Sparks

by Talia Carmichael

  “Tomas likes to boss people around,” Bernie grumbled.

  “Karl did too. But it was his way of showing he cared. Drove me nuts.” Harper laughed. He stopped, startled, and then said softly, “That’s the first time I’ve actually laughed since he’s been gone.”

  Bernie gripped the hand he held. Music started to play. Harper frowned, then withdrew his hand. He pulled out a cell and glanced at the screen.

  “Ramirez,” he groaned.

  “Aren’t you all good friends?” Bernie asked.

  “We are, but he’s become overprotective. I’ve become an obligation—one who can’t be left alone,” Harper said in the same bitter tone as earlier.

  Bernie nodded, understanding about the feeling of being an obligation.

  “Was he the one on the phone earlier?”

  “Yeah. To check on me and tell me when he was getting me to take me home.”

  “If you don’t want him to take you home, then tell him to buzz off,” Bernie suggested.

  Harper laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t do that.”

  “You can.”

  Harper looked speculative, and then he smirked. Pressing a button on his phone, he spoke. “Yes, Ramirez.” He listened, then said, “I don’t need you to come get me. I’ll find my own way home. F—” He pulled the phone away from his ear.

  Bernie could hear someone yelling, but not what they were saying. Harper frowned, then put the phone back to his ear.

  “Shut the fuck up. I’m going home on my own. Deal with it. If I see you anywhere near my store or my house tonight, you’re going to regret it.” Harper’s tone was steely.

  The sound of an angry voice came across the line. Harper hung up. He grinned at Bernie. Bernie laughed. He glanced at his watch.

  “I’ve got to go. Thanks for the tea and pastry,” he said.

  “You didn’t get to drink it. Let me at least wrap the pastry for you.” Harper stood, put everything on the tray, and hurried away.

  Bernie stood and followed after him. Harper went behind the counter, boxed up his pastry, and put in a few more.

  “I don’t need all those,” Bernie protested.

  “Should I be offended you don’t like my pastries?” a familiar voice asked.

  Bernie glanced at the man who spoke. His eyes widened. Without being told, he knew he was looking at Karl’s brother, Kenton Provenza. Kenton sounded and looked a lot like his brother. He had the same craggy features, blue-gray eyes, and black hair. Kenton’s frame was more brawny and stockier than Karl’s, and his hair longer and more unruly.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “So what do you mean, Bernie?” Kenton’s eyes twinkled with a devilish spark, just as his brother’s always had.

  Bernie smiled and pointed. “I want some of those… and those.”

  “You got it.” Kenton smirked.

  Bernie gawked as Kenton efficiently boxed up the parties he’d pointed to. Kenton slid the box to him. Bernie chuckled as he took out his card.

  “Now, you’re not going to insult me with money, are you, Berns?” Kenton crossed his muscular arms over his barrel chest.

  “I don’t need charity,” Bernie snapped.

  “You’re as prickly as Tomas said, and cuter than your picture. And this ain’t charity,” Kenton said.

  “You know Tomas? And you’ve seen a picture of me?”

  “Yep. I grew up with and am best buds with the old pain in the ass. Used to work for him too. Robin was in here a while back, showing us pictures of his and Miguel’s barbecue.” Kenton put his hands on the counter.

  “It was a blast.”

  “If you ever get that formula to paralyze Tomas’s big mouth, let me know. Would love to see that. Gotta go. Have some customers to serve. Come back again, Bernie. I’ll show you some of Tomas’s favorite pastries. The man has a sweet tooth.” Kenton walked away.

  “I will!” Bernie called.

  “Here you go.” Harper put the pasty box with the store logo into a bag, which also had the logo.

  “I really can’t take that.”

  “Don’t piss off Kenton. He gets growly, and that’s something I don’t need to deal with.” Harper came out through the swinging gate and handed him the bag.

  Bernie took it. Harper walked with him to the door.

  Bernie paused, then said, “Come have movie night.”

  Harper looked startled. “Simon mentioned you all have that. But I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Please. It’s just us hanging out, watching movies. So come on. Don’t want me to get growly. It’s not a pretty sight,” Bernie said playfully.

  Harper chuckled. “Wouldn’t want that. Let me check the front and get my bag.”

  Harper walked away. Bernie leaned against a wall close to the door and out of the way. Harper was back in no time. They left the store and headed for Bernie’s condo.

  “So, what are the books you think I should add?” Harper asked.

  Bernie told him, and they talked as they went. Before Bernie knew it, they were at his house, and he led Harper to the living room then left him and went to get them drinks. Settling on the couch next to Harper, Bernie handed him a drink, and then turned on the TV.

  “So when are you and Tomas going to do the deed?”

  Bernie choked on his drink at Harper’s question. Harper patted him on the back. After his coughing was under control, Bernie glanced at him.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Please. After that show last night, everyone is expecting you all will be doing it soon. At least, that’s the bet going on.”

  “You heard about our dance?” Bernie flushed.

  “My phone was ringing off the hook when you all got on the floor. And Mackenzie gave me blow-by-blow details of you all getting wicked.”

  Bernie scowled. The Mackenzie, Harper was referring to had to be the owner of Bacchus Sloan. He knew Mackenzie not only from the eatery, but socially. Bernie had met him on the rare times Mackenzie made it to poker, or a few times hanging out with Tomas and his family. You would think the man would have a business to run instead of watching him and Tomas. Bernie sat up as the rest of what Harper had said registered.

  “There’s a bet on us?”

  “Oh, yeah. Down to how long it will be and who will make the first move.” Harper laughed.

  “What’re the stakes?” Bernie pursed his lips.

  “One hundred dollars,” Harper said.

  Bernie leaned back and put his hand in his pocket. Pulling out his wallet, he counted out some money. He put his wallet back and sat up. “Who do I need to give it to?”

  “You’re going to bet on yourself?” Harper sounded shocked.

  “I’m going to bet for never,” Bernie replied.

  “I’ll bet that, too, and give it to Miguel,” Alex said, plucking the money out of Bernie’s hand.

  “When did you get here?” Bernie glanced at him.

  “A little while ago. Long enough to hear Harper blabbing about the bet.” Alex leaned over and kissed Bernie briefly on the lips.

  “Should have known you would be in on the bet.” Bernie swatted at him.

  “You know it.” Alex laughed and dodged away.

  Alex moved over to Harper and kissed him quickly on the lips. Harper blinked, startled.

  “Ignore him. When he’s around me, he likes to act like he’s the ‘kiss fairy’, just to make me blush.” Bernie rolled his eyes.

  “And it always works. I love seeing Bernie blush.” Alex grinned wickedly, touching Bernie’s cheek.

  Bernie snapped his teeth at Alex. Alex laughed, then flopped down on Harper’s lap. Harper stiffened.

  “Now, now. Don’t get all stiff on me. It’s good seeing you again, Harper. You just disappeared after Karl died. That’s no way to treat people,” Alex stated.

  “Butt out.” Harper glared.

  “Nope. You need to stop being the antisocial ass and let your friends in.”

  “Alex,�
� Bernie said.

  “Hush, Bernie.” Alex’s eyes had that stubborn look Bernie had become familiar with.

  Bernie leaned back, knowing it was useless trying to stop him.

  Alex turned his attention back to Harper. He shifted, straddling Harper’s lap.

  “Cutting yourself off from those who love you is not the way,” Alex said.

  “Mind your business. What do you know about it?” Harper snarled.

  “I know more than you will ever know,” Alex said softly.

  Bernie glanced at him sharply. There was a sad look on Alex’s face and in his pale gray eyes. Harper studied Alex, and something seemed to pass between them. Bernie opened his mouth to ask, but changed his mind. Harper pulled Alex into his arms. The two men held each other. Harsh sobs racked Harper. Alex looked at Bernie, his eyes looking lost. Bernie scooted over to them and hugged them both. They both sighed. Alex moved over Bernie onto his left side, cuddling in. Harper pressed against Bernie’s right side. He put his arms around both men. Music started to play. Harper cursed and reached for his phone. Bernie snatched it out of his hand. He pressed it on.

  “Fuck off, Ramirez. Harper is with me,” Bernie growled.

  “Bernie?” Ramirez sounded shocked.

  “Yeah. Leave Harper alone. He doesn’t need you hovering,” Bernie snapped.

  “What the fuck? How did he end up with you?” Ramirez said furiously.

  “Don’t worry about it. Don’t call again.” Bernie hung up the phone.

  “Oh, man. I can imagine Gerald’s face.” Harper laughed.

  “He woke the sleeping Bernie, the one who gets all protective, stubborn, and pissy. Boy, he doesn’t have a clue what he did.” Alex chuckled.

  The phone started to ring again. Bernie glanced at the number, then answered it.

  “Fuck off,” Bernie snapped and hung up. He glanced at Alex, then Harper. “So… movie, cuddling on the couch, and whatever food Alex brought.”

  The two men looked at each other, and then started to laugh. Bernie joined them, hugging them.

  TOMAS pulled in behind Ramirez’s already-parked car, and then got out of his truck and jogged up the driveway. After Ramirez’s statement about Bernie, he had filled Tomas in on what had happened. Tomas wasn’t sure how Bernie and Harper had ended up together at the condo. He didn’t even know why Bernie had supposedly cursed Ramirez out when he called Harper’s phone. He thought Ramirez was mistaken about Bernie cursing him. The Bernie they all knew wasn’t one for confrontations, which was what he’d told Ramirez.

  He’d been able to convince Ramirez to go and have dinner with him so they could talk. Over the dinner, it had become obvious Ramirez was being overprotective—bordering on smothering—of Harper. Tomas had understood Ramirez, in his way, was looking out for Harper. Provenza and Ramirez had been extremely close. They’d hung out together often. Provenza being gone had to be hard on Ramirez. In Tomas’s opinion, Ramirez was behaving how a friend would act when trying to help out a friend’s spouse when they died, except he was being extreme with it. Eventually, as the night wore on, Ramirez had become more and more agitated until finally he said he was going to Bernie’s with or without him. Tomas had agreed to go to the condo to keep the peace. Tomas caught Ramirez’s raised fist just before he pounded on the door. Ramirez jerked his arm away.

  “Calm down, Ramirez.”

  “He cursed at me. Then that little fucker hung up on me. Eight times,” Ramirez growled.

  “Well, did you ever think to stop calling?” Tomas asked reasonably.

  Ramirez glared. “Open the door, or I’ll kick it down.”

  “It’s probably already open.” Tomas opened the unlocked door and strode in.

  “He doesn’t even lock his door? You need to get control of your man.”

  “He’s not my man,” Tomas snapped.

  “Keep telling yourself that,” Ramirez retorted.

  Tomas went into the living room. Not seeing anyone, he went to the kitchen.

  “Where the hell did they go?” Ramirez grumbled.

  “I don’t know. Maybe they went out.” Tomas went back into the hall.

  “I hear something in the back.”

  “That’s the master bedroom,” Tomas said, heading that way.

  He pushed open the door. Glancing in, he frowned. Bernie and Alex, with Harper in the middle, lay in the bed, cuddled up together.

  “What the hell?” Ramirez asked, trying to push past him.

  Tomas pushed him out, closing the door. Ramirez pushed against him. Tomas shoved him back, herding him back down the hall. They strained as they scuffled. Ramirez finally reached the door, and Tomas got in front of him, pushing at Ramirez’s barrel chest.

  “Stop. Don’t go busting in there like an ass. You know what Harper said. Hell, Bernie too.” Tomas grunted as he held Ramirez back.

  “He shouldn’t be in bed with him,” Ramirez growled.

  “You can trust Bernie and A—”

  Ramirez interrupted. “Not him. That Alex. I see how he acts around everyone. Always touchy-feely.”

  “You never had a problem with it before. Usually, you laugh it off and grope him. Thought you all were cool.” Tomas raised an eyebrow.

  “We are, but he still shouldn’t be in bed with Harper. He’s vulnerable right now. Doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Ramirez grumbled.

  Tomas released him, since Ramirez had stopped trying to push past him. Ramirez leaned on the wall next to the door, running his hand through his hair. Tomas studied him. The usually affable Ramirez looked frazzled and out of sorts. Lines of strain were on his face.

  “What’s really going on? Why haven’t you or Harper been coming to the poker games or other things?”

  “It’s Harper’s choice. And I’ve been keeping close to keep his family”—there was a sneer in his tone—“from taking advantage of him. Ever since Karl died, they’ve moved into Harper’s house. They’ve taken over. And Harper doesn’t even care that they have. He’s just going through the motions and letting them have their way. Karl wouldn’t have stood for it. Hell, the old Harper wouldn’t have either.” Ramirez sighed.

  “It’ll take time for him to get back on his feet. Give him time. He doesn’t need you hovering.” Tomas put his hand on Ramirez’s shoulder, squeezing it.

  “I’m all he’s got to stand between him and that family of his,” Ramirez defended.

  “He doesn’t need a keeper. He needs a friend,” Tomas said.

  “Like you and Bernie? Don’t talk when you’re doing the same thing,” Ramirez sneered.

  “What do Bernie and I have to do with this?” Tomas withdrew his hand, frowning.

  “You act like Bernie’s keeper, but he doesn’t need one. Hell, with the stipend he got this year, he doesn’t need to ‘cook’”—Ramirez made quotation signs with his fingers—“for you anymore. You can give up the pretense of not being able to cook. Just come clean and fuck him already.”

  “I don’t want to fuck Bernie,” Tomas insisted.

  Ramirez looked at him in disbelief. “You really have no clue. Even with the dance, where you all almost humped each other on the floor.”

  “Miguel talks too much,” Tomas growled.

  “Hell, I didn’t hear it from him first. Alejandro told me. Then my phone blew up with calls from everyone else. It was the talk of the crew. And, of course, now there’s a bet.”

  “You take such pleasure in telling me that. What? You plan on winning this one too, like the one with Miguel and Robert?” Tomas said.

  “What can I say? I’m lucky.” Ramirez smiled slyly.

  “Why does everyone assume there’s something more between Bernie and me than what it is?” Tomas frowned.

  “You really are oblivious.” Ramirez looked baffled.

  Tomas said firmly. “The kid is nice enough, but he’s just Bernie.”

  “He’s not a kid. You two are already like a couple. The only thing you’re not doing is fucking.”

  “Th
at’s not true. We’re not like a couple.”

  Ramirez ticked off his fingers with each point. “Let us count the ways. One, you all buy groceries together. Two, he cooks said groceries for you. Three, you take showers here when you come to dinner. Four, you wash his clothes. Five, when you all are hanging out with the crew, you come together, with you driving. Six, he even goes to family dinner with you. Sounds like being a couple to me. Hell, if I could find me a woman to cook like Bernie does for you, I would marry her.”

  “We shop for groceries together because he cooks for me. Which he does because… well, that doesn’t matter. I clean up here because if I come from a job, I smell bad. I wash his clothes since he cooks and to save him money since I have a washer and dryer in my house. If we’re going out with the crew, it makes sense to go together to save gas. As for family dinner, he came so Mami could feed him, and I can’t not bring him. The family would kill me,” Tomas said, defending himself.

  Ramirez shook his head. “My God. You really are oblivious.”

  “You too. You have someone who does all the same things you claim Bernie does for me.”

  “This isn’t about me and Harper. And he’s my friend. I don’t go that way,” Ramirez growled.

  “Now who’s oblivious?” Tomas asked.

  “Shut the hell up.” Ramirez straightened, getting in his face.

  Tomas put his hand up, stepping back. “Okay.”

  “Harper needs me to be his friend,” Ramirez growled.

  “Okay,” Tomas said.

  “Worry about you and Bernie, and what you’re going to do about what’s between you two,” Ramirez said.

  “There’s nothing there but friendship.”

  “Who’re you trying to convince, me or yourself?” Ramirez snorted.

  “No convincing needed. What’s the stakes and rules of this bet?” Tomas asked.

  “A hundred. Who will make the first move, and by when.”

  “What did you bet?”

  “On you making a move by tomorrow.”

  “Huh. Why’d you pick that?” Tomas queried.

  “Because if you don’t wake up and make a move by then, you won’t,” Ramirez said.