by DJ Jamison
“I want to say something,” he said.
I sat down, giving him the position of power. If he wanted to boot me out, I couldn’t stop him. Plus, my feet were tired. It’d been a struggle getting Miguel up the steps to the apartment.
“What is it?”
His gaze darted around the room before settling on me. “Sorry.”
“You’re … what?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I was a shit tonight. I was taken by surprise. I don’t handle surprises well.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry too. It was all a bit of a surprise to me too. I tried not to end up here again, but …”
Jeremy fiddled with a hole in his T-shirt, tugging at the edges and causing it to tear further. Giving me glimpses of furry belly I didn’t need to see.
“I get that, Camden. It’s not that I don’t like you.”
“Look, I know you’re uneasy about my friendship with Miguel,” I said. His gaze returned to my face. “We grew up together. We’re best friends, and that’s all.”
“Friends fall in love all the time,” Jeremy said quietly. “That doesn’t reassure me.”
“He’s like a brother, Jeremy. I’ve never felt that way about him. Like, not even in high school when he was the only gay guy I knew. Don’t you think if we were going to hook up, we would have done it a long time ago?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe.”
“Definitely. But neither of us feel that way.”
Jeremy sighed and dropped down on the sofa next to me. He put his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s my own insecurities talking. I know that.”
This was the most honest conversation I’d ever had with Jeremy. Also the longest. I nudged him.
“So maybe you and I can be friends, huh?”
He glanced at me, and there was something disconcerting about the look in his eyes. He licked his lips, and he looked like he was either about to confess a deep, dark secret or kiss me, and I didn’t like either option.
Then the sound of retching came from down the hall, and Jeremy jumped up.
Saved by the drunk friend.
“Duty calls,” he said as he walked quickly away. He looked almost as relieved as I felt to be interrupted. I wasn’t sure what that moment was about, and I didn’t want to know. Maybe Jeremy and I weren’t cut out to be friends. That was okay, as long as he accepted that Miguel and I were.
Chapter 6
Reid
At 12:30 p.m. Monday, I studied the menu board above the counter at the front of The Sandwich Artist while doing my best to ignore Lee’s movements behind the counter. I’d dropped him off for his first day of work at 10 a.m. that morning, and despite the urge to keep a sharp eye on him, I’d run a few errands before returning for my business lunch.
The little bistro offered eclectic deli choices: roast beef with bell peppers and cream cheese on rye; roasted eggplant with marinara sauce on asiago bread; homemade meatloaf on wheat. There were soups and salads to round out the menu, and it all looked delicious. The smell of homemade bread wafting through the deli was heavenly, but I was too distracted to fully appreciate it.
Behind the glass counter which displayed a variety of baked goods also for sale, Lee moved swiftly as he plated another order. For two hours and change on the job, he seemed confident. But then, making sandwiches wasn’t rocket science, especially for a smart guy like him.
He glanced up, catching my eye, and pulled a face. I averted my gaze back to the board.
I knew Lee felt smothered by me, and we were only about a week into protective custody. I didn’t want to annoy him so much he bolted, so after today, I’d be avoiding his workplace despite my urge to keep him in sight.
Lee was not in a safe house or in need of a bodyguard 24/7. He was building a new identity as Lee Tran, son of Vietnamese immigrants who’d “retired” to Arizona. He grew up in the Pacific Northwest, in the Seattle area, not LA. I had placed plenty of witnesses with new identities, but I’d never been placed with them. Usually, we checked in on them. If they weren’t trustworthy or were exchanging testimony for freedom as was Lee’s case, then they were locked up pending trial or kept in a safe house. With the leak in the Marshals Service, the usual avenues weren’t safe for Lee.
Besides, Lee needed to learn to accept his new identity. Even after the trial, he’d most likely be in hiding the rest of his life. With the gang’s reach and long memory for grudges, there was no end to his witness protection; only an end to my babysitting.
If he built a proper life here, he could stay. If he didn’t, he could choose a new location and start over. But he was never going home.
The door chimed with a new arrival, and Camden strolled in the door wearing a charcoal suit and a shy smile. All desire to watch Lee vanished as my eyes drank in this man as if I hadn’t just seen him not quite two days ago.
“Hi,” he said. “Fancy seeing you here.”
I grinned, resisting the urge to comment on his clothing. Today, Camden was dressed like a professional and I was resolved to treat him like one. “Indeed. The food looks good, though.”
Camden looked good, too.
The gray suit washed out his coloring and emphasized his slender frame, but it also aged him. For the first time, I wondered if Camden might be older than the 25 years I’d guessed him to be. Maybe he was even old enough for me, not that it mattered. I was off the market, sadly.
It wasn’t my favorite look for him. I’d never been turned on by a suit; I’d much rather see a man’s shape outlined by tight clothes. But, Cam would look good in a burlap sack and the suit did give him a professional look that probably helped. With his blond hair and baby blues, it must be difficult to get people to take him seriously.
“Lee is working here, huh?” Camden said. “No wonder you suggested this place. Not that it isn’t great. It’s one of my favorites.”
I smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I wanted to check up on him on his first day. Don’t tell him I said that, though.”
Camden laughed. “Well, he looks like a pro already.”
I glanced at Lee, hiding a smirk. No doubt he’d be more annoyed by that assessment than anything. He was an intellectual, who most likely found this kind of work beneath him. I thought it’d do him good to be humbled by customer service. Lee had grown up comfortably middle class, never having to work for anything he got.
He and his brothers had been so bored — or arrogant, maybe — that they’d created a criminal enterprise when they had all the resources to do something better with their lives. If they’d had more humility, they might have tried to give back to society instead of taking from it. Maybe they’d be alive, working normal jobs and starting families.
“I’m getting the southwest chicken salad. How about you?” Camden said, interrupting my thoughts.
“Christ, eat more than a salad. You’re too skinny as it is.”
A surprised laugh burst from Cam. “I eat plenty, thank you. I realize my first impression wasn’t so hot—”
“Oh, it was plenty hot,” I murmured and immediately cringed. Those were not the words of a man who loved his boyfriend. I’d resolved not to flirt today, and I’d already failed.
Get with the program, Reid.
Cam blushed and averted his eyes. “Um, well, you know what I mean. I probably came across as a homeless vagabond. But honestly, I’m not starving. My apartment really did get burglarized. I was telling the truth.”
I believed him. Camden had an honest face and eyes that would give him away the second he told a lie. But I didn’t know how to explain all that without hinting at my history in law enforcement.
The line moved forward, saving us both from awkwardness. Camden ordered the roast beef sandwich, giving me an annoyed look to make it clear he was doing it to appease me. I chose the meatloaf with a side of pasta salad. We made our drinks, and by the time we’d done that, our lunch was ready.
Lee slid the tray across the counter. “Enjoy your lunch,” he said in a syrupy sweet
voice, capped with a disturbingly wide smile.
At least he was trying? Though knowing Lee, he was probably being sarcastic rather than earnest.
We made our way across the café, which was doing a brisk business over the lunch hour, and Camden sat down at a small table by the large plate-glass window. I suppressed my natural urge to suggest the table crammed into a corner so I could keep my eyes on Lee, the door and all windows.
Be cool, Reid. You’re a normal guy.
I eased down in the seat across from him, and glanced uneasily out the window. There was plenty of traffic this time of day, and a few people entered and exited cars, but it wasn’t a hub of pedestrian activity. No one strolled directly by the window, and my nerves eased.
Ready to get down to business, I turned back to Camden.
“So, what do we need to do to get this house on the market?”
I figured it would take a while, and I hoped to live there until the trial at least. Once that was over, I could sell the home and move on. And Lee could stay or he could go.
“It needs some TLC,” Camden said tentatively. “The home needs to be cleared out and cleaned thoroughly. Then we can get a better idea about repairs.”
I swallowed my bite of meatloaf and chased it with a sip of iced tea.
“I’ve gotten a start on that, but do we have to clear out everything? Can’t we just stage it?” I needed some furniture to keep living there. I was hoping to stall Cam with remodeling projects, but I didn’t want to sleep on the floor.
“Well, sure. Once it’s available for showings we can either show it as a vacant home or we can stage it. But to stage it, you need a heck of a lot less stuff in there. Less is more. And you need new furniture. Everything in the house is decades out of date and that won’t help us showcase it as a home someone wants now.”
I nodded. “Makes sense.”
“And there’s plenty of exterior work to do too,” Camden said. “The house needs a fresh coat of paint. The roof needs to be inspected. That will hold up a home loan if it can’t be insured. This will all take time, so it’s perfectly reasonable if you want to live there while you rehab the house and tackle the staging last. Even then, I imagine you’ll want to clean out a lot of the clutter.”
He offered good advice. As young and inexperienced as he was, he seemed to know houses and real estate. Then again, who didn’t with the plethora of reality TV shows about flipping and selling homes?
“The place is a bit full, isn’t it?” I said, appreciating his tact about my uncle’s hoarding even if it wasn’t necessary. “I’m not sure—”
A loud voice interrupted me. “Cam! Long time no see.”
A tall, auburn-haired man who looked to be in his forties weaved between tables. He wasn’t weaving because the place was crowded, but because he was unsteady on his feet. He wore a stained western-style button-down shirt, dark blue jeans and cowboy boots. He wasn’t broad-shouldered and bulky, but his arms were corded with muscle. Despite looking like a slob, his clothes were new and nicely tailored for his body, giving him the look of a faux cowboy. All he was missing was the cowboy hat.
“Oh no,” Cam whispered, so quietly I almost missed it. Then he plastered on a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Hey, Austin. How are you?”
“Fine, fine.” Austin glanced at me, gaze scanning over my buzzed head to my chest and whatever else he could manage to see around the table. Probably not much. “I’ve been calling you.”
Camden grimaced. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve been so busy, and actually I’m in the middle of something right now.”
His gaze flew back to Cam, his lips curling down. “Yeah, I see that. Just bouncing from one dick to the next, huh?”
WOW. That was brazen.
“That’s not what this is,” Camden said in a tight voice as a red flush climbed his neck. One hand clenched the side of the table so hard his fingers turned white. When he looked at me, his expression was mortified. “I’m so sorry, Reid. This isn’t, I’m not …”
He didn’t finish his statement, biting down on a trembling lip.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said, holding Cam’s gaze. “Your friend is clearly drunk, but you’re not accountable for his rude behavior.”
“I was going to ask you to come home, you know,” Austin blustered on. I wasn’t sure he was aware of our conversation because he didn’t react to my comment. “I should have known you’d run to another guy as fast as you could.”
Camden ignored Austin’s words, responding to me instead. “He’s not my friend. He’s not my anything.”
Those words shouldn’t have relieved me. I told myself it was because I didn’t want Camden mixed up with such an asshole. But I knew I was lying to myself. I wanted Camden free of attachments. I wanted him single and available, even if I technically wasn’t, and what kind of asshole did that make me?
Austin blinked blearily. I wasn’t sure he’d followed anything we’d said because he continued as if I wasn’t there.
“You always did need someone to take care of you. It’s not like you have any skills outside of the bedroom, is it? Can’t b’lieve I was gonna forgive you.”
After ignoring Austin’s insults, Camden finally snapped.
“Forgive me?” Cam’s voice went up an octave, and I laid a reassuring hand over his when he curled it into a fist. “Austin, this is a business lunch. Mr. Bishop is my client. And I don’t forgive you for trying to hit me.”
“He did what?”
My voice went hard. I had zero tolerance for abusive assholes. No wonder Camden seemed uncomfortable with compliments if he was used to being with someone who treated him like shit.
“That was an accident! I was drunk.”
“You’re always drunk, and I don’t forgive you for that, either. Please just go.”
“It’s not like you made it easy, Cam. You weren’t there when I needed you.”
Camden turned a furious expression on Austin. “I was always there when you needed me. That’s all I was to you. I want more out of life than being ready and willing 24/7. Just go away, Austin.”
“Ready and willing is all you’ll ever be good for, Cam.”
Camden dropped his face into his hands.
“Oh my God.” He peeked through his fingers. “I’m so sorry, Reid. I don’t think we can finish this meeting right now. I’ve got to get him out of here.”
We were attracting stares from neighboring tables, and even though Camden had kept his voice low, Austin had apparently lost that control along with his sobriety.
“Let me just have them box up our food and I’ll come with you to make sure Austin gets home.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
I looked at the crude, drunken man who had apparently taken a swing at Camden. “I really do.”
We managed to place Austin in a cab, all while he berated Camden verbally with a slew of insults. Cam looked utterly humiliated, but he didn’t respond to his ex. I could tell he didn’t want to escalate the situation, only escape it.
Watching the car pull away, he mumbled another apology without meeting my eye.
“This must not seem very professional.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Camden. He was completely inappropriate, but you did your best to keep it civil.”
For some reason, I wanted to reassure him, even though it had been a bit of a shit show.
It seemed like something was going wrong for Cam at every turn. First the shower fiasco at the house and now a drunken ex-boyfriend when he was trying so hard to make a more professional impression. But it all served to intrigue me more than irritate me.
Cam turned, a strained smile plastered on his face. “Well, assuming you can still work with me after hearing all of that, I recommend you clear everything out but the furniture you need while you stay there. If you need some recommendations, there are plenty of guys you can hire to help out. Heck, I’d do it myself, too. I’ve got some time in between clients for odd jobs.�
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“Yeah? Well, I’d rather hire you than someone else. At least you’ll have the motivation to get the work done quickly.”
“True.”
I handed him the to-go box with the rest of his meal, hesitant to say goodbye.
“So, how’s the apartment?”
Camden dipped his head. “Right now, I’m crashing with Miguel.”
I stared after the taxi that had carried Camden’s ex away. “You think Austin could be behind that break-in?”
“What? No way.”
I glanced over at him. “Don’t dismiss it. If he’s angry you left him and eager to get you back, what better way than sabotaging your living situation? He turned up awfully soon after it happened to invite you back home.”
Camden turned to look down the street, and I could see by the way he chewed on his lip that he was turning my words over in his head.
“I really hope that’s not the case,” he said finally. “In the meantime, I can stay with Miguel. So, don’t worry about me. Let’s schedule a walk-through of the house, make a list, and get to work.”
As much as I wanted to reassure him that I didn’t think less of him because of a bunch of drunken insults, I could tell he wanted to forget about Austin and move on. So, I kept to the subject of the house.
“You got time for a walk-through now?” I asked.
I had a few hours to kill until Lee would be done with his shift. Might as well spend it with a gorgeous man I couldn’t have.
Chapter 7
Reid
After talking Camden into a quick, reheated lunch in my now clean kitchen, I led him room to room in a household project tour. Watching his reactions play out as I asked for repair suggestions was interesting. I could tell he was tallying up estimates in his head, eyes getting wider and wider.
“Are you sure you want to take all this on?” he asked finally, as we stood in a cramped bedroom upstairs. We’d already discussed potential improvements in the kitchen and both bathrooms, though Camden had suggested we call out a contractor for an official estimate on cost.
He looked at a section of warped wood flooring in the corner of the bedroom, indicating a water leak at one time. A brown stain swelled across the ceiling and down one wall, discoloring the faded floral wallpaper. Probably an ongoing leak by the looks of it.
