by Tara Lain
Bobby’s voice sounded oddly serious. “But I want to resist. I need to grow up. I don’t want to be an aging twink.”
“You’re twenty-four.”
“And soon I’ll be twenty-five.”
Robin glanced at Bobby. “We’ll be twenty-five. Would you leave me abandoned in the world with my dick hanging out all alone?”
“You should settle down too.”
“I’m not the type.”
“You were willing to give up the others if JJ said yes.”
Shit, that still hurt. “Who knows if I would have remained faithful? Besides, there’s only one JJ.”
Bobby nodded. “The queen who looks like a quarterback.”
Robin had never had a real chance with JJ, especially after he’d gotten one look at Ryan Star. JJ was too kind and good—more like Bobby. He’d never have gone for Robin long. Too depressing to think about. Yeah, so he thought about it all the time.
He turned the Prius into the carport behind their hillside Laguna apartment and climbed out to help Bobby. He took care of Bobby without even thinking. Always had, no matter what.
Bobby looked up at him with those big blue eyes that matched his personality so well—and so totally didn’t match Robin’s. “Please take me seriously.”
“Look, if you want a steady boyfriend, I’ll go out and hit one over the head for you with my club and drag him back to our lair.”
Bobby leaned his head on Robin’s shoulder as they walked into their place. “Too exhausting tonight. Do it tomorrow after the interview. Have to sleep. So important.”
Robin half dragged Bobby to his bedroom, plied him with a heaping teaspoon of powdered vitamin C in water, stripped him, tucked him in, and turned off his lights. He wandered toward their living room, flopped on the couch, and rested his head in his hands.
It looked like he took care of Bobby. Had since they were small children. They always said that Robin was the oldest by five minutes, so he was responsible. But if anything happened to Bobby, Robin wanted to throw up. It was like the light went out of the world. Shit, the time Bobby’d fallen out of that damned tree because he tried to follow Robin up it, Robin ran to their bedroom, crawled under his covers, and trembled for hours. He’ll be better in the morning.
Robin collapsed on his side and pretended he was dead.
“NOOOO. COME on, dammit. Get out of bed. There’s no fucking way I’m doing this.” Robin ripped the comforter off Bobby, glared at the slim, bare backside that looked remarkably like his own, then yanked on Bobby’s limp arm.
“Mmmmfft.” Bobby obviously had enough strength to pull his arm back—hard. “Too sick. Leave me alone.”
“Robert McMillan, you had enough energy to fuck an architect. You can’t be too sick.”
“Am.”
“Fucking shit!” Robin threw his arms over his head, then crumpled forward into a hunch. “Can’t do this. Can’t. It’s not our deal. I paint. You market. Can’t. Nooooo.” He shook his head and made the moaning sounds coming from his mouth as pitiful as possible.
Bobby rolled to face Robin, pulling the covers back over himself. He slapped a hand against his mouth and burped, then panted. Okay, he looked awful. Even his platinum spikes had wilted to dead stalks of straw. “I’ll barf on the prospective clients. I was throwing up half the night. You can’t be worse than that.”
“Wanna bet? I hate clients, prospective or otherwise. You know that.”
“If we get this commission, it could make the whole year work. We wouldn’t have to scrape for the rent.”
Robin flopped in the chair beside his brother’s bed. “If we got it, which we won’t if I go, it would overlap with the Sawdust. That’s where we make most of our money.”
Bobby’s usually pink skin looked greenish. “Yes, and where I do most of the selling, which I’ll do again this year while you paint. You’re better than me anyway.”
“Not true.”
“You know it is. You got all the tortured-soul talent while I got the sunny salesmanship.” He burped.
Robin raked the midnight curtain of hair from his face. “Which is why you have to go today, Bobby. I just can’t. Please.”
“If I could go, I’d never ask you. You know that.”
Shit. Yes, he did know that. “You know how to hurt me.”
“Of course. We have identical DNA, darling.” He pulled the comforter tighter. “If we get it, you don’t have to take a single cooking job all year.”
Robin wrapped his hands behind his head and sank onto his knees. “If I never have to cook another meal, it’ll be fine with me.”
“But you’re so good at it.” Bobby belched unbecomingly. Not something he’d ever do if he could help it. “Please, don’t mention food.”
“Gladly.” Weirdly, the main thing his grandmother had bequeathed to him was an amazing proficiency in the kitchen. All those years helping her pull shit from the oven, feeling punished because he wasn’t “man” enough to go outside with the boys. Bobby hadn’t cared. He’d been happy petting the kitties and made friends despite already being “different” at five and six. Robin hated every fucking asshole who tormented him. Plus Bobby never had to spend a weekend with Uncle Harold. Yeah, Robin made sure of that.
“Get this commission, and we can both pick and choose what we do for the rest of the year.” Bobby slapped a hand to his face. “Oh God, gonna barf again.” He leaped from the bed and ran naked into the bathroom.
Robin grabbed the wool afghan from the back of the chair, walked into Bobby’s narrow en suite, and wrapped it around the shoulders of his twin, who was painting the toilet in vomit. Robin leaned against the sink. “We can’t pick and choose when we’ll be breaking our backs on a scaffold for months.”
Bobby popped an arm against the cabinet and rested his head on it. “Robin, either do it or don’t. I haven’t got the strength to argue with you.”
Robin sighed. When Bobby ran out of patience with him, it was over. His brother had boundless energy and a true heart of gold, and only on rare occasions did Robin stretch him to breaking. This appeared to be one of those times. If he refused to go do the thing he hated most in life—and that was saying something, since he hated a lot of things—it wasn’t just his own future he was messing with. It was his brother’s too. He might not give a shit about 99.9 percent of the humans on the planet, but Bobby, he loved. “I’ll go, but I’ll fuck it up, and you don’t get to say shit about it, got it?”
Bobby dropped his head in the bowl and barfed.
More from Tara Lain
A Balls to the Wall Romance
A “pumped up” version of the Volley Balls story, twice as long as the original.
A double dose of alpha male might be better than one.
Despite just getting out of an abusive relationship with an asshole alpha, David Underwood’s wandering glance lands on two hot members of the Australian volleyball team on Laguna Beach and gets him harassed again. Still, when the delicious Gareth Marshall proves his interest by coming out to his team, David succumbs to his attraction. But Gareth’s volleyball partner, Edge, who’s equally hot, makes the lovers’ lives miserable.
For Gareth, a lifetime of hiding his orientation—and his attraction—from his best friend, Edge, as well as everyone else around him, adds up to hurt and frustration. David’s the first man to ever compete with Edge for Gareth’s passion. But Edge has secrets of his own, and David’s ex-lover will never be happy without David under his fist. With everything stacked against him, can a gay Laguna man find happiness with an alpha male–or two?
A Balls to the Wall Romance
Renowned artist Rodney Mansfield stands five foot six, has pink hair, six earrings, a black belt in karate—and a desperate yearning for firefighter Hunter Fallon. But Rod, the Runtback of Notre Dame, knows he’ll never land the beautiful “straight gay” guy, so Rod musters his altruism and helps his more masculine friend Jerry attract Hunter. As if a broken heart wasn’t enough, Rod saves Hunter from
a firehouse homophobe—humiliating Hunter in front of his dad!
Hunter lives a dream life—his father’s dream. While he’d like to teach literature in college, read poetry in the sun, and find a strong guy to top him, he fights fires for his dad. Hunter hates flamboyant guys like Rodney. So why can’t he resist him? Maybe it’s time to admit this is one flame he has no desire to put out.
A Balls to the Wall Romance
Adam James is so far in the closet he could find Narnia. As an attorney for the homophobic WMA Development, he can’t come out without risking the million-dollar paycheck waiting for him once they push their big land development deal through the city council—money that will finally allow Adam to live according to his own terms. Then, on an early morning scuba dive, Adam meets a tall, lean rebreather diver named Sky who makes him want to hug a tree.
Sky Sea Mickeljohn stands for the environment, world peace, and being openly gay. He won’t compromise his principles for anyone—even the damned lying developer lawyer he can’t help lusting after. True, the WMA land development deal could put thousands of people at risk, but Sky still wants to risk his heart. In the fight between freedom and integrity, is there a place for love?
Sequel to Fire Balls
A Balls to the Wall Romance
Can two men with skewed self-images see their true reflections in each other’s eyes?
Jerry Wallender—firefighter, surfer, and occasional nude model—knows he’s no rocket scientist. So why does he keep choosing intellectual guys who make him feel dumber? He worked his buns off to overcome his reading disability and pass the firefighter’s test, and he loves everything about the job. Well, except for Mick Cassidy, the big, blond, hunky homophobe who harasses Jerry for being gay. But Jerry is smart enough to realize it’s not hate driving Mick, but the pain of a very unhappy upbringing.
Mick Cassidy, Firefighter Assist and Search Team, fights fires, but he can’t fight his attraction to the kindest, most generous—and sexiest—guy he’s ever met. Does that make him gay? If it does, he just might get himself killed by his gay-hating preacher father—and take Jerry down with him.
A Balls to the Wall Romance
Though only twenty-six, single father Theodore Walters lives with his head in the clouds and his feet firmly planted in reality. At the center of his life is Andy, his seven-year-old son, with whom he shares no DNA, though nobody—including his religious-fanatic in-laws—knows that, and Theodore will do anything to keep them from finding out. Theodore works hard to get his PhD and the tenure and salary that might follow to make a better life for Andy—but the head of his department thinks his dissertation on Jane Austen and romance novels is frivolous.
Theodore’s carefully planned life goes off the rails when he walks into a popular Laguna Beach bar and meets the bartender, “Snake” Erasmo, a pierced and tattooed biker who sends Theodore’s imagination—and libido—soaring. Snake has even more secrets than Theodore and couldn’t be a less “appropriate” match, but he might be the only guy with the skills to show Theodore that happily ever after is for real.
TARA LAIN writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Erotic Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, and Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. Readers often call her books “sweet,” even with all that hawt sex, because Tara believes in love and her books deliver on happily-ever-after. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. Her love of creating book titles comes from years of manifesting ad headlines for everything from analytical instruments to semiconductors. She does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soulmate husband and her soulmate dog (who’s a little jealous of all those cat pictures Tara posts on FB) in Laguna Niguel, California, near the seaside towns where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says that on her tombstone, it will say “Yes!”
Email: [email protected]
Website: www.taralain.com
Blog: www.taralain.com/blog
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By Tara Lain
Return of the Chauffeur’s Son
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
COWBOYS DON’T
Cowboys Don’t Come Out
Cowboys Don’t Ride Unicorns
DREAMSPUN DESIRES
#5 – Taylor Maid
LONG PASS CHRONICLES
Outing the Quarterback
Canning the Center
Tackling the Tight End
LOVE IN LAGUNA
Knight of Ocean Avenue
Knave of Broken Hearts
Prince of the Playhouse
Lord of a Thousand Steps
Fool of Main Beach
PENNYMAKER TALES
Sinders and Ash
Driven Snow
Beauty, Inc.
Never
TALES OF THE HARKER PACK
The Pack or the Panther
Wolf in Gucci Loafers
Winter’s Wolf
PRINT ANTHOLOGIES
Balls to the Wall – Volley Balls and Fire Balls
Balls to the Wall – Beach Balls and FAST Balls
The Pack or the Panther &Wolf in Gucci Loafers
Sinders and Ash and Beauty, Inc.
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Snow Balls
© 2017 Tara Lain.
Cover Art
© 2017 Reese Dante.
http://www.reesedante.com
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.
Digital ISBN: 978-1-63477-366-9
Published December 2017
v. 2.0
First Edition published by Etopia Press, 2012.
Printed in the United States of America
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