by Shawn Lane
The Best Gift
By Shawn Lane
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2017 Shawn Lane
ISBN 9781634865548
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
NOTE: This book was previously published by Amber Quill Press.
* * * *
Shayne, the hair is for you, my BFF.
* * * *
The Best Gift
By Shawn Lane
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Malcolm Rowland pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant where he was to meet his boyfriend, Jordan Castillo, for lunch. In the passenger seat next to him sat his best friend since forever, Dustin Jones.
At the moment, as Malcolm searched for a parking space not a billion miles from their destination, Dusty pretended to play the drums to the loud pounding rock music blaring from the radio.
“Yo, how about that one?” Dusty pointed, pausing only briefly in his performance.
Malcolm sped down the aisle, making sure to reach the precious space before some old lady snagged it who was taking her dog to be groomed at the groomer’s shop next store. He pulled in with a squeal of his tires and shut off the engine.
“Easy, dude, we’re not late or anything.” Dusty unsnapped his seat belt, opened the door, and unfurled his six foot something-or-other body out of Malcolm’s Mini Cooper.
Malcolm often thought the two of them looked ridiculous together. They’d been friends since they’d met in junior high school, and when Dustin had sprung up like a giant, well, Malcolm hadn’t. Malcolm was five-foot-five and maybe a half-inch. He always added that half-inch anyway.
“Jordan’s car is already here.”
Malcolm glanced at his watch. Despite what Dusty had said, they were ten minutes late. Which for them, probably, wasn’t late. Jordan would feel differently.
He rose up on the seat a little to check himself out in the rearview mirror, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.
“Come on, you’re gorgeous,” Dusty said, leaning into the car to peer at him.
Malcolm rolled his eyes and got out. He clicked the locks and hurried to follow the much quicker pace of his long-legged friend.
Besides being tall, Dustin was built pretty thin with just a hint of defined muscle. He had soft-looking curly strawberry-blond hair, baby blue eyes, and what women would call peaches-and-cream skin. He had sort of a pretty-boy look with a touch of country added in, laid back and good-natured. If you didn’t know him you’d think that was exactly what he was, but Malcolm knew he was much more of a badass than most people thought. Once or twice when they’d been confronted by some homophobes coming out of a bar or whatever, Dustin made short work of the punks.
Malcolm searched in the front pocket of his pants for the rubber band he’d slipped in there earlier. He pulled it out and wrapped it around his own mid-back length brown hair. They dashed through the double doors of the restaurant held open by a worker.
The restaurant, like most places in December, was heavily decked out with Christmas decorations. Green and red tinsel and garland abounded. Not too far from where the hostess stood waiting to seat guests hung a sprig of mistletoe.
A quick glance told him Jordan wasn’t waiting in the lobby area. He looked to the right. Dustin touched his arm.
“Over there.”
Malcolm glanced to the left and saw Jordan sitting at a table for four holding his phone. Seated next to him was his partner, Frank. Malcolm forgot his last name. Jordan only ever called him Frank. The two of them were homicide detectives.
They headed for the table and he sat on Jordan’s other side.
Jordan, who appeared to be typing an email message, looked up. “You’re late.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Only a little late,” Dusty spoke up.
“Late is late.” Jordan hit a button on his phone and then set it down. “Hello, Dustin. You remember meeting Frank? From the last time we had lunch?”
Dustin, who could turn almost painfully shy around strangers, turned a light shade of pink and ducked his head in the menu. “Sure. Hi.”
Frank, a good looking Asian man, smiled. “Hello. Hi, Malcolm.”
He opened his mouth to greet Frank.
“We already ordered,” Jordan announced, interrupting Malcolm. He folded his muscular arms across his chest, glowering at Malcolm. Jordan was twelve years older than Malcolm’s twenty-five. And for Malcolm it was his first serious relationship. Their year anniversary as a couple was only a week after Christmas. They’d become an official couple last year on New Year’s Eve.
Malcolm bit his lip. “You did?”
“Yeah, we have to get back to work, Malcolm.”
He looked away, his stomach twisting in embarrassment. He’d tried to make it on time, he really had. He raised his menu, unable to look at the others at the table. He was tempted to say, “maybe we shouldn’t have come at all,” but Jordan was already pissed at him.
A big, warm hand covered his. “Hey.”
He lowered his menu and stared into the ebony colored eyes of his lover. They were one of his favorite features. Jordan, a classically handsome Latino, had dark brown hair just a little longer than his ears, whiskey-brown eyes, a straight aquiline nose, high cheekbones, and full kissable lips.
“I’m sorry, querido,” Jordan said. “I’ve had a bad morning. I’m a bit grouchy.”
Malcolm smiled. “It’s okay. What did you order?”
“A Caesar salad with chicken. You want the same?”
“Yeah, except shrimp instead of the chicken.”
Jordan waved down the passing waitress. Besides his salad, Dusty ordered a burger and fries. They both ordered iced teas.
“So, is a case not going well?” he asked, sipping his tropical iced tea.
“You could say that,” Frank said. “A promising lead turned out to not be so promising.”
Jordan grimaced. “The case might go cold.”
Malcolm made what he hoped was a sympathetic face. Jordan never told him any details of his cases. Usually it was just vague talk like this. Which was fine with him. He didn’t want to hear about gruesome murders. There were times Jordan came home clearly affected by something going on in his job and Malcolm didn’t want to remind him of whatever it was anyway. He wanted Jordan to come home to relax and be with him and forget all the other stuff.
“How’s the writing going, Malcolm?” Frank asked, changing the subject.
“Good. Really good. My first book comes out
in a couple of months and I’m almost ready to submit the next one.” One of the greatest things about moving in with Jordan had been being able to quit his evil day job at a boring medical office so he could write full-time. He got various reactions when he admitted he was writing gay erotic romance, but he knew Jordan had already told Frank.
“That’s really cool, congratulations.”
“Yeah, thanks, when we’re done here I’m going to drop Dustin off for his job and then I’m going to go get some more work done.” He glanced at Jordan. “Oh, and do some cleaning.”
Jordan smirked. “I didn’t say a word.”
“I know, but you were going to.”
“Nope.”
Malcolm sighed. “I know I keep promising to clean the house. I will.”
“How about you, Dustin? What’s new with you?”
* * * *
Malcolm walked Jordan to his sedan after lunch. He’d given Dusty his keys to get into the car if he wanted. He noticed Frank stayed back, allowing the two of them to have a little privacy.
Not that they’d need it really. Jordan didn’t kiss him or hold his hand in public. He supposed he had an image to uphold as a detective and a macho Latino man. Malcolm didn’t necessarily want to openly make out in front of everyone anyway. He didn’t need homophobes hassling him.
“Do you forgive me for snapping at you before?” Jordan asked him.
Malcolm leaned back against the car, his arms crossed. He held his ponytail in his hand, tugging at it. He’d always had a tendency to mess with his hair. “Sure. I know you get stressed on the job. I really didn’t mean to be late.”
Jordan smiled a little. “You never mean it, but you always are. So you are going home after this?”
“I promised to take Dustin to work first. He’s having work done on his bike. Then, yeah, I’m hoping to get a few hours of work done. When will you be home?”
His lover shrugged. “Between six and seven unless something comes up.”
He nodded. “Okay, I’ll try to have dinner ready then. You want to get the Christmas tree tonight after dinner or something?”
Jordan’s eyes twinkled. “Definitely the something.”
He felt himself blush. “Um, I think we’re getting low on lube.”
“I guess you’d better stop at the store then, hmm?” Jordan’s thumb traced lightly over Malcolm’s top lip. Jordan’s other hand slipped a few strands of Malcolm’s hair through his fingers. He was both shocked and thrilled by the unexpected intimate gestures.
All he could do was nod like a bobble-head.
“All right, querido. See you later. And don’t get into any trouble.”
Malcolm straightened from the sedan and waved at Frank. “I won’t.”
He made his way back to his car. Dustin already sat in the passenger seat, his head resting on the seat, his eyes closed. His friend’s cheeks were slightly pink as though dusted with blush. He couldn’t help smiling at the sight. Dusty really was adorable. Whenever they went out, men flocked to his friend within seconds of arriving. The man never had to buy his own drinks.
He opened the driver door. Dustin opened one blue eye.
“You okay? You look really tired,” Malcolm asked.
Dustin shrugged, opened both eyes, and straightened in his seat. “Just up later than I should have been.”
Malcolm started the car. “You seeing Bobby still?”
“Nah.” Dusty looked out the window. “I wasn’t out with a guy.”
“Then?”
“Well, I’m sort of taking some classes.”
“Really? Cool. What are you taking?”
“Malcolm.” Dustin sighed.
“What?”
“I’m taking like cooking classes, okay?”
He laughed. “That’s awesome. Why are you embarrassed? Are you talking like chef school or something?”
Dustin bit his lip. “Maybe. Eventually. Right now I’m just taking some classes at the community college. If I don’t do really badly there, then, yeah, maybe.”
Malcolm smiled. “That’s super cool, Dusty. You’ll have to cook for me.”
Dusty smiled back, just showing a hint of his straight white teeth. “Yeah? I’d like to.”
“And Jordan, of course. He’d love to have someone cook for him other than me.”
“Uh, of course.” Dustin looked out the window again.
* * * *
“You need me to come and get you after your shift?” Malcolm asked him as he stopped in front of the seafood restaurant where Dustin worked as a waiter.
Dusty wished he could skip working today. He just didn’t feel like it. “You don’t have to. I’ll find a way home. Someone from here or the bus, maybe.”
“Don’t even think about that. I’m not going to just leave you stranded. Call me when you’re close to being ready.”
“Okay.” He nodded and opened the car door and got out. “Have a good night with Jordan.”
Malcolm waved. “I will. See you later.”
Dusty watched him drive away and then turned to go into work. He ignored the gold and silver Christmas bells hanging in the doorway and walked straight to the back and punched in his time card.
“Why haven’t you told him how you feel?”
With a grimace, Dustin turned to face his friend and co-worker, Mark. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grabbed his black apron and tied it around his waist. Being Christmas, the restaurant manager made them pin stupid looking candy cane pins on one side of their aprons and a cheesy Santa Claus that had the words Ho Ho Ho written across it on the other side.
Mark, a good looking African American man who’d become his friend instantly when they started waiting at the restaurant on the same day, folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall.
“You know. It’s obvious to everyone but Malcolm that you’re in love with him.”
“I am not. And anyway, he has a boyfriend. For like a year.”
“That’s because you waited too long. You’ve been hung up on him for what?” Mark straightened from the wall. “When did you say you guys met?”
“Junior high.”
“You’ve had the hots for him since then, haven’t you?” Mark blocked the way into the main part of the restaurant.
Dustin pushed Mark out of his way. “Get real. We’re just friends.”
But Mark followed him. “You’re letting opportunity pass you by.”
“Dude, there is no opportunity. Malcolm has a boyfriend. A cop. They live together. I don’t cheat and I don’t break up anyone’s happy home.”
“Okay, then what about you?”
Dusty stopped by the main cash register and turned to stare at him. “What about me?”
“You’re no longer seeing Bobby right?” Mark persisted.
“Right. I had an issue with him snorting all his money up his nose. Your point?”
“Let Vanessa set you up with her friend from work like she’s been wanting.”
Vanessa was Mark’s wife. He’d been to their house a few times and Vanessa insisted she had the perfect guy for Dustin. He’d always changed the subject when she brought the guy up.
Mark put a hand on his shoulder. “Look, if there really can be nothing between you and Malcolm, isn’t it time to move on?”
Even as the word formed on his tongue, he knew he would regret it. “Okay.”
Mark grinned. “Cool. Ness will be thrilled.”
Dustin rolled his eyes and went to wait on his first table.
On his break, he called Malcolm. He’d had a message on his cell phone since they weren’t allowed to take calls while working.
“Hey, you called?”
“Oh, hi,” Malcolm said. “Yeah. What time do you get off?”
“You don’t have to come. I can probably get Mark to take me home.”
“Well, as it happens, Jordan called earlier and said he wouldn’t be home for dinner after all, so I thought I might come down there before
your shift ends and hang for a bit.”
“Okay. The restaurant closes at ten so depending on my last customers, sometime after that.”
“Great. I’ll come down there in a few. I’m kind of hungry anyway. I didn’t bother to cook for just me. See you later.”
Dustin hit the off button on his phone and returned his cell to his back pocket. When he got back on the floor, his boss told him two customers had just been seated at one of his assigned tables. He grabbed his pad and walked down the aisle.
He stopped, staring. At the table was Jordan Castillo and across from him was a strange man. For a moment, Dustin told himself it could be business. Cops still had to eat. But while he stood there, Jordan very clearly rubbed his thumb along the back of the other man’s hand before picking up his menu.
“Oh, hell,” Dustin muttered.
Chapter 2
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” he muttered.
“Ask them for their order,” Mark said, coming up behind him. He frowned. “What’s the matter?”
Dustin grabbed Mark’s arm and pulled him around the corner out of the sight of Jordan and the man sitting with him. “You have to take table twenty.”
“Why?”
“Because the guy sitting there is Jordan, Malcolm’s boyfriend.”
“So? I know you don’t like him, but is he such an ass you can’t wait on him?”
“He’s here with a guy, Mark.”
Mark shrugged. “Yeah?”
Dustin ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “As in a guy, Mark.”
“Oh, wait, you mean he’s cheating on Malcolm?”
“Yes.”
Mark peeked around the corner at the table. “Well, shit, but someone has to go and take their order. They’re looking around.”
“You do it,” Dustin insisted. “I’ll take number seven from you.”
“Fine.” Mark sighed and walked toward the table, order pad in hand.
He let out a relieved breath, but then he remembered Malcolm would be showing up at the restaurant anytime. He didn’t live that far.
“Ah shit, shit, shit.”
The problem was he didn’t care about Jordan being found out as the cheating bastard he clearly was; in fact, he’d probably have to tell Malcolm what he saw anyway. He’d want to know if it were him, but he hated Malcolm being hurt. And before Christmas for pity’s sake.
