by Tara Lain
They hugged it out and Red hurried onto the floor. Kimmie was peering through the window with a huge smile. “Hey co-manager, get your ass to work.”
I’m so freaking excited!”
“Me too.”
“I’ve got a boatload to tell you, but it’ll have to wait.” He grabbed his order pad and headed for his first table.
Five hours later, he was feeling the stress and lack of sleep of the previous few days but still floated on a total high of new love and a new life. Soon, Mark would pick him up and they’d go tell Gran his idea for renovating the house and them all living together. Was he nervous? Hell yes. But honestly, the New York experience had prepared him for a lot. That was the only good thing he could say about it, aside from meeting Elbey and Mr. M.
Red hurried toward the front for his last round of tables. He scooted around the corner with a big smile and froze. Phil Gordat and two of his merry assholes sat in the big booth.
Phil looked up and that disgusting, smarmy smile spread over his face. “Son of a bitch, I thought our pretty little fag was long gone to the big city where they don’t mind fags so much, since they’re a bunch of socialist degenerates. Hi, pretty baby, how’s it hanging? If you even have anything that hangs.” He pitched his voice just loud enough for people nearby to overhear, but not enough to have somebody complain about a nuisance. A few people snickered.
Red said, “Do you actually want anything to eat, Phil? Or would you like to sit here and make a bigger fool of yourself?”
His face contorted. “Don’t call me a fool, you ass-fucker.”
Red almost laughed since it was now totally true. He looked at the other two guys. “Would either of you like food?”
Junior said, “Yeah, get me a—”
Phil snarled, “Did you hear what I said, fag?”
Red said levelly, “Keep this up, Phil, and you’re going to have to leave—for good.”
He slid out of the booth and Red stepped back. Phil was shorter than Red but outweighed him by close to a hundred pounds. Phil swaggered toward him. “You gonna make me, fagmeister?”
Red’s stomach clenched. Years of running from Phil Gordat had made his sick reaction a part of his life. He hated it! A haze of red washed in front of his eyes.
Yeah, right color. Red stepped forward into Gordat’s face. The look of shock on his fat face made Red smile. “Yes, I actually am, Phil.” He bumped his skinny chest against Phil’s oversized one. “Get the fuck out of my restaurant and don’t come back.” He half-turned to the other two. “If you want to back Phil up, then that applies to you too.”
Junior, the biggest of all of them, shook his head. “Fuck no, I like Mom and Pop’s.”
Red turned full attention back to Phil. “Get out. There’s no excuse for your behavior. You’re not welcome in Mom and Pop’s anymore.” He pointed toward the door. “Get out.”
All the booths around them had gone silent and most people didn’t even pretend they weren’t listening, full-on. “Not on your fag ass, asshole.” And then it happened. Phil threw a punch. Red had never hit anyone in his life. Hell, in karate practice when he was ten, he hadn’t been able to pretend to hit his sensei. His body forgot that, and as Phil’s knuckles flew toward him, Red slammed a fist into Phil’s soft gut.
“Ooof Shiiiit.” Phil doubled over and his punch dissolved in midair.
At that moment, Pop appeared beside him. “That’s enough. Phil, get out of my restaurant and don’t come back. If you do, I’ll call the sheriff.” He laughed and they could still hear him as he hauled Phil into the parking lot and left him there.
Red stood shaking his hand because it hurt like hell. But holy crap, he’d just hit Phil Gordat and lived to tell the tale.
As he stared out the window, that oh-so-familiar truck pulled in. Red ran out the front door of the restaurant and got to Mark as he pushed from the driver’s seat, scowling. He said, “What happened?”
Red found he was smiling. “We had a little confrontation.” He snorted. “I won.”
Mark put an arm around Red and walked toward Phil where Pop had deposited him, blearily, in the parking lot.
Phil frowned and it was his turn to back up. Red looked toward the restaurant. Junior and Worley stood on the porch.
Mark said, “In case you or any other homophobic asshole in this town is interested, Red and I are partners. Everything I have is his. Every battle he has is mine. If you want to test that theory, drive that beaten-up crap excuse for a car down Arden Avenue one more time with the lights off. You’ll find yourself in jail for hate crimes, if I have to call the FBI to do it. Either learn a better way, Gordat, or get the fuck out of Ever After.” He looked at Red with a soft smile. “You ready to go, sweetheart?”
Red smiled back with his whole heart. “Let me get my stuff.”
Hand-in-hand, they walked back into Mom and Pop’s and everyone was perfectly happy to let him quit a half hour early. It wasn’t everyday you got rid of an asshole.
Chapter Thirty
Gran seemed weird.
When they’d gotten home, the table had been set for three with all the nice china and glassware Gran had from her parents. She’d made roast chicken and even had mashed potatoes with lots of butter. While it had been delicious, Red’s stomach was in so many knots, he had trouble digesting it. Mark seemed fine, comfortable, and even charming, but Gran fiddled with her fork and pushed the potatoes around on her plate.
Mark said, “Mrs. Ridley, did you hear how Red chased off the town, uh, bully today?”
Her eyes flicked to Mark and then away. She laughed nervously. “Uh, yes. At least four friends hurried to call me to tell me what a hero my grandson is, for dealing with that asshole, Phil Gordat. It’s about time someone stood up to him besides you, Mark.” She glanced up again. “And why don’t you call me Nora? Or Gran?”
“Thank you.” Mark’s cheeks turned pink. It was so sweet. Sometimes Red thought Mark loved Gran almost as much as he loved Red.
Okay, stop stalling. “So, Gran, we wanted to talk to you—”
Gran jumped up. “Oh dear. I nearly forgot the rice pudding.” She rushed into the kitchen and returned with a tray holding three dishes of her divine rice pudding made with homemade whipped cream.
“Wow, this is a treat.” Red grinned as she served the dishes. One taste had him closing his eyes.
Mark said, “I didn’t know rice pudding could taste like this.”
“I’m so glad you like it.” Again, she twirled her spoon but ate nothing.
Okay, try again. “Gran, we have this idea.”
She seemed to sigh and most of the color faded from her face.
Red rushed on. “We’d like to renovate the attic and turn it into a big bedroom and bath and closet and—” He swallowed hard. “—it would be for Mark and me. Then we could all live here. Mark could rent out his apartment for extra income, but—” Red laughed a little too loudly. “—with my new manager’s job and working together to make the garage thrive, we’ll barely need it.”
Mark leaned forward. “Then we can both be here to help out and really reduce stress for—well, all of us, I guess. I’d really like that, uh, Gran.”
Red smiled. “Mark’s never had a mother or a grandmother, and it would be so special for him and—” He cocked his head. Silent tears were running down Gran’s face. He grasped her hand. “What’s wrong? Did you get bad news from the doctor?”
She snuffled and shook her head. “I thought you were going to want to move out.” The last two words came out on a rush of tears. “And—and then I’d lose you, plus that’s simply not fair since this is really Mark’s house.” The tears kept flowing.
Red kissed her hand. “Gran, if you want us here, we both want to be here.”
“Of course, I want you. And then I can take care of both of you.” She smiled and wiped at her wet cheeks.
Red smiled back, since he knew the taking-care went both ways.
She snuffled some more. “Did you say you have a
new job?”
Red told her about his new position and about school. Mark was being really quiet.
Finally, Red finished his second serving of rice pudding and sat back in his chair. “I’m so happy, it’s stupid. And to think only a day ago, I thought my life was over.”
Mark slid a hand across the table and grasped Red’s. “And I’ve figured out a way to solve the house ownership issue.”
Gran shook her head. “It’s your house, Mark, and I’m delighted it is. I’m so touched that you want me to live with you.”
No.” He grinned. “I have a better idea.” He gazed at Red with eyes soft and misty. “What if, after we’ve had some time to settle in and you get going with school and we get the garage thriving, what if—” He took Red’s hand. “—what if I transfer ownership of the house as part of—marriage community property?”
Red’s hearing caught up with his heart and he hurled himself at Mark, yelling, “A thousand times yes!”
Mark laughed. Gran laughed. Red laughed.
And they all lived happily in Ever After.
Meet Tara Lain
Tara Lain believes in happy ever afters - and magic. Same thing. In fact, she says, she doesn't believe, she knows. Tara shares this passion in her stories that star her unique, charismatic heroes and adventurous heroines. Quarterbacks and cops, werewolves and witches, blue collar or billionaires, Tara's characters, readers say, love deeply, resolve seemingly insurmountable differences, and ultimately live their lives authentically. After many years living in southern California, Tara, her soulmate honey and her soulmate dog decided they wanted less cars and more trees, prompting a move to Ashland, Oregon where Tara's creating new stories and loving living in a small town with big culture. Likely a Gryffindor or maybe a Ravensclaw but possessed of Parseltongue, Tara loves animals of all kinds, diversity, open minds, coconut crunch ice cream from Zoeys, and her readers. She also loves to hear from you.
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Books by Tara Lain
From Tara Lain Books – Available in KU
EVER AFTER, NEW YORK STORIES
Better Red
FUZZY LOVE
Passions of a Papillon
TALES OF THE HARKER PACK
The Pack or the Panther
LONG PASS CHRONICLES
Canning the Center
Outing the Quarterback
Tackling the Tight End
GENETIC ATTRACTION SERIES
The Scientist and the Supermodel
Genetic Attraction
The Pretty Boy and the Tomboy
Genetic Celebrity
HOLIDAY NOVELLAS
Mistletowed
Be Bad, For Goodness Sake
From Dreamspinner Press --
Hearts and Flour
Home Improvement – A Love Story
The Fairy Shop
Trex or Treat
ALOYSIUS TALES:
Spell Cat
Brush with Catastrophe
Cataclysmic Shift
BALLS TO THE WALL:
Volley Balls • Fire Balls
Beach Balls • FAST Balls
High Balls • Snow Balls • Bleu Balls
Balls to the Wall – Volley Balls and Fire Balls Anthology
Balls to the Wall – Beach Balls and FAST Balls Anthology
Balls to the Wall – High Balls and Snow Balls Anthology
COWBOYS DON’T:
Cowboys Don’t Come Out
Cowboys Don’t Ride Unicorns
Cowboys Don’t Samba
DREAMSPUN BEYOND #15 – Rome and Jules
DREAMSPUN DESIRES #5 – Taylor Maid
LOVE IN LAGUNA:
Knight of Ocean Avenue
Knave of Broken Hearts
Prince of the Playhouse
Lord of a Thousand Steps
Fool of Main Beach
LOVE YOU SO:
Love You So Hard
Love You So Madly
Love You So Special
Love You So Sweetly
A Love You So Anthology – Love You So Hard and Love You So Madly
MIDDLEMARK MYSTERIES:
The Case of the Sexy Shakespearean
The Case of the Voracious Vintner
MOVIE MAGIC ROMANCES:
Return of the Chauffeur’s Son
Love and Linguistics
PENNYMAKER TALES:
Sinders and Ash • Driven Snow
Beauty, Inc. • Never
Sinders and Ash and Beauty, Inc. Anthology
SUPERORDINARY SOCIETY:
Hidden Powers
TALES OF THE HARKER PACK:
The Pack or the Panther & Wolf in Gucci Loafers Anthology
From Pride Publishing –
DANGEROUS DANCERS:
Golden Dancer
Death Dancer
NOTE from Tara Lain:
Better Red is a new book in a new series, and book 2 isn’t yet completed at this publication. So I thought you might enjoy a little sample of another fairy tale retelling, even though it’s from a different series. Sinders and Ash is a true Cinderella story and is book 1 in The Pennymaker Tales. Though not in KU, it’s available for sale at all retailers.
SINDERS AND ASH
Book One in the Pennymaker Tales
The soft knock reminded him of a cue in a bad play. He knew who it was and knew he shouldn’t answer. That insane little man gave him hope when he knew he had no hope. Only hard work. But dammit, he liked Mr. Pennymaker.
He huffed, dragged himself off the bed, cleared the couple of steps to the door, pulled it open, and headed right back to the bed and curled into a ball.
“Helloooo, my boy. How are you this lovely day?” The chirpy voice paused, and Mark peeked at him from his armadillo-like position. Mr. Pennymaker had his hands on his knees and was gazing at Mark. Yes, he was an elf. “Hmm. I gather we are not tip-top?”
Mark shook his head. “No, sir.”
“What seems to be the problem?”
“Don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Might as well. I want to listen.”
He had a point. Mark needed another angle of vision. “I did something very bad.”
The dark suit Pennymaker was wearing today would have been conservative but for the bright pink vest and the gardenia in his buttonhole. He sat on the rickety chair. “Would you like to tell me about it?”
Mark sat up. Would he? There was something about the man. Like he was on Mark’s side no matter what. Mark had never had that feeling… at least not since his mom died. It made no sense. Mr. Pennymaker was a stranger, but there it was. “Well, you see, Richard the Bastard tried to force himself on me, and I was so—”
“Hold on! What happened?”
“Oh, the bastard sous chef finally quit perving on me and decided to do the deed. He didn’t get to hurt me because Armitage—you know, the rich guy—came to my rescue. And now I know I’m going to get fired any minute, and I really need this job, and I don’t know what I’ll do if they give me a bad referral.”
“Now, now, even Herman Marcusi won’t fire a man for avoiding rape.”
“No, you don’t understand. Because I was really upset. See, I had this thing happen and I guess I went into flashbacks or something, but I was pretty messed up, and Armitage tried to help me and, shit, I kissed him.”
The man grinned. “Kissed him?”
“Yeah.” Mark returned to armadillohood.
Mr. Pennymaker’s voice dripped with amusement. “I’m sure y
ou were grateful.”
Didn’t he get it? Mark sat up. “No! I kissed him kissed him, like, with tongue and, you know.”
The grin got bigger. “I’m sure you were very grateful.”
Mark sighed. “Maybe. But I imagine he’s reporting it to Marcusi right now and I’ll be out on my ass by tomorrow.”
“Maybe he enjoyed it.”
Hell, he hadn’t thought of that. The guy had seemed shocked, but he hadn’t worked very hard to get away. After all, Mark wasn’t exactly Mighty Joe Young. Still, the look on his face…. “I doubt it. Hell, you can’t do anything good with Sinders and Ash.”
