I looked at the label. It was a 2008 Bedrock Old Vine Red Zinfandel. “It’s a good wine. Really good. But you’re using the wrong glass. These are white wine glasses,” I said, smirking at him and holding up the small wine glass. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach ya what you need to know.”
We talked comfortably over the next hour about where we grew up and went to college. I told him about my five sisters, which he ‘doffed his imaginary cap’ to me, as he only had to ‘put up with’ one. He revealed that he was from Melbourne, Australia. Ah, the accent! This had gotten stronger with each beer he’d had at Fat Joey’s, and now with the glass of wine. His mother was Australian, and his father was American. The two met when her father was taking a semester abroad for his college degree, mechanical engineering. He ended up staying in Australia and marrying “Lonnie.” Instantly I thought of my middle son Carter, who was now in Pompeii, Italy for his archeology degree. Carter had mentioned that he was “seeing someone” and I started to wonder if he would fall in love and stay in Italy. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Tanner moved to the United States when his father’s company transferred him to New York. Tanner was only twelve. He was recruited by Indiana University to play soccer, where he also earned a computer science degree. He had been playing soccer since he was four. When I told him about my growing up in Ohio, he actually knew the town I grew up in outside of Toledo from playing against the Toledo Chargers, the soccer team for Toledo, OH—apparently.
“I didn’t even know there was a soccer team for Toledo. I guess if we’re going to start hanging out together, there’s going to be a lot about the sport I’ll have to learn,” I laughed. That comment, for some reason, struck Tanner as funny. As he started to laugh, he accidentally spilled his red wine on his crisp white button down shirt. His jeans were a dark blue, so if he’d gotten any wine on them, no one would know, but the shirt looked ruined.
“Shit!” he said, setting down his glass while leaping up from his chair, quickly unbuttoning the shirt, revealing an incredible upper body. If playing soccer built a body like that, maybe I should start playing. He was ripped, with a body every grown man wanted for himself. I worked out regularly, running and weights—well, Nautilus machines, at the gym, but my pecs, abs, shoulders, and arms looked nothing like his. Tanner wasn’t much younger than I was, just six years, I’d learned.
And he had tattoos. Low, under his insane abs off to the right and above the jeans that sat low on his trim waist, was a saying. I didn’t take the time to read it, because my eyes quickly raked over the rest of the artwork. A flame on his sculpted upper right pec with 1999 coming off the top, and in the center of the flames and a boxy logo with C in the middle of it and an S woven through the C. Under the flames was a set of Olympic rings. Has he gone to the Olympics? As he turned to the side and tossed his shirt onto the chair, I spotted on the inside of that forearm burned a candle with the name David, and the date 9-11-01.
Without warning, I became painfully distracted, and embarrassingly aware, of the fit of my jeans. What the fuck? I was sporting a hard-on. From looking at Tanner’s chest? What? I quickly swallowed the last of my wine and stood, looking at my watch and realizing that it was late anyway.
“Well, Tanner. It’s been a fun night, but it’s late and I have a client tomorrow and piles of work to get done. I gotta call it a night,” I rushed, practically tripping over my sentences like my feet were tripping over themselves. “Club soda should get that stain out, but don’t let it dry,” I added hastily as I fished my keys out of my pocket as quickly as I could so I didn’t draw attention to my…situation.
“Sure, mate. No problem,” he said looking at his own watch, his Australian accent thicker now. “Oh, wow. It’s already midnight. Sorry.”
“No worries,” I said. “I should have your preliminary plan drawn up by Friday. You can swing by and pick it up. Just give Morgan a call and she’ll let you know if it’s ready,” I said, carefully making my way to the door, hoping and praying that Tanner didn’t notice the bulge in my jeans. What the fuck?
“Yeah, sounds good,” he said smoothly, following me to the door.
“Take care,” I said pulling the door open and letting myself out.
“Okay. See ya Friday,” he said behind me as I was opening the door to my Bimmer.
I quickly got in, fired up the engine, and took off, panic and fear racing through me. I didn’t know what had gotten into me. Getting a boner from looking at a man? I combed through my brain to come up with any reason for that to have happened.
~ It had been a while since I’ve had sex.
~ Tanner’s a jock.
~ Tanner’s not ugly. No, not ugly by a mile. And that body…
Shit!! Not only did my boner not go down, it was now beating at the front of my jeans like it used to when I was seventeen. My heart was pounding and filling my ears with a loud drumbeat.
I shook my head and didn’t know what to do. Baseball. Think of baseball. The Giants lost. Again. It was a bad game. Bad pitching. Bad fielding. At bat wasn’t bad. We got eight runs. But the Pirates got twelve. Good. This is working…. Keep it up. I continued my analysis of the game for the remainder of the ride home. And doing anything and everything I could to keep my thoughts off of one Tanner Williams.
I watched as Greg’s BMW raced down the road and couldn’t figure out what happened. We’d been getting along famously. All evening. Just like the first night we’d met. Laughing easily; talking comfortably. He drove me home… classic sign of interest, accepted my invitation to come in. We talked about our youth histories, then my wine “spilled,” I took off my shirt, and Greg was out of here like his ass was on fire.
His last boyfriend must have really hurt him. I had left more than a few openings for him to tell me if he was seeing someone or not, but I didn’t press. Definitely not a wife. He’d ruled that out the first night. Major score for me. I wasn’t quite sure that first night we met. I did get the feeling that he’d been burned by his last relationship, so I didn’t push.
I wasn’t about to bring up mine. It was hardly a break up anyway. I was better off without Jonathan.
CHAPTER 3
“Tomorrow night? Mixed grill? Sounds great,” Jim said over the phone.
I had been up all night, my head all over the place regarding the way my stupid body reacted to Tanner taking off his shirt. I figured that I needed to hang out with my friends, married or not, and toss out the idea that Tanner would be my new best friend… a couple of single guys enjoying each other’s company. I mean how could I, or he for that matter, after I reacted that way. He must think I’m a freak. So I came up with inviting my ‘old’ friends all over for some grilling this Friday. Get back to the familiar. Get back to how things used to be—well, without my wife.
“Jess will want to bring something. What can I ask her to bring?”
“Whatever she wants. I’ve got the steaks, shrimp, baked potatoes, salad and wine covered. Aaron said Nicole wants to bring a cheesecake or something.”
“Alright. I’ll let you know what she’s planning on later today. Probably a cheese plate. And Greg?” he said, silence dropping over the line.
“Yeah?” I asked, filling the nearly awkward silence.
“Good to hear from you, man. Really good. Jess and I were getting kinda … you know… worried I guess. Hadn’t heard much from you since…and the blind dates Jess arranged…Just because you and Elizabeth… you know…” Jim had never been a wordsmith. Not that I was a wizard, but Jim always had a hard time talking. I thought the poor guy was going to pass out when he did the toast as the best man at my wedding to Elizabeth. He read the whole thing, and even then, it was dicey.
Jim was my best friend since college. He was the Best Man at my wedding to Elizabeth. Jim’s wife, Jessica, was Elizabeth’s Maid of Honor. That was when the two of them met. They actually got pregnant within the month, married right away, an elopement, and moved to California, where Jessica’s family hailed. We h
ad our first kids within a couple of months of each other. Jim was a chemistry major in college, and found a job at a vineyard working with a vintner. Now, he and Jessica had their own wine making business. They made small batches, but had a great time working together. They were an inspiration, both in their relationship, and business.
“Yeah. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so quiet. But, I’m good. I swear. Onward and upward, right?” I said, forcing a smile, hoping Jim heard the smile, not the apprehension. We had known each other for nearly thirty years though, and getting anything by him would be tricky. We hung up and I put in a call to Marc to invite him and Ana.
I put my nose to the grindstone, and tried to get Tanner’s preliminary plan laid out, something for him to look at over the next week and then we’d fine-tune his strategies. As I worked, I could hear Tanner’s laugh in my head, I could see his smile, and I could definitely see his chest and shoulders and abs and his tattoos. It seemed that the more I tried to put thoughts of him aside, the stronger they grew. I was just about to get out of the office and go clear my head when Aaron knocked.
“Hey, Boss,” he said, stepping in and grinning at me. He always called me boss, even though it wasn’t true. We were partners in this business. Fifty-fifty. He simply liked to point out that I was five years older than he was.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Just checking in; looking over the client load. You’re really pounding them out. Another new one yesterday? We’re gonna have to bring in another brain at this pace.”
“Yeah, well, this latest one is just… I don’t know.” Suddenly, I had a touch of the ‘Jim’s’ unable to put together a sentence.
“Tell me,” Aaron urged.
“He’s a professional soccer player. Plays for the Chicago Smoke, but retiring from playing. Going to coach for the new team in Sonoma.” Just in those few words, my mouth grew dry thinking about the body playing soccer had given Tanner. Stop it! I scolded myself.
“The Conquistadors!” he said. “Jeremy is so excited that a pro team will be so close by.” Aaron had a sixteen year old son who, I’d forgotten, played varsity soccer for the high school. “Nice ‘get’,” he said. “Well, I’ll let you to it. See if you can work out some tickets for Jeremy and his buddies, ’Kay?”
“Yeah. You bet.” With that, Aaron left. I took a few breaths, and again buckled down trying to put my own stupidity aside. Just because I got—aroused—last night was nothing. I just really needed to get laid. With that thought, I packed up for the day, and headed to the bar early. I was going to pick up a girl tonight if it killed me.
Half an hour later, I walked into Chauncey’s, a favorite restaurant of mine in town. I almost went to my regular bar, The Sports Den, but I needed something different. Maybe I was a little afraid that Tanner would be there. The hostess offered me “a table for one,” but I quickly passed on that since my goal today was to find a woman, and headed to the bar. Scanning the small space, I saw small groups of friends, I saw a girl who had to be half my age, and a couple of guys who looked to be in the middle of a business meeting. I was just about to give up on this idea of picking up someone when I spotted this nice looking lady with long reddish hair, and a fantastic ass, sitting at the bar with an empty seat next to her. Bingo.
“Is this seat taken?” I asked. She looked at me with beautiful green eyes, and her nose sprinkled with adorable freckles.
“Nope. All yours,” she smiled.
The bartender was quick to approach and I ordered a drink for me, and asked the bartender to also bring a fresh drink for Miss Red.
“Greg Fairchild,” I said, offering my hand to shake.
“Katie Thompson,” she said, and took my hand.
We chatted briefly and I learned that she was with a wine company in the Portland, Washington area, in town for a vintner’s conference in Napa. We chatted about the local wine industry and had a generally pleasant discussion. It was about seven and I desperately reached into my mind for a line to get this nice woman to bed and take care of this need of mine to get laid, but came up empty.
Feeling like a total loser, I was just about to call it a night and head home to another lonely night and possibly a little slapping the monkey, when Katie asked, “So, are you single Greg?”
Twenty minutes later, we were both sweaty, and I was beyond embarrassed.
“You’ve probably just had a long day, or week,” she said sweetly, too sweetly—pathetically sweet, you could say. “Listen, I have an early morning… I’m gonna take a shower. You can let yourself out?” she half asked, pulling the sheet around her as she headed toward the bathroom, and leaving me under the hotel coverlet.
She stopped at the bathroom door and turned to me quickly, “It was nice meeting you, though.” She closed the door and the water started running.
Shit! I cursed, jamming my hand through my hair. Here I was with a beautiful woman, with amazing tits and a fantastic ass, and I could only get medium hard. I could get an erection. Where the fuck was my boner from last night at Tanner’s? I asked myself. And there it was. Like magic. The mere mention of Tanner, even in my head, and my cock started to tingle and swell to an impressive size.
No…no, No, NO! I said to no one, my breathing picking up and panic starting to flood my addled mind.
I jumped out of bed and shoved my arms into the sleeves of my shirt that I’d left crumpled on the floor. I didn’t even bother with the buttons and pulled on my underwear and pants. I could barely get my pants zipped my wood was so hard now.
This cannot be happening. This is absurd! I shouted in my head as I shoved my feet in my shoes and left the room. Why was this Wednesday going like a Monday?
It was Friday, mid-day, when I finally tucked Tanner’s preliminary plan into a Fairchild & Dolan folder. It had taken me all morning to clearly put the pieces together that Tanner and I had discussed, concentration being my biggest burden this morning. Typically, a project like this would take me two hours, three tops, to put together, but with my sex crazed mind, it had taken me a day-and-a-half to organize.
Tanner would be calling soon to see if it was ready, and instead of him having to meet with me, after I’d made such a scene the other night, I’d do us both a favor and simply have Morgan hand the folder over. Just as I was approaching Morgan’s desk, Tanner strode through the front door, making the bell that hung on the window jingle merrily. My heart did the same. Maybe I was having a heart attack. I was turning forty-six in a few months after all. It could happen.
“Hey, Greg. Good to see you,” Tanner said easily, the awkwardness of the other night not appearing anywhere in his actions or tone. Also nearly gone was his accent.
“Tanner. Hi. Good to see you, I have your prelim right here,” I said lifting the folder.
“Oh good,” he said. “Can we take a look at it?” His eyes glanced at my office door.
I quickly ran through reasons in my head why he shouldn’t. “Um, Morgan. What does my afternoon schedule look like?” I asked praying that something was on the docket, when I knew that my afternoon was clear.
“Not a thing, Mr. Fairchild,” she smiled after a couple of clicks on her computer.
Swallowing hard, I motioned for Tanner to walk into my office. Tanner smiled effortlessly and headed in.
We took our respective seats, me behind the desk, and him in one of the two chairs in front of me. I quickly reviewed the plan that had taken me longer than usual to put together. Taking the closed folder in his hands, Tanner sat back and smiled. “Thank you, Greg. I can see you love your job.”
I shrugged. “Just numbers, but yes. I enjoy the simplicity of the expected, and the thrill of investments.”
“Listen,” Tanner said after a moment. “If you happen to find yourself in the Chicago area this summer, you should come see a game. Definitely next year when I’m coaching the Conquistadors. Just let me know and I’ll leave tickets at the gate for you.”
Feeling that Tanner was just being friend
ly, I relaxed. It’s possible that Tanner didn’t even notice the awkwardness of the other night. I mean why would he have been looking at my pants as I beat my hasty retreat? It was late, he even acknowledged that fact. And once I was able to fix my ‘dry spell,’ I was sure I would be just fine. We got along well, and like I’d thought before, having a single guy friend would be great. We could go pick up chicks together. And with Tanner’s good looks, we were certain to pick up really hot girls.
“That sounds good. I love Chicago. It’s been a few years since I’ve been. Friends of ours used to live there, and we visited all the time, but they split up and now it’s just… well, anyway. Thank you for the invite. When’s your next game?”
“We play again on Wednesday, then following Saturday. I head back tomorrow night.”
Tanner smiled and I instantly felt calm. He was relaxed, I should be relaxed. Whatever happened between the two of us the other night was all in my head, and my problem. He just was being a good guy. “So, I’m having a few friends over for some mixed grill tonight. Some shrimp on the barbie” I joked in my best Australian accent. Thankfully, he laughed with me. “If you don’t have plans tonight, why don’t you come by? Make some more friends in the area. But if you’re busy, it’s no big deal.”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” he said carefully.
“Not an imposition. Really. You should come by.” I paused, with his comment—suddenly thinking, Wait. Maybe he did notice something the other night?
“Well, okay, then. I’ll bring a bottle of wine? Any suggestions?” he asked.
“I’m sure anything you choose will be fine. We’ll have shrimp and steak. Nic and Aaron are bringing a cheesecake, Jim and Jess, probably a cheese plate.”
“Sounds good. Thanks. What time?”
“Seven?”
Unexpected Dreams: Dream Series, Book 4 Page 3
