by GA Hauser
Tyler shifted his weight so they pressed their chests even closer. Tyler whispered, “I’ve spent ten years wishing someone would mean something to me. That that person would see me as I am and not hold any preconceived notions or expectations. Or worse, demean me and throw my past in my face.”
Jordon felt their hearts pounding against each other through the thin fabrics of their sweaty shirts.
“I met a man who is so kind and generous, so honest and giving, I can’t say I’ve ever known anyone like him.”
Jordon began to get confused as to whom Tyler was referring.
“I’m crazy, Jordon. I know I am.”
“Who is this guy?”
After a smile in amusement, Tyler whispered, “You.”
Jordon went into the worst mixture of elation and fear he had ever experienced. Denying it with a shake of his head, he said, “I can’t.”
“I know.”
They didn’t move. Lying together, staring at each other on a bed, they were alone. Alone, but with each other.
Chapter Eight
Once they had showered and changed, Jordon met Tyler in the living room. “I can make a light dinner. We can watch the games.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely, Tyler. We’re friends.”
Tyler admitted, “I wouldn’t mind another sample of your cooking.”
“Christ, I hope I have something left. I have to go shopping.”
“Let’s call for takeout. I didn’t mean to imply you had to work.”
“No. I love it. Let me have a look at what I’ve got.” Jordon poked his head in the fridge. “Want wine? Beer?”
“You have a beer?”
“I have two.” Jordon smiled. “You like Belgian beer?”
Tyler made a face at him like it was a crazy question. “Belgian beer?”
Jordon put the two bottles on the counter, removed iced pint glasses from the freezer, and filled them up.
“Let me see the bottle.” Tyler reached out for it. When Jordon handed it to him, Tyler read the label. “Alken Maes. Never heard of it.”
“Taste.”
Tyler raised the frosty glass to his lips, sipping it. “Nice. Wow.”
“Cheers.” Jordon toasted him.
“Cheers.” Tyler gave him an adoring glance. “How did you end up being such a renaissance man, Jordon? Money?”
Jordon put the glass down and produced a bag of frozen, raw butterfly shrimp from the freezer, dropping it on the counter. Once he took out a colander and defrosted the shrimp under hot water, he replied, “Maybe. Or my parents’ influence. They were well traveled, so Bryan and I are, too.”
“But you’re so grounded. It’s not what I usually find in exceptional men.”
Jordon met his eyes instantly. “What do you find?”
“Conceit and ego.”
“You’ve been with a lot of men, haven’t you, Tyler?” Jordon began cleaning the large shrimp.
“What do you consider a lot?” Tyler wasn’t smiling.
“Ten?”
“Shut the fuck up. Ten?” Tyler frowned at him. “How many women have you screwed?”
Jordon took a moment to consider the question, doing a mental count. It was certainly more than ten. “Perhaps that was low balling.”
“Ya think?” Tyler made a face at him.
It made Jordon chuckle. He tossed the shrimp into a bowl as he cleaned them.
“And most of the men I was with were ten years ago.”
“Were you safe?” Jordon met his eyes again.
“Very. Clean as a whistle. The porn industry is fanatic about safe sex, Jordon.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Why? What difference will it make if we never make love?”
“Just because we may never have sex doesn’t mean I want to see you ill.” Jordon wiped his hands on a paper towel, dug through a cupboard, and took out a box of risotto.
“May? Did you say we ‘may’ never have sex, as in it’s possible?”
Jordon put the rice in a frying pan of butter and olive oil, and gave Tyler a look of exasperation. “How can we make love?”
Tyler choked. “You need instructions?”
“Believe me, I would!” Jordon laughed.
“Here they are. Point dick at hole. Enter. Ooh, big mystery.”
Jordon stirred the rice, chuckling. “You crack me up.”
“You frustrate the living shit out of me, Buck.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“I know. Hey, you got another one of those Fanny Maes?”
Jordon coughed with laughter and corrected, “Alken Maes. And no. Have mine.” He handed his over.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“You got anything contagious?” Tyler teased.
“Yes. My wit and personality.”
“I’ll take a chance on those.” Tyler sipped the beer. “That smells amazing. What are you ‘whipping up’ now?”
“Shrimp risotto.”
“You do realize every time you cook dinner for me, I only love you more.”
Jordon blushed at the incredible compliment and peeked over his shoulder at Tyler while he tended the rice. “My, Mr. Holliday, you certainly know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”
“Uh-uh. You’re the man in this family, honey.”
Then it occurred to Jordon how all of Tyler’s references were about being the lady. He’s the perfect fucking bottom! He’s big and brawny and loves it up the ass! “God, that just makes me tingle.”
“Sorry?” Tyler leaned closer. “I didn’t catch what you said.”
“Good.”
“Was it naughty?” Tyler asked.
“Yes. Never mind.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Tell me.”
Jordon broke up with laughter and was about to say “no” again when he found Tyler standing right behind him. Instead of announcing it, he whispered sensuously, “No.”
A low, frustrated moan came out of Tyler. It was so filled with craving it made Jordon’s skin prickle.
“Sit,” Jordon ordered.
“I hate Fawn!” Tyler dropped back down on his chair, sucking at his Belgian beer.
Though that should have made him angry and defensive, Jordon just smiled.
***
Tyler was sated on gourmet fare. The meal was restaurant quality, or better, depending on the restaurant.
Jordon made himself comfortable on the sofa in the den, using the remote to turn on the big screen plasma television. Instantly, track and field events appeared.
“Perfect.” Tyler looked back to where Jordon was sitting. In order to be able to touch him, “innocently,” Tyler sat on the soft pile rug, propped up between Jordon’s straddled legs. With both his arms, he rested them on top of Jordon’s knees. “Love pole vault. No twinks here. These are men. Big, gorgeous, men.”
Jordon chuckled.
“You mind me down here?” Tyler looked over his shoulder at him.
“As long as you’re comfortable. You want a cushion?”
“Sure.”
Jordon tossed him a throw pillow.
Tyler stuck it under his rump. It raised Tyler up so his arms were more relaxed on Jordon’s lap. “Watch this guy. I’ve seen him in the Euro competitions. Israeli. To fucking die for.” Tyler peered back again and asked, “You mind me making comments like that?”
“No. Not in the least.”
“I’m glad you have a gay brother. He broke you in. Not like I would, but he got you in the right direction.” Tyler grinned impishly.
“Look. He’s going to vault.” Jordon pointed.
Tyler’s innuendo was diverted but Tyler knew Jordon heard it. Tyler knew Jordon was aware he was hot for him.
“Nice.”
“Check out the quads on them. All these guys are so incredibly tall.” Tyler used Jordon’s legs as arm supports. It was perfect, and very comfortable.
The phon
e rang. Tyler ignored it, riveted to the action on the television.
“Hello? Hi, Bryan. I’m fine… Watching the games.”
Tyler smiled contentedly. When he felt Jordon’s fingers combing through the back of his hair, it stunned Tyler. He shivered in pleasure. As Jordon conversed with his brother, he caressed Tyler gently.
“Everything is just fine.” Jordon squeezed his knees together, giving Tyler a hug with them. Tyler gave Jordon’s legs a squeeze back.
“I don’t want to hear about them, Bryan. I told you why. Please, don’t go into detail about those films!”
Tyler spun around meeting Jordon’s brown eyes. Jordon appeared furious. His brows were knotted.
“I told you to throw them out! Yes, I did! Bryan, I’m going to hang up and I don’t want you racing over here. When I say no, I mean no. You got that?”
Jordon shook his head at Tyler as if to say, don’t worry about it. Jordon poked Tyler and pointed to the television. Another Greek god was running with the long pole.
“Fine. Tell me about your date with Adrian. Not the gory details, just in general.”
Tyler rested his head on his arms on top of Jordon’s thigh, laying his cheek down. He watched the events, feeling lazy and at ease. The light stroking of his hair resumed.
“I’m glad. Yes, Adrian is a very good man… yes.”
Tyler rolled his face downward and kissed Jordon’s leg through his jeans discreetly, nestling back to his original position of watching the set.
“Let me go. Okay, Bryan. Thanks for calling. Bye.”
When Jordon hung up, Tyler shifted to get more comfortable on his leg. “Is it okay I’m doing this, Jordon?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Tyler snuck another kiss of Jordon’s knee, smiling happily.
***
His eyes growing heavy, Jordon stifled a yawn. It was nearing eleven. “You awake?”
“Barely.”
“I have to get to bed. Work tomorrow.”
With a great effort, Tyler made it to his feet as Jordon shut off the set.
When he walked Tyler out of the room, Jordon noticed the list of bridal shops on the table. They hadn’t spoken much about the wedding plans. Oh, well.
Tyler collected his gym bag and looked around distractedly. “Am I forgetting anything?”
“If you do, I’ll get it to you tomorrow.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“You… you want to meet for a workout again?”
“That would be great.” Tyler smiled sleepily.
They stood at the door. “Should I call you a cab?”
“I can get the hotel concierge to call one if there’s none around.”
“Yes. Good.”
“So.” Tyler stood awkwardly. “I had a great night. Thanks again for dinner. One of these days I’ll have to take you out to repay you.”
“All right.” Jordon smiled.
Tyler paused, holding out his arms, the bag still in his hand.
Though Jordon hesitated at first, Jordon just ended up falling against Tyler heavily. They hugged, rocking side to side. It felt so wonderful. Jordon could sleep in Tyler’s arms.
“Goodnight, Mr. Buck.” Tyler kissed Jordon’s neck.
“Night, Mr. Holliday.” Jordon stepped back from him, seeing his sad smile.
He waited as Tyler caught the elevator, giving him a small wave. When he closed and locked the door, he couldn’t wipe the dreamy grin from his face.
Chapter Nine
The next day, Jordon walked briskly past the New York Stock Exchange’s classical revival, columned front entrance. His office building was one door down from it. When his cell phone rang, he flipped it open and stuck it to his ear. “Hello?”
“I got your message, Jordon. I can give you my list of names and addresses today if you would like.”
“Great. Thanks, Mom.” Jordon paused in the lobby.
“When do you want me to drop by?”
His face felt boiling hot suddenly. What if his mother stopped by to find Tyler in his skimpy workout outfit? “You know what, Mom? Mail it to me.”
“Mail it? That’s silly, Jordon.”
“Then wait until the weekend when Fawn is here and I have more time.”
“Okay. Are you all right? After that conversation we had--”
“I’m fine. I have to go.”
“Okay, Jordon. Call me when Fawn is back.”
“I will.” He hung up and walked to the elevators. When he stepped around the corner, Adrian was waiting for him. “Mr. Tripp.” He smiled.
“Mr. Buck.” Adrian pushed the button to go up.
Once they were inside, Adrian purred, “Your brother is divine.”
Jordon held up his hand. “You promised.”
“We’re meeting tonight to watch old porn movies together.”
“Christ,” Jordon snarled, knowing which movies.
“He said Tyler Holliday is your wedding planner.”
The doors opened and Jordon stepped out, trying to evade the conversation by walking ahead of him. It didn’t work. Adrian closed them into Jordon’s office together.
“I want to know every detail about that mouth-watering piece of ass you can give me.”
The pity Jordon felt for Tyler’s situation made him both sick and angry. “I have always been civil to you, Mr. Tripp.”
Adrian appeared surprised at the disclaimer.
“But if you ask me about Mr. Holliday, or even think of emailing and harassing that man, I will not be civil any longer. On the contrary, Adrian. Do I make myself clear?”
“Well, well!” Adrian raised his eyebrows. “You don’t even react with this kind of passion about the market. Or your fiancée, for that matter.”
“I have work to do.” Jordon sat at his desk and turned on his computer.
Adrian glided toward Jordon and propped himself up on both his arms as he leaned closer. “I adore you, Jordon, and I would never dream of jeopardizing our friendship.”
“Thank you, Adrian.” Jordon was afraid to meet his eyes.
“Tyler Holliday is a lucky fellow to have made a friend as fiercely loyal to him as you. I envy him.”
Jordon was beginning to crash and burn inside and wanted Adrian to leave. “Thank you.” He placed his telephone headset on and dialed, but it was a random number.
“Later, Mr. Buck.”
“Bye, Adrian.” The minute Adrian left, Jordon disconnected the line and tossed his headset down, gazing out of the window.
***
Tyler sat in his office with his calendar spread out on his desk, penciling in, erasing, and checking his computer emails. He had six weddings to plan at the moment, and a dozen more inquiries waiting in his inbox. All but one wedding were going as planned. They were scheduled for next summer, all the dates were available, and the timetable was stress-free. One, however, was rushed, left without any decisions to be made by anyone but him, and all the credit or blame would certainly fall on his shoulders.
“Jordon, what are you doing to me?” Tyler hissed. He picked up the phone and dialed, staring at the stacks of bridal magazines piled haphazardly on a chair, a corkboard wallpapered with menus and sample invitations, and a file cabinet that had another pile of invoices needing to be alphabetized.
“Mizzy’s Studio, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Debbie. Tyler Holliday here from Designs On You.”
“Hi, Tyler, what can I do for you?”
“I have a wedding scheduled the week before Christmas--”
“This Christmas?”
Tyler rubbed his forehead in annoyance, knowing this was going to be a challenge. “Yes. Sorry, Deb. Am I out of luck for using you guys?”
“Hang on. Let me see who’s free. Can you hold?”
“Yes. Thanks.” Tyler began ranting silently about Jordon’s indifference to details. How was he supposed to decide what size fucking portrait they wanted on their wall?
