Leaning Into Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hayes, Lane

  Yesterday was a perfect example. We’d met at a coffee shop in the Ferry Building at noon. It was a Sunday but Finn had to go into his office to prepare for a huge meeting the next morning. I claimed I was in the neighborhood picking up a textbook from one of my fellow Francophiles and suggested we meet. Yeah, I totally lied. I had no intention of lugging a book around the Embarcadero. And though Finn was a better French tutor than I would have thought, I had a hard enough time speaking English around the guy. Especially lately.

  I hung on his every word. The cadence, the pitch, the twinkly eyed look he’d give me when he corrected my pronunciation for the umpteenth time, and the drop-dead sexy grin that curled one side of his mouth before the other and made me melt like butter on a warm biscuit. I was a mess around him, and it was getting worse every time we met. My gaze wandered over his stubbled jaw and lingered on the exposed skin under his Adam’s apple. I’d never been one to stare at a man’s throat before, but fuck, everything on Finn was sexier than it should have been. So why were we sipping coffee and nibbling on muffins when we could have been screwing our brains out at one of our places?

  I tuned him out as he jabbered in another language. I wondered if he’d changed his mind about me. Personally, I was in over my head. Every time we were together, I liked him more than ever. He was charming, charismatic, and he made me laugh. I was beginning to rethink my initial assertion that friendship and sex had to be mutually exclusive. We hadn’t had sex since the night my dad came out to me. And that was weeks ago. I didn’t like this at all. It was like ignoring the last pint of chocolate ice cream in the freezer…just because. Who did that? Not me, that was for fucking sure.

  “Quelle heure est-t’il?”

  Finn leaned forward and tapped my hand. I started, accidentally knocking over the last of my coffee and both of our half-eaten muffins. Seconds later, the seagulls descended. Let’s get one thing straight—the seagulls in the Bay area were freaking big-ass predators. Two landed at my feet then called three of their friends to join them for lunch. When some pigeons invaded their feast, things got crazy. I jumped up to shoo the buggers away, waving my hands and a flimsy scrap of napkin. They were unimpressed. And to prove it, one of them crapped on me. Literally.

  Finn was in hysterics. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him laugh that hard. He doubled over, swiping at tears while I stared at the white shit on my sleeve, grumbling unhappily about avian attackers. He was still chuckling when he helped me clean up with bottled water and a stack of napkins. But I didn’t mind. I loved the melodic sound. It wasn’t until the laughter subsided and our eyes met that confusion set in. He wanted me. Bad. Why wasn’t he doing anything about it?

  * * *

  “Why don’t you do something then?” Marley asked, draping my jacket over my office chair.

  I snuck a peek at Talia who was busily re-spritzing her Jo Malone at her desk. The last thing I needed was Grant’s cousin chiming in with advice about how to jump-start some nookie with the guy who used to be my sure thing. Talia knew I was gay and had a crush on someone. That was all the intel I was willing to part with for now. Marley, on the other hand, knew everything. I had to tell someone and unfortunately, my best friends were biased when it came to Finn. Marley was the perfect confidante. She didn’t know him and she was always rooting for the underdog when it came to matters of the heart. Or the bedroom.

  Besides, I wanted my jacket back.

  “Does it need to be dry-cleaned?” I snarked as I stood to greet her.

  “Well, my cats have been sunning themselves on it for weeks, but it’s your call.”

  “Hmph. Let’s go.” I kissed her cheek before grabbing my jacket and heading for the door. “See you in an hour, Talia.”

  “Bye, handsome. Oh, hang on!” Talia shouted.

  When I turned back she pushed a ten-dollar bill into my hand. “Take your time at lunch, but on your way back, get let me a latte. I feel my Monday afternoon slump coming on. Get yourself something too.”

  I stuffed the money in my pocket. How the mighty had fallen. I’d gone from working among the most important pieces of art in the world to being a glorified assistant and coffee go-getter.

  “You got it,” I replied with a tight smile.

  Marley waited until we were seated at a café near my office to return to her original question.

  “Are you gonna jump the sexy Irish dude or what already?”

  I stabbed at my salad and held my fork in mid-air before answering. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about anything.”

  “Uh oh. Why so grumpy all of a sudden?”

  “I think I’m entering a new phase in the same old funk. I’ve got to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.”

  Marley’s eyes sparked with instant excitement. She dabbed at her red-stained lips with her napkin then reached across the table and squeezed my hand. Her bracelets jangled noisily as she spoke.

  “I’ve got news for you. If the job doesn’t come through with Dante, there’s a new position coming up at the museum I think you are more than qualified for.”

  “Office runner?” I joked.

  “No, dummy. My job.”

  My brow creased in confusion. “You’re leaving?”

  Marley released my hand and shrugged. “I had a second interview at a small gallery in Portland and I’m seriously thinking of taking it. If they offer, of course.”

  “Portland. That’s so…far.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s a short plane ride away. It’s beautiful there. Great food, great people. And I’m ready for a change.”

  “In another state,” I said in a monotone voice.

  Marley rolled her eyes. “Don’t get weepy, big guy. I didn’t get the job yet. But if I do, my current position could be yours. The pay is the same and I don’t do anything you couldn’t do in your sleep, but you’d be back in the museum.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Well? Aren’t you excited?”

  I made a big production of chewing and swallowing my food to bide myself some time. Honestly, I wasn’t excited. At all.

  “I’d miss you.”

  “Same here, but think of all the fun new things we’d get to do together when you visit me in Portland. New galleries, new restaurants. And if you took my job, you’d be back in your happy place, haunting the halls of your favorite museum with Matisse and Diebenkorn. Honestly, I’m sure Dante’s going to hire you anyway, so it’s a moot point. When was the last time you talked to him?”

  “It’s been a few weeks, but he invited me to a new exhibit next month so yeah…I think I’m on the right track. Maybe.”

  “You don’t sound so sure. Hey, at least you know you’ve got options and you won’t be stuck in a dulls-ville real estate office after summer.”

  “Thanks. I’m excited. I am,” I assured her when she narrowed her gaze. “I’m just surprised you’re leaving.”

  “I need a change. A new city ought to be good for my lackluster love life. At least you have a hunky man to keep you company. Did I tell you I saw him the other day?” Marley asked, waggling her brow.

  “Finn?”

  “Yeah, and can I just say…day-um, that man is hot! He was with the pretty blonde you say isn’t his fiancée but was still wearing a big-ass ring. I was hoping to spy on them but he noticed me and went out of his way to say hello and generally charm the hell out of me. I thought it was pretty classy. He obviously likes you.”

  “We’re friends and he’s a nice guy. I’m not surprised he said hi.”

  “You’re just surprised he hasn’t jumped your bones, and it’s making you feel insecure. Don’t bother telling me I’m wrong,” she said, holding up her right hand like a stop sign. “Stop waiting for life to fall into place, Josh. Sometimes you have to be the one to grab it by the balls and make it happen.”

  “So you’re saying I should grab his balls?”

  “Often.”

  We giggled like a couple of teenage girls. When a server came by to refill ou
r water glasses, I nudged her foot under the table and smiled.

  “You’re going to conquer the world, Marley. Starting with Portland. I can’t wait to see what you do.”

  “Don’t make me ruin my mascara. I’m not going anywhere yet,” Marley replied with a watery grin. “But I feel the same about you. Go get what you want. It’s all there for you. Life, love, job…make it happen.”

  Twenty minutes later, I pushed open the door of Finn’s office and asked his secretary to let him know I was there. I admired the Miro and Chagall prints on the walls as I paced from one end of the beautifully appointed reception area to the other. They popped against the lush dark paneling and modern furniture. On my second trip around the space, I stopped and glanced at my watch. My hour was up in ten minutes and I still had to make a trip to Starbucks for Talia. Our buildings were close but I didn’t have much time to do more than say hi and…what? If showing up unannounced at Finn’s office was my idea of “making it happen,” it was no wonder he was keeping things platonic.

  Fuck. This was stupid. I had to get out of here. I hurried to the door but a paw on my elbow kept me in place.

  “Where are you going?”

  I let out a weak half laugh as I turned to face a surprised-looking Finn. “Hi. Nowhere. I was just popping by to ask about your day.”

  Finn snorted with amusement then crossed his arms and gave me a thorough once-over. It took everything I had not to squirm ’cause wow…that line might have been my lamest ever.

  “My day just got better. Come inside, love.”

  I gulped. Love. That word in his low, sexy voice was always my undoing. I wondered if he’d used it to throw me off guard. I doubted it. It was probably a cultural thing. Maybe all Irish called their friends “love.” Maybe they said it to people they thought were batshit crazy to calm them down before they called the loony bin. Maybe—

  Finn stopped at his secretary’s desk for a brief round of introductions then he ushered me into the adjoining room and closed the door behind him.

  “Damn, this view is insane!” I moved to the floor-to-ceiling wraparound windows to peer at the incredible panorama from his corner suite. The top floor vista of the Bay Bridge and Berkeley were worthy of a postcard. Kostas Realty was in a great building a block away, but it had nothing on this place. “What’s your company called? I don’t think I ever asked.”

  “Gallagher.”

  My heart skipped a beat when I turned. Finn perched on the corner of his massive executive desk with his arms crossed. He looked slightly disheveled with the sleeves of his crisp white oxford shirt rolled up and his tie loosened. I wanted to undo the second button on his collar…and the third. My gaze traveled over his broad shoulders, taking in every curve of muscle in his biceps and those deliciously hairy forearms. I gulped and licked my lips. My dick was begging for some breathing room. Not happening, I reminded myself as I pasted a smile on my face.

  “Your name. Right. That’s clever.”

  “Thanks. What can I help you with?”

  God, so many things, I thought. All of them x-rated. I cleared my throat and went with a safer response.

  “Well…um. You know, I have a test tomorrow and uh, I think I could use some extra help with vocab. I was going to call but I happened to walk by your building, so…”

  “So here you are,” he finished in that low sexy brogue. The accompanying lopsided, devilish grin made me dizzy. “I’d be happy to help you. Are you free tonight? We could meet at that bistro on the waterfront you mentioned you wanted to try.”

  “Oh. Okay. What time?”

  “I can be done by six tonight. I’ll meet you in the bar and—”

  “Why aren’t we having sex?” I blurted.

  Finn’s eyes widened comically. He looked speechless but it didn’t last long. Surprise was instantly replaced by humor. He threw his head back and laughed. And just like the bird poop episode yesterday, once he started he couldn’t stop. I observed him for a moment, fascinated by the sudden change in atmosphere. I was so caught up with my own angst that I hadn’t noticed how tense and tightly wound he was when he first closed the door until I witnessed his shoulders drop and the aura of stress dissipate. I was glad to see him relax, but I also felt ridiculous. My outburst was extraordinarily immature. Even for me.

  “Well, I—”

  I waved my hand, hoping the gesture might erase the last couple of minutes from memory. “Nah, I was kidding. I’ll see you at the bar at six. I have no idea what the name of that place was. If you get there first, text me. See ya, Finn.”

  He grabbed my hand and tugged me back until we were standing toe to toe. The contrast of his expensive Italian loafers and designer suit pants to my brown boots and standard khakis was jarring. I probably looked like one of his employees or a messenger boy. What I didn’t look like was his equal. Or his lover.

  No wonder we hadn’t renewed our sexy times between or on top of the sheets. Becoming friends had changed our dynamic in a way that obviously made it difficult for him to balance physical attraction. Perhaps it seemed like a paranoid assumption to base on footwear, but I knew I was on to something. If I had the money to spare, I’d bet Finn was petrified that I’d equate sex and friendship with a label…like boyfriend.

  Unfortunately, he was probably correct. I felt like a fool. I couldn’t un-ask my question, but I could get us back on track. He looked like he needed a friend more than a lover and hey, there was nothing wrong with my right hand.

  I reached out impulsively to trace the time-worn creases next to his eyes. “You look exhausted. You have a grueling job, don’t you?”

  He studied me intently, still smiling like everything was oh-so normal. “Some days are harder than others, but yes…I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  His tone was light but it smacked of someone selling serenity a little too hard. I cocked my head as I lowered my hand. “I see it now. I’m sorry. I’ve been a selfish bastard and a pretty craptastic friend. I don’t know much about your job or what your days are like. I should have called first and I certainly shouldn’t have asked about…whatever. I apologize. If you’re still interested, I’d love to meet you for a drink. No French lessons though. You can just tell me about your day.”

  Finn smiled. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long while. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Call me later.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I want to tell you about my day,” he said in a raspier than usual voice.

  “Uh, well, I don’t have much time now but—”

  “I’ll be brief. I woke up this morning and immediately thought about you. I showered, dressed, ate breakfast and drank more coffee than anyone should and still…all I could think about was you.” The words sounded promising, but his melodic tone confused me.

  “What about me?”

  “The seagull incident had me in stitches most of the morning and—”

  “Okay. I see where we’re going with this,” I huffed. “I gotta run.”

  Finn tugged on my belt loop and drew me close so I stood between his legs. “Not yet. I’m trying to make a point here.”

  “Hurry it up. I’m a busy guy too. I’ve got a Starbucks run to make, for cryin’ out loud.”

  He chuckled appreciatively. “My point is…I’m glad you’re here. You make me laugh and at the moment, that means more to me than a pot of gold. My job is stressful. My life is stressful. I have three multi-million-dollar deals with hard deadlines to meet, an office in Chicago to open, employees who need my time and resources, and on top of all that…a dear friend who’d like me to be her baby daddy.”

  “You win. That beats the stress of an afternoon caffeine run any day.”

  “It’s not a contest. I look forward to you, Josh. You’re a breath of fresh air and”—he snaked his arm around my waist to hold me in place in what was by far the “sexiest” move he’d made on me since the morning we woke up together in my bed—“
I’d like nothing more than to fuck you over my desk but—”

  “Then do it.”

  This time he didn’t recover so quickly. He opened his mouth and froze for a second. And then he smiled. It was no ordinary smile. It was a slow-moving roguish grin I associated with dangerous types who never backed away from a challenge. On their terms.

  “Do it? How shall we ‘do it’? Are you set on the over-the-desk scenario or would you rather do it against the wall, on the conference table, or facing that window?”

  “Window?” I squeaked.

  “Sure. Hands against the glass with me behind you and the city below. At forty stories, it would be like fucking on a cloud. Or do you want to sit on my lap and ride me on that chair?” he asked nonchalantly, gesturing to his massive desk chair. “No pressure, but I’m on a bit of a tight schedule myself. I have fifteen minutes until my next conference call.”

  The spark of humor in his eyes was my out. He was giving me a cue like any great straight man in a comedy act would. Defusing potentially uncomfortable situations with a laugh was my specialty. He was pitching the softball that would allow me to make my proposition a joke. Possibly at his own expense. And for some reason, that turned me on more than the idea of having a quickie in his office.

  “The chair,” I replied.

  His nostrils flared appreciatively when I nodded slowly then flattened my palm over his crotch. He was hard as a rock. I rubbed his length through his suit pants with my right hand and unbuckled his belt with my left. Finn watched me with a sort of transfixed expression like he wasn’t sure this was really happening. I unzipped the fabric and slipped my fingers under the elastic of his boxer briefs and freed his rigid member. He hissed at the sensation and grabbed my wrist.