The Alcove (Lavender Shores Book 7)

by Rosalind Abel

  “Awesome!” Harrison practically crowed. “Now I won’t be the only Getty man with dirty videos online.”

  “Hey, ours wasn’t dirty.” Adrian glowered at his husband, then grinned. “Okay, actually, it was, in a really, really great way.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “The book club was pretty… spectacular. Now I’m even more glad I wasn’t buzzed or half naked if there’s video proof.” I waggled my eyebrows at Jasper. “At least you didn’t wear anything as sheer as Robert Kelly.”

  The other four men at the table shuddered as one, though it was Connor who spoke. “Sheer?”

  Jasper and I nodded simultaneously.

  “Fuck, that’s worse than when we stumbled on their Fifty Shades shitshow. At least then Robert was only dressed up as Fabio.” He shuddered again. “Although Mom was wearing her bustier, so that wasn’t much better.”

  “Yeah, but at least she didn’t opt for the sheer option.” Micah grimaced at Connor, then beamed at me. “Welcome to town. You’re not a real Lavenderite until you’ve been sexually accosted in one way or another by Robert Kelly and our mom.”

  And then it clicked, why Connor’s words seemed odd before, but surely I misunderstood. “Wait a minute….” I gestured between Micah and Connor. They’d both called Regina Mom. “You two have the same mom?” For a second, I wondered if I’d misunderstood, had assumed they were husbands but they were just really close brothers. Then I remembered that this was a triple date. Not a double date with two brothers tagging along. Not to mention the way Connor’s arm was flung around Micah’s shoulders in a very unbrotherlike manner. Maybe it was just one of those weird things when a spouse calls their in-laws Mom and Dad.

  “Well….” Micah blushed as he started to explain, while Connor began to chuckle. “It’s kind of a long story.”

  Adrian leaned back dramatically, slipping his hands behind his head. “One that I never tire of hearing. There’re few things in life that make me feel so superior.”

  Micah started to retort, but at that moment the teenage waitress arrived with our platters of food. Behind her, an older, beautiful African-American woman followed, giving guidance as the server transferred plates from tray to table.

  “Good, Lisle, check and see if they need anything else before you leave.”

  The girl asked, and we all replied that we were fine.

  “I swear I’m getting too old for this. Or the new generation is getting too young. I can’t tell.” Mabel watched the girl disappear into the kitchen, then leaned against our table with one hand on her hip and gave a long, tired sigh. “It only took me threatening to fire her three times today before she turned off her phone. So progress is progress.”

  I hadn’t had much interaction with the woman in person but felt like I knew her from my hours at the window of Jasper’s bookshop, watching her bring a slice of pie to her wife at the flower shop every afternoon.

  She gave a flurry of quick hugs and brief kisses on tops of heads around the table, including me, as if we were all her children. She paused at Jasper’s side. “Rumor has it the bookstore is opening tomorrow.”

  “Sure is.” Jasper smiled up at her. “Honestly, we could have opened the bookshop the first day; it wasn’t in too bad a shape, but I wanted to get upstairs in order first.”

  “That could’ve been sooner too.” Harrison gave a look that only older brothers possessed, an expression of exasperation, teasing, and affection all rolled into one. “Jasper wanted to do the work himself. Him and Russell.” Pride built in his tone. “His reading nook looks even better than before, and it only took three days.”

  “Really?” Mabel cocked her head in Jasper’s and my direction. “Sapphire and I have been thinking of updating our bathroom for a little while. The handyman we’ve used for years moved on a couple of months ago. If you decide to sell books by day and redo houses at night, let us know.”

  “What?” Adrian smacked both his hands on the tabletop as he leaned toward Mabel. “Willard died? I hadn’t heard that.”

  “Adrian Rivera, you really aren’t your mother’s son, are you?” Mabel reared back slightly, looking at Adrian as if he were crazy. “Of course Willard didn’t die. He’s going to be trolling this earth longer than either you or me, I guarantee it. That old buzzard hooked up with some young twenty-year-old tourist who popped into town a couple of months ago and took off with him. Said it was love at first sight.” She gave an amused but judgmental hum as she shook her head. “It was all over the gossip chain for weeks, though it didn’t really surprise anybody. And your mother offered plenty of opinions at the time. Can’t believe you didn’t hear.”

  Mabel pulled up a chair, telling people to start eating, and the table descended into town gossip.

  It was weird. I decided that was the best word for it. Just weird.

  I guessed, it was normal, really, but that was what was weird.

  Jasper and I were on a date with friends, surrounded by the people of the town, who all knew entirely too much about each other. Just like every other small town across the country. But here, the fact that the entire table was made up of gays didn’t mean a damn thing. Didn’t even require a second glance. As the locals chatted and gossiped, I slowly ate my meatloaf, which was just as Southern and delicious as anything I’d had in Tennessee, and let myself get lost to the pleasant thrum of their conversation while I observed the other diners.

  Just like my time at the window had revealed, everyone appeared normal. There were older couples, both straight and gay, who looked like the type who came to the restaurant the same night each week and probably ordered the special every time. There were families with children, couples on dates, and a few solitary people with books in front of them as they ate.

  And beside me, with his leg pressed to mine, was the man who’d started it all, who confirmed who I really was. The man I’d built up into the epitome of perfection over the years. A man who, though imperfect, surpassed every expectation I had.

  A man I loved. A man who loved me.

  What the hell was I supposed to do with that?

  For just a moment, for one moment an overwhelming panic and my thundering heartbeat drove out all sounds of Mabel’s restaurant from my ears. It was too much to think about, too much to consider, too much to lose, in every way.

  But then like flipping a switch, I pushed it away. That was a fear for another time. One that didn’t need to be addressed yet. Things with Neal could go on for days or weeks. I wasn’t heading anywhere. I simply needed to be in the moment, revel in the unexpected love, sex, and companionship. There was time to figure it out, to let it fall into place on its own.

  I’d allowed myself two beers toward the end of dinner. Both to help me relax into the possibilities of this new existence, and to simply celebrate it. To lose myself in being surrounded by people who might be friends, given enough time, and sitting next to the man I loved. The man, no matter how things went, I knew I would always love.

  Though I wasn’t drunk, I was pleasantly buzzed as Jasper and I walked back, hand in hand down Ocean Way from Mabel’s to the bookshop. Jasper pulled out his keys and let us in the front so we didn’t have to walk around the block to get to the back door. He stepped inside and hurried to disengage the alarm system, I shut the door and caught the eye of an officer driving by in her police cruiser. As I turned the deadbolt, a wave of serenity joined the pleasant buzz. The Lavender Shores police might not be used to the crime and drama found in cities and less affluent places, but they truly cared about and loved Jasper, counted him as one of their own, and that went a long way toward keeping him safe. They weren’t going to slack on their rounds of driving by and checking to make sure things were tranquil.

  I joined Jasper halfway through the bookstore, and we walked the rest of the way toward the back stairs together.

  “I have mixed feelings about opening the bookstore tomorrow.” Jasper stepped into the stairwell as I held the door open for him. “It’ll be good to have norma
lity again, and I know Xander’s ready to come back, but I’m going to miss spending all day with you.”

  I smacked his ass teasingly as I followed him up the steps. “We’re spending all day together the way it is; that’s kind of the gig.”

  “True. But it’s different. There it feels like you’re… I don’t know… doing the job. The past few days of working on the alcove and getting the bedroom back together just felt like….” He shrugged as we reentered the apartment and he turned to face me. “Life, I guess. It was nice.”

  With his last few words, Jasper seemed nervous, as if he was saying too much.

  I took his face into my hands, leaning close to speak before kissing him. “I agree. It was nice. Very.” And it was. Maybe the nicest days of my life. Who knew nice was such a wonderful, wonderful thing?

  The kiss lasted several seconds, and only added to the happy buzzing in my brain.

  “Thanks for tonight. I know it was a lot for you. But it was also—” Jasper chuckled. “—nice I suppose. To be out and about with my brother and friends, like a….” Jasper’s words trailed off as his nerves shot up again.

  So did mine. Though they brought back a little bit of the panic, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “A couple?”

  He nodded and bit his bottom lip.

  “Yeah. It was nice.” That word again. I kissed him and nearly told him I loved him but held back. All of it together was just a touch too much.

  As if understanding, he stepped away and motioned over his shoulder. “I’m gonna hop in the shower. I didn’t get a chance before we went to dinner, and I’d like to be fresh and squeaky clean before we tear apart the newly decorated bedroom.”

  And, man, didn’t that thought drive all the nerves away. “Sign me up for that. I vote we do such a good job of it that it will take us an entire week to put the room back together this go round.”

  “Deal.” He winked and disappeared into his bedroom.

  I considered taking a shower too but was distracted by the alcove on the way to my room. Though we’d said it looked better than ever, it didn’t really. Though there were new curtains and a new cushion, it was exactly the way it had been before. Although it was clear it meant so much more to Jasper than it had, which I wouldn’t have guessed could have been possible. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. He obviously saw it as a symbol of taking back his life.

  Still, though the alcove itself was back to normal, its contents weren’t. The spines of most of the books were now bent and damaged. And thanks to all the tape and the repaired pages, the books sat awkwardly, no longer flush and smooth. But more than anything, was the absence of some of his treasures that had been on the shelves. We’d not thrown any of them away. The pieces were now tucked away in their own individual ziploc bags, most too damaged to be repaired, but Jasper hadn’t been able to throw them away. And though I couldn’t recall what they’d been, the shelves looked so much emptier, sadder.

  I could fix that. Well, not entirely, but I could help him get a start.

  I’d been waiting for the right moment, wondering if that moment was going to be when the drama passed, and I was telling Jasper goodbye.

  I was relieved to discover that this was the moment, that very instant. If I did it then, there wouldn’t be tears associated with the gift. Yeah. It was the right moment. That way, as it sat on his shelf, it would be infused with not only the pleasant, happy, contented buzz of the evening, but the memory of the really, really phenomenal sex that was about to happen.

  Rejecting the shower, I snagged my keys from the kitchen counter and dashed down the steps and into the parking lot. The thought of giving it to him both increased my nerves and filled me with giddy excitement.

  Another police cruiser drove by, pausing at the edge of the lot. I lifted my hand in a wave. A second passed, the officer returned the gesture and drove on. They really were doing a great job.

  I closed the distance and unlocked the passenger side door of the truck, and then dug around in the glove compartment. I’d shoved the small package in there as we’d left the conference. After pulling it out, I held it in my hands and considered unwrapping it, fearing it was too silly for him to display. Wondering if I should look at it to make sure I wanted to give it to him at all.

  I shoved the worry aside. Too much overthinking. I’d been doing way too much of that since arriving in Lavender Shores. I’d bought it for him in a moment of pure happiness and dawning love, because the little figure had practically screamed Jasper’s name from the gift-shop window.

  Slipping it into my pocket, I relocked the truck and headed back toward the apartment, a literal skip in my step.

  When was the last time I’d felt like that?

  Had I ever felt like that?

  At the sound of footsteps behind me, I turned, and with the buzz of happiness and nerves filling my brain, I didn’t feel the precursor warning.

  Didn’t even feel the shock of adrenaline spike through me at the sight of Neal’s face.

  Not until I noticed something swinging toward my head. Not until it was entirely too late. And then, it was just a flash before the world went black.

  Twenty-Three

  Jasper

  Hopeful excitement coursed through me as I showered. I did my best to combat it, though. Ever since arriving back from the book convention, as Russell and I’d worked on the alcove, the change between us was undeniable. Obvious, I supposed, considering that we’d crossed the “I love you” line, but whatever. Things felt… permanent. Or at least on their way to being so.

  The question was always on the tip of my tongue, constantly ready to fall out and fuck everything up. I finished the quick shower and gave myself a stern talking-to in the mirror—no talk of the future, no questions of intention, no plans. I would simply continue to focus on the moment as much as I could, revel in the fact that we loved each other, and bliss out on the fucking phenomenal sex.

  With the towel wrapped around my waist, I stepped into the bedroom, expecting Russell to be lying naked on the bed with candles lit, like he had the past couple of nights, even though the kind of sex we’d had wasn’t really the romantic, candlelight variety. Instead, he was standing at the foot of the bed, completely clothed.

  I halted. “Everything okay? I thought you’d be—”

  With the dim light of the room, combined with the slight blur from leaving my glasses off, I felt the wrongness before my eyes finished communicating to my brain that I was not with Russell. I froze, stupidly, I supposed, but it didn’t make sense.

  “Neal?” Again, admittedly stupidly, I attempted to look around his large silhouette, expecting to see Russell rushing through the doorway. There was no way Neal would be in the bedroom without Russell right behind.

  He didn’t answer. Within three steps, the silhouetted form moved across the bedroom and grabbed my arm. The light from the bathroom at my back flitted over his face. It was his expression, cold and detached, that had me pulling away from him, even more than his grip.

  “Knock it off, Jasper.” He backhanded me before I could get a word out.

  White light exploded behind my eyes, and my breath was stolen. I would’ve stumbled, fallen, from the force if he hadn’t grabbed my arm again, fingers digging in.

  “Get dressed. Get your fucking clothes on.” Though he wasn’t screaming, there was panic in his voice, fear.

  Neal gave me a hard shake and pushed me toward the dresser. Then I did stumble, both from the force, and the spinning my head was continuing to do from the hit. I grabbed the edge of the dresser and managed to stay upright.

  “Never mind. No time. Fucking cops go by every fifteen minutes.” He grabbed my arm again, pulling me to him and then spinning me so he was pushing me across the bedroom toward the door. “Just go. You can use my clothes. Just go.”

  We were in the living room before I accepted it was all really happening. And yet, it made no sense. I darted a glance to the kitchen, but there was no Russell. No pounding of feet,
no cry of rage.

  Then he was shoving me through the door, and we were at the top of the stairs.

  Still no Russell.

  Cold terror washed over me. I attempted to rip myself free but only managed spinning partway around. “Where is he? What did you do?”

  “Shut up, Jasper.” Neal grabbed my other arm as he spun me back around and shoved me toward the stairs. And again, if not for his grip, I would’ve fallen. He practically lifted me, the toes of my feet barely grazing the tops of the stairs as he rushed us down.

  Three steps from the bottom, his foot snagged my towel, ripping it off, causing us both to stumble. We fell as one, stumbling the last steps, and then I crashed against the back door, my head hitting it hard, and then once more as Neal fell into me, his head crashing into mine, forcing my forehead to hit the door again.

  “Fuck.” He screamed, grabbed my arms once more and shook. “You’re going to kill us both, Jasper. Knock it off. I don’t want to hurt you. But knock it the fuck off.”

  My head was ringing, and my body seemed unable to decide if it wanted to be numb with shock or riddled with the pain. Either way, nothing would function. No thought formed, and my body barely moved, guided only by Neal as he flung open the door and shoved me into the parking lot.

  The cool June night air against my naked skin helped me come back to myself somewhat. Not enough to fight, but enough to remember what was happening. It was a repeat from before. I knew how this ended. In Neal’s car, going who knew where.

  He continued to shove me toward a Subaru only a few yards from the back door. We were nearly there when I found Russell’s truck.

  Neal shoved me against the side of the Subaru as he fumbled with the driver’s side door, and my brain finally made sense of what I was seeing.

  A body. Russell’s body. He was partially underneath the front of the truck, his chest and head hidden in the shadows, but his arms and legs were sprawled across the pavement.