by J P Barnaby
“Hitchens. Having a farewell toast? Or maybe a date?” he asked, smirking at his own joke. His girlfriend, a petite blonde barely out of her college cheerleading days, grabbed his arm.
“Matt.” She tried to pull him away. “Come on.”
Noah said nothing. Handley, ever the bully, had the ability to call in his loan. He wasn’t about to sink to trading insults with him at Olive Garden. Kyle had tensed, and Noah wasn’t sure if it was Handley’s presence or the word date.
“Nah, I’m just seeing my old friend here. Seems he shouldn’t be out spending money he doesn’t have.” Handley’s voice got louder.
“Matt,” his girlfriend said again. “You’re making an ass of yourself. Let’s go.”
“But I want—”
“My sister said let’s go,” a linebacker-sized man said from behind the girlfriend. He took a step forward, and Handley stepped back. It was good to see him cower before someone bigger and stronger.
“Fine,” he huffed and bumped a server as he passed. She dropped her tray and they hustled off. Noah noticed a man in a long-sleeved shirt and tie with an earpiece follow them.
Noah tried to smile at Kyle, but the mood had been lost.
They ate their food quietly and declined dessert, but fought over the check.
“I asked you out. It’s only right that I pay,” Noah insisted, but Kyle shook his head.
“You need the money for the store.”
“Just like Handley, telling me how and when to spend my money,” Noah huffed and sat back in his chair, arms folded. He felt like a pouty kid, but Handley had embarrassed him, reminded him how powerless he was. It hurt, and it made him angry.
“Noah, I want to pay because I care.” Kyle’s voice had softened, and he glanced around, then reached across the table to cover Noah’s hand. “Not because I think you can’t.”
Noah nodded and pushed the check toward him, shame clogging his chest.
Kyle paid in cash, leaving a modest tip, and they headed back out to the truck. Kyle followed him to the driver’s side, which was away from the restaurant. He caught Noah’s hand and turned him back.
“Thank you for the date,” Kyle said.
“You paid.”
“You asked.”
With a gentleness that made Noah ache, Kyle leaned forward and kissed him. One soft, sweet kiss, and then another. Noah put a hand on his side, and Kyle stroked Noah’s cheek. It seemed to last forever yet be over in a heartbeat. It was rural Georgia, and they weren’t about to make out in the parking lot.
“We’re going to get you the money for the store,” Kyle whispered. “Because I don’t want you to go.”
“Me either.”
They sealed their confessions with another quiet kiss.
Chapter Nineteen
“SO HOW’S the coffee thing going?”
Noah held the door for Thad. “Not well, but today was the first full day we had the station up. We had a couple people try it out. Kyle can do the thing where you make pictures in the foam, which is kinda cool.” He followed the antiques dealer into the large conference room where the Merchants Council was having their monthly meeting. He’d been told he needed to be there the first Monday of every month. They were early, but a handful of people were there already. Most of them Noah knew by sight, at least, and Thad made quick work of introducing him.
A couple of them reacted kind of strangely, with either a raised eyebrow or a “huh” expression, but most of them just said they were glad to meet him and that they were sorry to lose Charlie. From what they said, his dad had been very active in the council.
“We were hoping he’d take over as president when the next election came up,” Martha, the woman who ran the pharmacy a couple of blocks from Noah’s store, told him. “He was dedicated to the welfare of the town, which is more than I can say for our current president. Ed’s a nice guy but apparently had his spine surgically removed at a young age. He doesn’t have the oomph to stand up to… certain people, if you know what I mean.”
Noah hadn’t a clue, but he smiled faintly.
“Come on, Martha,” Thad said. “It’s not Noah’s fault he’s got James for an uncle.”
“What’s wrong with Uncle James?”
Martha’s lips thinned to an almost invisible line. “Let’s just say he doesn’t represent the majority opinion around here.”
“He wants to bring in a private prison,” another man said. He held out his hand. “Spencer Graff. Healthy Eats Health Food.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. Says that it’ll bring all kinds of jobs into the community. Which is baloney, pure and simple. I did some research, and in general, do you know how many hires the average private prison makes from the community it’s based in? Twelve. Twelve. They’ll be hiring from Atlanta and Marietta, and then they’ll go home and spend their money on stores in Atlanta and Marietta, and we won’t see a dime of it.”
“But that’s not the worst of it,” Thad told Noah. “The worst of it is that he wants to ‘rejuvenate’ the downtown area.” He used his fingers to make quotes.
“I thought they did that already.” The streets had been repaved and the new streetlights put in, and Noah was sure his dad had talked about some of the improvements the shop owners had had to make to bring their stores up to snuff.
“They did. What Montgomery wants is to tear down the whole city center and rebuild it to ‘modern’ standards.” Again with the finger-quotes.
“What?” Noah’s jaw dropped. “He what?”
“Has he offered to buy you out yet?”
Noah blinked at Martha. “I… well, we talked about it, but I haven’t given him an answer yet.”
“Well, you decide what you want to do, but just know that your daddy was completely against the idea.” Martha patted Noah’s arm. “Once James Montgomery gets his hands on even one of those storefronts, he’ll make it his life’s work to drive out everyone else and pick up the remaining stores. That’ll give him a majority on this council, with his toadies. He’ll push demolition through, and then we’re all out.”
“Yeah. He’s even graciously offered to let us rent space in the antiques mall he’s planning for out on the highway. At a significant increase from our current rents.”
“Do any of you own your own buildings?”
“Some of us do. Some of us rent from Omar Lindley, who owns a big chunk of property down there. He hates James Montgomery worse than the rest of us.”
Spencer Graff snorted. “I don’t know about that.”
Thad asked curiously, “What did your uncle offer you for the store?”
“Three hundred thousand. It’s tempting, but—”
He was treated to three gasps. “What?”
“Son, those storefronts are assessed at six hundred thousand. Three is an insult.”
Noah felt his stomach drop. Had Uncle James tried to rip him off? Was he betting on Noah being so naïve where business was concerned that he’d just jump at the chance to get out from under the responsibility?
Noah was family. How could he do that to family?
Numbly, he followed the rest of them to the table and sat down. They took roll, and as they finished, the door blew open and two men walked in, Uncle James and Mr. Handley, Matt’s father. They were laughing as though they had shared a joke. When James saw Noah, something dark flickered across his face; then he gave Noah his usual grin. “Hey, boy. Takin’ up your daddy’s reins?”
“Looks like,” Noah said. To his surprise, his voice was level and didn’t give away how shaken he felt.
The president banged the gavel and called the meeting to order.
JAKE WAS waiting anxiously when Noah got home. Noah let him out into the backyard, then poured himself a glass of tea and followed him outside. He sat on the porch steps and took a deep breath. Then he set the glass on the porch, folded himself over his arms, and lost it.
It was like James’s betrayal was the proverbial straw. Everything No
ah had been trying to suppress—his grief over his dad, his anger and guilt over losing his job, the stress of trying to run a business he had no business trying to run—it all spilled over into great, heaving sobs. Vaguely he felt Jake come and sit beside him, his cold wet nose nudging at Noah’s cheek until Noah put his arms around him and turned to cry into the thick black fur. He was shaking so hard he thought he might die of a heart attack, and wished he would, wished this were all just a horrible dream and he’d wake up back in New York, in Yeira’s dinky rent-controlled apartment, and that it would turn out that Dad wasn’t dead and Uncle James wasn’t a jerk, and there wasn’t a huge pile of debt Noah had to pay and that there wasn’t a ghost haunting his bookstore and that Kyle….
Oh, Kyle. The only good, sweet thing to come out of this whole clusterfuck.
As if summoned, a body settled on the step next to him and put his arms around Noah, a warm cheek against his and the sweet piney scent of Kyle enveloping him. He didn’t say anything, just held Noah while he wept and shook and hated everything and grieved. Mostly grieved.
It was nice that Kyle was there, but Dad wasn’t and wouldn’t ever be again. In the end it didn’t matter that he had Miss Edna and Henry and Fred the mailman and Thad and all the people in town who’d loved his dad, or even Kyle and Jake—Noah was alone.
A wracking moan shook him, and he cried harder, grief and loneliness ganging up on him and pounding him into the ground until he wanted to yell “Enough!” and have all this end.
And then warm lips brushed his ear and Kyle’s sweet voice said, “I’ve got you. Let go,” and he did, letting everything go until he lay limp and exhausted in Kyle’s arms.
He opened his eyes to see Jake watching him, fear and love in his dark eyes, and glanced up to see the same expression in Kyle’s. “Sorry,” he started to say, but his tears had clogged his throat and nothing came out but a croak.
“Shh,” Kyle said and ran his hand gently over Noah’s hair. “It’s okay.”
He cleared his throat and managed, “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
“What are you doing here? Did you hear me?”
Kyle shook his head. “No, but I wanted to see you. I knew you had that counselor meeting—”
“Merchants Council.”
“—and that you’d be home late, so when I saw Jake in the yard, I came over to see you.” He smiled gently and rubbed his cheek on Noah’s hair. “No reason. I just wanted to see you.”
“Well, you’ve seen me—basically at my worst,” Noah said ruefully.
“Did something happen at the meeting?”
Noah hesitated, then went ahead and told Kyle about it. When he got to the part about Uncle James offering him half of what the store was worth, his friend’s eyes darkened with anger. “What a, a jerk.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Noah had straightened up from his hunched-over posture while he talked, and now gave in to the urge to lean against Kyle’s shoulder. For a thin guy, Kyle was strong and solid, and Noah needed solid right then.
“What are you going to do?”
“Not sell the store, anyway.” Noah bit his lip, then looked at Kyle. “I want to fight him, I really do. I don’t think it’s right to try to trick me, and it’s rotten what he wants to do to Aster. He’s got more money than God and all he can think about is making more of it. Mr. Handley’s no better, but I expect it of him—he’s a banker, for fuck’s sake. What?”
“More money than God?”
Oh, crap. Religion again. Noah started to apologize but was shocked when Kyle burst out laughing. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!”
Whew. “That’s me, a laugh a minute. Except when things are going wrong, which they seem to always be.”
“Murphy’s Law,” Kyle said wisely.
“Huh. You know about Murphy’s Law?”
“Yes. One of my customers at the coffee cart in Chicago explained about it. He also explained about Cole’s Law.”
“What’s Cole’s Law?”
“Shredded cabbage in a vinegar dressing.” This time Kyle’s smile was huge and contagious. Noah lost it again, but this time in a good way.
It was a silly joke, but the fact that it was Kyle who told it and that he was already emotionally raw from his meltdown seemed to make it funnier than it should have been. He was crying again by the time he finished laughing, but this time they were good tears, washing away the last of his stress. He was exhausted, but sitting here on the steps with Jake’s head on his lap and Kyle’s arm around him, he felt calm for the first time in… weeks.
He turned to tell Kyle that, but his hazel eyes were dark in the shadows and his lips looked soft and inviting, and he had to kiss him, so he did. It was the first time he’d had the opportunity since the night at the Olive Garden when Matt Handley had been a dick, and he wasn’t going to think about Matt Handley right now, not when he had an armful of soft, strong Kyle instead.
Kyle who was kissing him back, moving his hands up to cup Noah’s head and hold him still. He started when Noah’s tongue touched his lips, taking their former sweet kisses into a whole other realm, but he opened his mouth and let Noah in. Noah moaned softly and ran a hand down Kyle’s spine, then drew back. “Is this okay?” he murmured.
“Oh, yes. Can we do that again?”
Noah kissed the tip of Kyle’s nose, then said, “Oh hell yeah,” and dove in for another kiss.
They didn’t do much more than that, but the tongue-tangling was really nice, and Kyle’s hands found their way under Noah’s T-shirt and hoodie, their slightly rough, callused surfaces giving Noah erotic chills. In return, Noah cupped Kyle’s rear, pulling him against Noah.
Kyle drew back, his eyes wide and dark. “You—you’re hard.”
“So are you,” Noah pointed out and leaned in to kiss Kyle’s throat. He licked Kyle’s Adam’s apple and Kyle shuddered, closing his eyes. “Oh, like that, do you?”
“I like everything you do.” Kyle’s voice was soft and shy. “But….”
Noah eased up. “But?”
“I told Miss Sarah I’d be home soon, and she worries….” He bit his lip anxiously, then cried, “I don’t want to go home yet!”
Reaching up to cup Kyle’s cheek, Noah said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I’m wiped.” He kissed him again. “Go on and git—it’s gotta be ten at least, and we both worked a full day.”
“Okay.” Kyle kissed him again and reluctantly stood up on the step and held a hand down for Noah. Then he put his arms around him, hugging him tightly.
Noah hugged him back. “Tomorrow after work. We’re going on a date, and this time it’s on me.”
“No place expensive,” Kyle warned.
“Nope. Cheap date. I promise.”
Kyle kissed him again and then patted Jake and trotted around the side of the house toward the street. Noah watched him go.
Jake nudged his hand with his cold nose, and Noah petted him as requested. Maybe he wasn’t completely alone after all.
Chapter Twenty
AS SOON as he’d closed the store Tuesday evening, Noah headed home with Jake. While the dog was eating his dinner, Noah showered and put on his nicest pair of jeans and the cashmere sweater Yeira had given him last Christmas. He’d always thought it made him look a little thinner, and it was a pleasant enough night that he didn’t need to wear a jacket. Then he got the truck out of the garage and parked it in front of Miss Sarah’s.
His phone dinged and he checked the screen.
I got a little over sixteen hundred for your furniture and stuff I knew you wouldn’t want.
Are you kidding? I didn’t have that much stuff.
No, but my new roommate didn’t have anything, so now she has a bed, dresser, and all kinds of other crap that Mommy and Daddy don’t have to go out and buy for her. He could almost hear the sarcasm in her voice.
Trust-fund kid?
Yup.
He laughed. Well, at l
east she’d be able to pay the rent.
What are you up to?
I’m going on a date.
Really? With who, the goat from up the block?
Hush, we’re not THAT far out. No, I’m going out with Kyle. He lives across the street.
So you found the only other gay man in a twenty-five-mile radius. I wonder what Grindr looks like out there.
He snorted. He couldn’t help it because he’d been wondering the same thing himself.
Hush, I have to go.
Don’t bring home anything you don’t want to share. Yeira had always been able to make him laugh. Noah shoved the phone in his pocket and jogged up to the door.
Sarah opened the door at his knock. “My, don’t you look nice, Noah! Are you and Kyle going anyplace special?”
“We’re going to a bunch of special places,” Noah said mysteriously. She laughed.
Kyle came down the stairs. Noah looked up at him, smiling, and the answering smile on Kyle’s face took Noah’s breath away. He barely heard Kyle’s goodbyes to Sarah, murmured, “See you, ma’am,” and took Kyle’s hand to lead him down the steps. Once in the truck and belted up, he let out a sigh of relief.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. That’s what’s so great. I had visions of something happening to stop us from doing this, and I wouldn’t believe it until just now.”
“Well, if you could tell me what ‘this’ is, maybe I could help.”
Noah grinned. “Well, I’m going to take you on a tour. The life and times of Noah Hitchens. Miss Sarah said you haven’t gotten out much to see the splendor that is Aster, so I thought I’d show you the sights.”
“Are there any?”
“Oh, child,” Noah said in a gravelly voice, “prepare to be amazed. Or at least amused.” He put the truck in gear and drove down into town.
“Now, you’ve seen the wonders of Sycamore Street,” Noah said as they passed the bookshop and then the grocery store where Kyle worked. “Did you ever wonder why some people still call Leroy’s the feed store?”