by Tara Lain
Merle shook his head. Get with the program, man. You’ve got responsibilities now.
The sound of Mist peeing in the corner sent his bladder into overdrive, and he left the door open and raced back to his magnificent bathroom that he’d barely used. Ahhh.
Mist joined him with a definite doggy smile. He stared at her as he washed his hands. Food next, right? As a man and dog team, they walked to the kitchen, and he found the dry food and filled her dish. I’ll have to ask Tom how much to give her.
Shit.
As Mist dug her muzzle into the dish in the feeding station Tom had so lovingly created, Merle sat hard on the stool by the island. His pocket vibrated. What? Oh right, he’d fallen asleep with his phone in his jeans. I’m surprised I still have any charge. He glanced at the screen. “Hey, I forgot to charge this sucker, so I may run out at any moment.”
Ru snorted. “I’ll be quick. Want to meet us for brunch at Zinc? You can even bring the dog.”
“If I can find the damned leash. And yes, I’d love to. How soon? I haven’t showered yet.”
“We’ll give you an hour for your ablutions.”
Merle glanced at his watch. “See you at eight thirty.”
At least that’d get him moving. He hurried to the bag he’d left still packed in his bedroom, pulled out his charger, plugged in the phone, grabbed the charger for his watch, and did the same. Then he hopped in the amazing shower and let every jet pound him to dust while he shaved. After he’d dried off under the watchful eye of Mist, he checked the clothes hanging in the big closet. There were definitely things from his apartment as well as items he’d left at Ru and Gray’s house. Someone had been very resourceful. Sadly, he had a strong idea who.
Think about something else. He picked out some gray jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt, tied a blue sweater over his shoulders, and slipped on some tennies. Time to get serious about finding the leash. First he looked in the “Mist” cabinet. Only food and treats.
If I were Tom, where would I put Mist’s stuff?
He sighed. If I were Tom, I’d be a helluva lot nicer person.
He wandered to the window and looked out at the ocean, all restless and whitecapped today. What the fuck would I do differently?
If he’d never had sex with Tom, maybe they could be friends now. Maybe. But, Tom had come on to him. While it was mostly an accident that Tom had happened to get there first, he had. Merle would have had to turn Tom down, and that wouldn’t have encouraged a great friendship either. Right, and the idea of never having had the status-quo-shattering sex he’d experienced with Tom made him shiver. So back to the question, what could he have done differently?
Been more honest? How, when he didn’t know what the truth was?
Find the fucking leash.
He looked in the front hall closet. Nothing. Finally he opened a drawer in the laundry room. Voila. Crammed with harnesses, leashes, dog toys, brushes, and combs, it was a Weimaraner treasure trove—funded by Tom.
He pulled out a leash that matched the gray suede collar that Mist wore and hooked it to the metal loop. “Okay, girl. Show me the ropes.”
It was too far a walk to town to get there on time, so he opened his car’s passenger door for Mist, then got in the driver’s seat. Should she be in the front? The words ask Tom crept into his brain again, and he shook his head.
After a stop/start Saturday drive in Laguna, he pulled in to the parking lot across from the café with the outdoor, dog-friendly patio. Ru and Gray had wangled a parking sticker for him in advance of his move-in, so he didn’t have to use the parking meter. Mist vibrated with barely suppressed doggie enthusiasm at the prospect of an outing, and when he opened his door, she bounded across the seat and landed in front of him, doing a whole-body wag.
He smiled, grabbed her leash, and headed across the street to the restaurant. Ru, Gray, Shaz, and Billy all formed a phalanx of gorgeousness at a corner table. Ru waved at him, gesturing to the open seat next to him.
As he sat, scooching the chair to make a place for Mist to lie beside him, Ru said, “Hey, darling.” He kissed his cheek, then looked around. “Where’s Tom?”
The question landed in his gut, and he jerked. “Uh, I don’t know.”
All the guys stopped talking and looked at him. Shit! Ru raised his eyebrows. “Sorry. Guess I just assumed he might be staying. The dogs and all.”
“No. Uh, I saw him briefly, but he left and said he’d come over on Monday to dog sit.” He turned his head toward the line snaking in to the cashier—just to get away from their stares. “Have you already ordered?”
Shaz flicked a hand. “No, dear. We were waiting for you—and Tom.”
He swallowed. “Shall we?”
Shaz reached down and stroked Mist’s fur. “I’ll stay here with the puppy. Will you get me my favorite, dear?” He made smooches at Billy.
They all trooped to the order line. Ru stood behind Merle and whispered, “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Just tired.”
“Come on, darling, kid yourself if you want. Spare me.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Ru. I don’t know how I feel.” He got to the head of the line and ordered the scrambled eggs and leeks and a bagel. He’d barely eaten any pizza the night before, and his stomach protested. Of course, pizza made him think of Tom, and that made him less hungry. They created his latte while he waited at the counter, and he carried it back to the table. Mist stood and wagged at his approach.
Shaz laughed and put a hand on Billy’s arm. “Maybe we need a dog. Neither Clancy nor Yerby ever wags his tail when he sees me.”
Billy laughed. “The cats don’t, but I do.”
They concentrated on their food for a few minutes until Gray looked at Merle. “So did you and Tom have a fight or something?”
He stared at Gray. No, he and Tom hadn’t had a fight. Had they?
Billy gave him a look—half-compassionate, half-accusing. “He’s been acting strangely. I mean, the guy practically killed himself on your house, Merle, but he just isn’t himself. Tom’s always cheerful and tends to see the best in everything, except lately. I saw him working on installing a circuit at a new job a couple of days ago, and the wiring was total shit. Normally he’d be patient, but I heard him say ‘Fuck it!’ and give it up. Really not like Tom.”
Shaz leaned toward him. “Okay, ’fess up. What did you do to our favorite giant?”
“No—” He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Ru said, “Come on, sweetie, we’re on both your sides.”
“There aren’t any sides.” He spoke more sharply than he planned. “Sorry.”
Gray’s calm voice soothed his frazzle. “How do you feel about Tom?”
He shrugged and stirred his latte. “I like him. He’s a kind, honest person.”
The silence around the table made cream cheese look thin.
Merle glanced up. “It’s true.”
Ru nodded. “Of course it’s true. He’s kind and honest and sexy as hell. He’s got an indefinable charm that soothes savage beasts. And you—well, you way more than like him.”
Watering eyes pretty much blew his cover. He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “One day we were getting along fine, and the next he wouldn’t return my calls. He came over last night and stayed for a few minutes—and left.”
Ever calm, Gray said, “Why do you think that is?”
“Don’t know.”
“Really?” That was Ru.
The words were so soft he barely knew he said them. “He thinks I’m not serious.”
“Is he right?” Gray cocked his head.
Merle sighed. “I don’t know.”
They waited for him to say something more. He shoved the rest of his eggs around on his plate, then dropped a morsel to the flagstone pavers for Mist. “How would Tom fit into my life, you guys?” The sound of his spoon in the cup filled the silence.
Billy spoke softly—maybe on behalf of all blue-collar guys everywhere.
“It depends on what you want, Merle. You can have what you want.”
Shaz took Billy’s big, callused hand in his and kissed it.
Merle’s eyes flicked up, and the crease between his eyebrows felt like a knife. “Seriously? Come on, Billy, that sounds great and idealistic, but what would happen if Tom suddenly got thrust in front of the Hollywood press? Jesus, who knows what they’d say? It wouldn’t be fair.”
Billy met his eyes with none of the shy deference Merle associated with him. “Fair to who?”
Ru put up a hand. “Whoa. This is not ‘let’s all beat up on Merle’ day.” He gripped Merle’s forearm and smiled. “That’s my job.” He turned and gave Merle the full weight of his dark eyes, although there were crinkles beside them. “Seriously, sweetie, you need to do some thinking while you’re in New York. You’re giving us whiplash, so I can only imagine what you’re doing to yourself.”
Merle nodded. “Sorry. I guess I’m hoping that some bolt of clarity will come out of the sky and make the decision for me.”
Shaz waved a graceful hand. “You’ve only known me and Billy together as a couple, so I’m sure it seems fated to you, but when we met, Billy didn’t even know he was gay, much less that he’d want to spend his life with a flaming queen like me.” He slipped a slender arm around Billy’s big shoulders. “Strange things happen in the world of love, and don’t you forget it.”
Merle gazed at that gorgeous but so flamboyant face surrounded by the mane of pinkish hair. Shaz defined the least likely husband for big, blue-collar Billy, and yet they loved each other totally as far as he could see. “Do you think I should be with Tom?”
“I can’t make that easy for you, luv. The fact is that your heart has to want it more than your brain can deny it.”
Ru leaned back against Gray. “Amen, brother. Amen.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
MERLE’S MOM rocked back in her chair, sputtering and wiping at her eyes. He’d never seen her laugh so hard. “Oh my God, René, I would have tried musical theater years ago if I could have had you as a commentator.”
“At your service, my dear.” He bowed in his chair and she giggled harder, grabbing for her water glass and taking a sip, then laughing again so much she sprayed some of it on Merle’s dad and clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Sorry!”
His dad smiled at her indulgently, and Laila laughed with her. Aaron kept trying to look fascinated with René’s bon mots, but his eyes wandered after every handsome waiter. Aaron and Merle had made up their differences—at least well enough to work together harmoniously. René had invited Aaron to the show and dinner he hosted that night for Merle’s parents, guessing correctly that Merle’s mom would be a little dazzled by the gorgeous man and thoroughly entertained by the snarky brain of Laila Perrin.
His mom said, “So you’re almost finished with shooting, I’m told.” She glanced at Merle, who sat beside René who sat beside her.
René nodded. “Yes. We have the wrap party in two days.”
Merle took a sip of beer. “Of course, that’s when the real work starts for René.”
His mother looked fascinated, as she appeared to be by everything that concerned René Montrose. “Yes, the true artistry is in the editing, I’m sure.”
Merle sighed very quietly.
René waved a fork. “Without the genius of my actors, I’d have nothing to edit.”
The man made a profession of making him look good to his parents.
Merle’s mom slanted her head and gave him a pretty smile. “Will you be editing in LA or New York?”
“LA.”
She pushed some leftover rice around on her plate. “Do you ever include your actors in the editing process?” She looked up. “I mean, Merle will be close by, and I can imagine he might have a future as a director, so he could learn so much.”
René glanced at him. “I didn’t know you were interested in directing, Merle.”
“Neither did I.” He raised a brow.
His mom splayed her hands. “One can only thrive as a sexy vampire for so long, I’d think.”
“Since I’m currently twenty-five, I might have a year or two of sex appeal left in me.” He felt his jaw muscle jump.
René patted his arm placatingly. “Not that Merle wouldn’t be a great director, but beyond his leading man days, he has the skill and craft to be a gifted character actor. I suspect he won’t be abandoning his acting profession anytime soon.” René turned fully to Merle. “Of course, I welcome your vision in all aspects of the film.”
His father said, “I’ve checked the real estate values in Southern California, son. I must say, you made a wise choice in Laguna Beach. I suspect you can sell that house even now for a substantial profit.”
“Why would I want to do that?” He tried to keep from creasing his brow.
His mother shrugged. “In case you wanted to move closer to—” She glanced at René pointedly. “—your work.”
René patted his leg under the table. Right. Be calm. They meant well. And in fact, he kind of believed that for the first time. His parents were both actually taking an interest in him and his life and, for that, he had René to thank.
Merle smiled, though it only reached his lips. “I haven’t really moved in yet. Too soon to consider moving out.”
His dad nodded. “Well, just so you know.”
“Thanks.”
René asked his dad about his research and the conversation shifted—thank God. The whole evening was pretty damned amazing. Actually, the entire trip to New York had essentially blown him away. His folks had invited him to a party for their friends and introduced him as their son the actor without even cringing—almost. Then they’d agreed to attend this evening of musical theater because René had suggested it. Nuts totally.
René signed the check and said, “Why don’t we all go back to my suite at the hotel for a nightcap?”
His folks didn’t even demur, so they all piled into two taxis and crossed town to the hotel where the LA-based cast and crew were staying. When they walked down the hall toward René’s suite, Merle said, “Excuse me for a minute. I want to leave my tie and shoes in my room.”
Laila said, “Brilliant idea, darling. I think I’ll ditch my bra.” If anyone else had said it, Merle’s mother probably would have sneered, but Laila seemed to be brushed with “René magic” and could do no wrong.
Both he and Laila headed to their own rooms. He slipped inside, dumped his tie, and changed into his loafers, then decided to add his suit jacket to the pile. He so wanted to sit down but didn’t dare. The evening had been pretty fun considering that his parents were there, but the shoot had taken its toll, and he was ready to sleep for a week.
Instead of sitting, he leaned against the wall for a second. Done. The film was ready to wrap and, for the actors, was essentially over except for any last-minute retakes and, eventually, the press tour and the premiere. He could go home. Weird that he felt so torn over that idea. Like Ru had suggested, he’d used his trip to think. He’d traded nights of sleep for staring at the ceiling, missing Tom’s cock in his ass and sweetness in his life. But daylight always came with the glitter and wit of sophisticated people around him, the fun of having his parents actually seem to respect something he’d done, and the constant support of René. Lots of thinking but no decisions. Shit.
Get going. He pushed away from the wall and stepped out of his room, only to run straight into Laila coming from hers.
“Hey, gorgeous, ready to revisit the parental units?”
“Yep. Thanks so much for coming tonight. My folks love you.”
“They’re nice people.” She looked at him through her lashes and grinned. He snorted and she laughed. “They are nice—as long as you meet their somewhat elevated concept of reality.”
“You got that right.” He loved Laila. She managed to be snarky without ever being cruel and danced through the world with her own drum song playing.
They walked a few step
s back toward René’s suite. Laila said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. No guarantee I’ll answer.” He grinned.
“Are you buying what René is selling?” His eyes must have widened, because she held up a hand. “Sorry, that sounded negative. I mean, René really likes you. I’ve made two films with him and I’ve seen him with a bunch of men, but I haven’t seen him make the kind of—” She waved a hand. “—concessions he does for you. Especially since I’m gathering that you’re not sleeping together.”
They’d paused in the middle of the hall, and Merle half wanted to hug her and half wanted to run screaming from the hotel. “You’re right. We’re not having sex, and while I’ve never seen him with any other guys, I do know he cuts me a lot of slack, which I sincerely appreciate.”
“So you’re thinking about—?” She made a circular waving motion with her hand.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I like him and respect him, and God knows my parents love him.”
She gazed at him with the brilliant green eyes the press loved to talk about. “Don’t be a fucking idiot.”
“What?”
“You sound like a maiden Jane Austen would have tossed out the door.”
His mouth opened wider when the door to René’s suite gapped and Aaron stuck his head out. “Hey, you two, come on. We’re holding the champagne.”
Laila winked at him and they hurried to the suite. Everyone sat around in the large living room where René had assembled the cast more than once during the week for notes and edits. Glasses of champagne rested on every table, and René handed one to Merle while Aaron gave Laila hers.
René raised his glass. “To the successful conclusion of Truth Bites.”
They all drank; then his mother raised her glass again. “May I say we’re so delighted to have gotten to know you, René. You’re a real light in an increasingly bestial world, and Carter and I hope you’ll be a far more intimate part of our life in the years to come.”
Every hand in the room paused on its trip to the respective mouths. René’s eyes widened only slightly as he glanced at Merle. Laila gave a soft cough, and Merle’s heart stopped. He wanted to scream, toss his champagne in her face, but what could he expect? They loved René, and Merle had done nothing to assure them that he didn’t.
