by Fiona Archer
Viri shook her head. “Don’t look now, but you might want to duck.”
“What?” Matthew said.
“Hi, Daddy,” Tyler said, draping his arm around Matthew’s shoulders and dropping a kiss on his temple.
“I’m not your Daddy,” Matthew said. “Go on, scoot.” He shrugged away from Tyler in irritation.
But Tyler stood behind him, his arms draped around his neck. “You sure you don’t want me to stay over tonight? You seemed like you did terrible on the test.”
“I said scoot. Go find some other old guy to play with.” Matthew stood up, pushing Tyler away from him gently.
“Like that one?” Tyler said, pointing at Grady, standing in the open doorway to the street. “No thanks.” He stood up and walked away.
Matthew stared at the door. Tyler was right. Grady had come in, seen him and Tyler, and turned back toward the exit. Matthew walked rapidly through the obstacle course of chairs and sofas to the front door, but Grady was gone.
“Grady?” he shouted. “Grady!” He stepped up his pace, looking around the Promenade. But Grady was nowhere to be seen.
“Damn it,” he muttered. “I screwed up again.” He turned back toward the Brass Lamp, shoulders slumped.
“Or not,” Grady said as he stepped out from behind one of the potted plants in front of the offices across the Promenade.
“You’re here!” Matthew exclaimed.
“I am,” Grady allowed.
“I saw you come into the Lamp. Why’d you leave?”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” Grady said.
“I want to get to know you better.” Matthew walked closer.
“Then why invite me to dinner with your boyfriend?” Grady pointed at the window.
“Tyler? He’s not my boyfriend. He’s the Lamp’s twink mascot,” Matthew scoffed.
“So you don’t want to give him a kiss?”
Matthew could see the tremble in Grady’s lips now, and he wanted to soothe them. “I don’t want to give that to him. But I want to know you better. I want you to whisper the words you write in my ear as I lie beside you. I want to understand how you write those passages I want to drown in. I want to know who Grady Prince really is—why he has a little bookshop on his front lawn.”
Grady lifted his fingers to Matthew’s lips. “This feels so one-sided. I’m sorry I was an asshole a couple of nights ago. Let’s pick up from before it happened.”
“Sure.”
“What degree are you working toward?”
Matthew kissed the fingers before leaning back to speak. “Library science. Most of it’s online, because I couldn’t get into the program through USC.”
Grady let his hand drop. “Is your whole study group future librarians?”
“No, they’re mostly in my history class. We all study and help each other out.” Matthew reached out to grab his hand. “Come back and I’ll introduce you to Viri, at least.”
Grady shook his head. “Look, why don’t you come to my house tomorrow night? I’ll grill us some steak and potatoes, and we’ll get to know each other better.” He pulled Matthew’s hand up to his lips and left a kiss.
Matthew’s eyes followed his hand up to Grady’s lips. “May I have a kiss before you go? Like, more than just on my hand? I’ll understand if you say no…”
Grady leaned in to leave a soft, succulent kiss on Matthew’s mouth. His eyes closed. The breeze grazed over his empty lips, and Matthew opened his eyes to no one.
Grady
There was a knock at the door. Grady stared at it, half-hoping he’d imagined it. The knock came again.
Here goes nothing.
He opened the door and smiled when he saw Matthew, holding a rose and a bottle of white wine. He opened the screen door. “Come in.”
“I wasn’t sure what went with steak, so I brought my favorite.” Matthew handed him the bottle. “Oh, and this rose.”
“Thank you,” Grady said, taking both from him. “Follow me. I’ll get the steaks on the grill.”
Matthew followed him through the house into the kitchen, where Grady put the bottle on the counter, picked up a wooden board with steaks on it, and went out to the grill. Grady placed the rose on the patio table and lifted the silver lid of the built-in barbecue.
The smell of the steaks hitting the grill was intoxicating, and Grady smiled. He turned around, picked up the rose, and motioned for Matthew to follow. “Let’s get this in water and start on your wine.” He held out his hand for Matthew to grab. It took half a second, and both men entered the kitchen together.
“Take a seat. I’ll pour.” Grady opened a cabinet full of wine glasses. “I think we use this small wide glass for Chenin Blanc, and save yours for later.” Grady pulled a different bottle from the refrigerator, opened it, and poured wine into two glasses. “Here you go. Do you mind sitting out by the grill?”
“Not at all.” Matthew followed him back outside. “You know, you move the same way you write.”
“Clumsily?” Grady turned to the steaks.
“No, beautifully. Gracefully.” Matthew cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I’m surprised you don’t have a pool.”
“It’s too much upkeep. I barely have time to keep the hot tub maintained.” Grady pointed to the large '80s-era hot tub.
“Oh, nice.”
“My father put it in. I guess he thought it would save his marriage.” He glanced at the steaks and sipped wine. “It didn’t, and now it’s all mine. One big eyesore to remember him by.”
“Why do you keep it?” Matthew asked.
“Because as much as I hated that asshole, it really feels good when I’m tired out.” It was Grady’s turn to change the subject. “How was study group last night?”
“I think I figured out the Dewey Decimal system, it’d been confusing me, and it was from someone who wasn’t even in my class. She used to work in the library in high school.” Matthew guzzled the wine.
“You don’t have to get drunk,” Grady cautioned. “Slow down. We’ll have red with dinner.”
“I’m not getting drunk,” Matthew protested. “It’s just—okay, when I’m nervous, I drink more than I should.” He set the glass on the table.
“Why are you nervous?” Grady turned back to the grill. “Oh, and how do you like your steak?”
“Medium, closer to rare,” Matthew said.
“Okay, then they’re about finished.” Grady turned back. “In the kitchen, on the counter near the fridge, is a big blue plate. Can you get it for me?”
“Sure thing.” Matthew jogged into the kitchen. He was limping a little as he came back out. “Here you go.”
“Thank you. Did you pull something when you went into the kitchen?” Grady put the steaks on the plate, shut everything off, picked up his glass and the plate, and headed inside.
“Old work injury,” Matthew admitted. “It’s part of why I’m back in school.”
White wine turned to red wine in larger glasses, and the candle Grady lit on the table melted to a stub. Grady was pulling out two small bottles of seltzer for them as he suggested they sit in the den to relax.
“Did you see the book I left for you?” Matthew asked as they sat on the long couch behind the coffee table.
“I did. Don’t you remember I showed up at the Brass Lamp? Did that bar, uh…coffee shop, have a bookstore in it?” Grady asked.
“It’s not a bookstore. I think it’s a library, but I never asked. We love it because the tables are huge, and we can study there late into the night. Reminds me of all-night bullshit sessions at the firehouse.”
“A fireman?” Grady shook his head. “Well, I guess that explains the dog.”
“It’s a family thing. All the men in my family were firemen. But I’m tired of it, and trust me, a broken leg is the pits to recover from. It’s why I’m racing to get my degree, so I can quit.”
“What’ll you do with a library degree?” Grady prodded.
“I’m still not su
re if I want to find a curating job or go into archival work. I’m loving the studying, and my senior project has been a lot of fun.”
“What’s the project?”
“Bookmobiles. They’ve been around forever, and there are still a few in Northern California that go out into the smaller towns, up near the Oregon border.”
“Really? Sounds fun. Interesting that we’re both involved with books.” Grady grinned.
“I’ve been checking out your small bookstore forever,” Matthew confessed.
“The one out front?” Grady leaned across Matthew’s lap to place his bottle on the coffee table. “Whoops!” He grabbed at Matthew as he slid on the leather couch, his head suddenly spinning. “If we had more wine tonight, I could have blamed it on that.”
Matthew’s hand slid over his hair, down his shoulder, to end at his hand, which he brought up to his lips. “I’ve been trying to meet you, too. I’ve been going to your mom’s bookstore and then her kiosk on the Promenade. I have read Prince Bookshop books for years. After Einstein Intersection, which I read repeatedly, I searched through her shelves for other books you’d read and recommended by adding your name.” The kisses continued up Grady’s hand to his elbow. Lips grazed his shoulder, and firm arms lifted him. “Do you want to sit in the Jacuzzi?”
“The water might be nice, but you didn’t bring a bathing suit,” Grady said.
“I hoped that we didn’t need suits in your backyard.” Matthew lifted Grady’s shirt off. “Do we?”
Grady was suddenly aware of his body—his older body, his graying hair—and then what Matthew had said got through. Matthew wanted more with him. Wanted to be with him, to see him, to… Oh, this is what that feels like. Grady peeled Matthew’s T-shirt away as they stood up. “I better get that water bubbling and get some warmth for us.”
“You’re getting me hot,” Matthew said. “I’m way past warm.”
“Follow me.” Grady was unsteady on his feet, and Matthew caught him. They turned, and their lips grazed. “Stop for a second. I really want to kiss you more, but I want to hold you close—all of you.” He led Matthew back outside again.
He headed to the wall, turned on the motor, and pulled the top off, flipped a switch, and a sea foam light lit the blue and white marbled tub. Matthew looked in. “Ooh, '80s flashback.”
Matthew
Matthew looked back at Grady, now standing in his green and blue plaid boxers, shrugging sheepishly. And Matthew knew at that instant why he had fallen for Grady Prince. He was a normal guy. He wasn’t model sexy; he was a man who had a small paunch. Someone who didn’t need to work out, but just be himself.
Matthew wanted him even more now. He closed the distance and shucked his pants, exposing orange and black briefs. His left hand connected with the wall behind Grady, and he pressed his full frame against him. His lips fell on Grady’s neck where they’d first made contact a few days ago.
Grady moaned, and soon Matthew’s lips found Grady’s ear; he licked the lobe and heard another moan. Hands gripped his waist.
Grady murmured into Matthew’s neck, “Guess the Jacuzzi’s out?”
Matthew laughed. “No, I saw you standing there, and I wanted to get more than my eyes saw. Something about pressing a man against a wall has always been a turn-on for me. I should have asked first.”
“No, it was hot,” Grady looked down between them. “As we are both exhibiting the result of that press, I think a dunk in the Jacuzzi might only be a bump in the road to where we’ll end up.”
“Oh! Right. I’m not interested in ingesting chlorine,” Matthew chuckled.
“We can rest our weary bones in it afterward.” Grady motioned with his finger. “Follow me.”
Grady walked along the back of the house to a set of French doors. He turned the handle, and they were in a very feminine floral bedroom, with a big cabbage rose pattern on the wall behind the bed. “My room’s across the hall.”
They traipsed through the hallway and into a room that had to be Grady’s. An enormous poster of the pier he’d written about hung framed on one wall, and the ceiling was a dark blue with little pinpoints of light. “Is that our star system?”
“Yeah, I had it installed with LED. I set it to what is happening right now.”
Matthew stared up.
“I’ll remember this star pattern as the moment you stole my heart, Grady.” He pulled Grady into his arms and they fell to the bed, holding each other close.
Copyright 2020 Caraway Carter
About Caraway Carter
Caraway Carter has worn numerous hats. He’s been a furniture salesman, a dresser, a costumer, an actor/waiter, a rabble-rouser, a poet and most recently a writer. He loves words and stringing them together, he loves sex and sexy men, and he writes relationship fiction that reminds you–it’s never too late for love. And he has lived his tagline. He married his husband on Halloween, at the age of forty-nine, and they are the loving parents of an adorable cat named Molly.
Professions of Love Series
Hearts Repaired
A confident doctor. A sexy mechanic. A May/December romance to fall in love with.
Lawrence Barnsdale was stunned when he woke up next to a much younger man. This wasn’t his style. This wasn’t him. He knew the relationship was doomed when he realized that Curtis was smart, funny and an accomplished doctor. Why would Curtis be interested in an over-the-hill mechanic?
Curtis knew from the night they first met that Lawrence was the kind of guy he could have a future with. If only he could convince Lawrence that the age difference didn’t matter
Hearts Repaired is the first book in a May/December contemporary gay romance series. If you like second chances, real men, and finding a connection, then you’ll love this new series by Caraway Carter.
Buy Hearts Repaired to discover the men of Professions of Love today!
Originally published as The Doctor & The Mechanic, but has been rewritten and is now a 48k novella.
Hearts Repaired hits January 2021, on pre-order now: https://amzn.to/3p3Ivzo
Website: http://www.carawaycarter.com
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The Cabin Between Us
by
Dani René
Acknowledgements
I have to thank Liz Berry and the team at 1001 Dark Nights for this incredible opportunity. It’s been a humbling experience, and I am so excited to be a part of this anthology. Also, a huge thank you to my amazing editor for her belief in me and this story, and for pushing me to enter the contest.
Chapter One
Calandra
Cool air hits me the moment I step off the train. The din of the city engulfs me as I make my way up the steps. It’s been so long since I’ve been here that even the chatter of passengers assaults my ears violently. I never wanted to come back here, to see the town that stole my heart and then spit me out like an old piece of gum.
But I needed to return. My mother’s wishes brought me all the way back to the Big Apple. When I hit the sidewalk, I flag down a yellow cab. Like a tourist, I feel out of my depth with the busyness of New York.
“East River Apartments, please,” I say as I slip into the back seat of the cab. He nods before pulling out into the crowded street. Nothing’s changed since I last saw the metropolis. I’ve always loved it, but the day I turned eighteen, I told my mother I’d be moving to LA. I wanted nothing more than to become an actress, to land a leading role in some big Hollywood blockbuster. But when I got there, I found it harder than I’d anticipated.
As we weave through the bustling streets, I can’t help but wonder if things would be different if I’d stayed. The city looks exactly the same, and with every corner we pass, memories take hold, reminding me of the day I decided to walk out on the one man w
ho owned my heart.
It was a mistake to leave, but he never came for me. I wanted him to follow, even though I knew he wouldn’t. I wanted him to tell me he loved me, even though I knew I should’ve said it first. My stubborn nature held me back, and my independence cost me the relationship.
By the time we reach the apartment building, which overlooks beautiful Central Park, I’m anxious, my stomach twisted in knots at the memories this city brings back. Once I’m out of the vehicle with my suitcase beside me, I look up, taking in the skyscraper, realizing that right at the top, my mother awaits.
Sighing, I push forward and make my way through the doors. It’s now or never. I know if I had refused to come back, my mother would never have let me forget this. So I find myself back in New York, coming back to the apartment I grew up in.
As the elevator lifts me to the top floor, I wonder just why she decided this is the weekend I needed to come home. My father’s death was hard on both of us, but her choice to sell the cabin upstate came out of nowhere. She knows how much I love that place, and her announcement about putting it on the market shocked me.
When I told her I’d be home to help her oversee the movers packing up the place, she jumped at the suggestion. Normally, she’d be the one needing to be in charge, but after our talk, I have a feeling she’s up to something, and it’s not going to take me long to figure out what it is.
My chest tightens at the thought of not being at the cabin on our summer vacations. Even though I haven’t visited in almost five years, that little home has a place in my heart that nobody could ever replace. Although, what I haven’t told Mom is the cabin is where Kolton and I first had sex. It was also the last place I saw Dad before he died. Everything poignant in my life happened there, and now she’s giving it away to someone else.
I can’t be selfish and expect her to keep something that brings her heartache, but maybe, just maybe, I can talk her into selling it to me. I can get a loan; I can pay it off. Sighing as the silver doors slide open and deposit me in the hallway, I take a deep breath and steel myself for my mother’s snarky comments. If I’m going to pull this off, I need to show confidence and not whine like a teenager, which is something she’s told me time and again I sound like.