The Alcove (Lavender Shores Book 7)

by Rosalind Abel

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” The man really was captivating to look at if he’d managed to block the screaming alarm from my ears. Hating to turn away from his touch, I twisted, leaned over, and turned off my cell phone’s alarm.

  “I can’t stand that Neal is getting to you.”

  Turning back, I switched to a partially lying position, propping myself up on my elbow as I pulled the sheets higher around us, though not too high. No reason to cut off my vision of his perfect torso. “I can’t stand that you saw me react like that. It’s a little humiliating.”

  And then his hand was on my cheek once more, the back of his fingers stroking tenderly. I’d never get tired of that touch. “That wasn’t a criticism. I think something would be wrong with you if it weren’t getting to you. I’d be worried you weren’t taking him seriously.”

  “I am. I know that he—” I shook my head, realizing what we were talking about. I was in bed with Russell, the morning after the most romantic sex of my life, and he was touching me in complete adoration, which was mind-blowing in and of itself. Neal didn’t belong there. “Can we forget him for a moment?”

  “You bet.” His smile returned, playful this time. “Did you have another topic in mind?”

  I sure did. Rolling slightly, I grazed my body against his as I leaned down and kissed him.

  It couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not with the tenderness, the sweetness. Without the running away or panic.

  I shoved that line of thought away from me as well, it didn’t belong there either.

  Instead, I deepened the kiss and let myself get lost in the moment.

  His hand began to travel up and down my back as I slid mine between our bodies, found his waiting hardness, and began to stroke. I’d never get tired of feeling that either. Russell sucked in a breath at the contact, breaking our kiss. Some of the gentleness evaporated as his hand tightened on the back of my neck while he arched into my palm with a grunt.

  “Fuck.” I fell captive to the sight of him. Russell’s body was completely mesmerizing as he continued to thrust into my hand, the muscles of his arms and chest and stomach rippling with every undulation. Every centimeter of him utterly male, primal. “I could wake up like this every morning.”

  Russell’s rhythm ceased instantly, his body freezing with his hips partially thrust in the air.

  He pulled from me and slowly sank back into the mattress.

  The shift was so sudden that it took me several seconds to realize both that I’d spoken out loud and how it sounded. I looked up to find his gaze on me, worry evident. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to come out that way.” Or at all.

  “Jasper.” He took a deep breath, and there was a sad, tentative quality to his tone. “I—”

  “Don’t.” I knew exactly where he was headed, and I didn’t blame him. “I really didn’t mean that how it sounded. I don’t have any delusions after last night. I don’t think we just fell into a relationship. I’m not picturing forever. I don’t think we woke up in a relationship. I’m not drawing hearts around your name on the inside of book covers.” That last part was only true because I would never draw in a book. I was most definitely drawing hearts around his name in my mind, however. He didn’t need to know that.

  “I’m sorry. It’s not—”

  “You don’t need to be sorry.” I cut him off again and hated that I sounded a little desperate. Maybe more than a little.

  Russell chuckled and smiled again. “Do you mind if I finish a thought?”

  A smile, that was good, maybe. “Of course. Sorry.”

  He took his time in speaking, as if he was judging the veracity of what he was about to say. Finally, with a slight nod, he spoke. “I’m not going to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you. It would be asinine at this point. You are unlike any man I’ve ever met. Unlike any man I thought I ever would meet. Last night, the way I felt, the way we felt together, that wasn’t simply being caught up in the moment.” I hadn’t realized I’d looked away, but Russell paused until I met his gaze once more. “It wasn’t, Jasper. It was real. I don’t know exactly what it was, but it was real.”

  I hadn’t expected any of that. It both filled up my heart, and for some reason, brought along the tingle of dread. “For me, too.”

  “I know.” Another smile, this one a little sad. Russell shoved the sheets from him and sat up, crisscrossing his legs once more. The sight was as adorable as it was previously, but as he was naked, took it to an entirely different level of things that were most definitely not covered by adorable. “Sit up with me, please. I don’t think I can have a serious talk lying down.

  Serious talk? Nope. This wasn’t going to end well. Even so, I sat up, mirroring his pose.

  His gaze traveled over my body, and he tilted his head in a way that I was certain some voice in his mind just groaned fuuuuuck—and that was all kinds of wonderful. Then he was somber once more. “As I was trying to say, all that was real. All of it is real, even now. I’m feeling all kinds of… things for you.” He reached out and put his hand over mine, which I’d folded in my lap. “The problem is, I can’t promise anything. Maybe it sounds crazy to you, but I’ve never pictured a relationship with a man. Ever.”

  I cocked my head, thrown. “What? Maybe I misunderstood, but I thought you’d been dating men since….” Since me sounded a little odd. “Since you came out.”

  “Dating isn’t quite the right word.” He chuckled and gave a self-deprecating grin. “I’ve been sleeping with lots of men since I came out. Never dating. Kind of like we were talking about with that Lavender Love book. The idea of an actual gay relationship, despite them talking about it on the news and in movies and shit….” He shrugged. “I never believed in them, I guess. Didn’t think they really happened.”

  I nearly told him to just look around. That Lavender Shores was full of gay relationships. How could he not believe in what he saw with his own eyes? Then I realized that was exactly why he’d been so captivated by the Lavender Love book. And it made sense combined with what he’d told me about his life the night before. So I simply nodded.

  His eyes narrowed. “I thought you’d argue with me on that one.”

  Maybe we’d only known each other for a few days, but Russell demonstrated over and over again how he seemed to truly understand me. “I almost did. But then it made sense.”

  “See… you are really something.” He smiled as he shook his head. “So much something that I wish I did believe in them, in those gay relationships.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “Pretty sure they’re just called relationships.”

  To my surprise, that seemed to throw him off. His brows knitted, and after a couple of seconds he nodded. “Yeah, maybe so.”

  “Russell….” I paused, considering if I really wanted to say what I was thinking, worried it would possibly cause him to react or run even quicker. But I didn’t want to be passive anymore, and I didn’t want to play games. “I do believe in relationships. I had one. A long one. A really horrible, horrible one, but that doesn’t change what it was. And while there’s been times I’ve wanted a relationship again, I haven’t given it too much thought, or at least haven’t given too much credence that it would actually happen for me. Most people don’t get it all. And I have more than most. I really love my life here. I really, really do. And I don’t have to have a relationship to make it wonderful. It already is.”

  His smile relaxed. “I can see that. Easily.”

  “Good.” I leaned closer and stared him hard in the eyes. “And I know with the age difference, that you might see me as a kid who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He started to protest, but I shook my head and kept going. “All I’ll say on that is, if those kind of thoughts come, shove them away, because they’re a bunch of crap and I deserve better.”

  Russell laughed softly. “I can do that.”

  “And as far as the things we’re feeling, I don’t know exactly what they are either. But I’
m glad you didn’t pretend, because I think it’s pretty obvious that we both know we have feelings for each other. But I’m not picking out wedding rings in my mind. I’m not pretending that our story is some Nora Roberts romance novel. We only know what we are right now. Two men who have feelings for each other. Two men who clearly want to have a lot of sex with each other, and who are pretty fucking good at it, in my opinion.” I chuckled as he nodded enthusiastically, but didn’t stop. “And that’s enough. All I know is what’s true right now. So while we’re in the now, can we just go with it? We don’t need to pretend to be boyfriends. We don’t need to label it as anything it isn’t. Can we just be two men who are attracted to each other, who obviously care about each other, and simply enjoy being together while life allows it?”

  He studied me, and I thought he almost said yes, but then he looked skeptical. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

  “No, don’t do that.” I shook my head but continued to stare hard at him. “That’s what I’m talking about. I’m not a kid, and I’m not the type to play games. What I say, I mean. And on the off chance I’m wrong about myself, then that’s on me.”

  “Wow.” His words were barely a breath. “You really are something.”

  Maybe that was true. “I’ve already said that I’m okay with it. So the question is, are you?”

  “Oh hell yeah.” He didn’t even hesitate. “Hell. Yeah.”

  I felt like laughing but held it back. And then decided this was way too good to pull any of that shit, so let myself laugh. “And how do you feel about opening the store a little late this morning and me riding your cock for the next half hour or so?”

  Grinning, he did a surprisingly graceful move for a man of his size, and somehow thrust himself from sitting crisscrossed on the bed to lying on his back with his arms behind his head. “I’d say giddyup, cowboy.”

  If I’d thought things felt right, more complete, in Russell’s presence when they were awkward and he stood like a tin soldier by the window, the sensation was nothing compared to what it was like as he helped Xander and me box up books to take down to the conference the next day. It was so damn easy. It didn’t matter whether the three of us worked in silence, if there were little jokes traded here and there, if Russell paused to go scan the streets, or if we just caught each other’s eyes over the shelves and smiled. So damn easy.

  Despite all the work, the day practically flew. Though, time did that weird frustratingly magical thing that time did and also dragged by. Knowing we’d end up in my bed later that evening, part of me wanted to just send Xander home, throw up the Closed sign and get an early start on going to bed.

  All that came to a crashing halt when Xander looked up from going through the mail delivery and said my name in a tone that only meant one thing.

  Russell and I both straightened from where we’d been arranging the last box.

  Xander held up a postcard from where he stood behind the counter. “It’s from Neal.”

  Proving that I’d been in an abusive relationship for far too long, I was only halfway toward the postcard when the initial shock of Neal intruding on our perfect day passed, and I was nothing more than relieved. Just a postcard—so what?

  “Thanks, buddy.” To my own surprise, my voice was steady as I took the card from Xander. The image on the front was the Inverness shipwreck. Some fishing boat had wrecked forever ago and was now a popular tourist attraction several miles north. I nearly laughed. Shipwreck. Talk about Freudian.

  I turned it over and read Neal’s jagged script.

  Jasper,

  I’m so sorry about the other night. I feel horrible. I got carried away. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I’ve missed you so much. And then to see you with that other guy pushed me over the edge. Like you said. I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you again. I love you.

  See you soon,

  Neal

  I didn’t have a single feeling go through me as I read his words. Not one. Why would I? It was the same old thing. An outburst. An apology. The promise to never do it again. Followed by the inevitable declaration of love. Same story, different day.

  No, that wasn’t true. I did feel something. Exhaustion. Even though I’d known in the back of my mind the entire time that Neal and I weren’t actually done, the thoughts of this dragging on indefinitely made me feel suddenly ancient and worn-out.

  I handed the postcard to Russell, who gave it a quick once-over and seemed about as impressed as I was. “Well, at least we haven’t moved on to the direct threats. That may give us a little more time. Give the cops a little more time to track him down before things get worse.”

  I appreciated that Russell didn’t pretend like it was anything other than what it was. That we both knew where this was ultimately heading. Even if the same could be said about what was happening between the two of us.

  Russell licked his lips and then looked toward Xander, though he spoke to me. “Still, he may up things, and we don’t know when. We also don’t know if he’ll realize that you and I are leaving town tomorrow.”

  All very true, and more confirmation that keeping the store closed while we were gone was the only decision I could make. There was no way in hell I’d take a chance with Xander’s safety.

  By the time dinner passed, Neal was barely more than an afterthought. And as I curled up into my nightly spot in the alcove, Russell hesitated for a split second before taking a closer seat on the couch, and gave his thoughts away.

  I jumped at the chance, maybe a little too quickly. “You can join me, if you want. It’ll be crowded, but if we can make out in this, we can certainly read.”

  To my surprise, he didn’t pretend that wasn’t what he’d been thinking. “I don’t want to intrude on your space.”

  “Maybe I want you to.”

  Grinning, he stood again and carried his books as he joined me at the alcove. “So how in the world do we do this?”

  I scooched closer against the bookshelves on my side and readjusted the cushion at my back before pointing to the opposite spot. “Why don’t we try you sitting there, and then our legs can kinda… tangle or whatever in the middle.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Russell was less graceful than he had been the night before, though he hadn’t tried to squeeze his legs into the small space then either. Finally we sat at either end, our legs folded over each other between us. He grinned at me. “I wish I’d had the foresight and suggested us taking off our pants before we did this. However I’m a little afraid to get up at the moment. I’m not sure if we can reclaim this position again.”

  “I like the way you think.” Though there would be absolutely no reading if that’s how we did it, not that I gave a shit.

  He propped the books on his lap as he grabbed another pillow, leaned forward, and stuffed it behind his back. “If I get a leg cramp, I’m pretty sure we’re both going to die.”

  At that mental picture, I laughed again, and was willing to bet he was right. Or at least have to drag ourselves away with two pairs of broken legs. “I have good insurance.”

  “Me too. Let’s risk it, then.” He shuffled in an adorable manner, sinking into his spot, then picked up his book.

  I pointed at the copy of Chocolate Cake and Chaos in his lap. “You must really like them if you’re almost ready for the fourth one.”

  “I do.” He blushed at the admission. “I shouldn’t enjoy them since I actually know how law enforcement and investigations work and it’s ridiculous that a baker would be able to solve all these murders quicker than the police. Not to mention that if the series keeps going, there’s not going to be anyone left alive in this little town. But… you were right. When I’m in there reading about Julia, I actually escape the rest of my life.” His blush darkened. “Although I’m really liking my life at the moment.”

  My heart had wings and they beat rapidly inside my chest. “Well, look at you. I didn’t know you could be so cheesy.”

  He shrugged. “That makes two of
us.”

  I thought, before Russell Wallace stepped into my bookshop, that I too had really liked my life. And I had. But sitting there in the alcove, crowded in to a ridiculous level while Russell read cozy mysteries and I reread Prisoner of Azkaban, the thought of not having this in my life for every day following meant that I might never enjoy my life again.

  I shoved that overly dramatic thought from me, even though it felt true. Whether it was or not, it didn’t matter. We were living in the moment, and I didn’t want to miss it. And this moment was beyond anything I’d ever imagined. And the moments that followed, whenever we managed to untangle ourselves and go to bed, would just be as unfathomably wonderful.

  Sixteen

  Russell

  For a quiet, bookish man, Jasper wasn’t really all that shy. Considering we’d both been naked at a bathhouse when we’d met, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised how he could work a room. He definitely had at the book club. But by the end of it he’d been three sheets to the wind. But there he was again, sans alcohol, in the middle of thousands of people attending the California Romance Convention and seemed as at ease as a politician kissing babies, and a whole lot more charming. Most of the attendees of the romance convention were women, and every one of them seemed captivated by Jasper. Not that I could blame them.

  As planned, we’d set up the Lavender Pages booth next to Lamont’s author station in the large conference room. Both of them assuring me that the one-night event was a small-scale taste of what most book conventions were like. Granted, the whole reading thing was a little new to me, but I had no idea there were that many writers in the world—the large room was completely filled with authors and publishers. Felt like a person could walk row after row after row and never end, with someone constantly trying to get them to read their book.