For the Bite of It

by Viki Lyn

  Greg had left the bakery door propped open since business was slow. The smell of baking cupcakes usually enticed a stray passer-by or two.

  Vince listened in growing amusement as the driver scolded her son for trying to get out of the car before she did.

  “Johnny, how many times have I told you to wait for me?”

  “But, Mom, I didn’t get out.”

  He had a point since all he had done was open the door. And it stumped his mother for all of two seconds.

  “You were going to. I don’t want to hear any more about it,” she insisted, resorting to a mother’s age-old fall back. “Get that dog’s leash, please.”

  Vince watched the drama unfold. Finally, mom, her three kids who resembled stair-steps in height, and a shaggy white and gold terrier made it into the bakery.

  Dogs rarely liked him, smelling the animal predator in him where humans could not. Right on cue, the pet started yowling, straining against its leash, as if being pursued by a horde of cats hell-bent on revenge.

  “Oh damn. I’m so sorry. I should have asked if it was all right to bring the dog in.”

  She sounded so agitated Vince didn’t have the heart to tell her to take the dog out. But it was obvious nothing was going to get accomplished between the barking pooch and the kids trying to placate him.

  “You three,” she glanced around the bakery. “Sit over there.” She pointed an authoritative finger at an empty table.

  He expected the kids to ignore her but apparently either her voice or her hand did the trick. All three shuffled off to the chairs. The littlest one couldn’t quite make it up onto the seat.

  “May I help?” asked Vince waving a hand at the kids.

  “Please, if you don’t mind. I’ll just put Coco in the car.”

  Vince strode to the table and bent over the toddler. Big, blue eyes blinked up at him, and a mobile mouth revealed a gap-toothed smile.

  “May I help you sit down, Miss?” asked Vince with a wink.

  She nodded, her head bobbing like on a wobble-stick. He lifted her up and set her on the cushioned seat.

  “Fanks,” she trilled.

  That, he presumed was her version of gratitude. “You’re welcome.”

  He glanced at the two boys but they had clambered up and seated themselves. Judging from the growling, mom and dog had stayed to watch.

  He gave her a thumbs-up and retreated behind the counter. The long-suffering mother ran out, stuffed the dog into the car, and rolled the window down enough so it could stick a snout out. She turned to watch the silver Jeep pull up beside her.

  John! Oh, why now?

  Was this a personal visit or another interrogation? He watched as John unfolded his solid length from the vehicle and gave the woman a one-armed hug. They knew each other?

  The mystery was resolved once John entered the bakery. Neither man had time to worry about greeting each other before the kids launched themselves at John with glee. So this was the younger sister and niece and nephews.

  “Sorry about all that. I’m Julie by the way.” Mom had come up to the counter and stuck out her hand. “You know my brother, John, right? The kids wanted him to come and help choose cupcakes for the party.”

  Vince shook hands not knowing how to stem the flow of her words. He was utterly distracted and captivated at the sight of John cuddling his niece in the crook of his arm.

  “Ahem!” The loud throat clearing forced Vince’s attention back to the woman in front of him.

  “You’re quite right. Yes, I met John a while back.”

  He met her amused gaze and couldn’t help smiling back. “Sorry, I’m Vince, by the way.”

  She shot him a questioning look mixed with the sparkle of mischief. Vince tried to ignore the prickle of warning that tingled on his neck. What was she up to?

  “I know who you are. My brother recommended this place. He thinks your cakes are awesome.”

  Vince only heard mumbling after the words brother and awesome. John had recommended his bakery? Joy, irrational in proportion to the event, suffused him, making his toes curl.

  “I can see you like him, so how well do you…er…know him?”

  Shocked, Vince was betrayed into muttering. “Well enough.”

  “In the biblical sense?”

  Holy hell! He understood her knowing gaze. And she didn’t condemn either of them.

  “I was a year behind John in college. Of course, I knew what he was doing,” she added in a low voice that wouldn’t carry to her family. “Although he won’t admit it to me, I also know he’s a stubborn idiot.” She leaned on the counter with the air of settling in for comfortable conversation. “You never answered my question.”

  Vince liked her wide smile and friendly manner plus the fact she was obviously on his side, but he was not going to discuss his sex life with her. He chuckled. “I’m not answering that. So you want to order cupcakes?”

  She gave him an adorable pout. “The strong, silent type I see,” she teased. “Fine, but don’t think I’m giving up. The minute I saw you, I just knew. John has never recommended any place to me before.” She peered across at the cupcakes on display. “Are these all the kinds of cupcakes you have?”

  “I have a catalogue you can browse through.” He glanced at the table where a mini-boxing match had begun between the boys with John playing referee. “Would you like something to eat while you wait?” He nodded towards the children and John.

  “I suppose I’d better keep them occupied. I wouldn’t usually bring them but I thought they might have fun picking out the cupcakes.”

  “Of course. If you want to head off any injuries at the pass, I’ll bring your order out to the table.” He grinned to let her know he was playing along. “So what will it be?”

  With a roll of her eyes that was achingly familiar, she grinned back. “Thanks. We’ll have two chocolate cupcakes for the boys and for Ally…anything with sprinkles.”

  “Milk?” Vince suggested.

  “Only if you have cups with lids, or you’ll be wiping up spills till the evening.”

  When he carried the tray back to the table, there was an intense debate about baseball versus football-shaped cupcakes. Vince dragged up another square table to make room for the group. The kids were well-mannered and dug in after another chorus of thank you’s.

  At last, Vince had a chance to really look at John. John glanced up and his gaze touched Vince’s, then skittered away.

  Vince sighed. He was getting too old for these morning-after games.

  “Hi. John.” He placed the still-warm chocolate cupcake in front of his lover of one night.

  “Hi.” As if John couldn’t resist, his gaze flew up to Vincent’s face again, and lingered. With an effort, Vince dragged his attention back to Julie.

  “You have to try these,” he murmured, placing a cupcake in front of her.

  “God, don’t tempt me.”

  “Oh but you must. It’s a special flavor made for John.” He avoided looking at him. “Try it,” he urged. “Le Petit Mort”.

  John choked on his cupcake. Vincent took great pleasure in thumping the idiot’s back.

  Julie laughed. “Oh, I’m so glad to have met you, Vince.”

  She bit into the cupcake and sighed as dark chocolate oozed from the center.

  “Oh, this is certainly to die for.” She cocked her head up at Vince. “Join us?”

  John sat still, a silent gloomy presence, munching.

  Vince dragged up a chair and sat, slinging an arm oh-so-casually over the back of John’s chair. His fingers grazed the short hair of John’s nape. His lover stiffened and taking pity on him, Vince eased his hand back.

  “It’s Johnny’s birthday but since he had a say in picking the birthday cake for his brother, Jacob has demanded reciprocal rights,” Julie explained. “But there’s a disagreement, I’m afraid. You see, Jacob plays baseball and Johnny’s a die-hard football fan like his uncle.”

  “The football ones are chocolate,”
Vince contributed, in case that was a factor.

  “Football’s lame,” Jacob informed his brother and took a huge bite of cake and frosting.

  “Is not. Uncle John plays football.”

  “No he doesn’t,” Jacob retorted. “That’s just touch football.”

  “Guys, guys, enough,” John intervened. “The next one to interrupt the adults gets a time out.” The boys obeyed, giggling.

  “I wish they listened to me like that,” Julie wistfully interjected.

  Vince was distracted by a strange high-pitched sound that had been escalating. He glanced at Ally. She was twirling a finger in the frosting of her cupcake, frowning.

  Julie noticed his look. “Her…er…version of singing.”

  “Of course, how could I have not known?” Vince slapped his hand to his forehead. “Umm…what song are you singing?” he asked Ally.

  “Mewwy had a wittef famf,” she told him, scooping frosting into her mouth.

  “Ahh. That one.” He shot a helpless look at Julie, who hid her grin behind her fingers.

  “Mary had a Little Lamb,” she muttered.

  Vince hummed a few bars of the nursery rhyme so well known to human children, tapping a rhythm on the table and was rewarded with a vanilla frosting-enhanced smile.

  Twenty minutes later, Vince stared at the remnants of cake crumbs and drops of milk. Bemused, he shook his head and bussed the table. Julie and her mini-entourage had left, leaving behind a strong suspicion she was up to something besides ordering cupcakes for her son’s birthday. John had left, as well, having hardly said a word but after devouring two cupcakes.

  Vince fingered the paper on which she had jotted down her address accompanied by a completely unexpected invitation to Johnny’s birthday party next week. And, an order for a dozen cupcakes that her detective brother would pick up next week. You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to see Julie was playing matchmaker.

  He rubbed the cheek where Allie had left a sticky thank-you kiss. Oh hell, this got more complicated by the hour. No way was he going to Julie’s house. He could just imagine John’s reaction.

  Vince sighed with enough force to rattle the rafters on his mountain cabin.

  His heart swelled with strange emotions until he thought it might burst. He had always imagined that one day he would have a family of his own. Children were revered in his culture. Now, with one single action of a year ago, every one of those dreams had vanished like wisps of smoke blowing in the wind. But he would never see his nephew growing up.

  Nope, the white picket fence scene wasn’t for him.

  He wiped the already clean tables, regret weighing his arms, his body. He stiffened as he sensed John behind him. He turned, hope blossoming despite how grumpy John had been earlier.

  “You should have woken me up when you left.”

  John cleared his throat. “I was in a hurry. Anyway, I have to run. I just came back to make sure you’re not coming to the party.”

  Even though Vince knew it was the right thing to do, he was pissed to hear John didn’t want him there. “Why not?”

  “Jesus!” John ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Julie is being silly. I…we…I mean for Christ’s sake, my parents will be there.”

  Vince couldn’t resist. “Ah, too soon to meet the in-laws, amante?”

  John shook his head. “Don’t come.”

  He turned and strode out the bakery leaving Vince wishing he hadn’t teased. He had no intention of going to the party.

  He walked back to the kitchen, a tray piled with dishes, then back to bussing the table when he heard Angelo’s voice behind him.

  “Quite the family man, aren’t you? Have you lost your mind?”

  No, he wanted to growl. Just my heart.

  Instead, he said, “So now you’re spying on my conversations?

  * * * *

  John sat at his desk and reassembled his line of silver Kisses. He shuffled a pile of files then opened one, agitated in his inability to stay focused. Forcing himself to read the file, the words blurred, and again, his mind wandered. He’d been spacing out too much lately.

  His cell phone rang and he nervously glanced at the number, relieved it was Julie. “Hey sis, what’s up?”

  “For the Bite of It is a great place,” she chuckled. “The hunk of an owner will fuel my fantasies for months to come. Imagine him feeding you Le Petite Mort in bed, stark naked.”

  “Julie!” Yet, a rash of heat warmed his neck as he visualized Vincent on his bed, naked, except for chocolate frosting on his fingers. Been there, done that, and more. If only in his fantasies.

  He moistened his lips then smacked them shut. Those were damn good cupcakes but that didn’t make it right for him to pursue the baker, no matter how much he craved his cupcakes and that tasty body.

  “You’re crazy,” he managed to squeeze out.

  “And you’re an idiot who can’t see what’s in front of you. Vince is crazy about you.”

  There she went again.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure, brother mine. Ask yourself one question.”

  “What’s that?” he asked absently, images of Vincent and icing still crowding his traitorous thoughts.

  “How come you’ve never had a relationship with a woman?”

  “Julie,” he warned. “Don’t go there. Why the hell did you invite him to a family party? What will Mom and Dad think?”

  “God, give them some credit.”

  Julie had no idea how close he’d come to be busted by their mom. It scared the crap out of him. How would he have explained a naked man singing in his shower that day?

  He massaged the headache creeping across his skull. “I’m hanging up now.”

  “Don’t forget the party.”

  “When do I ever forget?” Shit. She needed to stop bugging him, already.

  “Your one saving grace.”

  “I live to please you,” he said, dryly.

  “Yeah, right. Oh, before I forget. Pick up the cupcakes on Wednesday.”

  Oh hell. No way, no how.

  He wanted nothing to do with Vincent, and certainly didn’t want to go to back to the bakery. He should have kept his big mouth shut when Julie had asked him for suggestions for the party. So then why did he suggest For the Bite of It, and why did he feel the need to meet his sister there? Hell, if he didn’t want to see Vincent again, this wasn’t the way to go about it.

  “Look, can’t you get someone else to them up? I work for a living. You know, your brother the important detective who solves murders.”

  “You crack me up. Wednesday before two. I’m counting on you. You don’t want to disappoint your nephews and favorite niece.”

  “Fine.” He didn’t have a choice if he wanted any peace.

  “Ally can’t stop talking about your Vincent. She calls him the cupcake man.”

  “He isn’t my Vincent. The man’s gay.”

  “And you’re not?”

  An icy pang shot through his heat. He lowered his voice “Why the hell would you say that?”

  “Intuition. Now don’t get all bent out of shape. Think about what you want. Promise me?”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  “Oh, honey, no one expects you to live up to some impossible ideal. It’s all in your head.”

  “I can’t talk about this anymore.”

  “Go bury your head in the sand. But don’t forget to pick up my cupcakes.”

  “Bye, Jule.” John slammed the receiver down, his heart in his stomach.

  My God, if his sister could read him this easily, what about others? He’d been careful to keep his sex life private, non-messy and sterile. Sex with Vincent exceeded anything he had before with a man, and ruined it for him. Now he’d never be satisfied with a quick trip to Vegas for just a fuck.

  Julie had called him gay. Oh God, she had read his heart. Did she first suspect when they had attended UCLA together? He’d first acted on his impulse
s there. Away from his hometown, it had been a safe place to experiment without the fear of being discovered. He thought he’d fooled her with the girls he’d dated back then. Maybe he hadn’t been as circumspect as he had thought.

  He stared at the coffee-stain on his desk. The light brown swirl reminded him of Vincent’s milk-chocolate skin, and those slender fingers, exploring his body, knowing exactly where to touch. He had enjoyed being in bed with Vincent.

  Then his thoughts flew back to Julie. She had nailed him.

  She’d always been able to call him out. Was he really trying to live up to some impossible ideal? All he wanted was for his parents to be proud of him, like they were proud of Mark and Julie, who despite her nonsense was the perfect wife and mother.

  Giving in to an impulse he didn’t want to examine, he dialed Julie’s number.

  “Hey. Jacob, stop pulling Coco’s tail.” Her shout almost broke his eardrums.

  “Bad time?” He grinned.

  “Nope. You probably saved your nephew’s life.”

  “What did you mean about some image I was trying to live up to?”

  Her sigh would have competed with a gale-force wind. “You think Mom and Dad are disappointed you didn’t become a lawyer. But, they really just want you to be happy. Like Mark and I do. Make your choices based on what you want.”

  “Did you? Make choices based on what you wanted, I mean?”

  He imagined her biting her lip as she mulled over his question. At last, she broke the interminable silence. “Yes and no. Get me stinking drunk one day and I’ll tell you more. Remember, it really doesn’t pay in the end if you’re unhappy.”

  He wanted to ask what choices she regretted. Instead, he took the easy way out. “I gotta run. Love you.”

  John grimaced as he slipped his phone into his pocket. Man, Julie had blind-sided him today. His younger brother Mark was the family’s golden child—Harvard grad, six-figure income and living the high life in Boston. He was also married, to a nice enough woman, maybe a bit cold for John’s taste, but beneath her prickly exterior, she had a good heart.

  He was the only one left without a girlfriend and no marriage prospect in sight, and he couldn’t imagine telling his parents he liked guys. It would break their Catholic hearts. If he followed his dick, he’d lose his family, his friends. It didn’t matter that gay cops were coming out from behind closed doors, there was still the stigma of being a fag.