by Megan Slayer
“I volunteered for five years in Springdale. I used to go over to the shelter when I had rough days in court and after I split from my then-boyfriend.” Len stuffed his hands into his pockets. “The dogs are great therapy animals—even if they don’t have the label. They helped me get through the rough times. Cissy has been the best.”
“Good.” She handed him a card. “Call Stone. He’ll like you.”
“Thanks.” He’d call on the next day the shelter was open. He yawned. “I’m heading out. It’s been a long day of moving and we’re not done.”
“We’re? Is there a boyfriend in the mix?” She grinned. “I hope so.”
“No. My son and Matt helped. The hired moving men will come tomorrow with the majority of my stuff,” Len said. “I didn’t want to burden Aiden and Matt with everything. They’ve got enough on their plate.”
“Understandable,” Elise said. “Since it appears you’re single, don’t let Brandon fool or spook you. He’s always on the prowl. He can’t settle down and doesn’t want to. He wants a good time. If that’s not what you want, then don’t even try with him.”
“Noted, but I hadn’t planned on it. He sort of attached himself to me.” He had his eye on someone else, but that someone wasn’t interested, so he’d be happy being single.
“As long as you know what Brandon’s up to, you’ll be fine.” She patted his arm. “If you yawn again, I’ll get a complex. Go home and rest. You deserve it. See you around.”
“See you and thanks.” He left without looking back or hunting for Brandon. He’d rather not have contact with him again. Bone-deep weariness had set in and Cissy probably wanted to go out.
Len walked back to his condo. He’d said he didn’t mind being alone—save for the dog—but it wasn’t the truth. He missed having a boyfriend. The nights were still chilly, despite the change in the spring air, and he hated having an empty bed.
One day, he’d find Mr. Right. Hopefully, Mr. Right would turn into Mr. Forever.
* * * *
The next morning, Len willed the dull ache behind his eyes to go away. The movers had arrived and he directed traffic. He’d planned out every aspect of where he wanted things, yet he wasn’t happy. Once the truck had been emptied, he headed out to the front lawn for a breath of fresh air and to clear his mind. He’d have to buy a few things to round out the design he’d prepared for the condo, but he’d ask Aiden to help choose the new end tables.
“Having a garage sale? Those are only on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays during the months of May through August.” Brandon strode up to him. “You should really read the by-laws.”
“I’m sorry?” Len massaged his temples. “I’m moving.”
“How silly of me. Of course you are.” Brandon folded his arms. “So, Cedarwood and the Majestic Complex are gay-friendly. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it, but they are. If you want to straight troll, go to Club 51. It just opened three months ago, but it’s good for picking up dates. The cowboy club—I forget the name—is good if you have a cowboy fetish. The Steakery has the best beefy guys, but it’s five miles out of town. I prefer Purple. The club scene there is the best.”
Len let Brandon chatter on while he pointed to the chart and directed the movers. He didn’t need advice on where to troll. Jesus. He didn’t want to hunt for a date. Not today or in the near future. Besides, he knew Cedarwood. He wasn’t versed in the club scene, but it didn’t matter.
“Where do you go to get guys?” Brandon asked.
So high school. “I’m still getting adjusted after the move, but I know Cedarwood. My son lives here and I used to years ago. My son is a doctor at the hospital and his husband owns a body shop.”
“Body shop?” Brandon’s eyes lit up. “Is that a new club?”
“No, he works on cars.”
“Oh.” This time, Brandon frowned.
“Thanks, though.” He should concentrate on helping the movers.
“Want to get together? Wine? My place?” Brandon asked.
This guy wasn’t letting up. “How about coffee some time? Not soon. I’m still getting the condo together, but I hear the Brew is good.” It was a nice, safe public place, too.
“How about eight tonight? I’ll see you then.” Brandon, seemingly placated, strolled away without giving Len a chance to argue.
Len gritted his teeth. What a strange guy. He craved attention and seemed nice enough, but was a tad too needy for Len’s taste. Brandon probably wouldn’t get along with Aiden and Matt, either.
Oh well. He had a job to do—arranging his home.
Len spent the next six hours moving his things and unpacking.
“It’s starting to shape up, Ciss.” He petted the dog. “I miss our old condo, but I see potential here.”
She barked, then climbed onto the bed. Len sighed. He loved the dog, but he missed having someone to hold him. Someone to listen when he wanted to talk. The dog was good company, but he needed a man.
“I need to run to the store or we won’t have dinner. Hold down the fort?” He petted Cissy. “I’ll be right back.”
Len locked up, then drove to the supermarket. As he walked through the aisles, he picked up items he and Cissy would need for the week. He turned down the spice aisle and stopped short. The man at the other end sure looked like his doctor and crush. Isaac? No. Isaac McLean couldn’t be there. He’d moved practices, but Len wasn’t sure where to. He busied himself with choosing a brand of cinnamon, but watched the man. If he wasn’t Isaac, then he sure looked like the family doctor.
Len ignored the pull toward him and forced himself to the register. Part of him wondered if Isaac would ever look at him as anything besides a patient and the friend of his son.
He headed out to the car and tried to clear his head. Maybe he needed sex. Maybe he needed a date. What did he know? If he got laid, he’d forget his crush on Dr. Isaac McLean.
Maybe.
Chapter Two
Isaac stood at the end of the aisle and watched Len leave the store. He should’ve spoken to him, but damn, he couldn’t shake his case of the nerves. He knew Len. He’d seen the man naked and taken care of him for the last five years. But when he needed to be strong, he hesitated. Damn it.
He wished he’d spent more time with Len over the years and talked about his desires. He’d have crossed one hell of a line, but Len had seemed interested and worth it. Len, despite having had a stroke, had aged well, looked good, was handsome and, while he might be a little older than Isaac, age was just a number. The electricity between them had been strong. Maybe it could be again.
Dorian, Isaac’s friend and former housemate, tugged on his arm. “Hey.”
“Yeah.” He focused on his friend. “Yes.”
“Are you okay?” Dorian waved his hand in front of Isaac’s face. “Did you see a ghost?”
“No.” He pushed the cart. “I’m okay.” He wasn’t, but he didn’t want to discuss his crush with Dorian. Not right now.
“Are you sure?” Dorian walked beside him. “You seemed spooked.”
“I’m fine.” Liar. God. Why couldn’t he be honest? If he had, maybe he’d be with Len right now, not ogling him.
“Right,” Dorian said, drawing out the word. “You don’t fib well.”
“What?” He continued to push the cart. “I’m okay.” He was lonely, but that wasn’t a shock. Now that he lived in Cedarwood, he was living alone for the first time in four years. He’d opted to move forward when he’d been offered a partnership in the Cedarwood Family Practice. He liked the new staff and building so far.
“Are you sure you want to live here? This town is odd,” Dorian said. “We’re getting stared at.”
“We are?” He hadn’t noticed.
“Yeah. There was that older guy, then a couple and the silver fox. That guy was hot.” Dorian selected a box of baking soda. “Do we stick out that much?”
“No—well, you do. You’ve got pink hair and nail polish.” Dorian loved to gender bend. He worked his
look well, though. He knew how to pair pink with combat boots and make it seem effortless. “I’ve always envied your ability to wear polish and makeup with a beard.”
“It’s a gift.” Dorian read the back of a package of chocolate chips. “I’m happy and that’s what matters. Are you happy here?”
“Sure.” He drummed the handle of the cart. “I wanted to move here.”
“Well, whatever. If you’re happy, then I am, too.” Dorian picked up one of the bags of chocolate chips.
“Of course you’re happy. You’re the one with the boyfriend and no cares in the world.” He hated to be jealous of Dorian, but he’d been single for too long. “How is Aziz?”
“Good. He’s still working on his doctorate, but he loves his politics.” Dorian sighed and picked invisible lint from his leather jacket. “I wish he’d finish. When he ever graduates, he’ll be up to his eyeballs in debt, but he’ll be able to work. I can’t imagine how he’ll ever get out of that student loan debt.”
“I’m guessing he doesn’t know, either.” Isaac pushed the cart to the refrigerated section. “You said you needed butter.”
“I do.”
“Is he going to be upset you came over tonight?” Isaac asked. Aziz could be clingy and jealous when he thought Dorian might be stepping out. Isaac and Dorian would never be more than friends, but that hadn’t stopped Aziz from worrying.
“No. He’s doing a radio show tonight in Lexington. I wasn’t invited and didn’t want to go,” Dorian said. “I don’t care about political opinions.” He held up his hand and waved the box of stick butter. “I take that back. I care, but I don’t want to debate political opinions. I have mine and I’m willing to listen to yours, but I don’t want to argue about it. He loves to argue.”
“Well, you care about him.” He steered the cart to the registers. Once there, he placed the items on the belt. “Here. You ring these and I’ll bag. I brought bags.”
“Sure.” Dorian pinged each item. “I care about him, but he’s been pulling away.”
Shit. He didn’t want to hear that. He’d thought Dorian and Aziz were tight. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not good, but it’s okay. He still won’t move in with me and I’m not sure it’d work if he did. We’re good on paper and in bed, but he’s not marriage material and he’s not interested in focusing on one relationship.”
“Ouch.” He’d thought they might tie the knot. “I missed those signs.”
“He’d rather live at the college,” Dorian said. “I’d love for him to teach, but he thinks he could make a career out of being on those political shows. He wants to say he’s a professor and live on campus, so he can look important. I think he won’t live with me because he’s got a slew of guys on the side.”
“He knows politics, but if he’s sleeping around…” He tapped the screen. “Done?”
“Done.” Dorian placed the bags in the cart. “Aziz wants to be famous. Ever since that guy told him he was a fan, all Aziz could talk about was being on television.”
“I suppose that’s good for him, but it’s not for a relationship.” He paid the bill. “Do you want a break? From him?” He wasn’t a good person to give dating advice, but he could listen.
“I want a break from Aziz, sort of. I love him, but I can’t do the drama.” Dorian pushed the cart through the sliding doors. “Why can’t guys we find want to settle down or at least sleep with just us, not everyone at the same time?”
“Luck of the draw?” Isaac followed Dorian to the car. “You can stay over tonight.”
“I’ll be okay—if you will.” Dorian elbowed him. “I’d like to meet a lawyer—not you—or maybe a banker. Someone with a good job, steady home life, and he has to be hot. What do you want?”
“I don’t know any longer.” He had an idea. Isaac loaded the bags into the trunk. “Do you ever wonder if you made the right choices?”
“About?”
“Life.” He pushed the cart into the cart return. “I thought coming here would be good for me. A new start. All I can think is that I made the wrong decision.”
“So meeting Aiden was a bad thing?” Dorian joined him in the car.
“No.” Maybe. “He’s married. There isn’t a chance I’d get with him ever.”
“Okay, so nothing’s possible with him. Big deal.” Dorian fiddled with the radio as Isaac left the parking lot. “Don’t you want to work at the new place? It’s bigger and you have your own receptionist. That’s huge.”
“I do.” He worried his patients wouldn’t follow him. He’d let them all know he’d moved, and a few had scheduled appointments, but that didn’t quell his nervousness. “I’m scared I’ll realize I should’ve stayed where I was.”
“Because it was a rut.” Dorian selected a radio station, then turned to Isaac. “Honey, we go where we go for a reason. Even when we think we’re in control, we aren’t. We’re where we should be because we’re supposed to be there.”
“Are you done being a motivational poster?” He sped across town to his apartment. “I don’t need that much of a pep talk.” Okay, maybe I do.
“I’m done,” Dorian said. “But that pep talk was for me, too. I’m over here worrying about a man who doesn’t give a shit about me. We’re apart for a reason. He knows what he’s doing and I’m letting him do it. I need to stick up for myself.”
“Dorian.” His friend was right. Dorian needed to stop being a doormat for Aziz.
“I’m not interested in worrying about him. Let’s go to your awesome apartment that could be bigger and make cookies. I’m at my best when I’m baking.”
“And yet you’re an accountant.” He turned in to his parking garage. “But you’re good at baking.” Part of Isaac worried about Dorian. His friend wasn’t good on his own. No matter how many times he told Dorian he was a perfectly good catch, Dorian chased after the next guy to come along.
But Dorian was an adult and could handle himself.
As Dorian left the car, Isaac considered his own situation. He had no boyfriend, a good job, no relationship prospects, no real desire to look for a partner, but a lot of energy for complaining about his nonexistent relationship status. He did have a burning crush on an older man and the confounding need to snag him instead of settling for someone else.
Not good.
Maybe alone was his best bet.
* * * *
Two nights later, Len managed to suffer through the coffee date with Brandon. He had better things to do on a Monday evening, but he couldn’t get Brandon to give him space otherwise. The more Brandon talked, the more Len lost interest. He wasn’t big on chatty, needy men.
Tuesday morning, he sat on the front porch of his condo and sipped his coffee. He read through the paper and basked in the first warm morning of the spring. He loved coffee on the porch.
A man jogged down the sidewalk and Len considered the scene. He needed to get back into running. He’d let his exercise regimen get slack during the move. Cedarwood had a swim park. He’d have to get a membership and get back into swimming laps.
His thoughts turned from swimming to Isaac. His doctor had told him that swimming and running were good for him. For a moment, he wondered if the jogger could be Isaac. Nah. Isaac wouldn’t live in this kind of development. He’d have a big house and a hot boyfriend. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t ogle the jogger’s ass. He admired the bit of jiggle with each step. He had enough to grab and looked hot in those running pants. Heat rushed to Len’s groin. Shit. He needed to rub one off or have a one-nighter. No, he needed a lover, not a fuck buddy.
Another jogger came down the sidewalk. As soon as Len spotted the second runner, he knew the man.
Brandon.
“Hi.” Brandon jogged up his lawn. “Didn’t expect to see you out this morning. We were out late last night.”
“I was home by eight.” He should be nice. “How’s the run?”
“Good. I need to get in one more mile.” Brandon stretched and twisted in front
of Len.
“Better get it done.” He smiled. “Good luck.”
“I’m due for a break.” Brandon rolled his shoulders. Sweat trickled down his neck. “Are you done moving?”
“For now.” He’d make changes. He always did. Ross would’ve thrown a fit and claimed Len was never happy. So I’m picky. So what?
“You should come with me for a run.” Brandon opened the top on the little water pack he’d wrapped around his hand. He drank a bit and smacked his lips. “Do you run?”
“I do.” He needed to get back into it, but he’d rather have a different partner.
“Why don’t you join me?” Brandon asked. “I’d love a new running partner.”
“I’m more of a lone wolf.” He stood on the porch. Cissy came to the door and barked. “I should go. Cissy wants out and she’s still not sure about you. Better get that last mile in.” He waved. “Besides, she wants to go for a walk and I need to clean up the porch first.”
“She can come along.” Brandon downed more water. “Did you enjoy the mixer? Our date last night? I had a great time.”
“It was nice.” How else could he say he wasn’t interested, and be delicate about it?
“Are you planning on going to any of those clubs?” Brandon asked. “Want a tagalong?”
“I’m still settling in.” He wasn’t interested in clubbing.
“Ah, well, when you do, I should warn you. There were things I didn’t mention last night.”
“We talked about a lot.” Well, Brandon had talked and Len had done a lot of listening.
“Well, first thing…I’m debating starting a dating group for the LGBTQ community. There is an LGBTQ support group. Why can’t there be one devoted to dating? I think it would be nice to know who’s looking for a partner and who wants to play,” Brandon said.
Len wasn’t a fan of the idea, but some might get positive aspects out of it. “If it makes you happy.”
“It does,” Brandon said. “There are so many pitfalls to dating. That’s the other thing. There are some great people in Cedarwood, but there are also some real duds.”