“Charles Bailey,” my mother said irritably, “it’s nearly ten o’clock, and you’re still in bed. I didn’t raise you to be this lazy.”
“It’s not lazy, Mama,” I replied. “I stayed up too late writing.”
“Baby boy, I hope you’re not running yourself too ragged,” Grandma Gertie said.
“The only good reason for staying up until wee hours of the morning is for great sex,” Aunt Sandra said. I tried hard not to shiver at the thought of my aunt tearing it up in the sheets. “But I guess writing about it is almost as good.”
My mother tilted her head to the side and thought for a second before she said, “Writing the sex is probably better than the real thing. At least both parties have orgasms in literature.”
“Mom, please stop!” I covered my ears so I wouldn’t have to listen anymore.
“Step aside, young man,” Grandma Gertie said forcefully. “We’ve brought you a coffee cake that’s fresh out of the oven.”
“Okay,” I agreed then stepped back so they could enter. “Why don’t you start a pot of coffee while I go brush my teeth.”
“And your hair,” my mother said. “If I didn’t know better I’d say someone had been running their fingers through it.”
“His lips look a little puffy too,” Aunt Sandra said. “He looks like he’s done more than write about sexy times.”
I declined to comment because I was certain they were exaggerating, but then I got a look at my reflection in the mirror. “Holy shit!” My lips were a darker pink and puffier than normal. I touched them with a finger and discovered they were tender too. I smiled at my reflection then got busy brushing my teeth and grooming the wayward strands of my hair that had been ruffled by eager fingers. I replayed the encounter from the previous night as I got dressed and noticed that my hands shook and my pulse raced at the memory. Damn, if a single kiss could cause me to shake so bad, then what would happen when Kyle pinned me beneath him?
If, I reminded myself. Not when.
I forced all thoughts of Kyle, both innocent and naughty, out of my mind so I could use my energy for the visit from three of my favorite people in my life. I referred to them as the Matrons of Maple Lane. Our lane wasn’t very long and three houses in the cul-de-sac were owned by the three women presently taking up space in my kitchen. My grandmother’s house was in the middle with her daughters’ homes flanking hers on both sides—well, that was until Aunt Sandra’s husband passed away and she moved back in with Grandma, who was also a widow.
I rented the house from Aunt Sandra so we could “keep it in the family” like we were some small-town mafia. I loved the cheap rent she charged, but I hated the lack of privacy. I thought that I’d have a little more when I moved out of my parents’ house, but it seemed like they were at my place more than their own when I was home.
My father, Denver Bailey Hamilton, was a living, breathing saint. I had never in my life witnessed a man with so much patience as my father. He was surrounded and fussed over constantly but never seemed to complain. “What’s to be upset about?” he asked when I mentioned it once. “They like to nurture.” Nurturing is one thing, but I thought my mother, aunt, and grandmother resembled hyperactive hummingbirds hovering around a flower with juicy… ew, never mind. That visual was quickly shifting to something too disgusting to contemplate.
“So, what’s going on today?” I asked when I returned to the kitchen where the Matrons sat around the table.
“We have a book idea for you, dear,” Grandma said. “We want you to write a story about a small-town guy who really likes the town vet but is too afraid to act on it. You see, this small-town guy—let’s name him Chad—thinks that the vet is out of his reach, but everyone around them can see that the vet returns Chad’s interest.”
“Chad, huh?” I asked like I was playing along. “What do you think I should name the town vet?”
“Kurt,” Sandra suggested.
“You don’t say?” I asked.
“It was the first name that popped into my mind,” she said with a casual shrug. My aunt did nothing casually, and she didn’t fool me. In fact, the entire conversation seemed rehearsed.
“Chad and Kurt,” I said as if I was mulling it over. Little did they know that I already based one of my first books on Kyle. Of course, Kyle was book hero material, and pieces of him would probably always appear in my writing projects. “What else should I know about either of the men that would make a story entertaining?”
“Well,” my mother said, “Chad is quite a few years younger than Kurt, so he probably doesn’t remember much about the older man from their childhood. I think it’s possible he’s too caught up in the perfection of Kurt as an adult.” What the hell did that mean?
“Huh,” I said. “You know what would make it interesting? What if Chad was friends with Kurt’s younger sister, Bridget? If that were the case, Chad would’ve been a guest at the Vance’s house.”
“True,” Sandra said, “but by then Kurt had already started coming out of his cocoon.”
“What?” I asked because she had lost me. While it was true that I didn’t remember a lot about Kyle, I did recall a tall, handsome kid who always seemed serious. Of course, he was eighteen to my ten and probably wasn’t very excited about chaperoning Brittney’s birthday pool party. Even then, I knew that Kyle Vaughn was a beautiful specimen.
“What Sandra is trying to say is that Ky-Kurt was a late bloomer in life,” Grandma said. “He was an obese boy until he was fourteen or fifteen. I don’t know what motivated him to change, but he started eating better and got involved in sports. It didn’t happen fast, but he had fully transformed himself into a stud by the time you would remember him.”
Kyle had been an obese kid? It was hard to imagine because he was so fit, I mean perfectly so. He must’ve spent countless hours developing those muscles. “Yeah, I don’t know if Chad remembers that or not.”
“The lonely look in Kurt’s eyes is the same one he had when he was bullied in school or picked last to be on a team in gym. I think people no longer see the obese kid when they look at Kurt but I wonder if that’s all he sees,” Sandra said. I hated the thought of Kyle being picked on and overlooked. I hated it so much my heart squeezed painfully in my chest.
“Oh, were you Kurt’s teacher too?” I asked my aunt.
“Don’t get smart with me or I’ll crack you with a ruler,” she replied.
I released a breath slowly as I dug deep for patience over their meddling in my business. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but…”
“There is no buts about it, young man,” Grandma said forcefully. “I’m not getting any younger, and you’re my only hope for great-grandbabies.” Wow, Nan was bringing out the big guns before I had my first cup of coffee.
“Who are you trying to fool?” I asked her. “You’re going to outlive us all.”
“Be that as it may,” she said seriously, “I want to see you happy, Chaz. You’re finally coming into your own with your writing, and I want to see you happy in your personal life too. I want you to have what Josh has.” I wanted that too, but I knew it wasn’t something you just dialed up and had delivered to your house like a pizza.
“It’ll happen for me when the time is right,” I told them. “Please don’t worry about me.”
“It’s our job to worry,” my mother said. “We can’t just turn it off like a switch.”
“Okay, what if I tell you that I’m working harder at making something happen between Chad and Kurt?” I asked, hoping they’d back off if I threw them a little bone.
The three women smiled brightly at me, and I knew I’d said the right thing. Besides, once the words left my mouth, I realized how right they felt. Wasn’t there a little truth in them? I had taken the initiative and kissed him the night before, and we both liked it a lot before I went tearing out of there like a scared punk.
I could make it right easily enough. Kyle said he would call me and I promised him that I’d answer.
When he did, I’d apologize for running out on him and ask for a do-over. If he agreed, I would have to find a way to tell him that I was Drew.
I shared my coffee cake with the Matrons then decided to revise my project outline to factor in the rogue changes from the previous night. As always, I got lost in the details of my story and lost track of time until two noises caught my attention: the growling of my stomach and the pinging that I had a message on my phone. My appetite disappeared in a flash when I recognized the ping as the one I designated for my gamer messaging app. There was only one person who had ever contacted me through the app. Kyle.
Kyle indicated that he would call me, but instead, he reached out to Drew. Damn, it hurt more than it should after nothing more than a kiss. I told myself to just delete the app without reading his message, but I was a glutton for punishment and opened it.
Hey.
Kyle shared a steamy kiss with me, but Drew was the one on his mind? As sick as the thought made me, it was better that I found out sooner rather than later. Okay, maybe I was overreacting to the one-word message, but I didn’t think so. The last thing I needed was to give my heart to a guy who was pining after someone else, even if that someone else was technically me. Damn, I’d made a huge fucking mess of my life and wasn’t sure how to fix it beyond deleting the gamer messaging app.
Kyle finally got around to calling me a few days later like he said he would, but I didn’t keep my end of the bargain. I closed my eyes and tried to block the image of sadness I imagined in his eyes when I hit the button to decline his call.
The situation with Chaz confounded me. I didn’t understand him. One minute we were kissing and the next he was running away from me. One minute he was telling me he’d answer if I called and the next he ignored me when I did. He didn’t even pretend to miss it; he hit the decline button and sent my ass to voicemail before the second ring. What the hell had I done to him? Or Drew for that matter? The only two men who held my interest since my breakup with Gabe didn’t seem to want anything to do with me. What was it about me that sent men fleeing?
I had a lot of free time on my hands—too much if I’m honest—to reflect on my life. I was happy to be home in Blissville with my family and loved my career. Being a vet was more than a career to me; it was a calling. I knew that I wanted to follow my grandfather’s footsteps since he took me to work with him the first time when I was six. I was grateful every day that I could make a living from my passion for veterinary medicine. It wasn’t enough to make me truly happy because in the still of the night I missed the warm body of a man who belonged only to me. I wanted to be able to reach out and touch his back or spoon in behind him. I craved the feel of my leg bumping into his—whoever he might be.
Family, friends, and love surrounded me, but I had never been so lonely in my life. Drew’s rejection was a little easier to swallow, or at least overlook because he was a faceless man on the other end of a gaming app. I couldn’t avoid Chaz no matter how hard I tried to unless I wanted to move, which I didn’t. I don’t know what prompted me to reach out to Drew the morning after the kiss with Chaz. I didn’t expect him to answer, but I was hoping he would have so that I could have a little bit of closure.
Closure. Ugh! I sounded like a chick. How many times had I heard my sisters use that term while discussing a relationship that ended? Too many to count. But the sentiment rang true. Drew and I developed a type of relationship, and it ended abruptly with no warning. Part of me wanted to know what happened so I could have closure and move on while the other half feared what he had to say. What was it about me that made me so… unloveable? It turned out my closure wasn’t needed because the guy didn’t want anything to do with me.
I decided I wouldn’t make a fool of myself with Chaz the way I did with Drew. I sent Drew messages daily for I don’t know how long. I had given Chaz two chances before I gave up and stopped calling him. How much rejection could one guy take? I’d avoided running into him for a few weeks by not going to Sunday dinners at Josh and Gabe’s, but my reprieve ended when I walked into Curl Up and Dye for my haircut appointment with Josh.
Chaz stared unblinkingly into my eyes for several awkward moments when I arrived. Our connection broke when he took a deep breath and shifted his features into a mask of cool professionalism, but not before I saw the hurt in his eyes. Hurt? What the hell did he have to feel hurt about? I was the one who put myself out there, and he ignored me.
If asked, I would tell you that my greatest personality trait was my patience and my laid-back attitude was a close second. I rarely lost my temper, but I felt my blood simmering beneath the surface that day. My heart pounded in my chest as fury rose inside me. I had half a mind to toss him over my shoulder and carry him off so I could kiss a confession out of him. I hadn’t mistaken the desire in his eyes when he looked at me nor had I imagined the sparks that flew between us when our lips first touched. I just needed to find out why Chaz turned cold on me so suddenly.
“Jazz is running a few minutes behind,” Chaz coolly said, as if he spoke to someone who hadn’t experienced the pleasure of his tongue in their mouth. “Please help yourself to a beverage and a magazine while you wait in the reception area.”
That little imp was dismissing me, and I wasn’t about to… My thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of heavy work boots walking across the polished hardwood floors. It wasn’t a sound I associated with the classy salon, so I turned to see who was wearing them. My mouth dropped open at the sight of the sexy stud approaching Chaz and me, but I don’t think he even noticed I was alive because he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of Chaz. Was this guy the reason Chaz didn’t answer my calls or return my messages?
My eyes raked over the tall, dark stranger with bulging biceps and perfect pecs straining the fabric of his white T-shirt that was three sizes too small. His tool belt hung low over jeans much too tight to wear while constructing anything except wet dreams.
“Hi, Andy,” Chaz said cheerfully. “How’s it going?”
I didn’t care if Andy constructed orphanages in third world countries in his free time; I hated his fucking guts because of the way he looked at Chaz and the way Chaz returned his interest. Andy leaned artfully against the high counter of the reception desk and smiled at Chaz.
“It could’ve been better,” Andy said. “A certain someone could’ve joined me for a drink like I asked.”
Chaz laughed uneasily and darted a glance in my direction to judge my reaction. I thought the soft blush that bloomed across his cheeks was adorable and wished that I was the one who put it there. His eyes widened when they met mine, and he licked his bottom lip nervously. Could he sense how angry I was right then? Was anger even the right emotion? It felt more like… jealousy. I could feel that I wasn’t the only one who had ideas of what Chaz could do with his sexy tongue. I turned to face my new nemesis.
“I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” I said to the newcomer. “I’m Dr. Kyle Vaughn.” Even to my own ears, I sounded a bit pretentious, but I couldn’t take it back once the words left my mouth. I extended my hand to him, which he accepted in a vise-like grip.
“Andy Mason,” he told me. “Carpenter.” I could tell he wasn’t impressed by my title and didn’t like the possessive gleam he saw in my eyes. I narrowed my eyes as the beefcake squeezed my hand harder instead of releasing it.
“Guys,” Chaz said, trying to interrupt the standoff between us. We ignored his attempts and continued to stare one another down like two MMA fighters at the press conference before fight night. “Andy.” The flirty way Chaz said Andy’s name penetrated the carpenter’s brain and he jerked his attention back to Chaz.
“Yeah?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
“What’s the real reason you came downstairs?” Chaz asked, his flirty tone replaced with a professional one. “As flattering as it would be, I’m pretty sure you’re a man on a mission.”
“I’m a multitasker,” Andy boasted. “I can—”
“Andy!” Josh h
appily exclaimed, cutting Andy off as he walked up on the small gathering. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
“I came down to look for you too,” Andy told him.
“Really? It doesn’t look like you’re looking for me,” Josh said as he darted a shrewd glance between the three of us. I knew damn well that Josh would be #TeamDimples. “Kyle, I am so sorry that I’m running a few minutes behind. You can go ahead and…”
“Dr. Vaughn!” a familiar female voice exclaimed. “Oh my goodness! You’re the answer to my prayers.”
I spun around and faced Katie Davis who operated the Carter County Animal Shelter. “That’s what he said,” I replied, jerking my thumb in Chaz’s direction without thinking my actions through. Chaz gasped, Josh threw his head back and laughed in delight, and I’m pretty sure that Andy growled. I chanced a peek at Chaz and caught him staring at me with a dumbfounded expression on his face. How much more obvious did I need to be that I wanted to see where things could go between us?
“Is this a bad time?” she asked nervously. “I’d like to ask a favor of you.” My staff and I volunteered ten to fifteen hours a week treating the dogs and cats at her shelter. The last time I was there, she mentioned that she needed to raise money for the shelter. I figured that she wanted to discuss a fundraiser with me.
“Not at all, Katie. Josh will be delayed a few minutes, so I have time now.”
“Well, it’s a big favor,” she said hesitantly. “Remember how I mentioned a fundraiser to you?”
“Sure, and I’ll help out however I can,” I told her.
“I’m so glad you feel that way because you play a big part in what I have in mind.” She clapped her hands and bounced on her feet. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner,” she said to herself.
“How big?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as an uneasy feeling came over me.
That feeling only increased when she broke eye contact and looked down at her feet. “We’d like to do a calendar with the animals at the shelter. One of my staff is an amateur photographer and is willing to donate the time to take and edit the photos.”
Unscripted Love (Road to Blissville, #1) Page 4
