fucked up somehow, maybe pushed myself too hard,” Mal sighed. “I can’t take it back.”
“We all make mistakes. And even when we don’t, we still have to live with some things that are hard.” Leif thought of his Papa. The love was always there. He hadn’t stopped loving his father any less when he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.
Mal’s shadowed blue eyes studied Leif, as if he could see what he was thinking. They both had shit. “So what do I do about my roof?”
Leif backed away slightly, since he was so close to Mal he was
afraid he might reach and touch the tangled black hair, feel the cool silk in his fingers. “I can give you an estimate after I give it a thorough look and then bring in my roof guy. We can discuss options—what kind of roof you want to put in, though I recommend you bite the bullet and get the best grade you can. It’ll save you money in the long run to do it right.”
Mal nodded. “Okay. It seems logical to start with that. Looks like I got a lot of work to do on this place, huh?”
“Some folks opt to tear down these cottages,” Leif admitted reluctantly. “Because building new from the ground up is easier with renovations and winterizing. Cheaper too.”
“No way. This is… Nan’s place. It’s all I have of her,” Mal said. “All I had of someone who actually loved me.” He gave a rusty laugh. “So, you say I can help out?”
“If you want to work with my crew, you could schedule working on the roof in the late afternoon. It’s light long enough this time of year, and it might cut you a break with the roofing guy if he could do it over some time.”
“Okay, sounds good,” Mal said. “I even want to eventually do something with the storage space under the cottage. Maybe build a staircase down there and turn it into some kind of useable space, like a studio.”
Leif blinked. “Studio?”
“Um.” Mal ran nervous fingers over the side of the wooden ladder. “I like to paint.”
“Oh.” Leif could see that Mal was still a little defensive. Shit, he was prickly. Well, fortunately Leif was a pretty patient guy. He had to be. “It’s kind of dark down there for that kind of thing.”
“Hadn’t thought of that,” Mal said.
“I’ll think on it,” Leif promised. “Maybe I can come up with some kind of solution for you.”
Mal’s lips curled, the bottom one all the fuller with the half smile. He was enticing without making any effort. “Thanks.” He shifted his hips so he was again a little closer to Leif. “So how about dinner sometime?”
Chapter Four
LEIF was sipping a beer on his dock hours later. It was past midnight, but he couldn’t sleep. Rocking gently beside him, as if encouraging him to go out over the lake, his dinghy bumped amiably in moorage.
But he didn’t feel right tonight leaving Papa. He was afraid of a repeat of the night before, and this time the firefighting volunteers would probably not be as understanding, not that he could blame them.
More, he wasn’t sure he was ready for another unsettling encounter with Mal Harrison. He’d made a few monosyllabic noises after the other man’s offer of dinner sometime and got the hell out of there. His last sight of Mal had been the disappointed blue eyes through Leif’s windshield as he beat a hasty retreat. But he couldn’t be for real, could he?
The truth was, Leif found himself more and more drawn to Mal, to the loneliness and loss he could relate to, to the vulnerability that lurked under the cocky façade. But he was an unsuitable man. He had scoffed at the idea of romance.
On top of all the other painful shit in his life, Leif was afraid of getting hurt.
Leif was taking another sip of his beer when a dark seal’s head popped up right next to the dock. He almost lost his grip on the can, but then the seal transformed into a selkie instead. It was Mal Harrison, out for another late night swim.
He grinned up at Leif, his teeth white against the darkness of his face. “Hey,” he gasped. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”
You always scare me, Leif thought, but he only shook his head reprovingly at the imp. “You snuck up on me deliberately.”
“Maybe.” Mal reached up to climb on the dock and Leif took his arms, lifting him easily.
Mal’s eyes widened at this display of strength. “Wow.”
Leif flushed, self-conscious. “I am a working man.”
“Are you ever,” Mal said, that coy appreciation in his blue eyes. He took Leif’s beer and sipped. “Nice after the swim. Warms you up.”
“Hmmmm.” Leif hoped Mal hadn’t been drinking again.
Mal seemed to read his thought. “Nope, no drinking tonight. I have to be up early for my new boss man.” His tone took on a silky quality on the last two words.
Leif cleared his throat. “You must be able to hold your breath for a long time. I didn’t see you until you were right under the dock.”
Mal’s eyes danced, as if he refused to take anything seriously. His hair was slicked back from his face, droplets from the lake running down his sleek brown form. His nipples were pointed from the slight breeze. Leif tried not to stare and imagine them in his mouth.
“Holding my breath is useful for swimming… and giving a good BJ,” Mal noted.
“Mal.” Leif looked away. He took a deep drink of his beer. “I am easy. Please don’t.”
“Hey,” Mal called softly.
Leif looked at him reluctantly, finding him beautiful under the moonlight in his sodden swimming trunks, his body glistening with moisture, his eyelashes clumped together, his lips parted, cheeks flushed. He looked like he’d had a bout of energetic sex, not mere swimming.
“I’m sorry. I forget sometimes that you’re pretty innocent.”
“By choice,” Leif grumped. He wasn’t pathetic. If he wanted to play around, he would.
“Right,” Mal nodded, studying Leif’s face. “Want to come in?”
“In?” Leif repeated suspiciously.
“The water!” Mal kicked out his dangling feet, making a gentle splash.
“I don’t have on swimming trunks,” Leif began.
“So what? I skinny dip when I’m near my place,” Mal admitted, waggling his dark brows.
“I won’t do that!” Leif shook his head. “It’s late.”
“You go out rowing late. Come on, the water feels incredible.” Mal slipped back into it in a smooth movement, looking up at Leif.
Leif hesitated, since some wild part of him wanted to follow Mal into the water. When was the last time he’d done something purely for fun? Except the rowing he did, and that was always alone.
He listened to the pounding of the blood in his veins, holding Mal’s bright blue eyes, and next thing he knew, his hands were on the buttons of his overshirt. He peeled it off first and then his T-shirt, blushing when Mal whistled from below. Self-conscious now, he shucked off his leather sandals and jeans, leaving his boxers.
“Teddy bears?” Mal’s voice was gently amused.
“It was a joke last Christmas,” Leif said. “But they are serviceable, so….”
“Very practical,” Mal agreed, approving the bear-patterned boxers. “Come on.”
Leif walked back down the dock to where it was shallower and carefully dropped in, hissing a little since the water felt chilly to his warm skin.
Mal waited, treading water.
Leif decided to get it over with and flopped forward, laughing at the sudden dunking. He grew accustomed to the water quickly, and it was very nice, like satin against his skin. Grinning shyly now, he swam to Mal.
“Not bad. I thought you’d take forever, dipping in a leg and then an arm.” Mal quirked a brow.
“I usually do,” Leif admitted. “But tonight I’m being reckless.”
“Sexy and reckless—sounds good.”
Leif blinked, eye-level with Mal in the water. “Sexy?”
“Are you kidding? You have muscles on muscles.” Mal’s voice was a little tight. “No wonder you can lift me so easily. It’s hot.”
MAL was feeling some smugness over getting Leif to come in the water. When he’d lit out so quickly after Mal’s dinner invitation, it had hurt. Stupid, but that’s what Mal had experienced. And geez, it was just dinner in the hick diner in town—a place that served pancakes practically 24/7—but it had felt like a big deal when Leif drove away and Mal was left alone in his quiet cottage again.
He’d filled in the time with walking to the well to get fresh water in the bucket to wash his dishes and make some coffee, and then he’d made a quick supper out of the spaghetti he’d found in Nan’
s pantry with canned sauce. There was nothing fresh like salad or bread, so he’d have to do some grocery shopping.
Then after dinner, he’d gone in the water for his daily long swim, which surprised him by feeling so good—maybe because without the pressure of training, he could actually remember how terrific it felt. He’d headed like a homing pigeon for the opposite side of the lake, the side where Leif lived. He hoped he’d intercept him rowing but had lucked out when he’d spotted him on his pier.
“When I first saw you, I thought of a merman,” Leif admitted now. His gray eyes were soft in the starlight, fixed on Mal’s face. “And now you’ve lured me into your world.”
Mal nodded. “It is my world. I always loved swimming and sailing and all that shit here at the lake every summer. This is where it all began for me.”
“Full circle then,” Leif noted. “Maybe you needed to return to a simpler place.”
Mal chewed his lip. “Yeah. I think maybe I might find some stuff I’ve been missing.”
“Where do you want to swim?” Leif broke the heaviness of the moment, and Mal felt gratitude. He wasn’t usually a deep thinker, and all this time alone was giving him too much time to examine his past actions. Right now, he just wanted to have a little fun.
“Let’s head to the marsh two cabins over and then come back,” Mal said. He wasn’t sure how often Leif swam, so he decided to take it easy on him.
But Leif kept up with him, his longer, muscled arms and legs powerful. It felt great to move through the water with someone, like sharing a secret. They didn’t talk, but they occasionally smiled at each other.
At the marsh, Leif pointed and Mal watched a Canada goose swim through the reeds with some dark fuzzy babies following in her wake. Mal and Leif treaded water, hearing the frogs nearer to the beach croaking softly. Above them, the stars were scattered in a bright pattern, so many more than it was ever possible to make out in the cities where Mal had lived the past few years. And at water level, there were lights dotting the circumference of the lake where people were still up. Mal caught the smell of wood smoke.