Jace turned on the sand-covered road and drove the quarter of a mile down to his property. The street was exactly as he remembered it. So was the house. Not necessarily in a good way. Jace parked the car right out front and looked the property over through the windshield of his Prius. He slowly got out of the car, his eyes still glued to the house, and he stood there, flabbergasted.
The vacation home of his dreams, the place he thought was the most majestic, perfect place on the planet was a run down, uncared for piece of crap. Great! He should have negotiated a better deal.
Chapter 18
Sober turned out to be such a different way to live life. Colt looked himself over in the floor length mirror of his overpriced spacious bathroom. Funny how every time he thought about this stupid condo, all he could think was how ridiculously expensive it had been. But the supermodel insisted he buy this place and threw a god-awful fit in front of the agent until he had no choice but to agree. She only ever got so far before she would toss the ever-present gay boy into the fight. Perhaps today the buyer’s remorse was a little worse, because after all, this was his wedding day.
Maryia selected a traditional style Armani black tuxedo for him to wear, since he’d refused any involvement in the plans for the day. As he stood in front of the mirror, he had to give her credit; she did know something about fashion and had chosen the perfect tux for him. Colt’s blue eyes popped against the stark black and white of what he wore. The puffy circles under his eyes, the ones he’d worn for much of the last ten years were now gone. His skin looked healthy, clean, and tanned. He turned in the mirror, looking at himself closely. Surprisingly, Colt thought he looked pretty good today, all things considered.
Maryia chose to sleep away from the condo last night. Claiming she wanted everything just right, including the tradition of not seeing the groom on the wedding day. She claimed something about turning over a new leaf in their relationship. Colt noticed his driver conspicuously absent until just about an hour ago. Colt didn’t care about their late night hook-ups. Actually, more like their secret late night, mid-morning, and after lunch hook-ups. He’d only ever told the driver to stop in order to piss Maryia off.
Once he realized their frequency, Colt paid special attention to the situation. He could tell his driver resented him being in the picture. Hell, he resented himself for being involved with the whole thing. So Colt had a one-on-one with Clint. Explaining they needed to be discreet and stay out of the line of cameras that always followed her around. He even point blank offered to pay Clint to marry her. They were clearly completely taken with each other, but the money grubbing bitch wanted Colt’s fame to boost her career. She refused to follow her heart’s desire and allow him in return to follow his. Goddamn, how he hated her!
SportsCenter played in the background from the television in the bedroom. Colt still had an hour or so before he needed to be at the wedding hall. He took his time, dressed slowly, and sat on the arm of the loveseat, listening again to the interview he’d given just a few days ago. Pictures of Maryia and Colt were on the screen. Funny how they were such a train wreck of a couple, yet considered an international superstar pairing. Colt couldn’t see the appeal at all while looking at the two of them on screen. Not one of the dozen or so photos shown had either one of them touching the other, unless of course Maryia was drunk and he was forced to care for her or keep her standing.
It also never ceased to fascinate how no one ever seemed to notice Maryia couldn’t keep her eyes open. They called her look sultry, exotic, and foreign. She was considered a rare beauty across the world, but Colt knew the truth. Maryia spent much of the time stoned out of her mind.
The SportsCenter interview wound to an end with the reporter finally talking about his career. After all, ESPN prided itself on their sports coverage, not the entertainment report this interview had turned out to be. The reporter bullet pointed the highlights of his football career. Ran quickly over the three Super Bowl rings he’d earned. The six years he was asked to play in the Pro Bowl. Colt’s number one quarterback ranking and this year’s MVP of the big game, all awarded to him by the NFL.
None of that mattered to the world or this interviewer—they only cared about the hype of his marriage to the blackmailing little slut. Maryia sat beside him in the interview. Colt slowed the program down to catch the little yawn she gave as they talked about his life, not hers. He laughed every single time he watched the program. She claimed to be exhausted from jet lag, but you had to have been on a jet, flying, in order to get jet lag.
Colt’s alarm buzzed, reminding him of the time. At the same instant, the replay of the cheerleading competition began. Jace, hugging his last performing team, flashed across the screen. The image of him in that moment struck Colt hard and tears came to his eyes. In his heart of hearts, Colt wished this day was being spent with Jace, where he prepared to marry his Jace and no one else.
He closed his eyes and thought about how good he would feel standing proudly at the altar, Jace dressed in his tuxedo, offering his hand to accept Colt’s ring. He let himself dwell on that image for several minutes before his heart started the slow steady pound, remembering the longing he thought he saw in Jace’s expression while he looked down at their picture. This day was wrong. Marrying Maryia was all wrong.
He’d played the interview enough to know Jace planned to be in Hawaii this week. Goose bumps sprang up on his arms, his chest tightened. He took a deep breath to steady his pounding heart. If he allowed himself another second to think his decision through, he might change his mind, so Colt flew solely on emotion. He rushed to his closet and threw open the door. Colt jerked his duffel bag off the top shelf and tossed a couple of pairs of shorts, T-shirts, flip flops, and a few of his toiletries inside. He pulled a random ball cap down off a shelf, grabbed the duffel and shut the closet door behind him.
Colt decided to throw all caution to the wind and follow his heart this time, something he’d never had the courage to do before. He’d always told himself he protected Jace when he allowed his father to control so much of his life. Marrying Maryia was essentially the same, only trading one controlling leech for another. He refused another minute of giving that bitch control of his life. If he didn’t take this opportunity now and go after the man he’d always loved, he might never have another chance. His stomach knotted with excitement as he strode across the room to grab his wallet, sunglasses, and cell phone from his dresser. Colt didn’t leave a note. He needed time to get out of town.
Never looking back, he took the elevator down, acknowledging all the well wishes along the way. His driver stood ready by his Bentley, pulling the car door open as he walked out. Bypassing the opened back door, Colt rounded the hood, walking to the driver’s side.
“Shut the door, buddy. I’ll drive myself to the church. Catch you later, man. Wish me luck!” The driver looked confused as Colt got inside the car and pulled away from the curb, leaving him standing there alone. Colt told the lie easily, hoping Clint didn’t wait there too long. Colt needed time to get out of the city. He drove straight to the airport, leaving his car running while parked in fifteen minute parking. He removed the tie and jacket, tossing them in the backseat of the car, and placed the ball cap on along with the sunglasses. He booked the first flight taking him in the general direction of Hawaii. He had fifteen minutes to board. Perfect!
Forty-five minutes after leaving his apartment, Colt sat in coach with the airplane charging down the runway, heading to Los Angeles. With his iPhone, he booked the connecting flight to arrive in Hawaii before morning. Colt refused to allow himself the luxury of thinking this through; too afraid he would chicken out if he had second thoughts.
Once the plane got in the air, he did a quick change. He kept his head down and his eyes averted, but when recognized, he used his natural deep southern accent to throw people off. Colt wanted one person and one person only. There would be no more waiting. Regardless of how Jace might respond—and that thought did give him a moment of in
tense anxiety—he planned to see this through. If Jace didn’t want to have anything to do with him, at least he’d tried. Then Colt would know for sure and he could apologize for the pain he’d caused years ago.
Chapter 19
The end of the lounger sat perched along the beach where the water came forward, meeting the sand in a frothy swirl. The waves kept the water coming and going, back and forth. Jace loved the feel of the wet sand and water between his toes. A cooler sat to the right of his chair, anchored deep into the sand and filled with alcohol, all cold and ready for him to drink. The trash bucket collecting the empty bottles sat to his left. Jace lay in the low reclining chair, staring out into the retreating sun, sizzling its way back into the ocean. The evening was beautiful. The balmy breeze slid across his skin like a soothing caress. Jace sat there in what had become his regular wardrobe for the island: loud, colorful swim trunks and nothing more.
As the sun dropped over the horizon, day five of his fourteen day vacation came to an end. Jace was now one hundred percent certain buying this house sight unseen hadn’t been the best idea. The inside turned out to need more repair than the outside. Clearly, no one bothered with maintenance on this place in all the years since he’d last been here.
Jace spent the first few days securing the flooring back in place, both inside and out. He would never consider himself a handyman, but those first few years of getting his gym up and running required he do a lot of repair work himself. Apparently he’d learned reasonably well. The last two days he built a larger deck around the front and back of his new home. He hoped he made the steps not quite so treacherous getting inside the elevated beach house.
Sleep still wasn’t coming easily. Jace hadn’t hooked up any of the televisions or internet devices and kept his phone internet turned off most of the time. It stayed quiet in the house, Jace only turning on an old AM/FM radio when he felt like he needed company. The island had lots of oldies stations which were absolutely the best to listen and sing along to. The memories still lingered. When he first walked through the front door, they’d rushed back and struck him hard, reminding him of his and Colt’s time here. Memories so vivid they caused him to reconsider even being here. The old stove top, refrigerator, and table were still in the kitchen, the same sofa still in the living room. Each one of those held a strong memory of something the two of them shared together. He and Colt had made love in every room in this house.
Jace warred with himself, and he’d almost bolted, but resolve finally pushed to the forefront. He would make new memories here—it was always the plan. He would force himself to look back on the old ones with nothing more than the nostalgia of good times shared. Jace reasoned with himself, long and hard, for the rest of that entire first day. All these feelings were only because the man he once loved was marrying another, when he couldn’t even find anyone interesting to date. He had managed to bury these feelings once, and he would do it again.
Jace spent much of the first day making a list of needed repairs and then gathering supplies in town. Everything went faster than anticipated. Tomorrow, he would begin the roof repairs and then the paint job. He bought buckets and buckets of paint for the inside and out. The plumbers and electricians would be here in the next couple of days. By the time he left, he hoped the house would be complete for his future visits. And he planned many future visits.
For tonight though, Jace took time off. He’d driven into town a couple of hours ago to purchase more alcohol than he’d drank in the last five years, including half a case of Longboard Island Lagers and a bottle of Malibu coconut rum. He picked up two veggie sushi rolls, an order of pineapple fried rice, and a bottle of white willow bark for the morning. The sushi rolls were long since gone, and he’d made a solid dent in the alcohol. A glance toward the trash bucket and he counted eight empty bottles of Longboards, with one open in his hand right now. Jace felt pretty good, assessing his current state somewhere between pretty buzzed but not quite solidly drunk yet.
Looking out into the sunset, he watched the light of the sun dip below the horizon. The sunset turned the sky from deep orange and pink to a dark purple. Full on night would be here soon. He wondered what Colt might look like in his wedding tuxedo. With all his dark good looks, a black on black tuxedo would probably look the best. Colt’s sapphire eyes would stand out against the black and sparkle like crown jewels. At least that’s what he would want Colt to wear if they were getting married. The contrast of Colt’s deep, dark tan, jet black hair, and black tuxedo would make him by far the best looking man in the room. Colt probably wouldn’t have gotten more than five feet down the aisle before Jace tackled him to the ground, having his way with him right there.
Honestly, Colt could wear anything and he’d look good. A smile slid across Jace’s lips thinking about how hot Colt always used to look. He made football interesting to watch. Pain sliced through his heart at those thoughts. Running a hand over his face, he reclined against the chair, forcing his thoughts back on the house and the paint color scheme he’d chosen. He could have no room for thoughts of a married man in his mind. A sting skidded across his heart again in a fast sweeping motion just like before. Paint colors and cheerleading routines were all he would allow inside his mind for the rest of the night. Hopefully with any luck, he could pull this off for the rest of his life.
A flight delay, then problems with the rental car, made Colt’s trip longer than expected. He followed the headline news on his phone and listened to the radio news stories closely, but surprisingly no one called. As best he could tell, the authorities weren’t involved and out looking for him. Those were good, yet surprising, signs.
Colt used his driver’s license and credit cards to buy the airline tickets and rent this car. If the authorities were involved, they would see all his activities; he hadn’t hidden anything. Maryia’s publicist had put out a statement of false starts, and the couple sneaking off for a private affair, asking for privacy, but nothing more. That did make Colt laugh. No way would Maryia do anything without the cameras trained on her. The wedding alone would have been a financial gain of almost three million dollars, all going directly to her.
What Colt couldn’t figure out… why hadn’t his father or Johnny called?
Deciding he’d dodged the first wave of the storm, and for some reason the second wave wasn’t hitting him quite yet, Colt concentrated on driving the stretch of road from the airport to Jace. It must be somewhere around two in the morning. Exhausted from the time change and the travel, he pressed on, refusing to wait another minute.
Colt pulled in the long drive of Jace’s bungalow, parking next to a Prius and killed the engine. He sat staring at the house. Jace was there. His only reason for living was just inside the quaint little cottage. Would Jace reject him after all this time? Turn him away?
“God, I hope not.” Colt sighed. With apprehension, he forced himself out of the car. Anxiety filled his soul, his palms were sweaty and his heart began to race. Funny, he hadn’t been really scared or nervous until he got within a few feet of his past.
A broken down sidewalk began from the gravel driveway. He wound his way to the porch steps leading to the front door. For the first time since leaving New York, he realized Jace might be here with another man. Why hadn’t that occurred to him before? Shit!
The thought stopped Colt in his tracks. Jace didn’t wear a ring, but had Colt banked everything on the absence of that ring? Texas wasn’t a gay marriage state. Jace may not have the ring but might be in a committed relationship.
The pain and fear of that thought almost sent Colt to his knees. Then envy filled his soul. Jace was his, no one else’s. Jace always belonged to him from the first moment he’d laid eyes on him. Colt had claimed Jace then and never truly let him go! Those primal thoughts came to an abrupt end just as they started. Regardless of what might be going on inside this house, Colt would apologize. He would be honest, tell Jace everything, and if he left without Jace, at least he’d tried. Colt would set the rec
ord straight. Tonight, he would have his answer, one way or another.
Reaching forward, Colt gently knocked on the front door. Waiting a minute, he used more force, this time banging with his fist. After a few minutes more, he gripped the metal knocker, rapping urgently against the weather-stained door. When nothing came from the house, he pressed his ear to the door. He heard nothing inside.
Stepping back, he went to a window and peered inside. There he could see a light on, somewhere toward the rear of the bungalow. Colt walked the length of the wraparound porch, following it to the back. The porch was new so apparently Jace had been busy.
He looked out over the water. The ocean looked calm and quiet. The clouds covered the moon, casting a silver glow, but not providing much in the way of light. Scanning the beach, he found the embers of a dying fire and made out the shape of a chair close by. Colt took the back porch steps down to the sand. The farther he walked from the light of the house, the more his eyes adjusted to the dark. He could make out the form of a man lying on an outstretched lounger, close to the surf. Colt’s heart lurched, realizing Jace slept there alone. For all his claims of not being primal, Colt would have been hard-pressed to keep his calm and not attack if there had been someone with his Jace right now.
Colt slowed his pace as he walked tentatively to the chair. He took in the cooler on one side and the trash on the other. The smell of alcohol hit him hard, and for the first time in his adult life, he wasn’t drawn to taking a drink. Instead, he reached the chair, looked closer into the trash, lowering a finger inside to quietly lift a couple of bottles to count what Jace might have consumed. Colt counted twelve bottles. That wasn’t too much for one person. Hell, he could drink a thirty pack in one sitting, but he looked up at the house. Still no movement from inside.
Nice Guys Collection With Added Bonus Material Page 14
