A Totally Bound Publication
On the Green
ISBN # 978-1-78430-186-6
©Copyright Nicole Dennis 2014
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright August 2014
Edited by Sarah Smeaton
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination
and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or
places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form,
whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of
the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound
Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil
proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs
and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator
of the artwork.
Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road,
Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This
story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 2.
Southern Charm
ON THE GREEN
Nicole Dennis
Book three in the Southern Charm series
Can a flashy sous chef and a hard-working landscaper go beyond their pasts and find one another?
Homeless as a teen, Malcolm Bissette has found a new life at the Southern Charm.
Flamboyant, he often changes his hair color on a whim. At sixteen, he crushed hard on the
landscaper Reece Simpson.
Now all grown up, Malcom still has a crush on Reece, but there appears to be no
reciprocation from him. Malcolm watches him at work every day from the kitchen, but lets
the crush disappear. He vows to forget the man—that is, until Reece changes the entire game.
Waiting for years to get his hands on the vast overgrowth around the Charm, Reece Simpson
dives into the project with enthusiasm. Preferring plants to people, he sticks to just brief
moments with men. There is one man he would consider staying beyond a moment with,
though—the flashy, colorful sous chef at the Southern Delights. Realizing his feelings, Reece
is knocked off his feet by a wave of emotions. Is he in time to catch this flirty chef?
What would it be like to have Mal in bed? Would it make the summer afternoons even
steamier? Is there a chance for love for both of them? Could they entertain the idea of a life
together like their friends?
Dedication
To those who asked for Malcolm’s story. Here you go.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Cherokee: Chrysler Group LLC
Jeep: Chrysler Group LLC
Sharpie: Newell Rubbermaid Inc.
Bluetooth: Bluetooth Special Interest Group
Firefly: Twentieth Television, Inc.
Smurf: Peyo/Dupuis
iPhone: Apple, Inc.
Red Bull: Red Bull GmbH
Let There Be Love (Christina Aguilera): Max Martin, Shellback, Savan Kotecha, Bonnie McKee,
Oliver Goldstein, Oscar Holter, Jakke Erixson
Sam Adams: Boston Beer Company (Samuel Adams)
Tigger: A.A. Milne
Robin Hood: Men in Tights: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
YouTube: Google, Inc.
Sunset Boulevard: Paramount Pictures Corporation
Febreeze: Procter & Gamble Co.
James Bond: Ian Fleming
Ben & Jerry’s: Unilever N.V. Unilever PLC
50 First Dates: Happy Madison Productions/Flower Films, Inc/Columbia Pictures Industries,
Inc.
Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark: Paramount Pictures Corporation
Blu-ray: Blu-ray Disc Association
Lysol: Reckitt Benckiser plc
ON THE GREEN
6
Chapter One
Mid-Summer, Georgia
Standing on one of the higher hills overlooking the brand new luxury golf course he
was creating with a pro-golfer, Reece Simpson tugged on his ball-cap and unfurled the plans
to check on the situation for hole eleven and the three damn bunkers the golfer insisted on
creating around the bends. After tugging out the walkie-talkie from his belt, Reece hit the
button to connect to the supervisor on site.
“This is Sal,” the man said.
“Sal, extend the damn bunker another two feet to the right and four feet deep. Make
sure to get those river birch and saw-tooth oak grouped tight together. I want them growing
throughout the right turn and to hide the bunker and hill to the green.”
“No problem. Do you want the cypress to go on the left?”
“In a row, I want them ten feet from the edge of the green.”
“Got it.”
Reece hooked the radio on his belt. He checked his phone, which had been suspiciously
quiet throughout his stay here. He wasn’t sure if it was his location or the service. Either way,
he needed to get in touch with the office.
“Afternoon, Reece. How is our top notch course coming along?”
Hearing the owner of the hotel and golf course calling to him, Reece rolled the plans
back then clenched his fist as he faced the man. “There are things we need to discuss. You
need to get a handle on your damn golf pro.”
“Why? I thought he was helping you.”
“He’s hampering what little progress I’ve made,” Reece said and shoved a hand
through his hair. “If your damn golfer stopped changing his mind, things would be further
along. Right now, he’s made twelve changes since the original plans were finished and
approved. I cut him off this morning when he pointed out additional alterations. They’re not
in the schedule.”
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7
“He’s a player and designer and sees things in a different way. Could we incorporate
his additions?”
“Not if you want to open the course in September. I’m lengthening the bunker on
eleven, which means I have to move the trees. Every change requires multiple issues and
alterations he doesn’t see. I’m sorry, but I cut it off.”
“Understandable. Are we on target for the Labor Day opening?”
“The trees won’t be full size for a couple of years, but you’ll have the look you want for
the course and hotel grounds. We got the shipment of Italian cypresses you want to line the
entrance and they’ll go in today. We’ll lay the grass next week on the remaining holes.
They’ll need continuous water until they’re secure. A company will come in and trim
everything to length the weekend before opening day if we stay on schedule.”
“Good. Good. I love those slender cypresses and it’ll incorporate nicely with the Tuscan
feeling of the hotel’s structure.”
“Hmm. They are a good match to the hotel. I added in the scarlet maples you requested.
They’ll give you a bright red color to contrast with the golden Norway maples.”
“Excellent. Shall we move to the gardens?”
Reece hit the button on his walkie-talkie twice in rapid succession to alert Sal that he
was moving to the gardens. He got a triple beep in acknowledgment. He followed the rotund
man to the extraordinary Tuscan-inspired lawn. To stay with the inspiration, Reece had
chosen multiple plants found within Tuscany and able to grow in the climate. It had ended
up being one of his favorite designs.
“What are we doing around here?”
“All of the colors will be the earth-tone and natural ones in shades of olive, moss,
tangerine mist, sunset, peach, terracotta and lavender. The stones are native to Georgia along
with travertine and decomposed granite. We’re keeping the same palette.” Reece directed
their attention to the far end. “We’ll create several wall and free-standing fountains for the
water features. The extended patio will be finished in the travertine and ionic columns. My
designer will choose old-fashioned iron hinges and armillary works along with typical
statues.” Reece pointed out the areas. “In the opposite corners, you’re going to have two fire
features along with outdoor seating in coordinating woods and fabrics. This is one of my
favorite designs, top of my personal list.”
ON THE GREEN
8
“Good to know, it means everyone else will enjoy it. What about plants?”
“I’m adding bay trees, lemon and olive trees in smaller containers, and old knobby
grape vines will follow the entire patio and arches, and will weave around all the beams. The
planters will have a variety of thyme, rosemary, lavender and multiple varieties of sage. It’ll
be an eclectic touch your kitchens can use for their dishes.” Moving through the area, he
gestured to the other forms. “Those will be stone planters to create the feeling of an old
garden. When it’s done, you’ll have walkways, comforting benches and tables to invite
folks.”
“Damn, this sounds perfect.” The man pounded a hand on Reece’s back, forcing him to
take a balancing step.
“I’m doing what you asked for, sir.”
“You’re going above and beyond what I asked for and I knew hiring out of state would
do wonders. You came highly recommended, son, and I’ll pass on the praises to others.”
“Appreciate it, sir. It’s been a pleasure working here. You hired a good horticulture staff
to take care of the entire grounds. I can leave them in charge when we have the plants
situated in the ground. You have my guarantee if anything dies within six months of
planting, I’ll send someone to investigate for the problems and replant or replace.”
“Understand. I understand and gave a copy to my head grounds keeper to sign and
keep for his records.”
“Good to know. I should do the same with all clients.”
“Happy to see progress. Are you staying on until all is planted?”
“I can’t. I need to return to a project in Louisiana and another in Mississippi before I
head back to Florida. Sal and Clayton are top-notch. They’ll handle the final builds and
plantings. Again, there can be no more changes from the golfer, no matter how much he
whines and complains.”
The rotund man laughed and held a hand up. “I promise, Reece, no more changes. I’ll
have a word with him to calm down and back off. Will I see you back for the opening?”
“If I’m able, it would be a pleasure to attend the opening.”
“Are you signed up for a tee time?”
“No, sir, I’ve not had a chance to play or learn the game.”
“Now, dear boy, you need to relax.”
Nicole Dennis
9
Far too happy to have his hands in the dirt, Reece shook his head with a smile. As a
child, it had been safer for him to be out in the garden, attending to the plants. He didn’t
want to be around his father’s drinking and his mother’s babying of his younger siblings. He
held back a shudder of the unbidden memory. “I prefer to dig in the dirt than hit a white ball
across the grass. I’m sorry, I never had an interest in the game. I hope you’ll enjoy the
finished course.”
“Not everyone likes the game. You either love it or hate it.”
After they’d shaken hands, Reece walked off to find Clayton and sign off on final
paperwork, details and designs. They discussed any lingering issues or concerns before he
handed the project to Clayton. After getting in the abysmal golf cart, he drove it off to the far
holes where Sal dealt with the annoying bunkers to pass on the information. Satisfied that the
hotel, grounds and course were in good hands, Reece returned to the hotel to pack and get
ready for his flight to Louisiana. He relished the idea of a few moments to relax and take a
nap during the flight or within the airport to energize for the next project.
* * * *
By late afternoon, Reece had made it through the infernal security lines and located his
gate within the busy Atlanta airport. He checked the boards for his flight status and pulled
out his cell phone to see if he had time for lunch. Instead, he saw a no service message.
“Okay. The problem isn’t with my phone, but the carrier. Great. What the hell is
happening?”
Looking around, he located a bank of payphones and dug in his wallet for the
emergency calling card he’d never thought he would use. After a flip through the phone
book, amazed that it was even there, he found the number for his service.
It took a frustrating combination of lengthy wait time and various customer service
people until he connected to someone who could help him. He learned that there was a non-
payment stop on his account and that his cell had been turned off. Unable to figure out why
his office manager, Sharon, wouldn’t pay the bill, he put the payment on a credit card. It took
more time to go through the confirmation process and reconnect his services.
ON THE GREEN
10
Moving to a chair, he sat and went through the messages. Some were curious about his
silence. Others became more irate over time and delay.
As he moved through the messages, his phone rang.
“Oh, sure, now you work for me?” he grumbled and swiped the screen. “Southern
Haven Landscape and Design, this is Reece Simpson. How can I assist you?”
“Simpson, where the devil have you been? I’ve been calling for weeks. This is Davis
Klower of DK Dirt,” Davis snapped. “I’m not sending any more trucks until my back
invoices are caught up. You’re one of my finest clients, but I’m ready to drop you for non-
payment and put a lien on your ass. What the hell is happening in your office? I’m not going
to let this non-payment continue.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Hold on, Davis, and talk to me please. I’ve been out of state for the last
few months.”
“Haven’t you checked your messages? I haven’t heard from Sharon and she’s always
reliable with payments.”
“There was some trouble with my cell phone and service. I only just figured out the
issue. Now, I’m sure Sharon would know if anything is wrong with your account. What do
you mean you haven’t heard from her?”
“She hasn’t answered a single call. No one answers at your office. Your cell phone kept
going to voicemail.”
Leaning forward, rubbing the bridge of his nose, Reece figured that whatever had
happened with the DK account was also why his phone had been shut off. “I’ll determine
what happened and resolve it, Davis.”
“I’ll give you a week.”
“I’ll take it and contact you with an update.”
“One week, Simpson, or our business relationship is finished.”
“I understand, sir.”
When he hung up, Reece knew he couldn’t go to Louisiana. He needed to return to
Florida and see what was happening. He gathered his carry-on bag then rushed to the
customer service desk to change his flight to the Pensacola airport, the closest one to his
home in Shore Breeze. At the same time, he dialed the main office number and it rang
Nicole Dennis
11
straight through to the voicemail. Frustrated, he dialed his manager’s personal number. He
thanked whatever gods when the call went through.
“This is Sharon,” a woman said.
“Sharon, it’s Reece. What’s happening at the office?”
“Reece, where have you been?”
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Reece groaned with the growing frustration. “My phone
was shut off for most of the job because of an annoying pain-in-the-ass designer on my ass
the entire time. I didn’t realize it was cut off for non-payment.”
“What?”
“I got a notice of non-payment. Why is nothing being paid?”
“Okay. Okay. I need you to calm down, Reece. Please,” Sharon said. “You knew I was
pregnant before you left.”
“Yeah, but… Wait. Why am I hearing a baby’s cry? I thought you weren’t due until I
returned from Louisiana.”
“That’s how you figure out the timing?”
“Hey, I’m a gay male.”
“The baby came premature and I took early leave to stay with her in the NICU and at
home.”
“Shit. Umm. Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
“Yes, we’re all fine, just a little scared about the way things occurred with her birth.”
“Good to know, but, Sharon, something is transpiring at the office. I need to get this
figured out.”
“I haven’t been to the office since she arrived. What is happening?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t received a damn email, voicemail or anything until I left the
resort. There must have been a dead zone owing to the construction, I think they were
waiting for a new cell tower.”
“Perhaps something transpired with the invoice payment. What else did the company
say when you called?”
“I made the payment with my credit card. Luckily, it went through and I’m back online,
but this can’t happen again.” Reece shoved a hand through his dark hair. “Look, I’m lost on
everything. I got a call from DK Dirt and he hasn’t received a payment.”
ON THE GREEN
12
“Impossible, I left the office with a capable temp from a respectable company to take
care of things the last few months. Her name is Trixie Wiggins with Pensacola Temp Hire.”
“Trixie? What the…? Tell me now.”
“I hired and trained a capable temp to look after things. I didn’t expect to be out for so
long, but the baby came early and I couldn’t leave the NICU. Trixie knew how to handle
everything. If she didn’t, I left a detailed manual and my cell number. She never called
saying there was trouble.”
“Nothing is paid. How could she be handling anything if I’m losing my phone service
and a client is screaming at me? Who is signing off on the checks?”
“I have everything handled through our account manager at the bank. I gave him an
official letter on our letterhead where she would send him the invoices and he would have
the checks written, signed, and sent from the bank. The same with the deposits—she would
give him the checks and he would handle the deposits. I didn’t want a temp to sign or
deposit anything with our bank.”
“There’s a problem somewhere, either with this temp or at the bank.”
“Where are you?”
“The Atlanta airport. I’m heading to the desk to change my flight to Pensacola.”
“Do you want me to go to the office?”
“No. No. Stay with the baby. This is a problem I’ll handle.”
“Perhaps hire a second office manager instead of a temp, Reece, the office is busy
enough to warrant a second pair of hands. I can’t handle everything, especially if you’re
going to be out on site for months at a time.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, Reece, I believed the temp was getting everything done. I
concentrated on my daughter. I didn’t keep in touch.”
“No. No. It’s my fault for leaving everything in your hands and not taking control when
I needed. I’ll figure out another procedure or something from now on to plug these holes.
Thanks, Sharon, and congratulations again on the baby.” Reece hung up and banged his
forehead on the desk at the customer service center.
“Can I help you, sir?” the pretty lady behind the desk asked.
Nicole Dennis
13
Tugging out his confirmed ticket, he pushed it, his ID and a platinum credit card over
to her. “I hope so. I need to change my flight from New Orleans to Pensacola. The earliest
possible, if you can, and have my luggage transferred.”
“Let me see what I can do, sir.” The lady took his ticket and cards and tapped away on
the keyboard. “Okay. You were on a two fifty-five p.m. non-stop flight to New Orleans in
first class with two check-in bags. You’re a premium frequent flyer with us, Mr Simpson.”
“Yes and I need to change everything to Pensacola.”
“Do you want both the non-stop and first class?”
“If possible.”
“Okay. Let me see what’s available.” There was more tapping noise as she searched the
database for a flight. “The earliest is a three o’clock non-stop to Pensacola with a first-class
seat. There is a fee for the change.”
“I’ll take it. Will my bags be on the new flight?”
“I’ll make sure to send the alert to baggage for the change. I will waive the charge for
the bags since you’re a frequent flyer.”
“Appreciate it,” Reece said.
When the lady had finished changing everything, she passed back his cards and gave
him a new receipt. After he’d signed everything, she changed the boarding pass for the new
flight.
“Okay. You need to head to a different gate and everything is done.” She crossed off the
original gate and wrote the new one. She leaned over and pointed out the direction for the
new gate. “When you get there, please check with the attendants to confirm the change. If
there’s any trouble, either return here or go to another customer service counter.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome. Have a good flight, sir, and thank you for flying with us,”
she said.
Taking the ticket holder, he looped the padded strap of his messenger bag across his
body. He wove through the crowds to find his new gate. He stood in line for a few minutes
then spoke with one of the attendants to make sure the change had happened. Reece let out a
sigh of relief. He headed to a different restaurant and ordered lunch. He pulled out his tablet
ON THE GREEN
14
and logged into his office PC. Opening the accounting program, he looked through and saw
no journal entries made to reflect invoices, payments or receipts.
“What the hell…?” He dialed the office number again, but sent directly to the voicemail.
Throughout the forty-five minutes of waiting, he continued to try to make contact with this
Trixie Wiggins, the temp.
The idea of taking some time to rest and relax disappeared with every additional issue
he found.
* * * *
Pensacola, Florida
After landing and gathering his bags, Reece contacted the cheap long-term parking lot
where he’d left his Jeep to request a pick-up. Within a half-hour, he was driving his beloved,
battered Cherokee across the bridge to the small peninsula south of the city. At the end was
his home of the last ten years, Shore Breeze. He turned south in the small town, heading
toward the coast and his business. He’d chosen to have his office in the southern end section
of the main shopping center around Zephyr and Seacoast. Reece had built his company on
the large corner lot and purchased the two additional lots. Deciding to make a statement,
he’d created small visual gardens of different styles to give potential clients ideas of his
work.
Passing the flower shop and pet store, Reece turned into the entrance of the three-
bedroom, two-bath home he’d converted to his company office. There was an expansive
front patio with classic ionic columns supporting the corners. The building wasn’t as
important as the land around it. He took time to put in the details in the ground, showcasing
everything he could create for another homeowner or business person.
After pulling into his spot, Reece grabbed his messenger bag and climbed out. He
pushed open the engraved glass-inlay door. Entering the office, he noticed that it was quiet
except for the television—most of the lights were off to darken the room, and a layer of dust
covered the woodwork around him. It wasn’t right. The office was always busy and full of
people, conversation and plants.
Nicole Dennis
15
He stared around the area. Plants! Where were all of his houseplants?
Behind the half-circle desk, a young woman sat, bare feet propped on the desk, chatting
away on a cell, and painting her long nails an outrageous shade of orange. The office lines
rang several times. The television was tuned to an afternoon talk show. Stacks of unopened
mail were scattered across the top of the counter. Some were gray with the dust.
Storming over, Reece turned the television off. He walked around the counter, shoved
her feet off the desk and snatched her phone. He slammed his thumb on the button to hang
up and powered down the damn thing. He wanted her full attention. Aggravated by the nail
polish, he snatched the wastebasket and scooped all the paraphernalia into it.
“Who the hell are you? Son of a— It was a new bottle, and my new boyfriend was on
the line. You piece of shit, I’m gonna call the cops,” the young woman hollered, shoving
herself to her feet.
Straightening to his six-five height, he crossed his arms over his chest and lifted an
eyebrow. “I’m Reece Simpson. I own this business. I take it you’re Trixie.”
She chewed loudly on a wad of gum. She twirled a finger through her hair as she
looked at him from muddy boots to messy hair with a devious, sensual assessment.
“Don’t bother flirting. I’m gay.”
She dropped the flirtatious gaze back into a disgruntled, bored one.
“Are you Trixie? Were you hired by my office manager, Sharon?”
“Yes, she hired me through my temp placement company,” she said, blowing on the
wet nails.
“What the fuck have you been doing here?”
“Sitting here and working, duh.”
Reece grabbed part of a paper stack and shoved it in front of her face. “Why aren’t these
envelopes opened and sorted? Why haven’t my suppliers been paid? You didn’t deposit a
single check. What the fuck have you been doing?”
“Working. I sit here and answer the phones—”
“Bullshit, I called over a dozen times and there wasn’t an answer. I saw you on the cell
while my phones rang.”
“Look. Sharon said to sit here, answer phones, accept packages, tell walk-ins to contact
your cell, and close up. I do it.”
ON THE GREEN
16
“I doubt that.”
“The lady was big as a house and ready to pop. The last thing she wanted was to train
me.” The girl waved a hand and snapped her gum.
“Would you spit the blasted gum in the basket?”
“Hell no, it’s my last piece.”
“Where are the houseplants?”
“What?”
“The plants were all over this place. Where are they?”
“They got dry and brown. I tossed them out back. Yuck.”
“What?” Reece shoved fingers through his hair.
“By the way, I need you to sign my payroll forms.”
“Excuse me?”
She grabbed some forms and placed them on the desk with a pen.
Reece picked one up and saw that not only had she put in a full forty weeks, but that
she was also trying to claim overtime. Choosing a black Sharpie, he crossed through all
forms, wrote ‘hours not accepted’, ‘temp dismissed’, and signed his name.
“What the hell? You’re supposed to sign the shit. I need to get paid.”
“You’re not getting paid for sitting on your ass and doing nothing. Get your shit
together, Trixie. You’re fired. I’ll be talking to your placement office to consider taking you
off their list of prospective employees. Drop the key ring on the desk. Now.”
“I’m not fired. You haven’t been here to know what I was doing. You can’t confirm
anything.”
“I can confirm phones weren’t answered, mail not opened, invoices unpaid and sent,
and customers and suppliers going berserk. Yeah, I can confirm everything you haven’t
done. Keys on desk, now.” Reece slammed a fist on the desk and made her jump.
“Okay.” Trixie snatched up a handbag and plopped it on the desk. She yanked out the
key ring and dropped it with a clatter. “Anything else?”
“Leave.”
“Fine. Stupid piece of shit,” she muttered as she jammed her feet into sky-high heels.
She stalked off. She slammed the door harder than necessary behind her.
Nicole Dennis
17
“What the hell next…?” Reece dropped into the chair, lowered his head, then banged
his forehead on the desk.
ON THE GREEN
18
Chapter Two
Several days later, Reece continued to work through the hell his office had become. He
had a few days left before he could give Davis Klower an answer or payment. Taking a
break, Reece walked up the street to Breeze Shoppe. He was tired of making his own coffee
and meals.
Picking up a breakfast sandwich and large iced café frappé blended with a shot of
espresso and cream, he thanked Candice then headed to the door. At the same time, the bell
over the door rang. He slammed against another body. His iced drink crushed between their
chests. The cold creamy liquid splashed against both of them, damping their shirts to the
skin.
“Holy crap!” Reece met the gaze of his ‘victim’. He swallowed hard at the sight of deep
brown eyes with striations of green and gold within the dark coloring. When he recognized
the now droopy colored hair, he realized he’d soaked Dakota’s sous chef, Malcolm Bissette.
He lowered his gaze to the almost transparent material and the sculpted body underneath.
Gorgeous. Malcolm was gorgeous and so not the once cute little ‘brother’ type who had
hung out with Dakota. Why hadn’t he seen it before whenever he’d visited his friends at the
Charm?
Malcolm held out his hands, stunned by the icy assault. “That’s cold!”
Stepping back, Reece moved the cup to his other hand, and shook one hand to remove
the last of the remains of his drink. He sucked his thumb at the fleeting memory of his
beloved frappé. Moving his gaze, he met with a drenched white printed shirt, covered with
the frozen liquid that clung to the slender chest.
“Oh, damn, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see you,” Reece said when they tried to move
around one another.
Their chests pressed against each other. The almost skin-to-skin contact was fascinating.
“It’s okay. Oh, crap, this is cold. What was it?”
“Iced espresso frappé,” Reece said.
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19
“Damn. Good stuff,” Malcolm said as he plucked at the T-shirt. He shivered hard.
“Oooh, there is cold slush going where it shouldn’t.” He wiggled his hips and shook one leg.
“Damn. Candice, we need towels or something!” Reece wrapped his hand around Mal’s
elbow and tugged him farther inside the store. “Candice…”
“Coming…” the shop owner called.
“I’m so damn sorry,” Reece said as he set the crushed cup and soaked bag aside.
“Hey, didn’t watch where I was going. It’s all good. Coffee drinks come out in the
wash,” Malcolm said as he tugged the hem of the T-shirt over his head. He used the back of
the shirt to pat his skin.
Reece swallowed hard at the sight of the bare golden chest revealed to him. Malcolm
wasn’t pumped, but sculpted and lean as if he built the muscles for his work in the kitchen
and not for appearance.
“Here you go, sweetie. Are you both okay?” Candice asked, appearing next to them
with towels in hand.
“Yeah, a little mistake on both of our parts. No harm done. Looks like Reece needs a
new drink,” Malcolm said as he dropped the shirt with a wet plop.
Reece took a towel to help Malcolm dry off.
“You got half of the drink on yourself,” Malcolm said and nodded toward Reece.
Reece dropped his gaze and groaned. “Shit.” He tugged on his shirt and yanked it over
his head. He added it to the wet pile. “I’ll pay you back for the shirt.”
“Nah. It was cheap.”
“Really.”
“It’s fine, Reece. Calm down about it.”
“I want to do something…”
“No. No.” Malcolm dried off with the last towel and bounced on his toes.
“Hmm. Two handsome almost naked men in my store, and damn if neither one of you
swings my way,” Candice said as she tossed them each a T-shirt. “On the shop.”
Reece caught and shook out the shirt to see the town logo on the front and yanked it
over his head. He noticed Malcolm had the same. He found himself disappointed when Mal
covered his fine chest.
“Thanks, Candy,” Mal said with a kiss to her cheek.
ON THE GREEN
20
“No problem, sweetie. Do you want your usual?”
“Please,” Mal said.
“On my bill. I insist. Could I get a replacement?” Reece said as he motioned to the
crushed cup and soaked bag.
Candice placed her hands on her hips. “Are you going to drink it this time and not
splash it around?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Hmm. We’ll see,” she said and left to get their orders.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Malcolm said.
Reece shook his head. “I need to make amends somehow. Please accept.”
“You’re one of Dakota’s best friends and part of the Charm family, Reece.” Malcolm
rested a hand on Reece’s arm. “Really.”
“Would you accept an offer of dinner?”
“Dinner?” Malcolm laughed and shook his head. “You are crazy. What happened while
you were gone?”
Clamming up at the rebuff, Reece took a step back.
“Oh. Shit. Reece, I’m sorry. You’re Dakota’s friend…” Malcolm tried to apologize.
Reece shook his head to stop him.
“Reece, your order is ready,” Candice said, holding out the large cup and white bag.
“Thank you again, Candice,” Reece said, taking the purchases. “And Malcolm’s order?”
“On its way and I added it to your bill.”
“Thank you,” Reece said, stepping around Malcolm before scooping up the wet shirts.
“I’ll see if I can clean them and return yours to the Charm. It was good to see you again,
Malcolm.”
Malcolm walked toward Reece. “Reece…”
With a smile, Reece left the store and returned to his office.
* * * *
A few days later, nothing had changed in his office. He drank gallons of coffee and
devoured more fast food than his stomach preferred. At night, he couldn’t sleep. Dreams of
Nicole Dennis
21
his encounter with Malcolm haunted them. He drew his fingers down the golden skin, licked
his way across the abdominal muscles. The damn dreams stopped when he tried to go
further than touching Malcolm’s belly. The moment his fingers touched the waistband, he
found himself yanked awake. A raging hard-on would tent his pajamas and it wouldn’t go
down until he took the fantasy into the shower and masturbated to the memory of Malcolm’s
face and perfect body.
Nothing helped to calm his body or defuse the dreams. The office chaos continued to
grow as he dug further into the depths of papers. He wept when he found the plants.
All his beloved, nurtured plants were dry, withered and dead on the lanai. Forlorn
shadows of what they used to be when he’d left them. Even with his knowledge and talent,
he couldn’t revive any of them.
Needing a break, Reece took a trip to the nursery, purchased several new plants. He
brought them to the office where he planted each one carefully in its new home. He spent
hours with them, weeding and mulching the gardens around the building, and watering
everything. Covered in sweat and dirt, Reece stood under the shower to wash it away. He
never felt as comfortable talking to people as he did on the topic of plants. He lost himself in
their flowering and green beauty and drawn away from the realities of life.
Leaving the office bathroom, dressed in fresh jeans and shirt, Reece heard the phones
ringing. He fielded hours of phone calls from aggravated suppliers, clients, and anyone else
who wanted a piece of him.
The bell rang over the door.
Rubbing his temples, Reece didn’t want to turn around. “I apologize, but the office is
closed at the moment. If you could leave a message and return next week, I’ll be able to assist
you in whatever you wish to create with your landscape.”
“Not here for landscaping or plants,” his visitor said with a chuckle.
After spinning in the chair, Reece stood and recognized Dorian Stewart. “Damn, every
time we cross paths, you get more adorable each time, Dorian. How’s your mother?”
Walking across the office to embrace Dorian, Reece stopped at the sight of the insulated bag
in Dorian’s hands.
“Sorry. Hang on.” Dorian set the bag aside and stepped into Reece’s embrace.
They hugged for a long moment.
ON THE GREEN
22
Reece looked upon this brilliant, determined young man as a younger brother. Dakota
felt the same about him—they often spoke to one another about Dorian’s difficult situation.
After his father had died of cancer, Dorian had become the only caretaker when his mother’s
multiple sclerosis had worsened. Whenever either one of them could, Reece and Dakota
helped Dorian with the bills and everyday stuff.
“She’s hanging in there. We’re looking into finding a live-in nurse thanks to the
upgraded health care.”
“New health care? How?”
“It’s through the Ashford Hotel chain, the one who took over half of the Charm,”
Dorian said.
“What? What happened to the Charm?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Dorian swallowed. “Shit. I thought you knew. I don’t know all the details about
how it happened. You gotta talk to Dakota or Sully.”
Reece massaged above the bridge of his nose. “What next?”
“Umm. This…” Dorian reached into the bag and handed over a large, covered plastic
container. “This is for you.”
After taking the container, Reece looked at it then at Dorian. “What is it?”
“Dinner.”
“What?”
“Malcolm said he was sorry for not accepting your invitation. Dakota has us running
like crazy with all the construction. He decided to do the next best thing and make you a
special dinner.”
“What? No. I’m supposed to repay him.”
“He said you tossed an iced coffee drink all over both of you.”
“Not quite what happened, but close.”
“This is his way of forgiving you. Take it. It’s good.”
“What is it?”
“It’s grilled haddock with pea purée and fresh pea and farro salad.”
“Really?”
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“Yup. Enjoy. Come by the Charm when you can. Oh. And call Malcolm.” With a grin,
Dorian gathered the bag and returned to the door. “Bye, I gotta get back.”
“Wait… Hey,” Reece said, but didn’t continue as Dorian raced away.
Lifting the container, he opened the lid and sniffed. It smelled divine. He carried his
special dinner to the kitchen area where he enjoyed every morsel.
* * * *
After another day of non-stop crap hitting the fan, Reece was up to his armpits as he
unraveled the mess. He knew he couldn’t do this alone. He needed another office manager—
one who could help dive into this discombobulation.
His cell rang with the most annoying tone he could locate.
“Ahh, shit.” He answered the call. “Simpson here.”
“Hello, son,” his mother said.
Reece acknowledged his mother’s call. Then he sat and listened to the ongoing whining
about all the intolerances she went through along with his two perfect younger siblings, both
down on their luck and addicted in one way or another, and to how she needed things. His
father, long in the ground, hadn’t left a cent for any of them.
The only way to get her off the line was the promise of a transfer of money to her
account within the next hour. She berated him as to how he seemed to dislike helping his
‘dear old mother’ in her time of need. She insisted that all of the money was for his siblings
and not for one of her frequent casino trips with her friends. He knew exactly where the
money would go—into one of the damn slot machines.
Reece didn’t let the digs hurt him further than his family wounded him. He didn’t
promise any more money and mentioned that he had to leave. He hung up.
Thanks to his mother’s whining, he felt a migraine twisting his temple. It came
complete with a battery of annoying prodromes. He yanked out the wastebasket in time to
heave the burning remains of his last cup of coffee. Setting the basket down as the nausea
rolled and flipped his belly in ways it wasn’t supposed to, he braced his forehead on a
forearm. Since he’d taken two migraine pills within the last two hours, he didn’t want to take
a chance with a third one.
ON THE GREEN
24
The bell on the door jingled, announcing the arrival of someone. Probably another client
or supplier who wanted to know where the hell their contract, money, or whatever was. He
moaned as the pealing sound of the bell crashed through his brain. He reached for the basket
again as his stomach rolled with nausea.
Holy fuck, I want to toss the damn bell.
“Hello? Is someone here?”
Lifting his head when he heard the local sheriff’s voice, Reece waved a hand. “Over
here, Sheriff. Yank the damn bell off the door, will ya?”
The bell rattled again as the tall Sheriff removed it and set it on the floor. “It’s on the
floor near the door. Reece? Where are you?”
“I’m behind the front desk. I don’t know how much good I’m doing being back in the
office, though,” Reece said as he leaned back in the chair.
Reece turned in the chair to see Sheriff Robin Bourke walk around the edge of the desk
and stop short. He placed a hand on his utility belt and waved the other in front of his face.
“Why do I smell puke? Did you hurl?”
“Duh, I got a migraine with fucking nausea.”
Moving closer, Robin kicked the wastebasket away. Reece winced and moaned at the
sudden noise.
“Sorry.” Robin crouched his six-four frame to get on Reece’s level. “What are you still
doing on your feet? You need to be in bed.”
“Office fucked up because a bitch temp screwed with my business. I can’t lose
everything I built.”
“The twit I saw coming in and out of the office was a temp? Where’s Sharon? I know
she was pregnant.”
“The baby was premature and in the NICU so she couldn’t be here,” Reece said and
gave Robin the short version of his disastrous week.
After listening to all his complaints, Robin patted Reece’s shoulder. “Don’t blame
yourself for all this shit. You couldn’t have known.”
“It’s my office and I’m supposed to know what’s happening.” Reece moaned in pain,
closed his eyes, and rubbed his temple. “Shit, I feel like hell.”
“Did you take your meds?”
Nicole Dennis
25
“Took two and they haven’t done shit.”
“I’ll call Doc and he can get you a shot,” Robin said as he pulled out his cell and dialed
the clinic’s number. “Hey, Marianne, it’s the sheriff. Is the doc available for a quick house call
or can you do it? I’m here with Reece Simpson. He’s having a full-blown migraine and his
regular rescue meds aren’t working. I figure one of you can give him a shot in his ass. He’s
puking his guts.” Robin listened to the other end and smiled. “Yeah, I know. Thanks. I’ll see
you in five.” He placed the phone on the desk. “Marianne will be here in five. I think you’re
overdue for a change.”
“Figured it was the case.”
“Talk to me about the trouble? Can I help?”
“What isn’t wrong? Don’t know if you can.”
“Do you need another office manager and assistant?”
“Yeah. Sharon wants another full-time manager even when she returns.”
“I can handle this part.” Robin leaned against the desk as he picked up the phone.
“Do you have an office manager on dial?”
“I have something a little better.”
“What?”
“Not what, who—and it’s one of my younger sisters.” Robin winked and listened to the
phone. “Hey there, Emmy girl. It’s your big brother.” He waited as he listened to his sister.
“Are you still looking for a job?” He listened again. “Yup, I got one for you. Get some pretty
clothes on, bring your fancy résumé, and head over to Southern Haven. My friend Reece
Simpson owns the place and needs an office manager with your skills.” He turned off his
phone and grinned. “Okay, I did my good deed for the day by getting you a doc and an
office manager within ten minutes.”
“Damn, you’re good. Kiss me.”
“Nah, you smell like puke.”
“Thanks.” Reece moaned as his head swirled with pain. “Shit, need bucket…”
Robin shoved the wastebasket in place and grimaced. “Ugh. Good thing I can handle
blood and puke in my job.”
“Got nothing left but acid to puke. Damn,” Reece said with a long moan.
“Hang in there, buddy, I got help coming.”
ON THE GREEN
26
The double knock on the door made Reece whimper.
“I know that noise.” The nurse practitioner, Marianne Rumsay, walked around the
corner of the desk then stopped when she saw them. She shook her head and moved to check
him over. “How long have you been suffering?”
“Had the prodromes for several days, and yesterday evening the onslaught kicked in,
and, if possible, got worse. I took two pills and a shit load of coffee, but nothing is stopping. I
can’t leave. Things are a wreck,” Reece said.
The gray-haired lady tugged out gloves from a bag. She let them snap around her
wrists. She sniffed and glanced at the wastebasket. “Sheriff, could you be a dear and empty
the bucket? Also, give the bucket a rinse with bleach and water when it’s emptied.”
“Oh sure, give me the nasty job,” Robin said. “Got an extra glove?”
The nurse held out another pair of blue gloves.
“Thanks. You owe me one, buddy, for cleaning your puke,” Robin said, pointing a
finger at Reece.
“Yeah, at least it’s not in your back seat like a drunk pick-up.” Reece moaned in pain.
“Ugh. Alcohol puke is the worse stank.” Robin grumbled as he pulled on the gloves,
grabbed the bucket at a full arm’s length, and left the area.
Meanwhile, Marianne prepared a syringe, an alcohol pad, then grinned at him. “Okay,
Reece, you need to unzip and flash me an ass cheek.”
“You enjoy this.”
“I’m seeing a hot man’s ass, yup. Come on, boy. Unzip.”
Mumbling, Reece fiddled with his jeans and twisted to lift his bared ass. He felt the cold
swipe of the alcohol wipe. The nurse gave a warning, then he felt the pinprick as the needle
delivered the medication. Another wipe and done.
“Okay, handsome, you can fix your pants and lie down for at least one hour. No
arguments.”
“I can’t—”
“One hour. Sleep.”
“Okay. Thanks, Marianne. What do I owe you?”
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27
“I’ll send an invoice.” She took care of securing the used medical instruments in a safety
disposable box then dropped a pill container next to him. “New rescue medication
prescription. Call if they don’t work or we need to increase your preventive medication.”
“Thanks.”
“Get some rest. You need it.” She rose, patted his knee in a grandmotherly-care-taking
type of fashion. “Sheriff, I’m leaving. Keep an eye on him over the next hour.”
“Will do. Thanks, Marianne,” Robin called back.
As Marianne left the office, Reece pushed himself out of the chair and wobbled to a
back bedroom he’d converted into his personal office. He’d added a futon for when he
needed to crash and couldn’t make it home. “I’m in the back, Robin.” He stepped out of his
shoes, opened the futon, then flopped across it, tugging a blanket over himself.
“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out for my sister. Need anything?”
“Sleep.”
“Can’t help there, buddy.”
Hearing Robin’s voice closer, Reece cracked open one eyelid and looked over his
shoulder to see his friend in the doorway. “Thanks.”
“Any time. Get some rest.”
Closing his eyes, Reece slid into sleep.
* * * *
Awakening from the nap feeling better than he had in days, Reece stretched and sat.
After shoving a hand through his hair, he tamed the mussed locks while he stepped into his
shoes. He smelled something delicious cooking and followed his nose. While the disaster
area formerly known as the front desk remained, he knew it would hold for a little longer.
Laughter and voices echoed from the kitchen as he entered.
Sitting at the small table, cup of coffee and bowl of something in front of him, Robin
was talking with a lady standing by the stove and stirring the contents of a large pot. He
could tell this was Robin’s sister from their matching ebony hair and deep brown eyes. She
had dressed in navy slacks, a silky-looking sweater, and her hair pulled in a stylish chignon.
“Hello. Look who’s feeling better,” she said with a smile as Robin shifted in the chair.
ON THE GREEN
28
“Hey, Reece, how are you doing?” Robin asked.
“Better. The pain is gone. Still have some lingering issues, but they’re fading.” Reece
moved through the kitchen and held out his hand. “Reece Simpson.”
“Emilienne Bourke-Young, this goofball’s younger sister,” she said, giving Reece’s hand
a firm shake. “You can call me Emmy.”
“Nice to meet you, Emmy. Robin said you could help me out with my little problem.”
“From what I saw out there, you have a big problem,” she said. “First, how about we
talk over a bowl of fresh minestrone soup?”
“Sounds fabulous.”
“Coffee, water or something else?”
“I’ll get a glass of water,” Reece said and moved to get a glass and fill it from the
fridge’s front dispenser.
“I enjoy how you keep this place well stocked with more than snacks. Is this part of the
job to keep the fridge and pantry full?”
“I found it’s easier to have food available to anyone instead of going out of the office. I
care about decent nutrition. So, yes, I consider it part of the general office upkeep.” Reece
leaned against the counter and sipped from his glass.
“Oh, good, you’re a fellow healthy food nut. I keep trying to get this big lug away from
his burgers and fries, but he insists,” Emmy said, smacking her brother’s shoulder. She
ladled soup in a bowl and set it down. “Come, sit and eat. We’ll talk about what you need.”
Reece pulled out her chair to let her sit then settled in the chair across from the siblings.
He saw a piece of paper with Emmy’s name on top. “Is this your résumé?”
“I figured you’d want to take a look and keep it for a file,” Emmy said.
Glancing down her work history, abilities and education, Reece was impressed with
what the lady was capable of, and she seemed more qualified than Sharon. “Why are you
unemployed with this résumé?”
“I keep wondering the same thing,” she said with a laugh.
Reece shook his head. “Considering your brother recommended you before I barely
explained anything, I’m going with his word. You’re hired.”
Emmy let out another bright laugh and accepted his handshake over bowls of soup.
“This is an interesting way of handling an interview.”
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29
“I’m desperate.”
“Lay it on me,” she said.
As they devoured the bowls of delicious minestrone and fresh rolls, Reece laid out all
the chaos. He went on to what he’d tried to accomplish during the last week on his own, but
explained that it wasn’t going well. He realized he’d relied too much upon Sharon and
hadn’t overseen things properly.
“We have multiple issues to organize,” Emmy said.
“Are you up to the job?”
“I’m quite capable. Are you leaving for another trip?”
“No, I’m sticking around here until things get standardized. I decided to upgrade
certain project managers to field supervisors and place them in charge of finishing the
projects. I’ll handle the clients from the initial contact, design phase and beginning of
excavation, and check on the progress at certain times. A supervisor will be with me through
all of the initial steps so the client knows and trusts them. This way, I’ll have more time on
my hands to handle the office and anything else. I figured out some answers and solutions
over the last week and jotted down notes and ideas. When I can, I’ll hold a meeting for
everyone and set out the new layout, hierarchy, and rules,” Reece said. “Delicious soup.”
“Long-time family recipe,” Emmy said. “We’ll need to work up a packet to hand out at
the meeting for everyone to follow along—perhaps a page where they sign off to show they
understand the new procedures we can keep for their personnel records.”
“Yes. Perfect.” Reece glared at Robin. “Why didn’t you introduce me to your sister
when she lost her other job? I would’ve added her in a heartbeat.”
“Sorry. Didn’t know,” Robin said with a laugh as he gathered the bowls and placed
them in the sink. He leaned over to kiss his sister’s cheek. “Congrats and good luck, sis. I
need to get back on patrol.”
“Thanks for staying and helping,” Reece said, holding out his hand, and the friends
knuckle-bumped.
“Any time. Take care.” With a wave, Robin left them.
“Where do we start?” Emmy asked.
Reece found himself laughing, rising and hugging the dear woman off her chair. His life
and office would finally be back on track.
ON THE GREEN
30
* * * *
Things took time, but between long hours put in by Reece and Emmy, the office crap
situation was being reconciled. It took a few appeasing calls from both of them to certain
suppliers, but they got them paid with a rush of printed checks and courier drops to the
various companies. They did another printing spree of invoices and sent them to clients with
notes for each entered into the corresponding system.
When Reece realized he could begin to breathe and control the panic, he dropped in his
office and went through the piles of messages, lost voicemails, emails and requests of new
and current clients. He checked in with the various employees in the fields, jotting down
their progress updates to add to the system, and gave them information or tackled problems.
His cell buzzed. With a grimace, he grabbed the earpiece and stuck it in his ear. He hit
the button and answered, “Southern Haven Landscape and Design, this is Reece Simpson.”
“Hey, it’s Sully. Where have you been?”
The grimace turned into a grin as Reece heard his good friend Sullivan Tarleton. He
leaned back in the chair.
“Hey there, it’s been a hella long time since we spoke.”
“I know. What’s been happening? Where have you been?”
“Sorry, man, I was in Georgia on a complicated golf course. Been busy as shit,” he said.
“Damn, boy, why were you gone so long?”
“Finding clients and earning money. Plants don’t only grow down here in the Sunshine
State.”
“I hear you. Where are you now?”
“Sitting in my office and dealing with an upheaval of issues,” Reece said.
“Shit, man. What happened?”
Reece gave a harsh laugh. “What didn’t happen…?” He continued to inform Sully from
his migraine to Robin’s rescue.
“Sounds like a fun time.”
“Yeah, it’s been a real joy. I can’t stay on top of everything so I’m changing things
around.”
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31
“Can’t say I blame you.”
“What are you doing calling me? I know you don’t want to hear me whining.” Reece
picked up a pen and spun it between his fingers.
“Did you get a call from a Samuel Ashford?”
“Ashford… Ashford…” Reece moved paperwork around and found a message. “Are
you talking about Samuel Ashford of Ashford Hotels and Southern Charm? Dorian told me
something about this place and the Charm. He didn’t give me all the details. Ashford called
me several times. What happened to Ed?”
“Dorian? When did you see him?”
“He stopped in a couple of days ago. Doesn’t matter. Tell me what happened.”
“Edward retired and sold his half of the Charm to a New York chain of hotels.”
“Did he do this without telling Kota? Hella, I’m sure he blew off his top. How bad did
Kota flip out?”
“Yeah, it was pretty bad. There were rumors of Kota slicing and dicing shrimp with a
sharp knife during the conversation.”
“Ouch.”
“This Ashford place sent Samuel, one of the prodigal sons, to oversee the latest
acquisition. He needed to decide whether to outright sell off the Charm to the highest bidder
or stick around and help fix and upgrade the Charm and stick with her. Luckily, he went
with the later decision. Dakota is rather smitten with the little Yankee fellow.”
“No shit! Kota took the plunge?”
“Oh yeah, he took the fall the hard way. They’re living together. He’s all dreamy-eyed
and besotted.”
“Damn, I need to see this miracle. What’s happening with the Charm?”
“I can finally make whatever alterations to the landscaping.”
“Congrats, I know you wanted to get your hands on her for some time.”
“Yeah, feels good to finally help the old girl out.”
Reece heard Sully speak with someone for a few moments then come back.
“I need you to get your ass here to tame this damn jungle. There’s an owner’s cabin
about ten or fifteen feet deep and we need to free it. I’m sure it’s going to be torn down and
rebuilt, but not unless I can reach it.”
ON THE GREEN
32
“Finally, I can tame the forbidden jungle.”
“I’m not talking only around the cabin. Samuel wants something done from the road
back. He wants everything cleaned and redone.”
Reece hollered with approval. “Damn, I’ll get my ass over there within fifteen minutes
to speak with him. You know I wanted this for years.”
“Here’s your chance if you get your ass here. See you soon.”
Reece smacked his hands together, and got to his feet. “Hey, Emmy, I need to get outta
here and down to the Charm. I can finally clear the jungle and do my stuff.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Can you handle the office?”
Emmy laughed. “Get outta here and rescue the Charm from evil vines and weeds.”
Laughing with her, Reece ducked back in his office, exchanged the faded T-shirt for a
pristine mint green golf-style shirt with his company’s logo, checked his jeans, then changed
his loafers for regular work boots. He swung on his ancient, black leather jacket thin enough
to handle the Florida climate changes. He gathered everything he needed in a messenger bag
and raced for his Jeep.
There was no way he could miss out on this opportunity.
Nicole Dennis
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Chapter Three
Arriving at the Charm, Reece walked inside and heard voices from a back area. When
someone said his name, he moved around the corner to find a bunch of guys staring at an
opened area in the wall.
“Hey there, I’m Reece.”
He recognized Sully’s interest in a short fella with glasses. There was another smaller
man as well, who seemed more polished and stayed close to Dakota’s side.
Glancing between his friends, Reece hid a grin when he saw Dakota’s dopey lovesick
look. He couldn’t bring himself to antagonize his friends. He went through the complicated
handshake gesture and routine with Sully.
“Reece Simpson, I want to introduce you to my new partner, Samuel Ashford. He’s my
partner in the hotel and in life,” Dakota said as he wrapped an arm around Samuel.
“A pleasure to meet you, Reece, I’ve heard a lot of good things about you,” Samuel said.
“Sorry I didn’t get your messages. Things went to hell while I was on an out-of-state
job,” Reece said. “If I knew you all needed my help, I would have been here a hella lot
sooner.”
“It’s okay. You’re here now. Do you have time for a quick conference with me so we can
discuss the changes and what needs to be done around here?”
“I do. Sully called and told me to get my ass here, so I did.”
“Reece, could you follow me to the office? I apologize for the mess as Chandler and I
are midway to getting a handle on organizing everything,” Samuel said.
“After what I’ve been through, I don’t mind. Lead the way back,” Reece said and
followed Samuel with Dakota next to him.
He nudged Dakota and nodded toward Samuel’s back.
“What?” Dakota asked.
“You know what,” Reece said.
“It happened. I’m not fighting it,” the grumpy chef said.
“Did he get his coffee?” Reece asked Samuel.
ON THE GREEN
34
“Yes, he’s cranky from the noise,” Samuel said.
“Damn good thing there isn’t a soufflé in the oven or everyone would be in trouble,”
the chef said.
“You hate making soufflé because they’re stuffy and annoying, so don’t go there,”
Reece said.
“I can learn to like them.”
“Within the next five minutes?”
Grumbling, Dakota veered off into the kitchen.
“Guess he isn’t gonna offer me dinner or anything to a poor, starving man?” Reece
called out.
“Jeez, Samuel, you’ve been here long enough to get your own iced tea. I swear we need
to give you an IV,” someone called back.
“Hey, it wasn’t me,” Samuel said.
The sous chef stepped out of the cold storage, a heavy metal pan in his hands, his hair
tipped bright blue, and whistling to an Elton John song playing on the radio. Instead of a
chef’s coat, Malcolm wore a shiny blue shirt and tight jeans under an apron. He stared back
at Reece, lifting an eyebrow in silent question.
Reece swallowed hard and returned the brief stare. He’d dreamt about this moment
since their disastrous meeting. Clearing his throat, he shoved a hand in his pocket and
glanced at Dakota. “Hey, chef, I think you need to double up the caffeine. You’re acting like a
grumpy bear,” he teased Dakota.
“Shut it, Reece.”
“My poor darling,” Samuel said, kissing Dakota’s cheek. “Hey, Mal, you met Reece?”
“Whenever he stops by the Charm to see Dakota or feed his empty stomach,” Mal said.
“And when I accidentally smashed a large iced coffee drink between us,” Reece said.
Mal chuckled. “Right. Were you able to get the shirts cleaned?”
“No, the stains are being stubborn.”
Mal shrugged. “It was a cheap shirt. Toss it.”
Reece moved his fingers in his pocket. “Thank you for the dinner. It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome,” Malcolm said.
Reece turned to Samuel and forced himself to concentrate on why he was at the Charm.
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“Do either of you want iced tea or food?” Malcolm asked.
“I’m good. Gotta talk with Reece and get him to help us,” Samuel said. “Dakota, aren’t
you coming with us?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, I forgot.” Dakota removed the apron he was in the process of
putting on and hung it from a hook. He passed Malcolm, spoke a few words with him, then
headed to the hallway.
“The weeds are going to take over before I can attack them.” Reece pushed away from
the opening and followed Samuel and Dakota. He glanced back at Malcolm and nodded his
goodbye. He didn’t dare offer another invite for anything more after the first refusal.
Even if he dared to give it another shot, there was nothing between them to hold a
relationship. Malcolm was flamboyant and crazy. Reece was steadfast and determined to
push his career and business to the top. Besides, he had no freaking clue how to build a
relationship or anything beyond a few nights of hot, sweaty sex.
Still, he had to admit to himself, Malcolm had a damn fine, pert ass to check out. It went
along with his lean magnificent chest.
* * * *
As Reece strolled away talking with the others, Malcolm stayed in place. That was it.
Nothing else had happened between them. He had thought the dinner was the perfect touch
to open up the elusive landscaper. He’d been stupid at the store, blocking Reece’s invite
without a thought.
Mal stared at the empty spot. He managed to set the container of green beans on the
nearest counter and went to the opening. He leaned back against the arch and stared down
the hallway, hearing the door to Samuel’s office close.
Reece Simpson.
Back after all these months and looking a bit haggard around the eyes, Mal figured
Reece needed a few more hours of sleep and decent meals. Mal knocked his head against the
wall.
He was one of those unlucky kids when he’d come out to his family. They’d rejected
him and he’d left his home with a backpack of belongings. Malcolm had lived a couple of
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years on the Orlando streets. He’d stood in line for the free meals and a bed at various
shelters. He’d helped anyone who would accept his request for a few dollars here and there.
There had been times when he had accepted the bag of toiletries when someone had handed
them out. Throughout his time on the streets, he’d never let down his guard or hope. He
wasn’t ashamed about having been homeless. It had been a tough, draining life, but he’d
grown stronger.
One day he’d asked a stranger if he’d wanted help emptying a van. He had smelled the
food inside and realized that this was a caterer’s van. The chef was Dakota, who’d taken one
look at him and asked if he had a place to stay. Mal had given him the truth. In return,
Dakota had brought him back to this small beach town and old bed and bath hotel. He’d
fallen in love from the first minute with the Charm and the town.
In the Delights, Mal had stayed by Dakota’s side, learning the entire business from the
dishwasher and up. He’d learned fast because he adored food, the creativity, the blending
and the thrill of watching others enjoy his talents. He had blossomed under Dakota’s care.
After his twenty-first birthday several years ago, Mal’s attention had turned toward
Dakota’s best friend, Reece. Over the years, he’d longed for simple glimpses of Reece with
his piercing spring green eyes. He craved for their gazes to meet and Reece to accept him
with a kiss and embrace. He’d crushed his chance when he’d turned down a simple invite to
a dinner.
The man of his dreams he wanted to snatch and carry him off to the nearest bed for a
sweaty weekend of hot sex. Mal had screwed up his chance with Reece, it showed in the
stilted conversation between them. It was as though all of Reece’s previous attraction to him
was gone.
“What the fuck happened? It was one refusal. Come on, it can be fixed.” He curled a
hand into a fist. He wished he could blend into the wall and disappear.
“Hello, Mal.”
“He’s here,” Mal said as he glanced at the quirky accountant from New York, Chandler
Braddock.
“Who?”
Mal lowered his gaze to the floor and let Chandler draw him into a conversation about
the infuriating landscaper.
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He banged his head against the wall. “Damn. Screw it all.” Mal waved a hand in a
dismissal fashion. He untied, removed the white apron, and tossed it behind him. He didn’t
bother hanging it on a stinking hook. “No, I’m not invisible for anyone, damn it. I have a
great job I love. I have a little place near the beach. I can cover my bills and life. Screw it.” He
shoved a hand through his blue-tipped hair. “Hell, I need to take a trip to Pensacola and
dance all the crap away. Perhaps I can find another cute guy to suck me off.”
Chandler’s eyes widened during his rant.
“What? You never went to a club to fuck a stranger? Come on, it’s fun. Ya wanna come
with me?”
“No, I wish I could, but I don’t do well in crowds or dark areas.”
“Oh, sorry, but too bad. It’s a damn good way to burn off energy, anger, and satisfy a
craving for sex.” Mal shrugged. “You gotta be careful when you’re amongst the crowd and
who you chose. Still, it’s a damn good time.”
“I wish I could savor it for myself.”
“Could you tell Dakota I went for a walk? I’ll be back in time for the rush, but I need to
scream, yell, and holler.”
“Are you sure you want to handle things this way? Don’t you want to confront him?”
“No, there isn’t another way. No point in confronting him when he has no freaking
clue.” Mal waved a hand to him. “See ya later, Chandler.” Heading to his personal locker, he
pocketed his things, slammed the metal door shut, then walked out of the kitchen. He didn’t
bother to listen for a reply.
* * * *
Leaving his shoes next to the steps, Malcolm stomped down the stairs. He hip-swayed a
path across the warm sand. His hips rolled with every step as he kicked sand with his anger,
until he hit the hard packed areas where the high tide crashed against the beach. He headed
away from the Charm and town and toward the nature preserve. While the preserve was off
limits, he walked along the shoreline.
Crouching down, he rolled his pants several times up his calves. He walked through
the rolling waves, splashing water and kicking through it. He stared out, clenched his fists,
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and screamed until his throat was raw. He picked up shells and rocks to toss farther out.
When his toes got cold, he headed up the shore and found a rock to sit upon then stared out
over the ocean.
Rolling a beautiful scallop shell between his fingers, Malcolm tried to figure what was
going to happen in his life. As he’d ranted to Chandler, he had a decent life. He loved his job
and working with Dakota. The duplex where he’d purchased a condo was old, quaint, but
overlooked downtown Shore Breeze and the ocean. His condo was on the upper corner and
perfect for him. He could pay his bills every month, put away a little bit, and spend a little
more.
The one thing missing from his life was love. A person to call his own.
Why was it so hard?
Had he wasted time on a crush of a cold man who turned away from him after one
simple refusal? Could he change things with Reece? Was it even worth the effort?
Stopping himself from cracking the beautiful shell, Mal set it on the rock next to him.
He bent over to sift through the sand, searching for treasures left behind by the tides. With a
side toss, he sent a crawling starfish flying into the waves. It struggled as the water emptied
from the small tide pool.
“What am I doing? I’m being a complete idiot,” he muttered, pulling his knees up and
wrapping his arms around them.
Resting his chin on his knee, he stared at the ocean and the setting sun until his phone
buzzed. Grumbling, he checked it to see a text from Dakota to get his ass back in the kitchen.
He sent a text back. He made the long slow walk back toward the Charm and his job.
Walking into the kitchen, he ignored Dakota’s questioning glare as he washed his hands and
yanked on his apron.
“Where do you want me?” he asked as he went to his station.
“Where have you been?”
“Needed to take a walk. Didn’t Chandler tell you I stepped out for a few?”
“Yeah, but he didn’t explain what’s happening with you. Why would you take a walk?
Right before we prepare for the dinner rush.”
“What does it matter? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
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“Nothing. We need to get ready for dinner. What do you need me to do?”
“Prawns, scallops and mussels are in cold storage. Get them clean, shelled and sliced.”
“Right. What are they going to be used in?”
“Seafood risotto. You’ll be in charge of it for the night.”
Mal leaned against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest and lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m ranked a little higher than risotto watcher. Give it to Dorian.”
“Dorian is here on time and preparing crabs.”
Glancing to the side, Mal located the young assistant-in-training. Dorian was in the
position Mal had found himself at sixteen. They both had started at the bottom position
within the kitchen and had to work their way up. While Mal was now a sous chef, he helped
Dorian enter the business and tutor him as Dakota had with him.
Dorian smacked a crawling, grumpy crab back into a bowl. He slapped another claw
and yipped when the red bugger caught his finger. He sucked on his finger and waved a
knife at the beady-eyed crustacean. “You’re going to be next,” he said over everyone’s
laughter. Looking away from the dinner option, he mouthed ‘Sorry’ when he met Mal’s gaze.
His baby blue eyes were honest and remorseful.
Mal gave a shrug in answer. It was his damn fault.
“Dorian, you okay?” Dakota called out.
“Finger is intact. Why do I get stuck with the crabby snapping seafood?” Dorian
wiggled his finger.
“Because you’re the youngster who is learning all of our secrets,” Glenn, the seafood
sous chef, said with a laugh.
“Thanks, Glenn, appreciate and love you too. Stupid crab will be dinner in a minute,
Chef.”
“Keep them under control,” Dakota said then pointed to Mal. “Seafood. Risotto. Now.”
Without a word, Mal turned and followed orders.
During the evening, Dorian stopped by and dropped a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “Are
you okay?”
Mal looked at Dakota and saw him talking to Reece in the doorway. It took a moment,
but Reece met Mal’s searching, stormy gaze.
“Yeah,” Mal said. “I need to go to the clubs. Wanna go?”
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“You know I’m always in on a club night. When?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Do you wanna meet here or your place?”
“My place, I’ll drive over when we nail down a date,” Mal said.
“Okay.” Dorian bumped his fist against Mal’s shoulder then headed away to man his
station.
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Chapter Four
Dragging his exhausted body home after the dinner rush, Mal was grateful that Dakota
hadn’t made him clean the entire kitchen since two other preparers had screwed up several
dishes. They ticked off the chef. Mal thought he’d gotten a brief reprieve, but knew the chef
wasn’t done with making him pay for walking out on prep without a decent answer. Mal
wanted to collapse on his comfortable bed and sleep for days.
He climbed the stairs to his second-floor condo, which overlooked the ocean. He was on
the end close to the town’s center, but the walls were soundproofed enough to not bother
him during his odd sleeping hours. He was grateful that he didn’t have to hear his neighbors.
Inside, he leaned against the door.
Why was he so tired?
Mal groaned, shoving a hand through his limp hair, and pushed away from the door.
He went to his bedroom, stripped, then face-planted across the bed, arms wrapped around
the pillow, and slid into sleep.
* * * *
To his dismay, Mal woke around his usual time, his mind still a mess, swirling,
wondering what was happening in his life. He couldn’t keep checking out a guy who had
zero interest in him. It wasn’t worth the trouble and spent energy.
Rising from the bed, he dragged on boxers, then stumbled into the kitchen for several
cups of coffee the timed brewer created for him. Caffeinated, he returned to the bathroom,
yanked out a bottle of dandruff shampoo, box of baking soda and a smaller bottle. He
squeezed shampoo into the smaller bottle, added a few scoops of soda, closed and shook the
bottle to incorporate the mess. Bringing the bottle with him, he spent a while under the hot
shower, shampooing with regular shampoo, the soda version, then let the mixture sit. After
another wash and deep condition, he stepped out to use a hot oil treatment, wrapped his
hair, then set a timer. He yanked his boxers on and cleaned the bathroom. He stared at the
boxes of dyes and his reflection in the foggy mirror.
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He didn’t want to bother with color. He’d leave his hair plain. It would surprise the hell
out of everyone, but he didn’t want the hassle. While he waited for the treatment to work, he
picked up things strewn around the bedroom and set up a load of laundry.
Hearing the loud buzzing of the timer, he returned to wash out the oil. Rubbing a cloth
on the mirror, he stared at the new version of his reflection. His hair was a little light around
the edges from the constant dyeing and removing, but he could deal with it. He ran a comb
through the locks, checking for any lingering blue, then added a couple of products. A swipe
of cream and razor over his face and he was groomed.
Returning to the bedroom, he dressed in simple dark-wash jeans and a clingy shirt.
After finishing the bit of housework around the condo, he went to the kitchen. He sliced a
tomato, part of a seedless cucumber, and a few kalamata olives. After slicing a pita bread, he
spread fresh hummus on both sides, stacked spring baby lettuce, and the sliced vegetables.
He finished it with some crumbled feta cheese. He placed both halves on a plate with some
chips. Cleaning the leftover mess, he carried the plate, a glass of iced tea, and plopped in
front of the television. He found a repeat of 50 First Dates and settled in to watch the wacky
romantic comedy.
* * * *
The melodic tones of a guitar rang. The ringtone yanked him awake. He slapped the
table until he felt the phone. He opened it without looking and held it to his ear. “What?”
“Where the hell are you?”
Shit, he’d changed Dakota’s tone to the guitar riff. “Hello, Dakota. Whassup?”
“Where the hell are you?”
Blinking open his eyes, Mal looked around, saw that it was growing dark outside. He
pulled back the phone and cursed at the time. “Home. I’m home.”
“I figured. I take it you’re not going to make dinner rush,” his boss said.
“I can be there in five.”
“Stay home. Tomorrow you’ll clean the kitchen.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s going on with you?”
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“Personal shit. I’ll handle it.”
“You better.”
The phone clicked as Dakota hung up on him.
Mal banged his head against the armrest. He never skipped a day of work for no damn
good reason. Never. He pressed both fists to his eyes and groaned. The scrambling sound of
bells buzzed with an incoming message.
GayDor: Where r u? U ok?
He could always count on the youngest member of the team. Over the years, Dorian
had become his best friend. He exchanged a series of instant messages.
BrowncoatMal: home Slept late.
GayDor: k Kota pissed.
BrowncoatMal: I know.
GayDor: Want me to come by later?
BrowncoatMal: Nah not much company.
GayDor: K Lemme know
BrowncoatMal: thanx
Dragging a hand down his face, Mal rolled off the couch, then puttered around the
kitchen to pull together some ingredients. He tossed chunks of turkey, sliced plums, celery,
scallions and plain Greek yogurt together in a bowl. Dipping a finger along the edge, he
tasted it. He added a dash of salt, curry powder, cumin and smoked paprika. Finishing, he
laid some baby lettuce on two tortillas and scooped the mixture on both. He refilled his glass,
cleaned the mess, then carried dinner to the living room. He plopped back down, picked up
his remote, and turned on his favorite series.
“Come on, Captain Mal, get me outta this funk with your gorgeous snarky-ness,” Mal
muttered to the television as the opening credits rolled across the screen.
* * * *
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Returning to Delights the next afternoon for prep, Mal checked his phone to make sure
he was on time. He was ahead of schedule. He shoved his things in his locker and went to
find where everyone was. Hearing laughter in the back office, he headed down the hall. He
tapped on the frame.
Sitting together in the old office chair behind the big desk, Dakota held Samuel across
his lap. Their lips were red and cheeks flushed, and he knew what they were doing. Mal
cleared his throat again.
“Mal, there you are and on…” Dakota stopped.
“Hey there, sorry about last night, I wasn’t feeling so good,” Mal said as he leaned
against the door frame, hands tucked in his pockets.
“Mal? Where’re the blue tips?” Samuel scrambled off Dakota’s lap, slapping Dakota’s
hands when he tried to stop him. He rounded the desk to stop by Mal.
“I decided to change and rinsed out the color.”
“Why? You were a good-looking Smurf.”
“I wanted a change.”
“What color are you going to use next?”
“Don’t know. I’m thinking about keeping it this way for a bit.”
Samuel glanced back at Dakota then turned back to him. “You seem a little down, are
you feeling okay? You’re not one to miss a shift.”
“Don’t know. I may be coming down with something,” Mal said.
“Do you want to head back home and take a few days off?”
“No, I’d rather keep busy. Not much to do at home.”
“Are the Browncoats not helping you?” Dakota called out from his chair.
Mal shook his head.
Samuel glanced between them, lifting an eyebrow in a silent question.
“I’m a loyal fan and follower of the Joss Whedon series Firefly,” Mal explained.
Samuel blinked.
“Have you seen an episode or heard about it?”
“I’m not much for television shows and movies,” Samuel admitted. “If I have quiet
time, I’m listening to music or reading a book.”
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“Okay, it’s a damn good series that got canceled well before its time.”
“Sorry to hear it.”
“So are all of the loyal followers. Anyway, it’s my favorite show and I dress up in the
costumes and stuff when I go to a convention.” Mal cleared his throat. “What do you want
me to get on for prep?”
Dakota rested his hands on the desk. “Sure you wanna stay tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ll clean the kitchen too since I skipped my shift.”
“It can—”
“No, it can’t. I’ll handle it.”
“Okay. Start getting the seafood chowder base going.”
“Do you want onions, carrots, parsnips and celery?”
“Hold the celery. Yes, on the first three. There’s a container of fresh seafood broth in the
cold storage. Use it for the roux. I want the roux a sand color, not too dark.”
“No problem.” Mal rapped the frame with his knuckles and returned to the kitchen. He
passed Sully and his crew.
Sully did a double-take. “Are you feeling okay, Mal?”
“Yup. How about you? How’s tear-down?”
“We’re making progress, ready for some subs to come in and do their checks and
suggestions.” Sully tilted his cap back and scratched a spot on his temple. “Lemme know if
anything is bugging you.”
“Will do, but I’m good.” Mal turned into the kitchen. Giving his hands a thorough
wash, he snagged his apron and pushed a cart to the cold fresh storage.
* * * *
As he’d promised for missing his shift, Malcolm stuck around while Dakota left to find
Samuel. He waved the others out of the door, letting them know that he would handle the
final evening clean-up. He plugged his iPhone into the stereo system and chose an energizing
playlist to keep him moving through the night. Turning up the volume, he headed to the
utility closet. It had been a while since he’d cleaned the entire kitchen.
“Want some help?”
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Mal leaned out of the closet and saw Dorian standing in the back door, removing and
hanging his jacket.
“Don’t you need to leave and see to your mom?”
“I don’t need to rush home. Thanks to Samuel’s help, we hired a brilliant evening nurse.
I called and let her know I was sticking around a little later. I sent dinner home earlier,”
Dorian said as he rolled his sleeves. “You can’t do this alone. You’ll be here all night. The
guys in the back prep area left a disaster.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Mal said. “This is Dakota’s favorite punishment.”
“He does have the perverse pleasure of doling this out to everyone at least once a
month. I never knew you to get on his bad side.” Dorian tilted his head. “Why did you
volunteer for this?”
“I’ve been on the bad end of his temper a few times. I didn’t volunteer. When I didn’t
call him, he told me I was on cleaning duty. I accepted it.”
“You never walk out on prep and miss an entire shift.”
“I needed to get away for a couple of hours and clear my head,” Mal said.
“Why?”
“Guy troubles.”
“Ah, I see.” Dorian pulled his eyebrows together in a furrow. “Wait, I think I do.” He
shrugged. “Who knows? All I know is a part of me wants some trouble, but I would need a
guy first. It’s kinda hard to have guy troubles without a guy by your side.”
“Sometimes they’re not worth having around for all the troubles and aggravation.”
“Yeah, but I want to experience it before I kick over.” Dorian pulled out a second steam
mop, filled it with water, then plugged it in to heat the reservoir.
“You’re still…”
“Yup, I haven’t been kissed at the ripe age of nineteen. Why is everyone passing up on
this gorgeousness?” Dorian gestured with a woebegone face. “I’m so pathetic, huh?”
“No, you’re a fabulous, wonderful young man. You’re trying to be careful with your
heart. The right one will come along.”
“When he does, I’ll be so unpracticed and give him a sloppy, slobbery kiss. It’ll be
horrible! So not cool.”
“Guess you need to find a few frogs to kiss before you catch a prince.”
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“Bleah!” Dorian made a scrunched up face and shook his head as he moved to another
section of the kitchen.
Leaning against the counter for a moment, Mal watched the younger man. “You don’t
have to do this.”
“I know, but we’re best friends so I’m sticking around. Perhaps, at some time, you can
tell me what the hell happened to you. ‘Cause you’re so not your bubbly self and your hair is
back to natural.” Dorian leaned over and flicked one of the locks. “I don’t know about this
new hairstyle, it doesn’t suit you. We should know how to present ourselves.”
“What is up with all the questions about my hair? I went natural for a bit to give my
hair a break from all the chemicals.”
“You never go natural.”
“What? I’ve done it before.”
“When you’re depressed and seriously in a bad mood you go colorless. I don’t want to
think about you being lost in a depression. You wouldn’t let me hang out with you last night.
When you do show up, you volunteered to do the shit job. What is happening with you? As
your BFF, I gotta know.” Dorian shook his head. “You’re going to stick with the story of ‘guy
troubles’ and leave it there with no explanation.”
“Yup.”
After throwing his hands in the air as if he was a total diva, Dorian shoved them on his
hips and tapped his foot.
“Not going there.” Mal looked at the top of the typical evening cleaning list, checked off
by every crew who followed it each evening. He went to the grill, took up the wire brush,
and scrubbed hard until the steel shone.
“Not sweet, Mal, not good.”
“I know, but things are messed up in my head. Until I figure it out there, I don’t know
what else to do.”
“I don’t know if I wanna be your BFF anymore.”
“Would you give up all chances at future first dibs of my flourless chocolate cake and
chocolate lava cake? What if you drop me as your BFF?”
“Shit,” Dorian said. “I’ll keep you around, if only for the chocolate.”
“Of course, we’re together for the chocolate,” Mal agreed.
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“Until I learn all the secrets of creating those cakes.” Dorian danced away, almost
bouncing on his toes with excess energy. “I’ll go stack up the dishwasher and gather the
laundry.”
“Thanks, D.”
“I don’t mind. Unlike everyone else, I enjoy this part of the day, cleaning and preparing
for the next. A natural end to things and it burns off any lingering energy. At least we don’t
fry a lot of crap.”
Mal snorted. “Dakota would drop dead before he turned to frying his meals. He hates
frying clams and shrimp and tries to avoid putting them on the menu. He declares it isn’t
healthy, nutritious, and part of his fresh food meals.”
“I can see him saying it.”
“If you want to hear it first-hand, go ahead and ask.”
“Ahh… No.”
When another song played on the list, Dorian raced over and cranked the volume
higher. “Is this your phone plugged in?”
“Yeah, I chose one to get us moving through this chore.”
“Awesome list!” Singing along with Bon Jovi, Dorian twirled, snatching towels and
aprons left behind by the crew. He dangled and swirled a towel as he danced.
“Is this something I don’t know about you?”
“I must confess,” Dorian said stopping with a slow bow. “I’m a closet and shower stall
singer.”
Mal couldn’t help but laugh at Dorian’s enthusiasm. He yanked in a sharp breath when
Dorian tugged him into a crazy dance. They boogied down, showing off moves they brought
to the clubs.
“You mentioned how we need to hit the clubs. We need to set a date,” Dorian said.
“I know. I know. I’ve wanted the same thing to drag me out of this funk.”
“Have you decided when we’ll go? Being the older man and everything, I figure you’ll
want the choice.” Dorian bumped hips with Mal.
“I know, sheesh, you’re a pest.” Mal turned their grip and spun Dorian around. “How
about this weekend?”
“I’m off from the Saturday night shift.”
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“Same here. We’re going Saturday. We’ll have to go early.”
“Awesome.” Dorian spun away to toss the laundry in the machines along with the
bleach and detergent. He filled the industrial dishwasher with silverware, plates, glasses and
pots. He poured the required cleaner and set the machine.
Mal moved on from scrubbing, to picking up several chamois cloths and a bottle of
sanitizer. He wiped down all the lines and prep areas, gathering stray bits of debris. He
gathered the various cutting boards and gave them to Dorian for the next dishwasher round.
Returning to the lines, he washed and sanitized everything.
All the while, they continued to sing and dance.
Deep into the cleaning, Mal spun with the steam mop, singing lyrics from yummy
singer, Marc Cohn, but stopped short when he caught sight of someone in the doorway. He
saw a smiling Reece leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
Dorian didn’t have the same problem. He breezed out from his area and called out,
“Hey, Reece, what’s happening?”
Swallowing hard after meeting the man’s stare, Mal turned to concentrate on another
section of the floor with the steam billowing around him.
“I had a late night meeting with the other guys. What’s happening here?”
Dorian spun and wiggled his ass with a laugh. “We’re doing the cleaning dance. It’s an
awesome round of exercise.”
“Enjoy it, kid. By the time you hit my age, you’re creaking and hurting,” Reece said
with a laugh.
“Oh, you’re not old. You’re not much older than Mal.” Dorian looked at Mal. “Right,
Mal?”
“Don’t know about him, I’m twenty-six,” Mal said.
“Okay. How about you, Reece?” Dorian asked.
“Thirty-four,” Reece said.
“Oh. See, not even a full decade older,” Dorian said, waving a hand to dismiss the
difference. “Old man, shit, I don’t believe it. I’m sure you can do all this cleaning. It’s a whole
lot better than moving a frigging boulder over a ton.”
“I’ll stick to my dirt and plants,” Reece said. “I’m not a dummy. I break out the heavy
machinery to move the frigging huge boulders.”
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Dorian laughed.
Mal grumbled as they continued their conversation.
Reece didn’t move away from the kitchen. He stepped farther inside and asked, “How’s
your mom doing, D?”
“She has good days and bad ones.”
“Did you find the nurse you mentioned?”
“Yes, Samuel helped us get a nurse for the day and another for night to help her with
personal things. Mom didn’t want me to do it anymore, saying it was no place for a son to
wash his mom.” Dorian gave a shrug. “I did what was necessary.”
“You did it because you love her.” Reece walked closer and leaned against a counter.
“We didn’t talk about it earlier. How are the bills? Need help?”
Dorian glanced at Mal and moved his fingers together.
“D, what do you need? We’re here to help,” Reece said, stepping forward and laying
his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. “Talk to us.”
“Why haven’t you mentioned needing some help?” Mal turned to stare at his best
friend. “Come on, bud. I told you about this.”
“I’m sorry, I hate asking. You all know I hate having to ask for help,” Dorian said,
rubbing the back of his neck. He swallowed several times, his Adam’s apple bobbling as he
tried to hold back the pain of admitting something. “We’re running behind on the mortgage,
but I’m catching it up. I spoke with the bank and they’ll waive the late fees.”
Reece squeezed Dorian’s shoulders. “There’s no need. I’ll take care of it in the morning,
okay? Is the mortgage with the same bank?”
Dorian nodded, eyes brimming with tears. He stepped forward and threw his arms
around the powerful man. “Thanks, Reece.”
“It’ll be okay. You’re in a rough patch with all those medical bills piling up on you. You
need to tell us before things get to the point of crippling late fees. Everyone needs help at one
time. We’ll help you out,” Reece said. He lifted his gaze and met Mal’s worried one.
The buzzing of the dishwasher broke through the emotional moment.
Dorian rubbed a hand across his nose and eyes, then gave them a smile. “Ugh. Dishes
are done. I gotta load up another set.”
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“Keep your chin up, Dorian,” Reece reassured him. “Stay strong for your mom and
yourself. The good times will come along. Okay?”
Dorian gave them his sunny smile then raced away to empty the dishwasher.
With a shake of his head, Mal went back to pushing the steam mop across the floor.
“I’m sorry about my earlier distance. I’m not used to refusals. Usually, I’m sure of the
answer before I ask. The morning was…” Reece swallowed as he trailed his thumb along the
edge of the counter.
Mal tried to finish his thought. “Completely out of whack?”
“On top of a chaotic few days at my office, yes. I reacted wrong.”
“No, I brushed it off as a request to fix what happened.”
Mal looked over his shoulder at the landscaper. Smudges of sweat, dirt, and something
else streaked across Reece’s temple. The smudge helped define Reece and his love of nature.
“Part of it was my fault too. So… What do we do about it?”
“Try again?”
Wrapping his hands over the handle, Mal leaned against it. “Why should I believe you?
You don’t even know my name or that I even exist.”
“I wasted a shit load of time to be able to do this…” Reece stepped closer until his hips
brushed against Malcolm’s ass and he wrapped a hand around Malcolm’s waist.
Mal shivered when he felt warm breath against his ear and neck. He licked his lip at the
feeling of this powerful man pressing against him.
What the hell is happening?
“I want the chance to know everything about you. I’ll figure out a way to know you—
likes, hates and everything. Give me a chance.” Reece rubbed their lips together. “Please.”
Mal shuddered with those intense words, felt himself being spun around and backed
against the nearest hard surface. The mop handle dropped with a harsh snap. Reece slid one
long arm around his waist and kept him upright. Mal felt his knees were about to go limp.
He slid against the flat abdomen, the hard ridge of an interested cock and long thighs. He
held back a moan when his cock realized what was happening and hardened, pressing
against the zipper and Reece’s bulge. Reece cupped another hand around the back of Mal’s
head to hold him still, at the utter mercy of the kiss. Hot breath caressed his throat and chin,
and he moaned at the sensation.
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Reece clamped down his lips upon Mal’s with such a ferocity and need, Mal was
helpless to do anything but respond. He clung to Reece’s broad shoulders and dug his
fingers into the muscle. He tried to keep himself upright as his knees went to mush. Reece
slid his fingers through Mal’s short hair and devoured his lips. Those tender lips dragged a
heated line along his jaw.
Holy shit! Reece knows how to kiss.
“Reece…”
The spring green eyes sparkled with need and desire. Reece lowered his lips for another
deep, tongue-tangling kiss. Mal could taste the mint and coffee flavors upon Reece’s lips. He
licked his puffy lips and stared into Reece’s gaze.
One long, calloused finger traced the edge of Mal’s ear and cheekbone. “You’re damn
beautiful, Malcolm. I don’t think I’ll ever be quite done touching you.”
Mal reached back to clutch the counter.
Before he could speak, Reece straightened and left the room. Mal’s breathing was
ragged. He touched his puffy lips with shaky fingers.
“Mal? Mal, what happened? Are you okay?” Dorian appeared in front of his view,
snapping his fingers, and tapping Mal’s cheek. “Mal!”
“He… He…”
“What happened? Did Reece hurt you?”
“He touched me. He talked to me. He wants a chance.” Mal figured out how to swallow
past the lump in his throat, blinked, then turned his gaze to Dorian, seeing a wide smile curl
his friend’s lips.
“Well, shit, you scared the shit outta me. Hey, wait a minute,” Dorian said, tugging on
Mal’s hand and stared. “He kissed you!”
“He devoured me.”
“Score! He likes you,” Dorian teased then danced away.
Mal stayed in the same spot.
What the hell happened?
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Chapter Five
After taking a few days to inspect the entire property from beach to road, Reece laid out
the plan for removal of the overgrowth. He gathered the crews and materials needed to dig
the Charm out of the vegetation. To keep up with Sully’s timing, Reece needed to kick-start
the clean-up crews. Things weren’t going as fast as he wanted and he needed to figure out a
new course of action. Reece pulled out his walkie-talkie to connect to certain crew members.
He wanted things to continue fast and heavy to clear the path to the old owner’s cabin and
figure out what machinery to order.
He moved to where a trio of guys braved the overgrowth with a harsh swatch of the
powerful, loop handle trimmers. They wore heavy-duty work gloves, high work boots
secured tight to pants, long-sleeved shirts, ear protection and goggles to protect them from
the flying debris. Another part of the crew followed the trimmers to clear more with several
handsaws and heavy leverage pruning shears. The third set waited to begin the massive
clean-up and destruction of the overgrowth.
Other than all the debris, no one was sure what kind of critters and bugs lived within
the heavy brush. Some kind of snake could go flying and be pissed off or they could hit a
nest of fire ants or other biting bugs. While they moved, everyone knew to tread careful
around wildlife. Not all the critters in Florida got along with humans. It was one of Reece’s
hard rules to all of his crews—watch out, protect, and respect nature’s beauty in both flora
and fauna.
Reece glanced to the side when Sully wandered over to him. “Morning, Sully.” He
grinned when Sully handed him a steaming cup of coffee.
“Figured you need one of these,” Sully said.
“I do. I didn’t have time to stop at the Shoppe.” He took a long, grateful sip. “This hits
the spot.”
“Dakota does know how to brew a damn good pot of nirvana.”
“You’re right. Nothing beats a hot cup of coffee to wake your ass up.”
“Aren’t we being all nostalgic and shit?”
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“Shad-up.”
Sipping from his cup, Sully watched the men at work. “What’s up with the whole crew
with the electric trimmers and the old-fashioned shears? Don’t have enough trimmers for
everyone to use?”
“No, you idiot, haven’t you seen us work?”
“Not in this kind of overgrowth.”
“I don’t know if there’s anything around Shore Breeze similar to this place. No trimmer
or mower has come near this place in decades. It’s close to becoming a freaking jungle—at
least a Florida version. Compared to what is waiting for us from the street, this is going to be
on the simple end. I’m afraid of what could be waiting out there,” Reece said, nodding
toward the direction of the street and driveway.
“Yeah, you may want to take a bulldozer to both sides and start from scratch.”
“Good idea and it’s one I’m seriously considering. It all depends on what I’ll be up
against.”
“What’s going to be your process in cleaning this disaster? Do you have one?”
“Yeah, I pulled one together, but it’s going to need a vast revision since things are way
overgrown and tangled.” Reece tucked his free hand in a pocket. “We use the trimmers to
start the job, get rid of the top overgrowth and get us down to where we can see the branches
and any possible critters.”
“Not the slithering ones. I don’t want to deal with them.” Sully did a full body shudder
at the thought of encountering one of Florida’s many snake species. They all gave the brawny
carpenter the creeps. “I don’t like snakes.”
“I can’t believe you’re scared of an itty bitty snake.”
“You try having a hissing one drop out of nowhere around your shoulders in an empty
house and see how you react.”
“I heard you did a banshee scream and ran like hell.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.”
“I take it you never watch the scene in Indiana Jones and Raiders of the Lost Ark. You
know, the one where he looks over the edge into the dark pit they opened.”
“Yeah and the floor moves.” Sully shuddered. “I plug my ears and close my eyes.”
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Reece laughed. “Okay. I’ll make sure my guys chase away all the evil snakes. We’ll
keep a look out for all different critters that made their homes around here.”
“Good.”
“Once the top layers are broken down, we go in with the long shears to remove the
thinner branches and foliage. By the time we attack the thicker branches and stumps, we’ll
break out more tools. Did you see if a wood chipper and dumpster were delivered?”
“They’re bringing them down the road. I told them to set up at the end of the gravel
driveway.”
“We’ll chip all of this down for easy transport and use in fertilizer and mulch.”
“Should we do the same with the cabin?”
“Depends on what we find, but we can salvage whatever we can use. Perhaps some will
be in good enough shape to use in the new cabin—a bit of old in a bit of new is a big design
thing,” Reece said.
“It means take-down will be longer than using a back hoe or something. Still, it’ll be
worth something if we can salvage a bit of the Charm’s history. We’re planning on
renovating the front hall and desk system. We’ll find ways to use the reclaimed wood.”
Reece walked over and placed a hand on the nearest trunk. “Too bad some of these
beauties need to go. Storms or disease damaged most of them. They haven’t been tended to
in decades.”
“What do we do with them?”
“Knock most over with a bulldozer and chop them for wood or chips. If I can, I’ll have
others dig around their root ball to save and transplant them elsewhere. I’m hoping to save
what we can. The rest can either be sent to a mill or mulched.”
“Hey, Sully,” someone called out.
“Gotta go, man,” Sully said and they knocked fists together.
“Talk later.”
“Lunch.”
Reece waved a hand and moved to where his crew was working.
* * * *
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Rushing around to set out the peach barbecue-pulled brisket, coleslaw, crusty rolls and
other side dishes for the various crews working around the Charm, Mal turned and slammed
hard against a tall body.
“Oh, sorry.” Reece wrapped his hands around Mal’s upper arms, holding him steady.
“Didn’t we do this before?” Mal asked as he lifted his gaze to meet Reece. He raised an
eyebrow at the odd coincidence.
Reece laughed. “Yeah. At least neither of us has a cold beverage.”
“True. True.”
“Are you okay?”
“In a rush, that’s all, not paying attention.”
“I enjoy catching up with you. It’s quite delightful,” Reece teased. His skin had streaks
of dirt and sweat after working outside all morning. At some point, he had shed the long-
sleeved shirt he wore to protect himself from branches and debris to a screen-printed gray T-
shirt. Thanks to the heat of the day, the cotton clung to his chest.
Swallowing, Mal took another step back, but Reece held him in place.
“Hang on, look out, they’re coming through,” Reece said and tugged him close as
several burly members of the crews rushed for the food. “Hungry workers can stampede
without a care for anything around them.”
“I’m used to it,” Mal said. “Excuse me. I need to finish.”
“Would you like some help?”
“No, please, enjoy your meal. I know you worked hard this morning. I’ll be good.” Mal
moved around Reece to return to the kitchen.
“Hey, Malcolm…”
Mal turned his head when Reece called his name.
“You’re looking good.”
Mal glanced down at his outfit, most of it hidden by a long white apron. “Uhh.
Thanks.”
“If you get a chance, come and eat with us. I hope to see more of you later, but wanted
to let you know how you rock the apron look.”
Mal swallowed hard and shifted his weight to relieve the pressure against his fly.
Distracted, he turned and banged into another person. “Really?”
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“Ow…”
“Sorry. Sorry, Dorian,” Mal said when he realized whom he’d collided with this time.
Behind him, he heard Reece laughing at his predicament. He flashed a bird toward Reece.
“What’s up, Dorian?”
“Can I grab some of the lunch for Mom? I’ll drop it off early so we can get a head start
across the bridge since the club is gonna be packed. I hope we can get in,” Dorian asked. He
wiggled and slid into a couple of steps. “I can’t wait to hit the dance floor. Are we going
tonight?”
“There’s extra inside. Take whatever you want.” Mal sighed at the hopeful look on
Dorian’s face. “Yeah, we’re going tonight.”
“Awesome. What time do you want me over?”
“Be at my place at six. I mean the actual six, not seven, which is Dorian time for six.”
“Sheesh, late one little time and I never get the end of it.” Dorian danced back into the
building.
“Are you going to the clubs?”
At Reece’s voice, Mal turned to stare at him “Were you listening to our conversation?”
“Maybe I overheard something. Are you going?” Reece asked.
Mal stared as Reece licked sauce from his thumb. He felt his cock harden at the sight,
wondering what Reece’s mouth would feel like wrapped around his dick. “Yeah, Dorian and
I are going to Mann’s Club to indulge in some hot, sweaty dancing. It’ll be crazy busy
tonight, so we need to leave early.”
“It’s a good place to indulge.”
“We’ve been there before.”
“Hope you both have fun and be careful.”
“We know what we’re doing. Excuse me, I should help Dorian and dish up more food.”
Confused as all hell throughout everything, Mal wandered back in the kitchen.
* * * *
After standing in line, Mal and Dorian walked deep inside the Mann’s Club. With
drinks in hand, they pressed amongst the nameless sweaty dancers on one of three large
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dance floors. Losing himself in the pulse-pounding, throbbing dance music, Mal let his body
flow free, almost liquid, to the beat. He loved to dance.
Comfortable with Dorian as a partner, friendly and not sexual, they could step in, grind
and move against each other. Their arms tangled, lifted and twirled.
“Hey, cutie, wanna dance?” someone asked in his ear, stepping in closer.
“Only a dance tonight,” Mal said.
“No problem. Dance away. You and your cute friend.”
Dorian spun and wiggled his fingers at the stranger.
Several songs played. Sweat gathered upon their bodies. The stranger ground a little
harder against Mal. His hands moved to grab Mal’s cock.
Spinning and catching the man’s wayward hand after its third trip south, Mal tossed it
away. Disgruntled by the change in the man, Mal flicked him away. “I said dance only. Find
someone else.”
“Cold buzzard,” the man said. “Why you let me waste my time when you won’t give
me anything?”
“I told you earlier it was a dance only.”
“Sure you don’t want to change your mind. I want to see you on your knees, sucking
my cock.”
“Umm. Let me think.” Mal tapped a finger against his chin. “How about a hell fucking
no?”
“Little ice bitch,” he said then slid away into the crowd to find a more agreeable partner
and fuck buddy.
“Un-fucking-believable. Where do they come from? Mars? No… Uranus.” With a shake
of his head at the bastard’s behavior, Mal moved off the floor for a break and refreshment.
He dragged his sweaty hair from his face and looked around for Dorian.
Dorian pushed his way through the crowd with a pair of drinks in his hands. “Hey,
sorry, the bars are crazy busy. It took a while to make it through the crowd at the bar and
had another wait to get a bartender,” Dorian said. “Why did we come on a Saturday?”
“More potentials to look at?”
“Yeah.” Dorian looked around. “Hey. Where’s the hottie?”
Mal gave him a dark look.
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“What did he say?”
“Didn’t say much, but was all grabby hands and I couldn’t stand it. He wanted more
than I’m willing to give tonight. I flicked him loose and he was nasty. What a jerk,” Mal said,
before drinking half of the contents to replenish his body. “Why the hell do we attract the
bastards? I’m cute. I’m free. I don’t want to be a random fuck buddy in a back stall. It’s not
my interest or on my to-do list tonight.”
“I don’t know. I wish I could have a dance with a hottie and a potential for more. I’m
getting desperate and whiny.”
“Don’t whine. You’ll never get anywhere.”
Dorian pouted.
“No, that’s not going to help either.”
Groaning, Dorian banged his forehead against Mal’s shoulder. “Why? Why? Oh, please,
can the glorious gods of gay love find me a respectable, employed and hawt man?”
“Don’t think they’re listening, you gotta try elsewhere, buddy. Where did you get the
drinks?
“I got them for free.”
“How did you accomplish this rare feat?”
“An older fella liked my ass.”
“Are the drinks all he gave you?”
“I got a compliment, his business card and a slap on the ass. I didn’t mind the slap. Not
sure about the card, he’s a little old for my type. I don’t want a Daddy lover.” Dorian grinned
as he drank his Red Bull mix.
“Smart pup.”
“I know. Still, I’m a lonely pup with an aching cock. I need some relief.”
“You’ll get a chance.”
“When?”
“Grow up a few more years. You’re still a teenager, Dorian, have some fun. You earned
it,” Mal said before he took another few sips. After finishing the drink, he returned to the
crowd, lifted his hands then moved to the music. Closing his eyes, he lost himself to the
rhythm and sway of his body.
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Another pair of large hands covered his hips. He felt the tall frame of another man
stepping behind him, a hefty-sized cock pressed against his ass and lower back. Opening his
eyes, Mal looked forward. Dorian was staring wide-eyed above Mal’s head. Intrigued by the
kid’s reaction, he twisted his head and stared up into a pair of familiar spring green eyes.
“What the hell…?”
“Hello, Mal, I kept thinking about the clubs since we talked. I wanted to come dancing
and get loose and relaxed. It’s been a long frigging week and I figured we all need a break to
have some fun.” Reece wrapped his hand farther around Mal’s waist, bringing them even
closer. He widened his stance to accommodate their movements and turns without
overpowering Mal’s natural talent. “You’re one helluva dancer.”
“I didn’t think you were coming. Are you alone?”
“Nah, when I mentioned it to Dakota, he joined in and brought Samuel, who wanted to
check out the nightlife to add to his notes. They’re somewhere around here.”
“Dakota and Samuel are here?”
“Sully tried to entice Chandler, but he can’t handle crowds, so they’re watching a bunch
of movies.” Reece leaned over as he pressed his pelvis to Mal’s tight ass. He flattened his
hand down the side of Mal’s thigh as they moved and flowed together. He nuzzled the man’s
sweaty neck.
Dorian swung away and found someone else to partner.
Reece moved his fingers along the waistband of the tight black pants clinging to Mal’s
lower body. “Damn. I love how these pants are shaping your ass and cock. I’m gonna wanna
see you up close and personal in these babies when we’re alone.” As he spoke those
scintillating words, he managed to slide his thumb between cloth and skin.
“What are you doing?”
“Dancing.”
“You’re feeling me up.”
“Don’t argue or complain when you’re enjoying my touch.”
“Crap.”
Reece laughed and hugged Mal as the DJ continued to fill the club with music.
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The song choice blended into Christina Aguilera’s club hit, Let There Be Love, and there
were scores of squeals and screams. Reece watched Mal as Christina’s gorgeous, rich voice
poured through the speakers, teaching everyone why gay males loved and adored her music.
Mal closed his eyes and bounced on his toes. He let himself go as he joined in the iconic
singer’s lyrics.
Around them, shirts flew everywhere while men grabbed each other and ground cocks
and asses together.
To Reece’s disappointment, Mal kept his shirt in place. Not leaving him alone, Reece
pressed against Mal’s back. Mal ground his ass against Reece’s groin and continued to dance.
They melded and moved to the pounding rhythm.
“Can’t believe how good you feel against me. You know how to dance and make the
most of your body. If you were on stage, no one would dare turn away from your
performance,” Reece whispered in Mal’s ear over the music. He kept his voice low and
seductive. He trailed his fingers down Mal’s chest and felt him shiver.
After dancing to a few more songs together, Reece took Mal by the hand and tried to
tug him off the dance floor.
Mal kept in his place. “What are you doing?”
“Let’s get a break and something to drink. I’m getting all hot and bothered.”
“Isn’t the point of dancing to get all hot and sweaty?” Mal’s eyes were bright with
energy and excitement.
“It’s time to cool down a bit before we hit it again.”
“Sheesh.”
“Please? I don’t want to go alone,” Reece said.
“You’re a big boy.”
“Don’t want someone else to step into my place with you.”
With a shake of his head, Mal followed him toward the bar for refreshments.
Thanks to his height, he saw Dakota hovering around Samuel and a bouncing Dorian
next to them. He turned in their direction.
“Whoa there… A little too much of a stretch,” Mal said as he lifted their linked hands
for another to duck under them.
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“Hang on. Lemme try this,” Reece said, shifting to push Mal ahead of him when the
press of the crowd threatened to separate them. He wrapped one arm around Mal’s waist as
he guided them through the press of sweaty bodies. “How’s this?”
“Better.”
“Crowd is getting crazy,” Reece said.
“This is normal for a Saturday night. Lots of hook-ups are happening and getting
secured before the dance floor goes dark and the doors shut. They’ll get worse as the night
winds down and alcohol and hormones are running through them,” Mal said then nodded to
Samuel, who waved back, looking a little out of place in plain blue jeans and a tight shirt.
When he stopped next to him, Mal chuckled and tugged on the shirt. “Is this new?”
“Yes, Dakota got it for me since he said I have no club clothes,” Samuel said, rolling his
eyes, and nudging Dakota’s ribs with his elbow.
“Better than the button-down shirt you were thinking about wearing here,” Dakota
said, drinking from a bottle of Sam Adams lager.
Everyone laughed at the playful couple.
“What do you want to drink?” Reece asked Mal when he’d got the attention of the busy
bartender.
“I’ll take a seltzer and lime.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s all he’s drinking since he’s driving and I’m underage,” Dorian said as he continued
to spring on his toes.
“How are you still bouncing? I don’t see a battery back-up added anywhere to your
outfit,” Samuel asked as he forced Dorian to turn as he checked him out.
Dorian laughed and batted Samuel’s hand away from him. “I get Red Bull shots with
cola. Love them! They make me happy and effervescent and feel sparkly. Oh, I feel so
sparkly.” Dorian twirled in place, lifting his hands over his head.
“You sure someone didn’t slip him something?” Reece pointed a thumb at the
laughing-like-a-loon Dorian.
“Nope, he gets high on a crap-load of caffeine and sugar,” Mal said.
“Day-uum,” Reece said.
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“Okay, bud, you’re cut off,” Mal said as he yanked Dorian to a stop. “You’re making
me dizzy watching you.”
Dorian stuck out his lower lip into a full pout. “Why?”
“You could Tigger-bounce all the way home.”
“I love me some Tigger.”
Dakota reached out and patted Dorian’s head. “We know. Mal, do you want us to take
him back? I could tie him to the deck of his place so he doesn’t carom away.”
“Nah, I got him. It’s time we should get out of here,” Mal said as he finished the last of
the seltzer water and lime.
“I don’t wanna,” Dorian said. “We have a couple of hours before the floor goes dark. I
wanna do lots more dancing.”
“We gotta work tomorrow, bud,” Mal said.
“Why must you leave?” Reece asked.
“Why must we leave?” Dorian repeated with a full-on pout.
Mal glared at Reece for revving Dorian up again.
Reece grinned, chuckled, then sipped from his glass of bourbon.
With a sigh, Mal turned back to Dorian and pointed to the door. “Get moving. Tigger
boy, we’re leaving. No more dancing.”
Dorian pouted. “Pweeze?”
“Really?”
With a shrug, Dorian picked up his Tigger-bounce. “I wanted to give it a shot.”
“It didn’t work.”
“This has been fun. We need to do this again. I want to see more of the nightlife options
so I can get information for the new promo material,” Samuel said.
“We’ll plan another night and come together. It’ll be awesome. You’ll love it around
here, Samuel. In the summer, parties and get-togethers happen all along the beaches and
clubs,” Mal said. “Are you ready to go, Tigger boy?”
“If we must go, yup and byes all!” Dorian wiggled his fingers as Mal grabbed the back
of his shirt.
Mal looked at Reece. “Thanks for bringing the others.”
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“Thanks for dancing with me,” Reece said, lifting his drink in a salute. “See you
tomorrow.”
Reece watched Mal drag a hopping Dorian away from their group. He dropped his
gaze to take in the fine ass. He wondered if he’d made a crack in the wall surrounding Mal’s
heart. He wanted to be the one walking away with Mal, looking forward to a long night of
sweaty sex, but left alone with a hard-on.
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Chapter Six
Needing a break after the club, Reece spent a few days weeding the office garden plots
and babying the houseplants. He contemplated what was happening with him and Malcolm.
He needed to take another step forward, but wasn’t sure what to do. After a couple of days,
he returned to the Charm.
Throughout the morning, he noticed flickering, jagged arcs split off from the sun. The
muscles along the back of his neck tightened into thick, taut cords of pain. There was also the
annoying tingling, prickling sensation growing across his face.
After pouring coffee from the large carafe Dakota had set out for the crews into his
large travel mug, Reece drank half of it and filled it again. He returned outside and winced
when the sunlight hit his face. Another larger flash crossed his vision. It caused spikes of
pain to dig into his temple. He slid his sunglasses up his nose to shade his eyes.
Determined to keep working, Reece kept the crews attacking the jungle with the
trimmers. They had almost finished clearing a path to the old cabin. He hated the delay in the
specialized mowers he had Emmy trying to rent to deal with the majority of the deep brush.
The gas mowers revved and whirled. The whining in the engines increased as the
machines cut through the heavy vegetation. Each rev sent additional shards into his skull.
Reece felt his stomach roll with unwanted nausea, ready to bring up his morning coffee in a
bad way. He rubbed his temple.
“Boss, are you okay?”
“Yeah. No. Not sure,” Reece said as another flash filled his vision. “Sam…”
“Simon, it’s Simon,” his on-site manager said. “Boss, do you want us to continue with
the trimmers? Is there any news about the mowers?”
“On their way… No. Delay.” Reece stopped and cursed.
“Boss?”
“Take charge,” Reece said, slowing his slurred speech to make sure he used the correct
words. “Ice picks… Head…”
“Do you have a migraine?”
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“Yeah. Need dark. Sleep.”
“I’ll take care of things, boss.”
Wobbly, Reece turned back to the Charm. He wouldn’t be able to drive home. Where
the hell had he left his meds? He couldn’t remember. Kicking off his dirty boots, he walked
away in his socks. Unsteady, he banged one shoulder against a corner. Coming off the
corner, he cracked his other shoulder against a frame.
“Fuck…” he cursed.
The pain was forgotten, though, when the picks turned into jackhammers digging
against his skull.
“Fuck me…”
Bracing a shoulder against the wall as he bent over, hand pressed against his aching left
eyeball and socket, he sucked in a moan. The throbbing intensified.
This migraine was going to be a doozy. Damn if he didn’t have his frigging rescue
medication.
Walking down a hall on the far side of the front desk, he passed the library and movie
room, then found the two empty bedrooms saved for walk-in guests during an overflow.
Owing to the construction, all of the first floor rooms were unlocked. They were smaller than
the rooms upstairs, but with a rare overflow, most guests didn’t mind the difference. Grateful
for the empty room, he headed inside, closed the door and leaned against it.
Several more ice picks added to the initial ones.
“Ahh, fuck…”
Pressing a hand against the numb skin, Reece felt the prickles gather around his eye
socket. The sensitivity increased as the nerves continued to misfire. He shuffled, banging his
shins against every harsh corner. He yanked the curtains to throw the entire room into
darkness. Finding the AC controls, he pushed the button to turn it down to icy-cold. When
the machine kicked in, he winced at the whine. He returned toward the bed and dragged off
his clothes. Before he’d finished undressing, the nausea flared. He raced to the bathroom.
Making it in time, he dropped to his knees and wretched violently into the toilet. The
coffee burned coming back up.
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When the horrendous wave had stopped, he curled on the floor next to the toilet.
Throbbing stabs raced through his temple. Crying out, he crawled to the bed. Before he could
pull back the covers and climb in, the blackness swirled around him.
Yeah, this one is gonna be a doozy.
He collapsed next to the bed.
* * * *
Running around preparing lunch for the crews, Mal kept a lookout for a certain
handsome landscaper amongst the workers, but never saw him. He knew Reece was
somewhere—his old Cherokee was in the driveway. He often wondered why the man never
upgraded his old Jeep to a newer one.
After scooping the last of the prepared fajita mix into the container, Mal carried it out to
the waiting chafing dish. He set it in place then checked out the jasmine rice, the warmed
tortillas, mango salsa and other toppings to finish off the build-your-own fajita bar.
He heard Dakota whistle to give the all clear for lunch signal and rushed away from the
tables.
Waiting by the door, Mal looked for any sign of Reece. When Reece didn’t move
through the lunch line, he found Reece’s second-in-charge, Simon, and walked over to him.
“Hey, Mal, delicious lunch you cooked up today,” Simon said when he saw Malcolm.
“Good to know you’re enjoying it. We’re happy to cook for everyone. Umm. Where’s
Reece?”
“Reece? Oh… He left early this morning.”
“No, his Jeep is still here.”
Looking around, Simon rose and motioned Mal to follow. Curious as hell, Mal did as
beckoned. He leaned against a post and crossed his arms.
“What’s going on?”
“Reece slurred and acted weird. I think he’s getting a migraine.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He went somewhere to sleep off the pain.”
“Does he have medication?”
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“I don’t know. Probably doesn’t have it on him.”
“You didn’t go searching for him.”
“When he gets a migraine, he wants to be left alone.”
“Stupid.” Mal pushed past Simon and raced inside. He looked around the lower floor
and heard something strange in one of the empty overflow rooms.
A rush of icy air rolled over him as he stepped inside. He shivered hard under the sharp
change in temperature. He flicked on the light switch to find a trail of clothes between the
bathroom and bedroom.
“Light… Fuck… Off…”
Sounds of violent retching moved Mal to hit the switch again. He walked farther inside,
closing the door, then followed the trail. The bathroom door was open. A glance inside and
he saw Reece hunched over the toilet. The man was shivering as his stomach emptied itself.
“Holy shit, Reece,” Mal said as he went to the sink. He dampened a washcloth with cool
water, wrung it out, then crouched next to Reece. He hit the flush to remove the obnoxious
odor. “Yuck…” He cupped a hand around Reece’s cheek and turned him.
The sight of the pale sweaty skin across Reece’s body scared him. He didn’t like the
appearance of his pinprick pupils.
Mal shifted until he could cuddle the man’s upper body. He encouraged Reece to lean
his head against his chest. Using the cloth, he wiped Reece’s face. “Shh. Shh. I’m here. You’re
not alone.”
“Mal… Go…”
“Shh. I’m not leaving you alone. Can we move you to the bed?”
“Pain…”
“Let’s get you off the tile.” Mal braced his shoulder under Reece’s arm. He wrapped his
arm around Reece’s back and gripped hold of his boxers. “I need you to help me.”
Pushing a hand on the tile, Reece got his feet underneath him and helped both of them
rise. He held an arm against his belly, and groaned as they shuffled. Mal guided them to the
bed and helped him to lie back. Reece moaned as Mal moved his legs on the bed. He curled
to his side and grabbed Mal’s hand.
“I’ll be right back. Hold on.” Mal squeezed Reece’s fingers back. He jogged to the
bathroom, dampened a new cloth, and grabbed the wastebasket. He wasn’t sure if Reece
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would throw up again. He set the basket down then sat on the edge of the bed, careful to not
jostle him. He placed the cool cloth across Reece’s temple.
“Mal…”
“I’m here. You’re not alone with the pain,” Mal said.
“Need a pill.”
“Where are they? I think you’re beyond the pill stage.”
“Need pill. Glove.”
“Are your pills in the glove compartment?”
“Yeah. Keys in jeans.”
“Okay. I’ll get them and be right back.” Mal leaned over and kissed Reece’s temple.
“Here’s a bucket.”
“‘Kay. Hurry.”
Mal moved off the bed at Reece’s plea, found the keys in the discarded jeans. He raced
to the Jeep before opening the glove compartment.
When a hand dropped on his shoulder, Mal gave a shout of surprise and whacked his
head on the door.
“Ow. Shit.”
“Mal? Is that you?”
Mal turned his head, rubbed the sore spot with his fingers, and stared at Sully. “Yeah.
It’s me.”
“What are you doing in Reece’s Jeep?”
“Help me find the medicine.” Mal scooped the contents on the floor. “I need to find the
pills.”
“What?”
“Reece has a migraine. We need to find his medication.”
“Shit,” Sully said, moving against Mal as they pawed through the pile. “Damn, Reece,
you need to clean this crap.”
“Later. Meds. Need meds. It’s bad…” Mal cheered when he grasped a blue plastic box.
He popped it open and saw three packets. “Got them! Lock up!” He tossed the keys in Sully’s
direction and raced back. He pushed past a surprised Dakota.
“What the…?”
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“Talk to Sully,” Mal said as he ran through the hallway to the door. He disappeared
inside, kicked off his shoes, then rushed to the bed. “Hey. Hey. I’m here.” He sat down,
brushed his fingers through Reece’s damp hair and adjusted the cloth.
Reece opened his eyes and winced with pain. “Mal…”
“I got the medication,” Mal said as he opened the blue box. He pulled out a packet,
opened it and found the interior pill capsule. He peeled off the back as Reece stuck out his
tongue. “Guess it’s a melt-away.”
“Hmm.”
Mal turned the plastic over and pressed the pill onto Reece’s tongue. Reece closed his
mouth. He set everything on the nightstand.
“Thanks,” Reece said and closed his eyes. “Don’t go…”
“I’m not leaving.” Mal removed his shirt and pants. He crawled over Reece and curled
behind him. He covered both of them with the sheet and blanket. Wrapping an arm around
the man’s waist, he cuddled Reece as he slept through the pain and symptoms. Mal prayed
that the medication worked.
* * * *
The ice picks dulled as the knots unwound and the throbbing lowered to a dull roar,
but didn’t disappear. Unknown time passed, but the warm body curled against his back
never moved, never faltered in giving him the silent comfort he needed.
Opening his eyes in a careful fashion, Reece blinked and stretched his arms and legs. He
rolled onto his back, felt someone move against him. A brunet head buried between his
shoulder and pillow. He reached out and played with a few soft locks.
Malcolm remained fast asleep.
Reece shifted again, bumping Mal around. Mal woke in bits and pieces. Those chocolate
eyes, dark and dreamy, opened and blinked. A small smile curled Mal’s lips.
Moving one arm until he braced his head on his raised hand, Mal stared down at Reece.
He placed his other hand flat on Reece’s bare chest. “Hey there. You’re starting to look better.
Your color is better. How are you feeling?”
“It’s starting to loosen, but not gone yet.”
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“Do you need another pill?”
“Yeah, I think another will help.”
“Are you allowed a second one?” Mal lifted and stretched his hand across Reece’s chest
to pick up his cell phone. He slid a thumb over the screen to check the time. “Hmm. It’s been
six hours since I found you.”
“It’s six in the evening?”
“Yup.”
“Shit… What about dinner?”
“Dakota knows what’s happening. He poked his head in a few hours earlier,” Mal said,
dropping the phone down. He pulled another packet from the box and repeated the earlier
procedure.
Letting the pill dissolve on his tongue, Reece dropped the packaging in the wastebasket.
“At least I didn’t have to use the basket.”
“Hmm. Appreciate it.”
“Belly calmed down. I’m stuck with the fucked up nausea every freaking time.” Reece
settled back against the pillow. He rubbed his thumb in firm, massaging circles around his
left temple.
“Do you want to stay here and sleep the rest of the night?”
“I’m in no shape to drive. The damn auras around every freaking headlight and
streetlamp will knock me for a loop. I’ll keep my sorry ass in bed.”
“Would you want something to eat or drink?”
“No. No. I’m good. You can head home and get something.”
Mal sat up and stared at him. “Do you want me to leave?”
Lowering his hand, Reece turned to stare at Mal. “No, I don’t want to be left alone.”
“Don’t tell me to go. I do want to grab a sandwich and drink, but I’m coming back.
Okay?”
“Yeah, thank you,” Reece said.
“No need to thank me,” Mal said. “You owe me big time.”
“Whatever you want…”
“I’ll figure out something we both want.” Mal chuckled as he rolled off the bed and
tugged on jeans. Reece took the chance to admire the lean ass in clingy boxer-briefs.
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“Definitely one helluva ass,” he said.
“Shake your booty,” Mal said as he shook it and secured his jeans.
Reece chuckled and moaned. “Shit. Don’t make me laugh.”
“Sorry. I’m going. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“I may be asleep.”
“It’s okay. You need sleep.” Mal went to the door, glanced back with the same soft
smile, then left the room.
Dropping an arm over his face, Reece let out a long groan. What the hell was happening
between them?
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Chapter Seven
Mal had comforted Reece throughout the entire attack, which had lasted for several
days. Reece had enjoyed his time spent in Mal’s arms. He wouldn’t wish the pain on anyone,
but it had been nice not to go through it alone. When they’d woken the last morning, things
had been a little different between them. Some of the tension had dissipated.
Working half days for the last two, Reece had spent the extra time in the kitchen
figuring out and designing the beginning ideas for the new landscaping with Samuel. They’d
bounced ideas off both Dakota and Mal.
During one of the conversations, Reece felt Mal playing footsie on their side of the
counter. He glanced at him, not sure how to respond. When their feet nudged again, he
couldn’t help but grin at the childish behavior.
“What is going on over there?” Samuel asked.
Mal chuckled next to Reece.
Reece shuffled papers around on the counter. He spun one diagram around to give
Samuel a better view and distract him. He reached out and goosed Mal’s ass.
Mal yipped at the squeeze. He batted at Reece’s hand.
“Okay. That’s it. You,” Dakota said, pointing at Mal, “hit the cooler, and rearrange the
stock.”
“What?” Mal squawked.
“Now,” Dakota said.
Mal smacked Reece as he stomped away to work.
“Back to business, please, before I need to clear you both out and finish lunch,” Dakota
said, tapping his finger on the diagram.
After watching Mal stalk off, Reece let out a soft chuckle. He cleared his throat and
returned his attention to the basic diagram.
Leaving Simon in charge to continue the tedious clear-out of overgrowth, vines, weeds
and other vegetation, Reece returned to his office to handle paperwork. Emmy handed over
several messages and faxes she’d received for him.
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Part of him continued to think back over the moments he’d spent with Mal. Damn, he’d
enjoyed watching Mal dance with fearlessness, radiating pure joy. After seeing the slender
body with the perfect ass wiggle and move, he hadn’t been able to ignore his feelings any
longer.
The night of the migraine had convinced him to take the chance. It was time for full-on
seduction mode now that the migraine had passed. He wanted Malcolm Bissette in his life.
Missed you the last few days, boss. Where ya been?” Emmy asked.
“Down with a migraine and had to crash at the Charm.”
“Ouch. Those suck.”
“Yeah, but I’m feeling better.”
“Looks like something else got you smiling and it’s more than cleaning the Charm,”
Emmy said as she placed a cup of coffee next to him.
“Thanks.” Reece continued to grin.
“Who put the smile on your face? It has to be a ‘who’.”
Reece glanced up from the page and lifted an eyebrow. “Prying into my love life.”
“You need a love life for me to pry into. I can always ask my brother.”
“He hasn’t been by the Charm so he wouldn’t know.”
“I’ll tell him to make a drop-by visit and poke his nose around.”
“You’ll order the sheriff around. I don’t know how he’ll handle orders from you.”
“When I give him orders, he’s not the sheriff. He’s my big brother I long ago wrapped
around my pinkie finger,” Emmy said with an almost evil feminine grin curling her glossy
lips. “He’s a pussy cat around my sister and me. He’s worse around our kids. A big old
marshmallow.”
“You’re a devious female. I’m gonna have to remember this wonderful blackmail
information on our good sheriff to use when I need something.”
She stared at her painted nails, rubbed them against her chest, then blew on them. “I’m
female. It’s part of our genetics. Don’t even dare try to use it because he would deny it until
the sky turns green.” Leaning forward, she propped her chin on her raised palm. “So. Who is
he?”
“No one you would know.”
“I know almost all the boys around here, especially at the Charm.”
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“Malcolm.”
“Mal Bissette? Are you talking about the cutie with the crazy colors in his hair who
works with Dakota in the kitchen? Oooh, he’s a dish. I heard he makes to-die-for chocolate
cakes.”
“Hmm, he’s the one.”
“Be careful playing with him, boss man. While he may put up a frivolous front, he’s
vulnerable under all those colors. He’s not one of those guys looking for a hot night of sex
and an empty bed in the morning.”
“I’ll figure it out as I get to know him better. Though I already had my balls threatened
with one of Dakota’s knives if I fucked up with Mal,” Reece said.
“Yikes.”
“Yeah, I kinda like them where they are so I know to behave myself.”
“Now it smacked you in the face about how good of a man he’s become.”
“Yeah, a harsh smack in the face and I hope I don’t screw it up with him,” Reece said.
“You do know, at the moment, he doesn’t have any colors.”
“What?”
“He washed out the color from his hair. He’s back to his natural reddish brunet. For me,
I enjoy seeing the natural look. It enhances his grace and elegant face.”
“Are you sure there’s no color?”
“Yeah, it’s been this way for the last week.”
“Oh dear, the no color means he could be a little on the depressed end of things.”
“He said about wanting a change to others.”
“Depends on how long he keeps it.” Emmy tapped some folders together as if to end
the personal conversation and return to business. “What do you need for the Charm? How’s
it coming along?”
“I’m pleased with the progress we’re making. We’re going to need to hire some larger
equipment to handle the job. The undergrowth is thicker than I expected and what we have
isn’t going to handle it.”
“How do we do it?”
“I’ll give you the name of a contact and a list of equipment to order. We’re going to start
with brush and shrub mowers. Are they still on delay?”
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“You’ll get them the beginning of next week.”
“Good. I want to time it around next week to fit within the schedule. We’ll need
workers trained to handle them.”
“What’s the finish date of the project?”
“I’m not sure. I know Samuel and Dakota want to reopen after the winter holidays and
have a spring opening. There’s a lot to do and I haven’t searched and investigated the
overgrowth from the road back.” Reece lifted the cup and sipped the dark brew.
“Would you bring in additional crew?”
“Once the Georgia project is finished, I want to add them to the Charm. The others need
to stay in the field for other clients in the pipe.”
“A lot of work.”
“Hmm, but it’s a good thing from when there wasn’t anything. I prefer being busy to
the point of either turning away clients or pushing their wishes to a later date on the
calendar. Most are accommodating to the offer.”
“Good to know. Look over and sign these invoices for payment, sign these checks, and
bring them back to me before you leave.”
Gathering the folders together, Reece tapped them and headed back to his office to
continue his day. Part of him wondered when he could steal time to court the handsome,
colorful man hiding in the Charm’s kitchen.
* * * *
Working his way to perfecting one of the new recipes he’d created with Dakota’s help,
Mal whisked the sauce a few more vigorous strokes. He dipped his finger into the sauce and
sampled it. His nose squished and wrinkled as he processed the layers of flavors.
“Not good?”
Turning away from the mixing bowl, Mal saw a barefoot, damp-haired six-feet-plus of
sexy carpenter standing in the doorway. Sully wore faded jeans with the finest of distressed
points in the yummiest of places and one of his crazy gay T-shirts saying—I ‘heart’ Gay Boys
& Glitter. He laughed at the shirt.
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“Good saying. I love glitter,” Mal said. “Nah, it’s not working out. There’s too much
vinegar. Need something sweet to balance it out. Dakota and I are tweaking the recipe, but it
doesn’t want to cooperate. There needs to be a better blend of flavors.”
Sully glanced down at his chest and grinned. “Thanks. This is one of my more sparkly
shirts.”
Mal headed to the pantry for the jar of local honey and called out, “What can I do for
you?”
“I need some help,” Sully said.
“What kind of help? I’m not much help outside of the kitchen.”
“Mal, you’re Dakota’s right hand.”
“I may be when we’re in the kitchen, sure, but outside, nope.”
“I’m sure there’s something.”
“I didn’t say it to get support and praise, Sully. Sorry. What did you need help with?”
Mal returned from the pantry with a small variety of different ingredients. He saw the big
man shuffling from one bare foot to the other.
Sully dragged a hand through his hair.
“Damn, you look uneasy. What’s going on with you?”
“It’s what happened with Chandler. Our date didn’t work out so well while we were in
town.”
“Uh-oh. What happened?”
“When I stepped away to speak with a client, Chandler went ahead to check out the
gallery and glass studio. We planned to meet up again at the café when I finished. It didn’t
happen so nice and organized. He was passing one of the alleys and some bastard threw a
bucket of muck over him. His glasses were crushed and he was knocked to the ground.”
“Oh damn, why the fuck do people keep wanting to hurt us? We don’t need to do a
thing to them, and they’re still bastards.”
“I don’t know.” Sully dropped onto a stool and lowered his head in his hands. His wide
shoulders shook with silent sobs.
“Is he okay?”
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“I managed to get him undressed, wrapped in a sheet, and bundled him in my truck.
Once upstairs, I helped him shower, but his OCD is out of control and making him think the
dirt is there. He’s in a bit of a panicky zone and pulled inside himself.”
“He was doing so well.”
“I know and I’m hoping this doesn’t ruin his progress. He didn’t want me to touch him.
I tucked him in bed and came down here.”
“Did Chandler tell you how it happened?”
“No, Chandler isn’t telling me anything about it. I turned away for a few moments, but
it was enough to miss everything. Chandler wants it all to disappear.”
“Poor fella. Hey, you were there when he needed him and helped him through the
rough part.”
“There needs to be something more I can do for him. I want to do something to make it
up to him.”
“Like what?”
“I wish to enjoy a romantic dinner with him. He enjoyed the simple picnic dinner I
brought to his room and I thought to take it up a notch. We could set a small table in the
library or something.”
“No, don’t do it here in the Charm or the restaurant.” Mal tapped his fingers on the
counter as he thought. “I know the spot.” He whipped off his apron. “Come with me.”
“What about your sauce?”
“Need to start over. Come with me.” Mal left the kitchen and went through the
deserted restaurant to the back doors and vast porch Sully had created. He led the carpenter
through the sand and around a corner. He waved his hand at the exclusive inlet away from
the Charm. “We could set up a romantic setting here. A bunch of blankets, cushions, a few
tiki lights and a picnic dinner will set the scene. It’ll be gourmet à la Mal style.”
Sully stepped forward and looked around. He turned back to Mal and scooped him in a
quick, hard hug. “Perfect! Thank you. Can you whip up dinner and dessert?”
“Of course. You handle this end of things,” Mal said with a nod to the barren area.
“Everything should be in the storage areas.”
“I’ll take a look and yank Dakota away from Samuel if I must to get this done.”
“Good luck. When do you want dinner?”
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“I’ll bring him downstairs around sunset.”
“It’ll be ready.”
“You’re the best, Mal.”
“Happy to help my friends.”
Chuckling, Mal returned to the kitchen, washed his hands, then tossed out the failed
attempt at the sauce. After reaching up, Mal pulled down a binder of recipes collected over
the years. He flipped through it to find the right menu.
Malcolm chose to create the fish tacos with grilled mahi-mahi, mango salsa, and fresh
field greens with a light dressing. It would be simple, but exotic and encompassed within a
small container to not make a mess and aggravate Chandler’s OCD issues.
Within a few minutes, he pulled together the various ingredients, got the seasoned fish
on the grill, and worked on the salsa and dressing. As he worked through the different pieces
of the dish, he didn’t have the same fun and zest. This was a romantic dinner for another
couple, not him.
Even after the intriguing, sensual moments when Reece had pressed against him,
whispering those heated words, nothing had happened to push things further. Since their
flirtatious dance, Reece hadn’t made another move toward him. Mal could understand the
part about being in blinding pain and unable to take advantage of the bed situation. Reece
had been fuzzy and groggy from the remnants. He’d kissed Mal, rolled out of bed, then gone
for a shower. Mal had left, nervous to do anything else. Part of him still kicked himself for
not joining him. Since those days, Reece remained occupied with cleaning the undergrowth
from the Charm’s vast landscapes, and wherever else he disappeared to. Unlike Sully who
stayed at the Charm during the renovation, Reece left and returned.
As he told himself earlier, there weren’t many options for him and a chance with Reece.
The landscaper was out of his league. Though he hadn’t acknowledged this earlier, he knew
he kept his hair natural to reflect his mopey, listless mood. Not even the night at the club had
given him answers about what was happening with the man.
As the dish came together, Mal found one of the picnic baskets in the storage area. He
folded several napkins in intricate designs then rolled two sets of silverware in another pair
of linens. He placed plates and glasses and other items within the different compartments.
He added a small pitcher of iced tea in a corner. Placing the meal, side dishes and a decadent
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dark chocolate mousse dessert in different containers, he stacked them within the center.
Latching the top, he placed the basket on the end where Sully could grab it.
Within five minutes, Sully raced in, saw the basket and Mal leaning against the counter.
“You’re a lifesaver. Thanks for doing this,” Sully said.
Mal nodded and waved.
“Are you okay? I know you helped Reece through the migraine. Nothing happened to
hurt you?”
“Why do you ask?”
Sully pointed to his own hair to indicate Mal’s colorless locks.
“Still natural, I know, and no, he didn’t do anything to hurt me. He was in no shape for
anything but sleeping.” Mal shrugged. “Nothing for you to worry about. Concentrate on
your date. Go and enjoy it with Chandler.”
“Okay. I’m checking in on my little buddy.”
“What are we? Going on a four day cruise?”
Sully tilted his head back and laughed.
“Go and have fun with Chandler, you idjit.”
“I will. Thanks!” Sully picked up the basket and left the kitchen.
Knowing he needed to clean up the mess, Mal turned to see leftover mousse within the
bowl. Screw it. He wanted some chocolate for himself. He damn well deserved it for slaving
over the basket. Snatching it close, he found a spoon, hitched up to sit on the counter, then
dug into the decadent chocolate goodness. He kicked his feet back and forth and licked the
creaminess.
“Damn, I don’t know what looks better. You or the chocolate.”
Stopping in mid-lick, Mal saw Reece in the doorway, sweaty and streaks of dirt along
his face and neck. The man slapped a pair of work gloves against his thigh as he stared at
Mal.
“Kitchen is closed and this is all mine,” he said, scooping another pile of the fluffy
dessert.
“It’s after sunset, what happened to the dinner shift?”
“Dakota closed the restaurant for a few days while Sully worked around the front
entrance. He didn’t want customers to come through a disaster area.”
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Reece looked around. “So, you’re here all alone?”
“Yeah, was trying out a few things. Did you want something to eat?”
“Yeah, but I need to clean up first. I can help myself, don’t need to be waited on.” Reece
dropped his gloves on a chair. He washed his hands and forearms several times, then
dragged a wet cloth across his face and neck. He sighed as he hung over the sink, the damp
towel across his neck, and let it sit there for a moment.
“Are you okay?”
“Long day, it’s hot as hell with the humidity.”
“How’s the migraine?”
“Still gone and my doctor upped my daily medication. It’s supposed to help stop these
things. Next thing to try are shots of Botox in my neck.” Reece shuddered. “Lots of needles
and pokes over several courses.”
“Eep.”
“Yeah. I said hold off until I was desperate.”
“Sorry there isn’t a better solution. How long have you dealt with them?”
“They started when I was a teenager and passed out at my desk during math class.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah, luckily our nurse knew about these kinds of headaches and how to help me.
Later, I got a prescription for the first rescue medication from my doc.”
“Over time, I guess you learned how to deal with them.”
“Yeah, each one is different, but I’m usually down and out for a few days.”
“I noticed Sully’s crew wasn’t working.”
“He’s ahead of us and we’re attacking the damn jungle with all we have to get to the
cabin. We’re waiting on an order for several heavy-duty brush mowers, but they’ve been
delayed several times. I need them to help with the progress of destroying the larger
vegetation. Some of his crew helped my guys to keep busy. Why did I see him running
around outside across the beach?”
“He’s planning a romantic picnic dinner on the beach with Chandler.”
“You made the dinner I presume was in the basket,” Reece asked, glancing over his
shoulder as he dampened the towel for another round.
“Yeah, I offered since we know Sully can’t cook.”
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“Don’t want him to blow anything up.”
“Dakota would kill him. After the last oops fire, Dakota banned him from going near the
stove and ovens.”
“What happened?”
“Heated something and it caught fire when he turned the burner too high,” Mal said.
“Do you want some water?”
“I’ll get it. Needed this for a moment,” Reece said as he finished cleaning and drying
off. He moved to one of the large refrigerators with a tall glass and filled it with the tea. He
drank half in a few swallows then filled it again. Letting the door close, he returned to where
Mal sat. He looked down at the bowl. “Can I have a taste?”
“Mine.”
“You can share.”
“Why should I with you?”
“You want to.”
“Didn’t know,” Mal said, lifting an eyebrow.
After a few more swallows, Reece set the glass to one side. He braced his hands on
either side of Mal’s legs, forcing his hips between them. The bowl was set in the middle.
“Give me a scoop of…” Reece glanced down. “What is it?”
“Double dark chocolate mousse.”
“Damn. Kill me by chocolate, why don’t you?” Reece narrowed his gaze upon Mal.
“Did I tell you how much I love my dark chocolate?”
Mal licked his lower lip and swallowed hard. “Umm, don’t think you did.”
Reece leaned in, his breath warm against Mal’s skin. “You have endless brown eyes the
color of melted dark chocolate,” he whispered in Mal’s ear, fingers caressing a few soft locks.
“Dark chocolate is my favorite dessert. Hmm, I would love to lick this mousse off your body.
It seems to be designed to make a man want to sin and break every damn law.”
Mal blushed at the deep, husky tones and those words, which caused all kinds of
heated thoughts. He wiggled on the counter to relieve the pressure in his pants. “You can’t
have these leftovers. This is mine.”
“Give me a taste of your creation.”
Mal scraped a sliver of the mousse on the spoon’s edge.
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Reece raised an eyebrow. “Am I a kid or a man? Give me a full scoop.”
Sighing, Mal scooped more and held the spoon higher. “Better?”
“Tell you in a minute,” Reece said, before leaning over and wrapping his mouth around
the end. His eyes met Mal’s widened gaze as he slid his mouth back, tongue swiping over the
remnants of the chocolate. He let it sit and savored the taste. He licked his upper lip. “I’ll take
another.”
“Why should I share with you? I don’t know if we even want to be near one another.
I’m getting mixed messages.” Mal filled another spoonful, but brought it to his lips.
“I thought I made my feelings for you clear.”
Mal ate the spoonful without offering Reece anything. He waved the empty spoon at
him. “I don’t know. We still have issues to figure out.”
At the playful, boyish pout on Reece’s face with the puppy-dog eyes, Mal crashed and
offered the pathetic male another scoop of his precious chocolate. His cock responded under
the cover of the apron as Reece’s lips wrapped around the morsel.
“Delicious.” Taking the bowl from Mal, Reece set it aside. He undid the knot of the
apron and tugged it from Mal’s waist. He tossed it aside.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking things up a notch between us. I missed my chance when I had you almost
naked, warm and comfy in my arms to do what I wanted to you.”
Mal grinned. “I did want to join you in the shower.”
“I wanted you with me, but I was still a mess.”
“I could tell when you woke.”
“It’s why you left so quiet.”
“Hmm. Figured you needed some quiet time to recover.”
“I did.” Reece drew his fingers down Mal’s cheek. “I’ll take advantage of things with a
clear head.” He put his hands on Mal’s waist and dragged him closer to the edge of the
counter where Mal had perched himself.
“Are you crazy? We can’t do anything here. Dakota will kill us,” Mal said.
Reece framed Mal’s face with his hands. “Do you want this? Do you want me?”
“Here? Now… We can’t…”
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“Just a little bit of fun, I promise. I’ll clean the mess. Every…” Reece placed a kiss on
Mal’s right cheek. “Single…” He kissed the left cheek. “Drop…” He wrapped one hand
around the back of Mal’s neck and pulled him into a soft lip-lock, which belied his sensual
words.
At the tenderness and gentleness of Reece’s kiss, Mal moaned, loud, vibrating against
Reece. His cock throbbed against his zipper. He opened his mouth at Reece’s invitation.
Reece moaned when he licked the interior of Mal’s mouth.
“Hmm…chocolate,” Reece said with a smile. “The same decadence as your eyes.”
Mal clenched his hands against Reece’s sides. Sitting on the counter put him at the right
height to grind against Reece’s pelvis. Their hard cocks rubbed each other.
Reece grabbed and massaged the hard bulge in Mal’s pants. He caressed the length
from front to back. “I want to taste this. I want to suck and lick and hold it in my mouth,” he
whispered against Mal’s lips.
“Here? Now?”
“Hmm. A little bit of adventure spices things.”
“The bedroom is empty. We can go back.”
“Nope, want you right here and now.” Crouching, Reece made easy work of the button
and zipper of Mal’s soft pants. He opened them enough to scoop out the eager cock and sac.
He brushed his finger over the tip gleaming with droplets of pre-cum. “You might want to
hang on…”
“For…” Mal held back a squeal when hot, wet heat wrapped around his cock. He stared
at the sight of Reece sucking him down. Those beautiful lips stretched around him.
It didn’t take long for Reece to work him over the edge. He’d been more than halfway
there for several weeks. He bit the inside of his lower lip. He came, hard, in Reece’s mouth.
His cock spurted ropes of cum. Reece swallowed and licked every single drop.
“Holy crap,” Mal said.
Reece cleaned and tucked Mal’s cock back in his pants. He zipped him up with care.
Straightening, he kissed up Mal’s chest. Leaning in, he nipped Mal’s earlobe. Mal wrapped
his fingers around the back of Reece’s head, yanked the man close, and planted a deep kiss
on him. He hooked a leg around Reece’s thighs, tugging him off balance and closer to him.
He groaned when Reece pushed against him, pressing them down to the countertop.
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“Why the hell do I smell sex? What the fuck…? Whoa! Come on! Not in the kitchen!
Shit!”
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Chapter Eight
Pushing Reece off him and away from the counter at the sound of his boss’s affronted
tone, Mal jumped down from the counter. He snagged the apron and held it in front of his
crotch. He shoved a hand through his hair. When Reece muffled a chuckle next to him, he
sent an elbow into the man’s ribs. He glared at him, but there was no change other than a
saucy wink. Damn insufferable man. A quick sniff told him it did smell as if someone had had
quick, raunchy sex. Being one of the culprits, he cursed under his breath.
“Dakota, hi…”
Dakota glared at Mal and lifted an eyebrow.
Mal swallowed hard and pushed against Reece, who didn’t step back from him.
“Hey, Dakota, Samuel,” Reece said in a tone that didn’t sound at all bothered. He kept
one arm around Mal’s waist, pressing their hips together. He pressed his lips to Mal’s
temple.
At the gentle kiss, Mal glared at him.
Reece licked his lips in a deliberate fashion.
Samuel stepped around Dakota to check out what was happening.
Heat rose up his neck and he groaned.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit, ten times worse.
Samuel grinned and wiggled his fingers. “Are you enjoying yourself, Mal?”
Mal blushed harder, ducked under Reece’s arm, and gathered the mess he had created
from creating the picnic dinner. When Reece reached to snag him back, he side-stepped and
smacked his hand.
“Ouch…” Reece shook his hand with a playful pout.
“Behave yourself, you idiot.” Mal glanced back at Samuel. “Yeah, I’m keeping Reece
from overloading on chocolate. What’s up, boss?”
Reece rolled his eyes, which Mal caught from the corner of his gaze.
“We wanted a sweet snack. Someone better sanitize the counter and floor,” Dakota said.
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“Come on, Kota, tell me you haven’t indulged with Samuel in the kitchen,” Reece said,
leaning against the counter.
“I’m not going to tell you. Besides, it’s my damn kitchen, not yours. Shit. No more sex
in my kitchen!” Dakota waved a finger at them.
“What are you doing here, Reece?” Dakota pulled out some leftovers he’d saved for a
late night.
“I had to finish things and work out some plans. I’m bringing in several field and brush
mowers, more heavy duty than what we have. I have Emmy ordering them today,” Reece
said. “Is there anything extra for me?”
“You were eating with Mal.”
“Double dark chocolate mousse,” Reece interrupted, moving his eyes to Mal, finding
him disappearing into the back by the dishwashing area.
“You made double dark chocolate mousse and didn’t save me any! Mal!” Samuel called
out.
“Sorrrrrry,” Mal echoed back.
“No you’re not.”
“I gave most of it to Chandler and Sully.”
“Chan got mousse and not me! I thought you lurved me.”
Mal leaned around the wall as Samuel continued to whine for the lost mousse. “Sully
treated him to a picnic dinner in a romantic spot on the beach. It was dessert. There were
only a few spoonfuls in the bowl.”
“You gave him some,” Samuel said, pointing to Reece.
“He snatched it from me. I had no choice.”
“Hey!” Reece said.
“Busy…” Mal pointed a finger toward Dakota. “Chef boy can make you some. He
knows the recipe. I thought he did promise you something sweet for your snack.”
“Chef boy?” Dakota asked as Samuel snickered and snorted.
“Gotta go and clean.” Mal disappeared and the loud sounds of water filled the back
area.
Samuel glared at Reece. “Evil, evil man.”
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“I got the mousse,” Reece teased.
“Not all you were getting.”
“What do you think I got?” Reece moved to lean opposite where Dakota was working.
“From the smell of things, you got lucky. Somehow. Some way. Nothing else smells like
sex. In my fricking kitchen! Unbelievable. There’s how many empty rooms in this frigging
place and you hooked up in my kitchen. Swift, man, real swift.”
“The place was handy and I didn’t want him to change his mind,” Reece said with a
shrug.
“Oh, man, can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Samuel said, plopping on the counter.
“Hey. What did I tell you about sitting on my counters?” Dakota asked.
“What? Not like they’re not already well used,” Samuel said. “Tell me more, Reece.”
“You love hearing all the smexy sexy details,” Dakota said, flicking his fingers against
Samuel’s thigh.
“Ow… Hey, no I don’t.”
“You’re worse than a bunch of gossips in a barber shop.” Dakota waggled a finger at
his partner then returned to creating their snack. He poured some freshly baked vegetable
chips on a plate and pushed them closer to Samuel. He stared at Reece. His eyebrow lifted
with his question. “What exactly are you planning on doing with my sous chef?”
“What’s it to you?”
“I told you once before, a long time ago, and now I need to give you a reminder. If you
even think of hurting him, I’ll slice your balls off and serve them to you in a meatball
sandwich.”
Reece winced and crossed his legs. “Dayum. You know where to be deadly.”
“Ouch, honey, I don’t know if you need to go…” Samuel trailed off at the quick glare of
his partner.
Dakota set the handle of the chef’s blade on the counter, the steel standing up. He
wiggled it as Reece covered the priority parts.
“I haven’t forgotten the original threat of breaking his heart. I’m determined to be
careful with him.”
“I love him as a little brother. It’s a life-guarantee threat. Got it?”
“Samuel, lend a man a hand,” Reece pleaded.
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“I did. It didn’t work. He’s the man with the sharpie thing.” Samuel snitched one of the
chips and crunched loudly and annoyingly. When Dakota stared at him, he sent him an air
kiss back. “Reece, would you be the reason why Mal has been mopey and kept his hair
natural?”
“Me?” Reece stepped back. “Why would I be a reason?”
“Moron,” Dakota muttered.
“What? Don’t use the knife. I swear I don’t know what you mean.” Reece looked
between them.
“The kid has been in love with you since I brought him here.” Dakota crumpled a paper
towel then beaned a stunned Reece between his eyes.
“No, we barely looked at one another or exchanged a few words. It’s within the last
couple of weeks I got the nerve to talk to, dance with, and touch him.”
“Hello? He raced to your side the minute Simon said you were having a migraine and
alone in the room. He never left the room once he found your medication. Why would he do
this if he didn’t give a shit about you?”
“He wanted to help me.”
Dakota looked at his partner. “Is he this blind and dense?”
“Don’t know. He’s your friend,” Samuel said, stealing another chip.
“I noticed him when you brought him home, but he was a kid. I saw him as your kid
brother and nothing more.” Reece shook his head.
“But do you like him now?” Samuel asked as he snatched another chip.
“Hella yes, I like him a lot. I told him.”
“Did you?”
Reece nodded.
“Don’t hurt him anymore by ignoring him. He’s a capable, strong young man, but still
tender inside. You hurt him, I hurt you, best friend or not, got it?” Dakota pointed the knife
toward Reece and lowered it to his waistband.
Holding up his hands, Reece met Dakota’s gaze over the steel blade. “I understand. I’ll
take care of how I treat him. I promise.”
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“Good. We’ve covered the issue and we’re done,” Dakota muttered as he put together
three plates. He lifted his head and shouted, “Mal, have you eaten anything other than the
mousse?”
“Nooooooo.”
“Getcha ass out here and eat with us.” Dakota added food to a fourth plate. “Reece, be
useful, get the iced tea out of the fridge.”
The water shut off and Mal walked around to one of the counters where Dakota had
yanked out stools. He pointed Mal to sit next to Reece as he settled with Samuel and they
shared a late evening dinner.
* * * *
Cleaning the kitchen after a late dinner, trying not to melt into the floor in
embarrassment, Mal wiped down and yawned hard. He was ready to go home. Snagging his
things from the locker, Mal turned then stopped short.
Reece leaned against the frame. A wide grin spread across his face.
“What are you still doing here, troublemaker?”
“Me? Troublemaker? Come on…” Reece said with a chuckle.
“You got me in a shit load of trouble with the adventure crap,” Mal said.
“You enjoyed yourself.”
“Doesn’t matter. I could have been caught with my pants down…”
“You enjoyed yourself.”
“Doesn’t. Matter,” Mal gritted between his teeth.
“It matters to me,” Reece said as he strolled toward him. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes, it’s something I wanted for a long time.”
“I’m staying here tonight,” Reece said as he traced a finger along Mal’s cheekbone.
“Good for you.”
“Wanna join me?”
Mal blinked.
“A little fooling around. A little kissing. A little bit of sleep. Whatcha think?”
“No more than fooling around.”
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“Correct. We’ll save sex until we know each other better.”
“Strange to hear it coming from you,” Mal said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Getting older, I’m changing my ways. I don’t jump in the sack with anyone, even at
the clubs, because it leaves you with an empty knot in your belly.”
“Know the feeling well,” Mal said. “I stopped trolling for the same reason.”
“I noticed you were only dancing and drinking.”
“It’s all I do when I go there with Dorian.”
“Do you wanna join me tonight? I’m more alert this time.”
“Same room?”
Reece nodded.
Mal clicked off the lights. “I’ll follow you.”
“You will.”
“Go on. Lead the way.”
Reece held out his hand and Mal took it. With hands clasped, they moved through the
darkened old building, silence falling around them. He led them to the familiar room.
Mal walked over to the bed. Reaching into his pockets, he emptied the contents onto the
nightstand. He saw a fresh bottle of lube. Lifting it, he turned to watch Reece close and lock
the door then stroll toward him.
“What’s this?”
“A little bit of fun and safe play. I swear, nothing more.” Reece tugged off his shirts
then tossed them to one side. He pushed his cargo pants down his legs after rescuing his
phone from a pocket. He set it next to Mal’s phone. He kicked his pants away, standing only
in navy boxers.
Mal set the bottle on the nightstand. He looked from Reece’s bare feet, up those long,
powerful legs, and the bulge under the shorts. He noticed the telltale spot darkening the
cotton. The flat belly and broad chest defined from years of work. He dropped his gaze back
to the damn toes. Hell, even the man’s feet, sprinkled with the lightest of hairs, were damn
gorgeous.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mal stayed fully clothed, enjoying the difference between
their levels of undress for a moment. He leaned back on his elbows, turned on at the
delectable sight of the entire length of Reece standing before him for his ultimate pleasure.
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He enjoyed seeing the proof of how he brought Reece to the point of spilling his pre-cum. He
wanted to seize him close, plant his lips on the man, and reach for his cock.
With a grin, Reece crawled across the bed, moving above Mal, until he captured Mal’s
lips with a deep, passionate kiss. His fingers sank into Mal’s hair, dug into the skin around
his hips. He rolled to his side, rising to a kneeling position to stare at Mal. “You have too
many clothes on.”
“Shit… Crap…” Mal lowered his pants with a few brisk movements and lifted his T-
shirt. He paused when Reece captured him, locking them in the T-shirt around his head. He
pushed back to the bed with care.
“Damn, you’re even sexier half dressed, your head caught in your shirt,” Reece said as
he trailed his other hand down Mal’s chest.
“I wanna see you.”
“You will.”
Unable to see, Mal quivered when fingers moved over his body, encircled a nipple,
followed the lines of his ribs then the trail of dark curls. A whiskered cheek rubbed against
his cotton-covered cock. He bucked his hips against Reece. “Please…”
“Remove the shirt,” Reece said before heat covered Mal’s cock.
Mal moaned as the cotton became damp around his cock from the combination of
Reece’s mouth and his pre-cum. Another heated groan left when Reece licked the edge of the
waistband, dipping inside.
Yanking the shirt from his arms, Mal tilted his head to watch Reece as he climbed back
up Mal’s body. They lay side by side, facing one another, and without a word they shimmied
out of their boxers. Their cocks were free and pointing toward one another.
Reece moved and lined their cocks together. He trailed his fingers between them,
circling the bases, the soft sacs underneath, grasping both cocks.
“Holy fuck, this looks and feels so damn sexy,” Mal said.
“You look good against me,” Reece said as he masturbated them. He made sure the
heads touched. He rubbed them together until they both shuddered.
Stretching an arm behind him, Mal found the bottle and flipped the top. He tugged
Reece’s hand from their cocks and poured a good amount in Reece’s palm. He capped and
tossed the bottle behind his head. He rubbed the lube between their palms.
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“Needing a little lube there, huh?” Reece caressed their cocks with long, strong strokes
from base to head.
“Be careful. Don’t let things get too slippery,” Mal said.
“I know what I’m doing.” Maneuvering himself, Reece added a second hand to their
lubed penises. He slowed down, experimented until Mal moaned. He worked the plum-
colored heads, twisting around the shafts, and deep around the roots. Continuing to stroke
Mal’s cock, Reece glided his finger along the ridge behind the sac toward Mal’s anus. After
tapping his fingers against the skin, he massaged in circles to relax the nerves. He stimulated
the connection between Mal’s shaft and corona, slid his thumb against the slit.
To Mal’s delight and surprise, Reece lingered, played with their cocks and sacs, and
explored the length, size and shape of Mal’s cocks with those lubed fingers. He groaned
when Reece circled his anus, pressing a finger in to stretch the opening.
When his balls pulled up, tightening, Mal gripped one of Reece’s shoulders and stared
at him.
“Yeah. Are you getting there?”
Mal nodded. “More…”
Reece quickened the tantalizing, twisting motion until they both shot cum across their
bellies. He continued to stroke their cocks, milking both of their shafts, until they groaned
through the last of their orgasms, collapsing against each other.
It wasn’t the first time they would make a mess during the night.
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Chapter Nine
A few weeks after their night together playing and learning each other’s body, Reece
couldn’t get the night’s delights out of his mind. Though, for some reason, he couldn’t coax
Mal into spending another night together. Mal seemed to avoid him. Reece leaned back in his
chair as he tapped a pen on the desk to help him consider his options. He wanted the
younger man with everything inside him, but he wasn’t the best with relationships. He’d
never found himself satisfied with another man, especially those who whined about his
constant work ethic.
Emmy knocked on the frame to get Reece’s attention. “Hey, boss,” she said. “I’m sorry
about the multiple delays, but I found the machines you needed. We have five field and
brush mowers, a tank of fuel, and operators on their way. They’ll be with us until you release
them. I made sure they were dedicated only to us until you call things done. If you need
more, I can get another five mowers in two weeks.”
“Oh, good, thanks for the update. About damn time, I was ready to purchase them, but
we don’t have enough in the books to warrant them. Let me see how we do with this initial
set and I’ll let you know.”
“What’s going on?”
“Thinking about personal shit.”
“You don’t have personal shit.”
Tilting his head back, he looked over at her and grimaced. “Yeah, I know. It’s part of the
problem and I’m working on changing things around.”
“Guess you better figure out what to do about it. All work and no play create a dull
Reece.”
Reece chuckled. “Guess I’m getting a little dull around the edges.”
“Hmm.”
“Could you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Do you know about those bright temporary hair colors you can add?”
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“Yes.”
“Can you pick up several boxes of colors?”
“Is this for someone we know?” She winked to indicate that she knew exactly what
Reece meant.
“He needs a little color back in his life.”
“Want them gift-wrapped?”
“Nah, I don’t want to go too far.”
Laughing, Emmy waved to him. “You’ll have them on your desk this evening.”
“Thanks.”
“What I’m here for. Get outta here, boss, you’re not needed here.”
With a grin, Reece gathered his things, kissed Emmy’s cheek when he passed her, then
left the office.
* * * *
When he reached the Charm, a truck and trailer pulled in after him. There were several
mowers lined along the back. Once the machines had been unloaded, Reece spoke with the
men who controlled the mowers. With their help, he organized them into the correct areas.
He sent three to the road to start the difficult process of removing the overgrowth. The others
would concentrate on the back.
Grateful for the machines as they plowed and destroyed the deep undergrowth, Reece
went to share his progress with Samuel and the others. He heard shouting as his phone
buzzed with a text. He swiped the screen and read the text to head to the back office. Turning
the corner, he met up with Sully and Dakota in the hallway.
“What is going on? Did you get the same text?” He lifted his phone to the others.
“Yeah. To go to Samuel and Chandler’s offices,” Dakota said then led the way.
They spilled through the door of a clean, organized office with a proud Chandler
standing in the middle. Sully shouldered past them and snatched Chandler in an embrace
and twirl.
After congratulations at finishing the big clear-up and teasing, Dakota announced
they’d have a pizza and movie night.
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“This is gonna be fun.” Reece rubbed his hands together. “Not planning on leaving. We
got those damn mowers in and working. My crew is gonna get busy catching up. Sully, leave
your lover alone and come with us.”
“Come on… I want…” Sully called back.
“Come on, Sully,” Reece said and glanced over his shoulder.
After several more kisses with Chandler, Sully jogged up to catch them as they entered
the kitchen. He went to the coffeemaker to pour a cup.
“Mal!” Dakota called out.
“What? I swear I’m gonna go deaf with you always yelling at me,” Mal said as he
stepped out of the pantry. “What do you want?”
“Where’s the pizza dough?”
“Pizza dough? It’s not on the menu.”
Dakota waved a hand. “Screw the menu. Where is it?”
“We’re out.”
“Shit. Make a batch,” Dakota ordered.
“Why?” Mal set his container down. He stared at the three tall men, all of them
grinning like fools.
“We’re gonna have a movie night. Mel Brooks—”
Mal pointed a finger at the chef and interrupted, “Don’t even think about ripping one.”
Reece and his friends laughed, hard, until they were holding their stomachs.
Mal lifted an eyebrow. “Okay. What did I miss?”
“Samuel and Chandler have no clue what we did or who we’re talking about,” Sully
said, “so we let them rip and exchanged lines, but they stared at us.”
“What?”
“Even with the gas, they don’t know about Mel Brooks,” Dakota said.
“Shit. I’ll find Dorian and get on the dough. What time are we starting?” Mal headed to
the pantry.
“Nine. Room next to the library. If Dorian knows what we’re talking about, invite him
along.”
“They’ll be ready, and will do.”
Reece glanced over at Dakota. “He’s good.”
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With a smug glance back, Dakota rubbed his nails against his chest and blew on them.
“I know. I taught him everything.”
“Dorian!” Mal hollered as he entered the pantry.
“What? I’m here. I’m here,” Dorian said as he walked out of the restroom and washed
his hands.
“We need to get a few pounds of pizza dough together for tonight.”
“Dakota is offering pizza on tonight’s menu?”
“No, we’re having a movie night around nine tonight. We’re supplying the pizza and
beer,” Mal said as he secured a mixing bowl to the industrial size mixer and changed the
whisk to a dough hook.
“Cool! What are we watching?”
Mal looked up, leaned a hand against the counter, and rubbed his chin. “We must test
your knowledge before I can officially let you attend. We have two newbies to take through
the introduction.”
“Okay. What are we watching? Who are the newbies?”
“How well do you know Mel Brooks?”
“The man or the movies?”
“All of him.”
“Everything. I got a collection of all the DVDs,” Dorian said, puffing up with pride.
“How well do you know your movies?” Dakota asked, appearing in the opening to
assist with the dough. He stared at the young man. “‘You are entering the territory of Robin
Hood and his Merry Men.’”
Dorian wiggled his hand. “‘Faygeles?’”
Mal and Dakota cleared their throats, and Dakota replied, “‘No. No. We’re straight.
Just…merry.’”
“Yeah, right,” Dorian said with a grin.
“Hmm. I don’t know,” Dakota said.
“Guess I’ll have to suck in my pansy pants and do it the hard way.” Dorian cleared his
throat then performed the dance of the Merry Men along with a lusty loud version of the
song—
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“We may look like sissies
But watch what you say or else we’ll put our your lights!
We’re men,
We’re men in tights.”
He ended the song with the full flourish—
“When you’re in a fix just call for the men in tights.
We’re butch!”
When Dorian had finished, the others whooped and cheered. They ended up cracking
out in laughter to where they were tearing up and holding their aching guts.
“Oh yeah, he’s good to join us and teach Samuel and Chandler,” Reece said as the first
to regain the ability to talk.
“Sheesh. Didn’t know what else I would have to do to prove to you guys,” Dorian said.
“You make us damn proud,” Reece said, moving and dragging the younger man in a
hard side hug, almost lifting him off his feet.
“Good to know,” Dorian said, wheezing for breath.
“Okay. Okay. Get out of here and let us create some pizzas,” Mal said, wiping his eyes
with a napkin.
“I wish I’d gotten it on my phone. It woulda made a helluva YouTube sensation,” Sully
said, hooting again with more laughter as he walked out.
“Oh, hell, no!” Dorian said. “I would have knocked you over the head and deleted the
damn thing!”
“Try me, short stuff,” Sully called back.
“Forget it, we have dough to make,” Malcolm said, returning with a giant container of
bread flour. He tossed a small handful at Dorian to get his attention.
“Hey…”
Malcolm laughed and measured several cups into the bowl.
“What do you need?”
“Sugar, salt, yeast, oil and water. We need the water boiling to activate the yeast.”
“Got it.” The younger man disappeared to gather the items.
Mal looked over at Dakota, Reece, and Sully. “Are you three going to help or are you
standing there?”
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Reece nudged Sully’s side. “We’re outta here. Got work to do.”
“Chicken!” Mal said.
Reece made a kissy face at Mal. “Wanna dig in the dirt with me?”
“And risk getting a worm crawling around me? Ewww…” Mal let out a full body
shudder.
Reece laughed and stepped over. He planted a kiss on Mal’s cheek.
Mal blinked at Reece’s token of affection in front of the others.
Reece brushed his fingers down Mal’s cheek.
Mal lifted on his toes and pressed his lips to Reece’s chin.
After a smile, Reece pulled away and returned to Sully. “Look forward to the delicious
pizzas. Bye, fellas.” He took hold of his friend’s shoulders, spun him around, and pushed
Sully out of the kitchen. “To work we go, my friend.”
Dakota chuckled and held his hands. “I’ll slice up the veggies and cheese and make the
sauce.” He found a container and filled it with the ingredients needed to create the rich
sauce.
“How many pizzas?”
“At least eight full pizzas. There’s going to be…” Dakota counted in his head. “Seven of
us.”
It was Mal’s turn to count. He worked out how much dough he needed to create.
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Chapter Ten
Several weeks after the raucous pizza and movie night, construction moved to interior
sections of the Charm with almost a vengeance type of attack by Sully. Mal and the others
learned to stay out of the man’s way. Chandler didn’t join them for meals and stayed closed
in either his office or his upstairs room. Something had happened between them and it was
affecting the entire Charm and everyone within her.
Mal enjoyed the hours when Reece lingered longer around the kitchen. Reece often
poked his nose in to ask for cups of coffee or iced tea refills throughout the day. He stayed
for a conversation, little touches, and flirting. They spoke about odd little pieces of their lives,
movies, books, television and other stuff they enjoyed or hated. With each conversation, Mal
saw Reece as more than a handsome landscaper who was knowledgeable about his plants—
he was a decent, caring man as well. A man he wanted to know more about.
There were the boxes appearing at his workstation.
Mal kept finding boxes of vivid temporary hair color with a note to ‘add a little color
back in your life’. At this point, he hadn’t used one of them. He kept his hair the natural color
for a little longer, enjoying the simple upkeep.
Chandler entered the kitchen alone.
After cleaning his cutting board and knife, Mal dried his hands on a towel. He walked
toward him with a smile. “Hey there, Chandler, how are you? You seem a little out of sorts
the last few weeks,” he said.
“Took some different advice and I’m now paying the consequences.”
“What type of consequences?”
“On the outs with Sully,” Chandlers said, tapping his fingers three times against his
hip.
“Ouch. Is this why the man is taking apart the Charm with such vigor?”
“Possible.”
“What do you need from me?”
“How do I recreate the romantic beach picnic to entice Sully?”
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“Entice or seduce?”
Chandler blushed. “Both.”
Malcolm leaned a hip against the counter as he crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t give him
an entire dinner. You want one dish, to share, filled with absolute decadence.”
“I do.”
Mal nodded. “I know what he loves. What fruit do you prefer?”
“Cherries.”
Thinking about the pantry, Mal tapped his fingers on the counter. “I can work with it.
I’ll handle the food. Can you handle setting the scene on the beach?”
“Samuel is going to help.”
“Want it for sunset?”
Chandler nodded.
“Consider it done. You’ll find the basket on the end of the counter.”
“I could offer some—”
“Don’t say it. I’m happy to help,” Mal said, lifting a hand.
“What about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not the same bubbly wanna-be Smurf chef I met on my first day here. You seem
a little depressed and quiet.”
“Man troubles, but I’m starting to work on it. There are a couple of hiccups along the
way, but I think they can be smoothed out with time.”
“Why do we put ourselves through these hardships?”
“For the one chance of happiness and love,” Mal said. “Don’t worry about me, please.
Concentrate on making this night special for Sully and you. If he asks you to go home with
him, say yes.”
Another bright blush colored Chandler’s face as he giggled. Giggled! “Samuel said the
same.”
“Good advice to follow.”
Chandler stepped closer and gave Mal a quick hug. Something he wouldn’t have
expected from the smaller man who suffered with severe OCD and spatial issues. Mal
returned the brief embrace.
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“Thank you, Malcolm.”
“You’re welcome. Go. Set the scene with Samuel.”
Racing away, Chandler waved a hand as he disappeared around the opening.
“Once again, another romantic dinner needs to be prepared,” Mal said as he pulled
down the binder of recipes to see what to create this time.
“Perhaps you should add romantic picnic dinners on the beach to the Charm’s offerings
when you re-open.”
Startled someone was around, Mal saw Reece entering the kitchen. “Where did you
come from?”
“What did I miss?” Reece lifted a large tumbler cup and lid. “I’m out of tea and came
searching for more. I stopped when I heard Chandler talking to you.”
“Were you listening in to my private conversations? Again? You seem to have a
problem with this.”
Reece shrugged. “Right place, wrong time.”
“Reece.”
“I apologize, but I was worried about Sully. I’m not going to say a word.” Reece walked
farther in and headed toward the fridge. He pointed to what Mal was reading with his cup.
“You know, I meant what I said. After the renovation is finished, you should offer romantic
dinners on the beach.”
“I’ll think about it,” Mal said as he chose the flour-less chocolate cake and fruit purée
with mangoes and cherries. “You know where the tea is and can help yourself.”
“Am I so repulsive you don’t want to stop and talk to me?”
Stopping short, Mal turned around on one foot. His jaw dropped. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Yeah, thought I was mistaken.”
Reece lowered the cup on the counter, shoved hands in his pocket, and shifted his
weight. “You don’t want to stop and speak with me.”
“I promised I would get this cake done for Chandler.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I thought we had a good time at the club and things were getting
better between us. There was the amazing night we spent together to learn about each other.
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I know we have crazy schedules, but I hoped for a little more whenever we got a break. I’m
hoping you will meet me in the room again.”
“Do you mean tonight?”
“The room is free.”
“Not tonight, I’m dragging and heading home when I’ve finished this.”
“Oh. Could I call you?”
“Sure. Don’t you have my number?”
Reece shook his head. “We see each other all the time here.”
“Oy. Here…” Mal pushed his phone toward Reece. “Add your number in.”
It took a few moments for Reece to figure out the phone, but he tapped various buttons
on the screen to add his contact information. He pulled his phone out and did the same with
Mal’s number. He walked down the length of the counter to where Mal sat. Setting the phone
down, he leaned over and nibbled along the back of Mal’s neck.
Shuddering, Mal set the binder down. “Reece…”
“I’m giving you a reminder. I hope to see you later,” Reece said. After refilling his
tumbler with iced tea, he left without another word.
Shifting his pants to relieve the pressure of his cock, Mal focused his concentration on
creating a decadent cake worthy of a seduction.
* * * *
It had taken three and a half hours to bake the decadent cake and Mal was ready to
quit. His feet hurt, his back strained, and he almost stumbled inside his apartment. His body
dragged with exhaustion. He was grateful for the next two days off he had. He decided to
spend the majority of it asleep in bed. As he tugged his stinky, sweaty shirt over his head,
Mal groaned at the loud knocking on the door. He let his shirt fall back and shuffled to the
door.
Unlocking it, he opened it a crack and his jaw dropped.
A clean, neatly dressed Reece stood on the porch, clutching a bouquet filled with
several colors of camellias, gladioli, and irises. In his other hand, Reece held a small bag. Mal
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moved his attention back to the beautiful flowers, knowing there was a meaning behind
them.
“I hoped we could create a time to speak.” Reece wiggled the flowers between them.
“You said you were going to call.”
“I said I hope to see you.”
“I…”
“You look exhausted, I’m sorry. You said something about heading straight home, but I
didn’t think…” Reece cursed under his breath and looked away. “I’m sorry. Since we spent
the night together, I can’t think about anything else but you. In a way, this is bad since I need
to concentrate on my job. There are dangerous tools and other stuff I need to watch. Damn,
you’re so damn beautiful when you come.”
“Wait. Wait. Wait. Holy crap…” Mal held up a hand. He stepped back. “You can come
inside.” He waved the man of his dreams into his home. Those dreams had held a little more
reality since the night he’d spent with Reece.
Reece stepped forward, brushed against Mal in a deliberate fashion then dipped in for a
kiss. “Hello,” he whispered against Mal’s lips.
“Hello,” Mal said with a smile. “Take off your shoes. I don’t want dirt tracking around
and forcing me to clean things.” Mal closed and locked the door.
After toeing off the loafers, Reece wiggled his bare feet on the hardwood. He studied
the brilliant primary colors Mal had chosen for the walls and decorations.
“Nice place. Been wondering what these things looked like on the inside. Could use a
little help with the greenery around the outside,” he said.
“Talk to the owners, not me.”
“I tried. They said they’ll get back to me.”
“Never did?”
“Nope.”
“Figures. The one problem with them is they’re not the best at coming to help fix things
right away.”
“It’s a problem with anyone who doesn’t have a green thumb or is encouraged to better
their homes. Anyway, your home is wonderful, it feels friendly and open.”
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“Thanks, I pull things together here and there when I can.” Leaning back against the
door, Mal crossed arms over his chest and held back a yawn.
“Umm. Here.” Reece shoved the bouquet toward him.
“Thanks, they’re fabulous. Did you get them from Jude’s place?”
“Yeah. Told him what I needed to say and he created this for me,” Reece said, nudging
a large camellia bloom with his finger.
“What are you trying to say?” Mal lifted the flowers and breathed in the heady
fragrance.
“Umm. Hang on, I wrote it down,” Reece said and dug into his pocket to pull out a
piece of folded paper.
Mal raised both eyebrows in surprise. “You wrote it down.”
“I didn’t want to forget anything.”
“Okay. This is new.”
“It’s new for me.” Reece cleared his throat. “Umm… The camellias are a gift to a man,
and symbolize admiration, longing for you—you’re adorable, and a bright flame to my heart.
The gladioli mean ‘Give me a break… Please… I’m sincere’. The irises are a symbol of hope,
faith and my compliments.” He shuffled a little. “I’m giving you these flowers…”
“You don’t have to finish or sum it up, I understand,” Mal said.
“Oh, thank God, thank you,” Reece said, folding the paper again then shoving it in his
pocket. “First time I gave flowers with certain meanings.”
“Who else did you give flowers to?”
“I send a bouquet every year to my mom and grandmas for Mother’s Day.”
Mal raised both eyebrows for a second time.
“You’re the first guy.” Reece stepped in and brushed his lips against Mal’s mouth. “I
can’t stop wanting to kiss you—these plush lips, and your taste. About the flowers, I hope
you enjoy them even if you forget the meaning.”
“They’re wonderful. Lemme put these in water,” Mal said as he walked through the
open floor-plan to the kitchen. He set the flowers down and rummaged for a vase. “Where
did I put it? There we go.” He found the crystal square vase and set it on the counter. Using
scissors, he trimmed the flowers, arranged them to showcase all the blooms, then added
water. He breathed in the light fragrance.
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“You had practice,” Reece said as he followed.
“What kind of practice?”
“You’re arranging the flowers as if you know how to set them up.”
Mal glanced over his shoulder. “I watched Jude at work and helped him for extra
money. He’s the master.”
“Considering he owns a successful flower shop, I say he should be the master.” Reece
held out the bag.
“What’s this?”
“It’s for you.”
“This too?”
Reece dangled the bag on a finger.
Mal took the bag, opened it to peek inside, and gasped. “Nuh-uh! How did you know?”
“I did a little research.”
“Orange Mist shortbread cookies.” Mal almost swooned as he pulled out the bag of
fresh cookies from the specialty bakery, Katie’s Kakes & Kookies. “How did you get Katie to
make these? They’re not one of her regular flavors.”
“A lot of begging and pleading at how they’ll help save my skin and reputation with a
wonderful fella,” Reece said. “What’s the appeal of them?”
“They’re made with fresh orange juice, orange zest and Earl Grey tea with bergamot
flavor. They’re fabulous.” Mal looked over at Reece. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Well, guess I’d better let you get some rest. We’ll make better plans to
sit and talk after you get some sleep.” Reece tapped his hands on the bar and pushed away.
“You could stay. A little longer, I mean,” Mal offered. “I’ll make some tea and we’ll
share the cookies.”
“They’re your favorites.”
“I would still share.” Mal looked at the bag. “I would share with you. Do you want to
stay?”
“Yes. Could we chance another sleepover?”
“I’m thinking about it, but we’ll play it by ear. How about you choose a movie or
something to watch on TV?”
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Reece glanced over his shoulder at the sweet electronic set-up of large flat screen TV
with a Blu-ray DVD, and surround sound system. “You spent money.”
“Yup, along with a security system to protect it,” Mal said, turning to set up the kettle
of water, a teapot with leaves and a pair of cups. He chose a plate to arrange the cookies on.
“Go and choose something.”
After heading over to the long, sleek sofa, Reece plopped down, stretched out, and
found the remote. He scrolled through the guide. “Hey. I found Sunset Boulevard playing in
five minutes.”
“Perfect. Haven’t watched it in a while.”
Reece clicked on the channel and set down the remote.
Mal looked up and saw Reece resting his arms across the back of the sofa, watching
him. He smiled back at him. “I enjoyed spending time with you during the movie night.”
“It was a lot of fun, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. We should suggest it again. Find another series of movies to introduce those two
fellas to.”
“I don’t know if they’ll trust us.”
“We were a little loud.”
“You mean stinky.”
Reece laughed. “I almost thought poor Chandler would pass out after walking behind
us at the wrong moment.”
“Poor thing. I think he was ready to spray a can of Febreeze or Lysol over all us.”
They chuckled at the smaller fellow’s reaction to them and the crazy movies.
As the credits and opening music appeared on the screen, Mal picked up the tray of tea
and cookies, nudged the light off with an elbow, and made his way to the sofa. He set the
tray on the table then settled next to Reece. After pouring the tea, he leaned against the
cushions.
Reece reached out one long arm and tugged Mal to lean and curl against his side. He
tossed the throw blanket over them. “Rest on me, I know you’re exhausted. I’ll stay for a bit.”
“Stay. Don’t go… Not when I got you here,” Mal said, nibbling on one of the delicious
cookies, slow and deliberate to enjoy the flavors. He sipped the tea. As he curled against the
warmth and strength of his landscaper, he watched the movie with a waning attention span.
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“Not planning on going anywhere. I think I enjoyed our nights alone much better,
though. Even though I was out of it with pain the first time, I knew you were there with me.
And the second time… Damn, when I saw your body and the way you come. Fucking
gorgeous.” Reece trailed his fingers down Mal’s upper arm.
Mal turned to look up at Reece. “Is it all you wanted to do?”
“With you, no, I want everything, but I’m willing to give us time. I said I want to learn
about you—more than simple things I found, but what makes you tick, laugh and love.”
“Is this why you kept coming into the kitchen to talk with me?”
“Yeah. It was my stupid attempt at courting.”
“It was cute, sexy in a way, how you opened yourself in those brief moments.”
“So… You liked my company?”
“Yeah. Do you like mine?“
“You’re better in the flesh than any dreams I had.”
Flushing under the praise, Mal snuggled closer to Reece as they turned their attention
to the movie.
* * * *
Unfamiliar nudges and movements woke Mal. It made him wake grumpy. He found
himself dressed, not in his bed, and stretched along the sofa, his head resting on an
uncomfortable pillow. He moved his head to see what had happened and saw a pair of
strong thighs covered in denim. Turning to the side, he looked straight into a warm spring
green gaze. Coffee-dark hair flopped over a forehead. The beginning night growth shadowed
the squared-off jaw.
“Reece…” he whispered, licking his dry lips.
“You fell asleep during the movie. I stretched you across my lap and covered you with
the blanket. My leg went numb while I slept. I’m sorry about moving.” Stretching, Reece let
out a long yawn almost dislodging his jaw.
Mal turned his head, saw that the forgotten teapot and cookies remained on the tray.
The television was off. He stretched his legs under the blanket.
“I better get outta your hair and head for home,” Reece said.
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Looking over his shoulder, Mal took a chance. “Are you working tomorrow?”
“Not planning on it. I try to give the crew a day off or two. With the brush mowers,
we’re making progress.” Reece stretched with another yawn.
Mal echoed the yawn and rolled to a sitting position. He pushed the blanket away and
rose to his feet. He held out his hand.
“I’ll pull you back down instead of you helping me up,” Reece said as he rose to his
over six-foot height. After stretching his arms straight over his head, Reece yawned and
scratched his jaw. “Get some rest. I’ll call you later.”
“I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me.” Mal took Reece’s hand in his and led him
across the condo to his bedroom door.
“Are you sure?”
“It’s an invitation to my bed. Please?”
“Sleep is about all either one of us can do right now.”
Mal stopped near his unmade bed. He yanked the stinky shirt over his head and tossed
it toward the closet. He followed it with his jeans, leaving his body covered in cotton boxers.
He hated not wearing slinky, sexy underwear, but damn, he hadn’t been expecting to have a
man in his bedroom tonight. A glance over his shoulder stopped him short.
“I do love those boxers. They mold your ass and cock just right to snag my attention,”
Reece said as he stepped behind Mal, smoothing his hands down the soft cotton covering
Mal’s ass. He pinched the fullness of one cheek and made Mal yip in surprise.
Leaning over, Reece nipped at the corded line from Mal’s neck and shoulder. He licked
to soothe the light bite and rumbled in pleasure. “I smell chocolate and mangoes on you.”
“It’s from the dessert I made for Chandler and Sully.”
“You didn’t save me chocolate?”
“Perhaps I will next time.”
“When do I get a cake?”
“I think when you’re a good boy.”
Laughing, Reece stepped away, kicked off his jeans to reveal stretchy cotton boxers that
clung to those long thighs, lean hips and cupped a large mound in front and a tight ass. He
yanked off his shirts and dropped them next to his jeans. He scratched the dark hair spread
across his upper chest. “Don’t know when I’ll ever be a good boy.”
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“You’re gorgeous,” Mal said.
“So are you,” Reece said as he stepped closer, before wrapping his arms around Mal
and dragging him close again. This time their chests and cocks brushed together.
“I’m nowhere near your strength.”
“We do different work, need different muscles.” He lifted one of Mal’s arms, circled his
fingers down the slender forearm, wrist and traced the fingers. “Your job is done with your
hands and forearms to create delicious meals. Do you know how much I want to lick and
suck every inch of your hands? They’re damn sexy and creative. I want to be something they
sink into instead of your dough.”
“Damn, you know how to knock a man over with words.”
“Does it make you hot and achy?” Reece nudged his thigh against Mal’s hardened cock.
“Yeah, I want you to do more, but I’m about ready to keel over.”
“I know. Sometimes we have rotten timing when it comes to seduction.” Reece yawned
hard and shook his head. “The day is catching up to me. You’re not the only one.” Leaning
over, Reece captured Mal’s mouth with a soft, warm kiss.
Mal looped his arms around Reece’s neck. He indulged them with several long, sleepy
kisses. Their tongues tangled.
Together, they stumbled and tipped into bed. Mal fell across Reece. Laughing at each
other, they maneuvered until Mal was half on Reece and sprawled across the bed. Kicking
and dragging the covers over them, their legs tangled together, Mal dropped his head on his
new pillow and closed his eyes, listening to Reece’s slow, even breathing.
How the hell had he got this beautiful man in his bed?
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Chapter Eleven
Slowly awakening, Mal enjoyed the solid length of Reece curled against him. This was
the answer to his dreams. Somehow, it felt different being in his bed with Reece versus the
Charm’s bedroom. This felt more intimate and personal because Reece was amongst his stuff,
his scent on Mal’s sheets and pillow. There was an almost intense heat rolling off Reece and it
soaked into Mal’s body and straight to his groin. He ached. Still, it was far better than the
most luxurious of blankets. Soft exhales feathered his neck as Reece slept. Nothing hanky-
panky had happened during the night—not that he’d expected it to since they’d both been
exhausted.
Reece continued to remain a damn gentleman about everything.
Carefully rolling, Mal stared at the sleeping Reece. Desire and pleasure engulfed him.
He’d wanted Reece for decades and now he was in his bed, with him. He rubbed his stiff
cock against the bed. With Reece sleeping, he could let his gaze rove down the long frame,
taking in all the minute details. He yearned to reach out and touch Reece.
Before he decided to slide under the covers and surprise Reece with a morning blow
job, Mal forced himself to wiggle away from the sleeping man. His bladder was screaming at
him and he knew his breath would rival the stink of the nearest swamp. Staring at his
reflection, Mal brushed his teeth, but didn’t bother with the scruff. Even with the handsome
man in his bed, he wasn’t planning on winning any beauty contests.
Shuffling back in the bedroom, trying not to wake Reece, he found a pair of jeans, gave
them a sniff test, then yanked them on. He did the same with a T-shirt and left the room.
After cleaning up the mess from last night, he carried the tea tray to the kitchen. He nibbled
on a cookie as he tossed out the old tea and leaves. He set up the coffee machine to make a
strong pot of caffeine nirvana. Snagging his colorful home apron, he tied it around his waist.
Munching on the cookie, he mumbled a song under his breath as he opened the fridge
to peruse the internal offerings. He wanted to entice the man to stick around with breakfast
and conversation. At least, he wanted to talk without yawning.
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Finding the makings for apple cinnamon pancakes, he pulled out everything he needed
from the fridge and pantry. He peeled and cored several apples and tossed them in a food
processor to purée them with a bit of lemon juice. He measured out the rest of the dry
ingredients, adding fresh cinnamon and nutmeg. He combined the wet stuff in another bowl
along with the apples. Before blending them together, he set up a pan of bacon in the oven
and warmed a griddle. He continued to sing and dance as he moved through the kitchen.
Large hands framed his hips. He let out an eep and little jump. Glancing over his
shoulder, he wiggled his nose at a grinning, sleepy Reece. The man had a serious case of bed-
head and scruffy beard, but he was damn gorgeous.
“You left me alone in bed,” Reece said, his voice low and sleepy.
“Umm. Yeah, I did.”
“Why?”
“Umm. Coffee?”
Reece snorted, not believing the excuse.
“Morning,” Mal said.
“Morning,” Reece said with a deep chuckle.
“I’m making apple pancakes and bacon for breakfast.”
“You said bacon. I’m there.”
“Always men and their bacon. What is the crazy appeal?”
“We love our fried meat.”
“Coffee is ready. Go and help yourself. Cream is in the fridge. Sugar is next to the
machine. Cups are above.”
“Damn organized around here,” Reece said.
“What would you expect from a chef?”
“A little relaxed in his home kitchen.”
“Nah, I’m stringent with things around here. Comes from being around Dakota for too
long.”
Reece nuzzled the back of Mal’s neck, brushed his scruffy chin over the sensitive skin
there as his hands skimmed across Mal’s hips.
“Hmm. Scruffy,” Mal said as he relaxed against the gentle touch.
“I can shave.”
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“Nope. I don’t mind. Got some of my own.”
“We can mark each other.”
Turning his head, Mal stared back at Reece, surprised at the man’s words. His eyes
widened when Reece leaned in for a lingering kiss.
“Hmm. What I needed,” Reece said as he pulled away and headed for the coffee.
“Morning…” Mal was a little dazed from the kiss.
Oh, yeah, I could enjoy this every day.
“Lemme finish breakfast,” Mal said and pointed Reece to take a stool. Returning to
singing, he ladled the pancake mix on the griddle and waited to flip when they were golden.
After enjoying the delicious breakfast, Mal was surprised when Reece helped clean up
with him. Reece made sure to brush against him whenever he could.
“Why do you have so small a kitchen? You should own one of those small cottages near
the beach where Sully can create your dream setting,” Reece said as he dried his hands then
drew Mal to the long sectional.
“The condo was all I could afford at the time and I haven’t bothered looking for
something better. I hate moving. I have too much shit.”
Reece chuckled as he flipped on the flat screen. He tugged Mal against him and shifted
them into a comfortable position. Mal snuggled back against him.
“Do you want me to leave?” Reece double-checked with him.
“No, you can stay.”
“Good,” Reece said, nuzzling Mal’s shoulder while tracing a finger in circles around
Mal’s hip bone. He picked up the remote to flip through the channels and find something for
them to watch together. “What is there to watch around this time of the day?”
“No clue. I usually find movies or one of those channels with informative or discovery
shows.”
“Want the remote?”
“Nah, keep clicking through the menu, we’ll find something.”
With a chuckle and another nuzzle, Reece continued to do what Mal had requested
until they decided upon an informative show on an investigation channel.
Several hours of shows and chatting about them and other stuff, finding they enjoyed a
lot of similar things, and Mal moved upon his back. He glanced up into Reece’s gaze.
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“You’re so damn gorgeous,” Reece murmured as he slid his fingers through Mal’s hair,
still uncolored. “Why haven’t you used one of the colors I gave you?”
“Why were you sending the colors?”
“I didn’t want to think about you without your ever present color, especially if I was the
one at fault. I thought I should give you some options.”
“Thank you for all of them, but I’m enjoying my natural color. It’s growing on me the
longer I keep it,” Mal said with a grin.
“Oh, what am I going to do with you?” Reece moved his hand and let his fingers dance
over Mal’s side.
Mal giggled, laughed and bucked under Reece’s fingers.
“So you’re ticklish here, good to know,” Reece teased as he continued to tickle Mal.
When he stopped, Mal held an arm against his aching belly, still laughing, until Reece
captured his open mouth in a delving, deep kiss. Moaning against Reece’s mouth, Mal
moved his hands and slid them into Reece’s hair.
“Can we?” Reece asked when he pulled back.
“Can we fool around?”
“A little bit more than fooling around this time. What do you think?”
“Oh. Yeah,” Mal said. “Yeah.”
“Do you have stuff?”
“In the bedroom.”
Pushing away, Reece got to his feet. He yanked Mal to his. He found the remote and
turned off the television. He flipped Mal on his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, smacked Mal’s
ass when Mal wiggled and laughed. He carried him to the bedroom and lowered Mal back to
his feet. Reece slid his fingers into Mal’s hair. He captured Mal’s mouth in a slow,
demanding kiss. A moan rolled up Mal’s chest as the kiss intensified, vibrating their lips to
add another sensation.
Mal blinked and stared.
Within brief seconds, they were both naked, clothes strewn about. Reece pushed Mal to
drop on the bed. He knelt next to him, cupping the back of Mal’s head. He covered Mal’s
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mouth with his own. Their tongues tangled and dueled. He rolled them until he was in the
center with Mal tucked beneath him.
He pressed against Malcolm, enjoying the way they rubbed against each other. It was
perfect and pleasurable. It made every nerve sing. Malcolm lifted his hips in an invitation to
explore and move things further.
“Please… Please…”
Grasping Mal’s hands and lifting them above his head, Reece captured Malcolm’s lips
for another deep, soothing kiss until the body beneath him relaxed, muscle by muscle. He
nudged their noses together. “Not hurrying this. Not after all this time and the brief taste and
feel of you last time. Oh no, I want way more time with you.” He released Mal’s wrists,
moved to nip Mal’s neck then along every inch of skin available to his starved touch. Staring
down at his beautiful lover, his heart swelled with need along with his cock. He licked his
way down the shivering, shuddering body. “I adore how responsive you are to me.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Get on with it. Fast and hard now, slow later. Fuck me.”
Chuckling against Mal’s skin, he tasted a path along his flat belly button to make him
curse and lift his hips again. “Nope. We’re going slow and hard all the way. Nice and slow so
I don’t miss a thing or precious inch of skin.” He knew what Mal craved. He rubbed his cock
against Mal’s thigh, leaving a smear of pearly pre-cum. He caressed his cheek against the
area around Mal’s pelvis. The curved, waiting cock begged for his attention.
“Stop teasing,” Mal said.
Reece blinked, trying to be all innocent. “I want to be inside you, but I’m having fun
exploring you.”
“You can explore me later. Get in me now or I’m going to slam deep inside you.” Mal
reached out to the nightstand, opened the top drawer, and without looking tossed a condom
and tube of lube in Reece’s direction.
“Okay. Okay. Shit, I would love to feel this inside me,” Reece said, grasping Mal’s cock
to stroke it.
“You would let me top?”
“I don’t give a shit about top and bottom. We’re giving and receiving pleasure from
each other. It’s how I see it with mutual partners and mutual pleasure. Do you enjoy
topping?”
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“Yes, I love getting a chance.”
“Good, but it remains my turn, though.” Reece lowered his head and licked along the
edges and lines of Mal’s lower abdomen, flat from his work and exercise. He couldn’t wait to
taste and touch everything. He continued to stroke Mal’s cock while his dick lengthened and
thickened against his belly.
“Stop…” Mal bopped the top of Reece’s head.
“Ow…”
“Stop it.”
“Sheesh. Trying to make love to a man and I get smacked,” Reece said.
“Love later. Sex now.”
Rolling his eyes, Reece moved and knelt between Mal’s legs. He lifted, opened and
widened his legs, revealing what he wanted. With a shake of his head, he pushed the man’s
hips down and took the length of Mal’s cock in his mouth.
“Holy—” Mal gripped the sheet around either side. His scream strangled as Reece
continue to suck and lick him.
Holding him still with his grip, Reece enjoyed having his way with Mal’s cock, the
flavor and taste of him rolling over his tongue.
“Gonna come. Reece…”
Reece grinned around it and added a hand to his movements, finding the slit with his
tongue. He felt Mal’s body jolt and shudder underneath his grip. Soon, his lover shot his
cum, releasing streams into his mouth. He licked him clean and grinned.
“We have plenty of time. This is only the start,” Reece promised.
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Chapter Twelve
Singing to himself as he strolled into the Charm—his ass twinge reminding him of those
hours of hot, sweaty sex—Mal pushed through the doors into the kitchen. He tied a fresh
apron around his waist, folded the hand towel over the string. He twitched the apron
straight. While switching to a different song, he searched for Dakota to learn what they
needed to accomplish today.
He stopped short, the song dying on his lips, at the sight of the New York pair leaning
against his workstation. Both of them had certain determined expressions on their faces,
Samuel doing it a little better than Chandler.
“We need to talk to you,” Samuel said.
“Okay. What about? Whatever went wrong, I didn’t do it,” Mal said, holding up his
hands.
Samuel narrowed his gaze upon Mal as he tapped his fingers on the nearest counter.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I swear. I’ve been busy during my downtime.”
“Better not have been moping the entire time and sucking down bonbons.”
Mal lifted an eyebrow, leaned a hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his
chest. “One, I’m not a fan of bonbons. If I get chocolate, I prefer truffles. Two, I wasn’t
moping.”
Chandler tapped Samuel’s arm three times and pointed toward Mal’s head.
“Why are you being quiet?” Mal asked.
“Samuel is taking charge. I’m the support,” Chandler said.
“Hmm. How was the chocolate cake?”
“It did its job,” Chandler said with a bright flush.
“Good to know. I’ll have to use the recipe again,” Mal said with a grin. “Does he take
care of you?” If possible, Mal watched the man turned brighter red. “I’ll take your response
as a yes.”
Chandler tapped Samuel’s arm again, unable to speak for a moment.
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“Okay. Okay.”
“Look. Look,” Chandler said, pointing to Mal.
“Look at what?”
Samuel lifted his gaze to take in Mal’s appearance. He focused on the bright purple
streaks Mal had added in this morning. He stepped closer, going nose to nose with Mal since
they were the same height. Samuel wrapped his hand around Mal’s shirt and yanked him
close.
Mal chuckled when Samuel tugged on his purple-streaked ends. “Yes, they’re real and
attached to my scalp. Ouch!”
Samuel released his hair, placed hands on his shoulders, and stared at him. “You’re
feeling better.”
“I am.”
“You put color back in your hair.”
“I did.”
“What’s going on with you?”
“Not telling.”
“Come on…” Samuel whined, slapping a hand on Mal’s shoulder.
“Nope.”
“Mal! Where are you?” Dakota hollered as he entered the kitchen.
“Better scatter, fellas, I got work to do,” Mal said with a grin.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Samuel said, waving a finger in front of Mal’s nose, until
Dakota snagged him in a tight bear hold and swung him away.
“You. Return to your office. He’s my assistant,” Dakota said, smacking a kiss on
Samuel’s lips.
“Sheesh. So possessive,” Samuel said, flicking the chef off with his fingers.
“Love him even when he ticks me off,” Dakota said.
“I heard that!” Samuel said.
He turned back to Mal. His gaze took in the hair. He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re feeling
better.”
“You’re all weird,” Mal said. “I think all of you should get checked out. I’m perfectly
good.”
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Samuel and Chandler chuckled as they left the kitchen.
“Good. Set up the rotisserie. I got a damn good deal on whole chickens. We’ll do a load
of them for lunch and more for dinner rush.”
“You got it, Chef,” Mal said.
“Good to see you’re doing better.”
“Hope things stay good,” Mal said as he walked away.
* * * *
With the radio turned high, Mal and Dorian wiggled their asses as they marinated,
flavored and spitted the five dozen chickens. They concentrated on getting six on the spits
and in the rotisserie for lunch. The rest could take a leisurely spin in the machine for dinner.
Washing his hands after shoving the last of the chickens on the spits, Mal cleaned his
area of the workstation and replaced all the spices and ingredients in their places. He noticed
a task list Dakota had scribbled, crossed off the three flavors of chicken and wrote several
different times when they’d be ready. He tapped the pen near the next item and went to
gather the ingredients for fresh yeast rolls.
“What’s next?” Dorian asked.
“Have you created yeast rolls?”
“Nope.”
“Okay. Need you to measure out the yeast and let it warm to room temperature.”
“Got it.” The younger man rushed off to follow the orders.
With the yeast warming, Mal took him through the rest of the steps. Their hands
became messy and doughy as they stirred everything together and worked the rolls into
form and shape.
Mal jumped as if he was a scared rabbit, splattering dough across Dorian’s face. Long
arms wrapped around his waist and a scruffy chin nuzzled against his neck.
“Eww!” Dorian said as he wiped the blob from his cheek. “Thanks, Reece, good timing
as always.”
Reece chuckled in Mal’s ears before he nipped at Mal’s lower lobe. “Sorry. I keep
forgetting Mal’s a fraidy bunny.”
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“Only when I’m not expecting to be jumped,” Mal said, leaning to the side and looking
behind him at the handsome face. He lifted his doughy fingers and wiggled them in a threat
to flick some dough at Reece.
“Don’t think about it,” Reece warned.
“You deserve it.”
“Nope. I only came to check on you.”
Mal blinked as Dorian went “Aww” next to them. He flicked another glob at the
younger man.
“Hey!”
“I’m teaching the kid how to make yeast rolls. Wanna learn?”
“Much as I would enjoy the process, I prefer to stick my fingers in the good dirt.”
“Ick.”
Reece chuckled and turned Mal until he could plant a long kiss on his lips.
Mal rested his wrists on Reece’s shoulders, since he couldn’t wrap his dirty hands
around him. He opened his mouth to invite a deeper kiss and Reece responded.
“Think upon it while you’re in here. I’ll see you later,” Reece whispered as he pulled
back. “Your place. Tonight.”
“Uh-huh. My place. Tonight.”
Reece chuckled and walked away, whistling to whatever song was playing on the radio.
“Holy! Shit!” Dorian broke the curse in two loud words. He repeated it several times,
each one higher than the previous one until he almost screeched.
“Sheesh. Tone it down, will ya?” Mal said, flicking flour at the kid.
“You did it! With Reece!”
“Umm. Yeah.”
“You did it! Sex! With Reece!”
“Umm. Yeah,” Mal repeated, lifting an eyebrow.
Dorian smacked his shoulder, hard, with a doughy hand. “You didn’t tell me!”
“I told no one.”
“I’m your pal, your friend, your club buddy. You’re supposed to tell me these things.”
“Sorry?”
Dorian pouted and smacked Mal again.
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“Ow! Hey…” Mal glared at the mess on his shirt. “Go wash your hands before you
come back. This better come off my shirt.”
Dorian grumbled as he stalked off to the sink, peeling dough from his fingers.
Mal shook his head, but he couldn’t wait until tonight with Reece. His ass clenched at
the thought of taking his lover’s thick cock deep inside.
Oh yeah, it is gonna be good.
* * * *
Right after they’d walked into the condo’s door, Reece swept Mal into a tight embrace.
His lips crushed against Mal’s mouth, his tongue demanded entrance. Mal relaxed within
Reece’s hold. Mal opened and responded to Reece’s demands and kiss. Reece moved a hand
to grab Mal’s ass and tug him close, urging him to press against his abdomen and thighs. He
traced the vertebrae bumps down Mal’s spine and joined his other hand. With a lift, he
encouraged Mal to wrap his legs around his hips.
“Never thought another man would carry me about,” Mal teased.
Reece bounced him a few times in his arms. “I can handle you.” He adjusted his hands
on the bubble butt, enjoying the feel of the round globes of flesh.
“Oh yeah, you got a handle.”
Reece laughed as he carried Mal to the bedroom and tossed him on the bed. “Strip and
stay there.”
Ready to combust with the need to take this man, Reece tore out of his clothes in record
speed.
Launching himself on the bed, Reece grappled with Mal to gain control and forced
slender wrists above Mal’s head. A triumphant grin was on his face. “Gotcha.”
“Whatcha gonna do to me?”
“Hmm. Perhaps leave you for a few hours while I go watch a movie or something. I do
believe I have some paperwork.”
Growling with need, Mal wiggled under Reece halfway through his list of options.
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Shifting both wrists to one hand, Reece slid his hands across the smooth abdomen to
satisfy and quiet his lover. The slight shift of Mal’s breathing changed with the caress.
Leaning over, he licked Mal’s lips, asking for permission to enter.
With a sigh and moan, Mal opened to the invasion and Reece took advantage. Mal
tugged his wrists free to trail his hands down Reece’s body and capture his hardened cock
with one hand.
Reece moaned into Mal’s mouth as his lover caressed and stroked his needy cock. He
wanted to watch those elegant hands touching him, but he didn’t want to leave his perfect
lips. Their mouths melded, Reece demanding more with his tongue and a heated response
from Mal. He lowered one hand to cover Mal’s hand around his cock, together stroking him
with firm strokes. He moved one of Mal’s hands to tug gently on his balls.
“Please, oh, please. Touch my cock…”
“Shh…” Reece murmured and kissed his way down Mal’s sweaty body. He licked
around the taut nibbles, nibbling them, then laved his belly button. He grasped the root of
Mal’s cock, licked around the corona, then pressed his tongue against the slit, catching the
droplets of salty pre-cum.
“You better get inside me now or I’m gonna have all the fun,” Mal demanded.
Crawling up the bed, Reece shoved a hand under the pillow where they’d left lube and
condoms last night. He groaned when Mal opened and raised his legs back. Reece poured
lube on his fingers, rubbed them around the opening, tapping at it, then with steady pressure
he pushed a finger inside. He twisted it and Mal cried out with his approval. When Mal lifted
his hips, their cocks rubbed together. Reece added a second finger to stretch him. He
pumped them hard, scissoring them to prepare Mal to take his cock.
“Now… Damn it, now,” Mal pleaded.
After sending a third finger to finish, Reece pulled them out. He covered his cock with
the condom, slathered lube on it, and lined himself up. He thrust forward with steady
pressure, leaning over to capture Mal’s mouth. He groaned when the delicious tight heat
enclosed him.
“Harder, Reece, fuck me hard,” Mal said as he wrapped his legs around Reece’s hips
and grabbed his ass.
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“With pleasure,” Reece said as he pulled back then snapped his hips forward. He
continued to draw back, slam forward, and Mal met every thrust.
Sweat covered their bodies. Reece’s balls pulled against his body. He grasped Mal’s
cock, and with a few firm strokes in time with his frantic thrusts, Mal yelled his release as he
spurted ropes of cum over Reece’s hand and their bellies. Within seconds, Reece called out
and released his cum. He collapsed against Mal, resting his weight on his forearms as their
foreheads touched, their breaths mixed.
“Damn. One of these days, you’re gonna kill me,” Reece said, kissing Mal before he
pulled out and dealt with the condom. He found a cloth to clean them then tossed it aside.
“Yeah. Yeah. You’re a grumpy old man,” Mal said with a yawn and curled to his side.
Spooning close, Reece drifted off to sleep with Mal in his arms. Some kind of good
karma managed to happen to keep him close to this blessing of a wonderful man. He didn’t
want anything to change.
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Chapter Thirteen
Several weeks later, construction progressed on both the inside and the outside of the
Charm, and created havoc for almost everyone working. Dakota had ended up closing the
restaurant for several nights to save them the hassle of their customers dealing with the
chaos. Chandler and Samuel complained and argued about the possible financial hitch, but
they listened to Dakota’s reasoning. They remained open to feed all the crews and those who
lived within the Charm.
Mal joined in to help Dakota, taking over many additional positions to let others take
the time on half pay so they could still handle their personal finances. There were some
general outcries and complaints, but they handled everything. Dakota offered to be a guest
chef at some of the local places and disappeared several nights to join other restaurants.
Even if there wasn’t a need to cook, Mal stayed at the Charm to hang out with Samuel,
Chandler, and Dorian. If needed, he would offer help to Sully and his crew to tear things
down.
The power went on the fritz and died, to everyone’s horror. Both Chandler and Samuel
let out screams and howls of pure distress at losing work. If things weren’t so desperate, Mal
would have fallen on the ground in gales of laughter at their over-the-edge response.
When Donnie, owner of a local electrician company, arrived with a couple of
employees, he tried to fire up the panel, but sparks flew and the server went berserk and
crashed. There were more screams and hollers from Chandler and Samuel.
Mal hung out in the kitchen doorway, watching Donnie and his employees racing about
to figure out what had happened, what was affected, what was lost, and what options were
available to them. Sully jogged from the electrical room to the offices and other places.
“You’re on lap three. You’re catching up to Donnie. He’s on five,” Mal said as the
sweaty carpenter hustled by again.
He got a full bird salute in answer.
Mal laughed.
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“Chandler, quiet, I’ll figure it out. We’ll get things back up and running,” Samuel said
as he appeared in the hallway with the crazed accountant behind him. “Mal… Good. Is there
a local IT company or something in town?”
“Yeah, there’s Courtenay Tech,” Mal said. “Beau Courtenay is the tech guru you’ll need
to speak with. If he’s back, he’ll come over.”
“Back? Where is he back from?”
“England. He went over there a few months ago to manage his father’s companies
while he recovered from a heart attack.”
“Crap, I hope he is. We’re down for the count.”
“I noticed things are down. Donnie and Sully are doing laps around the Charm to
figure things out.”
“Who’s in the lead?”
“Donnie.”
Samuel chuckled and wiggled his phone. “Do you have his number?”
“Oh, for Beau, yeah, hang on a moment,” Mal said, pulling out his phone then
thumbing through the contacts list. “He fixed my netbook after a damn Trojan virus and mal-
ware attacked and crashed it. Managed to recover most of my data too.” He found the
contact and opened it to call out the digits to Samuel.
Tapping the numbers in his phone, Samuel turned the phone to speaker.
“Courtenay Tech, this is Maggie. How can I help you?” a lady asked over the phone.
“Hello, Maggie, my name is Samuel Ashford. I’m the new co-owner of the Southern
Charm. How are you this afternoon?”
“Hello, Mr Ashford, a pleasure to meet you. I heard a lot about you and your family’s
company. I’m doing well, how about you?”
“Not so well. We had a bad electrical outage here with all the commotion and
construction. It knocked out everything in the IT end. We’re dead in the water. I was hoping
to speak to or have Mr Courtenay come to the Charm and look things over. We’re going to
need several new desktop systems, a server, several printers and scanners, and a new front
desk system. I believe he upgraded the restaurant’s system.”
“Oh, wow, I’m sorry to hear about all the trouble.” Maggie tapped several times on a
laptop. “Mr Courtenay is back from England and dealing with several appointments. He gets
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a break between them in an hour. I can send him in your direction for an assessment and
bid.”
“Perfect. I look forward to seeing him. Tell him not to wear his good shoes or clothes.
Things are a mess.”
Maggie laughed. “I’ll make sure he understands. Do you think he’ll need to replace all
of the lines?”
“I have a feeling he should replace everything. The walls are open to the studs in most
places and if he needs more, one of Sully’s crew can accommodate him.”
“Perfect. I’ll make a note of it. Beau will see you in about an hour. Should he ask for
you?”
“Yes. Someone will find me.”
“Okay. Thank you for calling Courtenay Tech,” Maggie said.
“Thanks, Maggie,” Samuel said then hung up. He turned and banged his forehead
against the nearest wall. “Why? Why?”
Listening in, Mal grinned at Samuel’s reaction. He saw Donnie huffing past them. “Lap
six, Donnie, you’re ahead of Sully, but he’s gaining.”
The older man flipped Mal a bird.
“Want a cup of water with the next lap?”
Another salute poked around the corner as the electrician disappeared.
“Are you enjoying watching them?”
“Yeah, this is great fun. As for your situation, it’s an old building with crappy old
wires.” Mal suggested. “I can help you feel a bit better.”
“How?”
“I made fresh scones.”
Samuel turned his head against the wall with a hopeful puppy-dog-eye look. “What
kind?”
“Cinnamon chip.”
“Oooh. Gimme.”
Laughing, Mal led Samuel into the kitchen where he chose a fresh scone from the rack.
“Want it warmer?”
Samuel touched the top and shook his head. “It’s good. Got coffee or tea?”
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“Fresh pot of coffee over there.” Mal pointed to the large containers.
“Ahh. Precious java.” Samuel clutched his scone close and went to fill a cup.
“Ah-ha! You care nothing about my troubles! You’re in here filling your mouth with…”
Chandler said as he appeared in the doorway, pointing his finger at Samuel, then moved
closer to sniff and study. “Is that a fresh scone? How did you get one? Last time I checked
there weren’t any more of them.”
Samuel pointed to Mal, who held his hands up in defeat.
Chandler glared at Mal. “You made them and didn’t offer me anything. How dare
you?”
“Sorry. Sorry. With all the chaos around here, I forgot. Here. Have whatever you want,”
Mal said. He gathered three napkins and another scone. Holding them out like a true peace
offering, he let Chandler snatch it from him.
“Oooh. Yummy,” Chandler said, appeased with the food. “‘Dank you.”
Mal chuckled as Chandler thanked him with a full mouth. “Would you like to wash
them down with coffee? It’s a fresh brew.”
“Java…”
“Enough said.” Mal rolled his eyes. He turned to the coffee urn and poured two cups
full. He pushed them in front of each man to let them doctor the brew however they wished.
Adding sugar to his cup, Samuel stirred it within then addressed Chandler’s earlier
request once their need for food and java was appeased. “I’m not ignoring your troubles and
woes. I called the local IT company. Maggie is sending the owner to help us. He’s coming
from another client and should be here within an hour.”
“In an hour? But I can’t wait that long,” Chandler whined.
“Whine again and I’ll snatch the scone back,” Mal warned.
“Mine…” Chandler clutched the scone close.
Mal sighed and waved them out of his kitchen. “Go. Shoo. Whine and cry somewhere
else.”
“Where? We can’t do anything and everywhere was covered in clutter and debris. Do
you know what this is doing to my OCD?” Chandler nibbled on one corner.
“Crap,” Mal muttered.
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“You could always ask him what he’s doing with Reece Simpson,” Dorian called out,
appearing in the back doorway.
“What…?” Samuel pulled his eyebrows together and stared at Mal. “What are you
doing with Reece Simpson?”
“Dorian…” Mal said in a warning the teenager didn’t pay an ounce of attention to.
“They’re doing the naughty, sweaty, heated stuff that leaves tantalizing wet spots on
the sheets. Of course, I still don’t know all the details since I’m searching for the perfect man,
but I imagine the good stuff beyond the crappy gay porn I find,” Dorian teased as he poured
a cup of coffee and snitched a scone. He left them on the counter and gathered stools around
for them to sit and stare at Mal.
Groaning as Dorian went on, Mal covered his face with a hand and knew he was going
to get an earful. He watched the three of them line up opposite him. The stretch of
engineered stone countertop remained between them along with the disappearing pile of
scones and coffee urn. After pouring another cup of coffee, Mal sipped the dark brew for the
extra burst of caffeine he needed to handle these three nosy gossips. He munched a scone
and admired the different tastes and textures he’d created with the original recipe.
“Ooh, I wanna hear more about sweaty, heated stuff,” Samuel said.
“Doesn’t Dakota give you enough?” Mal asked with a lifted eyebrow.
“Yeah, but doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear about others.”
Mal let out a long sigh.
“So…” Samuel said with a grin as he dropped his head on a hand. “What were you
doing in the dark with the handsome landscaper?”
“What do you think?”
“Oooh. You have him entwined around your little finger and panting like a puppy after
you. I can tell you two had sex. Lots and lots of it,” Samuel gloated, almost bouncing on his
stool. “It’s why you put the color back in your hair.”
“Yes. Sex. Lots.”
“What’s wrong with having sex with someone you’ve wanted for years?” Chandler
asked in his perspective fashion.
“Nothing. It’s wonderful. I don’t know if I’m an interesting fling to him or something
more,” Mal said.
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“Do you want to be more?” Samuel asked.
“Yes.” Mal sighed and took another sip of coffee.
“What? He probably has no clue what to do beyond the sex. I’m sure you can nudge
him along. What’s the usual pattern he does? I’m well versed in patterns and numbers,”
Chandler said.
“He finds me during the day. He’ll whisper about meeting me at night and how he
can’t wait to have me. It gets me all hot and ready for him. I get home and he’s there within
minutes after me. Lots of hot sex throughout the night and a bit of cuddling sleep. He’s out
by dawn to go to his place for a shower and change of clothes.” Mal traced a finger around
one of the swirls of colors created within the stone. “It’s the same every night.”
“Okay. Why are you complaining? You’re having lots of non-stop hot sex versus those
of us, namely me, who are having absolutely none, zero and nada sex.” Dorian raised his
hands in a scale fashion and moved them in accordance with his words.
“It’s always the same pattern. We’re at my place for the night and he’s gone by dawn. I
haven’t been to his place. We barely talk outside of what we’re doing.” Mal shook his head.
“You feel he’s keeping things at a certain point to enjoy an itch and nothing further,”
Chandler said.
Mal nodded.
“Crap,” Samuel added and the others agreed.
A knock on the frame caused everyone to leave Mal alone for a moment as they turned
to see who was interrupting. Mal let out a brief sigh of relief.
“Hey there, did someone call for IT?”
“Hey, Beau, come on in. Want coffee and scones?” Mal said when he recognized the
British accent. “How was London?”
“No, I’m good on food. Cloudy and rainy as usual,” Beau said as he entered the
kitchen. “Hello, I’m Beau Courtenay, owner of Courtenay Tech. Who is Samuel?”
“Me, I’m Samuel Ashford, new co-owner of the Charm. Thanks for getting us into your
schedule,” Samuel said, stepping forward and shaking Beau’s hand.
“No problem. What’s going on?”
“Some kind of blow-out of power, which took out all of the IT stuff. Donnie is here to
give Sully a hand on the electric side, but I called for you too.”
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“Okay. Let me go find them and we’ll start our investigation into the problem. I can
discuss details with you later,” Beau said.
“Sounds good,” Samuel said.
“Please. Please. I need my tech back,” Chandler said.
Beau chuckled. “I’ll do what I can to get you guys up and running. I’ll take you up on
the coffee later, if things drag out, Mal. Good to meet everyone.” He turned and walked into
the darkness with a flashlight in hand.
“Oooh. What a delicious British accent,” Samuel said, rubbing his hands together.
“Wonder if I can get the chef to talk dirty with an accent?”
“He’ll smack you upside the head,” Mal said.
Everyone laughed and went back to hashing out Mal’s relationship problems. He
finally kicked them out a bit later. He continued to dwell on the problems ahead of him. He
found himself making another batch of scones and several types of cookie to keep occupied
and fill the empty stomachs of the guys working in and around the Charm.
Hopeful that the blackout situation would get better with Beau and Donnie, Mal
cleaned things after his baking spree.
“Hey, handsome, it smells good in here.”
Turning at the sound of Reece’s voice, Mal tossed the paper towel in the nearest
wastebasket and washed his hands. “Hey there, plant man.”
“Plant man?”
“Best I could come up with off the top of my head.”
Reece chuckled as he walked over. He pressed a kiss to Mal’s temple, not daring to
touch him further since he didn’t clean up. ”Whatcha baking?”
“I’m working on another batch of scones and cookies.”
“What kind of cookies?”
“Chocolate chip. Oatmeal raisin. Snickerdoodles.”
“Damn, my mouth is watering in anticipation.” Reece went to the sink and cleaned
some of the dirt and sweat from his face and arms. After drying off, he tossed out the towels.
Returning to Mal’s side, he nuzzled Mal’s neck. “Hey there.”
Mal moaned at the gentle touch.
“When will the snickerdoodles be ready?”
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“They’ll be ready in a half hour.”
“What can we do until they’re ready? Hmm. Choices. Choices.” Reece grinned as he
poured himself a cup of coffee.
“We can talk about what is happening.”
“We’re together and having fun,” Reece said as he took a long sip.
“We’re in private and my home all the time. You spend the night with me and
disappear by dawn.”
“What are you saying?”
“You come by in the afternoon, suggest another evening together, and appear at my
door. You spend the night and disappear as the sun rises.”
Reece raised an eyebrow and snorted in disbelief. “Mal, please, I thought you enjoy our
nights together.”
“I do enjoy our nights, but there’s nothing more.” Mal lifted his fingers as he ticked off
several more points. “We don’t go out. I’ve never seen your home. Our time together is all
about sex, nothing else. This isn’t a relationship. I want more with you.”
“There’s nothing spectacular to my home, I’m barely there. I have plants all over,
testing different hybrids. It isn’t a home.”
“Fine, it’s no problem at how I want to see your home. Spend time with you there, in
your personal environment, instead of only being at my place. I know my place. I know me. I
don’t know you.”
“You know me. Please… What is going on here?”
Mal took a breath to calm his anger. “Except for the first weekend, you don’t spend the
morning or day with me lounging about and doing nothing. It’s a bit of warming me up
during the day, have sex at night, and take off for your other life.”
“Do you want me to stay, use your shower, and bring clothes over to change into? Is
this what you want?”
“It would help. You’re welcome to use my stuff. Since I turned you down, you haven’t
offered another night out. Other than the night at the club, I haven’t gone anywhere with
you.”
“Does everyone here suspect we’re sleeping together?”
“Yeah, they know we’re having sex. We’re not in a relationship.”
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“From what I understand, we’re having a relationship.”
“This isn’t a relationship according to my standards.”
“What the hell do you want from me?”
“I’m an active part of wanting something more. Give me more attention than with your
damn cock,” Mal snapped, slamming his hand on the counter.
Reece poured out the last of his coffee, left it in the sink, then walked out of the kitchen
without another word.
Mal whirled to remove the cookies from the oven when the timers went off, shoved
them in containers the second they were cooled, set the pans in the washer, then went home.
* * * *
Pissed and mopey, Mal yanked the sheets off his bed covered in Reece’s scent for a deep
cleaning and remade the bed with fresh sheets. He stared at his reflection in his bedroom
mirror. He sprayed Febreeze throughout the living room to remove the lingering cologne.
After finding a lighter, he lit several candles to add a different fragrance.
Turning on the TV, Mal flipped channels until he found a special on Ian Fleming and
creating the James Bond films. He was an addict when it came to those films. Part of him
yearned for James Bond to be gay, or at least bisexual and give him a chance. Of course his
name didn’t have the good tone for a super-secret agent and he hated guns. Dropping on the
sofa, Mal watched the salivating documentary.
When the washer had finished, he shoved the wet sheets in the dryer and set the timer.
After making the decision to remove the hair color, he peeled off his clothes, grabbed the
bottle of shampoo and baking soda, and stepped into the shower.
Standing under the harsh, heated flow, he watched purple-colored water swirl around
the drain. He scrubbed and cleansed several times to remove the rest. Stepping out, he dried
his hair and body. He combed the damp strands with his fingers, but left it alone as he
dressed in ratty sweats and T-shirt.
When he started to make a pot of tea, he heard the door rattle, knocking, and several
hits on the ringer. Grimacing, he changed direction. He had an inkling as to who would be
on the other side. He opened the door and stared at the unwanted visitor.
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“What are you doing here?”
Reece stepped back, shoved hands in pockets, and waited him out.
“Well? I didn’t make plans with you,” Mal said.
“I thought we didn’t need plans.”
“Do you think it’s now implied I’ll open my door and ass to you anytime, anywhere,
and anyplace you want?”
“Damn, I never thought you would think sex is all I want with you. I don’t know how
to give you more.”
“You gave me the flowers and gifts with a careful thought. Why not give me more than
a night of sex?”
Reece stared down at the floor.
“Nothing. You have nothing.”
“I need time to figure out my life.”
“That’s your answer? Time.”
“There are things I need to work through. Please, don’t be angry with me.” Reece
braced his hands against the door frame, leaned over, and kissed Mal’s lips. “Goodnight.”
“Goodbye.” Mal stepped back and closed the door. He returned to the kitchen and
finished his pot of tea. He plopped across the sofa, finished watching the documentary and
stayed on the channel to watch the marathon of the early Bond films.
Why couldn’t it be an easy choice for them? Why must everything be so hard for him?
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Chapter Fourteen
Over a week later, Dorian persisted in following Mal around the Charm and beyond.
Things were still in shutdown mode with the continuous extension of the construction, the
troubles with the electrical, and the IT system shutdown and complete rebuild.
Dorian appeared on Mal’s doorstep with two large pizzas and two pints of Ben &
Jerry’s ice cream. One pint was Mal’s favorite, Chocolate Therapy, while the other was
Dorian’s favorite, Chocolate Fudge Brownie.
“What are you doing?” Mal stared between the pizzas and ice cream.
“Tempting you to divulge all your secrets and learn about what the hell is happening
now.” Dorian lifted and lowered the offers.
“Get in here,” Mal said. “Shove the ice cream in the freezer.”
“Yes, sir.” Chuckling, Dorian stepped out of his shoes and entered. He went to the
kitchen, placed the pints in the freezer, found plates and napkins, then carried everything
into the living room. He set his offerings on the coffee table and flipped open both boxes.
“Loaded or chicken mushroom bacon.”
Mal lifted several slices of the chicken one on a plate. He hit a button on a remote to
start the screen.
“What are we watching?”
Mal named an older black and white movie.
“Ooh. Good movie.”
Dorian let things fall quiet between them during the movie and pizza. It was only a
change of movies and pints of ice cream that loosened the tension.
“What happened? Did you talk to Reece?” Dorian placed another scoop of ice cream in
his mouth and let it sit on his tongue and melt.
“Told him I wanted more. He wanted time to think, and left. We haven’t spoken since,”
Mal said. He slid another loaded spoonful in his mouth.
“How bad was it?”
It took several more spoonfuls and Mal spilled the entire conversation.
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Once Mal got it all out, their pints were almost empty and their bellies full.
“I say we go to the club to dance, drink, and sweat,” Dorian suggested. “I wanna get
my Tigger-bounce on full throttle.”
“What? Tonight?”
“Tomorrow we’ll go. No excuses. We’re going.”
Mal glanced at his friend and smiled. “Thanks.”
Dorian nudged Mal’s shoulder with a fist.
* * * *
As promised, Dorian arrived at Mal’s place, dressed in club clothes, and helped Mal
choose an awesome outfit of black cargo pants with a thin wallet to hide Mal’s ID, cash, and a
couple of cards. Dorian searched through the closet after kicking out Mal’s favorite brogues
and came out with a slinky and sparkly deep cognac-colored shirt that highlighted the lighter
specks in Mal’s irises.
Dorian found a bottle of gel and squeezed some out. After Mal had dressed, Dorian ran
his hands through his friend’s hair, worked the natural waves and curls. He washed his
hands, tugged Mal to the bathroom, and lined his eyes with a dark charcoal, a touch of
mascara to highlight the long lashes, and dusting of bronzer to perk up the pale skin. He
squirted Mal’s favorite cologne in the right places. Finished, he turned Mal to face the mirror.
“Damn, you’re good,” Mal said as he leaned over to stare at his image. His eyes were
brighter and more gold than brown thanks to the shirt and liner.
“I try. Grab your keys and let’s get going. I need to get my Tigger-bounce going.”
A half-hour later, they entered the pulse-pounding, eye-blinding club full of people
with shirts off, grinding against each other—gorgeous gays filling the dance floors. It was
another night of crazy fun.
Dorian tugged Mal to the bar. This night, Mal added alcohol and knocked it back. Mal
ignored Dorian’s lifted eyebrow.
Once they’d got something in their system, they waded into the crowd and joined in the
dance.
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Mal closed his eyes and let his body flow and swayed with the other heated bodies
around him. Several more men surrounded him. They followed his body and direction as
they ground against him. Letting one hand fall on gel-crisp hair, he leaned against the
stranger. He continued to let their bodies do the talking on the floor.
Throughout the night, Mal drank more, danced more, and let others grind against him.
Some whispered in his ear about how sexy he was and how they wanted him. Mal was damn
tempted as a tall body curled against his back, a hot, long cock pressed against his ass, arms
wrapped around his front and one hand cupping his cock while the other let fingers splay
across his lower belly.
On the leading edge of being drunk, Mal wanted to listen to the man’s promises of an
evening full of hot sex. He lifted his hands to sink them in the man’s hair. Lips surrounded in
a short goatee brush against his neck, the prickles tickling his skin.
“What the fuck is going on around here?”
No fucking way! It can’t be!
Mal’s eyes opened and he stared at a furious Reece standing over him and his chosen
dancing partner.
“Who is this, baby?” his dancing partner, Eddie, asked.
“An ex. No one special,” Mal said.
“What…? Malcolm, please, we can talk about this and figure out what is happening.
Come home with me, please,” Reece said, holding out his hand.
“He’s staying here with me. I’m taking him home,” Eddie said.
“You have no idea who he is other than he’s a damn good dancer,” Reece snapped at
the man. “Shut the fuck up. You have no business in this conversation.”
“Don’t I? My hand is on his cock. It’s my dick pressed against his ass. He chose me.”
Mal closed his eyes, hating how they were fighting over him. He wasn’t a fucking chew
toy.
“Malcolm, please, let me take you home,” Reece said, stepping in to push Eddie away.
“Mal’s staying with me. You’re the ex. You can leave,” Eddie said as he twisted them
away.
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The movement knocked the unsteady Mal off his feet. He almost fell—if it hadn’t been
for Eddie’s grip. He struggled and pushed away from both of them. At the same time, Reece
snapped, jumped forward, and slammed a fist into Eddie’s chin.
“What the fuck!” Mal shouted as Eddie dropped.
“He knocked you around. He had no business touching you,” Reece said.
“You had no business being here! You walked away from me.” Mal pushed his hands
against Reece’s chest. “Fuck this shit.” He waved a hand and walked off the floor.
“Malcolm!”
“Don’t you dare fucking follow me!”
“Mal!”
Ignoring all calls after him, Mal left the club in a heated frenzy.
* * * *
Banging his hand on the steering wheel several times, cursing, Mal drove faster than
normal through the quiet streets of Shore Breeze. He jerked and yanked into a parking spot.
After turning off the engine, he kicked open the door. He took his anger out on his poor car.
He stalked down the boardwalk to the beach. After kicking off the brogues, he raced to the
wave-packed sand. He crouched and grabbed handfuls. He rose, threw them into the
crashing waves, screaming at the top of his lungs. Pacing and stomping, at times screaming
and yelling, Mal worked through his anger.
Stopping when a bright light caused him to wince, he turned, hands on hips.
“Simpson, you better leave me the fuck alone! I swear I’m liable to knock your ass in the
ocean and let the currents take your body away. I wouldn’t fucking care!” Mal shouted at the
tall dark frame behind the light.
The male figure continued to walk closer toward him. Mal moved his stance, ready to
fight.
“Malcolm? What are you doing out here? I’ve been getting calls about some lunatic
ranting and raving for the last hour,” someone called to him.
Mal closed his eyes and cursed several times in his head.
It was the sheriff.
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“Malcolm?” Sheriff Robin Burke lowered the powerful flashlight between them. He
leaned forward and sniffed. “Are you drunk? Did you get behind the wheel in this
condition?”
Mal cursed.
“You’re coming with me,” Robin said, snagging Mal by the back of his shirt before he
could race away.
“Come on. Lemme go home. I’ll stop,” Mal protested, tugging at the grip.
“Let you get back in your car drunk? I don’t think so.” Robin paused at the end of the
boardwalk. He helped Mal bend to scoop up his shoes. “Keep moving, Mal.”
“Come on. Lemme go,” Mal said then hiccupped and burped hard. “Oh shit…” He
pressed a hand to his mouth.
“Are you gonna…”
Before Robin had finished, Mal leaned over to the side and retched the remnants of the
drinks into the bushes. When he’d finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand
and spit.
“Better?”
“No. Feel horrible.”
“Yeah, I bet. Wait until the morning when you get hit with the backlash,” Robin said as
he opened the back door of the SUV. “Do I need to put handcuffs on and push you inside?”
Miserable with the situation, Mal shook his head.
“Climb up and sit on the edge, facing me. Don’t think about moving.”
Mal did as he’d been told, but was not happy. Robin went to the back, moved things
around, and returned with a mobile breathalyzer test.
“Come on, Sheriff… Don’t need…” He stopped when the Sheriff shoved the end in his
mouth.
“Breathe out. Hard. Now.”
Mal breathed hard into the damn machine. He exhaled until he almost passed out from
the exertion, grateful when Robin told him to stop and let the machine do its job.
The machine beeped and a printout appeared.
Robin ripped it off and checked the number. “You’re over the legal limit, Malcolm.”
“Fuck…” Mal dropped his head in one hand.
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“You know better than doing this. What the hell possessed you to drive drunk?”
“Got pissed off and left the club.”
“Pissed off at…Reece? You called out his name. What does Reece have to do with this?”
“Everything!”
Robin waited, arms crossed over his chest, but Mal said nothing. He held out his hand.
“Give me your keys, wallet, and phone.”
Silent, Mal lifted a hip and dug into his pocket. He slapped the items on Robin’s hand.
He swung his legs inside the vehicle and grimaced when Robin shut the door. There were no
interior handles for him to escape by.
“I don’t know what to do with you, Mal,” Robin said as he climbed in and drove them
away from the beach.
“What about my car?”
“I’ll ask someone to pick it up for you,” Robin said, glancing in the rear-view mirror to
his passenger.
“SB-A. SB-A, come back. This is Base.”
Robin picked up the microphone and clicked the button. “This is SB-A, Base. Found
problem on beach. Heading back to base.”
“Understood, SB-A.”
Mal sneered, hoping that Robin caught his expression in the mirror. “Oooh. A for
Alpha. Huh?”
“Gonna be a smart-ass drunk, aren’t you?”
“Yup. Gonna enjoy the high while I got it.”
Robin tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Are you going to cooperate with me?”
“Are you gonna arrest me?”
“I’m thinking about it. At least give you one helluva fine for your damn behavior and
driving under the influence.”
Mal slumped lower in the seat and grimaced as the station appeared faster than he
wanted.
Walking into the station with the sheriff guiding him was not how Mal had wanted to
end this horrible evening. The lingering alcohol made his belly floppy, and his head was
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pounding and swirling. He wanted to be home, stripped and passed out across his bed. He
waited to see what the sheriff would do to him.
“Hello there, Sheriff,” an officer said behind the main desk as he looked away from the
phones.
According to the handy dandy sign, which blurred in Mal’s compromised position, he
read this was the evening Administration Commander Jordan Brittany. He wondered what
an ‘Evening Administration Commander’ did as his mind swirled with various possibilities
and issues.
“Evening, Jordan.”
“Who do you have here?”
“This is our beach prowler. I’m going to put him in a holding cell to cool his heels and
think about what could happen while I make my decision about what to do with him,” Robin
said and placed Mal’s personal items on the desk. “Put these in an envelope with the name
Bissette for holding.”
“Yes, sir,” Jordan said as he located a fresh envelope and information sheet. He wrote
down all the pertinent description of each item, even opened the slender case to describe the
contents, and slid everything inside the envelope. He sealed it with special tape and signed
with his initials and date. The sheriff countersigned it.
“Mr Bissette, please sign and date here to acknowledge these are your personal items.
They will be returned to you upon release.” Jordan pushed the paper across the counter with
a pen.
Mal glanced at Robin, who lifted an eyebrow, then he signed his name.
“Mug shot and prints, sir?”
“Yes, take him through the process. Let him keep his clothes. Put him in Holding A,”
Robin said.
“Ahh, Lancaster picked up Henry during his rounds. He’s in A.”
Robin grimaced. “Move Bissette to B. I don’t want Henry to wake up and holler.” He
glanced at Malcolm, who listened with wide eyes. “Behave yourself or you’ll be cuffed. Got
it?”
Malcolm nodded slowly.
“I need to check on some things and will find you in holding to talk over your options.”
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“Yes, Sheriff,” Malcolm said, subdued at the idea of going through the booking process.
He’d screwed up big time. He noticed that Robin didn’t hand over the breathalyzer report.
“Come around to this side, please,” Jordan said then pointed to the left side, away from
where Robin had walked away.
Licking his lips, Malcolm followed Jordan’s direction. He stood in different positions in
front of a background for a series of mug shots. He pressed one hand to a screen for his
fingerprints then his other hand. He signed another booking sheet.
“Step through and head to the left again,” Jordan said, pointing in the direction.
Malcolm waited by the door of an open holding cell. Across the hallway, he saw a pile
under a blanket on a bench in the other cell. There was loud, obnoxious snoring. “Henry?”
“Yup, he’s the town’s local drunk and cast-off. We pick him up, give him a place to
sleep off his latest binge, push food down his throat, and let him take a shower. If we have
clothes, we’ll toss them over so he has a new set. It’s all the help he takes, nothing else. Robin
doesn’t have the heart to book and fine the man,” Jordan said, opening the lock and door.
“Go on inside. A folded blanket is under the bench.”
“Do I get a call or anything?”
“The sheriff will talk to you about your options. For now, you’ll sit and wait.”
“Right. Right,” Mal said, stepping inside the cell.
The bars clanged shut. A lock turned to shut him inside.
Mal shivered and wrapped arms around his body as he went to the bench. He yanked
the blanket around his body, dressed in his club clothes and dampened from the surf, and
curled up on the bench.
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Chapter Fifteen
After falling asleep in spite of the horrendous snoring and uncomfortable bench, Mal
opened his eyes at a banging noise and looked around. Seconds later it sank in that he was’
in a frigging holding cell. Shoving hands through his hair, he held his head between them.
“I fucked up.”
“Yup.”
Blinking, he raised his gaze to meet Robin’s stare on the opposite side of the bars.
“I fucked up. Since Dakota added me to the family, I haven’t screwed up this big.”
“I know. You’ve been one hell of a responsible kid. It’s why I can’t understand why you
decided to do this tonight.”
“I’m all twisted up inside.” Mal scrubbed a hand over his bristled chin. He glanced back
at Robin.
“We’ll talk about it. Get up and come here,” Robin said as he unlocked the cell and
motioned for him to step out.
“What time is it?”
“About five in the morning,” Robin said.
Releasing the tight grip on his bent legs, Mal grimaced as the muscles protested. He
stood and tossed the blanket down. He stretched his hands over his head and heard his spine
creak and crack. When he’d finished, he stepped toward Robin.
“Follow me,” Robin said. He led him across the open area of the station.
There were several more officers behind the desks—most had been to the Delights, and
probably recognized him. He lowered his gaze to the floor as he followed the sheriff.
Stepping inside the office, he jumped when Robin closed the door.
“Sit down.” Robin pointed to a chair.
Mal dropped where told, crossing arms around his body. “How long was I asleep?”
“Several hours and you needed it.” Robin pulled a pair of water bottles from a small
fridge and held one toward Mal. “Drink this. You need to hydrate after your night out.”
“Thanks.” Mal cracked open the bottle and drank half of it.
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“Need the facilities?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Hungry?”
“A little.”
Robin pulled out several bags of chips and tossed them over. “Sorry, all I have at the
moment. I haven’t had a chance to restock.” He settled behind the wide desk, the leather
chair creaking under his size. “Need some aspirin?”
“Got any handy?”
Robin opened another drawer and tossed a packet of aspirin across the desk.
Mal fumbled to open the packaging and let the pills drop in his mouth. He chased them
down with more water. “What happens now?”
“We need to talk about how you’re going to pay for what happened.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll accept your decision.”
“I’m going to give you a ticket for a DUI, but I’m not going to formally charge you or
bring you in front of a judge. Still, I want this little escapade to sink into your skull and hurt
your wallet.”
“Okay,” Mal said as he clutched the bottle harder.
“The fine will be two hundred and fifty dollars since this is your first arrest. Instead of a
jail sentence, you’ll be required to complete forty hours of community service, another
twelve in an online DUI school, and your license is suspended for sixty days.”
Mal let his mouth drop. “How…?”
Robin held up a hand. “I could penalize you to the full extent, Mal. There is a zero
tolerance for DUI in this state. I’m giving you a break since this is your first offense.”
Mal swallowed and nodded his head. “Whatever you think I deserve, I’ll figure out
how to handle everything.”
“Good. You’ll serve your community service at the clinic cafeteria. They’re in need of a
decent chef and Doc Walter is complaining. Your first day will be next Monday afternoon.
Here is the information for the class and it’s mandatory. Without the proof of a certificate, I
will not activate your license.” Robin passed over the paperwork.
“Understood. What do I do about the Delights?”
“I spoke with Dakota.”
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“Dakota?”
Robin nodded.
Mal dropped his head in his hands, covering his face. “Am I fired?”
“No, but you may get slapped upside the head and be cleaning the kitchen every night
for a few months before his anger runs out.”
Dragging his hands over his face, Mal groaned. “Better than being out of a job I love.”
“Sign here for the ticket, fine and suspension of your license,” Robin said, pushing
across a piece of paper and pen.
“Good thing I ride a bicycle to work.”
“With a helmet, I hope.”
“Sometimes.”
Robin shook his head.
“Where do I pay the fine?”
“Next door at the clerk’s office. You have sixty days from the date of the ticket to pay
it.”
With a nod, Mal scribbled his name. “What’s next?”
“You return to the cell and wait for your ride home.”
“My ride home? I haven’t made a call to anyone.”
“I made it for you.”
“Who’s coming?”
“Don’t know. I left it up to Dakota.”
Mal groaned. “Did you wake him up last night?”
“Nope. Reece did that job, I got the second call in to him.”
“You could have left it until later this morning.”
“Small town and I keep an eye on everyone. I didn’t want Dakota to worry sick over
you missing.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Gotta see who’s picking you up.”
Mal winced at the possibilities. “Couldn’t you drive me home?”
“Nope. Got official police work to do,” Robin said with a wink.
“Did you figure out who hurt Samuel?”
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“Not yet, but I’m yanking on a few leads.”
“Do Samuel and Dakota know?”
“I keep them informed of my progress. I’m not giving up on the case, Mal.”
“I know. You wouldn’t give up on anything close to you.”
“The paperwork will be in the envelope with your personal items. You can take the
bottle and snacks with you,” Robin said, rising to show that their talk was over.
Mal shoved the bottle under his arm and held out his hand. “Thank you, Sheriff. I know
you could have made it worse for me.”
“Don’t do something stupid again. I can’t give you a second pass, Mal.”
“I understand.” Mal stopped as a memory hit his alcohol-soaked brain hard. His jaw
dropped.
“What?”
“Oh, shit. I left Dorian at the club.” Mal slapped a hand to his face.
“He’s fine. He’s home.”
“How?”
“Reece found him.”
“Damn. Dorian’s going to kill me.”
“Probably, but I doubt it. He has a good heart and loves you like a big brother.”
“Shit…”
“Go back to your cell. You can consider what you did in there,” Robin said and escorted
Mal back to the holding cell.
“Don’t like it in here.”
“No one does, but a cell at the county jail on the mainland is a helluva lot worse. You
could have been sent there for up to six months.” Robin glanced over his shoulder then
walked away.
Wrapping the blanket around him, Mal curled back on the bench in the corner, sipping
the water, and working his way through the bags of chips. His belly was floppy but
grumbled to get food.
Long after Mal had emptied the bags, Robin returned to let him out.
“Your ride is here. Come on,” Robin said.
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Licking his lower lip, Mal left the blanket and walked out of the cell. He gave the trash
to Robin, who tossed it in the nearest basket. He kept his gaze to the ground once again as he
followed the sheriff. With the day shift, someone else manned the front desk. After a check of
the sign on the desk, Mal saw that the sign had flipped to a different name—Vincent
O’Grady.
“Need you to sign here to recover your property and paperwork,” O’Grady said,
pulling his attention up.
Mal stopped by the desk and scribbled his name again.
“You understand you have sixty days to pay your ticket and three months to complete
your DUI course and community service. Your license is suspended for sixty days. An
Ignition Interlock device is in your car. One of my men added it after we returned it to your
condo. We couldn’t get someone from the Charm, so we towed it to your spot. We added the
tow to your ticket. You’ll be unable to start the car during this time,” O’Grady explained as
he ticked off the list. “Do you understand?”
“I do, sir.”
“Good. Initial here and here. Sign here.” O’Grady held the pen.
With a sigh, Mal signed again where indicated.
Holding out the manila envelope and paperwork, O’Grady lifted an eyebrow. “We
don’t want to see you back here.”
“Me neither,” Mal said.
“Good. Your ride is waiting over there,” O’Grady said and pointed.
Mal turned his head and saw Reece rising from a chair.
Oh, shit.
Saying nothing to Malcolm, Reece glanced at Robin and nodded in thanks for finding
and taking care of Mal for the night. He slid his sunglasses down to cover his eyes, pulled out
his keys, then placed a hand on Mal’s shoulder. He heard the crinkling and noticed Mal
gripping the envelope tighter, knuckles turning white from the hold. With his light touch, he
guided Mal out of the door, into the bright sunlight of the morning, then waited when Mal
winced against it. Hitting the button on the fob, he opened the locks of his waiting deep blue
Cherokee. Unable to wait any longer, he moved his hand to the back of Mal’s shirt and
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tugged him against his body. He embraced him hard and tight. Lowering his head, he
shoved his face against the fall of soft hair.
“Reece…” Mal said.
“Never ever do something so stupid again. Never ever,” Reece said, squeezing the man
tighter.
Mal buried his face against Reece’s shoulder. He wrapped one of his arms around
Reece’s waist.
Comfortable holding him in his arms after the anger and terror of last night, Reece
released Mal from his grip. Yanking open the passenger door, he motioned Mal to get in with
a tilt of his head. Without complaint, Mal climbed in the seat. He placed the large envelope
across his lap, both hands clutching it tight.
“Seatbelt,” Reece said as he closed the door and walked around the front. He climbed in
behind the driver’s wheel and locked them in. He tapped his fingers on the wheel.
Mal pulled up his legs and rested his feet on the cushion, wrapping his arms around
them. He rested his cheek on his raised knees, staring out of the window.
The cell rang from its spot in the console.
Reece glanced at Mal, lifted the phone, then accepted the call on speaker. “This is
Reece.”
“It’s Dakota. Where the hell is he?”
“Chill, Kota. I have him. He’s here in the Jeep with me. He’s a little ragged around the
edges, but he’s okay.”
“Mal? Malcolm?”
“I’m here,” Mal said. “I’m sorry.”
“Mal, what happened?”
Mal turned until he stared at Reece. Reece saw a couple of tears tracking down Mal’s
cheek.
“Mal?” Dakota called over the phone.
“Kota, let me talk to him first. It’s something between us,” Reece said.
“Between the two of you? What the…? What’s happening?”
“Please, Mal and I need to talk.”
“Bring him back to the Charm. I want him here, under my watch.”
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“No, I have other plans. When we clear the air between us, we’ll come by and see you.”
“No. No. Bring him to the—”
“Dakota, you’re not getting your way this time,” Reece said, his voice hardened.
“I’m gonna smack both of you with a cast-iron skillet, I swear. Keep me informed. Got
it?”
“I will.”
“Mal?”
“I’ll call you later,” Mal said. “Please tell Dorian I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave him
alone.”
“I’ll tell him, but he’ll want to talk to you.” Dakota hung up on them.
“Went better than I expected,” Reece said as he drove away.
“I disappointed him.”
“No. You scared the living shit out of me and in turn him.” He moved his hand to curl
around one of Mal’s raised knees. He squeezed it hard, his fingers digging into the cloth and
muscle. “Don’t ever run away again, especially if you were drinking. I had no clue where
you went, if you managed to drive without an accident, or worse.”
“How’s Dorian?”
“He was freaking out when he realized you were gone. He told me you were drinking,
a lot. I was never more pissed off, but Dorian needed me to calm and drive us home.” Reece
squeezed Mal’s knee again.
“I need to call him.”
“Yeah. He needs to see you and make sure you’re okay, and you’ll allow him to smack
the shit outta you for scaring him. Unlike us, he’s a kid. We’re here to help protect and guide
him.”
“I know. I fucked up.”
“No, you didn’t screw up this bad on your own. I did a lot of shit to help. There was
also the shit I found out about the guy dancing with you.”
“Eddie? What about him?”
“Yeah, it’s about Eddie. He trawls the clubs to look for victims. Smaller men he can
dance with and seduce to take home and batter the crap out of them, raping them, and
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tossing them out. The guys at the door seen him leave with multiple partners and sometimes
those partners return days later, appearing as if they’ve been worked over.”
“But none of them report it. They’re often afraid the police will not believe them.”
“Yeah.”
“The guards said they’re pulling together to stop him from leaving with anyone.
Slipping notes to the smaller guys to warn them. They don’t want to ban the bastard because
he’ll go someplace where no one knows what he’s doing.”
“Shit.”
“He was pissed when he peeled himself off the floor and realized he lost his chance
with you.”
“Did he attack you?”
“Yeah, we tussled until the cops came and I accused him of battery.”
“What?”
Reece snatched a tissue from the console and wiped the corner of his eye to remove
concealer, revealing a nasty bruise.
“Holy… Reece!” Mal uncurled and twisted to reach for Reece. He tilted his head and
wiped the rest of the concealer to reveal the entire black eye and cut.
“I don’t care. He’s in jail. Several other men came forward to reveal what happened to
them. Luckily, the right set of detectives was placed in charge of the case and took their
stories.” Reece took hold of Mal’s hand and lowered their grasp to his lap. He pulled into the
parking lot at Mal’s condo complex. “Okay. I want you to pack a bag for several days.”
“I’m not staying here.”
“Nope. You’re staying with me.”
“I…”
Reece turned off the engine. “Let’s go. There’s much we need to talk about.”
Mal climbed out of the Jeep and headed to his place. After ripping open the envelope,
he searched for his keys. They entered and Mal looked around.
“So… Now what?”
“Can we sit and talk? There’s some things I need to explain,” Reece said.
“Lemme get out of these funky clothes.”
“Okay. Go and pack a bag.”
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“Thanks,” Mal said as he tossed the bag on a chair. He headed toward the bedroom
after another glance behind him.
Watching him walk away, Reece let out a sigh and waited. After a while, there still
wasn’t a sign of Mal. Reece washed his hands and headed to the bedroom. He knocked on
the partially closed door and opened it.
“Mal, baby, are you okay? Mal, answer me, please,” Reece said as he stepped inside.
Curled on the bed, dressed only in a pair of boxers, Mal stayed in a fetal position.
“Malcolm…” Reece rushed to the bed and lowered himself. He curled his body around
Mal, embraced him, and pressed his lips against the closest shoulder. “Mal…”
“I was kept in a holding cell. Alone.”
“I know, Robin told us what happened. He did it to protect you. He couldn’t let you get
back in the car or leave you alone here. I had no idea where to find you until he called the
Charm.” Reece moved his hand across Mal’s arm and thigh.
Unwinding his body, Mal turned in Reece’s arms and pressed his face against Reece’s
chest. He encircled Reece’s waist with his arms and tangled their legs together.
“Shh. Shh, baby.” Reece dragged his fingers through Mal’s hair. “We’ll figure out what
the hell is going on.”
“I need to go to the Charm. I can’t leave Dakota hanging, wondering about me. He’s my
big brother.”
“I know.”
“Can we go there instead? Please.”
“Sure. Sure we can.” Reece continued to move his fingers through Mal’s hair. “I still
want you to pack some clothes and things. Neither Dakota nor I want you to spend the next
few days alone.”
“I lost my license for sixty days. I can’t drive. A good thing I ride my bicycle to work.”
“Ouch. We’ll figure out something. Do you have a car rack? I can attach it to the Jeep
and bring your bike to my place.”
“Yeah, in the front closet and my bike is hanging on the side. I want my car, though.
Not like I can carry groceries and stuff on a bike.” Mal groaned against Reece’s chest and he
chuckled.
“We’ll figure everything out. Get moving. Get dressed and packed.”
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“Can I take a shower?”
“Quick one.”
“Thanks. What did you want to talk about?”
“You want to listen to my sob story now?”
“Can it wait for a shower?”
“Yes, I’ll meet you back on the sofa.”
“Sounds good.” Mal wiggled free then rolled off the bed. He wandered to the
bathroom, but didn’t close the door.
Reece stayed stretched out on the bed, listening to the shower. The dragging sound of
the rings on the bar told him when Mal stepped inside. After getting to his feet, he went to
Mal’s closet, located a decent size suitcase, and left it open on the bed. He searched through
drawers, found and lobbed several pairs of socks, boxers, and tanks in the suitcase. He saw
several pairs of sweatpants and faded cotton sleep pants. He chose a pair of each for Mal to
decide and left them on the bed. Scooping a pile of T-shirts, he placed them on the bed. He
added several pairs of jeans, cargos and shorts to the selection.
“Are you going to dress me now?” Mal asked.
Reece turned his head, amazed that he hadn’t heard the shower stop. He took a
moment to stare at the damp, naked Mal clad only in a towel.
“What?” Mal asked and looked down at himself. “Did I miss something?”
“I’m checking you out, making sure you’re okay.”
“Nothing happened other than me being a fucking idiot,” Mal said as he yanked a pair
of boxers out of the drawer, jeans from the pile and a T-shirt from a different pile.
“I thought I’d help give you options from the dresser and you can add stuff from the
closet.”
“Oh. Umm.” Mal looked over the several piles. “Yeah, they can all go in. I’ll choose a
couple more dress pants and shirts. Can you add the sneakers and sandals?” He pointed to
them.
“Sure. Go get dressed. Are you gonna wear your brogues?”
“Not now, but toss them in the case.” Mal returned to the bathroom to dress.
Reece wished Mal would change in front of him, but didn’t feel he could ask. He gave
Mal some room until he spoke with him. Reece accepted Mal’s choices. He wanted to fix
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things. He was desperate to make everything better. He hated this coldness. Even when he
cuddled Mal, he felt the barrier.
He needed a plan to win this intriguing young man back into his life. First, he needed to
sit and explain everything to Mal about his rotten childhood. He needed to tell Mal how he’d
got this way.
After waiting for Mal to finish, Reece sat on the sofa. He tapped his fingers on his thigh.
“Okay. Whatcha wanna talk about?” Mal asked as he appeared, rolling a suitcase
behind him. He set the case to the side and dropped on the sofa. His hair was damp from his
shower. He’d changed into fresh jeans, a shirt and loafers.
Reece twisted in his spot, pulled one leg under the other so he could face Mal as they
talked. He stretched one arm along the sofa, plucking the fabric with his fingers.
“I’m listening,” Mal said, turning his head to look at Reece.
“I know. Don’t know where to start. I haven’t told anyone this.”
“What about Dakota and Sully?”
“They know the basics.” Reece dragged a hand over his face, scratching at the overnight
growth. “Though I know your childhood and time on the streets were rough, I didn’t have
the best of times with my family. My father was a severe alcoholic, my mother a pushover to
his anger and belligerence, and I was the oldest of three siblings. There’s a ten year gap
between me and my next two siblings. Mom said I was the mistake—they were waiting for
kids, but she got knocked up. I’m the cause of the ruin of the family.”
“What?”
“What she said after my father’s death. She should have aborted me like she did with
others before me. She didn’t figure out the pregnancy soon enough because she had a bad
case of the flu and food poisoning. She didn’t realize she also had morning sickness.”
Mal reached out and covered Reece’s fingers with his hand.
“Over the years, I learned to go outside to get away from them. I dug in the dirt, bought
seeds, and figured how to make them grow. Most of the money went on my father’s alcohol,
my mother’s various medications, and whatever my siblings desired. I received the basics to
make sure no one would become suspicious of us.” Reece slid his thumb along Mal’s hand. “I
never got their love or attention. I never received any affection. My environment was cold
and unforgiving. I lived in the basement so my parents couldn’t see me.”
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“You were neglected.”
“Yes. I poured all of my attention into the garden. I still do. The flowers and plants
grew from my love. I don’t know how to respond to a person beyond the sex. I’m good with
the sex, but a deeper relationship— Love. Displays of affection. I don’t know. I never
learned.”
Mal squeezed his fingers around Reece’s hand. “It’s okay. We can figure it out together.
If you give me the chance to help, I do want more with you. I felt like you ignored me at
times, but now I know you’re not sure about the little stuff. Still, you came around with those
gifts of flowers and cookies and those were wonderful and so thoughtful.”
Reece leaned forward and captured Mal’s lips in a tender kiss. “So, you’re willing to put
up with me and my issues?”
Mal chuckled. “Yes.” He kissed him back.
“Thank you for listening.”
“Thank you for trusting me with it. Let’s go and see the others at the Charm and go to
your place. We’ll figure out a new path for us.” Squeezing Reece’s hand, Mal rose to his feet.
* * * *
Walking through the back door of the Charm and following Mal, Reece kept a hand in
his pocket. “Dakota, Samuel, Chandler, Sully, we’re here,” he called out.
Ahead of him, Mal shivered, worried about the reaction.
The group of men raced out of the kitchen, Dakota in the lead.
“Son of a…” Dakota muttered, wrapping his hands around Mal’s upper arms and
tugging him into a tight, hard embrace. He cupped the back of Mal’s head while he slid his
other arm around his waist. “Come here, kid. Damn it, little bro, you nearly killed me with
worry.”
Mal embraced him back, arms locked tight around Dakota’s waist. He buried his face
against Dakota’s shoulder, since he couldn’t reach the man’s neck. He shuddered hard
against him.
“Shh. Shh. It’s okay. Just scared, pissed off and angry, but I’m not mad at you,” Dakota
reassured Mal as he offered him comfort.
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Reece stood back, both hands in his pockets, wishing he was the one holding Malcolm.
He knew Mal needed to hear Dakota’s reassurance. They loved each other as brothers since
Dakota had rescued him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mal murmured against Dakota’s shirt and chest.
“I know. I know. Shh, little brother. We’ll get you through this, I promise,” Dakota said.
After another squeeze by both, they separated from one another. Mal hung his head
until Dakota helped him lift his gaze.
Samuel stepped over, placed his hands on their shoulders. “Are you okay, Mal?”
“Yeah. The sheriff treated me fine. No cuffs or anything. I slept in the cell alone.”
“Okay. He called to tell us what was happening and where you were. Why? Why
would you do this?”
Mal glanced at Reece and back to Samuel. “Personal crap came to a head last night and
I drank too much.”
Samuel followed Mal’s glance, and Reece shook his head. He lifted an eyebrow, but
returned his attention to Mal. “Do you need help with what the sheriff gave you?”
“I can handle things. Other than the driving part, I can cover it. I take my bicycle to
work, but other stuff I don’t know.”
“If you need help—”
“I know,” Mal interrupted.
“Let’s move this into the movie room where we can sit and talk. Want coffee or tea?”
Dakota asked.
“Coffee. Did you make some scones?”
Dakota nodded. “Everyone go to the room and I’ll meet you there.”
Sully stepped forward and scooped Mal in a big bear hug with a smack on the back.
“Good to have you back, Smurf minus the Smurf part.” He returned him to his feet and
flicked his fingers against one of Mal’s uncolored locks.
“Yeah, wasn’t in the mood for a color. Thanks, Sully bear.” Mal waved at Chandler,
who waved back, not liking to touch anyone owing to his OCD issues.
“Okay, we heard Dakota’s orders— Everyone to the movie room,” Samuel said.
First to enter, Mal took a chair and curled tight in it after kicking his shoes off. He
dropped his head on a raised hand and stared at the wall.
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“Don’t start sulking now, kid,” Samuel said as he sat near Malcolm. He reached over
and patted Mal’s knee.
“I’m not—”
“You’ve been sulking and mopey since I picked you up,” Reece said, dropping into the
chair on Mal’s other side. He reached out and placed his hand on Mal’s arm. Mal was his to
comfort and care for, and he would do it to the best of his abilities.
“I believe I have every right to behave how I wish. None of you spent the night in a
holding cell.”
“You shouldn’t have either if you didn’t run away when you were drunk!”
“I was upset. I’m over it. Let me burn off the alcohol without everyone yelling at me,”
Mal snapped back.
“You scared the shit outta us when you raced away.” Reece rose to his feet, shoving his
hands through his hair.
“I know. I fucked up. It’s done.”
“What the hell?” Dakota asked appearing in the door with a full tray in his hands.
“Nothing, we’ll get through it,” Reece said.
Dakota lifted an eyebrow.
Mal buried his face in his hands.
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Chapter Sixteen
“Dakota! You need to let them talk it out. This is between them,” Samuel said, trying to
grab hold of Dakota. “I’m sorry, Reece, I tried to hold him back.”
“Don’t worry about it. When he gets something in his head, it sticks,” Reece said as he
dropped back in the chair. He placed his hand on Mal’s arm again, but no more.
“I’m beginning to notice this rather irritating quality in my man,” Samuel said,
whacking Dakota’s ass.
“Ow! Irritating?” Dakota lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not irritating.”
“Yes, you are. You think you’re too cute and don’t see it.”
“I can’t stop anything when someone is snapping at my little brother,” Dakota said,
setting down the tray. He handed a cup of coffee and a fresh scone to Mal. “Eat up, kid, I’m
sure you didn’t have much.”
“Robin was nice—gave me a bottle of water and chips to hold me over.” Mal curled his
fingers around the cup. He took a long sip. “He gave me a couple of pills to help with the
pain. I still have a headache I can’t get rid of from the damn alcohol.”
“Want some aspirin?” Samuel asked.
“Yeah. Would love some,” Mal said.
“Shit, I’ve been snapping at you all this time and now you’re letting me know about a
headache,” Reece said as he rested his head against Mal’s shoulder. “Shit…”
“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault,” Mal said.
“I remember you busting my ass for liking someone,” Sully said as he tugged Chandler
into his embrace. “We can return the favor.”
“Shad-up,” Reece said as he concentrated on Mal’s neck. “Did any of you know about
us?”
“Some of us guessed whenever Mal got pissed off or said something.” Samuel returned
with the medicine and a glass of water.
Mal took the pills and swallowed them.
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“So…” Reece slid back in his seat. “Since some knew, I guess you talked to one another
about us.”
Samuel glanced at the others and nodded.
“Whether they knew or not, you wouldn’t acknowledge anything was happening with
me,” Mal said.
Leaning closer, Reece held his hands between his knees. “I’m sorry I screwed up with
you. I’m not a demonstrative person. I’m an ass and a dunce. I never had a true relationship,
not until I met you. I want one with you, Mal.”
“I told you earlier how you knew enough to bring me flowers and cookies,” Mal said.
“Flowers?” Dakota asked.
“It was a beautiful bouquet from Jude’s place. Each bloom meant something he tried to
tell me. They were gorgeous until I had to toss them when they wilted,” Mal said.
“I can get another bunch of flowers whenever you want,” Reece said.
“Not when I want, but it was nice to be surprised.”
“I heard there were cookies,” Sully said.
“My special favorites from the bakery,” Mal said.
“The ones I needed to convince Katie to make,” Reece said.
Chandler smacked the back of his hand against Sully’s flat, hard abdomen.
“Ow.” Sully’s eyebrows lifted high in his shock. “What the hell?”
“Where are my flowers and cookies?” he asked. “I gave you chocolate cake.”
“Cake I made,” Mal added.
Sully laughed hard and tugged Chandler into an embrace. He planted a deep kiss on
Chandler’s mouth. Chandler melted against him. “Still want them?”
“No, flowers make me sneeze, but I would want special cookies,” Chandler said.
Laughing again, Sully kept Chandler in a tight embrace, reluctant to let him leave.
Mal glanced over his shoulder and Reece met his gaze. Mal moved his attention to the
embracing couple then back to Reece. Reece could see the blatant need for acceptance in
Mal’s beautiful eyes.
“I’m trying, I promise,” Reece said, pressing a kiss to Mal’s temple.
“Are the pills helping you?”
“Is the headache starting to fade?”
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“Yeah, it’s starting to go away.”
“Good. Are you done with your coffee?”
Mal took a last sip. “I am now.”
“Okay.”
“What’s up with all the checking in? I didn’t mean this up close and personal kind of
attention,” Mal said, glancing over his shoulder.
“I know.” Reece winked at him. “Guys, I’m taking Mal out of here. We need some time
to ourselves without eavesdroppers butting into our conversation when our voices rise.”
Reece glared at Dakota, who managed not to lose his innocent face.
Dakota even opened his hands in a ‘Who, me?’ type of gesture.
Of course, no one believed the man for a second.
“Going? Why? We have a room free upstairs Mal can use for whatever time he needs,”
Samuel offered.
“No, I have someplace else for our discussion in mind,” Reece said as he rose from the
chair. He took the mug from Mal’s hands and the napkin then set both on the tray. He held
his hands out to Mal to help him out of the chair and into his light embrace. Reece kept his
arm around Mal’s waist. “Dakota, it means don’t text and harass us with calls.”
“Hey…”
The couple chuckled as they left the rest of their friends.
* * * *
“Damn, I didn’t see Dorian at the Charm,” Mal said, banging a fist against the door of
the Jeep.
“You’ll find him. I’m sure Dakota filled him in on what’s happening. Give him a day or
so to calm down and give him a call,” Reece said as he drove past Mal’s condo, the street to
the beach, and toward the far end of a more exclusive neighborhood.
“Doesn’t Sully have a place around here?”
“Yeah, I’m two doors down from him. He designed and built my house with me,”
Reece said. “I hoped you would consider staying with me for a bit. There’s more than
enough room.”
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“Are you taking me to your place?”
Reece pulled into a driveway and parked. He nodded out of the front window.
Mal stared at the single-story clapboard and stucco home with an inviting front porch
and columns. Painted a quiet moss green color with khaki trim and a recessed pair of front
doors, it looked cozy.
Reaching up, Reece hit the button for the two-car garage and pulled into the opening.
He turned off and went around back. He unhooked the bicycle from the rack and set it off to
the side. He moved the rack and unlocked the trunk. “Let’s get your stuff and I’ll show you
around.”
After Mal had gathered his bags, Reece closed the trunk. He opened the garage door
and motioned for Mal to go ahead of him.
“Sully added this for me. You can drop off anything muddy, sandy, and covered in
stuff you don’t want to track into the rest of the house,” Reece said as he stepped out of his
shoes.
Mal did the same then moved forward into the open kitchen. He headed there first, as
Reece had known he would, drawn to the engineered stone counters. The island was a rich
blue color while the rest were a sandstone color. The cabinets were a whitewashed khaki
with stainless steel handles and appliances. Somehow, Mal found the dishwasher with its
hidden front and controls along the top.
“You don’t do much cooking in here,” Mal said. “It’s too clean.”
Reece chuckled as he leaned against the center island. “I have a tendency to eat too
much takeout if I’m left on my own. I didn’t get the cooking gene from my folks. My mom
gave me her love of the outdoors and green thumb.”
“Both of which you use in your chosen profession,” Mal said.
“Yeah.”
Mal looked at the plants growing on top of the cabinets and others strewn about the
house. At the far end of the kitchen, columns led to a dining room. There wasn’t a table or
anything there, only a bunch of folding tables and plants. Reece was working on hybrids.
It took a double look before Mal stared at him.
Reece held open his hands. “Plants fill this home. They’re what I know how to nurture
and grow, not another person. If I’m not there, I hang out in the family room, the study, or
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my bedroom. The other two bedrooms in the front have a bunch of junk in one and not much
in the other. This is my home. There isn’t much you were missing.”
Mal strolled to the living room with a modular sectional sofa, love seat and a lounger
combination in a slate color with blue and slate pillows. A plush ottoman was pushed to one
side. Matching tables and an entertainment center rounded out the furniture to complete the
quiet room. A huge flat screen television hung on the wall and there was a Blu-ray player
and gaming console underneath. There were several more potted plants to add some life to
the room, but nothing much. Mal glanced down at the natural bamboo flooring spread
throughout the entire home. Floor-to-ceiling windows and slider doors revealed the
gorgeous view open to the beach and water. There was even more plant life out there, tended
by a master landscaper.
“You don’t have much color other than blue and your plants,” Mal said.
“Yeah, I get confused whenever I try to figure out artwork, colors, and stuff. I’m not a
good decorator. Your condo is more lived in than this place.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Over ten years.”
“You’re kidding.”
Reece shook his head. “Now you see why I preferred your place.”
“It needs a little help,” Mal said. “You have three bedrooms, but…”
“There’s only one bed. For now. I can purchase another bed. The lounger at the end of
the sectional is a damn good place to sleep too.”
“Show me your bedroom, Reece,” Mal said.
Reece pointed to the far end of the house. “Go through the back arch on the left. It leads
to the master suite,” he said as he snagged the handles for Mal’s suitcase and extra bags.
Mal wandered through the family room, fingers brushing along the linen fabric, then
walked through the arch and doors. Moving down a small privacy hall, Mal entered the main
section of the bedroom. There was an elegant tray ceiling with the center painted a pale ice
blue. A platform California-king bed dominated the room. A simple striped-pattern duvet in
blue, slate and ice colors covered the bed with a few pillows. Dressers and nightstands
finished the room. Another turn and Mal found the entrance to the large bath and walk-in
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closet. Finishing his quiet investigation, he stepped over to where Reece waited near the
private hall.
“Is this it?”
“Except for my study and the other bedrooms, yeah.”
“Leave my bags here. We’ll continue our discussions in the family room,” Mal said.
“Does this mean you’re staying?”
“It means I’m considering my options,” Mal said and left the bedroom.
Shoving a hand through his hair, Reece dropped the bags and followed Mal. “Do you
want more coffee? I also have water and iced tea. I can put together a sandwich if you’re
hungry.”
“I’m fine. Come and sit down.”
Nervous, Reece walked to the section and sat a pair of cushions away from Mal, who
pulled his feet up and to the side to face him.
“Why do you want me here?”
“I know you’re younger than me with a lot of time ahead of you. You want different
things at your age. You’re way more vibrant and outgoing than me. I’m alive around my
plants—they’re what make me happy and grounded,” Reece said as he reached out to touch
a nearby plant.
“You’re the same as them. Solid and stable and you need a few things to make you
thrive.”
Reece grinned. “One of those things, I hope, is having you in my life. You’re bouncy
and outgoing and I’m your balance. I’ll keep you grounded and you’ll help me fly free.” He
looked around his home with a different perception. “There’s no life in my home, no color
other than plants, and I don’t feel at home here. I felt it the moment I entered yours. You
could tell someone lived there, but over here not so much. It’s waiting for a potential.”
“What do you want from me, Reece?”
“All I want is another chance.”
Curled on the comfortable sofa in the cold, empty room, Mal stared and listened as
Reece opened everything deep inside. He guessed their talk and his slight case of
disappearance had helped refocus things.
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“What do you say? Can you give me another chance? We can start working on our
relationship while turning this place into a home for us. I figured most of your furniture and
things will fit in here. I can move around all of the plants and excess crap.”
“You want me to move completely into your life?”
“Yes, I’m diving in with everything. I don’t want to lose you. I was so damn scared
about what happened at the club. When I saw you race away, knowing you were drinking, I
didn’t know where you went and if you made it.”
“I got tossed in a cell for a night for my stupid behavior.”
“I know. I’m grateful Robin found you. We can work through whatever Robin gave
you.”
“I got a hefty fine, my license suspension, community service at the hospital cafeteria,
and I need to complete an online DUI course.”
“Yikes.”
Mal shrugged. “It could have been worse. He could have sent me to jail and heftier
penalties. He wants me to learn a lesson, not punish me for being stupid.”
“Robin is a good man.”
“Yeah, hope he finds someone who can love him. He deserves it.”
“I’m sure he has his eye on a lucky man.” Sliding closer to Mal, Reece picked up one of
Mal’s hands and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Could you give me another chance to love
you?”
Bringing together their joined hands, Mal returned the kiss to the back of Reece’s hand.
He rubbed his cheek against Mal’s knuckles. “Yes.”
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Southern Charm: By the Numbers
Nicole Dennis
Excerpt
Chapter One
“What did I tell you before about filing all of these orders? They aren’t supposed to be
left in various places around the office. They need to be dropped in the corresponding folder
I hung on the wall by the door. It’s the metal thingie you can’t miss hanging from the wall.
Got it? They’re multiple, bright colors. Look. See? The paper goes in the folder. Once it goes
there, I’ll get it paid,” one man told another in a slow, teasing fashion.
Having entered the hotel to speak with the co-owners about his plans to begin the tear-
down, Sullivan ‘Sully’ Tarleton decided it was better to stay in the hallway, out of sight from
the combatants. Bracing a shoulder against the nearest wall, he stifled his chuckles with a fist.
He listened as Samuel Ashford harassed and teased his partner, Dakota Mitchell. The men
were new when it came to being lovers and partners, but were also co-owners of the run-
down, but graceful Southern Charm, a B&B set in a small town on the Florida Panhandle
coast below Pensacola.
“Yes, Mr. Straitlaced New Yorker who knows all and sees all. I’ll put the little piece of
paper in the folder,” Dakota said.
Sully would throw everything in the pot with a bet that Dakota had rolled his eyes with
the comment.
“It’ll be worse when Chandler arrives. You think I’m bad, I’m nothing compared to
him. He’s ten times more rigid on control. He’s almost hyper-vigilant when it comes to
paperwork and details.”
“So you keep warning. Not gonna work, my Yankee boy, I’m stuck in my ways.”
“Your old ways got us in this paperwork mess. So change them or sleep on the sofa.”
“You wouldn’t dare kick me out.”
“Try me.”
Sully’s cock responded when he heard the usual reaction to the men’s teasing of one
another. He heard the passionate kissing and before it could go further, he leaned over and
banged a fist against the opened door to announce his presence.
“Extra man on the floor,” he announced and stepped into view within the doorway.
Instead of the men popping apart, Dakota lifted his head in a lazy fashion from his
lover and raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”
“I’m here to begin the tear-down on the front porch.”
“Why are you starting there?”
“I checked it out with an engineer and it’s about to fall down if we leave it alone. One
bad storm could pass through and it’ll be gone.”
“Is it that bad?” Samuel pushed Dakota away to speak with Sully.
“Yeah, if it was anyone other than my friend, you would have been red-flagged and
closed until it was fixed. Since the engineer knows me, we got off with a warning, but he
wants to inspect the finished product and everything else from here on. I agreed with his
decision.”
“Red-flagged?”
“No one can live here, even though there’s another entrance which is safe, people could
still walk out by accident. As I said earlier, if we had a wicked storm off the gulf with a harsh
gust of wind in the wrong direction, your porch wouldn’t be there.”
“How did we not know this?”
“The support structure was going. The boards were warped and not connected by code
to the foundation with specialized deck screws. I want to avoid such a catastrophe and tear
the thing down. We’ll place signs to direct people. The back section is good and I’ll match it
by wrapping it around the front.”
“Are you going to use the same composite boards on top?” Dakota asked.
“Yes and pressure-treated pine for the structure.”
“Sounds solid and steady,” Dakota said.
“Glad you approve, though you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sully said, a
teasing grin on his lips.
“Hey!”
Samuel elbowed Dakota in his ribs to push him away from Sully. “How are you this
morning, Sully?”
“Picked up coffee in the kitchen so I’m good,” Sully said, lifting his silver travel mug
with a nod.
“Did you grab breakfast too?” the chef asked.
“Yes, along with the rest of the crew. I deposited some money in my account for it.”
Sully waved his hand to stop Dakota’s possible argument. “Shut it, no arguments.” He
headed farther inside. “I wanted to give both of you the plan of action. If you two want to
continue kissing each other, I can always return at a later time with my crew.”
“No, no, we need you to stay and work,” Samuel said.
“Yeah, stay here. You’re already here and ready to work,” Dakota said, his tone teasing.
“I guess I’ll stay.” Sully laughed with the others. “Can I give you the details?”
“Fire away,” Dakota said.
“Thank you, oh chef.” Sully graced him with a flippant bow. “My crew will tear down
the existing front structure, dig new footers, and pour the concrete. I need to pick up some
supplies and permits I ordered in Pensacola.” He set the cup on the desk and opened his
hardcase file. He pulled out a folder and handed it to Samuel. “Here’s the copy of our signed
contract and bid. You’ll get copies of the permits after I pick them up. I get permits and
inspections for every step they’re needed to verify all work is completed and accurate. I have
a board near the front where they’ll be displayed throughout the job for our protection and
the inspectors.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Samuel took the folder and flipped through the
contracts. “Do you need a down payment?”
“Not yet. Give me a week to move through things and we’ll take care of the first
payment. I have enough to cover the tear-down and early build.”
Before the conversation could continue, Samuel’s phone started a loud annoying ring.
Samuel glared at Dakota. “Did you change this?”
“What? Who? Me? I got gumbo cooking,” Dakota said with a grin then walked away
from the office.
“Jerk.” There was no heat to Samuel’s teasing. He picked up the phone and swiped his
finger across the screen. “This is Samuel. Oh, hey, Chandler. When is your flight?”
Sully went to gather his coffee and leave, but stopped when Samuel waved a hand at
him.
“What? You’re landing in two hours. Okay. Umm. You rented a car, right? It’s a short
drive over the bridge. Okay. Okay. Calm down, Chandler.” Samuel massaged his temples.
“No. No. I know you don’t like driving at all. No, there isn’t a car service. I can’t leave. I’m
swamped with getting things cleaned up around here. I told you.”
Sully listened and wiggled his fingers.
“Hold on a moment, Chan. Give me one minute.” Samuel lowered the phone.
“Where is he landing?”
“Pensacola International on…” Samuel lifted the phone. “What airline are you flying?”
Getting the answer, he told Sully the airline.
“Text me the info, his name, and what he looks like. I’ll pick him up down on the
baggage area.”
“Are you sure? He’s particular about things.”
“We’ll be fine. Let him know someone will be there with a sign with his name on to
pick him up. I need to go into Pensacola anyway, so I’ll leave now to get my stuff done and
swing by the airport.”
“Thank you, Sully,” Samuel said. “Dakota owes you dinner for a week.”
Sully chuckled. “Text me when you’re done. I’m heading out.”
Samuel returned to his phone call as Sully walked out. “Hey, Chan, I got you a ride.
Yeah, yeah, his name is Sully. He’ll be down in the baggage area holding a sign with your
name on. He’ll help you with your bags and get you to the Charm. Give me your info.”
Hearing those last few words, Sully headed to the kitchen and knocked his cup on the
wall. “Hey. I’m gonna get this Chandler fella at the airport along with my duties. Need a
refill.” He held out his cup when Dakota walked over.
“Why are you picking up Chandler? I thought he was driving.”
“Nope, he can’t drive and lands in two hours. I offered my help to Samuel. I’m already
going into Pensacola. He can be another stop on my to-do list. I don’t mind.”
“Thanks, pal.” Dakota finished with the cup, wrapped up a few fresh scones, and
handed everything to Sully. “Here’s a snack for the drive.”
“Ooh. Good, I like scones. I like the apricot and honey mix.”
“I’m experimenting with the basic mix. These are cherry vanilla ones.”
“See you later with your newest Yankee fella. We’re getting overrun with northerners
around here.”
“Samuel mentioned he’s a little screwy,” Dakota warned.
“I keep hearing that, but don’t believe the hype,” Sully called back as he disappeared
back outside.
He took another few minutes giving orders to his second in charge, Victor, to get the
crew started. By the end of the day, he wanted the front porch torn down, the post holes dug
down to bedrock under the sand, and concrete poured around new posts. “Make sure you
have the old ledger board yanked. Check all the flashing and possible water intrusion and
rot. If you don’t like the look of things, add the flashing, the fifteen pound paper, and the
membrane. I want this place water-tight. Fix anything else before adding the new ledger
board with the proper ledger locks. Got it?”
“Not a problem,” Victor said as he made notes on his tablet phone.
“Good. I’ll be back in a couple of hours if not before to help oversee the rest,” Sully said
as he headed to the big black truck.
“Hang on, Sully, wait before you leave—” Samuel called out as he ran around the
porch.
Sully tossed his things in the cab of his black truck and turned to face the smaller man
walking up to him. “What’s up, little Yankee guy?”
Samuel pulled in some deep breaths. “Damn, I’m out of shape. I wonder if I should join
Dakota in his morning runs. Ugh. Anyway, I’m not the small one. Chandler is shorter by a
couple of inches.”
“Ooh. He’s a nerd and a pipsqueak. He sounds like my style of man. Please tell me he’s
gay.”
“He is, but I don’t get it.”
“He’s nerdy, short, and gay, the perfect ideal of a delicious male for me. Damn, I’m in
heaven,” Sully said with a hand pressed to his chest.
“You may change your mind when you meet him.”
“What? Why?”
Samuel held out a plastic white sheet. “You’re going to need this.”
Sully looked at the package. “It’s a sheet.”
“Before you let him in your truck, spread this out over the seat. It’ll help him. He’s
hyper-organized and suffers with OCD. He has issues with a lot of color, noise, dirt, general
disarray, and other things out of his control.”
“What happened to the poor guy?”
“He grew up with a severe hoarder. Instead of following her habits, he went to the
extreme opposite. Be careful with him, please, he hates traveling. It bothers all his issues, but
he knew I needed his help down here.”
Sully thought about what Samuel had said about his friend as he took the sheet and
flipped it in his hands. “I’ll be careful with him. I promise.”
“Thank you. A lot of folks get upset with him. They end up yelling and he becomes
even more distressed and lost in his strict patterns. I don’t want to make this trip any worse
for him. He’s my best friend.”
“We’ll figure out one another. I better get going.”
“Okay. Thanks for picking him up.”
“Not a problem. Send the information to me. I’ll see you soon,” Sully said as he climbed
into the truck.
“I’ll send it when I get back to the office,” Samuel said.
With those last words from Samuel, Sully drove away and beeped the horn in answer.
About the Author
Ever the quiet one growing up, Nicole Dennis often slid away from reality and curled
up with a book to slip into the worlds of her favorite authors. Over the years, she’s
created a personal library full of novels filled with dragons, fairies, vampires,
shapeshifters of all kinds and romance. Always she returned to romance. Still, there
were these characters in her head, worlds wanting to be built on paper, and stories
wanting to be told and she began writing them down whether during or after class.
She continues to this day. Only recently has it begun to become fruitful, spreading out
to let others read and enter her worlds, meet her characters, and see what she sees. No
matter what she writes, her stories of romance with their twists of paranormal, fantasy
and erotica will always have their Happily Ever Afters.
She currently works in a quiet office in Central Florida, where she also makes her
home, and enjoys the down time to slip into her characters and worlds to escape
reality from time to time. At home, she becomes human slave to a semi-demonic tortie
calico.
Email:
Nicole loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and
author biography at
Also by Nicole Dennis
Southern Charm: Rules of the Chef
Southern Charm: By the Numbers
Totally Bound Publishing
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