by K. C. Wells
He went through a mental checklist, trying to work out which meetings could be postponed until later in the week, rescheduling with his PA—who’d have to get used to Xavier’s weird hours if she was going to last—and… yes, he could just about do it.
“I’ll be there,” he promised.
“With a gift,” Kyle reminded him.
Xavier bit back a sigh. If he’d had his PA already hired and trained, all of this would have been on his calendar and the gift would already have been purchased. “With a gift,” he parroted.
Which had brought him to be huddled in the doorway of that little hole-in-the-wall, blink-and-you’d-miss-it bookshop. Earlier in the week, he’d driven by and seen the man in the window, putting together a stunning display for Pride. Xavier was sure to find something suitable in this shop—provided it was still open by the time he got there. Of course, given his overloaded schedule, the store was dark when he reached it. Light filtered through the windows above, so he knew there had to be someone still around. The chances of getting them to come down and open the shop were pretty slim, but he had to try. Kyle had been his best friend since university, and to disappoint him again was unacceptable. Maybe that was why he’d ended up thumping against the door, careful to avoid the glass. What kind of shop doesn’t have a doorbell? But when a light flickered on inside the shop, Xavier shoved aside such irritations. Come on. Let me in, and I’ll make it worth your while.
When the door opened, Xavier blinked several times. The man was about five feet ten, with beautiful green eyes and black hair that lay in gentle waves across his head. His beard was nearly as full as Xavier’s, and meticulously trimmed, with a thick mustache beneath that long, slim nose. But what really caught Xavier’s attention was the fact that the man was trembling. “Can I… help you… uh… sir?” There was even a tremor to his voice.
Now was definitely not the time to be ogling the man, especially since Xavier needed his help. But the way sir tripped off his lips…. Xavier really liked that.
He pulled himself upright and gave the man a reassuring smile. “First off, please forgive me. I’d hoped to make it back here before you closed, but… well, obviously I didn’t. I need help. My friend’s birthday is tomorrow, and I need a gift.”
“Well, we do open at eight in the morning,” the man said, frowning.
Xavier really wanted to make the owner understand how important this was, and he wasn’t above pouting a little, if it got him his way. “I wish I could, but I’m going to be in meetings most of the day. I could ask someone to pick up something for me, but I kind of promised him it would be a special present.” When the man’s expression showed no sign of change, Xavier let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I know you’re closed, and I know you probably wanted to enjoy the rest of your night, but if you could please see your way clear to helping me out…?”
Xavier left the remainder of the sentence unspoken. Either the man would or wouldn’t.
When the guy bit his pale pink lip, it was one of the most adorable things Xavier had ever seen. But what came to mind was an image of him naked, lips puffy from kissing, slowly impaling himself on Xavier’s dick….
Apparently it had been quite a while since Xavier had gotten laid. Too long, in fact. He stifled a groan and sent a silent message to his cock to behave itself.
The man’s sigh echoed his. “Okay, but I really don’t have a lot of time. I need to get some sleep. I’ve got a lot to do in the morning.”
Warmth rushed through Xavier. Thank God, a man with a heart. “Thank you. You’ve saved my life. Probably literally. I promise, I’ll be no more than fifteen minutes.” He held out a hand. “I’m Xavier, by the way. The man who owes you his life.”
“Heath Snow,” the man replied with a shy smile as he took Xavier’s hand in his. “Come on in. Let’s see if we can find something for your friend that will fit the bill.”
The first thing Xavier noticed when he stepped through the door was the shop’s interior was much larger than it had appeared from the outside. Every available inch of space had been used in creative ways. The far corner of the room had a forest-green carpet with a starburst pattern, and atop it sat a circle of chairs, each a shade of the rainbow, surrounding a large, low table strewn with upside-down coffee cups. There was a podium behind the front window, on which sat an old-fashioned cash register, and the walls were lined with a mismatch of shelves, some metal, some wood. The rest of the floor was wood, a warm color that gave the place life. If Xavier had to choose a word to describe the shop, it would be kitschy.
“I love the design. Did you do it yourself?”
Heath’s cheeks pinked as he glanced around the shop with obvious pride. “Yes, thanks. I went around to some bookshop before I opened, and they seemed fairly sterile. I wanted this place to be different. Warm, inviting.” He waved a hand in the direction of the chairs. “There are readings every so often, and a book club meets here once a week. There’s a coffee maker in the back, but it’s off for the night. I could make some if you’d like, but it might take a bit of time.”
Xavier shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I did make you a promise to be in and out in fifteen minutes.” Still, he loved how animated Heath got as he pointed out features of the shop. It was obvious the man loved it and had invested a small fortune in getting it to look this way. Xavier stared at the table covered with neat piles of books. “I have to admit, it makes a pleasant change to find a place like this. What with e-books and things, I figured bookshops were going the way of the dinosaurs.”
Heath shrugged. “A lot of people like having a real book in their hand. They like the smell of the pages, its weight as they hold it. Plus, it’s easier to fit a book into a pocket. A Kindle or iPad tends to be less forgiving if you try to bend it.” He laughed at his own joke, then blushed.
The unassuming peal of laughter fit Heath perfectly, and Xavier wanted to know more about him. With a great effort, he pulled himself back into the moment. “Right. Let me get to finding a book so you can get some sleep. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
Another cute shrug. “It’s no problem, really. I tend to think customer service is a rare commodity these days, and if I can help someone out, I’ll do my best. What kind of book does your friend like?”
Xavier considered the question. “Something with a lot of pictures.” When Heath bit back a smile, Xavier rolled his eyes. “He’s got a collection of coffee table books that would probably fill most of your shelves. Lots of photos of men, but… artistic. I mean, we’re not talking porn, okay? Some of the books date back to the early thirties. He’s always been fascinated by things like that. Of course, he’s a tattoo artist, so he loves the visual element.”
Heath tilted his head to one side. “Photos of men?” He brightened. “Oh, I think I might have the perfect gift for him.” He bounced on his heels, and Xavier found his obvious excitement contagious. Heath hurried to the shelves and ran his finger along the spines of the books. When he found the one he was searching for, he let out a whoop. “Eureka!”
He rushed back to where Xavier stood, and placed the book on the desk by the cash register. On the front was The Invisibles: Vintage Portraits of Love and Pride by Sébastien Lifshitz. He opened the pages and pointed at a few images. “These were pictures that they culled from garage sales and the like. Early snapshots of gay history that might have been lost, if not for the author.”
As Heath flipped through a few more pages, Xavier knew instantly this was indeed the perfect gift for Kyle. The artistry was gorgeous, and the black-and-white photos were a stark reminder of the lives people lived in years gone by.
“I’ll take it. Can you wrap it for me?”
“Of course, sir. I’d be happy to.”
Xavier felt a tingle run along his spine at Heath’s words. He loved it when people called him Sir, but from Heath’s lips, it sounded more like a promise. Heath deftly wrapped the book in a translucent light blue paper, which captured the light
s of the store.
“How much do I owe you?”
Heath’s fingers danced over the till, and then he looked up. “Twenty-two pounds.”
Xavier frowned. The book was much cheaper than he thought. It certainly wasn’t worth Heath giving up sleep for it. “Do you have gift cards too?”
“We do. What would you like?”
Well, I did promise Kyle a present. “How about you add a hundred-pound gift card on top of that? That should make for a stellar present.”
Xavier could have laughed when Heath’s eyes bugged out. “A hundred…. Are you sure? I mean, please don’t think I’m trying to dissuade you, but—”
Xavier chuckled. “I can’t recall the last time someone tried to talk me out of a purchase.”
Heath’s eyes grew larger. “No, I wasn’t… I mean, I don’t….” He sighed and his chin dropped. “You must think me a fool. I’m not trying to talk you out of it, honestly. It’s just… I never want a customer to be unhappy with something they got from me. This shop is my life, and I want everyone who walks through the door to know I’ll do whatever I can to make them happy.”
Warmth bloomed in Xavier’s chest as he noted Heath’s earnest expression. If it meant a chance to see it on Heath’s face again, he’d gladly have added to his purchases. But Xavier wasn’t interested in buying affection. He could go to the club and be fawned over by the subs there. Still, there was something about Heath that put a knot in Xavier’s stomach. He’d rarely seen someone so willing to please. And for a brief moment, he wondered how far that willingness would extend.
There’s something about you, Heath Snow….
Xavier reined in his interest and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t tease you. Yes, I’m certain about the card. I very much appreciate you doing this. You’re a lifesaver.”
A flush crawled up Heath’s neck. “You’re welcome, Mr.… I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your last name.”
“James. Xavier James. But please, call me Xavier.”
He could think of a few more things he’d like Heath to call him—not to mention the specific circumstances in which to hear them. Xavier shook his head to clear that image from his mind. He’d never been one to let a pretty face sway him, but Heath?
I am so swayed.
“Let me pay for this as fast as I can, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
Heath gave a shy smile. “Oh, you’re not… I mean, if you want, you can look around.”
It took a supreme effort to not reach out and cup Heath’s cheek. “No, you need your sleep. And I have to get home so I can go in for early meetings. But I’ll definitely be back. I like this store very much.”
A flush crawled up Heath’s neck, spreading slowly over his face. “Thank you,” he whispered, looking down at the book in his hand.
Heath was simply too adorable for words.
Xavier tugged his attention away from Heath and glanced at the counter next to the cash register. A solitary book lay there, and its provocative cover caught Xavier’s eye: two men in period costume, one standing with a crop in his hand, the other kneeling before him, head bowed. It was obviously a BDSM title, and Xavier’s pulse quickened.
Then he noticed the state of the book. Judging by the highly creased spine, and the state of the pages, the book had been read many times.
Well, well, well….
He couldn’t resist. “That looks like it would be interesting reading.”
Heath jerked his head up, his face ablaze. He swallowed hard and his eyes widened. “I… I… I….” Heath snatched the book away and slid it beneath the counter. “It’s… for a customer.”
Xavier grinned. “I see.” At least, he hoped to God he did see. It seemed too much to hope for—Heath’s demeanor, his interest in the lifestyle…. And if he was willing to explore it within the confines of a book, might he be willing to take it a step further? The things I could show you, the places I could take you…. Real life was better than any book, no matter how well written.
Xavier made a quick decision. “Do you have a paper and pen?”
“Sure.” Heath opened a drawer and pulled out the requested items, then placed them on the counter.
Xavier quickly scribbled down the address for the club before he could change his mind. “My friend, the one I’m buying the present for, is having a small party tomorrow at this address. I thought maybe you might want to join us. It would be a fun evening.” Xavier’s heartbeat was racing at the thought.
Heath’s smile fell. “Oh. There’s only me, so I’m here from open to close, I’m afraid. And that can be as late as seven or eight, depending on customers.”
Xavier frowned. “Couldn’t you close early? I’d love for you to come.” And if I’ve read him all wrong, then I’m going to have some explaining to do. Xavier was willing to risk being embarrassed. He decided to play the guilt card again. It wasn’t fair, but if Heath did find the lifestyle interesting, then why shouldn’t he have the opportunity to explore it? “It would mean a lot to me. If you can’t close early, that shouldn’t be a problem. The party will probably go on until quite late. You could come after you’ve closed for the night.”
“Well….” Heath glanced around the store. “I guess I could try.”
Xavier put a hand on Heath’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “I hope you can make it.” He picked up the pen again and scribbled his work and home numbers down. “If you need anything, or if your plans change, you can reach me at one of these.” He held out the paper, his shaking hand the only indication of how badly he wanted this.
Heath’s eyes widened as he slipped the paper into his pocket. “Here you go.” He held out the bag containing the book and the gift card. Their fingers brushed, and Heath sucked in a breath.
“And you will think about the party?”
Heath smiled. “I’m making no promises… but I will try.”
“I can’t ask for more than that, can I? Good night, and thank you again.” Xavier opened the door and stepped back out into the night. The rain had finally stopped, so he turned down the collar of his jacket, then glanced back and noticed Heath watching him through the glass. Xavier raised his hand, and Heath hesitantly returned the wave, appearing a little startled by the gesture.
Xavier headed back to his car, warmth spreading through his body. He couldn’t wait for the party.
Because he’ll be there. He has to be.
Chapter Three
CHIME. CHIME. Chime. Chime.
Heath groaned as he reached out from under the sheet to thump the alarm clock. Six thirty already? As always, there was that little internal voice, the silky one that said, Forget the shop. Stay in bed and read.
One of these days, he’d actually listen to it and follow its suggestion.
Except he knew it would never happen. It was just a pleasant dream.
Reality was something entirely different. The bookshop was his life, and if he wasn’t ready to open at nine, he risked losing out on customers. And even if his last-minute customer—Xavier, he recalled, a flush of heat crawling through him—had purchased the largest gift card Wordsmith’s had ever sold, it was a small drop in a very large ocean. Heath still needed to make as much money as he could. The building mortgage was held by the bank, and if he had any hopes of getting out from under that debt before he was old enough to retire, he had to banish that silky, seductive inner voice, get up, and start his day.
As he set up the coffee machine, he noted his dinner from the night before, still sitting on the counter, and frowned. I didn’t eat after Xavier left. Not that it was a surprise to him. That invite to Xavier’s friend’s party had left him with his head in a whirl. It was so… surreal. What kind of person invites someone they don’t know to join them at a private affair? Heath hadn’t even asked what he should wear.
Wait—that sounds like I’m considering turning up. Then he smiled. Why the hell not? The idea sent yet more heat surging through him, but Heath put it down to th
e warmth of the day. One glance at the thermometer attached to his window told him it was already warming up out there. Flaming June strikes again.
Party clothes would have to wait. He threw the pie into the dustbin, then went into the bathroom for a quick shower. The water heater, an ancient thing, could barely hold it together long enough for a five-minute spray of lukewarm water. It was on his list of things to get fixed, and he’d saved up about half of what he needed for a new one, but it wasn’t his highest priority. For now, that honor went to advertising and to coming up with ways to make new inroads to LGBT groups to raise his standing in the community. While Wordsmith had books for everyone, Heath really wanted to be a part of something bigger.
The tepid water helped to wake Heath up a little. By the time he was dried and dressed, his toast eaten and his first cup of coffee drunk, he felt almost human again. He ran through his checklist of things to be done before he opened. Today was a big day, and everything had to be just right.
He headed down to the shop, flipping the switch on the big stainless-steel urn as he passed by so it could heat. Once that was started, Heath dusted and polished the shelves, vacuumed where there was carpet, then swept the remaining hardwood floor. When that was done, he adjusted the chairs so they were in order by color of the rainbow, then set up the pots of regular and decaf coffee, ensuring he had cans of soft drinks and pitchers of water at the ready. When someone knocked, Heath glanced at the clock, surprised to see it was already after eight. He rushed to the door and flung it open.
“Good morning, Mr. Snow!”
A rush of hot, humid air blew past Heath, and he groaned. Weather like this would mean he’d have to crank up the air conditioner. “Hi, Dave. Sorry I didn’t have the door open—I hadn’t realized how late it was.”
Dave stepped through the door so Heath could close it, then held up a box. “It’s not a problem. I’ve got your order of two dozen assorted pastries.” He grinned. “That I slogged all the way here to deliver.”
