Straight Up
Page 1
Table of Contents
Books by K. Evan Coles and Brigham Vaughn
Title Page
Legal Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademark Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
A Note from the Authors
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About the Authors
Pride Publishing books by K. Evan Coles and Brigham Vaughn
Single Books
Wake
Calm
The Speakeasy
With a Twist
Extra Dirty
Behind the Stick
By Brigham Vaughn
Boston Seasons
Third Time’s the Charm
By K. Evan Coles
Anthologies
Right Here, Right Now: The Soldier Next Door
The Speakeasy
STRAIGHT UP
K. EVAN COLES AND BRIGHAM VAUGHN
Straight Up
ISBN # 978-1-83943-045-9
©Copyright K. Evan Coles and Brigham Vaughn 2020
Cover Art by Erin Dameron-Hill ©Copyright June 2020
Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Pride Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2020 by Pride Publishing, United Kingdom.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.
Pride Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.
Book four in The Speakeasy series
Love, served straight up.
Malcolm Elliott has been keeping secrets. Helping his mom through a financial crisis has nearly emptied both his bank account and his kitchen cupboards, despite his thriving career with Corporate Equality Campaign. Malcolm is also bothered by his inability to tell the most important people in his life that he identifies as gray ace.
Stuart Morgan has a secret of his own. Though years have passed since the tattooed chef fled the Mormon Church in Utah for New York, he’s never truly come to terms with the kink that ruined that rigid but outwardly perfect life. Experience has also taught Stuart that keeping his love of lacy things under wraps is safer than telling the truth.
After Malcom’s boss, Carter, hires Stuart’s restaurant to cater a gala fundraising event, the strait-laced Malcolm is thrown together with badass biker Stuart. Despite their differences and a couple of false starts, the men discover they work well together and a friendship quickly forms.
As Malcolm’s feelings for Stuart deepen, his sexuality awakens, but he remains tight-lipped about his problems. And though Stuart grows more and more attached to Malcolm, he remains fearful of confessing his kink.
When both of their secrets are finally exposed, they find themselves at a crossroads in which they must choose between playing it safe or finally coming clean to the person they love.
Dedication
For my husband, who is patient with my endless scribbling.
For my son, who makes me laugh every single day and gives me all kinds of fun ideas.
For the people in and around my life who inspire me, let me be weird and make me feel brave.
And for Brigham Vaughn, who endures my questions and rants, indulges my humor, and is nearly always willing to put pen to paper when our stars align. Frustrating as the co-writing can sometimes be for both of us, it’s a blast.
—K. Evan Coles
This book is for my friends who were patient when I was too busy writing or editing to spend time with them. For the people who cheered me on and had faith in my writing long before I did. For my parents, who are the best patrons of the arts a writer could ask for.
And, mostly, for K. Evan Coles, who got me into reading and writing gay romance in the first place. I wouldn’t be here without you! It’s been a wonderful—and occasionally frustrating—journey. There’s no one I would rather have done it with.
—Brigham Vaughn
K. and Brigham would also like to thank their patient beta readers: Shell Taylor, Rebecca Spence, Allison Hickman, Jayme Yesenofski and Sally Hopkinson. You’ve helped us mold six books over the years. Truly, we could not have done it without you. Also, our thanks to Lisa Bailey and Melissa Johnson for helping us choose the name of one of the cutest dogs we’ve dreamed up.
And the speakeasy crew who just won’t stop talking—Jesse, Kyle, Will, Malcolm, Carter and Riley. Those boys have got a whole lot more company these days.
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Aperol: Davide Campari-Milano S.p.A.
White Wedding: Billy Idol
Don Julio: Tequila Don Julio, S.A. de C.V.
I Kissed a Girl: Katy Perry, Lukasz Gottwald, Max Martin, Cathy Dennis
Indiana Jones: George Lucas
Jell-O: Kraft Foods Group, Inc.
All of Me: John Stephens, Toby Gad
Judge Dredd: John Wagner, Carlos Ezquerra
Lexus: Toyota Motor Corporation
Lyft: Lyft, Inc.
Netflix: Netflix, Inc.
Pour Some Sugar on Me: Joe Elliott, Robert John, “Mutt” Lange, Phil Collen, Steve Clark, Rick Savage
Suzuki: Suzuki Motor Corporation
Tesla: Tesla, Inc.
The X-Files: Twentieth Century Fox Television, Inc.
Chapter One
March 2016
Malcolm Elliott stared at the contents of his mother’s refrigerator. Or lack of contents, to be more accurate. His mom, Kim, lived alone. Surely, she needed more nutrients than could be gotten from cottage cheese, celery, baby carrots and bottled water. Knowing the pantry would be similarly bare, he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Mom,” he said, “you need to tell Jack and me when you’re running low on food.”
“I’m not running l
ow, silly.” Kim flashed a smile when Malcolm glanced her way. “My doctor said my cholesterol was on the high side at my last appointment, so I cut back on junk food.”
Malcolm watched her for a beat, unnerved by her ability to lie with a straight face. He doubted his mom’s cholesterol levels were off. She’d eaten well for years and, at fifty-seven, was more active than women half her age. The half marathons she ran several times a year were a testament to her discipline.
Diet and lack of exercise weren’t a problem. Kim’s wallet was, though, because it was just as empty as the refrigerator.
“Good thing all the stuff I picked up is healthy.” Malcolm stepped back so the refrigerator door swung shut and turned to the counter where he’d set several bags of groceries. Kim moved to Malcolm’s side and reached for one of the bags.
“I love you for doing this for me, Malcolm, but I wish you wouldn’t. I’m capable of shopping for myself. Not to mention you came all the way out here on your birthday!”
Malcolm’s tension ratcheted up several more degrees. “I don’t mind. I like seeing you on my birthday. I like grocery shopping, too.”
His mom had always hated grocery shopping, but these days, she avoided it for very sobering reasons. Not that Kim or her sons spoke about those reasons. That she’d been laid off and never told anyone. Burned through her entire savings before Malcolm had accidentally found her out. And that even with the part-time job she’d found at a local college, she was so broke her sons had to support her.
Malcolm and Jackson bought her groceries. They filled her gas tank and paid her utility bills, as well as tackling the endless list of small repair jobs that needed doing around the old house. Malcolm didn’t mind doing any of those things. He loved his mother and would do anything for her. He just wished he knew how the hell to help her get out of the financial hole she’d dug for herself, short of handing over the bigger part of his paychecks. He really, really wished he had a way to call her out on her epic levels of denial. Malcolm knew he needed to draw a line in the sand with his mom, but he simply couldn’t seem to get there. He couldn’t bear the idea of shaming her.
Malcolm shook himself. “I gassed up your car,” he said. “That should tide you over until Jack comes out next weekend. Unless you go driving up to Maine to see your boyfriend.”
His mother gave a delicate snort. She’d started an online relationship with a man named Scott who lived in Kennebunkport, Maine. From her descriptions, things with Scott were progressing, but they hadn’t yet arranged to meet in person.
“You know me better than that,” she said. “If Scott wants to meet, it’s on him to come to New York. I’m still a bit old-fashioned when it comes to dating IRL.”
Malcolm stopped, two boxes of spaghetti in one hand and a jar of pasta sauce in the other. “IRL, huh?”
“I know how to use Urban Dictionary too, sweetheart.” Kim tossed her honey-blonde hair at him and they shared a laugh. Her expression turned fretful when Malcolm set the boxes and jar of sauce on the counter. “Why didn’t you buy fresh tomatoes and herbs for sauce?”
“The Roma tomatoes looked a bit old,” Malcolm replied. He hadn’t looked at tomatoes, Roma or otherwise. Produce prices were higher this time of year and fresh pasta and tomatoes hadn’t fit into his grocery budget. At least not at a high-end market like Clark’s, the nearby supermarket his mother favored. He’d been tempted to visit the discount market down the road from Clark’s, but Kim disdained the place and he knew she’d spurn the food if she found out that was where Malcolm had bought it.
You’re just as bad as your mom, a voice in Malcolm’s head whispered, acting like nothing is wrong instead of dealing with the mess in your life.
“I grabbed some thyme,” he said. “You can pop some of that into the jarred sauce and dress it up. There’s a chicken and some potatoes, too, and you can use the thyme there.”
“A whole chicken?”
“Yes. A smaller one. Roast it for Jack when he comes out to visit.”
Malcolm turned toward the refrigerator with several containers of yogurt. His mother would let go of the topic if he didn’t engage. He had bigger fish to fry and they were wilder than fresh produce and jarred sauce. He waited until everything was put away before he went for broke.
“Do you have your tax documents ready?” Without looking at Kim, Malcolm headed out of the kitchen and for his father’s old office, a tiny space located off the family room. “Jack and I are sending ours in this week and I can get yours ready, too.”
“Goodness, I haven’t even thought about taxes yet.”
Malcolm halted mid-step and counted backward from five before he turned around. “Mom, Tax Day is a month from now.”
Kim rolled her eyes. “I know that. I’ve been filing taxes for longer than you’ve been alive, honey, and the date has always been the same.”
“Yeah, hah. Well, let’s do it now while I’m here and can help.”
“I appreciate that, but we both know you’ve got plans tonight and it’s almost four o’clock.” Kim cocked her head. “I have plans, too. My friends and I are taking Rose out for dinner, then over to a paint and sip place in Elm Park.” She grinned. “I’ve never painted under the influence before. It sounds fun.”
Malcolm’s stomach knotted. Paint and sip parties typically started at over forty dollars a head, money his mom didn’t have. Not to mention dinner and a birthday gift for Rose. “Sounds fun. You, um, have a designated driver, right?”
“Of course. Rose’s husband organized a shuttle to get us there and home. You worry too much, Malcolm. Watch out you don’t go making yourself old before your time.”
Too late.
Right or wrong, Malcolm had worried about his mom since his parents’ divorce, especially after he found out she’d lost her job. Kim had no family apart from Malcolm and Jackson. As the oldest son, Malcolm felt an obligation to support and protect his mother, even if it meant his own inconvenience. Was that more than a little dysfunctional? Maybe. Unfortunately for Malcolm, he didn’t know any other way to be.
“What time do you need to get back to the city?” Kim asked him now.
“Soon.” He felt just like a little boy as Kim stepped forward and looped her elbow through his. Any hope he’d held of talking about tax documents died. “I’m meeting the guys at Under around seven.”
“Is this the monthly party you’ve told me about?” Kim led Malcolm away from the office with measured steps. She’d never been to the speakeasy in Morningside Heights co-owned by two of Malcolm’s friends, but she delighted in his descriptions.
“No, those happen on the third Thursday of the month, barring holidays.” Malcolm hoped his smile looked natural because God knew it didn’t feel like it. Coming out here would leave him drained for days. “We’re just getting together to hang out. I’m not sure why, but we’ve never needed an excuse.”
Kim’s bright brown eyes sparkled. “Well, I’m glad. You deserve to relax, honey. You’ve been working so hard on that fundraiser.”
“Busy comes with the job. And everyone helps out, Carter included.” Malcolm worked with Carter Hamilton at Corporate Equality Campaign, an organization dedicated to ensuring the rights of LGBTQIA employees in the corporate workplace. Carter and his partner also happened to be two of Malcolm’s dearest friends. “He and Ri came up with a lead on a restaurant we may hire since the original caterer canceled, actually. I’m meeting with the chef later this week.”
“That’s great! Maybe Carter and Riley can come up with a lead on a nice girl for you, too. Or boy!” Kim threw in when Malcolm made a noise of protest. “Whatever works for you.”
“I meet people, Mom,” Malcolm murmured as they walked back into the kitchen, though guilt flared in his gut at the lie.
Of course, Malcolm met people in his day-to-day life. As Social Coordinator for Corporate Equality Campaign, meeting people was a big part of his job. Interfacing with other humans wasn’t the kind of ‘meet’ his mom was talking abo
ut, however. Kim wanted Malcolm with someone, paired up like everyone else in his life, and that wasn’t happening, no matter how many people he met.
Malcolm hadn’t been on a date in almost a year, a fact that didn’t bother him in the least. He just wished he knew how to explain that to his mom and how his own weird wiring was the cause.
In truth, Malcolm was still coming to terms with the words he’d found to describe his identity. They’d come to him by chance, really, during a conversation with Carter after that fateful last date, an evening that had held all the right components but gone nowhere, like every date Malcolm’d had in recent memory.
‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me,’ he’d said while Carter had paid for their lunch at a hot dog cart near the office.
Carter had frowned. ‘What makes you think anything is wrong with you at all?’
‘Well, for starters, I think it’s clear I’m a complete failure at dating.’
‘Do you think that because Tessa’s the one who asked you out?’
‘No, that doesn’t bother me.’ Malcolm had bitten into a dog and chewed for a moment. ‘It didn’t occur to me to ask her out at all, now that you say that.’
‘Maybe you weren’t interested in her,’ Carter had replied.
‘Maybe.’ Malcolm had sighed. ‘Tessa’s cool and I like hanging out with her and Kyle after yoga class. We had a nice time on the date, too. We saw a movie and grabbed a drink afterward, then I walked her home. But when she kissed me goodnight, it was like…nothing. Just blank. And I know I’m supposed to feel fireworks. Or something?’
Carter had smiled. ‘I don’t know about fireworks, babe. That kind of thing doesn’t happen as often as people like to think. Kisses should feel nice though, if you’re attracted to a person.’ He’d chewed for a moment and his gaze had lost focus before it sharpened again. ‘Are you attracted to Tessa, Mal? Sexually, I mean.’