by Rick R. Reed
After they finished their second drink, Jared abruptly asked, “So, Thad, what are your plans for tonight?” Jared cocked his head and fixed him with the grin that, even though Thad felt he only had eyes for Sam, was still tempting.
Thad knew where this was going. And another Thad, the pre-Sam Thad, would have followed right along, doing things that would make his mama hang her head in shame. But now the prospect of something more physical with Jared simply made him uncomfortable, as if he would be cheating. But he wasn’t quick enough to come up with anything other than “Not much. You?”
“Well….” Jared took a deep breath and increased the wattage on his killer smile. “I was hoping I might lure this hot redhead I met today back to my place.” He smiled. “He seems like the type who could take whatever I dish out.” Jared chuckled. “I live just up the hill, near Volunteer Park.” He put his hand over Thad’s. “We could be there in five minutes.”
Thad grinned politely. And pulled his hand back to let it rest in his lap. The gesture wiped the smile right from Jared’s face.
“What’s the matter, Thad? Afraid that animal will eat you up?”
Thad cocked his head. “Huh? No, I… I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I… I’m kind of seeing someone, you know?”
Jared shook his head. “Just my luck. All the good ones are taken.” He shrugged and sat back in his chair, splaying his legs in front of him, more visibly relaxed, it seemed, now that the moment had passed. Thad was glad—and liked Jared better—that the guy didn’t make a big deal out of being turned down. Maybe they could be friends, and if things went south with Sam again, maybe more.
But something Jared said had caused a tiny shiver to go through him. “What did you mean, was I afraid of some animal?”
Jared looked at him and cocked his head. “You mean you haven’t heard about the latest killing?”
Now Thad really got a chill, one that coursed up and down his spine. He flashed back to the summer, when he had read about the man on Capitol Hill—where they were right now—who had been ripped to pieces in an alley. He had forgotten it until this very moment. “No. I haven’t looked much at the news lately.”
“Yeah.” Jared leaned closer, and his eyes got bigger. “Some guy down at the Washington Park Arboretum got killed last night. It was just like that murder last month, with the poor dude being torn up and partially eaten.” Jared shivered. “It’s the second time a gay man has been killed in a known gay area. They’re beginning to wonder if there’s a connection, although it seems like both of these killings could have been done by an animal, last night especially. But here on the Hill? With all these people constantly around?” Jared hugged himself, like he was suddenly cold. “I doubt it. I just don’t see how an animal who could do that kind of damage could roam around a busy neighborhood like Capitol Hill and not get noticed. No, I think this is the work of a major psycho.” He let himself relax. “Anyway, I just wanted to be sure you weren’t afraid of me because of that. Because really, hon, I’m a sheep in wolf’s clothing.”
“I’m sure. But I didn’t even know about this second murder. You said this happened at the Arboretum?”
“Yeah. You know how cruisy that place is. There were a couple guys who saw a little of what happened, but I guess none of them was able to come up with a description other than a ‘black blur.’ Creepy, huh?”
“Very.”
Thad glanced down at his watch. Edith would be waiting at home to go outside and to have her supper. “Listen, Jared. This has been really fun. And if it weren’t for Sam, I would go home with you in a heartbeat. I’ll probably kick myself anyway for not taking you up on your offer. But I need to get home to my dog.”
“Oh? What kind?”
“A Chihuahua.”
Jared smirked.
“No comments, please.” Thad laughed. Could he have chosen a gayer breed? “Anyway, I hope we can do this again. Or maybe dinner sometime… or a movie?”
“Just not as a date, right?”
Thad shook his head. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I just need to see where things go with this new guy.”
“He must be awfully hot to make you pass up a chance at this….” Jared gestured to his body, then laughed.
Thad liked him. And if he didn’t want to further complicate his life, he knew he really should get going. So he stood and said good-bye, giving Jared a quick peck on the lips. “See you soon, okay?”
“Sure.”
Thad hurried from the bar. Edith waited. And tomorrow Sam would be waiting.
Thad couldn’t wait.
Chapter 6
THAD HADN’T realized, when he’d visited the Blue Moon Café for the first time, that there was a small apartment in the back. Sam led him through the closed restaurant, which seemed kind of lonely and abandoned in the dark, with its empty tables stacked with upside-down chairs. An echo of conversation hung in the air, yet the place seemed unnaturally quiet, as if it were waiting for patrons to return and resume their conversations where they left off.
Before they headed through the kitchen, Sam turned to him, and his chocolate-eyed gaze drank in Thad. “I am so happy you came. I don’t know if what I’m doing is right, but my heart says it doesn’t matter.”
His words made Thad tingle. Quickly Sam grabbed him and kissed him. What started out as a lighthearted peck of welcome quickly morphed into a full-blown, openmouthed, tongues-dueling lip-lock of unbridled passion. After what seemed like more than a couple of minutes had passed, Sam pulled away.
They both gasped and then laughed softly, hugging each other. Thad whispered, “You have such animal magnetism, Sam. I can’t stand it.” And he couldn’t. He wanted to throw propriety—and dinner—to the wind and just drag the man back to his apartment, where maybe something could be done about this stiffness in his pants that felt on the verge of exploding.
But real life didn’t work that way. So Thad gulped in some air, tried to think of anything other than Sam spreading himself out on top of him like some big furred beast, and said, “I’m really looking forward to meeting your family.”
“And they you. And don’t worry… we will get some time alone later.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Sam led him through the door to the family apartment, and Thad got ambushed. He couldn’t remember a time when he had been greeted so warmly and enthusiastically, especially by complete strangers. With no shyness they grabbed him and hugged him, planting kisses on both cheeks. There was lots of murmuring in Italian that Thad didn’t understand beyond “ciao” and “prego.” Then Sam cut through the clutter and pulled Thad away from the mob of people.
“Slow down, everyone! Thad is going to be frightened away by all of you. In America they are not so forward. Let me introduce you one at a time.”
Sam reached out to an old woman, small but with a dignified bearing. She had perfectly white hair, cut short and combed back away from a face Thad thought was still beautiful, stunning in its grace and warmth. He could imagine what a knockout she must have been when she was in her twenties. She wore a simple rust-colored pantsuit and gold jewelry. Her large brown eyes took him in, and she smiled. Sam didn’t need to say, “My mama. Sarah.” Once more Thad found himself enveloped in a hug and lips planted on each cheek. She pulled back to hold his hands and stare up at him as if she were deciding if he passed muster. She looked at Sam and nodded, then said something in Italian that made the others laugh. “She says you are a good one.”
Thad nodded at the woman and said, “Grazie.”
“My mama doesn’t speak English too good yet, but she will.” A young woman with long dark hair stepped forward. She had a large nose and stunning olive eyes framed in long black lashes and wore a simple black dress with a strand of what appeared to Thad’s untrained eyes to be real pearls. Tottering on spike heels, she said, “I’m Graziela,” and extended her hand. Her fingers were long, topped with manicured bloodred nails. They shook hands. “I’m very pleased to meet you.�
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“And I you.” Thad looked to Sam for further clarification. Was this the wife he’d worried about? A butterfly ascended in his stomach. What sort of night was he in for? He realized he didn’t really know Sam at all, physical attraction and lust aside.
Sam said, “This is my baby sister. She’s a beauty, no?”
“Oh yes!” Thad smiled broadly and pulled Graziela toward him to hug her. “I’m so happy you’re Sam’s sister!” God, I sound like an idiot! “I mean, I’m really pleased to meet Sam’s sister, er, you, Graziela.”
Sam smirked at him, giving a little shake of his head. “And this is Giovanni, my brother.” Giovanni’s presence had barely registered on Thad’s overwhelmed brain when the man stepped forward to shake his hand. But when he came forward now, Thad took notice. He was, paradoxically, very similar to Sam, yet very unlike him. Where Sam was broad, bearish, and muscular, Giovanni was tall and thin. The writer in Thad conjured up words like “regal” and “imperial.” Giovanni’s bearing was elegant, aided by the cut of the simple black silk suit he wore. Unlike Sam he didn’t sport a beard, but Thad could tell he was just as hirsute. Thick black stubble covered his face. He had the same penetrating dark brown eyes as his brother.
“It’s really good to meet you, Thad. Sam has told me a lot about you. Welcome to our home.” Giovanni’s English was perfect, with scarcely the trace of an accent.
Sam explained, “Giovanni came over here before the rest of us. And he spent some time in the States in his twenties also. But it was Giovanni who came first to set things up for the rest of us, after Papa was killed….”
Thad looked over at Sam in surprise. He caught a glimmer of what he could only describe as rage pass through Sam’s eyes. The group was quiet for only a second before Graziela chimed in. “Before Papa’s accident, you mean, Sam.” She gave him a pointed stare.
“Sure.” Sam glanced down at the floor. It was obvious this discussion was closed. But Thad knew there was a lot more to the story than was being said.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Sam made Thad jump by yelling toward the hallway leading off from the living room. “Hey, Domenic! You gonna come out here and meet our guest?”
Thad expected a little boy to emerge from the back of the apartment and was stunned when Domenic came out. He remembered him immediately. He was the drop-dead gorgeous bartender he had noticed on his first visit to the Blue Moon Café last month.
So this was his son? How old was Sam anyway?
Domenic came toward him, not smiling. Under different circumstances, Thad would have found the man’s gruff, surly countenance sexy, but tonight he would have welcomed a smile. He tried to elicit one from Domenic by giving him his own broad grin.
Domenic wore all black, which suited his shaved head and heavy stubble. The shirt was tight enough to reveal the powerful network of muscles lurking beneath. The word “sleek” popped into Thad’s mind. Domenic held out his hand and, when Thad took it, grasped it hard enough to hurt. “So you are Papa’s new boyfriend? Pleased to meet you.”
Thad raised an eyebrow to Sam and returned his gaze to Domenic. “Me too. I hope we can be friends.” The insecure part of Thad couldn’t help but wonder if Domenic’s greeting was tinged with sarcasm.
“For fun, we call him Demonic.”
Domenic simply shook his head, not smiling, as he gave his father a look that said Don’t even try. What he said in actuality was, “That’s right. So you should watch your step, buddy.” He gave Thad a playful—or at least Thad hoped it was playful—poke in the chest.
Dinner was beyond Thad’s wildest imaginings, in culinary terms. He knew it would be good, but the food weighing down the table that night was transporting. The tastes and smells went beyond anything Thad had experienced before. He had grown up on classic American comfort food like meat loaf, macaroni and cheese, and canned vegetables.
They started with an antipasto of small artichokes stuffed with breadcrumbs and Parmigiano-Reggiano and drizzled with fruity olive oil. For the pasta course, there was orecchiette pasta aioli flaked with red pepper, and then veal, lightly breaded and cooked in wine and lemon juice.
“You eat like this every night?” Thad asked near the end of the meal, when he felt as if he needed to unbutton the top button of his jeans and was delirious at being stuffed with some of the best food he had ever eaten.
Graziela laughed. “Not every night. We like to show off for our guests. When it’s just us, we probably not gonna do all the courses. We are simple people. And we like simple stuff like greens and beans, wedding soup with a good piece of bread, or maybe a roasted chicken.”
Sam piped in. “Of course, we often bring home what’s left from the restaurant and make a meal from that… or we eat while we’re working, usually the special.”
As Thad tried to eat—he had to be polite, after all—the gorgonzola, provolone, grapes, tangerines, and walnuts in their shells that had been laid out for dessert, he was glad he didn’t have to say much during the meal. Thad had always considered himself a bit of an introvert, and with this group, it would have been hard to compete. But the chatter at the table was nearly unceasing, much of it centering around the new restaurant, stories from the old country, and childhood reminiscences of the siblings. A good quarter of the discussion was in Italian, and Thad knew they didn’t even realize they were slipping into the native tongue until they looked at him, sheepish, and translated. He didn’t mind. He felt like part of the family.
After espresso accompanied by a small grappa, Sam announced to the group that it was time to walk Thad home.
“What? And leave the women, I guess, to clean up the mess? Things were supposed to be different in America!” Graziela yelled. Thad was afraid she was really furious until she began laughing. She shook her head, “Go on, brother, you see your friend safely home. I’ll save some cleanup for you.”
Thad made his good-nights, thanking everyone—especially Sam’s mother, Sarah—profusely and reminding them that he hoped to see them again soon. “But one thing I can promise,” he said with a smile, “is that I would never dare cook for you.”
They thought that was funny. Giovanni told him they actually liked Hamburger Helper and iceberg lettuce once in a while. Thad realized he was trying to be friendly and rib him, but he wasn’t so sure he was flattered by the assumption.
Outside, the night air had taken a real turn for the cold. Thad moved close to Sam and grabbed one of his arms, pulling it around him like a stole. Sam stiffened for only a moment, then left his arm where Thad had put it. “In my country, a man putting his arm around another man like a lover would never go over, unless, of course, the men were drunk.”
“Well, I am drunk!” Thad said. “Drunk on love.” He felt a burning blush immediately rise to his cheeks. It was way too soon to be saying such things. He hastened to lighten the mood. “God! I am so stuffed, I think I need to purge.”
Sam laid a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I don’t care who sees us. In Seattle, things are, how do you say it? Um, more laid-back?”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t go overboard yet.”
Back at Thad’s apartment, Thad hurried to take out Edith. As she sidled by Sam, as if she didn’t want to touch him or even get close to him, she snapped at him. It looked like the dog really had every intention of wounding the guy, and Sam sprang back, just out of reach of the Chihuahua’s jaws.
“Edith! That’s not nice.” He gave a placating and sorrowful glance to Sam. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what gets into her. I’ll put her in the bathroom again when I get back.” He started out the door. “I left an ashtray on the coffee table, just for you.”
“Grazie.” Sam lit up and settled into the couch. Thad glanced back at him and suddenly didn’t feel as weighed down by food as he had. Now he was experiencing a new kind of hunger, one he hoped would be completely satiated in about an hour or so.
After Thad made Edith comfortable in the bathroom with the usual trappings—he
r little shearling bed and her Kong toy stuffed with peanut butter—he stopped to admire Sam on the couch, his head lolled back and his eyes closed. He had finished his cigarette, and a haze of blue smoke hung in the air. Normally Thad would have described the cloud as “gross,” but Sam smoking, oddly, was a turn-on for him. He longed to taste the cigarette on Sam’s tongue.
Quietly Thad slipped out of his jeans, T-shirt, and sweater and walked slowly over to Sam completely naked, hoping he wouldn’t open his eyes as he approached. He also hoped Sam had not fallen asleep.
Sam didn’t open his eyes as he neared, nor did he open them when Thad straddled his lap and sank down on him, their chests and stomachs crushed together. The feeling of being naked atop Sam’s fully-clothed body was electric, and Thad got an immediate hard-on. He knew Sam wasn’t asleep when his lips curled in a slight grin and he reached back and began very gently running his hands up and down Thad’s back and ass, pausing to rub at the bumps in his spine and flicker over his crack. Thad thought the light touch and Sam’s nearness was about enough to make him come, but he would not let that happen, not for a long while, anyway. Thad leaned forward to flick his tongue in and out of Sam’s ear and to nibble at his earlobe. He buried his face in Sam’s neck, burrowing in, inhaling the scent of him: sweet sweat, smoke, and garlic. Under other circumstances Thad might have thought of these aromas as odors, but tonight they were magic, an olfactory pipeline leading straight to Thad’s genitals. For Thad they made a direct connection to both Sam’s heart and his libido. The roughness of Sam’s beard grating against his skin just about put Thad over the top. He pulled back—reluctantly—and moved his lips to Sam’s mouth. They ground their lips together, their tongues dueling, tasting each other and ratcheting up the passion. All the while both Sam and Thad frantically unbuttoned Sam’s shirt and pulled it off—the mat of fur there felt like heaven against Thad’s smooth pecs. Then they shifted and bucked to get down Sam’s pants.
