by Lynn Lorenz
He could barely hear Jack whispering, ‘I’m not gay, Edward. Leave me alone.’
How could Edward have been so wrong? He’d thought he’d seen a heated flicker of interest in the police chief’s sexy blue eyes. And Jack had touched his lips with his fingertip and had cupped his cheek. Edward was positive he’d felt those tender caresses, that they hadn’t been in his head. Or had they?
No. A blast of sexual attraction and mutual desire had passed between them. He’d certainly felt that enough to recognize it. Too many times. And when Jack had thrown him against the door? Hell and damnation.
In Atlanta, the gay scene was filled with willing partners, just not willing life partners. Edward had long since grown tired of casual or anonymous sex and had started looking for that special someone to share the rest of his life. Someone who he loved and who would love him back.
Is that too much to ask?
It seemed to be.
Edward rolled over and closed his eyes. His body felt battered. Whatever had happened to him at Jack’s left him feeling as if he’d been run over by a UPS truck, without the hunky driver in those cute shorts.
Okay, time to end the pity party. He only allowed just so many such thoughts per night and he was over his quota. That’s what had made those damn crow’s feet around his eyes. Worry. Self-doubt. And not enough moisturizer.
Edward sighed. He had a bigger problem to deal with than the lack of a love life.
How was he going to heal his grandmother when he was too terrified to try his power again?
* * * *
Edward woke the next morning after a restless night. None of his problems had been solved and the rosy morning light streaming through the blinds on the window didn’t make them look any better.
Since he doubted Hooterville had a gym, he decided to take his act on the road and go for a run.
He didn’t bother with the shower—no point if he was going to come back all hot and sweaty—so he just pulled on his jockstrap, slipped into a pair of running shorts, a T-shirt, socks and his trainers.
Olivia was having coffee at the table as he came into the kitchen.
“I’m going for a quick run, Meemaw. Do you mind?”
“Not at all, child. Go have your run. I’ll have breakfast ready when you get back.” She smiled at him over what looked like the local paper. The Hooterville Gazette couldn’t have been more than a dozen pages long.
“Don’t go out of your way for me. I’m just a coffee and cereal kind of guy.”
“Cereal? I’m not sure I have any.” She frowned. “I can make you eggs and bacon, though.”
Oh God, that would be decadence itself. He rarely splurged on breakfast and especially not bacon or sausage. He’d have to stop at that market again and pick up a box of Cheerios. He knew they wouldn’t carry the organic cereal that he usually bought.
“Well, I suppose I could let you talk me into it.” He winked. “Just this once.”
“Watching your weight?” She eyed him up and down. “In my opinion, you could stand to gain a few pounds, Edward.”
Soaking wet, Edward didn’t weight more than one hundred and sixty, and at five-ten, he kept most of it trim and taut. Most of his lovers appreciated his efforts.
“What? And ruin this fabulous body?” He struck a few poses, showing off his muscles like a weight lifter.
She laughed at his antics and waved him off. “Get going. I’ll see you when you get back.”
Edward gave her a kiss on the cheek and headed for the door.
Outside, he went through his stretches then started jogging in place to warm up. Once he felt ready, he took off down the block.
Pounding down the pavement, Edward came to the main street and turned the corner. He passed all sorts of shops and stores that hadn’t opened yet. The little town was still asleep. The morning was cool, traffic nonexistent and clean country air filled his lungs. He loved running in the early morning when he could just let go of everything, concentrate on his feet hitting the concrete, his even breathing and keeping his pace steady.
So unlike his wreck of a life.
He never took Winston running. The dog was just too short-legged and became too exhausted to go far. But Edward loved it, loved stretching his legs, loved doing short sprints toward the end, then slowing as he finished and walked the last few blocks to cool down.
He’d focused on the sidewalk ahead of him and never noticed he was coming up to Smith’s Garage until he was right on top of it.
“Hey, look who it is!” a voice called out. “Looking good, princess!”
Edward looked around, saw where he was and stumbled. He went down, his knee connected with the ground and he threw his hands out to keep his head from hitting the pavement.
Laughter echoed in the empty street. After pushing up the garage doors, Jimmy slapped Phil on the back as he whistled and catcalled at him.
Gritting his teeth against the pain and his anger, Edward checked his knee and wiped off the blood that ran from the deep cut with his T-shirt. His palms were scraped but not bleeding. His knee and his pride had taken the brunt of the fall. He pushed off the ground and brushed off his legs.
Jimmy started toward him, a sneer on his already greasy face. Did he come to work that way or did he apply the grease once there?
Edward stepped back and looked up and down the street. His knee screamed at him, but fear screamed louder. This was not the place or the time for a confrontation and Jimmy had ‘gonna kick your fag ass’ written all over him.
Edward turned and jogged away, praying Jimmy was too lazy or out of shape to follow.
“Hey, come back, princess! We’ve got your Prince Charming right here!” Only Jimmy’s taunts chased him down the block. Edward didn’t slow down until he’d gone three blocks, then he came to a limping halt.
Bent over, he struggled to catch his breath. Blood ran down his shin and soaked his sock. Running home was out of the question. The few blocks he’d traveled had only aggravated the cut and made the bleeding worse.
If only his power worked for him. He could take away other people’s pain but couldn’t do a damn thing for himself. What kind of power is that?
Edward began walking. Actually, it was more of a step, limp, hop, step, limp, hop. It would take him forever to make it back to the house. There were still six blocks to go before he turned onto Olivia’s street then another six blocks or so to her house.
He’d covered another block when a horn sounded and someone called his name. Edward dunked his head, as if whoever it was wouldn’t recognize or see him, but since the guy had used his name and there was no way he could limp fast enough, he stopped.
A huge black truck pulled to the curb.
Instead of Jimmy or Phil, a handsome cowboy, complete with black cowboy hat, leaned out of the window. Edward glanced over at him. He didn’t recognize him, but he wished he did. Then another man bent over and waved.
“Mr. Beauregard? It’s Brian Russell. From yesterday? I gave you a ride to pick up your car?” The big cop, dressed in a red T-shirt, smiled at him.
Edward limped over to the truck. “Hi. Fancy meeting you here.”
“I’d like to introduce my partner, Rush Weston. Rush, this is Edward Beauregard, from Atlanta. He’s visiting Olivia.” They shook hands through the window of the cab.
“Nice to meet you.” Edward smiled at the happy couple. Lucky boys.
“What happened to your leg?” Rush asked, adjusting his Stetson.
Edward cast a glance down the street. “I was concentrating on my running and someone called out to me and I tripped and fell.” He shrugged. He didn’t intend to tell anyone about the men at the garage. That would only stir things up. Discretion was definitely the better part of valor here in homophobic Hooterville.
“It looks like you could use a ride home,” Rush drawled. “Hop in.” He jerked his head at the other side of the truck.
Brian was already opening his door. “Get in here. I insist.”
“Okay. Thanks, I really appreciate it. I left Olivia thinking I’d only be gone for about a half hour. I don’t want her worrying about me.” He climbed in as Brian scooted over next to Rush. Edward didn’t miss Brian’s claiming hand on Rush’s leg, or the way Rush wrapped his arm around Brian’s shoulders.
See, it does happen for some men. Why not me?
“Do you know where Olivia lives?” Edward asked Rush as he pulled away from the curb.
“Sure. Been here all my life and she’s been here longer. ’Course, she used to live on the old ranch, but about fifteen years ago she moved into town.”
“I didn’t know that, babe. I thought she’d been there forever.” Brian laughed. “I’ve only been here for about six months myself, Edward. Can I call you Edward?”
“Sure. As long as I can call you Brian and Rush.”
“It’s a deal.” Brian nodded. “So, are you going to stay long?”
“For a while. I have to get Winston back. That should be on Monday—then I have to move to the hotel up on the interstate, and I still have some business to take care of with my grandmother.”
Rush turned to Brian. “Winston? That the dog that bit your boss?”
Brian chuckled. “Yes. Jack wanted to keep it quiet, but by the afternoon, thanks to Kristen, the story had spread to just about everyone on the force.”
Edward groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to cause Jack so much trouble. It’s bad enough my dog bit him.”
“Jack, huh?” Rush raised an eyebrow. “Not Chief Whittaker?”
Edward blushed.
Brian told Rush, “Edward asked me if Jack was gay.”
The fire in Edward’s face burned all the way to the roots of his hair. He had no idea what to say, so he just sat still and waited for the moment to pass and the topic of conversation to change.
“That’s an interesting question, Edward.” Rush grinned. “Any reason why you’d think so?” The cowboy sure wasn’t giving Edward any answers, just more questions.
Edward bit his bottom lip, unsure what to say.
The men waited.
“Okay. You know, when a guy looks at you like he wants to gobble you up? Like he hasn’t eaten in days and you’re bananas Foster?”
“Uh-huh,” Rush said.
“You got that look from Jack?” Brian asked as one eyebrow rose.
“I think so. When we first met on the side of the road. After my dog bit him. And again in his office, right before he threw me out.”
Rush let out a low whistle. “Well, I never knew it, that’s for damn sure. Of course, I was pretty deep in the closet myself until I met Brian and found a damn good reason to come out. Maybe Jack’s in there too. What do you think, darlin’? You work with him every day.”
“No way.” Brian shook his head. “I’ve never seen the man do or say anything that even hinted at being gay. Sorry, Edward.”
“That’s okay. I must be nuts to think…” Edward sighed.
“To think what?” Brian urged him to finish.
“To think a man like Jack Whittaker would want someone like me.” Edward ran his hand through his hair and stared out of the window. It was nuts.
“What’s wrong with you?” Rush asked. “From what I see, you’ve got a lot going for you. Especially that cute butt of yours.”
“Thanks.” Edward grinned as Brian elbowed his partner.
“You’re not supposed to be checking out other men,” Brian growled.
“I’m all yours, darlin’, but a man can still look.” Rush laughed and ruffled Brian’s hair, then gave him a peck on the cheek.
Edward shrugged. “Thanks for noticing my ass. I just wish Jack had noticed it too. What I meant was, I’m nothing like Jack. He’s all male and alpha and strict and sexy and…” He exhaled. “Not gay. He told me so.”
“You asked?” Brian sat back.
“No.” Edward sighed. “This is so embarrassing. Please promise me you won’t mention a word of this to anybody, especially Jack.”
Brian held up his hand as if taking the oath in court. “I promise.”
“Me too,” added Rush.
“I sort of came on to him. I’d been flirting with him since the stop, but last night at his house—”
“Wait. You were at Jack’s house?” Brian interrupted.
“Yes. I went there to bring Winston some dog food. Anyway, I came on to him. I thought… I felt…he… Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He told me to leave him alone and that he wasn’t gay. I was so mortified.”
The men nodded.
“I’m usually right when it comes to these things. But this time I was so wrong.”
Edward caught the look that passed between Rush and Brian, but they said nothing more until Rush pulled up in front of Olivia’s.
Rush spoke as Edward got out. “We’re having some friends over on Wednesday evening. Why don’t you join us?”
“That’s a great idea, babe,” Brian chimed in. “Come out to the ranch, Edward.”
“How sweet of you! I’d love to. Is it a real ranch?” Edward wasn’t sure about going to a ranch or what he’d find there. He had a vision of trying to drive the Miata through a herd of cows. What if there was a stampede? In those old westerns, the cattle always charged right over a cliff.
“Yep. Got horses and cattle.”
“But no cliffs, right?” Edward asked.
“No. No cliffs. Most of our land is pasture, woods and rolling hills.” Rush tilted his head as if pondering the question and its meaning.
“That sounds nice,” Edward said.
“I’ll call you later to give you directions. Give me your cell number,” Brian said. They swapped numbers, then Edward thanked them and limped up the path to the front door as the two men drove off.
Despite his run-ins with the jerks at the garage, most of the people he’d met here had been very nice and welcoming. Of course, he hadn’t met more than a handful of people, but so far, Hooterville was shaping up nicely.
Chapter Eleven
Edward expected to smell bacon or sausage cooking when he came in, but only the light scent of lavender caught his nose. Had he been gone too long and she’d given up on him?
“Meemaw?” he called out. No answer.
He went to the kitchen. The paper and her coffee cup sat on the table as if she’d just gotten up and walked off. He turned around and went to the hall, passed his room and the guest bath and went straight to her room.
Edward knocked on the door. “Meemaw? Are you all right?” After no answer, he opened it and peeked in.
Olivia lay stretched out on the bed, her arm slung over her eyes.
“Meemaw?” Edward’s stomach dropped. She was so still. So small on the queen-size bed.
He went to her side and bent over. Taking her hand, he petted the back of it.
“Meemaw? Are you okay?” Thank God, it was warm.
Her eyes fluttered and opened. They appeared dazed as she searched his face.
“Edward? You’re back.” She sighed. “I’m sorry about breakfast, but I had a bad spell.”
“I don’t care about that. Did you fall? Are you hurt?” He checked her up and down but didn’t see any sign of bruises or cuts. “Should I call your doctor?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I just get weak and have to lie down.” She tried to get up. “I’ll get your breakfast now.”
“You will not!” Edward put his hand on her shoulder and eased her back. “I’m a big boy. I can fend for myself. How about I fix you something?”
She patted his hand. “No, thanks. I need to rest and after one of these spells, I can’t touch food for a while. Go take care of yourself, child.”
Edward frowned. “Maybe I’ll just get cleaned up and come sit with you.”
She smiled. “That would be nice. I’d like that.”
“Be right back.” Edward left, hurried to his room, gathered some clothes and headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower, he skipped shaving and fus
sing with his hair, then tackled the cut on his knee. Once he’d cleaned and bandaged it, he dressed and went back to Olivia’s room.
She was sleeping. Edward slipped into a chair near the bed and watched her. Even, shallow breaths made her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. That was good. When she felt better, he’d ask her about the spells.
The area around her eyes appeared sunken, her skin pale, papery and almost transparent. She looked old and Edward was struck by her mortality. She’d seemed so alive just this morning. What had reduced her to this in just one short hour?
Whatever it was, Edward wasn’t sure he wanted to tackle it. Not until he understood exactly what ‘it’ was. He needed to speak to her doctor.
If she had one.
Surely, she’d been to see a physician about these attacks? His mother ran to the doctor for every ache and pain, real or imagined. But old people were funny sometimes. She’d already said she hated complaining and listening to other old people talk about their illnesses. Did she hate it so much she hadn’t gone?
That he’d have to forge ahead into a situation he knew nothing about and try to use his power to heal her, terrified him.
Like he had with Jack.
He stared at the woman he’d come to love in just two short days. She’d loved him from the first moment he’d entered her house. Had loved him all along. Edward knew that. He’d felt it in his bones. And in response to that love, he loved her back. She’d accepted him without hesitation. Without snide remarks or suggestions about how he could change or improve himself because he wasn’t good enough.
He’d been good enough for her just as he was.
She was his grandmother, but he barely knew her, yet he loved her with a fierceness he hadn’t felt for anyone in ages.
But did he love her enough?
* * * *
Jack stared at the empty shelves of his refrigerator. The six-pack of Shiner was nestled in the door tray. Over the last day or so, he’d fed most of his food to Winston during their training sessions. Jack would have to go to the store and do some shopping if he wanted to eat this week.
