“Veggie egg white omelet with a side of turkey bacon and wheat toast?” Daniella asked me.
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Chaz squinted as he peered harder at the menu. “I don’t see that on here.”
“That’s because the doc is special,” Daniella said. “Do you want Emma to make that for you too?”
I laughed when Chaz shuttered a little bit at eating a veggie egg white omelet. “He’ll take a stack of pancakes and a side of real bacon,” I told Daniella. I’d seen him eat it enough to know it was his favorite. Chaz slowly shook his head once Daniella took our orders to the kitchen. “Did I screw up by ordering for you?” I asked. “I wasn’t trying to be a chauvinistic jerk or something.”
“No,” Chaz said. “You were showing me that you’ve been paying attention. That’s a sexy trait you have there, Doc.”
“Not creepy?” I inquired.
“Creepy would be if you’re rattling off something you could only have seen while peeping into my windows or something. Like the color of the wallpaper border in my bathroom,” Chaz clarified.
“Got it,” I replied. “What is Chaz Hamilton’s all-time favorite movie?”
“Goonies,” he replied swiftly.
“Goonies?” I asked in surprise. “I don’t think I would’ve guessed that movie in a million years.”
“Why not?” Chaz asked. “It had a cute guy in it plus action and adventure. Who didn’t want to find a buried treasure as a kid?” Chaz started to laugh and said, “I’ll never forget the summer Josh and I watched that movie. We must’ve asked to go through every musty, dusty attic in our neighborhoods looking for a treasure map. All we found was a mummified mouse and moth-eaten clothes.”
I laughed at his story and decided to share one of my own. “Holly and I were hung up on X-Files,” I told Chaz. “We looked for signs of aliens everywhere. We both snuck out one night to watch the clearing in the woods just outside of town after hearing people talk about odd sightings in the sky.”
“What did you see?” Chaz asked me.
“We fell asleep not long after we got there,” I told him. “We were in so much trouble when we came home the next day.”
“I bet so,” Chaz said.
Daniella brought our breakfasts out, and we got busy eating, but our conversation didn’t end; we just talked between bites. We shared little things like favorite bands, but we also delved a little deeper into what made me want to be a veterinarian and Chaz a writer.
I put my elbow on the table and rested my chin in my hand. “Creativity like yours blows me away.” I smiled when a blush spread across his cheeks. “I’m so excited that your dreams are coming true, but I need you to know that I fell for the receptionist turned salon manager from Curl Up and Dye, not the best-selling author.” Chaz’s cheeks turned a rosy red hue. “He was always enough for me.”
A mischievous smile spread slowly across Chaz’s face. “I should really write this stuff down. You’re something else.”
I could tell by the awed expression on his face that he thought “something else” was good instead of bad.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” I teased him.
I couldn’t say that we were back to the way things were before I found out that Chaz and Drew were the same guy, but most of the tension had faded. I was still disappointed that Chaz didn’t trust me with the truth sooner, but I had to admit that I probably contributed to the idea that I wasn’t approachable. I had an aloofness about me at times, a stoicism that could’ve led him to believe that I was arrogant. It wouldn’t be the first time I gave someone that impression about me. I wasn’t arrogant; I had just never overcome my habit of trying to be invisible in a room to avoid being teased.
I knew two things about the situation with Chaz: he didn’t have a mean bone in his delectable body, and I recognized honest regret when I saw it. He had the same expression the morning after in my hotel room as he had the previous night in my living room. He might’ve done a stupid thing, but not because he wanted to hurt me. I understood that fear caused people to make stupid choices sometimes, just as I knew that people made rash decisions when someone they care about disappoints or hurts them.
I was prepared to let Chaz go home the night before to give myself space to think until he stood up to leave. The disillusionment I felt didn’t just suddenly disappear, but other more pressing feelings overrode it. First, there was an understanding that I needed to prove trustworthy if I expected Chaz to trust me. I told him at the hotel that we could work through any obstacle other than him being in a relationship with someone else, and I had to keep my word. It took a lot of courage for him to admit the truth and I had to prove that I could take it and not overreact. Then there was a brief moment of panic that pushing him away would be the biggest mistake of my life. I knew that we’d botched things too badly to continue down the same road, so I proposed that we start over from scratch.
I couldn’t say that it was behind us, but I definitely felt lighter that morning sitting across from him at the diner. Neither of us seemed in a hurry to leave the coziness we found in the booth, so we lingered over another cup of coffee after Daniella collected our dirty plates. I liked Chaz’s quick smiles and even quicker sense of humor. It was obvious that he flourished once the burden of truth was lifted from his shoulders. He was less guarded and more carefree; it was impossible for me to sit there and not be charmed by him.
I noticed that he got quieter once we left the diner and headed to his house. I glanced over and saw that some of his tension had returned. I didn’t know the source of his unease, but he was obviously wound up about something.
“Are you worried that your house is messy?” I asked. “You’ve seen mine and know I’m not a meticulous housekeeper.”
“Nah,” Chaz said casually. “I’ve had too much time on my hands the past few weeks and kept busy by cleaning the house.”
“Same for me,” I admitted, “except I spent my energy getting things ready for my new house.”
“New house?” Chaz asked. “The one with the pond?”
“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “I fell in love with it and made an offer. I close in ten days, and I’m trying to make sure I have everything organized for the move.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Chaz said. I couldn’t wait for him to see it. I had plans to give him a very private tour of every room in the house.
“The sudden, unplanned visit to your house isn’t bothering you, but something clearly is,” I told Chaz.
“It’s the Matrons of Maple Lane,” he said sullenly.
“Who?” I asked.
Chaz explained the dynamics of his living situation with me, and I couldn’t hold back a laugh. I knew his mom, grandmother, and aunt fairly well and they all had very strong personalities. I thought it was cute how they fussed and tried to take care of him, although he obviously didn’t.
“Oh, you won’t be laughing when they pop over unannounced at the most inconvenient time,” Chaz said. I detected more than a little hint of whining in his tone, but I was stuck on potential meaning of inconvenient times. Were we naked? I told my dick to stand down because it wasn’t the time to get all rowdy.
More comical than Chaz’s whining tone was the way he scoped out the neighborhood when I turned down his lane. There weren’t many houses and his family lived in the three homes that made up the cul-de-sac. There was no way for me to pull into his driveway without his family knowing unless they weren’t home.
“Let’s get this over with,” Chaz said then opened the door to my truck. He kept looking over his shoulder as he unlocked his door. “I give them ten minutes. It depends if they’ve changed out of their nightgowns yet.”
He started making a pot of coffee while I glanced around the small, but tidy house. Chaz had explained that he rented the house from his aunt after his uncle passed away. He must’ve thought the arrangement was temporary because there wasn’t a single piece of Chaz Hamilton’s personality anywhere
to be found in the overly feminine furniture and décor.
As I sat waiting for Chaz, I heard a buzzing noise of some kind. Chaz looked up at the clock and snorted. The noise got louder and sounded like it was getting closer. Then I realized it wasn’t buzzing at all, but three overzealous women talking over the top of one another.
“Eight minutes,” Chaz said on his way to the door. He had opened it before the ladies had a chance to knock. “I think this is your personal best time.”
“Dear God in heaven,” his grandmother said, making the sign of the cross over her chest. “What the hell are you wearing?”
Chaz looked down at the leather pants he still wore. “Damn it!” He pivoted and glared at me. “You took me out to eat at the diner looking like this?” he asked.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
“I look like a trick you’ve picked up someplace,” Chaz replied.
“Oh no, baby,” his mother cooed, “you’re definitely a treat.”
“Clara, he means he looks like a male prostitute,” his aunt said. She plastered a smile on her face and looked at me. “How are you this morning, Kyle?”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Talbot. Thank you for asking.”
“Oh, none of this Mrs. Talbot stuff,” she said waving her hand. “I haven’t been your teacher for a very long time. You can call me Sandra or Sandy.”
“Okay. Thank you, ma’am.”
She narrowed her eyes and said. “Ma’am is worse than Mrs. Talbot.”
“Did you fellas have a nice night?” Grandma Gertie asked. “You don’t look like you slept very much.”
“Mom,” Mrs. Talbot and Clara said.
“I did a lot of wicked things, Grandma,” Chaz said, dropping a kiss on her wrinkled cheek.
“I taught you well then,” his grandmother said then winked at me.
“Come on in and have a cup of coffee,” I said to the ladies.
The table was small, so it was a pretty tight squeeze for the five of us, but we managed. I felt Chaz’s tension rolling off of him and placed my hand on his knee hoping to calm him a bit. I wasn’t worried about anything the women might say or questions they could ask. They were Chaz’s family, and I wanted to get to know them.
Chaz told them that we had attended Josh and Gabe’s Halloween party and had gone as Ross and Chandler from the show Friends. Sandra said she spent the evening playing bingo at the Catholic church while Clara said she and Chaz’s father, Denver, watched the ID channel.
“It’s not healthy to watch all those killing shows unless you’re writing a book like Chaz,” Grandma Gertie said.
“It’s about as unhealthy as you polishing the wood floors at your age,” Clara replied.
“Bullshit!” Grandma Gertie yelled. “It keeps me young.”
“Is that why you hobbled over here like you’ve been riding a horse for a week straight with no break?” Mrs. Talbot teased.
Chaz placed his hand on top of mine, and I turned to look at him. The smile he gave me warmed my heart because it was genuine and free of strain. I reacted in a way that felt natural to me. I pressed my lips to his for a quick kiss, earning an even happier smile. I was about to go back in for another kiss that was longer and more satisfying, but the happy sighs coming from around the table reminded me that we weren’t alone.
My mom pushed her chair back suddenly and stood up. “Time to go,” she announced.
“What? We just got here,” Grandma Gertie groused. “I only had two sips of my coffee.”
“Mom, you’ve already had three cups. All that caffeine probably isn’t good for you at your age,” Aunt Sandra said.
“What the hell is it with you girls harping at me about my age? For crying out loud, I’m only sixty-nine years old. Wanda Honeycutt was killing people at seventy!” Grandma rolled her eyes like she’d been saddled with the two biggest dimwits for daughters. “Besides, it’s just starting to get interesting over here.”
“I’m not sure that’s a standard you should try to live up to,” I told my grandmother. Mrs. Honeycutt was my former Sunday school teacher who spoke with a soft voice and always had a kind smile. She baked cookies, volunteered at the library, and killed her former employer after she was forced into an early retirement. We learned that small, sleepy towns often hid large, dark secrets.
“I’ll be sleeping with one eye open from now on,” Aunt Sandra said. “Come on, Mom. Let’s give Chaz and Kyle some privacy.”
“Fine, but I want all the juicy tidbits later, Charles Bailey. You know you’re my favorite grandchild,” Grandma said as she reluctantly headed to the front door.
“I’m your only grandchild,” I reminded her.
Luckily, Kyle laughed during the entire exchange instead of bolting for the door. I looked over and smiled at him. “They mean well,” I told him.
“Yes, they certainly do.”
We stared at each other awkwardly for a few heartbeats before we closed the distance between us. “Kyle, I want to kiss you now.”
“Okay then,” Kyle replied. We might’ve been starting over, but I was glad we kept our familiar little phrase.
I leaned in slowly to savor the moment because in many ways it felt like it was our first kiss all over again. I had read many kissing scenes in books over the years and even started writing some of my own. There were only so many words a person could use to describe the tempo of a kiss or so many places for a man to put his hands. As vast as the English language was, only a handful of adjectives worked well. Knowing those words and living them were two different things though.
I seriously thought I was going to melt on the spot when Kyle slipped his tongue into my mouth and teasingly flicked it against the tip of mine. I tried to suck his tongue deeper into my mouth, but he pulled it back with a chuckle. Always before, Kyle kissed me like he thought I would disappear, but that morning he kissed like a man who believed I was there to stay. He took his time exploring and tasting me, sending butterflies into flight inside my stomach and fireworks exploding behind my eyelids just like I’d read in books. He made my blood hum, my heart pound, and my body crave his touch. Yet, I’d discovered new adjectives I seldom used, or read, to describe the art of kissing and they were all a variation of the word consume.
I wasn’t just kissed by Kyle; I was immersed in him. I didn’t just partake, I imbibed. I became inebriated from Kyle’s mouth quicker than the time I stole a sip of my granddad’s moonshine when I was thirteen. I knew there were prettier words to describe the emotions Kyle made me feel, but the only one I could muster after our kiss ended was, “Wow.”
“I’ll say,” Kyle said breathlessly. “Um, you better get a move on with your laundry.”
Neither one of us wanted to stop kissing and touching for laundry, but our bond still felt tenuous. I wasn’t sure how far to push things, so I leaned forward and pecked his lips briefly before I went to my room to gather laundry.
“You need any help?” Kyle yelled from the kitchen.
“I don’t think we’re at the stage in our relationship where we launder one another’s underwear,” I hollered back.
“Too soon, huh?” Kyle asked from the doorway.
I clutched my chest and spun around to face him. “Damn, you move fast for a big guy.”
“Like a ninja,” Kyle replied. “Did you say you didn’t want me to see your underwear? Are you hiding something embarrassing or cute?”
“You’ve seen my underwear,” I scoffed, trying not to let on how close he was to the truth.
“I’ve seen your underwear twice,” Kyle clarified. “You probably played it safe on the off chance I might see them. I bet you only wear the good stuff at home.”
I turned back to my clothes basket and said, “No, don’t be ridiculous.” Damn it!
“Oh my God!” he exclaimed loud enough for my grandmother to hear at her house. She probably thought we were fucking. “I’m right! I had only been kidding, but now I know I was right.”
I turned back around to face Kyl
e with my hands on my hips. “It’s no big deal.”
“Then why are your cheeks so red?” Kyle asked. “I showed you my nerdy comic book collection and my geeky glasses.”
“Yes, but I’m still trying to get back into your good graces.”
“Then you’ll show me your fancy underwear,” Kyle said, crossing his arms across his broad chest. He wasn’t going to budge—either from the topic or my room.
“Fine, but you’re not allowed to laugh at me,” I huffed, “and I’m showing you the clean ones in my collection.”
“Oh, a collection.” Kyle waggled his brows comically while he rubbed his hands together in glee.
I took a deep breath for courage then crossed to my dresser and pulled open my top drawer. I pulled out the first pair I happened to come across and held them up for Kyle to see.
“Oh God,” he placed his hand over his heart. Kyle’s cheeks flushed a deep red from lust—or so I hoped. “I want to pull those off you with my teeth.” I looked at the pair of Captain America briefs that happened to be my favorite pair. I should’ve known that comic-loving Kyle would approve of my silly collection. “Are you wearing a pair now?” he asked.
“Not really, but they’re silly,” I replied. “I thought the underwear would help me get into my role as Ross.”
Kyle narrowed his eyes and closed the short distance between us. He snatched the Captain America undies and tossed them back in the drawer before he unbuttoned and unzipped my leather pants. Kyle tugged the pants down to mid thigh and stared at the secret he revealed. “Dinosaurs,” he said then hooked his finger in the waistband and tugged me closer. “You’re so fucking adorable that I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”
“I have a few ideas,” I said suggestively, “but they better wait until after dinner at Josh and Gabe’s house. Hell, we’re probably in trouble for missing out on their Halloween party.”
Welcome to Blissville Page 110
