by Tara Lain
“Oh, I don’t know. I thought we moved pretty fast.”
They sat down, told their server they were in a hurry, and started on two quick iced teas. Man, he hadn’t drunk so much soft stuff on a weekend in years. It felt kind of good.
The middle-aged waitress took them seriously about the timing and brought Sky’s veggie burger and Adam’s tuna melt quickly.
“Are you vegetarian?” Adam shoved a little lettuce in his mouth.
“Mostly. I eat a little fish sometimes, but there are so few species that aren’t overfished. Since I’m underwater so much, I guess I’m really aware of it.”
Man, this guy was one serious departure. “That’s pretty fancy equipment you dive with.”
Sky wiped a little mustard from his lip with his napkin. “Yeah. I’ve been a rebreather diver for a few years. No bubbles. I can get close to the sea life without scaring anything away. Unlike some octopus terrorists I know.” He grinned.
“Yeah, well, I’ll always be grateful to that octopus.”
“Me too. It’s a special species called the Yentapus.”
Adam laughed. He liked that Sky made him laugh. Sky also didn’t ask a lot of personal questions, which Adam liked even more. The day might be coming when he’d share his whole story with Sky. Strange to even think that could happen, considering how many years he’d been careful. But Sky seemed trustworthy. He had integrity.
Still, Adam couldn’t share on one day’s acquaintance. Hell, they hadn’t even traded last names. Not real ones.
“Can I ask why you’re still in the closet? Don’t tell me if it’s too personal.” Sky ate the last bite of his sandwich.
“It’s not an interesting story, really. I’m from back East. I came out to my family and friends when I was seventeen. There was this football player I thought I loved. Anyway, it went badly. My parents freaked, and I wasn’t allowed to see the guy again. His parents shipped him off to military school like in some movie cliché. Huge shit-hitting-fan scene. I went away to college, crawled back into the closet, moved away from my family permanently, and started over. I decided seventeen was too young to configure your whole life path. I wanted another chance. And here I am. This is my second chance.”
“Are you happy?”
Hell, Sky did have a way of getting to the heart of the matter. “Happy enough, I guess.”
That level stare rested on his face. “Good.” Sky looked at his watch. “Sorry to eat and run, but I gotta get going.”
Adam flagged the waitress and made a scribbling motion. “Let me get the check, and I’ll walk you to your car.”
“That would be great.”
Adam thanked the waitress and tossed some bills on the table but refused to let Sky add any. The two of them walked up the path toward the parking lot on the other side of the highway.
When they got to the tunnel that burrowed under Pacific Coast Highway, Sky called, “Hellooo, Adam,” then cocked an ear to listen to the echo. He was half philosopher and half kid. And all okay.
In the parking lot, Sky walked toward a periwinkle blue Prius. It figured. Somebody with pets named Gore and Cousteau must do some serious recycling.
Sky clicked his key fob, and the car beeped. He opened the door to sit on the driver’s seat with his long legs still on the ground. “Thanks so much for meeting me.”
Adam squatted down beside the open door in front of Sky. “Hell, I’m the one who’s thankful.”
Sky grinned. “Yeah, well, I got the better end of the deal today.”
“You can owe me.”
“With pleasure.”
Adam looked up into the stormy eyes. Was he going to do it? After all these years of caution, was he going to kiss a guy in a parking lot?
Hell, yes.
He tipped up his chin and leaned in. If Sky didn’t want to, all he had to do was lean back, but he didn’t.
Sweet. Sky’s lips were so soft. Like a girl’s, almost. But that tongue was pure male, pushing hot and hard between Adam’s lips. Sky grabbed Adam’s head with both hands. He almost toppled over backward, but Sky held him and plundered his mouth. Man, his cock was throbbing again. On fire. He wanted to climb into the back seat and ride Sky all the way to oblivion.
Sky ripped his mouth away and looked at Adam fiercely. “Crap. I was so nice and satisfied, and now I’m crazy to fuck you.”
“Likewise.”
“Don’t know how I’m going to last until Friday, but I guess we gotta. My life’s not my own for a few days.”
“How about the middle of the night?” Adam was only half kidding.
“I can’t even predict my nights until the weekend.”
“I understand. I have a pretty busy week too.” That was an understatement.
“You in business?”
“Lawyer.” His heart was thumping. That’s the most he’d ever told any guy he fucked.
Sky grinned. “Oh, like the ones at the bottom of the Mariana Trench?”
“Yeah, a good start.”
Sky leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips, then pulled his legs into the car. Adam stood, and Sky closed the door, pushed a button on the dash, and the car hummed to life. Whir. Ping. Jesus, those cars made weird noises.
Sky reached a hand out the window. Adam touched his fingers to Sky’s, and Sky smiled. “See you Friday.”
“Yeah.”
“I miss you already.” He drove off, the Prius weirdly silent.
Adam could barely catch his breath. Miss you already. Shit. That guy was the most dangerous combination of deadly honest and completely irresistible.
Adam was about to risk everything for a guy. That sounded way too much like high school. If he had one ounce of fucking sense, he’d cancel the date and never see Sky again.
But that feeling in Adam’s chest was not fear. That throbbing in his cock seemed unlikely to stop anytime soon. Chances of walking away from Sky? Zero.
ADAM SIPPED his iced tea and glanced over at Bill Woolsey, who was flipping through his papers and mainlining coffee. It was show time, and Bill looked like he was hiding his nerves. They only had to walk out of the restaurant and across the street to make it to the council chambers on time.
Adam stared down at his laptop screen one more time. There it was. Sky@mailserve. I miss you like crazy. Can’t wait until Friday. If you could wear away an e-mail by looking at it, this one should be long gone. He’d glanced at it every few minutes on Monday during the rehearsal with the architect and planner.
Then he’d gone home and jerked off for half an hour while picturing Sky in every erotic pose possible. In Adam’s dreams, Sky looked great with his legs over his head while Adam hammered his hole. Bet that lean, lanky body could do it too. He probably practiced yoga.
On Tuesday, while they finalized the exhibits, he’d dreamed over his e-mail again until Bill asked him what was so interesting on his computer. After that Adam had started to pay more attention to the project. This distraction wasn’t like him. WMA Development trusted him because he was a fanatic for detail and precision, and he knew the law. They’d given him equity in the deal to further inspire him to ensure this project was approved.
So far so good. The land was toxic. Very toxic. It had been a drilling site for years and needed serious remediation before the big, mixed-use development could proceed. Fortunately, WMA was tried and tested at remediation.
But something nagged at him—like a nasty little itch in the back of his brain.
Now the council meeting waited right across the street, and it still bugged him. Adam didn’t like that. He’d built his reputation on careful consideration of every subtlety and nuance of a project, and if anything went wrong, the shit storm always hit him first.
Bill looked at his watch. They were hanging out preparing in peace instead of sitting in the packed council chamber all night. A bunch of other issues were being reviewed before they went on, so they might as well be comfortable. Bill had his assistant, JT, stationed over there, ready t
o call when they got close to their spot on the agenda.
The itch made Adam wriggle. “Hey, Bill.”
Bill looked up. That silver-fox hair of his shone in the bright restaurant lights. “Yeah?”
“You mentioned on Friday that you were doing some work on the land.”
“Did I say that?”
“Yeah.”
“Must have been drunk. Friday happy hour verbal diarrhea. Don’t worry about it.” He went back to his notes.
True, Bill had been pretty hammered on Friday, but he wasn’t denying that they had done some unauthorized work.
“You know we could be in deep shit if we do anything to that land until we have approval. The habitat has to be inspected before we can remove it. If it’s ESHA, we’re toast.”
Bill frowned. “Environmentally sensitive habitat, my ass. It’s just a lot of pucker brush and chaparral. It’s our land.”
“We paid for it, but we could be left holding a big parcel of environmentally sensitive habitat if we don’t get past this meeting and the next one. The Newport Nature Preserve could be out there riling up the homeowners right now.”
“Earl’s in our pocket.”
“Good, but one vote won’t do the job, as you well know. We need a clear majority, and we’re pretty sure that Lilly March will be against us, so we need three more votes. Marcuso might abstain. He’s kind of a chickenshit and doesn’t want to commit to much. He makes it even harder to win.”
Bill waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t worry about it, okay?”
Itch unscratched. But hell, if Bill wouldn’t talk, what could Adam do? He looked at the e-mail one more time and closed the computer. “Maybe we should get over there?”
“Don’t be nervous. JT hasn’t called us yet.”
“I’m not nervous.” That was a lie. A million dollars could make your palms sweat. “I just want to scope out the opposition. See how many of the homeowners are there. JT won’t recognize them.”
“Sure. Go ahead. I’ll be over in a little while.”
Adam gathered his computer and notes, and then headed out into the cool summer evening. Lido Village was hopping even on a Thursday, and music and laughter drifted from the cafés and bars. Bet they were having more fun than he was. He’d love to take Sky someplace like this. Imagine going where they could dance. Was there such a place? He sighed. Concentrate.
He crossed the street to city hall and entered the council chamber. The place was crammed. A man stood at the lectern on the floor presenting an issue about tree trimming. JT waved from the next-to-last row of visitors. He had stuff on several chairs he was holding. Adam scooted past a couple of people and sat in the uncomfortable seat. He leaned over so he wouldn’t disturb anyone. “Where are they?”
“We’re after the next presentation, but they sure are taking forever with these fucking trees.”
“Yeah, trees are big. You probably better call Bill.”
“Okay.” JT slid out the other way. He couldn’t make a call inside the chamber.
A few people in the audience looked like the homeowners who lived next to the project, but this far back in the room, he couldn’t be sure. He stood and sidestepped past the big man beside him. The guy gave him a look. “Sorry.”
Adam walked down the side of the chamber against the wall, then stopped and looked back. Yeah, he recognized maybe five or so of the homeowners, but where the hell was Biloxi, the head of the nature preserve? A couple of other key players from the opposition were also missing. He’d love to believe they’d given up. That would be way too much to hope for. He blew out a long breath. He loathed not knowing—but he had lots of practice.
He glanced up at the council sitting on the dais in their big old Naugahyde chairs. Earl Hamston was looking at him and gave a little wink. Adam didn’t like the guy much, but Hamston represented a lot of money in Adam’s pocket if he helped WMA Development win. Adam closed his eyes for a second. It’s not the money. It’s the freedom. Hell, maybe I’ll even come out of the closet.
Whoa. Had he really just thought that? Would he do it? After constructing this huge life, would he let it all fall down? Would he change people’s perceptions of him, piss off a bunch of clients, and generally threaten his whole business? Jesus, what a thought. But imagine being able to be who he was. Have real friends who knew him and go out with other gay guys in public. Maybe have a boyfriend. Maybe have Sky. The idea took his breath away.
Don’t get ahead of yourself. You haven’t won this deal yet.
Bill entered the back of the chamber with JT. Keith and Ed must have arrived while Adam wasn’t looking, because they were sitting in some of the chairs JT had saved. Adam walked back to them.
One of the council people leaned forward and spoke into his microphone. “Item twelve on the agenda has been continued. We move on to item thirteen.”
Adam grabbed his computer. “We’re up.”
He and Bill led the group with Keith and Ed bringing up the rear. At the front, Bill signed them in. Earl Hamston passed copies of their exhibits down the council table.
Bill walked to the microphone. “Good evening, gentlemen.” He nodded at Lilly March. “And lady.” The chubby blonde ignored him. Scary. She was no friend of theirs. “Thanks, Earl, for passing out the exhibits. I hope everyone had a chance to review the presentation before the meeting.” Bill looked back at JT to see if he had attached the computer to the projector. JT nodded, and Bill faced front. “There are a number of points I’d like to cover in our few minutes of presentation time, but nothing is more important than what this project can mean to the city. Not just in tax revenues, but in services for children and adults.”
Adam smiled. Bill opened with the biggie—tax revenues—so the council members would be salivating too hard to worry about anything else.
Bill pushed the remote in his hand, and a full-color rendering of the project as imagined by the architect flashed on the screen. The assembled crowd murmured softly. The WMA team had worked hard to make this rendering fabulous. Fountains, parkland, commercial space, entertainment, and of course, houses. Bill’s voice rose. “What community wouldn’t welcome such amenities in their neighborhood? Imagine….”
Noise came from the back of the hall, the sounds of footsteps and voices. Adam looked back and saw two of the key players from the nature preserve stalking down the aisle. Shit. Did they plan this disruption? The man and the woman came directly to the front, where two other people stood and gave them their chairs. That sure as hell was orchestrated.
When the noise died down, Bill continued. He showed plans, discussed needed variances, and emphasized revenues while glossing over the issues of toxic remediation and traffic, which were the weak points in the presentation. The details weren’t worked out yet. He simply emphasized that WMA had extensive experience in remediation of toxic areas, and that the cleanup would be a huge boon to the neighborhoods surrounding the project. Good man.
Bill turned and smiled at Adam. “And now I’d like to introduce you to another member of our team, Mr. Adam James, who will conclude our presentation.”
Adam stood and took Bill’s place at the lectern. He flashed the pearlies. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m a lawyer.” He remembered Sky’s old joke. “Fortunately, I’m not one of those at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, though it is a good start.” A few people laughed. “I don’t have much to say except to assure you that we are dotting our i’s and crossing our t’s on this project. We’re making every effort to follow the city’s regulations to the letter because we know what a benefit this development will be to the residents. The land as it stands is polluted and toxic. It may even be a danger to the people who live near it. It’s exciting to imagine putting this polluted land to use for the welfare of the residents of Newport Beach. I’m one of those residents, and I’m honored to be able to help improve my city. Thank you so much for your kind attention.”
The mayor leaned forward. “Thank you, gentlemen. We’ll now hear from all
interested parties.”
Wham. The back door opened again. Adam turned. What the hell? Were they at this again?
At least sixteen people walked into the council chamber, led by Michael Biloxi, the young tree hugger from the preserve. Damn. Biloxi had been trying to drum up support, and it appeared he’d succeeded. He walked straight to the lectern. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Michael Biloxi. I head an organization called Newport Nature Preserve that is trying to purchase this land with the long-term goal of maintaining it as open space—among the few remaining parcels of open space in the entire city. But as Mr. James has pointed out—”
Okay, they were listening.
“—this land is deeply toxic. So much so that we maintain that it cannot be remediated by the developer’s methods. Not sufficiently to be an appropriate environment for housing and commercial property where children will play every day. To support this point of view, the nature preserve has asked an expert in environmental science to represent us here. I would like to introduce the council to Dr. Sky Sea Mickeljohn.”
The name rang through the big room. Adam wheeled toward the door along with everyone else in the chambers.
Bill grabbed Adam’s arm. “What the fuck is Mickeljohn doing here? This deal is too small for him. I can’t believe he’d take on a bunch of bleeding-heart homeowners.”
Adam shook his head. “No idea. Who’s Skizie Mickeljohn?”
“A killer environmentalist, but he usually only handles big Coastal Commission stuff. And it’s not ‘Skizie.’”
As the tall, lean figure walked into the room wearing jeans, a sport coat, and glasses, curls bouncing, the snarky retort Adam planned caught in his throat and threatened to suffocate him.
“It’s Sky.”
Fucking hell. Sky. His Sky.
SKY MANAGED to put one foot in front of the other by taking deep breaths. There he was. He’d heard that voice on the other side of the door and wanted to puke. Tall, handsome, lying bastard. Sky stared forward. The walk to the front of the chamber felt like the length of a football field. Everyone stared at him. Including Adam.
