by Cara Dee
“What exactly is my lifestyle?” I asked.
“This! All this.” She gestured at where we were, in the middle of downtown Chicago, then at me, my clothes. “New coat, new suit—I know Armani when I see it.”
“Because you have a lot of experience with high-end brands,” I finished dryly. Unbeknownst to her, I’d bought this suit today. Because Adam had made a comment about men in nice suits yesterday, and I wanted his reaction. “You could afford this too, Melinda,” I said, flagging down a cab. “Sell the house or, you know, get a job. There’s no expiration date on your master’s degree.”
“Oh, go to hell, Everett,” she snapped and stalked away from me.
I blew out a breath and got in the cab. It was time to get back to my office.
Since I’d started at ten and stepped out for a long lunch to cover my personal errand today, I needed to work late. But Adam was stopping by with food on his way to the bar. Bella was already there, soaking up whatever time she could with Kell and Teresa before they were off to Florida for the winter.
Margaret went home around five, though the rest of the office was far from empty. It was a big firm, and we always had people working late for various reasons. This year, we’d taken on more interns as well.
I was writing a note for Margaret to schedule a meeting for me first thing tomorrow morning when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I said, tearing off the note from the pad.
“Holy shit.” Adam stood in the doorway, sexy as sin in his rugged, street, yet youthful way. I hadn’t seen him since yesterday, and I’d missed him embarrassingly much. “You look like you’re ready to buy the world or something.”
I lifted my brows and let out a chuckle. Then I removed my glasses and leaned back in my seat.
After closing the door, he walked over and dropped a bag of food on my desk. “Christ, you’re hot.” He rounded my desk and told me to scoot out.
I obeyed. It was evidently what I did around this man.
“So are you.” I reached out and touched his waist, my hand slipping inside his open jacket. “I missed you today.”
“I missed you too.” He eyed me hungrily, something that had the most visceral effect on me. “I don’t know what I want more, to press your face against my crotch or to fall to my knees and suck you off.”
I lowered my hand to rub his cock. “Whatever you want.” Both, I wanted both. “If you lock the door, we could—”
“No,” he murmured. Planting his hands on the armrests of my chair, he leaned over me and kissed me sweetly. “We’re gonna eat quickly. I only have a short shift, so I don’t want you working all night.” He pressed my hand firmly against his crotch, and I moaned into another kiss. “You feel what you do to me?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “You haven’t let me taste you properly yet.”
“Tonight,” he promised. “Come over once Bella’s down for the night. If she sees you, she’ll never fall asleep.”
I smiled. It mattered a lot that Bella liked me too. “Can’t wait.”
He cursed and straightened up. “You’re too sexy for your own good.”
I adjusted my cock under my desk as he went to sit down in one of the chairs. Everything about him turned me on, and I loved it. I loved how sexual he was.
“You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about.” He grabbed the takeout bag and pulled out two sandwiches. “Pastrami for you.”
“Thank you.” I unwrapped it, and he placed a pop in front of me. I cleared my throat. “Right. It’s, uh, sex-related.”
“I’m shocked.” He grinned and got comfortable. “A new fantasy?”
Sort of. He’d riled me up most of yesterday with more of his glorious dirty talk, and he’d mentioned wanting to blindfold me and touch me all over. It’d made me think of something. Then I’d forgotten it because he’d forced me to admit fantasies to him.
“I want you to massage me,” I said. “You said you’d studied it.”
“Long time ago.” He nodded slowly, the idea growing on him. “I’d take advantage like you wouldn’t believe, baby.”
I flushed and took a small bite of my sandwich. “That’s what I’m hoping for,” I confessed. “I want you to make me feel like…less.” I flicked him a hesitant look and saw how his eyes darkened. “I, uh, I thought about it a great deal this morning in the shower—”
“Ha! I bet you did, you filthy whore.”
Oh God.
“Go on,” he said around a mouthful of food.
I couldn’t focus on eating. Not now. I set down my sandwich and took a quick sip of my Coke. “I just want you to push me,” I said quietly. “I haven’t thought further than that. I like it when you speak the way you do. To me, I mean.”
He tilted his head and chewed, taking his sweet-ass time to observe and formulate his response. “You get off on a little humiliation.” He said it like it was a revelation, and that word, humiliation, went straight to my cock. “That’s sexy as fuck, Ev. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you.” I ignored how his heated stare made my ears heat up. In fact, I liked it. The way he put me on the spot—and in my place. A whole new world had opened up, and I was a kid in a candy store.
“Now, eat.” He pointed at my food. “And tell me how the meeting went this morning.”
The closer we got to Thanksgiving, the more everything snowballed. Adam and I made sure to see each other every day, and usually it meant him and Bella coming over for dinner at my place. Either they cooked for us, or I ordered in. Then he and I would get some stolen moments in the bathroom or my bedroom while Bella watched TV before they went home again.
I hated the part where they went home.
It was like they took a part of me with them every night.
Before I knew it, it was the day before Thanksgiving, and closing the office that Wednesday was proving to be a bad decision.
Grace landed around noon, but her mother was picking her up. They were going to a spa, which surprised me. Grace had never liked those things before. It was an overnight affair, so I wouldn’t see her until the day after Thanksgiving.
Grace and Melinda would brave the early Black Friday crowd downtown, and then our daughter would take the L to Logan Square, where I’d meet her. I hadn’t been involved in the planning. Melinda had opened a group chat for us on text to tell me everything, and Grace had merely sent a brief message in the chat to confirm she wanted this.
Grace would spend one night here before going back to the house in Evanston. She wasn’t returning to Berkeley until Sunday.
It took me twenty minutes to make sure the guest room was ready for her, mainly because I’d decorated it as soon as I’d moved in. The room was hers. I’d put a new desk and my computer in there, but there was no clutter. The blueprints from old projects I hadn’t wanted to get rid of were locked inside a cabinet in the corner of my bedroom, and Margaret and two interns had helped me archive the rest digitally. I’d been opposed to the idea initially, and then I’d seen all the brown cardboard boxes in the guest room and decided it wouldn’t be homey enough for Grace.
There was a new bed for her, new linen and sheets, a new nightstand, an empty closet, a dresser…
She’d always liked white, claiming it was the ultimate background for colorful details. So I’d bought everything in white, and it’d been the reason I’d replaced my desk too. It had to be white. And I hoped, God, I fucking hoped, that she would leave some colorful touches behind. Signs of her being here.
I went grocery shopping next, and I bought everything on the list Adam had given me. It seemed like an awful lot for three people, but I wasn’t going to question my two chefs. The fact that they wanted to spend Thanksgiving with me meant the world.
When I was almost done at the store, I noticed something was missing, and I texted Adam.
You didn’t put turkey on the list. Isn’t that an important part of dinner?
While I waited for his re
sponse, I stopped at a display of flowers. That was something Melinda had been good at. Once the maid had cleaned the house, Melinda had bought flowers and candles for a “finishing touch.”
Maybe that was why she wanted alimony.
Grace liked flowers too. Wild flowers, of which there were none here whatsoever. There was, however, a brightly colored bouquet I thought she might like. Pinks, purples, and a sharp yellow mixed with a bit of greenery. It would look nice in her room, wouldn’t it?
And what might Miss Bella like?
Adam’s reply buzzed in my phone.
We picked out that beauty a week ago. It’s defrosting in my kitchen.
I should’ve known.
I decided Bella would get the same bouquet I gave Grace, and then I headed toward the registers and the miles and miles of lines. I’d picked a horrible time to grocery shop, though it was the only thing that prevented me from escaping to my office to work. Lord knew I needed the distraction to keep me from wondering what Grace and Melinda were doing.
I sent a mildly irritated glance at the ceiling the fifth time one of the kids upstairs felt the need to jump across the floor.
The family upstairs was getting in the way of my pre-Thanksgiving pity party in front of the TV. Adam and Bella were at the bar. Kell and his wife were leaving tomorrow, so Bella wanted to be there. Adam and Kell’s son were receiving the annual speech about how to run the place until March was over. I’d been told Adam took on a bigger role during the winter months, meaning he worked much more. Couldn’t say I was thrilled about that.
I was just being moody.
With the TV running in the background, I tried to draw instead, but I ended up going through my sketches, my pencils never leaving the case on the coffee table.
There was one I liked the most. It was Adam in the window, and I’d drawn him from my imagination. One hand planted on the glass, one wrapped around his cock, eyes closed, lips parted slightly. I wanted him to do that for me one day. I wanted to stand in my bedroom and watch him jerk off for me. I wanted to draw him like this.
I grabbed my case and picked out a pen, and I scribbled “The Guy in the Window” at the bottom of the drawing. Underneath the name of it, another line came straight from my heart. “Who showed me the world.”
I closed my eyes for a second and let it sink in.
He’d never been in the window, after all. He’d been holding the door open for me to enter a new universe.
For every day that passed, I walked further into his world. I didn’t see the exit anymore, nor did I wish to. My feelings for him were changing quickly, evolving, growing, and they were anything but temporary.
I wanted to take him out to dinner. I wanted to date him.
He was so sure I needed a rebound, and I had to wonder, a rebound from what? Death? Then he was perfect, because he was life.
I sighed and scrubbed my hands over my face.
Imagine that, me at forty-five, dating a man.
I only had to get him to agree first.
Of course, that would come with a spiel. Adam acted as if I needed to be lectured about the gay way of living, and I didn’t want that. Marriage to Melinda had been a set of tracks I’d followed too easily. It hadn’t required a single fucking brain cell. The path had been so clear. Dinner after work, dinner at restaurants on the weekends, sex on Fridays or Saturdays like clockwork, because that was when Melinda could “de-stress from the week.” There’d been wine, sometimes music, and then…mundane sex. At least in comparison to what Adam was showing me.
The last year had been different, in retrospect. The routines I’d had with Melinda had changed, and still, I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t noticed when she stopped putting on music and pouring us some wine on a Friday night. I hadn’t noticed that we’d kissed less frequently. I hadn’t noticed that we’d stopped having sex.
From her perspective, I couldn’t blame her for wanting to divorce me.
I’d stopped being a husband a long time ago.
I’d stopped when I couldn’t be a husband on her terms, only I hadn’t noticed that either.
The buzzer going off in the hallway brought me back to now, and I left the living room to see who in the building had forgotten their keys. It wasn’t the first time it’d happened.
I pressed the intercom button. “Who is it?”
“It’s your favorite Bella! And Daddy, I guess.”
Adam chuckled.
Warmth swept through every fiber of my being. “Princess, what on earth are you doing here?”
“We’ll ’splain! Let us in. Daddy forgetted de code.”
Remembering I still had my sketchbook out in the open, I hurried to the living room as soon as I’d buzzed them in and unlocked the door. At some point, I was going to have to find the balls to admit I’d been watching Adam, but it wasn’t today. My goodness, they were actually here.
By the time my sketchbook was hidden in the cabinet in my bedroom, Adam and Bella were in the hallway removing their coats.
“This is a wonderful surprise.” I stepped forward to help Bella with her scarf and mittens.
“Daddy said you don’t feel awesome,” she told me. “I’m best at comfort, so I hadda be here. Is it your tummy?”
I smiled softly in thanks to Adam and squatted down in front of Bella. “I’m nervous about seeing Grace after Thanksgiving,” I admitted to her. “We had a fight.”
“Oh.” She scrunched her nose and turned to Adam. “I don’t wanna make soup. He’s not sick like that. Snickerdoodles are perfecter.” She faced me again, and I couldn’t help but kiss her cheek. She smiled but was all business. “Daddy and I never fight when there’s snickerdoodles.”
“Then I definitely want to make snickerdoodles with you.” I gathered her hands in mine and kissed her knuckles. “You lead the way, chef.”
She knew her way around my kitchen already, and I’d bought a step stool for her so she could climb up on the counter and grab whatever she might need from the cupboards. It was the same kind of stool I’d seen in their kitchen.
Adam and I were granted a few seconds alone in the hallway, and I kissed him quickly.
“I can’t thank you enough for being here,” I murmured.
“No worries.” He touched my cheek briefly. “I’m kinda anxious about Grace coming too. We gotta make sure shit works out between yous.”
I kissed him again, until our presence was required in the kitchen. Bella had come with me to the store once, and in that time, she’d told me about all the ingredients I should always have at home. She couldn’t read well yet, but she could dictate like a champion.
She was standing on the counter with two bags of sugar in her arms. She grunted at the weight. “I need the brown sugar, Daddy.”
Adam walked over to help her. “It’s this one. I’ll get the recipe from your backpack. Then you gather what you need and get outta my kitchen. Thanksgiving cookin’ starts now.”
“So much attitude,” Bella whispered with narrowed eyes.
I stifled a laugh.
“Daddy’s boss,” Adam whispered back and gave her an Eskimo kiss. “You can make cookies at the table. And you…” He turned to me. “Put on some good music. I have thirty-six hours of freedom before this little shit is allowed to play Christmas music.”
“That’s the rule.” Bella nodded.
Unable to speak past the overwhelming bliss at having them in my home, actually making it a home, I only returned her nod and got busy.
Last year, Bella and I spent Christmas Day at Kell’s place. Trace, Kell and Teresa’s son, opened up the bar for a local soup kitchen to serve food to the homeless, and we provided snacks, hot beverages, and a place to chill for a few hours.
It’d been a way to feel less alone for me too. A way to distract Bella from asking why we never went to any big family dinners for the holidays. She knew, but kids sometimes asked “Why don’t we…?” when they wanted to say “I want that.”
While I began preparing side di
shes for tomorrow’s dinner in the kitchen, it was impossible for me not to paint images of a slightly different future. Bella and Ev were goofing around at the table while they prepared snickerdoodles, and every motherfucking laugh was a shot at my weak heart.
I could easily picture Ev in the kitchen at the bar on Christmas. Maybe we’d work side by side to make hot rolls and chicken wings. Maybe after spending the morning together, and maybe there was a tree and stockings.
Jesus Christ.
The potatoes were in the water, the seasoning mixes had been prepared, and I could start chopping vegetables for one of my marinated specialties. Instead, I turned around and rested my forearms on the counter where my view was of the future I wanted. Ev was concentrating on rolling the dough into plastic wrap, and Bella was informing him of the importance of leaving the dough in the fridge for an hour.
Ev had flour on his black tee as well as on his jaw. Bella had flour…fuckin’ everywhere.
“An hour takes this long,” Bella said and showed ten fingers. “It’s a lot.”
My mouth twitched, and I pulled out my phone to snap a photo or two of them.
“That’s a long time when you’re waiting for cookies,” Ev agreed soberly. Grace better give Ev a second chance, ’cause he was an amazing father. “Is there anything on the table we don’t need anymore?”
Bella put on her thinking cap and eyed the table. “We need the sugar and cin…the cin—cimmamon.”
“Okay, I will leave the cinnamon right here with you.”
I suppressed the sigh of an idiot falling in love and straightened up to post one of the pictures on Facebook. The few friends I had were curious about Ev, though I’d only given two of them full disclosure. I hoped he wanted to meet them soon.
Ev joined me in the kitchen with an armful of ingredients.
“Do you mind if I tag you in a photo on Facebook?” I asked.
“Not at all. As long as I don’t look too ridiculous.”
I smirked and showed him the photo of Bella with ten fingers up and Ev paying attention to his little chef.
