“Where are you from?”
“San Francisco.”
“Cool,” the guy exclaimed, “I’ve always wanted to visit.”
“It’s a lovely city. Are you allowed to take a break? I can give you a virtual tour of my town.”
Ice Cream Boy glanced at his watch. “I’m actually due for a thirty-minute break very soon. Where would you like to meet?”
No kidding? NO KIDDING? “Umm, I’m with my friends over there.” Lil pointed at Jody and Clark.
“Isn’t that Stevens?”
“You know football?”
“Everyone in Chicago knows their Bears.”
“I suppose so. Why don’t you meet us over at the picnic area down yonder,” Lil said as he pointed in the general direction of the small grove of trees he’d spotted earlier.
“I can do that.”
“What’s your name?” Lil had to know.
“It’s Grier.”
“That’s different.”
The guy shrugged and rewarded him with another smile. “That’s my name; what’s yours?”
“Lil.”
“Short for Lily?”
“Silly boy,” Lil said, laughing, loving his teasing smile. “It’s short for Lyndon Lyle Lampert, if you must know.”
“Such a mouthful.”
“Indeed,” Lil replied. God, he’s gorgeous!
Lil made his way back to his friends, who’d been observing the mating game.
“Caught a twink?” Jody asked, noting Lil’s enthusiastic smile.
“I don’t think he qualifies as a catch, Jodes. Let’s just consider this a nibble.”
“You may take this Taste of Chicago to a whole new level,” Clark interjected.
“And how is that wrong?”
“Not wrong, Lil. Just be careful,” Clark said. “You know nothing about that guy.”
“And he knows nothing about me,” Lil countered, “yet he’s willing to take his chances and join us for a few minutes.”
“Come on, let’s try and find some shade,” Clark said. His normally golden skin was showing some signs of sunburn after so many hours of exposure. They found a spot underneath a large tree, recently vacated by a family of five who were kind enough to leave them their blanket, thereby saving their place.
Lil threw himself beside his two buddies, who’d stretched out happily. “This is the life,” he said, folding his arms underneath his head. “Who knew you had such gorgeous men in this town?”
“We aim to please,” Jody deadpanned.
“So please aim,” Clark threw out, ducking when Lil tried to cuff him.
“Who said anything about doing the nasty? We’re going to talk.”
Jody glanced at his watch. “I’ll wager that by this time tomorrow you’ll have him in the sack.”
“From your mouth to God’s ear.”
“I don’t know anything about God’s ear. I believe in your supreme powers of seduction,” Jody said with a laugh.
“I don’t know, Jodes. I’m not a young ’un no more.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re thirty-seven with the body of a twenty-seven-year-old, although you look better now than you did ten years ago. You’ve filled out and don’t look so scrawny.”
“Listen to you.” Lil flipped over onto his stomach and pushed up on his elbows, looking down at his friend. “I’m talking about my state of mind, Jody. I’m not into one-nighters anymore.”
“Since when?”
“Since I realized it’s so pointless. I’m not going to find the man of my dreams by commando dating. Quick in and quick out doesn’t make for the best backdrop to a fairy-tale ending.”
“You still believe in that?” Clark asked seriously. “I thought you were more jaded.”
“After watching your story unfold, it’s hard not to believe in love,” Lil said.
“I’ll cross my fingers for you, Lil. You deserve to find the right guy, although I doubt that Ice Cream Boy is the one.”
Lil broke out in a self-conscious laugh. “He’s absolutely delicious, though.”
“I’ll give him that much,” Clark agreed.
Jody jabbed Clark’s rib cage with a sharp elbow. “Ow. I’m only making a statement, Jo.”
“You were ogling him.”
“Was not!”
“Was too,” Jody teased, “but I’ll give you a pass this time; he’s fucking hot.”
“You guys, shut up. He’s walking this way.”
All three men turned to watch Grier approach. It was like watching an advertisement for body-building supplements. Grier was perfect, as tall as a ramp model, easily six-three, and just as graceful. He smiled at a couple of people he recognized, stopping to chat briefly before breaking away and resuming his walk toward Lil and his friends on the blanket. Grier appeared relaxed and unaffected by the stir he created as men and women followed his progress across the grassy area. Lil couldn’t keep his eyes off him, even though he had serious doubts about asking Grier to join them. He knew nothing about the boy, and yes, he did consider him a boy, although he was probably somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty-two or twenty-four. Nonetheless, he was way too young for Lil, an improbable hookup, and a total waste of time since nothing could come of this.
“Hi there, Lyndon Lyle Lampert,” Grier joked, in a throaty voice, as sexy as his body. He flopped down on the blanket, and every one of Lil’s objections was trumped by the sight of that gorgeous smile.
“Hi, yourself,” Lil echoed. “Let me introduce you to my friends. This is Jody Williams, and of course, his famous partner, Clark Stevens.”
“Hey,” Grier said, nodding, “nice to meet you. I’m a big fan, Clark.”
“You like football?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Grier asked.
“Not everyone,” Jody grumbled. “There are some of us who are more cerebral.”
Clark kissed him quickly on the mouth. “You’re just jealous ’cause it takes me away from you.”
“Duh… it’s rather difficult to compete with a national pastime.”
“Are you feeling deprived, Jo-Jo?” Clark teased lovingly.
“I can honestly say that I’m not deprived in the least bit.”
“I should hope not,” Clark parried, “especially after this morning.”
“Okay, guys,” Lil interjected. “If you’re going to share, let’s hear the salacious details.”
Jody covered Clark’s mouth. “Not another word.”
Grier observed the easy exchange between the famous couple then turned to Lil, who was staring at him blatantly. “Do you like football?”
“Honey, I love football for all the right reasons, and some of the wrong ones.”
“Let me guess.” Grier lifted his hand and ticked off an imaginary list. “One: tight pants. Two: tighter tops. And three: luscious biceps.”
“Stop.” Lil laughed. “I really do like the sport, and the hunks are just a bonus.”
“You enjoy football, or you’re just saying that to appease Clark?” Grier appeared genuinely surprised that Lil was interested in sports.
“He not only likes it, he can rattle off stats like any sportscaster,” Clark boasted, supporting Lil’s statement.
“How unusual.”
“Some of us Nellys do enjoy manly things, you know.”
“Who’s calling you a Nelly?”
“Isn’t that what you’re implying?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“Is that so?”
Grier’s eyes traveled up and down Lil’s body with interest, and the blond returned the bold look with an equally heated gaze. In fact, their chemistry was so powerful, it affected Jody, who was watching the whole scene play out. He stood immediately, hauling Clark off the blanket.
“Where are we going?” Clark’s aquamarine eyes rounded in surprise.
“I have this craving for a funnel cake,” Jody threw out.
“You hate sweets,” Clark argued.
“Not anymore
.” Jody glared and inclined his head in the direction of the seated men who hadn’t taken their eyes off each other.
“Oh, right.”
“We’ll be back in about thirty minutes,” Jody said.
“Take your time,” Lil muttered.
“Thanks for sharing your blanket,” Grier said, smoothing out the area that Clark and Jody had vacated.
“It’s not ours,” Lil replied. “We’re squatting.”
Grier grinned. “Well, thanks for letting me squat with you. Any kind of shade around here is a blessing.”
“Do you own the ice cream you’re peddling?”
“Hell no,” Grier laughed. “I’m helping out a friend.”
“Is he a friend with privileges?” Lil asked.
“No,” Grier smiled. “Jake and I went to school together. We’re practically brothers.”
“Have you volunteered for the entire ten days?”
“As many of them as I can. I do have to earn a living, and he understands that, but fortunately, I’m on call this week, so there’s leeway.”
“What do you do?”
“It’s a shit job.”
“What is it?”
“I move furniture.”
“Is this an interim thing? Are you in college?”
“Let’s not talk about me, okay? How long are you going to be in town?”
“I just got here yesterday, so another six days.”
“What do you do in the real world?”
“I’m an architect.”
Grier whistled. “Well, you’ve come to the right city. Have you ever taken the architectural boat tour?”
“No, what is it?”
“It’s a leisurely boat ride up and down the Chicago River and a great way to see the architectural landmarks. I’m surprised your friends haven’t suggested it.”
“The last time I was here it was snowing; I’m assuming the boat tour wasn’t an option then.”
“You really should go, considering what you do. Why don’t we go tomorrow?”
“We?”
“Sure, if you’d like my company?”
I’d love it. “That would be very nice.”
“Good, that’s settled,” Grier pronounced. “Tell me about Jody. Is he always so serious?”
“He’s a trauma doctor, so yeah, a bit more intense than either Clark or me,” Lil explained, “but he’s a great guy, and he does have a good sense of humor once you get past that solemn exterior.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I thought he didn’t like me.”
“Sweetie,” Lil replied, touching Grier’s arm tentatively. “What’s not to like?”
Grier responded with a thousand-watt smile that melted Lil’s resolve to be cautious and not jump in feet-first. Every single vibe he was getting was positive, and he decided to trust his instincts, which were usually pretty reliable.
“Jody’s the one, isn’t he?”
“The one?”
“You know―the dramatic news broadcast.”
“Yes.”
“That must have been difficult on everyone.”
“You don’t know the half of it, hon.”
“I think it’s romantic as fuck.”
“You and a million other gay men.”
“And not so gay. I have straight friends who idolize Clark for being so forthcoming.”
“Well, it was a struggle, believe me.”
“But so worth it, right?”
“Now I’m the one making a judgment,” Lil said. “I would have never guessed that you’re such a romantic.”
“’Cause I look like an inked-up badass?”
“Let’s not forget the three studs in your left ear. What are they?”
“Onyx.”
“At least you’re a badass with good taste,” Lil joked.
“I happen to have very good taste,” Grier said. “And I think body art is beautiful if it’s done right.”
“Your sleeve is unusual.” Lil reached out and traced the design with a gentle hand. “I love the colors; the blues and reds are so vibrant, and these stars that trail off like this.” Lil’s hand moved past Grier’s arm to rest lightly on Grier’s chest, just where the last of the blue stars disappeared into his wife-beater. “Are there more?” Touching Grier’s body, however innocently, had sparked the desire that had been lying dormant underneath the pretext of friendly conversation. Time stood still as they searched each other’s eyes for some hint of what was happening. Grier held Lil’s hand against his heart, and he felt it thumping wildly.
“There are a few more stars in strategic places,” Grier whispered.
Oh, God. “I’ll keep an open mind about tattoos from now on.”
Grier took a ragged breath and pulled away reluctantly. “Listen, I’ve got to get back.”
“I understand. How do we get together for the boat tour?”
“Meet me at the dock tomorrow at around eleven. You can get all the info on the City of Chicago website. We’ll have lunch afterward.”
“Sounds good.”
“Lil?”
“Yes?”
“You’re not a Nelly,” Grier said, alighting on Lil’s mouth like a hummingbird, dipping in for a sugary kiss. Lil opened to the surprisingly gentle touch and sighed when he felt Grier’s tongue tracing his lips.
“Tomorrow?” Grier confirmed.
Lil was blindsided by the kiss and struggled to find his voice. “Yes.”
Lil watched him walk away, studying Grier’s backside, which was just as amazing as his front. His torso was the classic V-shaped testament to hours of lifting weights, and now that he knew what the kid did on the side, he supposed his physique was due in large part to his job. Grier had never answered the question as to whether or not he was in college, but Lil hoped to learn more about the young man on their outing tomorrow, if he even showed up. The probability was low, considering they hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers, but there was something about Grier that led him to believe he’d be there. Lil hoped he’d have the opportunity to find out if his instincts were correct or not. Although Grier was certainly easy on the eyes, it would be great if he had a little more substance behind that beautiful façade. Lil observed him glance at his watch, and pick up his stride, almost as if he was going to be docked for being late, which was hard to comprehend, given what he’d been told. He was volunteering his time and surely entitled to be a few minutes late.
GRIER WAS not as concerned about being late as he was about being interrogated. He knew his family would be showing up very soon and the last thing he wanted to listen to were negative comments ruining his impulsive, but otherwise perfect hookup. He’d surprised himself by offering to play tour guide tomorrow, but when Lil mentioned his career, it seemed like a logical suggestion. Grier hoped that the excursion would give him an opportunity to learn more about the architect who’d made quite an impression. He wasn’t in the habit of picking up strangers, let alone kissing them in public, but there was chemistry between them that was more powerful than all the warning voices in his head.
By the time he rounded the corner and approached the ice cream booth, the entire cast of players had arrived. His father, Santino, brother, Ali, and best friend, Jake, along with Jake’s dad, Vicente, were handing out the frozen delights as fast as they could scoop them.
“Hey, where have you been?” his dad asked.
“Sorry, I lost track of time.”
Santino nodded, and Grier took his place beside the others and got to work. Each year during the Taste of Chicago, the Dilorios offered their friends the Garcias a helping hand, manning the Vinita Ice Cream booth. It was a grueling schedule—ten days of hard work. But the payoff was always huge, and it had become a tradition between the two families. Santino Dilorio and Vicente “Enteng” Garcia had been neighbors for at least twenty years, almost as long as Grier had been alive. The Garcia twins, Jake and Jillian, went to the same school as the Dilorio brothers, and it was a natural progression from neighbors to good frie
nds.
Children were the common denominator, and both families were dedicated to providing the best for their kids. Life revolved around school activities, and because Nita Garcia worked as a registered nurse while Meredith Dilorio stayed at home, responsibilities for day care had been shared, and the twins had spent many after-school hours over at Ali and Grier’s house waiting for one of their parents to come home. On Nita’s off days, she had watched the kids to give Meredith some time to pursue her own activities without being hampered by two little boys who were only eleven months apart and could have very well been twins themselves.
The Garcias were originally from the Philippines and brought with them many of the values and traditions of their homeland, along with the wonderful recipes they happily shared with their neighbors. The Dilorios soon found themselves craving many of the exotic treats that came out of Enteng Garcia’s kitchen. He was a chef by day and did all the cooking for the family, which Nita accepted gratefully since she was usually exhausted by the time she got home. She barely had enough energy for her children after an eight-hour shift in the ICU at Alexian Brothers Medical Center.
Around the time the kids were in middle school, Enteng decided to open the ice cream parlor, inspired to become self-employed by Santino Dilorio, who owned a small fleet of trucks and was an independent contractor for Mayflower. Years of experimenting with recipes, combining local and imported ingredients, finally paid off: tubs of mango, ube, and coconut ice cream sat alongside the more common vanilla and chocolate, usually served in homemade waffle cones. They named their business Vinita, a blending of the names Vicente and Nita, and because it was located in a strip mall close to the high school, it became a favorite stomping ground for the neighborhood kids and a huge success. When the Dilorio boys and the Garcia twins were old enough to have part-time jobs, it was scooping ice cream at Vinita.
“Where have you been?” Ali asked, as soon as Santino stepped away for a moment.
“Taking a break.”
“With Clark Stevens and his band of queers?”
“What, you’ve got people spying on me now?”
“Sorry, Grier,” Jake apologized. “I happened to mention that you were with Clark.”
“And what if I was, Ali? Who gives a shit?”
“You know damn well that Clark Stevens is an acknowledged homo, and anyone associated with him is automatically labeled.”
Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits Page 133
