by Pat Henshaw
His grin tried to lasso me again, but I was onto him. I met his gaze with a frown. His eyes twinkled in response. Damn him.
“Well, I own a bunch of clubs in San Francisco, but I’ve always wanted to start a family restaurant, kinda like Chuck E. Cheese’s but not with the costumed characters.” He fucking winked at me. “I want to start a place with an Old West theme, where parents can get a great steak for a reasonable price and kids can play old-fashioned arcade games without their folks watching them the whole time. You know, where families can come and enjoy a night out.”
Okay, his idea wasn’t as flashy as he looked. I would have thought he’d want more Vegas—bright lights and pink cocktails—while he was thinking more Main Street, America. Thompson’s would be a great place for his vision if the Silver Star gourmet restaurant wasn’t nearby, feeding the rich and famous.
“Uh, yeah. You did see the place across the street, right?” I thumbed toward the Star.
He laughed, a hearty bellow of delight.
“Oh, Chef Adam de Leon won’t be challenged by my little family place. This is a big block. Our clientele won’t overlap at all.”
I was skeptical. We’d done some work for Adam, but I didn’t really know the guy very well. From what I’d gathered, the celebrity chef didn’t like to be messed with. Ever. Would he want chattering kids and cranky parents cluttering up the street in front of his place?
I shrugged. “Okay. Whatever. If you give me fifteen to thirty, I’ll have a rundown of what needs to be done and write out a preliminary cost estimate so you can make up your mind.”
He nodded as I bent my head to get an appraisal sheet and pencil from my shirt pocket.
“Oh, Ben,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away.
I glanced at him.
“Mind if we talk about this over lunch?”
“Sure, no problem.” My dick was on board even if the rest of me was wary.
“How about I meet you outside? Maybe we could drive somewhere? I bet you’ll want to try out my car.”
I shrugged again. What’d he have? A Maserati or something? Since I’d come in through the back, I hadn’t seen him drive up.
But I was more concerned about my reaction to him than his ride. Was it possible to turn gay? Is that what had happened to my brothers and it was just now catching up with me?
Damn. I didn’t know how I felt if that was the case. Maybe being gay was a family thing?
I waved to him. Then, as I got one last eyeful, I shouted a piece of advice.
“I’d lose the jacket, vest, and tie if I were you. We’re pretty laid-back around here.”
If nothing else, he wouldn’t stick out quite as much as he would in the suit. He’d certainly attract the single gay men the way he was dressed. I didn’t need… competition?
Shit, what was I thinking?
I MADE my inspection, which went quickly since I was already pretty familiar with the structure. Nothing had changed since the last potential buyer had asked for a written inspection and estimate. The place didn’t seem to have attracted any new rodents or vermin, but then it had always had its fair share.
Walking out of the gloom of the former steak house into the sunshine, I was blinded momentarily, so I couldn’t see Mitch or his fabulous ride right away. When I did, holy cow.
“What the hell is it?” I asked as I ran my hand down the front wheel well.
A souped-up Hummer, or maybe an ultramilitary vehicle on steroids, stood dominating this end of Main Street. Everything from the cab to the wheels and the lights was exaggerated, making it look more like a giant’s muscle car than anything else. Not to mention it had darkened windows and wicked grillwork. It seemed to be staring down everything in front of it, waiting for something to get in its way.
“Rhino GX. It’s special order. Made for big guys like us.” He gestured to the car. “Rita, meet Ben. Ben, this is Rita. Let’s go for a ride.”
Mitch was marginally less dressy without the tie, vest, and jacket. He’d rolled up his sleeves, but still had the winking ear stud and his full-bore grin. Yeah, he was a big guy, all right. Big all over, my dick commented with approval. I grimaced.
“I was going to get a Hummer, but I saw one of these, then sat in it, and had to have it.” He opened the driver’s side door. “You want to take her for a spin?”
Shit. Did bears crap in the woods?
“Damn straight, I’d like to drive it.”
Mitch laughed and pulled back the keys a few inches.
“Nothing’s damn straight in my car, Ben. You’re either gay as fuck or gay friendly if you want to touch my baby.”
“I’m one of the above. Possibly both. The jury’s still out,” I joked back.
He leaned over, picked up my hand, and dropped the keys into it.
“Close enough. Maybe I can influence the jury.” He wrapped his hand around mine and squeezed softly. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
Then he turned and galloped around to the passenger side and opened the door. As he slid in, he added, “I heard about this diner up in the foothills around here, someplace called the Rock Bottom Cafe that’s supposed to be pretty good. Why don’t you drive us there?”
I shook off the stunned feeling. He’d danced his spell around me and was still reeling me in.
But damn if I couldn’t get us to the Bottom in this bad girl.
I slid into the driver’s seat and realized he was right. Neither of us had to watch our heads when we were getting in, and there was room between the top of his grizzle cut and the roof. This was a car made for the big and tall guy.
I looked at him and grinned.
Yeah, okay, I could get us to the Bottom on the back roads that cried out to see this car. No problem.
2
DRIVING MITCH’S Rhino GX up to the Bottom was every good old boy’s wet dream. The thing greedily gobbled up the road. A couple of times I felt like I was holding it back with a thin piece of rope that was on the verge of breaking.
Mitch, the bastard, laughed at me the whole way.
“Let her have some head.”
“Can’t. We’re coming up on a couple of tight switchbacks. Don’t want us to go off the road before we’ve had lunch.”
“Pussy,” he whispered.
Easy enough for him to say. I was sure glad I hadn’t let him drive. We’d have been careening all over the place and probably would’ve had a lot more near misses.
I could just see my cell lighting up with calls as we passed some of my friends in their trucks. I felt them all staring at Rita as we flew by.
“You could have let her go,” he said after we parked at the Bottom.
My hands were shaking from exhilaration. My zillion-dollar smile had to be glowing. Fuck. A guy could come just from driving this baby.
“Whatever,” I mumbled, because I really didn’t have any words at all. I had no native language at that point. I was cruising on the blissful release of having danced with Rita.
As we rounded the corner of the parking lot and headed for the front door, my brother Connor nearly bumped into me.
“What the fuck is that thing, Ben?” He was practically panting as he took in Rita.
“Well, damn me. There are two of you beauties,” Mitch whispered close to my ear.
“Yeah, well. Mitch O’Shea, this is my younger brother, Connor. Connor, Mitch.”
They stared for a split second before Mitch thrust out his hand and Con grabbed it.
“Hey, nice to meet you. What kind of car is it?”
They stood much too close, in my opinion, as Mitch listed Rita’s specs.
Not that I was jealous or protective or anything. I mean, Mitch had said he was gay, and Con definitely was. So they were a perfect match, right?
Are you kidding? my dick sneered.
My gut screamed that Con was encroaching, which was really weird. It wasn’t like I had any real designs on Mitch. I mean, I’m straight, even though I was
between women and didn’t really feel like hunting down another one at the moment.
So what if I was attracted to Mitch? He was a good-looking guy. I had a lot of good-looking friends.
True, none of them made me want to run my hands all over them, though. Which was beside the point, right?
“So you’re here for lunch?” Con asked Mitch.
I nodded, but Con didn’t acknowledge me.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, staring at Mitch.
Couldn’t he tell he was the third wheel at this party?
I shrugged, and Mitch nodded. I had no clue what the nod meant.
Lorraine, the Bottom’s co-owner, latched on to us near the hostess stand, scooped up three menus, and said over her shoulder, “Right this way.”
Connor was having lunch with us, then.
“Let me give you a quick overview about the roadhouse, Mitch. Then you’ll have some basic info to think about. Okay?” This was a working lunch, right? So I’d best be acting businesslike.
Mitch nodded, and Con, fortunately, figured out what was going on and shut the fuck up.
After we ordered, I walked Mitch through the building’s long list of minuses and its one plus—it was a sturdy old bugger. He told me he’d get back to me about what he was going to do. I had a feeling he’d already decided and was going to call the Realtor to make an offer once we were back in town. You don’t often find guys dancing around like crazy idiots if they don’t already have their minds made up.
As we ate, I watched Mitch and Con chat. I sat there and mentally took notes on how gay guys flirt. If nothing else, I guess I could chalk lunch up as a learning experience.
RIGHT BEFORE we got dessert, Mitch asked Con what guys did around here for fun. Nobody mentioned the missing “gay” before the word “guys,” but we all knew it was there.
Con told him about Stonewall Saloon with its gay owner and bartender as well as a couple of clubs in a fifty-mile radius.
I thought they’d be off on another of their shared experiences discussions, but Mitch surprised the crap out of me by asking what I did for fun. I’d given up on learning how to flirt with a man and had switched to thinking about Rita and the drive up here, as well as the rest of my stops for the day. I was buried so deep in thought I had to ask him to repeat his question.
“Me? What I do for fun?”
Yup, I sounded like I was loose a screw or two.
Mitch smiled as if he found my reaction funny.
“Uh, well, Con already told you about Stonewall. It’s not just a gay bar but more of an everybody bar.” I scratched my head as I thought. “Well, except women. Not a whole lot of them there. You have to go….”
Yeah, right. Like Mitch was interested in where to go to pick up girls. Con was staring at me with a puzzled frown.
“Uh, well, anyway. Um, I’m mostly a country boy. Even more than my brothers.” I shifted in my chair. My hands and feet felt too big and too in the way. “I like stuff like fishing, hunting, camping—stuff like that.”
Mitch had brightened at my list and seemed to be sitting a little closer to me, maybe even leaning in.
“You like to go camping?” He made it sound like a special treat to sleep outdoors. “How about canoeing or kayaking or rafting? Do you like those too?”
“Are you kidding?” Con asked and snorted. “If you can do it outside, Ben’s your man. He’s done it all. And actually liked it. Right, Ben?”
I nodded even though my face was getting hot. I didn’t know why I was blushing. I liked to do all of that, as well as skiing, motocross, swimming, and a whole bunch of other stuff. Only outdoor activities I wasn’t partial to were birdwatching or counting wildlife. Those I left to people who didn’t like to get dirty.
“Are you any good, Ben?”
Mitch’s curiosity seemed odd. What the hell did he care? It wasn’t like we were going to bond or anything over any of it.
Con butted in before I could answer. “I hate the outdoors, but if I had to go, I can’t think of a better person to be with.” Con’s compliment took me by surprise. “Ben knows the area around here like the back of his hand. He should take you out sometime. Then you’d see what I mean.”
He stopped and shot me a fucking “got you” grin. But he wasn’t finished.
“You know, if you’re going to be here this weekend, there’s a rally on Saturday. You could tag along as Ben’s navigator.” He turned to me with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m sorry, bro, I can’t do it. I promised both Monique’s and the Bottom extra desserts ’cuz this weekend’s supposed to be so busy for them.”
Con’s smirk said “you can thank me later” even though he knew I probably wouldn’t be in the thanking mood.
Mitch brightened and turned to me.
“What’s a rally?”
With a quick glare at Con, I explained it was a car competition of sorts. A race that wasn’t a race, exactly.
In the back of my mind, I tried to figure out what Con was doing. He acted like he was setting me up on a date, but that couldn’t be right. Could it?
Mitch stared at me for a few seconds, then at Con.
“You know, I think I’d like to go with you, Ben. I’d like that a lot.” Finally he settled his gaze on me and grinned. “You’ve got a date.”
Now I knew I’d turned brick red, and my ability to speak had left the building. What the fuck had just happened?
WE ATE our pie, a pie Con, who’s a damn good pastry chef, had brought in with a bunch of other desserts. Bud, the Bottom’s owner, used to be the baker, but he’d hired Con when the cafe got so popular.
“This is great,” Mitch growled, almost licking his plate. “You ever think about moving to the city, Connor, I’d hire you in a second for my dessert and music club.”
My brother looked really interested, which took me by surprise since I thought he was happy here in Stone Acres.
It took us a while to get out of the Bottom, what with the parade of people who stopped me to talk about construction projects or to be introduced to Mitch so they could ask about his ride.
By the time we were ready to head back to town, I’d pretty much resigned myself to hanging on and praying that we got back safely. I could tell Mitch wanted to try his hand at guiding Rita down the foothills road.
But he surprised me again as he tossed the keys my way after unlocking the doors.
“Here you go. Get us back without scratching her if you can.” Then he looked at me and gave me a slow, sexy grin. “Prove your brother right about how trustworthy you are as a driver. My life is in your hands.”
What could I say? I got us back to the construction company office in one piece.
3
FIRST THING the next morning, Mitch showed up at the Behr office and said he’d put in a bid for the steak house. He was pretty sure he’d be buying it, so he wanted us to know he’d be needing our services. He also wanted to find a good interior designer in Stone Acres.
I hooked him up with Fredi Zimmer, our local legend, the guy who’d first made the town council realize its little straight-white-men Shangri-la was about to crumble.
“My, my, my! Who have we here, Ben?” Fredi clung to Mitch’s handshake like he’d never let go.
If Fredi weren’t married, I would have been worried about Mitch—or Fredi, I’m not sure which. As it was, I just smirked at Mitch’s startled look and, God help me, winked at the big guy. Now Mitch looked slightly amused, which made me break out laughing.
When I got myself back together, I introduced them and left them to iron out the particulars of Mitch’s vision while I went back to work on other projects and finished some vital ordering.
BY MIDAFTERNOON, I’d rocketed my way through my to-do list and was more or less caught up. My stomach was grumbling, and I was trying to figure out where to go for a late lunch.
Just as I was deciding to walk over to the new sandwich shop, Mitch strolled into the office.
“Let’s go eat. I’ve got to
decompress after talking to Fredi. You should have warned me about his energy and his motormouth.”
I snickered as Mitch gave me an evil glance.
“Okay. This’ll make up for your whirlwind morning. I’ll take you to the café where Con’s the chief baker.”
Mitch’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, it’s a deal. A piece of your brother’s pie or cake will definitely cheer me up if they’re as good as they were yesterday.”
He bounced to his feet as my heart dropped. He perked up much too quickly when I mentioned Con’s name. It wasn’t fair. Mitch’d come over here to the office in an almost pissy mood, and the thought of my brother had brightened him up.
Wait. Why the fuck did I care?
Who knew?
Life wasn’t playing fair. When Mitch threw off his downer, it had landed on me and squelched my excitement about eating with him.
Monique’s Bakery and Café overflowed with a bunch of my friends and acquaintances. There went any hope that Mitch and I’d be sitting without interruption. Not only that, we’d driven up in Rita, which was like arriving on a parade float.
As I answered questions about the car, Mitch hooked up with Con, and they were seated. When I looked up, they were having an intimate discussion. Since I’d obviously been elevated in my friends’ eyes after getting out of Rita, I kept answering questions. Mitch and Con were sitting close together, their heads bent toward each other.
“I’ll be in the city from this afternoon until Friday night,” I caught Mitch telling Con. Mitch reached into his shirt pocket and handed Con a card. “If you can get away, phone me and we’ll do something. I’ll give you a tour. We’ll talk.”
I asked myself what I’d expected as I sat down. Con was an out-and-proud gay man who’d met a dynamic gay guy from the city. I was a fucking matchmaker was what I was. So why’d that depress me? I didn’t have a clue.
“Sorry about that.” I waved a hand to the last guy I’d talked to. “Did you guys order yet?”