by Jerry Cole
“Love Lives Again”
M/M Gay Romance
Jerry Cole
© 2019
Jerry Cole
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is intended for Adults (ages 18+) only. The contents may be offensive to some readers. It may contain graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations. May contain scenes of unprotected sex. Please do not read this book if you are offended by content as mentioned above or if you are under the age of 18.
Please educate yourself on safe sex practices before making potentially life-changing decisions about sex in real life. If you’re not sure where to start, see here: http://www.jerrycoleauthor.com/safe-sex-resources/.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner & are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Products or brand names mentioned are trademarks of their respective holders or companies. The cover uses licensed images & are shown for illustrative purposes only. Any person(s) that may be depicted on the cover are simply models.
Edition v1.00 (2019.02.13)
http://www.jerrycoleauthor.com
Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: Earleen Gregg, Penny T., D. Fair, A. Pittmoore, Julian White and those who assisted but wished to be anonymous. Thank you so much for your support.
Interested in FREE Gay Romance Books?
Thank you for downloading my book. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Without readers like you, I wouldn’t be able to do what I love. As my way of giving back, I started the Jerry Cole Reader Club & you are invited to join.
Benefits Include:
10+ Free M/M romance books
Updates on my latest releases
Discounts on new release ebooks at launch (up to 65% off retail!)
It’s also your chance to connect with me. No spam, I promise! Membership is free. No obligation to buy anything & unsubscribe anytime. You will receive your free eBooks immediately after subscribing, sent via email.
Click Here to Download Your Free eBooks!
Download your free books today!
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Chapter One
“I know you volunteered to do this, Jack, but I’m telling you, you really do not have to.” Anya looked at the elaborate marker sketches sitting on her dining room table and sipped her coffee. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but you’re a guest. You don’t need to go to this much trouble on our account.” Her tone was a case study in neutrality, but Jack had known her long enough to tell when she was very, very concerned that someone was getting in over their head.
“Yeah, Jack, seriously. This is going to be cake for a zillion people, and you totally can bow out and just attend the wedding. You’re already going to get stuck in a suit as part of the wedding party.” Anya’s soon-to-be-wife Eve was puttering around the kitchen, finishing a pot of pasta sauce and some meatballs for dinner. The two women had been dating for years, and Eve had finally decided that it was time for them to get married after a health scare in July. What had begun as a restrained reception at Anya’s family’s farm in Washington State had soon become an over-the-top bash in record time. It wasn’t really that surprising, given that Anya and Eve were two of the most sociable people Jack had ever met, and their circles of friends were enormous. He knew a good chunk of Anya’s circle, which had blended into Eve’s circle, and the end result was a chaotic mélange of friend groups he no longer bothered to keep track of.
Jack laughed. “You think I’m going to let anyone else handle the most important baked good you’re ever likely to order? Please. I’m happy to do this. I want to do this.”
Anya pursed her lips. “I just don’t want you to think we’re taking advantage of you.”
“I offered, Anya. I want to do this. I would be worried if anyone else were doing this.” He reached over the table to squeeze her hand. “Now, tell me what you do and don’t like about these sketches, and I’ll try to come up with a final plan.”
Anastasia Burns was a striking woman with black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin, and a nose that was a little too long and too narrow for her face. She had a slight, wispy figure, and she was just over 6ft tall. Her mother’s very Russian roots were seemingly buried under her father’s New York Italian genetics, but she dressed like a rich widow and could run a marathon in high heels, and Jack had yet to meet anyone who could stare her down and win. There were a few old scars on her hands that were the only indication that she had ever worked as anything other than a marketing executive, and they were fading more and more with each passing year.
Evelyn Coral was, by contrast, stunning. She had dark hair, copper-colored skin, and enormous hazel eyes. She could, and often did, roll out of bed looking more attractive than most women managed after hours in front of a mirror. She was short and had a fuller figure, and lifted weights regularly. Both women were outgoing, charming, and wicked smart, and Jack had been absolutely thrilled when Anya had finally found someone to spend her life with.
Of course, he would have been lying if he tried to claim he wasn’t a bit jealous of their relationship.
Jackson Lejeune had no shortage of men interested in him at any given time, but they were mainly interested in sharing his tiny share of the limelight after winning a televised baking competition. They weren’t really interested in him as a person. He had brown hair, a thick brown beard, and a smattering of freckles across his nose. His eyes were an unremarkable gray, and he had several large black tattoos across his shoulders. They were all the schematics of airplanes. His day job was as a civil engineer, mainly working at airports. He liked his job, and he loved baking, and he was generally pretty happy with his life overall. There wasn’t much to complain about, outside of his dismal dating prospects. He was only a hair taller than Anya and had a bulky build that he worked hard to maintain. Baking didn’t always make that easy.
The wedding was going to be in mid-October during the fall break for the school districts so that the multitude they were inviting could get time off more easily. The ceremony and reception would be held in the 1920s barn on the property Anya’s parents owned. It wasn’t exactly the most festive season in Washington, given the rain, sleet, snow, and wind, but nobody had ever accused the two women of being incredibly traditional (or sensible). The barn had been renovated and expanded into an event space a decade earlier anyway, and this would not be the first wedding it had hosted. It would likely be the biggest, but that was Anya and Eve for you.
“That blackout cake you brought is incredible. I don’t care what the cake looks like as long as the biggest layer is that blackout cake.” Eve shut the dishwasher and hit a button to start it. “Just shovel that shit into my mouth.”
“I agree, that cake is astounding, even for you.” Anya said.
Jack laughed. “If I do another cookbook, I’m going to call it Taste the Blackout.
&n
bsp; “Oh, that reminds me! The tasting for the catering company is tomorrow… I was hoping you’d be able to come with us?” Anya gave him a pleading look. “You have way better taste than I do. I really liked this place when we booked them, but the owners died a while back, and their son is running it, and I want you to warn me if you see any red flags.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m free, so that’s no problem. What happened to the owners?”
“Car accident. It was in the papers because the guy who did it was drunk off his ass and driving a fancy Italian sports car. He came out of the accident with barely a scratch, but the husband and wife in the other car were both killed instantly. They were driving an old sedan, and he T-boned them. I really would hate to switch catering companies because I’m sure this guy is doing his absolute best, but I also don’t want bad food at my wedding…” Anya explained.
“Yeah, the reviews recently have been iffy because the guy is on his own. Everyone says he’s trying, but…” Eve shrugged. “We can write off the deposit if we need to, but I’d feel like the biggest asshole in the world.”
Jack nodded. “Did the drunk guy get prosecuted?”
Anya snorted. “Not yet. He’s the sort who is friends with all kinds of connected people downtown. I really hope that the son sues. Someone has to teach these rich jerks a lesson.”
“In a perfect world, there would be actual justice.” Eve poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down with them, then pulled the sketches toward her. “Can I put a moratorium on fondant flowers? Or just…fondant in general?”
***
Luke fell into his office chair with a groan. He hadn’t had time to think all day, and he was exhausted. The catering company had been floundering when his parents were still alive, but with them gone it had become a nightmare. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. He needed to get his order in for supplies tonight, so they’d be delivered in time for the next round of events over the weekend, and his second in command, Nikki, was sick as a dog at home.
It was not going to be fun.
He glanced at his computer monitor and spotted his reflection in the black glass. Black hair shot with gray and getting grayer every day, almond-shaped hazel eyes with lines around them he didn’t recall before. His cheekbones were getting sharper from not eating and not sleeping. He was lanky and thin, and his clothes were stained with food from helping in the kitchen. Even his glasses had a fleck of mashed potatoes on them.
He hadn’t really wanted to be a caterer, but he hadn’t had enough steady jobs as a comics artist, and when his parents had been killed in a car accident, he was left without many options. He could have sold the company, he supposed, but it wouldn’t have made much money, and somehow it felt like a betrayal to let it go. He couldn’t bring himself to sell their house or their business, and he didn’t even entertain the thought of getting rid of their grouchy, obese cat, Pao. Without better options, it left him running a struggling catering business at thirty-six years old, living with his parents’ ghosts in their old house, and trying desperately to put their cat on a diet.
He glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight, and he needed to get some sleep. He quickly started his computer and entered the long list of items he needed into the website of the wholesaler he used, then saved the order and grabbed his keys and wallet.
“You heading out?” Nathan asked, pausing in the doorway with an enormous trash bag. He was a little taller than Luke’s 5’9” and had a heavy brow line over the thickest glasses Luke had ever seen. He was also a college ex-boyfriend of Luke’s who had been working odd shifts for his parents for years, which only made things stranger. They had both moved on a long time ago, and Nathan was seeing some other guy from Haiti now. Nathan made decent money performing as a wedding singer and working as a professor of music at the local university, but he took shifts when Luke offered because he had expensive tastes.
“Yeah, sure am. Dishes done?”
“Oh yeah, Ben finished them an hour ago. I sent everyone else home, and I was just finishing the bathrooms and the trash.” He gestured to the bag. “I’ll ditch my apron, and you can lock up.”
“Great…” Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks for your help.”
Nathan looked at him, bemused. “When was the last time you slept a full eight hours?”
“I… don’t know. A week ago?” Luke removed his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. “I think?”
“And don’t you think that maybe that’s going to catch up with you?”
“Yeah, I’m sure it will, but I don’t have much choice.”
“You’ve got to hire more people, Luke. You’re gonna kill yourself like this.”
“I don’t have the money. I’m barely keeping things going as it is, and I’m not going to pay everyone less than they’re worth.”
“Luke. I appreciate that, I really do, but we’d all rather take a pay cut for a while, so the company survives. No good to us if it goes under because you’re trying to run short on staff.” He clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Besides, you need a day off once in a while.”
“Yeah…probably.”
Nathan hesitated. “Have you reconsidered the lawsuit? I mean, they won’t bring the criminal charges against this guy… and seriously, he killed your fucking parents. He deserves to be taken to court.”
Luke sighed again. “I know… and… yeah, I have thought about it. There are plenty of lawyers who would be thrilled to help. But I don’t know how to pick a good one, and I never have time to really think about it.”
“Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“I will, Nate, thanks.”
Nate nodded and headed to the dumpsters.
Luke finished what he absolutely had to and got in the car to go home. Thankfully, his parents’ house was just a few blocks down the road. A light mist was falling, making the night eerie and claustrophobic, but that was fairly normal in the Pacific Northwest. He managed to get home in one piece, and he dumped some food into the cat’s bowl before he collapsed into bed without bothering to get undressed.
Chapter Two
The next morning dawned just as cold and dreary as the last evening. It was the very beginning of April, but it still looked and felt like the middle of winter. Jack rolled over and glared at his alarm clock, trying to remember why he had set it for a Saturday morning. Especially a Saturday morning after a Friday evening spent with Anya, Eve, and a lot of wine.
He glanced at his phone to see an array of text messages from Anya, all relaying information about when and where to meet them for the catering tasting. Jack groaned. He regretted his choices immediately.
Jack got up, stumbled into the kitchen for some coffee, then headed to the shower. There was still a nasty taste in his mouth from his hangover.
He eventually and begrudgingly began to get dressed for the day, opting for a flannel button-down and jeans, despite the fact that Eve would accuse him of dressing more and more like a hipster lumberjack. He added a thick wool scarf and some lace-up boots. It was cold and damp, and the coffee and shower had barely touched his headache.
His apartment was a large place with brick walls and full of heavy wood and leather furniture, and he kept thinking about getting a dog, but he was so often gone for work that it seemed unfair. There were a few photos from his life in the military, but he didn’t have them displayed very prominently. He moved through the place, checking that he had turned the stove off, and then grabbed his keys and wallet and headed out, still cursing Eve and Anya for making him get up.
***
“Hey, sorry I’m late!” Jack stomped his feet to get the worst of the water off of his boots and then wandered further into the catering hall. He could hear Anya yell something from another room, but it wasn’t distinct enough for him to understand. It wasn’t the most elegant or classy place he’d ever seen, but it was clean, and it smelled like food cooking. He passed through the hallway into a large
r event space and found Anya and Eve sitting at a large, round table and picking at several small plates with sample portions of food on them.
“There you are! We were wondering if you drowned in the lovely weather we’re having,” Anya grinned.
“No, just didn’t want to get out of my nice, warm bed.”
Eve peered into his face. “Especially not when you have a nice, warm hangover?”
“Yeah, well, there is that. It’s your fault anyway.” Jack slid into a chair next to Anya.
“Us? No. We’re innocent.” Anya slid him a fork. “Okay, try the steak medallions first, because I think those are my favorite.”
“I don’t care what we have as long as there is a metric ton of pasta.” Eve stated firmly and poured him a glass of water from the pitcher in the middle of the table.
“If your metabolism ever slows down, you’re screwed, you know that?” Jack picked up the fork and took a bite of the remaining beef. It was incredible, he had to admit.
“Good right?” Anya nodded.
“Yeah, wow. That’s really tender and garlicky.”
“I think he uses sous vide on a lot of this stuff. The meat is all pretty amazing.” Eve was picking at what looked like baked brie with fig preserves.
The door on the opposite end of the room opened, and a man in black slacks and a blue button-down shirt entered. He had black hair that needed a cut, almond-shaped hazel eyes, and high cheekbones. He was smiling politely, but he looked exhausted like he’d been on a three-day bender.
“Luke, this is Jack, our friend who’s making the wedding cake!” Eve stated brightly.
The man nodded at Jack politely. “Nice to meet you.” He turned back to Eve and Anya. “Can I bring you more of anything? Or samples of any of our other options?”
