Loose Id Titles by Z. A. Maxfield
Z.A. Maxfield

The Brothers Grime:

EDDIE

(GRIME DOESN’T PAY)

Z.A. Maxfield

www.loose-id.com

The Brothers Grime: Eddie (Grime Doesn’t Pay)
Copyright © November 2013 by Z.A. Maxfield
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eISBN 9781623005863
Editor: Kierstin Cherry
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs
Published in the United States of America

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Dedication

For the members of the RWA Orange County Chapter: roses,

revelry, and relentless encouragement. Bless you all!

Where My Books Go

All the words that I utter,

And all the words that I write,

Must spread out their wings untiring,

And never rest in their flight,

Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,

And sing to you in the night,

Beyond where the waters are moving,

Storm-darken’d or starry bright.

—William Butler Yeats

Chapter One

Eddie checked his hair out in the rearview and gave a final pat to

his tie before he got out of his car. His niece Lucy unbuckled herself, got
her things, and climbed out of the two-seater, all the while complaining
he was taking too long. Of course he was taking too long. They might see
Lucy’s teacher, Mr. B. Andrew Daley, and Eddie was determined to
make one hell of a good impression.

What Eddie really wanted was to knock the breath from Mr. B.

Andrew Daley’s lungs in the same way the officially awesome Mr. B.
Andrew Daley always knocked the breath from Eddie’s lungs, but what
could he do? Rome wasn’t built and all. Eddie was holding to his
course, making himself indispensable, helping with science projects and
chick hatching, and chaperoning farm field trips. He’d become Daley’s
official event photographer.

In all, Eddie had probably spent more time with Daley than he had

with any other guy, and he still called him Mr. Daley, for God’s sake.

Finding a guy on a dance floor who wanted to suck him off was a

piece of cake for Eddie “Cha-Cha” Vasquez, but asking a guy on an
actual date? He couldn’t remember ever doing that. Was he too old to
learn new tricks?

Asking Daley out was fraught with more tension than he’d imagined.
“Come on already, Uncle Cha-Cha. How come you keep looking in

the mirror?”

“I’m not.” He turned in time to see one of Lucy’s delicate eyebrows

arch up, exactly like his sister-in-law’s did when she was not impressed.

“You are too. I saw you just now.” She frowned at him. “And how

come you’re dressed like you’re taking Grandma to church?”

“I’m not,” he said. He’d worn his slickest black suit, burgundy shirt,

and black silk tie. These were the clothes he looked his best in. He
looked GQ good.

“Are too.” Like all the women in his family, Lucy could see right

through him.

“I just like to look nice.”
“But I’m going to be late for early bird library.” She tapped her foot

on the sidewalk in front of the car.

“Still like your lunch box?”
“Yeah,” she said. “No one’s got a lunch box like it, except my

spoon and fruit cup clank when I walk.” She held herself back to slip her
little hand into his as they walked along.

“Metal lunch boxes are classic.” He loved seeing her carry a tin

lunch box, even if it was leopard-print smiley cat. “So the way you see
it, is being unique a good thing or a bad thing?”

“What do you mean?”
“Are you the kind of girl who likes to have the same things other

people have, or are you the kind who likes to be different?” He was
quick to add, “There’s nothing wrong with either one.”

Her brows drew into a thoughtful furrow. “I like some things other

people have. My girlfriend Ariana has a plastic polka-dot lunch box that
keeps her food cold. Her mom puts in tuna salad.”

“Tell your mom to freeze your juice box if she’s going to put

perishable food in your lunch, and have her wrap everything in a cloth
napkin. That will keep it fresh and quiet. Best of both worlds. I almost
got you another lunch box the other day with Charlie’s Angels on it. The
television show, not the movie.”

“Mami says you were born at the wrong time.”
“She did, did she?”
“Yeah, she says you should have been born fifty years ago, ’cause

you like old things.”

“Hey, now. I like classic things.” Before Eddie could explain the

difference, one of the upper-grade teachers walked up.

“Hello, Mr. Vasquez. Lucy. How are you this morning?”
“Just fine, thank you, Mrs. Calvin.”
Mrs. Calvin nodded to Lucy. “Early library day?”
“Yes!” Lucy jumped and landed on her tiptoes. “I’m in reading

level 6.2!”

“The kids sure work hard for this,” said Eddie. The top three

students in each grade got to spend an extra hour in the library in the
morning. The privilege of extra time and extra books was turning Lucy
into a first-rate student.

“It’s been a pretty successful program.” She smiled at him and

leaned toward him to whisper, “It doesn’t hurt that there’s contests and
prizes.”

“I won last month, did I tell you?” Lucy asked. “I won Teacher’s

Pet pencils.”

“I think you mentioned that, honey. Once or twice.”
Or a thousand times.
“I read the whole first Harry Potter book and took a test on it. I got a

perfect score.”

“Good for you, Lucy. That’s upper-grade stuff.” Mrs. Calvin

checked her watch. “Better run along, or you’ll be late.”

Lucy picked up speed, and Eddie gave a helpless shrug before

chasing after her.

“Cool your jets, Lu-lu. We’ve got plenty of time.” She dashed past

the last of the classrooms and headed for the main library doors. By the
time he caught up, she was already opening one to go in without a
backward glance. “Hey, what do I get?”

She dimpled prettily. “Thank you for driving me, Uncle Cha-Cha.”
“Put it right there.” He pointed to a spot on his jaw as he leaned

down. She gave him a kiss before turning to run away. “Anything for you,
pepita. Have a good day.”

“Bye,” she said. She must have had her head in the books already,

or she would have groused at him. I’m not a pumpkin seed, Uncle Cha-
Cha.

Eddie didn’t suppose he blamed her. Library was her favorite thing,

and he was only her ride. He turned to leave, mildly disappointed
without a real reason for it.

Lucy was one hell of a kid. He’d like a couple of kids of his own

someday, but a lot of guys thought kids—like carrying metal lunch boxes
and wearing a jacket and tie to look nice in the hope of seeing that
special someone—were a little old-fashioned. “Hetero-normative
brainwashing” was what the last guy he’d dated called it.

As if the desire for a family and a child was beneath Eddie’s

dignity.

He knew plenty of guys who didn’t want kids, and that was fine for

them. But Eddie liked family. He came from a big one. Growing up, he’d
had six different houses to call home and a ton of family at school to

keep the bullies away. That was how he liked it.

“Mr. Vasquez.” A rich tenor voice stopped his train of thought—

derailed it, actually—and made his mouth go dry. He turned to find Mr.
B. Andrew Daley leaning against his classroom door with his hands in
his pockets.

How Eddie wanted to be those hands. Since they’d met in

September, Eddie’d had the feeling his heart was already inside one of
those pockets, clenched tight in Mr. B. Andrew Daley’s lovely, capable
hand.

Is there such a thing as love at first sight?
Or had the feeling come on as he’d watched Mr. Daley work?
Daley was always fair. Always patient.
He listened.
He liked kids for who they were, not what society expected them to

be.

Daley genuinely cared. He was like a magnet and Eddie wanted to

melt all over him like a hot metal blanket.

Eddie cleared his throat and managed a dumbstruck smile as he

ambled over to say hello. “Mr. Daley.”

Daley appeared freshly shaved, and his light brown hair was

trimmed close over the ears and collar but fuller—a mass of haphazard
curls—on the top. He’d dressed in a mouthwatering combination of low-
rise jeans, a blue button-down, and a slim V-neck sweater under a navy
sport coat. He had a goddamned scarf wrapped negligently around his
throat.

In southern California.
It had probably dipped to a chilly sixty-five that morning. Eddie

dared a look at Daley’s feet. Oh God. Combat boots. Kill me now. I’m
done.

Daley is the hottest man ever.
“How’s teachery things?” Eddie asked stupidly. He breathed in

deeply when he approached Daley, who smelled like glove leather and
laurel-leaf crowns and Madagascar vanilla.

“Going along fine. Did Lucy tell you she won the prize in Early

Library last week?”

“Yeah.” Eddie had the fleeting thought there was nothing he

wouldn’t do for a Teacher’s Pet pencil. “She’s so happy. This year has
been great for her.”

“She’s my most voracious kid when it comes to books. I’d say she

was the best reader in the whole first grade.”

“That’s good to know.” Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off Lucy’s

teacher.

“Do you like to read, Mr. Vasquez? I find a child’s love of reading

usually starts with family. I only ask because I’ve been rereading
Maurice for about the hundredth time and—”

“I don’t, actually.” Eddie felt his face heat. Whatever Morris was,

he’d never read it. He never would unless listening counted as reading.
“I’d like to, I mean. But reading is for people who have more time on
their hands than I do. I have to go to work now.”

Eddie turned to run, but Daley’s voice stopped him. “Wait. I don’t

—”

“It’s okay.” Eddie figured his face must match his burgundy shirt.

Why had he worn that? It made him look like a thug. “Um…have a good
day.”

Daley tilted his head like a cat with a question. “It was good to see

you again, Eddie.”

Eddie shivered when Mr. Daley spoke his name. He couldn’t help

it. He tried out a jaunty salute that probably looked like a tic, and headed
back toward the parking lot.

One of these days, he thought.
One of these days, I’m going to figure Mr. Daley out.

ANDREW WATCHED LUCY’S uncle walk away yet again. On the

one hand, Eddie “Cha-Cha” Vasquez seemed interested. On the other,
every time Andrew hit on him, he ran off like a possum with a can tied to
its tail.

One of these days Andrew was going to throw caution to the wind

and just ask the man out.

What’s the worst that can happen?
Andrew genuinely liked Eddie. He treated his niece, Lucy, like

gold. Like she was the most important thing in his life. But aside from
that, Eddie was pretty forbidding. Big and built and a little bit rough
around the edges.

He could break Andrew in half if he didn’t like Andrew’s attention.
Andrew was no fool. Gay pride parades and the eradication of

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and PROP 8 aside, this could still be a dangerous
world for a guy who hit on the wrong man. It was only that Eddie stared
at him sometimes when he thought no one was looking, and it made
Andrew feel licked all over. Kissed. Worshipped even, by dark brown
eyes that gave away nothing but a certain hot intensity that made
Andrew’s knees weak.

A curious noise caught Andrew’s attention, an odd humming that

seemed to be coming from behind him.

Andrew turned in time to see a woman wearing a filthy pink

tracksuit amble up to the door of the next classroom over. She was thin
to the point of emaciated, and her silvery hair was matted and oily.
She’d gripped the door handle and pulled it hard, but the room must have
been locked. She fumbled some keys out of her pocket and tried each one
unsuccessfully.

Andrew made his way toward her as he asked, “Can I help you?”
She turned her blank gaze on him. “I can’t seem to open my

classroom.”

Andrew recognized the woman as a teacher who used to substitute

back when he’d first started teaching at Taft. “Mrs. Henderson?”

“My key doesn’t work,” she muttered, frustrated.
Parents dropping off early bird kindergarteners had started staring.

Andrew felt an unreasonable irritation with them. Obviously there was
something really wrong with the woman. She didn’t need people
gawking at her.

Andrew stepped closer so he could talk to her without letting his

voice carry to the parents and other teachers whose curiosity was
aroused. That was when he noticed the smell coming off Mrs.
Henderson’s clothing.

The scent was faint, but it was rank.
The closer he got, the less bearable the odor was—like something

between unwashed human and rancid meat. Even as Andrew’s gut

twisted, he tried to keep his face neutral.

“Mrs. Henderson, are you all right?”
She frowned. “Why, of course. I—”
“Do you think maybe you could wait in my room with me while I

make a quick call?”

“I need to get ready.” Mrs. Henderson tried another key. “The

children will be arriving any minute.”

A murmur went through the crowd of gawkers. The older kids hid

laughter behind their hands. Andrew understood the impulse. Sometimes
uncomfortable things made him laugh too, but he couldn’t stand seeing
anyone laugh at someone in Mrs. Henderson’s condition.

“Maybe you could come inside while I call the office,” he offered.

Thank God she let him lead her into his room where he could close the
door on the outside world. He dialed the number for the school
secretary.

To Mrs. Henderson, he said, “Have a seat for a minute while I see

if the office can get things sorted.” He left her there and stepped back out
while he talked to the office staff about getting a police officer and
maybe paramedics because something obviously wasn’t right. At the
very least, the poor woman looked like she needed a decent meal.

When Andrew reentered his room, he discreetly started opening

windows. Had Mrs. Henderson been living on the street? What was that
smell?

“Someone’s on the way to unlock the door right now. In the

meantime, can I get you a bottle of water?”

She accepted water and some graham crackers, accepted that he

was telling the truth.

God, he hated lying to her.
Andrew sat down and waited with her, hoping the police would get

there before he had to open his classroom for the children. Andrew and
Mrs. Henderson gazed at one another in awkward silence while he tried
to figure out something to say besides, Mrs. Henderson, what the hell
happened to you?

Chapter Two

Eddie stopped for coffee and was halfway into work when his

phone rang. “Vasquez.”

“Eddie, it’s me. Dave.”
Dave Huntley was an old friend from school and an unofficial

source of information for work. In his capacity as a detective with the
local PD, Dave sometimes called when he thought there might be a job to
bid on. It wasn’t strictly on the up-and-up for him to tip them off to a
possible job, but the three Grime partners and Dave had been good
friends for years, and sometimes he threw them a bone.

“Lucy goes to Taft, right? How close are you to the school?” Dave

asked. “Apparently FPD got a call from the secretary there that there’s
something going on.”

Eddie’s reaction was immediate and visceral: panic.
“What is it? Lockdown? What?” Eddie’s tires squealed as he

swerved around a corner, prepared to drop the pedal to the metal and
head right back to dodge bullets if he had to in order to keep Lucy safe.

“Relax,” Dave soothed. “It’s nothing like that. You went there when

you were a kid, right?”

“Yeah.” Eddie was already heading back to Taft.
“You remember a Mrs. Henderson?”
“What about her?” Mrs. Henderson? She’d been his favorite

teacher. She was the one who saved him from a lifetime of—

“Someone found her on the grounds of the school, disoriented,

trying to get into a classroom. Dispatch will send some uniforms to try to
find out where she lives, do a welfare check to see if she’s alone.”

“Wait—”
“I thought since it was Lucy’s teacher Daley who called it in, you’d

want to know.”

Wait. Mr. Daley called it in? “What does that mean?”
“Isn’t he your guy?”
“What do you mean, my guy?”
“The teacher at Lucy’s school you have a thing for,” Dave said

patiently.

“I— How do you figure that? Your awesome powers of detection?”
“Are you going to tell me you don’t dress up special whenever it’s

your day to drive Lucy to school?”

Eddie didn’t know anyone else was aware of why he dressed up.

He thought he’d kept his interest in Lucy’s ultra-attractive young teacher
pretty close to the vest. “Whatever. Thanks for the heads-up about Mrs.
H. She was the best teacher I ever had. I hope nothing bad has happened
to her.”

“Well, you know what they say: shit happens, and absolute shit

happens absolutely.” Dave disconnected the call.

Eddie pulled into the school lot and parked again. As he got out of

his car and headed toward Daley’s classroom, he noticed the police
hadn’t arrived yet.

It was obvious where the problem was by the cluster of people

gawking. Wouldn’t you know it, Daley was right in the middle of things,
standing in the doorway to his classroom with an older woman clinging
to his arm.

Eddie took a good look at her. It was Mrs. Henderson, all right.

Even in the rough shape she was in, he’d have known her anywhere.
“Mrs. Henderson?”

“Yes?” When she gazed up at him, a smile bloomed onto her face.

“I know you. You’re Eddie Vasquez’s father.”

“No, ma’am. I’m Eddie.”
She frowned at that. “Eddie’s a wily one. I keep having to

confiscate his playing cards. He’d goof around with them all day if I let
him.”

Eddie met Daley’s eyes over Mrs. Henderson’s matted gray hair.

“You have a really good memory.”

“I won’t forget Eddie anytime soon. He confounds me every day.”
“Mrs. Henderson, can you tell me what year it is?”
“It’s 1986.” She peered up at Eddie. “Are you all right, Mr.

Vasquez?”

Just then, the police arrived. Everyone followed the progress of the

two officers—a man and a woman—as they headed toward Mr. Daley
and Mrs. Henderson, smiles firmly in place. One of them took Mrs.
Henderson aside while the other radioed in. That left Eddie alone,

briefly, with Daley.

They eyed each other for a minute before speaking.
“What made you come back?” Daley asked.
“My friend Dave heard the call go out. He knows Lucy goes to

school here.” Eddie shrugged. “It happens I know Mrs. Henderson, so I
came to see if there was anything I could do.”

“It looked like she remembers you fondly.”
Eddie smiled at that. “Maybe she does. I sure remember her.”
“Mr. Daley?” The female officer walked over. Eddie stood back

while Daley explained how he’d found Mrs. Henderson and what she’d
said.

While Andrew answered her questions, Eddie met her partner’s

gaze. He knew the man. Officer Leland.

Leland came over and spoke in a low voice so only Eddie could

hear. “I think we might be looking at a deceased caregiver here. Maybe a
husband?”

“A deceased someone,” Eddie agreed. The police officers couldn’t

have failed to notice the smell of decomposition that saturated Mrs.
Henderson’s clothes.

“I wonder how long she was on her own?”
Eddie shrugged. “Did someone call the EMTs?”
“We thought we’d assess her before we call for a bus, but it looks

like we’re going to have to get—”

“No, I don’t want to. Go away.” Mrs. Henderson yanked her arm

out of Leland’s partner’s grasp. “I have to see to my classroom. I have a
responsibility to the children. Go away.”

“Mrs. Henderson.” Leland started toward her.
“What are you even doing here?” She glanced around wildly. “Is

there a problem someone’s not telling me about?”

Eddie finally spoke. “Mrs. Henderson? Maybe you should come

with me.”

“It’s a workday, Mr. Vasquez. My students will be arriving any

minute.”

He hesitated. “Er…Eddie’s got a problem, and I was hoping you

could help.” That isn’t strictly a lie.

“Eddie?” Her worried frown made Eddie’s heart swell with

affection for her. He would never have believed she’d remember his
name, much less that she’d worry about him. “Is he in trouble again?
He’s got such a fine mind, but I can’t break through his—”

“Yes, Eddie’s in trouble. It’s something only you can help him with.

We need to go to the hospital.”

Her eyes widened. “But—”
“I understand it’s a workday, but Mr. Daley has assured me that

Principle Spivey will arrange for a substitute. It’s really important, or I
wouldn’t ask.”

Behind her, Daley mouthed, Principle Spivey?
“I don’t understand.” Eddie hadn’t thought ahead to what he’d do if

she refused him. If she grew agitated, they would have to call in EMTs—
maybe even restrain and sedate her. He couldn’t bear it if she got hurt.

“I think you’re the only teacher who ever understood Eddie. It will

mean the world to him if you would come with me now.”

“Of course,” she said, giving him a determined nod. “If Eddie needs

me, I’ll come. He’s a good boy. If we can only put all that energy to good
use, there’s no telling what he’ll be able to do.”

“You found the secret, Mrs. Henderson. Only you.” Eddie’s throat

tightened. “My car’s out front. If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you right
now.”

Eddie saw Daley eyeing him. He had to be wondering what this was

all about.

Eddie held his elbow out for Mrs. Henderson as if they were going

into a dinner party. Eddie let Leland know he was taking Mrs. H. to the
ER, and then escorted her past curious onlookers. Past noisy kids.

The adults stared. That was a fact of life. They probably meant

well. They’d probably help if they had any idea what to do. Mrs. H.
walked along with him, slightly dazed now but with her dignity intact.

“Some of these kids don’t look familiar. Do they go to school

here?”

To avoid answering her question, Eddie pointed out his vintage

MG. “My car’s over there.”

“Oh my, Mr. Vasquez, you drive a convertible.” Eddie could tell

she liked his car. Her hand seemed to flutter as it went to her unkempt

hair. “However do you manage to get all four children to school in this?”

Eddie couldn’t believe she remembered the size of his family. He

answered her question as his father would have. “Lourdes takes them
usually. She has the station wagon.”

“I see.”
Eddie helped her into his car and saw to it she buckled her seat belt.

He smiled and said what he always told Lucy, “Safety first.”

“Such a dashing car.” Mrs. Henderson smiled up at him. Her teeth

were still fairly nice. That was obviously a part of the hygiene equation
she remembered.

At stoplights, he surreptitiously studied her. She had been in her late

forties when he was in her third-grade class. That put her around…sixty-
five to seventy?

Despite the changes wrought by age and illness, he had recognized

her right away. No one else had eyes like hers. Green and lively.
Intelligent and kind. When he was her student, she’d gotten so deeply
inside his head she discovered his fatal flaw, the learning disability that
made his earlier teachers—and even his parents—write him off as not
very bright.

Lazy.
Thank God she caught it before his tendency to lash out at the world

in frustration was fully formed. He’d idolized her then. He’d loved her
for not giving up on him when so many people—when even he—had
believed he was a lost cause.

He’d find a way to help her now even if it meant he had to lie to

her.

The ride to the hospital was fairly quick. They made little

conversation, mostly because it was hard to hear around the noise of
traffic. She laughed like a girl when the car cornered, bounced, or
dipped.

When he parked in the lot by the emergency entrance, she allowed

him to help her from the car. “That was so fun. Oh, I hope you keep the
car. I can just see Eddie driving it someday.”

He smiled at her suggestion. “He’d love that.”
“That boy’s going to go places. Mark my word. He’s got style.”
Her certainty almost, almost made him sad. While he owned a small

business with two of his best friends, he wasn’t Donald Trump. No one
could accuse him of overachieving.

The business gave him what he needed—a comfortable living. A

good, debt-free life aside from his mortgage. A couple of nice vacations
a year. He hoped he wasn’t letting Mrs. Henderson down but had no way
to ask her. No way to form the words in such a way it wouldn’t confuse
her more.

He pointed to the sliding doors at the emergency entrance. “We

should go in here.” After they walked in, Eddie caught sight of a familiar
face. “You have a seat, Mrs. Henderson. I see someone I know.”

Dave leaned over the intake desk. He was talking to someone,

showing his badge. When he saw Eddie coming, he smiled in welcome.

Dave told the woman, “Okay, here they are. I’ll go talk to her, and

we’ll see what’s what.”

Eddie briefly outlined the lie he’d had to tell to get Mrs. Henderson

to come with him. “She likes my car. Told me someday little Eddie is
going to love driving it.”

“That is something, isn’t it? That she sees the family resemblance.”

Dave followed Eddie to the waiting area where Mrs. Henderson sat
primly by herself.

“Mrs. Henderson? This is Detective Dave Huntley. He’s a friend of

mine. He’d like to ask you some questions. Would that be okay?”

“About Eddie?”
“No, ma’am,” Dave said carefully. “I need to ask you how you got

to school this morning?”

“I— Uh…” She frowned. “I walked, of course.”
“From where?” Dave asked.
“From home.” She glanced at Eddie, and he tried out a reassuring

smile. “That’s why I like working at Taft Elementary. The school is
within easy walking distance.”

“And you live at home with your family?” asked Dave.
“It’s just me and my husband, Phil.”
“I see. Can you give me your address?”
“This isn’t about Eddie, is it?” She narrowed her eyes at them.

“Why are you asking me these questions?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Henderson,” said Eddie. “I told a fib to get you to

come with me because I was worried about you.”

She looked blankly back at him. “You lied to me?”
Shame filled him as he squatted on his haunches to talk to her face-

to-face. “I’m afraid I did, ma’am. I am Eddie Vasquez. I was taking my
niece to school. You don’t work there anymore, Mrs. Henderson.”

“I don’t understand. You’re Eddie’s father, you said—”
“I said I was my dad to get you to come with me. I think maybe you

must have hit your head or something. It’s the year 2013, and I’m Eddie.
I’m an adult. I look like my dad, but I’m thirty-five years old. You don’t
work at the school anymore. You retired years ago.”

“No, that can’t be true.” The confusion on her face made Eddie want

to put his arms around her, but he didn’t want to upset her further. “I had
coffee with Phil just this morning, and I turned off the pot, and we said
good-bye at the door. He…he…”

After that she gazed at Eddie without really seeming to see him for

the space of fifteen seconds or so, as if someone simply switched her off.

“Mrs. Henderson?”
She gave no answer.
“Mrs. Henderson?” Dave appeared to know no more than Eddie

did. Their gazes met, and a question went unspoken between them.

Suddenly Mrs. H. pitched forward, landing in Eddie’s arms where

she flailed until he could get her into a rescue position on the floor.

Eddie cursed sharply.
“Hey,” Dave called out to the woman at reception. “Can we get

some help here? She’s having a seizure.”

A man and a woman in multicolor scrubs burst through the intake

door and rushed forward to help.

“Is either one of you family?” the woman asked as she replaced him

at Mrs. Henderson’s side.

“No, ma’am.” Eddie backed away, sick at heart as he watched his

former teacher’s small body shake apart. “I brought her here because
when I found her I knew something wasn’t right.”

Dave took out his phone and motioned toward the door. “I’ll call in

and see if the uniforms got an address.”

“She’s dehydrated badly, for one thing. We’ll get her stabilized and

find out what we can.”

Dave gave her a grim nod. “I’ll be getting back to you to let you

know what we find.”

“I’m pretty sure I know what you’re going to find.” Eddie followed

Dave outside, into some much-needed fresh air. As a trauma-scene
cleaner, Eddie had adapted to endure the smells of his profession—of
sickrooms, crime scenes, and death. He had never gotten used to them.

“Me too. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything, all right?”
“Thanks.” Eddie glanced back the way they’d come. “You know,

she was my favorite teacher. She’s the one who figured out why I had so
much trouble in school.”

“It wasn’t because you’re such a clown?”
“I’ll have you know I wasn’t a clown. Not then. Until I had Mrs.

Henderson, I probably worked harder than anyone else. I just…I had
trouble. She’s the one who discovered what was wrong and helped me
fix it. She believed in me.”

“Special teacher.” Dave nodded. “The good ones really make a

difference. We’ll find out what happened and go from there, all right?”

“Sure. Call me.” Eddie gave Dave a one-armed guy hug and left to

get into his car. In his rearview mirror, he saw Dave standing outside the
ER, talking on his phone. Before he took off, he took the time to call his
partner Gabe to leave the message he might be a little late.

Chapter Three

Eddie arrived at the warehouse just as Skippy and Kim were getting

one of the Brothers Grime panel vans ready to roll.

“You’re headed where again?” He pulled his clipboard down from

the peg on the wall and studied the schedule for the day. He had his own
system, a series of shapes and colors and big block letters representing
people and different types of jobs. He didn’t need his reading pen to
double-check special instructions because he remembered them. A quick
X in a yellow box marked that he’d seen them out.

Easy peasy.
“We’re going to the motel in Fontana.” Kim checked him out.

“Aren’t you Señor Smooth today. Going to be on Dancing with the Stars
or what?”

Eddie felt his cheeks heat. “No.”
“You got a hot lunch date?” asked Skippy.
“I just felt like wearing a suit. Is that a crime these days?” Why

hadn’t he gone to his office first? He could have left his jacket over the
chair. Rolled up his sleeves.

Ditched his tie.
“Nobody dresses like that except for court and to get laid, Boss.”
“I’m ignoring you, Skip. Kim, did you double-check you have the

number for Empire Glass?”

Kim nodded. “Got it.”
Eddie gestured toward the front. “Is anyone else in?”
“Just Gabe. Jack’s working at home today.”
“I’ll bet.” Jack’s new boyfriend, Ryan, worked nights at the

hospital, so his shift ended in the early morning. If Jack was coming by
the office, it would be noon or later before he got in.

“Okay, off you go. See you later.” Eddie waved good-bye to Kim

and Skippy and then rolled the big warehouse door down before heading
for his office. As he headed in, his eyes had to adjust from the glare of
morning to the gloom of the unlit building.

Gabe was a fanatic about keeping the lights off unless they needed

them. He also tried to be king of the thermostat, which Eddie adjusted

slightly because the air was getting stale and hot. When the system ticked
on, Eddie heard Gabe’s chair squeak.

“That you, Eddie?”
“Yeah.” Eddie dropped his jacket and tie off on his desk before

walking to Gabe’s office. He rolled up his sleeves as he went. “You’re
like a frog in hot water, Gabe. You’re going to boil one of these days.
Frogs never learn, man.”

“Instead, why don’t you learn you don’t need to wear wool slacks

and dark colors this time of year?”

“I like to look nice.”
“Are you kidding me?” Gabe stood up. “Are you saying I don’t look

nice?”

“You look great.” Eddie took in Gabe’s Hawaiian shirt, baggy

shorts, and flip-flops. “Mouthwatering. I changed my mind about the no-
fucking-on-the-job rule. Come here, papi. I gotta get me some of that.”

When Eddie rushed him, Gabe pushed him away. “Yeah, yeah. You

had your chance.”

“When did I have my chance?” Eddie went to the coffeemaker and

poured himself a cup. “Back in high school? You were fully on the
down-low back then. You were still dating Sylvia Yi when I graduated.”

“Yeah. I guess I was. And you were the first out-and-proud dude

any of us ever met. We all thought you were so badass. On second
thought, you want my dick now? You can have it.”

“Nah. I caught my quota for the week. No need to be greedy.”
“Then why are you all dressed up?” Gabe’s brown eyes sparkled.

“Could be I know all about that.”

“If you think you know so much, spill.” Eddie couldn’t imagine how

Gabe would find out anything.

“I’ve got a message here from Cecelia. It reads, ‘Tell Eddie to

double-check Lucy took her lunch when he dropped her off at school.
And tell him he should give Professor Hot Stuff a big fat kiss and stop
wasting his time or—’”

“Shit.” Eddie grabbed for the paper, but Gabe held it behind him.

They struggled for it until Eddie hauled him into a bear hug and took it.
“Give me that.”

“I’ve seen you dress up extra nice to take Lucy to school all year.

You got some ’splaining to do, Lucy’s Uncle. Everyone knows you’re
hot for her teacher.”

“Can’t a man dress nice? Does he have to undergo the third degree

every time he puts on a tie?”

“You wore a tie?” Gabe gave him a wide berth as he returned to his

office. “That’s some incurable shit right there.”

“I like to wear nice things.” Eddie closed his office door between

them with a decisive snap that didn’t block out the sound of Gabe’s
laughter.

Eddie sat down at his desk and got out his headphones to “read” his

e-mails.

Mrs. Henderson could not have imagined the computer he used. She

couldn’t have foreseen the invention of the reading pens that used OCR
technology to help severely challenged dyslexics like him, but she’d
believed things would get better with time, and somehow, she’d made
Eddie a believer as well.

She’d been so, so right. Her faith in him had cracked a hole in the

low ceiling of unmet expectations that held him down. She’d let him see
the wide blue sky of hope for the first time, and he’d loved her for it.

Seeing her as confused as she’d been that day was particularly

poignant because she’d recognized him.

She’d remembered him even after all these years.
After a moment’s real sadness, Eddie started work. He normally

began each day with coffee and a new word. His quick perusal of the
dictionary site revealed the word of the day to be caterwaul. Eddie
thought he knew what the word meant, but just to be sure, he listened to
the definition. Caterwaul should be easy. That was the exact word for
how Skippy and Kim usually bitched each other out at the end of a
workday.

“Stop your caterwauling,” he practiced. “I can’t hear over your

caterwauling.”

His phone rang, and he glanced at it. Unfamiliar local number.
“Eddie Vasquez.”
“This is Mr. Daley, Lucy’s teacher. I got your number from the

office.”

Again, Eddie’s immediate reaction was concern for his niece. “Is

Lucy—”

“She’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
Eddie relaxed a little. “What can I do for you, Mr. Daley?”
“Call me Andrew, please. How’s Mrs. Henderson doing? That was

amazing how you talked her into going with you.”

Eddie hadn’t liked lying to her. “I felt like an awful fraud at the

time.”

“You did the right thing. The whole morning could have been one

big scene, and instead… You were awesome.”

“Thank you.”
“Is she going to be all right?” Daley asked.
“She had a seizure while we were waiting in the ER, and they

admitted her. I don’t know anything more yet.”

“A seizure? That’s not good, is it?”
“I don’t really know.” Eddie shifted papers on his desk, straining

for something useful to say. “It’s not, probably.”

A pause. Then, “Were you really in her class all those years ago?”
“Yes.” Eddie leaned back in his chair. “She was my third-grade

teacher when I went to Taft.”

“That’s wild. My little ducklings probably forget me two minutes

after school lets out for summer.”

“I’m sure they don’t.” I never stop thinking about you anyway. “I

was surprised Mrs. Henderson remembered me.”

“You must have stood out somehow?” It sounded like Andrew was

smiling. “Were you a bit of a troublemaker?”

“Maybe.” Eddie thought back to those confusing early years of

elementary school. How angry he’d been that he never got things right.
How hard every single lesson seemed once he got it home and had to do
it by himself. “She had a real nice touch. I was crazy about her.”

“That’s nice.” More silence. “I’m going to have to go in a minute

because recess is nearly over.”

Eddie’s heart screamed at him, Say something. Say something, or

you’re going to miss your chance! “Okay.” Estupido!

“Hey. I was thinking…my book club is reading The Picture of

Dorian Gray. Have you read it?”

“No.” Dead silence. Not again. “But wait, that was a movie, wasn’t

it?”

“You haven’t read it then? I thought maybe—”
“I saw the old black-and-white film—the one with Angela

Lansbury.”

A brief pause. “It’s not the same as the book.”
“I don’t suppose it is.” Eddie cursed his inability to say with any

certainty. “I saw the film when I was a kid. There was a part that was
really scary.”

“Do you like old movies? Did you know they have a classic film

series at the theater complex on La Palma?”

“Do they?” Eddie’s heart did a little skip.
“They show movie classics on Thursday nights. Would you be

interested in going with me?”

“Really?” Eddie’s heart leaped. Would I ever!
“Old movies are much more fun with a friend. Want to come with?”
“This Thursday?” Eddie glanced at his calendar.
“Too soon?” Andrew asked. “Yeah, I guess it’s—”
“No, I can do that. What time?”
“The films start at eight o’clock, but—”
“I’ll be finishing up work between six and seven that night. Can I

meet you somewhere?”

“How about Stomping Grounds on Chapman by the high school at

seven thirty then? Is that good for you?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smiled into the phone. “That’s great. See you then.”
“See you.”
Eddie disconnected the call, wondering what Lucy’s teacher had in

mind. God, maybe he was interested. Maybe he was finally making
things clear.

Maybe I’m going to get one of those teacher’s pet pencils yet.

Chapter Four

Eddie parked his roadster in front of Stomping Grounds at seven

fifteen. He got out and leaned against the door, waiting patiently.
Andrew didn’t seem to have arrived yet. That was all right. Eddie was
glad for the opportunity to wind down a little before Andrew showed up.

As far as Eddie’s days went, the day he’d had was actually pretty

tame. Sometimes people died with no one to miss them or mourn their
passing, and they went undiscovered for a while. Those jobs could be
nasty but not unbearable. At least they weren’t the result of violence.
Violent crimes were harder to decompress from.

Death was a depressing business any way you looked at it.

Sometimes whole lives could be boiled down to the contents of a
cheaply furnished apartment and a few photographs.

As much as Eddie looked forward to seeing Andrew, he had to snap

out of his funk beforehand, or he’d be pretty lousy company. Discreetly,
he stretched the tension from his neck muscles. He was just starting to
feel human when Andrew rolled up in an unremarkable blue compact
sedan. He got out quickly, looking flushed and happy.

“Hey, you.” Andrew stuffed his hands in his back pockets and eyed

Eddie’s car. “Do I get to ride in this?”

“Sure.” Eddie hoped he didn’t seem as nervous as he felt. “Hop in.”
Andrew got in and buckled himself into the passenger seat. “Nice.

No wonder Lucy likes it when you drop her off.”

“Lucy’s mom calls it my beauty queen car,” Eddie admitted. “Lucy

likes it when her hair whips around. If that bothers you, I can put the top
up.”

Andrew reached up and raked his hair back. “My hair is always a

mess. I doubt a little wind will make it worse.”

Eddie smiled at that. Andrew’s mop of unruly hair was one of the

things Eddie liked about him. He backed the roadster out of the space
and headed toward the street. “Where to? The theater?”

“Perfect.”
“What’s the film?”
Andrew hesitated. “It’s Bergman tonight.”

“Ah.” Eddie felt slightly sick at the thought. Bergman meant

subtitles, didn’t it? “There’s probably something you should know—”

“You might not like the movie. I buy all the series tickets no matter

what they’re showing, but—”

“You like classic films that much?”
“I do.”
At last I know something we have in common besides Lucy. “Me

too. I grew up watching old movies with my grandmother.”

“Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you this. Tonight is The Virgin

Spring. You might want to look that one up on your phone or something
to prepare yourself.”

“How come?” Eddie had to talk over the traffic. That was the one

downside to a convertible. An open car made getting-to-know-you
conversation difficult.

“It starts with the rape and murder of a young girl and goes downhill

from there. Sorry.”

Busman’s holiday then, thought Eddie. Maybe he should just say no?

“You already have the tickets?”

“Yes. I ordered them online.”
“It’s all right then. Let’s do it.” Eddie glanced over at Andrew. He

looked perfect sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. Of course, the
film would be unbearable especially if it was in Swedish with subtitles
he couldn’t read, but he’d been on worse dates. Probably.

Andrew’s smile made everything okay. “Tell me about Mrs.

Henderson.”

Eddie debated how much he ought to say. He had to wait until a

motorcycle roared past them anyway. “After I talked to you, I got a call
from my friend Dave. The police did a welfare check at her house, and
they discovered her husband had passed away.”

“Oh no. How sad. How?”
“I don’t exactly know. The medical examiner will find out. I guess

you saw though, Mrs. H. has memory problems. It seems like after he
died she lost the plot somehow. Woke up and went to work like usual,
except she doesn’t work anymore. She’s very confused.”

“But that smell…” Andrew’s brow knit. “How long ago did her

husband die?”

“A while.” Eddie hesitated. “Two weeks or so.”
“God. That’s awful.”
Eddie nodded. “But not unheard of.”
“What will happen to her now?”
“She’s going to need care. It looks like she doesn’t have much

family, but there’s a lawyer who is a family friend. I left my number for
him, in case I can do anything to help.” Eddie didn’t elaborate. He’d
realized a long time ago, talking about his work wasn’t a great first-date
icebreaker.

“That’s good anyway. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“I’ll do that.” Time to change the subject. “So…what does Mr.

Daley do when he’s not teaching? Books I know. Movies. What else?”

“There’s not much time for anything else.”
“I know what you mean. Some days aren’t as long as they need to

be.”

“You’ve never said much about your job.”
“I co-own an industrial cleaning service. Very boring stuff.”
“Is it?” Andrew asked.
“Not really, actually. It’s a lot of things, but boring isn’t one of

them.”

“What’s it called?”
Eddie wished he could look over and read Andrew’s face. Some of

the guys Eddie had dated thought cleaning was beneath them. “We call
ourselves the Brothers Grime. Our slogan is ‘Because life is not a fairy
tale.’”

“Oh my God. That’s hilarious. How did you end up doing something

like that?”

“My friend Jack worked as a firefighter, but he fell through a roof

on the job. Thank God he survived, but he was injured badly. When he
realized he’d never go back to doing what he loved best, he started
looking into other types of businesses. He tells people he fell into
cleaning.”

“He’s your partner?”
“One of them. My other partner is his cousin Gabe. He and Jack and

I went to school together. We’ve always been friends. Gabe was
working as a salesman for a pharmaceutical company, and I was—” At
this, Eddie broke off. Did he really want to share all this?

“You were what?”
“I was a bouncer in a gentleman’s club.”
Andrew snorted. He said, “Shut the fuck up!” in such a loud voice,

the driver of the car next to theirs glared at them.

“I was.” Eddie gave the woman an apologetic shrug. He was glad to

take off again when the light turned green. “But it broke my mother’s
heart because the job was—as she put it—so trashy. I was looking for a
change. Gabe wrote up a business plan, and we pooled our money to
outfit our first van. We worked out of Jack’s house back then, but the
business has grown.”

“Industrial cleaning.”
“Yes.”
“What do you clean?”
“Dirty things,” Eddie joked. “Seriously. It’s not that interesting.”
“And what does Mr. Eddie Vasquez do when he’s not cleaning?”
“Well, as you know, I take Lucy to school sometimes. I’m the

official family photographer at every concert and awards ceremony and
school carnival.”

“Lucy’s lucky to have such involved relatives.”
“I take family pretty seriously. I come from a big one. How about

you? Do you have family around here?”

“It’s just me and my dad.” Andrew turned on the radio and pushed

the preset buttons one after another. He got a lot of talk and commercials.
“Uh…does this thing play music?”

Eddie was surprised enough by Andrew’s evasion to remark on it.

“Sorry if I brought up a touchy subject.”

“It’s not touchy. Not really.” Andrew raked his fingers through his

hair—a hopeless task given the wind. “It’s complicated. My dad and I
talk regularly on the phone, but we hardly see each other.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie pulled into the movie theater parking lot and

began the hunt for a space.

Andrew shook his head. “It is what it is. My mother died when I

was young, and my father didn’t handle things very well. There, on the
left, there’s a spot next to the truck.”

“Got it.” Eddie pulled in and turned off the engine. “So…it’s going

to be Bergman.”

“Sorry.” Andrew’s gaze met Eddie’s. “There’s still time for you to

run for your life.”

“I don’t run.” Eddie got out of the car, and Andrew did the same. “I

hide sometimes, but I don’t run.”

“All right then. Bergman it is, but we do it together. On three.

One…two…”

Eddie laughed with Andrew until he saw the man’s face fall. “What

is it?”

“Oh no.” Andrew was looking at the line next to the box office. “No

no no.”

“What?”
“I see some people I know.”
“Is that a problem?” Eddie stiffened.
“Not for me.” Andrew turned to him. “Oh my God, it’s not only

Bergman, but you’re about to be subjected to two of my friends. I swear,
I didn’t know they’d be here.”

“What’s the problem if they are?” Eddie asked carefully.
“They’re likely to sort of…take over. Grill you if they think we’re

dating. Ask questions. Tell embarrassing stories. We can leave right now
if you don’t want to end the evening feeling like you’ve been probed by
aliens.”

“Are we dating?”
Andrew smiled up at him. “I hope so.”
“So you’re not ashamed of me or anything?”
“Hell no.” Andrew’s stunned expression told the whole story. “I’m

ashamed of them. Why on earth would you think I’d be ashamed of you?”

“It’s nothing. Lead on. I’m not afraid of your friends.”
“You say that now,” Andrew said mysteriously as they walked

toward the theater.

Eddie got a good look at Andrew’s friends when he and Andrew

joined them. Shortly after they’d been introduced, he realized what

Andrew meant by the warning.

Andrew air-kissed each of his friends while Eddie looked on,

feeling conspicuously overdressed for the occasion. Catch-up time gave
Eddie an opportunity to study them. As if they’d called each other
beforehand, Graham and Matt and Andrew all wore variations on the
theme of tight jeans and tight T-shirts with vests and multiple scarves
even though it was plenty warm out.

Andrew, Matt, and Graham talked about Bergman and cinema and

the state of the world. Eddie simply hulked there, listening and nodding
like a Tony Soprano bobblehead doll. He didn’t know them well enough
to jump into their conversation, and besides, the three men seemed to
have a sort of coded shorthand when they talked.

They finish each other’s sentences.
Eddie felt like a side dish—a big dollop of mashed potatoes on

Andrew’s plate—at least until Andrew’s friends started feeling up his
muscles and commenting on how built he was.

Then he felt like a side of beef. A complacent, friendly side of beef,

one who could lift Andrew’s entire body weight—it turned out—on his
flexed biceps.

“Oh my God, where did you find this lovely man?” Graham gave

Andrew a playful shove that nearly knocked him over. Eddie caught
Andrew’s shoulder to steady him. At his brief touch, Eddie heard
Andrew sigh and smiled.

Eddie deliberately misunderstood their question. “I just took my

niece to school one day, and there he was.”

Equipped with all kinds of junk food, Andrew and his friends got

seated and talked over each other while they waited for the curtain to
rise.

Eddie left them to it. He listened and stored up whatever

information he could gather about Andrew. Somehow he and Andrew
lost control of the popcorn, and Graham and Matthew ended up holding
it between them. Eddie didn’t mind. He and Andrew shared a box of red
licorice, and when Andrew used his as a cigar to do a Groucho Marx
impression—“‘I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my
pajamas, I’ll never know’”—Eddie felt himself fall for Andrew all over
again.

Eddie thought the movie was awful. The language barrier was a

problem for the obvious reasons, and the story upset him for reasons he
hadn’t even thought of going in. He spent his days dealing with the
aftermath of violent tragedy. He’d have preferred not to spend his night
out with it as well. He sat patiently and let his mind wander for lack of
anything more productive to do.

Near the end of the movie, Andrew’s phone started to vibrate, and

he pulled it from his pocket. He leaned toward Eddie and whispered,
“Back in a second, I have to take this.”

Eddie was too busy experiencing Andrew’s very handsome face up

close to reply. By the time he got past the urge to kiss Andrew’s frown
away, Andrew had slid from their row and was making his way up the
side aisle toward the exit.

“DAD?” ANDREW EXITED the theater.
“Boston?”
Andrew ignored his father’s use of his hated first name. He made

his way to a quiet area under a security light where a couple of
employees were sneaking a smoke. “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s in my backyard again, messing with my things.”
Christ. This was exactly why he dreaded a call from his dad. “Did

you call the police?”

“I can’t call the police. You know I can’t.”
“If people are trespassing on your property you have every right—”
“It’s that bitch next door again. Now she’s got her husband climbing

over the fence to take pictures.”

“Dad, what you need to do is—”
“I need you to get that lawyer friend of yours to send them another

letter. Tell them I’ll sue them for property damage if they get into my
things again.”

“Dad, I already told you. I’m not dating Gary anymore. I can’t just

call him for you now.”

“But I need a lawyer.” His father sighed. “They’ve got the city

involved now.”

“What?” Andrew tensed.

“The building inspector left a notice that I have to clean my yard or

they’ll come back with a warrant to inspect the house.”

“How long ago?”
“Never mind. That’s why I need your lawyer friend. Can’t you just

call him and–”

“No, Dad. I can’t just call someone I haven’t seen in six months and

ask him for a favor. Things didn’t end well between us, and it would be
a bad idea to presume on a friendship that isn’t there.”

“But I’ve got the city people breathing down my neck now. That

bitch next door is organizing a torches-and-pitchforks parade, and
they’re all writing letters. They’re calling my place an eyesore and a fire
hazard and I don’t know what all, but if they get their way, I’m going to
lose the house.”

“Dad—”
“It’s no goddamn business of theirs what I keep on my property, and

they know it. What they’re complaining about is a legacy, and it’s yours
just as much as it’s mine. Are you going to call that lawyer friend of
yours to help me out with that or not?”

Andrew turned away from the theater and leaned his shoulder the

wall. “I’ll see what I can do, Dad. I’m not promising anything.”

Silence stretched out between them. His dad finally said, “You

should stop by sometime.”

Andrew’s heart rebelled. Andrew wasn’t a neat freak by any

stretch, but his father’s place made his skin crawl. “Maybe sometime.
You could come over to my place anytime.”

“I can’t. You know that. Every time I leave, that bitch next door has

her spies come in. They think I don’t know, but I do.”

Andrew massaged his temples. He could probably pay Gary to

write a letter. That way it wouldn’t be too presumptuous. “I’ll see what I
can do.”

“Thanks, Boston. You know I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
“I know.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too, Dad.” Andrew disconnected the call. He closed his

eyes and rested his forehead against the cool concrete wall. He was so

busy thinking about his father and his father’s predicament he didn’t hear
Eddie come up behind him.

“Problems?”
“Ongoing.” Andrew inhaled a deep breath of smoky air and let his

father’s phone call go for the moment. “I need a rain check. I have to go
home and deal with something for my father. I’m sorry to spoil our
evening.”

“That movie was spoiling my evening all by itself.”
That surprised a laugh out of Andrew. “I know, right? Oh my God.

What a crap choice for a first date. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. I was afraid I’d have to make small talk about it.”

Eddie leaned on the wall opposite him. He was a magnificent leaner.

Andrew swallowed. “We’ll have to live with film talk when Matt

gets out here. He loves Bergman.”

“I should probably confess, I—”
Andrew stopped Eddie’s words by placing his fingers over Eddie’s

lips. “No confessions tonight.” Maybe he did it just to see how soft
Eddie’s lips would feel. How rough his five o’clock shadow felt by
comparison. Andrew had wanted to touch Eddie Vasquez—Lucy’s
gorgeous Uncle Cha-Cha—for so long, and he finally had the chance. He
couldn’t help smoothing his thumb over Eddie’s lower lip.

Eddie nipped his thumb playfully and stroked it with his tongue.

God. Andrew wished he had the time to feel Eddie’s tongue on his
quickening cock.

“We’ll do first date part deux next time, all right?” Andrew asked.
Eddie’s dark gaze was locked on Andrew’s, his voice hoarse when

he said, “Sure.”

Matt and Graham found them. Graham’s cough sounded like, “Get a

room.”

Eddie turned stiffly.
“Knock it off.” Matt elbowed Graham hard enough to make him

grunt.

“The movie’s over?” Andrew asked. “We missed the end?”
“You left right at the good part,” Matt accused.
“There was a good part?” Eddie pulled his keys from his pocket.

“There was—” Matt nearly choked. “Are you kidding?”
“You asked for that.” Andrew tried not to laugh while Matt

sputtered with outrage.

Graham eyed Matt. “I think we should go find a meal that goes with

the movie. Something black-and-white that makes me sick to my
stomach.”

Matt glared at him. “Et tu, Graham?”
“I’ve gone to a lot of movies with you, but that was pretty painful.”
“There’s a reason it’s a classic,” Matt pointed out.
“I know that,” Graham said lightly. “It’s just not a first-date film,

and Andrew is trying to impress a guy.”

Andrew waved that away. “Believe me, you two aren’t in my

impress-a-guy playbook. I was going to impress him later, but now I
have to—”

“I’m impressed anyway,” Eddie said, much to Andrew’s delight.

“I’ve been impressed for months.”

“Well said.” Matt raised his eyebrow. “I think maybe you two

should go eat without us.”

“I’ve—” Andrew glanced down at the phone he hadn’t yet put

away. “I have to make some phone calls, and I have work tomorrow. I
need to make it an early night.”

Eddie’s patient smile made Andrew’s heart slam into his ribs. “I

understand. Will you consider letting me take you out another night,
maybe this weekend?”

“Sure.” Andrew could use something to look forward to. “I’d like

that.”

“All right. I’ll take you back to your car, and we’ll plan our second

date on the way.” Eddie said a polite good night to Matt and Graham.

“Good night. I hope we’ll see you again,” said Graham. “We’ll let

you pick the movie next time.”

Matt waved good-bye. “I do not see what was wrong with—”
“Of course you don’t, honey.” Graham elbowed him again. “Say

good night, Matt.”

Matt frowned. “Good night, Matt.”
Andrew waved good-bye to his friends and followed Eddie to his

car. “They’re really nice once you get to know them.”

“I’m sure they are.” Eddie keyed the ignition, and they took off.

“They seem great. But would it be okay if I said you guys make me feel a
little…weird or something?”

“We made you feel weird?” Andrew asked.
Eddie met his gaze. “You like book references, right? Here’s one: I

felt like an Orc.”

“An Orc?”
“You and your friends remind me of Hobbits, and by comparison

—”

Andrew gasped. “You did not just compare me and my friends to

Hobbits.”

“I compared myself to an Orc,” Eddie pointed out.
Andrew felt the evening slip from his control. “Does that mean we

just had the worst first date ever?”

“I had some fun. I just wanted you to know—”
“We made you feel like an Orc.” Andrew sighed.
“Maybe just a little.”
That had to be bad, right?
If Eddie feels like an Orc, for God’s sake, that has to be bad.
Eddie was the furthest thing from an Orc. Andrew was silent for a

long time, digesting that.

Andrew realized he’d probably had a hand in making Eddie feel,

um, largish. Eddie had a big, hot body, and none of them had been shy
about letting him know it. Matt and Graham had felt up his muscles, and
Andrew had swung from his arm.

Andrew covered his face with his hands. “Dear God. I am so

sorry.”

“It’s all good,” Eddie offered gallantly. “Look on the bright side.

We have nowhere to go from here but up.”

They drove until Eddie pulled into the space next to Andrew’s car.

It was on the side of the lot in the shadows, but the coffeehouse was just
closing, so one or two couples still loitered around talking. He turned to
Andrew. “This is the first time I’ve ever been sorry I drive a
convertible.”

“Why?”
Eddie shifted closer. “I want to kiss you.”
“I’ll be very disappointed if you don’t.”
“You’re sure? You said—”
“I’ve never been surer of anything.” Andrew wrapped his hand

around the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him in. Their lips grazed at
first, but Eddie tilted his head and Andrew opened his lips and then…oh,
then, they shared more than a kiss. It was an entire expedition into
mingling breath and shared space and shuddering sighs.

Parted lips and tongues and a pulse that beat like thunder in

Andrew’s ears.

Andrew felt Eddie’s absurdly long, dark lashes brush his cheek

when they broke apart. A blush flooded Eddie’s cheeks. Andrew wasn’t
the only one affected by their kiss. He pressed his hot forehead to
Eddie’s.

Eddie shivered. “I’ve wanted to do that since I dropped Lucy off

that first day.”

“You have?” Why, oh why did my dad have to call tonight, of all

nights?

I’m breathless.
“And now I don’t want to stop there. You’d better go.”
“Yeah.” Andrew sighed.
Why are we stopping again?
Oh yeah.
Andrew needed to call Gary, who would not appreciate a late-night

phone call from a guy who cut him loose months ago.

Damn it.
Andrew let his fingers drift over the scratchy, rough surface of

Eddie’s jawline. “Hold that thought for next time, yeah?”

“Yes.” Eddie’s voice sounded hoarse with desire. “Can I call you?”
“Anytime.” Andrew meant that. “I’ll be waiting.”
Eddie could call him anytime.

Chapter Five

While he was driving home, Eddie listened to a text from Gabe. He

wanted to meet at Steamers, a fresh fish place and oyster bar with live
jazz most nights. It was still early enough by their standards, and Eddie
was hungry. Steamers served food late, so at a stoplight, he dictated a
text for Gabe.

Order me a platter of grilled oysters as an appetizer. I’ll be there

before they’re served.

Gabe texted back. No texting while driving.
Eddie dictated, You started it, you clown. I’m on my way.
Eddie put his phone away and headed for the downtown part of

Fullerton where Steamers was located.

Eddie had lived in Fullerton all his life, but even if he hadn’t, it was

a throwback town full of people who liked vintage clothes, old cars, and
free-form jazz, so he’d have felt right at home there.

He parked on the street and fed the meter. On the way in he had to

dodge a group of college kids heading for one of the hamburger joints.

Inside Steamers, the waitress was just setting his order on the table

of a big round booth where Jack, Ryan, Dave, and Gabe waited for him.

“Whoa. Is this an intervention?” he asked, pushing Gabe toward

Dave so he could sit. When the waitress glanced at him, he said, “Dirty
martini, please.”

“Got it.” The girl smiled before she walked away.
Dave eyed him. “Can’t order a beer like a normal guy.”
“I don’t want a beer.”
Jack took one of Eddie’s oysters. “So tell me. Why are you dressed

like the bastard love child of Sonny Corleone and a cruise-ship gigolo,
and how come you’re done so early if you were on a date?”

Eddie shot Gabe an irritated scowl. “School night. He has work

tomorrow.”

Jack winked at Ryan. “Lucy’s teacher. I told you so. Every time he

heads for Lucy’s school, he dresses like he’s going to prom.”

“Okay, enough,” Eddie told him.
“What’s this guy like?” asked Ryan. Jack’s new boyfriend never

went along with the crowd when they started in on each other. Jack,
Eddie, Gabe, and Dave’s years together made them ruthless teases, but
Ryan was just feeling his way into the group and he never took the shot.

“He’s great. He seems to like teaching. He’s super with the kids.”
Ryan smiled. “What’s his name?”
“Andrew,” Eddie told them. “B. Andrew Daley, but I don’t know

what the B stands for yet.”

The waitress brought his martini as he dug his tiny fork into a hot

oyster. It dripped with parsley and lemon-butter sauce, and when he put
it in his mouth, it burst with garlic and briny sweetness.

“You going out again?” Gabe asked.
Mouth full, Eddie nodded. When he could talk, he said, “Saturday, I

hope. Enough with the teasing though. Do I get in your faces when you
date?”

“All right. Okay,” said Gabe. “We’ll table that for now. Skippy’s

two-year anniversary with Grime is in a couple of weeks.” While Eddie
was the designated HR guy, Gabe was the one who remembered
birthdays and anniversaries and other personal milestones. That was part
of what made him a good salesman. “What is two years? Wood shavings
or something?”

“Skippy.” Dave sneered faintly. “Skippy’s trouble.”
Gabe defended his favorite employee. “He is not. He’s rock solid.

He’s never even taken a sick day.”

“Talk about teacher’s pet.” Dave had never liked Skippy, and he

wasn’t shy about sharing that fact.

Eddie thought their animosity was down to the universal truth that

lawmen and outlaws were cut from similar cloth and recognized one
another on some subliminal level, but Skippy had become Mr. Clean
when he’d met and married his girl, Kelly Ann.

Every so often even Skippy lamented being on the right side of the

law.

Dave only saw Skippy’s tattoos and the hard eyes that told of a

shadier past, so he stayed wary. Dave waited, poised like a cat at a
mouse hole, for Skippy to screw up.

“Skippy’s all right,” Eddie agreed. “But Dave’s right too. We’re

lucky he’s with us and not against us.”

“No one who looks like Skippy should ever be called Skippy,” said

Ryan. “He should be called Smaug or Kraken or something terrifying
from an opera.”

“El Muerte.” Gabe shot Dave a sly half smile, and Eddie saw some

something playful pass between them. “If it weren’t for the fact he’s
straight as a ruler, I’d tap that in a nanosecond.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Dave bit out. “Does no one but me see he’s a

punk?”

“A guy can enjoy the scenery even if he doesn’t get out of the car,”

said Gabe.

Eddie watched them with some surprise. Was something brewing

there? Before Ryan came along, Dave and Jack had a thing no one ever
talked about. They’d all simply pretended Jack needed a designated
driver a lot more than he actually did.

Dave didn’t want anyone knowing he liked men, and the three of

them, Eddie, Gabe, and Jack, had kept his secret since high school. But
that was another strike against Skippy as far as Dave was concerned.
He’d had Dave figured out within a three-second handshake, and Dave
had never been able to intimidate him.

Skippy’s silence on the matter of Dave’s sexuality was his own, and

Dave didn’t trust him to keep it.

“So. Okay, I’ve been meaning to ask.” Ryan forked an oyster from

its shell and cut it neatly into quarters while all four men stared at him.

“You’re mutilating that oyster, babe,” Jack said gently.
“What? Just cause I don’t want to choke to death? You three”—

Ryan pointed at Dave, Jack, and Gabe—“went to high school together,
and Eddie didn’t?”

“I did,” Eddie corrected him. “I was a year older.”
“Ah. That’s why I don’t remember you. I was a freshman when they

were seniors.”

“I’d have graduated by then.”
“Eddie’s the grand old man,” said Dave.
“I am the wise one,” said Eddie. “Doesn’t take much.”
Gabe picked at the label on his beer. “Whenever I think of high

school, I am so fucking glad to be past it.”

Jack raised his bottle, and all four of them lifted their drinks in a

toast. “To putting that behind us.”

“Don’t you find when you get together with people from the past,

you fall back into the same mindset?” Ryan asked. “Present company
excepted.”

“Yeah.” Gabe rolled his eyes. “We went to the ten-year class

reunion. What a joke.”

“I didn’t,” Dave said quietly.
“Yeah. You went surfing so you wouldn’t have to see anyone who

remembers you were a ninety-pound weakling back in the day.”

Dave’s eyes narrowed. “I was surfing the Banzai Pipeline.”
“I’ll bet you didn’t want to be seen with these three,” Ryan joked.

He must have realized he’d hit too close to home for the closeted Dave,
because he added. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with the geeks I hung out
with in high school.”

Nice save, thought Eddie. “He wants people to think he’s evolved

past assholes like us.”

“Too bad I haven’t,” Dave said, unmistakably relieved. “Well.

Maybe not. You guys have always had my back. I’m grateful. I don’t say
it often enough.”

Gabe cleared his throat. “What are we eating next? I’m starved.”
Eddie watched the interplay between his friends. Jack and Ryan

gave each other a quick nod for reassurance. Dave and Gabe sat with
ample space between them, but lately—especially since Ryan had come
along and started dating Jack—they gave the appearance they were
touching, even if they weren’t.

Ryan’s relationship with Jack had thrown Dave for a little loop,

resulting in a very uncharacteristic three-day alcohol bender. Gabe
seemed to sense Dave’s unhappiness and had moved in to offer support.
At least that’s all Eddie thought it was.

Eddie studied Dave.
Dave seemed lost sometimes. No one spoke of his affairs. No one

dared. Dave stayed in the closet, and no one knocked on the door. Eddie
didn’t understand him. Of all the people Eddie knew, all the people
Grime interacted with on business—and that included the FPD, the fire
department, and the local government—very few of them seemed to care

about anyone’s orientation anymore. There were gay cops in the very
department Dave called home, and yet…Dave still couldn’t relax and
simply be himself.

The waitress came over, and Eddie ordered fresh fish and steamed

potatoes. The rest of the table gave their orders. After that the
conversation sputtered to a halt, but they had music and the kind of
silence that grows comfortable over time between good friends.

It was a great night to be Eddie Vasquez. He had jazz. A martini. A

terrific piece of fish. The company of friends and the barest hint of a
possible new romance hanging in the air like an elusive scent, a whiff of
something soft and seductive.

While Eddie ate, he remembered threading his fingers through

Andrew’s soft, curly hair. Remembered the feel of his lips, his gust of a
sigh when they’d broken apart.

“Hello, Earth to Eddie.” Gabe snapped his fingers in front of

Eddie’s face.

Eddie realized they must have been talking to him for a while

because they were all staring. “Yeah?”

“I said, do you want to get something for Skippy? A Grime logo

mug or something?”

“He needs cash for the baby,” Eddie reminded them. “How about a

mug with a couple hundred in it?”

Gabe nodded. “All in favor?”
The three partners raised their hands.
“Aren’t you going to say all opposed?” Dave asked.
“You don’t get a vote,” Gabe told him.
“How come?” If Dave was kidding, he was doing a good job

keeping his face straight.

“What do you mean?” Gabe frowned at him. “You’re not one of the

Brothers Grime.”

“I should be a partner. I’m the one you always call when you need a

friendly face on the force,” said Dave.

“And we wouldn’t have it any other way.” Gabe lifted his beer

again. “All in favor of covering Dave’s tab tonight?”

Jack raised his drink to that.

“I’m in,” said Eddie. “Thanks again for helping with Mrs. H.”
Dave kept his gaze focused on his beer. “No problem.”
There it is again.
Eddie watched Dave closely. It was a little bit like seeing a glacier

move. You might hear a crack and a series of pops. Feel a rumble. The
invisible force from within might send a shower of glistening snow
downhill like the slip of cake icing on a hot day. It might send shock
waves to the land around it or out into the water like a cry for help, but
eventually, great sharp shards of ice would crack off and hurl into the
sea.

After dinner, on the way out to the car, Eddie stopped Dave. “Hey.

Are you okay?”

Dave turned with a quizzical look on his face. “Sure. Why?”
“Something feels off lately. Are you’re sure nothing’s bothering

you?”

“I’m sure.” Dave walked away.
As Eddie watched Dave head for his car alone, he was less sure

than Dave. He couldn’t pry. He didn’t want to make things worse by
muscling into Dave’s privacy.

Still. He’d learned to trust his instincts with people. He was the de

facto human resources guy at Grime for a reason. He planned to keep an
eye on Dave, see if there was something he could do.

Eddie got into his roadster and took a brief, very pleasant moment

to remember Andrew sitting in the passenger seat.

To remember their kiss.
Eddie pulled away from his spot at the curb happier than he’d been

in a long time.

Chapter Six

At lunch, Andrew checked his messages. As predicted, there was a

call from Gary, a barely civil message to let Andrew know he’d look
into the statutes with regard to Andrew’s father’s property. He’d send a
formal e-mail later so they could plan a consultation for the following
week. It would help if he had any letters Andrew’s father had received
from his neighbors or the city.

Andrew didn’t blame Gary for the terse reply. He’d let Gary down

with an “It’s not you, it’s me” back in October. Even then he’d been
eyeing Eddie Vasquez.

Eddie was Andrew’s type, not Gary. As soon as he realized he’d

been comparing the two and wishing Gary was more like Eddie—more
mysterious, more controlled, more slick and silent, and even a little more
dangerous—he’d decided things had to end between them.

What seemed funny in retrospect was that the real Eddie Vasquez,

despite being big and built and silent, was a man who held his niece’s
hand like she was made of spun glass when he walked her to school.

A man who hung on her every little-girl word.
A man who made sure his passengers buckled up and who helped

old ladies avoid embarrassing situations and felt like an Orc inside when
Andrew and his friends let loose their barrage of flirtatious nonsense.

Andrew liked Eddie even better now that he’d gotten to know him.
The second message was from Eddie, and it made Andrew smile.
“Hey, Andrew, I thought I’d give you a call. I’m thinking Saturday

night, maybe? What time do you want me to pick you up? If Saturday’s
okay, that is. I had a good time last night. I’m glad we finally went out.
I hate voice mail. I never say the right thing. Call me.”

Andrew glanced around. Some of his colleagues were eating lunch,

some reading. He texted back, I’m free after four on Saturday, so
whenever it’s convenient.

After a couple of minutes Eddie sent, Six okay? Where?
Andrew entered his address and then I could meet you at your

place?

Eddie returned with That sounds good. That will make it easier to

drug you and keep you in My Secret Dungeon 4-ever. But wait—when
you disappear, how will I explain why your car’s parked at my place?

Andrew stared at that so long Eddie texted again.
It’s too soon for psycho humor, isn’t it?
Andrew frowned. Maybe a little.
Sorry. I’ll save that for later then.
Andrew typed, So. I’ll see you at six at MY place?
I’ll be there.
Andrew didn’t add he wouldn’t mind if Eddie came over on Friday

after school. Andrew wouldn’t mind if Eddie stayed at his place, in his
bed, all weekend.

It was too early for that too, probably, but oh…Eddie Vasquez.
Soon.

* * * *

On Friday at lunchtime, just after he found a spot in the hospital

parking lot, Eddie got another text from Andrew. He liked texting with
people, except he had to use the dictation function of his phone. It had
taken some getting used to because it forced him to add punctuation on
the fly, verbally, so it wouldn’t look like he couldn’t type.

It wasn’t a deal breaker, but it wasn’t intuitive. He’d had to learn to

dictate texts, which made leaving regular voice mail messages difficult
because sometimes he forgot and added punctuation in those too. It was
harder to switch back and forth than it seemed it should be.

“I’ll be there,” he dictated, then left his car and made his way

through the sliding hospital doors. He’d brought a bouquet of colorful
flowers with him. He wondered if Mrs. Henderson would recognize him
this time.

“Mr. Vasquez.” She smiled up at him. She had the weary look of a

hospital patient, someone who’d been woken at intervals all night.

“Eddie.”
“You brought me here?”
“Yes.” He wished he’d had another choice. “I’m sorry.”
Then as if a light came on, she became Mrs. Henderson again.

“Don’t be sorry, Eddie. You did what you felt was right. I’ve always

admired people who do that.”

“Thank you.”
“What’s going to happen now?” she asked.
How much does she know? “What do you remember about what

happened?”

“My memory is fuzzy. Sometimes I get confused.” She blew out a

deep breath. “Phil’s gone?”

“Yes,” Eddie whispered. He stood helplessly by her bedside while

she cried. He wished he had more to offer her than a tissue from the box
on the bedside table. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She nodded, blinking as if she’d only just woken up again. “Phil’s

friend Bill came by yesterday. He says he’ll help me get out of here, but
he says I can’t go home.”

“How do you feel?” Eddie picked up the visitor chair and brought it

closer so he could sit by her side. “Is there anything you need me to bring
for you? Clothes or…a nice robe maybe?”

She stared at him—almost beyond him—before speaking again. “I

can’t get over how much time has passed. Eddie Vasquez. As I live and
breathe.”

He smiled at that.
“That’s my Eddie’s smile.” She folded her hands. “What do you do

these days?”

As if catching up was the most natural thing in the world, he told her

about his business.

“Really? Maybe I should hire you. I hate cleaning.”
“It’s not that kind of cleaning, I’m afraid.”
“What kind is it?”
“It’s industrial stuff. Not day-to-day.” He didn’t want her to picture

her house right then or dredge up memories of her husband.

“Ah.” She nodded. “I see.” Her eyelids fell. They closed halfway

and then rose again.

“Are you tired, Mrs. Henderson?”
“I am.”
Eddie started up from his chair. “You can fall asleep if you like. I’ll

come back soon, and we can talk more.”

“Could you sit here with me for a bit? I hate the hospital. When I

sleep, people always sneak into the room and startle me.”

“They probably will, to check on you. But if you want, I can stay

and make sure no one disturbs you for a while. Until the nurses come in
and manhandle you again.”

She shook her head. “You’d be bored to tears.”
“Actually.” Eddie took out his phone. “I just started a new

audiobook, and I can listen to it now while you doze if you want.”

“What are you reading?”
“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”
“Good book,” she sighed. “I’m not sure I read it though. I may have

just seen the movie.”

“Rest now.” Eddie watched her eyelids close before he powered

his phone back on in airplane mode. He pulled earphones from his jacket
pocket and put them on. Once he was connected, the text-to-speech
monotone drew him back into the story.

It was so second nature to him to shut his own eyes and focus on the

voice—to imagine the setting and the characters—he jumped when
someone laid a hand on his shoulder.

A stranger stood over him.
Some watchdog Eddie was. He’d allowed the man to sneak right in.

A glance told him Mrs. Henderson still slept peacefully, her mouth
hanging slightly open.

The man spoke. “Hello, I’m—”
Eddie put his finger to his lips and indicated they should talk

outside Mrs. H’s room. Once the door closed, the man held out his hand.

“I’m Bill Laurence, Dot’s lawyer.”
“I’m Eddie Vasquez.” Eddie’d known his teacher’s name was

Dorothy, but he’d never once imagined her as a “Dot.” Bill Laurence
was about her age with a ruddy face and white hair. He had complacent
features, as if life rarely surprised him or, when it did, the surprise was
mostly pleasant.

Bill pumped Eddie’s hand once in a manly show of equanimity.

“You’re a friend?”

“I was one of her students, actually. I happened to be there when

they found her trying to get into her old classroom at the school.”

“I can’t get over it. Dot was alone in the house with Phil all that

time after…” He avoided Eddie’s eyes. “Phil didn’t keep our usual golf
date. I should have known something was wrong.”

“These things happen sometimes.” Eddie knew that for a fact. Lots

of people died alone, and sometimes it took a lot longer than two weeks
for anyone to miss them.

“I called and no one answered, but with Dot…things could be a

little unpredictable. I just assumed he had to take her to the doctor or
something. I could kick myself for not following up. What she must have
endured…”

“I don’t know if she realized what had happened. If she did, she

didn’t seem to—” Eddie frowned. “She wasn’t processing when I saw
her.”

“Thank God you found her.”
“A teacher from Taft found her. I just helped out a little. She’s here

now, anyway. Have you gotten in touch with her family?”

Bill shook his head. “She has virtually no one. Distant cousins in the

Midwest somewhere.”

“What’s going to happen to her?”
“She can’t live alone. That’s a given. I’ve contacted her relatives,

but I’m also looking into group homes.”

“Whatever I can do to help, please let me know.” Eddie took out his

card. “As far as the house goes. I run a bio-recovery cleaning service—”

“Not you too.” Laurence’s body language changed abruptly from

friendly to suspicious.

“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been getting calls all morning from ambulance chasers.”
“I guess ambulance chasing’s not just for lawyers anymore.” Eddie

shrugged. “It’s no secret my business is trauma-scene cleanup, but that’s
not why I’m here.”

“Why are you here, if I may ask?”
“She—” Eddie glanced back at the door of the room where Mrs.

Henderson lay sleeping. He lowered his voice. “It’s not easy for me to
talk about this. I have a learning disability. Before Mrs. Henderson,

everyone—even my parents—thought I was slow, and the other kids
made my life pretty miserable. To put it mildly, she saved me. She never
let me write myself off, and I owe her everything. So if there’s anything I
can do for her, I will.”

“Dot was a great teacher. She touched a lot of lives. Phil saw to it

she’ll be taken care of, but she’s alone, and I—I suppose I should talk to
her again. Try to make her understand.”

Eddie stopped him from going inside the room. “She’s asleep right

now, and I promised her I’d make sure she wasn’t disturbed. She’s had a
hard time sleeping here.”

“I see.” Bill nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll come back later.”
Eddie traded his card for one of the lawyer’s. “Here’s where I can

be reached. My cell phone number’s on the back.”

“Thank you, Mr. Vasquez. I’ll be in touch.”
Eddie reentered the hospital room and sat beside Mrs. Henderson

without feeling better about her situation. She was old and alone. She’d
lost her husband. If money was tight, it might be impossible for her to go
home. Even with the best of intentions he couldn’t make things a whole
lot easier for her.

He thought about the slogan painted on the vans and trucks of the

Brothers Grime fleet, “Because life is not a fairy tale.”

Bitterness filled Eddie’s heart. That was the worst part of having a

somewhat optimistic nature—no matter how many times life reminded
him there were no happy endings, it always came as a surprise.

Chapter Seven

Eddie knew every street between his house in Fullerton and

Andrew’s apartment in Yorba Linda. He’d studied the map, and if that
wasn’t enough, he’d programmed Andrew’s address into the GPS on his
phone. He’d written Andrew’s apartment number on a Post-it to match to
the door number when he got there.

Then he’d had a last-minute work-related phone call, so he’d

arrived in front of Andrew’s place late, and Eddie hated to be late. He
needed time finding the right address numbers.

When Andrew answered the door he was still pulling his boot on.

“Hi! Let me just…get this…”

Eddie apologized for being late.
“No, it’s fine.” Andrew closed and locked the door behind him

before leaning over to ties his laces. “It’s perfect. I needed some
supplies for school, and there was a huge line at the big box store, so I
didn’t get back until just a few minutes ago. I had to grab a shower and
—”

“If you need more time to get ready, I can wait.”
“No. I’m ready. I’ve been ready. I just— I changed my mind about

shoes. I was going to wear sneakers, and then I thought, no, I should
wear boots. These jeans are longer, and—”

When Andrew stood, Eddie took a chance and kissed the awkward

away.

Andrew lifted his hand and curled his fingers through Eddie’s short

hair. Eddie leaned into his touch like a lost dog. He forgot where he was
—he forgot who he was—while Andrew’s neighbors passed by and the
streetlights went on overhead.

All he knew was the sweetness of Andrew’s lips. The taste of

toothpaste. Gentle hands and physical need. Andrew tried to fit himself
into Eddie’s body, and Eddie responded in kind.

Reluctant to give the neighbors too much of a show, Eddie broke the

kiss. It was a near thing though. When he saw Andrew’s dazed
expression and unfocused eyes, he nearly dived back in for a second
round.

“Wow.” Andrew breathed out a sigh of pure carnal pleasure.

Eddie cleared his throat. “Now I don’t have to be nervous about

kissing you again. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” Andrew whispered. “I don’t know

if I’ll be able to think about anything else.”

“Me neither.” Eddie thumbed Andrew’s full, freshly kissed lower

lip. “But it will be anticipation, not terror.”

As they took the path toward Eddie’s car, he let his hand drift over

Andrew’s arm. Andrew smiled up at him. “Because I’m so terrifying.”

“I was terrified anyway.” Eddie opened his passenger door and

watched as Andrew buckled himself in. “Maybe I just had high hopes?”

“Or high expectations. How’d I do?” Andrew asked as Eddie

climbed in on the driver’s side. Eddie was a big man, but he’d learned to
fold himself into his car with ease.

“You were perfect.” Eddie turned his gaze to Andrew while he

played with the shift knob. “You are perfect.”

Andrew snorted. “Hardly.”
“Perfect for me.” Eddie fired up the engine and drove west, which

just happened to be the direction of a breathtaking sunset. “First I have to
ask you where you want to eat. I don’t know what kind of food you like,
or—”

“Surprise me.” Andrew glanced over.
“All right,” Eddie said. “And do you like to dance? Or would you

rather go to the movies.”

“I really don’t dance. I’m actually a helluva klutz.”
“I’m pretty sure you could dance with me.”
“I’m pretty sure I could do anything with you, but after the day I had,

I could use a beer first.”

“All right. Relax first, then…whatever comes next. Okay?”
“Yeah.” Andrew melted into his seat. “Perfect.”
Eddie turned on the radio, such as it was. He normally kept it tuned

to a smooth jazz FM station, but he let Andrew play with the pretuned
buttons.

“News, classical, jazz, rap, and mariachis. A man of varied tastes?”
“There aren’t a lot of choices. I’m lucky the car has an FM radio.”
“My car has an MP3 player input jack. I guess I’m spoiled.”

“You like tapas?”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever had tapas. They’re the salty little Spanish

dishes, right? You snack so you drink more?”

“Exactly. I know the perfect place, but you have to be prepared for

hot spices and garlic and onion and fish. Some people don’t eat garlic on
dates.”

“I’m game if you are. If we both eat it, we’ll cancel each other out.”
“That’s what I figure but some guys—”
“Let’s get this out in the open, Eddie Vasquez. I’m not like any guy

you’ve ever dated.”

“Oh, you’re not, eh?” Eddie turned his head just in time to catch

Andrew’s wink.

“Nope.” Andrew leaned back to stare up at the sky. “And you, my

friend, are going to corroborate that by the end of the night, or I’ll retire
my dick in shame.”

“Holy cow. You’re just a big tease, aren’t you?” Eddie’s cock

tightened painfully behind his zipper. His palms grew damp as he
gripped the wheel extra tight.

“I never tease, Eddie. God, this is a great car. I feel like I’m

drowning in the wind—like it’s blowing all my problems away. I can
hardly breathe. What a rush.”

“Glad you like it.” Andrew looked just right in his passenger seat.

He looked windblown and flushed and beautiful.

“It fits you even though you’re such a big guy. When I imagined

what you’d drive, I automatically thought, truck. Like a dually or
something. Big truck. Big tires.”

“I don’t have to compensate, you know,” Eddie complained.
“Well, I don’t know.” Andrew shot a sideways look at him. “But I’d

like to find out.”

Eddie grinned. “All will be revealed.”
“I wait with bated breath.” Andrew flew his hand along the air

currents.

“I’ll even let you do some of the revealing, if you like. You’ve got

some nimble fingers, and I figure mine will be shaking.”

“You promise?” Andrew asked. “I’d like to try undressing you with

just my mouth. Maybe mark the places I’ve kissed. Go back and make
sure I’ve been ultrathorough.”

Ah, God. How am I going to get through dinner?
When Eddie looked over again, Andrew blew a kiss at him. He

knew what he was doing, all right.

“You’re a brat, you know that? This car isn’t big enough for you and

me and my boner. Knock it off.”

“You want me to knock one off? Right here?” Andrew asked

innocently. “Now? In front of God and everyone?”

“Down, boy. Save something for later.”
“I’ve got plenty for whatever you need, but I can see how you might

want me to pace myself.”

“Are you always like this?” Eddie was going to have to watch

himself with this one.

Andrew smiled at him. “Only when I’m determined to be happy.”
“Okay then. I’m glad.” Eddie swallowed and prepared himself for

more teasing. “Happy looks good on you. Carry on.”

Eddie drove the rest of the way to the restaurant, where he pulled

the roadster into a parking place on the street. Andaluz, a new place on
Fullerton’s locally hyped restaurant row, was close enough to the Grime
warehouse that he and the guys had walked there a couple times for
drinks and a snack when they were working late. Good food, nice music.
Pleasant atmosphere. Eddie liked the place a lot.

He’d always thought it would be nice to take a date there, but he’d

been busy lately. Or maybe he’d only been saving it for someone special
like Andrew, who was currently running his fingers up the inside of
Eddie’s leg, making it impossible for Eddie to get out of the car.

Eddie engaged the emergency brake and then adjusted himself. “You

know what? Bad boys get spanked.”

“Promises, promises.” Andrew slipped from the car with a fluid,

graceful move that didn’t surprise Eddie at all. Klutz my ass.

“Brat.” Eddie searched his pockets for change to feed the meter.
“I could help you find whatever you’re looking for in there, if you

want.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie blushed like he was on fire. Just what I need,

Andrew’s hands in my pockets. “I’m going to play dirty too. When you
least expect it, all this teasing is going to come right back at you, big-
time.”

“Again with the promises.”
Eddie finally found change for the meter. Then he put his hand in the

small of Andrew’s back and ushered him across the sidewalk. Andrew
glanced up at him, as if he felt the faint sparkle of electricity that raced
between them.

Eddie opened the door and let Andrew go inside ahead of him.

When Andrew turned back to him with a big smile, Eddie’s heart
slammed happily against his rib cage.

“This is nice.” Andrew took a look around.
“I like it.” Eddie let the hostess know he had a reservation.
The place was long and narrow. Dark wood paneling and leather-

upholstered benches lined the walls behind bistro tables and bentwood
chairs. A polished mahogany bar sat opposite a tiny raised platform at
the back that served as a stage. Colored sconces decorated the burgundy
walls with arcs of light, while pierced metal Moroccan star lanterns
shed flattering light from above.

“I’ve thought about bringing you here for a while.”
Andrew eyed him. “Why didn’t you?”
“Guess I never had the nerve.”
“You don’t just flirt for the sake of flirting, do you?”
“I don’t even know how to flirt.” Eddie felt his face heat again. “I’m

generally direct. That’s the Orc factor. I see what I want, and I take it.”

“Then why did I have to ask you out?”
“I guess I felt outclassed. Outshone. Out of my league with you.

You’re the first man who ever just…took my breath away. God, I’m too
old for this shit.”

“Shut up. I like you, Eddie.” Andrew took Eddie’s hand. “I like you

for reasons that you probably think I haven’t even considered yet.”

“Like what?”
“When you’re with Lucy…” Andrew bit his lip. “I see how fiercely

you love.”

A long, silent moment passed before a throat cleared, and the spell

between them broke. The hostess was waiting for them to follow, and
there they were, simply staring at each other.

“Sorry,” Eddie said.
“No worries.” She grinned before leading them to a table against

the wall near the stage where a musician played slow, sultry flamenco
guitar. Eddie slipped into the bench along the wall, and Andrew took the
chair. She left them with menus and the promise their waiter would
arrive shortly.

Andrew leaned forward and spoke softly. “This place is awesome.

How’d you find it?”

Eddie set his menu aside. “It’s close to work.”
“You work out of an office?”
“A warehouse, actually. We have office space up front, and out

back there’s a loading bay for the vans, equipment, and supplies.”

“So you have a large operation then.”
“The business has grown some since we started.”
“Did you hear anything back about Mrs. Henderson? I meant to ask

earlier, but—”

“Yes, actually. I visited her in the hospital yesterday, and I met her

lawyer. He’s a family friend, I guess.”

“Is she going to be okay?”
“Probably. She’ll have to go somewhere people can look out for

her.” Eddie fiddled with his silver. “I told the lawyer I’d help however I
can. That’s why I was late. He called to ask me if I’d meet him at Mrs.
Henderson’s house tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
“I guess you should know, my job isn’t exactly a nine-to-five thing.”
“Why not?” Andrew frowned at this. “Don’t you make your own

hours?”

Eddie wondered how much he should say. “We do restoration

work, after a fashion. So people call us whenever they need us. At all
hours.”

“You’re on call anytime of the day or night?”
“Theoretically, yes. My partners and I schedule on-call nights. I’m

technically off duty tonight, but I told Mrs. H’s lawyer to call me

whenever.”

Movement in his periphery was the only warning Eddie got before a

slim, dark-haired girl slid to his side on the bench and threw her arms
around him.

“Cha-Cha,” she said happily. She nearly squeezed the breath from

his lungs. “Where you been, baby? You don’t write. You don’t call.”

“I’ve been around.” Eddie pushed her gently away. “You still

working at the Library?”

“Yeah. You look good.” She shot Andrew a dimply smile. “Who’s

your friend?”

“This is Andrew Daley. Andrew, my friend Esme. Gypsy, if she

likes you.”

“You work at the library?” Andrew asked. “Which one?”
Silvery notes of laughter spilled from her like water trickling over a

rockfall. “My Library’s not in your district, sweetheart.”

After that, the silence dragged on for too long. Andrew said,

“So…Cha-Cha.”

“My nickname,” Eddie answered.
Andrew’s eyes held wary amusement. “I’ve heard Lucy call you

that. How did you get it?”

Gypsy laughed. “You mean to tell me Cha-Cha ain’t shown you his

moves yet?”

“His moves?” Andrew’s smile faltered.
“Esmerelda,” Eddie warned. Things were bound to go poorly with

her spilling all his secrets like they were something intimate and sexual
when they were anything but. “Don’t make me use your middle name.”

“Oh, baby, you don’t know what you’re missing.” Gypsy leaned

over the table, her bosom heaving from her open blouse and low-cut bra.
“Cha-Cha can go all night. He’s amazing.”

“All night?” Andrew asked coolly.
“He’s like a machine, baby.” With another sly wink, Gypsy dared

Eddie to shut her up. “Best I ever had.”

“Run along, woman.” Eddie shooed her from the booth. “Find

another man to torment. This gorgeous gentleman is my date for the
evening.”

“You still ain’t no fun at all, baby.” Gypsy pouted before sliding

gracefully from the booth. Her slim hips gave a saucy little twitch as she
pushed her hair from her eyes. “Stop by.”

“Sure, sometime. Say hi to everyone for me,” Eddie told her.
Andrew watched as she walked away, saying nothing.
“There is probably no way to salvage this moment, but for what it’s

worth—”

“That scene was straight out of reality television.” Andrew’s

laughter was perfectly musical. It fell on Eddie like big, fat drops of the
sweetest summer rain. “And if I was one of the Real Housewives of
Tehachapi or wherever, I’d stand up and do a Joan Collins. Throw a
drink in your face. Make an absolutely brilliant exit.”

“And then what?” Eddie tried to hide his smile. He’d learned early

on to expect the unexpected from Andrew. Maybe that was part his
charm.

Andrew narrowed his eyes dramatically. “And then I’d turn to look

back at you from all the way across the room and I’d yell, ‘You never
told me you were straight, you bastard. Our whole life has been a lie.
What about the pugs, Cha-Cha? What are we going to tell the pugs?’”
Andrew lifted his hands and fluttered them.

Jazz hands.
Andrew was supremely nonplussed. Amused and waiting for the

explanation he seemed sure would come.

At last. A guy who doesn’t jump to conclusions.
“The Library is the strip club where I worked before we got the

Brothers Grime started.” When Andrew lifted his eyebrows, Eddie
hastened to add, “I told you I was a bouncer.”

“I know.” Andrew smiled. “But imagining you stripping is kind of

hot. Were you a good bouncer?”

Eddie shrugged. “I read people pretty well. I could see trouble

coming, so I got the job done.”

“And Cha-Cha? What moves was she talking about?”
“That, you’ll have to wait for.” The waiter arrived at their table,

ready for their drink order. “I’ll have whatever’s on tap. What would
you like?”

“Same.” Andrew leaned forward. “Lucy calls you Uncle Cha-Cha,

so it can’t be dirty.”

Eddie laughed. “No, it’s a family nickname, and that’s all I’m going

to say for now. What do you want to eat?”

“Right now? Just food, please.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “I walked right into that, huh?”
“You cha-chaed into it.”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
Andrew seemed content to wait. He let it go in favor of fiddling

with everything on the table: the bud vase, the phony tea light, his forks
and spoons and knives. He rearranged the packets of sweetener and
tucked them back into their box—yellow, blue, white—over and over,
making stripes of color instead of leaving them sorted out.

Eddie watched it all, fascinated. Equally content, even though they

weren’t talking at the moment.

When the waiter returned with their beer, Eddie asked him what he

thought were the restaurant’s five best tapas dishes, and ordered one of
everything described. If Andrew thought it strange to order without
opening the menu, he said nothing. Eddie did that all the time by
necessity.

Over the course of an hour and a half the waiter came back with

several small plate offerings: crostini with Serrano ham and onion
marmalade, a plate of shrimp flash cooked in garlicky olive oil and
crushed red peppers. Spanish croquettes—crispy mashed potato balls
filled with spicy meat. Octopus, salt cod. Pickled sardines. Eddie didn’t
know if Andrew would like them, but he discovered Andrew was game
to try at least a bite of anything before he made up his mind.

Each dish was meticulously plated, full of flavor, and, to Eddie’s

way of thinking, unique enough to get any couple past the awkward small
talk of a first date.

Yet nothing felt awkward between them. Conversation flowed

naturally, happily, or it stalled out and comfortable silence remained in
its place.

Eddie decided he could eat one last shrimp, so he jabbed it with a

fork and swirled it in some kind of fiery red oil. When he went to lift it,
Andrew caught Eddie’s wrist and pulled the morsel to his own lips

instead.

Eddie let him, settling in to enjoy the Andrew show.
Andrew wrapped his lips around the shrimp and slithered it off the

fork with his tongue. He chewed it thoroughly. Eddie’s gaze went from
Andrew’s eyes to his lips and back again while all the breath left his
lungs. His heart kicked his rib cage like a mule.

“Are you usually so forward?”
Andrew’s eyes held a teasing challenge. “I don’t know what you’re

talking about.”

“What if I don’t like forward guys?” Eddie’s voice came out laced

with desire. “What if I’m some kind of throwback?”

“I wouldn’t throw you back.” Andrew kept hold of Eddie’s wrist

while he slid his tongue over his lips to catch stray drops of sauce.

“Holy cow,” Eddie breathed.
“What?” Andrew asked, all innocence. Eyes like a cartoon

woodland creature, he caught his lower lip between his teeth.

Eddie’s body heated like he’d swallowed a flare. “You, uh…

missed a spot.”

“Yeah?” Andrew swiped his hand over his lips. When he looked up

at Eddie for confirmation he’d gotten it, Eddie shook his head. “Where?”

“Come home with me”—Eddie’s voice cracked a little—“and I’ll

show you.”

Chapter Eight

Eddie pulled his car into the garage behind his place and glanced

over at Andrew. “C’mon, this is it.”

“This is your house?”
“It must be. I pay the mortgage.” Eddie led him along the flagstone

pathway to the door. He’d planted thyme in the cracks, and when they
walked on it, the fresh herbal scent wafted into the air.

“I like these old-school places.”
“All the houses around here are little bungalows.” Eddie entered

first and keyed his code into the security system. “Some are fixed up, and
some aren’t. Some are rentals for college kids. Some are flophouses.”

“The area’s going through some kind of renewal though, isn’t it?

Because of all the new businesses downtown?”

“I think so. It’s a great location. I can walk to the market and the

gym. There are nice local bars where you can get a beer and watch a
game.” Eddie hung his coat up on a hook by the door and turned. “Can I
get you something to drink?”

“No thanks. I’m still a little light-headed. I don’t normally drink

more than a couple beers.”

Eddie led Andrew to his living room, where he tried to see it

objectively, as Andrew must be seeing it.

Andrew turned to him. “My God, this place is straight out of a

magazine. It’s beautiful.”

“Nah.” Eddie flushed with pleasure. “Well. Yeah. My sister’s an

ace with color.”

“It’s not only beautiful; it’s squeaky clean. Everything is perfect.

You live like this?”

“I… Uh.” Was Andrew saying that like it was a good thing or a bad

thing? “I don’t like clutter.”

“Show me the rest. Show me where you leave your shoes in the

middle of the floor. Show me your junk drawer, or I’m going to be too
intimidated to stick around.”

“Now that you mention it, there is a standard use of a coaster clause

in the contract I’ll have to make you sign before you’re allowed a glass

of water. And you’ll be receiving your own microfiber cleaning cloth, so
make sure you keep that with you at all times.”

Andrew groaned. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
Out of words for the moment, Eddie stared at Andrew. He laughed

then, glanced around sheepishly. “So. This is…it. I’m not really that
neat.”

“Are you nervous, Eddie Vasquez?”
“A little,” Eddie admitted.
“Ah, God. You’re a peach, aren’t you? Come here.” Andrew

stepped into Eddie’s arms, and they kissed as natural as breathing, as
easy as pin tumblers caressing a key. Eddie had known it would be that
way from his first glimpse of Andrew. The heat between them had been
real and palpable even back then. Now Eddie wanted to kick himself for
letting so much time go by before acting on it.

He shuffled forward, and Andrew followed his steps until he was

backed against the door frame.

“Andrew.” Eddie let his fingers graze the skin of Andrew’s forearm,

up and down from his elbow to his wrist. “You’re so—”

“Shh.” Andrew didn’t let him finish. He cupped the back of Eddie’s

head and pulled him down, kissing him headily, pressing his tongue into
the seam of Eddie’s lips. They stayed like that, exchanging soft kisses
and little puffs of steamy air until Eddie was dizzy with longing.

Eddie buried his fingers in the unruly waves of Andrew’s

windblown hair. He could have stayed like that, wrapped in Andrew’s
scent, caught in the magic of body-to-body contact forever, yet at the
same time he couldn’t stop himself from drawing Andrew into the steps
of their very first dance.

Eddie hummed a few notes as he drew Andrew flush against his

body.

“Whoa.” Andrew’s body stiffened, unyielding. “Did I mention I’m

kind of a klutz?”

“Yeah.” Eddie pressed his hand into the small of Andrew’s back to

let him feel their line. Their oneness. He caught Andrew’s other hand
and pressed it into his chest. “But we’re just going to move together,
see?”

Eddie telegraphed the move with a nudge of his hand, and then he

took a step backward. For a second, Andrew hesitated. He seemed
determined to start off on the wrong foot and flushed deeply when he
glanced up at Eddie.

“I’m really no good at this.”
“Other foot. Feel me lean. Don’t think. Just move with me.” Eddie

took another step back, and this time Andrew went with him. “Then it’s
side, together.”

“Okay,” Andrew murmured uncertainly.
Eddie exaggerated the motion so his intentions were clear. “Now

forward, side, together. That’s right. Back. Then side, together. Forward.
Then side, together.”

Eddie’s box step was minuscule there in the tiny living room. He

moved only half a foot in any one direction. They swayed, bodies close,
and when he changed the pace slightly, when he rotated the box a little,
Andrew followed, still gazing up at him like he was the only person in
the world.

“See?” Eddie whispered as he altered course, turning the other way.

His cock was rock hard, and he was so near Andrew he could feel the
answering throb in Andrew’s. “Easy. Just listen to your body and stay
with me.”

“Ah. Cha-Cha. I get it.” Eddie tilted his head and kissed Andrew

through the next few steps. When they broke apart, Andrew murmured,
“You dance.”

“Technically, this is simply the box step.”
“You’re the best dance teacher ever.”
“That’s because I’m stupid for you,” Eddie murmured. “But you

know that by now, don’t you?”

“Little bit.” Andrew’s lips tickled Eddie’s cheek. “I want to fuck

you, Eddie.”

Wait.
Eddie searched Andrew’s expressive face. “You want to—”
“I want to fuck you.” Andrew gripped Eddie’s upper arms, flexing

his fingers, kneading the muscles he encountered. “You’re so strong. I
want to lay you out on the bed beneath me and—”

“You want to—”

“You’re beautiful. I’ve wanted you forever.” Andrew’s expression

was charming and a little bit feral. “Whatcha think?”

“Uh…” Eddie’s first thought featured Gulliver being explored by

Lilliputians. Not that Andrew was in any way Lilliputian, but by
comparison Eddie felt made out of rough-hewn rocks. He held his arms
out, letting Andrew’s light fingers flutter over his chest and torso, letting
Andrew slide his hands around behind to squeeze Eddie’s glutes.

“God, you’re perfect.” Andrew held Eddie’s hands while he looked

him over. “I’ve been watching you all year. You’d think a guy like you
wouldn’t be able to move with grace, but you’re fluid and sexy.”

“Hey.” Eddie brushed a kiss over Andrew’s lips. “I watch you all

the time too, and you’d think a guy with your kind of moves could
dance.”

Andrew laughed at that. “Maybe I’m proof God has a sense of

humor.”

“From where I’m standing, you’re proof Somebody Up There likes

me a whole lot.”

“Such a sweet man.” Andrew thumbed Eddie’s kiss-swollen lower

lip. The tingling heat of his caress went straight to Eddie’s dick.

“You want fuck me?” Eddie whispered. “Really?”
“Is that so surprising?” Andrew’s clear gaze sent a powerful shock

wave of desire through Eddie’s body. Was this a challenge? Or a test? “I
want to push you over and fuck you so deep you taste my spunk in your
mouth.”

“Wow. Okay.” Eddie’s jaw dropped over a deep, needy sigh.

“That’s a little different.” Eddie shifted his focus to the ceiling. “Guys
usually look at me and see an alpha.”

“Really?” Andrew’s surprise wasn’t too insulting.
“Are you joking?” Eddie asked.
“So fucking you is off the table?”
“Oh no. It’s on the table.” The idea of Andrew fucking him made

Eddie’s breath leave his lungs in a long, shuddering squeeze of pure lust.
“It’s so on the table I’ll clear off the salt and pepper shakers and the hot
sauce, and bend right the hell over the table, ’cause—”

“Oh God.” Andrew’s hands covered his laughter before Eddie had

time to stop him. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m trying to be serious here.

I’m asking because I need to find out where your boundaries are.”

“With you?” Eddie picked Andrew up and pushed him into the wall,

forcing him to wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and hang on.
“There’s very little I wouldn’t do to please you, Andrew. Very little you
could do that wouldn’t please me.”

Andrew’s expression softened as he cupped Eddie’s face between

his hands. “Put me down, Eddie.”

Andrew’s simply worded command slipped down Eddie’s spine,

dragging a cool shiver of something vaguely thrilling with it. Eddie let
Andrew’s body slide down until his feet hit the floor. Everywhere they
rubbed together lit Eddie’s skin on fire, making him feel hot and raw all
over.

“C’mere.” Andrew led Eddie to his living room, where he pushed

him into the recliner.

“Did I do something wrong?” Eddie asked.
Andrew stood over him, his hands resting casually on his hips.

“Don’t pick me up without my permission.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie hoped he hadn’t ruined things. Uncertainty made

his heart contract with dismay. “I didn’t think.”

Andrew stroked Eddie’s hair back off his face, his touch tender and

slow, as if he had all the time in the world. “No worries. We’re learning
each other, yeah? I want to make you feel good, Eddie Vasquez. I want to
do all the things you like best.”

Eddie understood. “What do you like?”
“I like kissing you.” Andrew straddled Eddie’s lap. The leather

cushions beneath them sank with a soft hiss. Andrew’s mouth covered
Eddie’s again briefly, just to tease him. To beguile him.

Andrew held Eddie immobile until Eddie pushed against his grip.

Eddie’s size was no advantage. The difference in their heights
disappeared when they were seated like that. Andrew broke their kiss
and grinned as if he knew what was going through Eddie’s mind. His
lifted eyebrow dared Eddie to escape. Their minor battle of wills ended
when it became clear that to break Andrew’s hold, Eddie might have to
hurt him.

Understanding passed between them. Andrew loved taking charge,

and Eddie was willing to give him anything he wanted. Even more

astounding was Eddie’s answering need. He welcomed submission. That
news came not so much as a surprise but an epiphany.

After that it took Eddie exactly no time at all to surrender the

control Andrew asked for. Andrew pushed Eddie back against the
cushions, grinding his cock into Eddie’s belly while he plundered
Eddie’s mouth. Andrew overwhelmed Eddie with soft kisses and
arousing touches from what seemed like…fourteen hands. Before Eddie
knew it, he was half-naked with Andrew herding him down the hall to
his bedroom.

Andrew didn’t bark orders or exert any painful pressure. He

laughed and nipped and tickled and pushed ever so gently. He directed
until it seemed like it was almost Eddie’s entirely original idea to lie on
his back while a fully dressed Andrew pulled his trousers and shorts
down off his legs.

When Eddie was finally naked, Andrew crawled over him, his

clothing crackling across Eddie’s skin like sparks on kindling.

Andrew seduced Eddie. Andrew overwhelmed him. Eddie opened

his heart and his body, and in return Andrew filled him with a heady rush
of sensation he’d never experienced before.

Andrew treated Eddie like a mighty fine specimen of manhood at

times, and at others… Oh, at others, Eddie felt like a god, especially
when Andrew leaned over to worship him with his tongue.

“Hey…” Eddie made a slight protest when Andrew crouched

between his legs, shouldering his thighs, nudging his face—his lips and
tongue and nose—into Eddie’s most private places. “Oh… Hey, I—”

“Shh.” Andrew commanded, and Eddie obeyed.
The intimacy of the act, and the sheer goddamned inequality of

Andrew’s fully clothed state compared to Eddie’s stripped bare, pulled
apart, and fully exposed position ping-ponged Eddie between the
exquisite polar opposites of lusty abandon and shame.

And yet…
How hot. How absurdly crazy, sick hot was it for Eddie to lie there

like a beast, like Andrew’s beast, ready to serve him. Ready to surrender
himself, to take Andrew’s cock—to take anything Andrew wanted to
give him.

Eddie nearly choked on his indrawn breath.

Andrew studied Eddie’s face. “You okay?”
Eddie growled low in reply, “Yes.”
“God, you’re a beautiful bastard. And you’re all mine tonight, aren’t

you?”

Eddie flexed and preened and watched as Andrew’s breath seemed

to stutter. If Andrew had a size kink, then Eddie knew exactly how to be
his fantasy man.

Eddie tried an “Mmm,” accompanied by a lift of his hips that

brought his balls right up against Andrew’s cheek. “All yours.”

Andrew’s eyes shuttered closed, and he turned to take Eddie’s ball

sac into his mouth. He didn’t have an ounce of shy in him; he just dived
right in, licking and sucking…teasing Eddie’s balls with his tongue.

Andrew drove Eddie crazy with sensuous licks up his tight,

throbbing shaft. He shifted and pulled Eddie’s legs up with him, brushing
cool hands over the quivering bulk of Eddie’s quads while he dived
down, enveloping Eddie’s cock with the moist heat of his mouth, pulling
him deep into the tightening muscles of his throat.

“Ah God.” Eddie tensed as one of Andrew’s hands slipped behind

his balls to thumb the hidden skin there. Light strokes and bold deliberate
pressure sent waves of pleasure up Eddie’s spine.

Eddie’s dick was awash with saliva and his own slick juices.

Andrew’s tongue teased him. Andrew’s mouth tightened and contracted
around him. Eddie made an inarticulate plea for harder and deeper and
God…just more. He moaned in bitter disappointment when Andrew
stopped what he was doing to undo the buttons on his shirt. Eddie caught
Andrew’s hands to stop him, oddly reluctant to let go of the fantasy of
man and beast, of the scientist and the experiment. With a sly wink,
Andrew kept his clothes on.

“You want me to stay dressed?” Andrew asked shrewdly. His

eyebrows lifted in question. “You want me to fuck you with my clothes
on?”

“Mmm,” Eddie grunted in reply, hoping to God he hadn’t seriously

miscalculated.

Even though he’d never considered role-play before, there was an

image clear in Eddie’s mind. It was oh so hot imagining Andrew in the
role of a sensuous Dr. Frankenstein to Eddie’s stitched-together monster.

Of course, Frankenstein’s monster would have carried his doctor

off over his shoulder, but the newly submissive Eddie would be
expected to lie docile and mildly curious while Professor Andrew
inspected him.

While Professor Andrew studied him inside and out.
The idea had merit.
Eddie groaned again as a fresh wave of desire flooded his senses.
“Hm.” Andrew regarded Eddie while he pulled his wallet out of his

back pocket and laid it on the bed. With slow, maddening precision,
Andrew unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. His long, slender cock
bobbed free. It was beautiful—an alabaster sculpture of a dick, fully
erect, pale except for a blushing violet head and a tracery of fine blue
veins along its ivory length.

That cock was so sweet Eddie’s mouth watered. He couldn’t take

his eyes off Andrew’s dick, not even while Andrew removed and
opened a pillow pack of lube to slick Eddie’s opening, not even while
Andrew covered his cock with a condom and gave a nudge to Eddie’s
hole to prepare him.

Eddie’s gaze lifted from that sweet cock to Andrew’s eyes, and

what he found there—such tenderness and longing—he wanted to drown
in.

Andrew was practiced. He was gentle and precise. He lined his

cock up and rocked forward slowly, carefully cradling Eddie’s legs in
the bends of his elbows. He gave Eddie time to get used to the intrusion.

“Okay?” Andrew asked softly. “Is this okay? Because I’ll wait until

you’re ready, but I’m dying to come at you hard, Eddie. I’m dying to
drive into all that muscled heat and tightness, and knock you right over
the edge.”

Eddie couldn’t form the words, so he nodded. All his muscles

pulled taut while his body fought off Andrew’s invasion. But God, how
he wanted what Andrew offered. He needed it. He ground his teeth in
frustration. Andrew was thoughtful. He was thorough and deliberate,
while all Eddie wanted was to be devoured like a piece of ripe fruit.

Something of Eddie’s desperation must have been clear on his face,

because Andrew gripped his hips firmly to lift him and plunged his cock
the rest of the way in. Pain speared into Eddie, but it was a bright,

searing burn, then over quickly, supplanted by fullness and perfect,
spine-tingling pleasure.

Andrew half sighed, half grunted when his balls hit Eddie’s ass.

“God, you feel perfect. Can I move?”

“Go, go,” Eddie urged as Andrew drew nearly his whole length

back and surged inside Eddie again. The pleasure blew Eddie’s
composure to bits. Long strokes, short strokes. Soft and sharp. Twists
and turns. Eddie lifted his hips and arched his back and took everything
Andrew had to give him even as his whimpers and flexing fingers
begged for more.

Andrew pushed Eddie’s legs nearly to his chest, immobilizing him,

holding him so open, so widely exposed he felt all his muscles weaken
with each thrust. Each wave possessed him. Each upsurge carried him
higher until he was soaring on a crest of pure sensation. Each thrust, each
brush against his sweet spot pulled him from his body to scatter him
among the stars.

“Ah, Eddie.” Andrew bucked wildly as Eddie lost himself to the

first tingles of climax. Nothing could stop the rush of pleasure building.
Eddie felt swallowed whole. He was flying, falling, drowning in pure
sensation.

“Andrew,” Eddie nearly sobbed with relief. “God, Andrew.”
“Shh. You’re like tight velvet. Hold me. Hold me…”
“Yes,” Eddie cried out as Andrew took his hips in a crushing grip.

Spunk shot from Eddie’s cock in electrifying bursts. It ribboned over his
belly and chest. It spattered his face and dotted the headboard behind
him before he felt the last dying trickles of jiz pool on his stomach.

“Christ, Eddie. You’re sweet.” Andrew ground into Eddie, sliding

into release while Eddie pulsed beneath him. Passion made his voice
harsh. “So…goddamned…sweet.”

Andrew’s face contorted with pleasure when he came. He looked

fierce. Primal. Almost angelic. Eddie stroked his cheek with gentle
fingers while he got his breath back and his heart stopped thundering.

Eddie winced when Andrew pulled out—it had been a long time

since he’d done anything exactly that…athletic with his ass. He huffed an
embarrassed laugh when Andrew rolled off to lie staring up at the
ceiling.

Eddie felt boneless and breathless. Exhausted. Andrew gave a

chuckle of his own.

Eddie wasn’t ready to turn and look at him yet. “There’s a trash can

on the side of the bed there.”

After Andrew got rid of the condom, he reached for Eddie’s hand.
“Somebody’s a little kinky,” Andrew singsonged.
“Oh yeah?” Eddie’s cheeks heated. “Would that be you or me?”
“Can I get rid of my clothes now?” Andrew teased. “Or do you

want me to dress up in something else?”

“Shit. That was so fucking hot.” Eddie blinked away his fucked-out

lassitude. “You want to stay?”

“I can stay, if you’d like.” Andrew shifted his hips over until they

were touching again, and just that small bit of contact between them
made Eddie happier than he’d have believed. “I don’t want to overstay.”

“There’s no danger of that.” Eddie rolled over and slung his arm

around Andrew’s waist, drawing him close. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“No?”
“Not nearly.” Eddie’s voice was barely a whisper. A sigh between

them. Eddie felt Andrew’s breath on his skin, and his cock started to fill
again.

“Good to know.” Andrew’s lashes swept down, hiding that sparkle

of mischief in his eyes. He lifted his face for another kiss and then rose
from the bed. “In that case, I’m going to make myself at home.”

“By all means.” Eddie watched with growing appreciation as

Andrew took off his clothes and laid them over a chair before heading to
the bathroom. “I have to warn you. I promised Mrs. Henderson’s lawyer
I’d meet him at her house tomorrow at ten.”

Andrew came back to bed with a damp cloth, which Eddie

appreciated because his legs still felt like rubber. “So early?”

“Since when is ten early?” Eddie asked.
“On a Sunday ten is early. Those are the rules.”
“Ah, but see, most Sundays I get up at seven a.m., hit the gym, and

go over to my family’s place. I’m the official handyman for the whole
Vasquez clan. You wait. Someone’s going to call tomorrow to say
they’ve got a toilet that needs replacing or somebody put a doorknob

through the drywall again.”

“Seven a.m.?” Andrew groaned. “Sunday is my day to laze around

the house reading. I go to brunch with my friends at noon. You’re my
new boyfriend, so I’m required to bring you along. Everyone will want
to meet you.”

Eddie smiled at that. “I’m your new boyfriend? When were you

going to tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.” Andrew tossed the towel in the direction of

the bathroom. “I’ve been fantasizing you were my boyfriend since I met
you last year. You didn’t catch on too quick, though.”

“I’m an idiot.” Eddie draped his arm over his eyes. “You don’t

have to remind me.”

“What finally tipped you off? The fact that I didn’t let a

conversation go by without mentioning a seminal piece of LGBT
literature, or the fact that I drooled all over myself whenever you came
by.”

“I should have thrown caution to the wind a long time ago. I had

tickets to Tango Argentina, and I almost asked you out then.”

“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. You’re a teacher, and I’m just—”
“Don’t you dare.” Andrew knee-walked across the bed to loom

over him. “I don’t know everything about you yet, but I don’t for a
second believe you’re ‘just’ anything. You’ve got a successful business
and a nice house. You’re good-looking, and you care about your family.
By anybody’s standard, you’re a helluva catch.”

Eddie stayed silent for a long time. Then he admitted, “I didn’t do

so well in school.”

“You seem to be doing well in life, Eddie.” Andrew pressed a soft

kiss to his lips. “Lots of people do wonderfully in school and then fail in
life. My father has a PhD, and he’s—” Andrew broke off.

“He’s what?”
“He disappointed.” Andrew laced his fingers with Eddie’s.

“Having an advanced college degree doesn’t magically translate into
success.”

“I guess not. But not having one is a problem too. My father was

pretty disappointed I stopped after an AA.”

“Was he?”
“My brothers and sister all have bachelor’s degrees.”
Andrew played with the whorls of hair around Eddie’s navel. “You

could still go back if you wanted to.”

“I could, although I don’t see the time I spend paying off, given the

nature of the work I do.”

“A business degree is always useful.”
“My partner Gabe has an MBA.”
“Oh.”
“You’d like my partners. Or not.” Eddie chuckled. “I can’t decide

whether I should introduce you to them. I don’t know how you’ll feel
about me after they’re done telling you all my secrets.”

“It’s like that, is it?”
Eddie nodded. “We’ve known each other forever. They like to give

me a hard time.”

“I’m going to close my eyes for a catnap, and then I’ll be giving you

a hard time too.”

“Whatever you want, B. Andrew Daley,” Eddie said sleepily.
“It’s just Andrew.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what that ‘B’ stands for?”
“It’s Boston,” Andrew said quietly. “Which happens to be my dad’s

favorite band and the city where he was born. I hate it.”

“Sorry.”
“You don’t name your son after a city.”
“Gringos have weird names.”
“Right.” Andrew snorted. “Certainly no Latino parents would ever

name a kid something weird.”

“In my family we leave the weird stuff for nicknames that have

nothing to do with your original name. I have cousins we call Chuy and
Flaco and Fatboy. I’m Cha-Cha.” He laced his fingers with Andrew’s. “I
like the name Andrew.”

“Not Andy?”
“Nope. Never Andy. Andy’s a cartoon cowboy.” Eddie ran the tip

of his finger down Andrew’s slim, straight nose. “From now on I’m
calling you BOS, like the airport.”

“Over my dead body.” Andrew pulled Eddie’s arm over him like a

blanket so they ended up spooning. “Sleep until I need you to service me
again.”

Chapter Nine

Eddie’s gaze found Andrew occasionally as they ate. His heart still

wobbled from bone-deep satisfaction. He’d had some of the hottest sex
of his life the night before, and that morning he’d woken with Andrew
draped along his back, rubbing his skin, tracing his muscles, happily
covering him, hanging on by his fingers and toes like a remora clinging to
a nurse shark.

Together they made a giant, two-headed creature of skin and bone

and sweat and sticky cum. A creature of blowjobs and hours of kissing
that left beard burn like a permanent blush on Andrew’s pale cheeks,
after which they’d snacked on fresh fruit and yogurt and toaster waffles.
Eddie had eaten from Andrew’s fork as much as he’d eaten from his
own, and God, it was sweet.

It was as if every time Eddie had moved boxes for “Mr. Daley” at

school, every time he’d taken pictures of Lucy and her classmates
chasing after a ball or performing a song, every outing he’d chaperoned
led up to the moment when what they could have together was finally
there between them. Friendship and comfort and laughter and sex—all
right there if they were smart enough to scrabble for it.

Was Andrew his boyfriend? Yep. They were boyfriends.
Andrew said it, so it must be true.
“Do you want to come with me to meet Graham and Matt for brunch

later?”

“I need to meet Mrs. Henderson’s lawyer at her place to give him

an estimate. It could take some time. Maybe I should drop you back at
your place so you’ll have your car.”

“I don’t mind going with you.”
“I—” Eddie hesitated.
“Listen to me. I’m planning your whole weekend.” Andrew flushed

and turned away. “It’s fine if you want to drop me off at my place, and
call when you want to spend some more time together, okay?”

“It’s not that.” Eddie cupped Andrew’s chin and turned him back

around. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. I just don’t think—”

“If you need some time alone, it’s fine.” Andrew brushed Eddie’s

hair back from his forehead and pressed a kiss there. He didn’t seem

angry. If anything, he was gracious. “I’m not going to pull up to your
house next week with all my shit in a moving van. It’s okay if you want
to hit the brakes a little. You know where to find me. We’ve got time.”

“It’s not that. I’d like to have second breakfast with you and your

Hobbit friends. I just don’t want you to see what I do for a living. Not up
close, anyway, before I explain it.”

“Because you clean houses or something?” Andrew asked. “Do you

think I’m going to act like some kind of a snob because you work for a
living?”

“Of course not. At least, I’m pretty sure—” Eddie stopped and took

both Andrew’s hands in his. “At Brothers Grime we face some pretty
tough things. We go where there’s a biohazard. We clean trauma scenes
and traffic accidents and places where people have died and gone
undiscovered for a while.”

“Trauma scenes?” Andrew said with surprise. “I’ve seen that on

television.”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I didn’t really think it was good

date conversation.”

“That’s what Lucy meant when she said you cleaned dead people.

At first I thought she meant you worked in the death-care industry, but
when you said you owned an industrial-cleaning business, I thought—”

“Lucy said I clean dead people?” Eddie cleared his throat. “Mostly

the dead people are gone when we arrive. The coroner takes away the…
the decedent…and we clean the scene where they died.”

Andrew stared at him wide-eyed for longer than Eddie liked, then

broke into a smile. “That is awesome.”

“It’s—” Eddie paused. “It is?”
“You do something hardly anyone talks about.”
“I guess I do.”
“I want to see what it’s like. Can I go to Mrs. Henderson’s with

you?”

“It’s not a circus. Someone died.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Andrew’s expression tightened. “Like

I’d go to gawk or…”

Eddie gave him the benefit of the doubt. I hope you didn’t. “You

remember the odor, right?”

“Yes.”
“Mr. Henderson’s body was in their home for a while,

decomposing. Gasses form and get released. It takes no time for flies to
get involved. It’s not going to be pleasant in there.”

“I’m serious.” Andrew glanced at their hands. “I want to see, even

though it scares me a little.”

“It scares you?” Eddie asked. “My job scares you?”
“Death scares me. Illness. Whatever. I was young when my mother

passed away, and I probably formed some pretty weird ideas about dead
people.”

“I’m sorry.”
“It’s because she died at home, but they kept me away from her at

the end. Either she didn’t want me to see her so sick, or my dad was
worried I’d have nightmares. He kept saying it was for my own good. I
can’t help but feel if she’d let me look at her, let me see what was really
happening to her, it wouldn’t have scared me nearly as much as what I
imagined did. I guess I pictured she must be some decaying zombie, or
—”

“A child’s imagination can be a powerful thing.”
“I had nightmares for years anyway. The worst featured a giant bird

that came every night to tear my mother’s stomach apart and eat her vital
organs. I don’t know where that one came from.”

“Maybe from Prometheus?”
“Oh my God. You’re right. Wow. Probably. I loved reading

mythology when I was a kid. That probably explains a lot of my
nightmares.”

“It might,” Eddie agreed. From what little he’d read of mythology,

he gathered it was scary stuff.

“Speaking of which, I haven’t seen a single bookcase in your

house,” Andrew complained. “How can I get inside your head if I can’t
snoop through your bookshelves?”

“I have a tablet. What’s not on there is on my backup hard drive.

You can look through those anytime you like. Well, next time, because
we have to get ready to go.”

“You’re such a tease. No fair.” Andrew laughed. “God.

Prometheus. How did I never put two and two together?”

“Do you really want to go with me this morning?”
“Yes.”
“The Henderson place might be okay. Maybe you can handle it, and

maybe you can’t, but I can guarantee you’ll be happier if you get in on the
shallow end of the pool. Mr. Henderson’s death was from natural
causes, so this is it.”

“I’m coming with you.” Andrew set his jaw resolutely. “Unless you

think I’ll be a hindrance to you.”

“It’s fine with me, but I could go in there and make my notes while

you wait outside. You could save yourself the experience entirely. This
isn’t quien es mas macho.”

“I’m not doing this to be macho, and I’m not idly curious.” Andrew

squeezed Eddie’s fingers. “In our society, everything about death is
sanitized for your protection, but knowledge is power, and I want to
know. You can understand that, right?”

“I can.” Eddie understood, and he sympathized. He still wasn’t so

sure it was the best thing to tear the veil off all life’s mysteries—death
being the big one. “This kind of work changes people. I’ve built up a
tolerance, maybe.”

“It doesn’t seem to have changed how you treat people. It hasn’t

made you unfeeling.”

“No, it hasn’t.” Truth was, it probably made him more sentimental

in certain areas of his life. But he’d always been good at
compartmentalizing. That was how he kept the violence of being a
bouncer and the pump-and-dump mentality of sleazy nightclubs and bars
that sold sex in the form of strippers from affecting his family life.
Compared to that, cleaning up after death was a public service. “All
right. Come on.”

Chapter Ten

Andrew got out of Eddie’s car and faced the house. There was a

sedan parked in the driveway with an older man standing beside it.
Andrew figured he must be the Hendersons’ lawyer—the family friend—
Bill Laurence.

Eddie went to the trunk for something and returned holding a mask

and gloves. “Put these on. If the smell gets to you, I have some
eucalyptus rub.”

“It’s cool.” Andrew slipped the mask over his head but left it

dangling around his neck while they walked up the driveway. He already
had goose bumps all over his skin.

Eddie put on his gloves as he approached the lawyer. Bill Laurence

greeted Eddie warmly. Andrew watched, aware they shared a personal
grief. For Mr. Laurence, who’d lost his best friend, it was only natural.
Andrew wondered about Eddie though—wondered how any man could
have such reverence for a teacher he’d had twenty years ago.

Eddie didn’t seem to have any trouble separating his emotions from

his reason for being there. He put a comforting hand on Bill’s shoulder.
“This is my friend, Andrew. He’s the teacher I told you about, the one
who found Mrs. Henderson and phoned the police.”

“Hello.” Bill shook Andrew’s hand. “Thank you for helping out

with Dot.”

They exchanged sad smiles. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Bill looked a little shocky, like his friend’s death was

hitting him pretty hard. “I have the keys. I admit I’m rather apprehensive
about all this. I can’t imagine…”

Eddie said, “You don’t have to go inside with us.”
“No. I should go. It’s my responsibility. I need to assume my role as

Phil’s executor right away if I’m to see to it Dorothy gets the care she
needs.”

“Here.” Eddie handed Bill a mask and gloves. “You’ll need these.”
“All right.” Bill slipped one of his gloves on, donned his mask, and

keyed the front door lock. As soon as he opened the door to the small
house, the stench of death reached them.

“Oh my God.” Bill raised his arm to his face.
Andrew reflexively adjusted his mask over the bridge of his nose.

Bill gagged.

Andrew watched without comment as Eddie ushered Bill away.

Once they’d gone a few feet, he patted Bill’s back while the man leaned
over, gasping for breath. Eddie’s compassion confirmed what Andrew
had always known. Eddie was one of the good guys, all the way to his
bones.

Andrew’s heart tightened around the word boyfriend and snuggled

in with the idea, getting used to the feel of it.

“I don’t think I can do this,” the lawyer said miserably.
Eddie said, “Wait in your car, Bill. I can take things from here.”
“You can handle that…that horrific smell?”
Eddie nodded. “I can. I’ll make notes while I’m in there, and come

back out and talk to you, okay?”

“God.” Bill waved Eddie away before heading to his car. “I just

need a minute.”

“Sure. I’m going to go see what we’re up against. Things will be

fine. I promise you.”

Eddie returned to Andrew. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Andrew let Eddie lead the way.
The place was a single-story home, a little on the small side, a little

cluttered. That it belonged to a teacher was obvious: every shelf, every
table was covered with apple-themed tchotchkes, picture frames,
figurines, even clumsy clay ashtrays. No doubt they were gifts she’d
received over the years. Given the décor—burgundy and hunter green—
the place felt like a time capsule.

Andrew heard a low hum. He turned to see Eddie heading down the

hall. “What’s that noise?”

Eddie put his hand up to stop him. “Wait here.”
Andrew waited. In some indefinable way, he was getting used to the

odor. It wasn’t that he couldn’t still smell it. It wasn’t that it was any less
wretched. It was simply that as he made himself focus on Eddie’s strong
back—on doing what Eddie told him to do—he stopped thinking about it.

The only problem was Eddie wanted him to wait where he was, and

he felt the irresistible urge to move forward. To face what was behind
the door.

Andrew needed to find out what Eddie saw when he opened it.
His feet carried him forward before his brain registered what he

was doing. He found Eddie in a bedroom full of flies. They were
everywhere in massive clouds over the bed. Maggots writhed, stark
against horribly stained, salmon-colored bed linens.

Andrew saw everything, but he couldn’t process it. Eddie glanced

toward him, his face unhappy and pale behind his mask. Andrew made a
helpless noise before all the color faded from his field of vision. He
turned, overcorrected, and started to fall.

Eddie caught him and ushered him out. “Didn’t I say wait?”
“I couldn’t.”
“You wouldn’t,” Eddie countered.
“If I had, my imagination would have gone into overdrive forever,”

Andrew told him. “Have you never heard the saying, ‘’Tis the eye of
childhood that fears a painted devil’?”

“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means everyone has to grow up sometime.” Andrew gnawed his

lower lip anxiously. “This moment seems to call for Lady Macbeth.”

Eddie’s gaze softened. “What the moment calls for is some common

sense. You almost fainted.”

“I tripped. I told you, I’m clumsy.”
“Go out front with Bill and get a breath of fresh air. I’ll finish up

here. I just need to make some notes.”

Andrew nodded. He’d seen what he came to see. Eddie turned

away, but Andrew stopped him. “Wait.”

“What?”
“Nature just erases us, doesn’t it?” He waved back at the bedroom.

“How can all that happen so fast?”

“Nature gets its start quickly. The heat wave we had didn’t help.”
“How do you face it?”
“I don’t think about it.”
Andrew weighed Eddie’s answer against what he knew of the man.

“Yes, you do.”

Eddie shrugged. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Andrew watched as Eddie walked back into Mrs. Henderson’s

bedroom, and then he left to join Bill, who stood on the driveway
smoking a cigarette. Andrew took off his mask and gloves and shoved
them in his pocket.

“I have a pretty weak stomach,” Bill said sheepishly. “I didn’t last

ten seconds.”

“I don’t blame you.”
“You did much better than I did.”
“I doubt it’s a contest.”
“Mr. Vasquez seems to be able to handle it pretty well.”
“He’s used to it.”
“Yeah.” Bill took a deep drag. “I never imagined.”
“Me neither.” Andrew glanced back at the house. “If Eddie can get

this place nice again, does that mean Mrs. Henderson can live here?”

“That’s a pretty big if, isn’t it? No one could live in it right now.”
Andrew bristled with loyalty. “This is what Eddie does. If he says

he can do it, you can believe him.”

“I don’t know if Dot can stay here. I have to factor in all the

variables, one of which is how independent Dot is now, and another is
how long she’s likely to remain that way. I’m consulting with the
hospital’s liaison and talking to her doctors.”

“She’d probably be happier here, with everything she’s used to

around her.”

“For now. I have to think long term though.” He threw his cigarette

on the ground and crushed it beneath his boat shoe. “Don’t get old.
There’s nothing about it that doesn’t suck.”

Andrew laughed bleakly. “I’ll weigh that against the alternative and

get back to you.”

Eddie joined them. “Bill, I’ll e-mail you a proposal as soon as I get

to the office tomorrow morning. Will that be all right?”

“Sure.” Bill held out his hand again. “Thanks for meeting me on a

Sunday.”

“You’re welcome.” Eddie shook Bill’s hand, and they said their

good-byes.

When Andrew and Eddie got back in the car, Eddie asked, “Where

to? Brunch?”

Andrew rubbed at the golden stubble on his jaw. “It will probably

not come as any kind of surprise to you that food is the farthest thing from
my mind right now.”

Eddie offered a gentle reproof. “I did warn you.”
“I guess we could go and just have drinks. I could use a margarita.”
“All right.” Eddie keyed the ignition and pulled away from the curb.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? I asked to see what you do.”
“I know.” Eddie glanced over at him. “Just so you know, you

wouldn’t be the first man to ask himself whether he really wants to get
involved with someone who does what I do.”

“It’s a lot to take in, but your job’s not a problem for me.”
“No?”
“What you do helps people. Imagine Mrs. Henderson having to

clean it, or—” Andrew’s phone rang, and he looked at the caller ID. His
father. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

“Boston?”
“Dad?” It was hard to hear over the traffic. “Speak up. I’m in a

convertible.”

“They’re at it again!” Andrew’s dad shouted the words. “They’ve

come over the fence, and they’re videotaping. It’s a bunch of kids,
goddammit.”

“Dad, if they’re trespassing on your property, you need to call the

police.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t. I’m just going to show those little

bastards they can’t—”

“Wait, Dad. What are you going to do? What are you saying?”
There was clatter on the other end—noise that made Andrew pull

the phone away from his ear. “Take that, you little prick. Get out of my
yard. Want another?”

Andrew shouted, “Dad, stop! Take a deep breath. Talk to me.

What’s going on?”

The sounds of a scuffle and more clatter. “Take that!” His father

disconnected the call.

“Oh my God.” Andrew turned to Eddie. “Stop, stop! You have to

take me home.”

“What’s wrong?”
“I need to go to my dad’s place.”
“Where is it? I can take you.”
“No. This is my problem.”
“Are you sure? We could make good time.”
“Just take me home. I’ll run over there and do what I need to do. I

don’t know how long I’ll be, I can’t—”

“All right.” Eddie turned the car toward Andrew’s place.
“It’s not that I didn’t have a great time.”
“I said it’s all right. Things happen.”
Andrew put his hand on Eddie’s. “Thanks for everything. Especially

for letting me in on what you do. That was really”—Andrew didn’t have
a word for what it was—“something.”

“Anytime, Andrew. It was my pleasure.”
Andrew smiled. “Not entirely.”
The drive took only a few minutes, but Andrew was so keyed up it

seemed like forever until they got to his place.

Eddie pulled his keys from the ignition. “Well—”
Andrew caught Eddie off guard when he cupped Eddie’s face

between his hands and kissed him soundly. Eddie adjusted to his kiss,
relaxing, opening for Andrew’s tongue.

Eddie was heaven to kiss. The planes of his face were broad, the

surfaces freshly shaved and—despite their visit to Mrs. Henderson’s
house—his skin still smelled faintly of something citrusy. He captured
Andrew’s lower lip and gave it a nip before letting it go with a long,
sensuous tug.

“I love kissing you,” Andrew blurted.
“Right back atcha,” Eddie said on a sigh.
“Soon, yeah?”
“Just try and keep me away.” Eddie’s brows furrowed. “I don’t

mean that in a psycho way.”

“I know what you mean.” Andrew opened the passenger door. “I’ll

see you when you drop Lucy off.”

“You will.”
“Keep in touch, and I’ll call you at least by the middle of the week,

depending on what’s up with my dad.”

“Sure.”
“Text me anytime.” Andrew closed the door and backed up the path

toward his apartment. “Even if it’s just to tell me how Mrs. Henderson is
doing, okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie waved.
Andrew walked the rest of the way to his place alone. He had to

change before going over to his dad’s. He had to get his head in the
game, because he hadn’t been to his dad’s place in years.

Obviously, it must have gotten much worse if the neighbors were

coming over the walls to gather evidence for their complaints.

Christ. The last time Andrew saw his dad’s place, he hadn’t thought

it could get worse.

Chapter Eleven

Andrew didn’t have a key to his father’s house. He hadn’t had one

since he’d left home for college. That’s what he was thinking while he
drove to his dad’s—he wondered if his father would even let him in.

The question turned out to be moot because when he got there, his

father was on the driveway talking to two members of the Orange County
Sheriff’s department.

Andrew parked his car across the street and threaded his way

through the crowd of neighbors who didn’t seem to have torches and
pitchforks but definitely weren’t there to provide Andrew’s dad with
moral support.

“Dad?”
Andrew’s dad looked like he’d aged years since they’d last seen

each other. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see what the heck was going on.”
His father pressed his lips together and glanced away.
One of the officers spoke to Andrew. “We were talking to your

father about some appropriate responses to trespassing.”

“What did you do?” Andrew asked. Reese Daley remained silent.

“Dad?”

Andrew looked the crowd of bystanders over. Most of them were

casually dressed as if they’d been spending a quiet Sunday morning at
home doing chores. He was most interested in a man and two boys
whose hair and shirts were slimy and had suspicious viscous yellow
streaks.

“Dad. Did you egg them?” Andrew sounded shrill, even to himself.
Andrew’s father snapped, “It’s not illegal. I was defending my

property. I feared for my life.”

“Mr. Daley,” said one of the sheriff’s deputies. Andrew and his

father both turned at the sound of their name. “Nobody’s pressing
charges here. As we understand it, your property has been inspected, and
you’ve been notified the waste in your yard must be removed by a
specified date?”

“Do you see this, son?” Reese glared at Andrew. “See what

happens when Big Brother steps in?”

“Dad—”
“Despite the fact we live in a police state, we have rights.” Reese

turned to the deputy. “The city can take this up with my lawyer. I am not
hurting anyone. These people trespassed on my property.”

“I’ve talked to them, Mr. Daley.” The officer was patient. “They

understand you’re well within your rights to call the police and have
them removed and prosecuted if they trespass again.”

“That’s not enough. They’ve been spying on me, taking pictures.

Posting them on the Web.”

Andrew’s heart sank. His father was a proud man. Being on display

like that had to be especially painful for him.

“Dad—”
“Are we done here then?” Reese asked the closest deputy.
“We’re done for now, but if you don’t ameliorate the situation there

will be a follow-up.”

“The city can talk to my lawyer.” Reese started up the path back to

his house, leaving Andrew to face the crowd.

The deputy said, “You should probably talk to your father about this

situation.”

“Do you suppose I haven’t?”
The man scribbled a URL on the back of a business card and handed

it over. “Orange County Mental Health has a support system for people
in your father’s situation. These people are professionals who can help
him work through this. Once someone’s home gets to this point, we have
little choice. He’ll need to make a good faith effort.”

“I understand.”
“We’ve been called here before.” The man leaned toward Andrew

and said, “I like your dad. He’s a good guy in a bad situation. They’re
lucky they didn’t come over my fence, or they’d be leaving in a body
bag. I told the neighbors they need to leave him alone to sort this out, but
there are several building codes he’s violating. If he doesn’t clear the
yard, I know for a fact the building inspector will come back with a
warrant for the house. If the inside is as bad as the outside…” The
deputy left the thought unfinished.

“Thank you for your candor. I hope my dad will listen.”
“Our parents can be bullheaded sometimes. We can only try.” The

deputy gave Andrew a nod and went to join his colleagues.

“Show’s over, people. Time to go home.” Together, the officers

cleared away the crowd, sending everyone back where they came from.
For that, Andrew was grateful.

After they left, Andrew stood alone on the street. His father’s place

sat in the bend of a residential cul-de-sac. There were a thousand others
like it. It was the same kind of neighborhood featured in every family
comedy film, every movie about strange suburban neighbors or ghosts
from sacred burial grounds determined to rid themselves of new
construction.

He walked up the path to the front door, noticing his father’s lawn

was full of weeds but still appeared recently mown. A lacy pattern of
tattered cobwebs clung to the stucco around the porch light, featuring the
remains of a long-dead moth. Several signs warning off solicitors were
posted in the window next to the front door, between dirty glass and
dirtier miniblinds.

Ants marched smartly along the edge of the porch near the entry

door, disappearing by droves into the crack between the weather
stripping and the doorjamb.

Oh, Dad.
Andrew knocked on the door.

Chapter Twelve

Early Monday morning Eddie entered the office in a pretty good

mood. He’d noticed Gabe’s new-school muscle car out front, and
Dave’s SUV was parked beside it, but he figured they must have walked
down the street for coffee since all the lights were off and the office pot
was empty. He could blame Gabe’s frugality for the lack of light, but if
he was in the office, he always, always made coffee.

Eddie went about the task of getting a pot going, strong, as he liked

it. After setting everything up, he left the kitchen area and headed to his
office to fire up his computer and check his schedule. While he powered
up his electronics, he thought about Andrew and how abruptly things had
ended the day before.

He hadn’t heard from Andrew, but that wasn’t cause for concern.

They’d only gone on a couple of dates, after all, even if one had ended in
some pretty spectacular sex. If Andrew was having family problems,
Eddie wouldn’t expect him to call until things were settled.

Eddie was patient, but at the same time he didn’t want Andrew

thinking he wasn’t interested. He hedged his bets by sending a text
message that read: I had a nice time over the weekend, thank you. Have
a good day.

In the Big Book of Eddie, it never hurt to let people know you were

thinking of them.

The schedule was light for the day. Eddie sent Bill Laurence an

estimate for Mrs. Henderson’s house and made a call about another job.
Crime spiked as the weather warmed up. So did other jobs, because
people who died alone decomposed faster. Eddie hated his awareness of
that. It seemed like they counted on other people’s tragedy to make a
buck, but Grime’s business thrived on misfortune. The fact was they
were providing a valuable service, and that made up for any feelings of
guilt he had.

A noise from Gabe’s office drew Eddie’s attention. He’d been so

focused on his work he hadn’t heard Gabe come in. Eddie walked across
the hall and opened the door. He found Dave sitting in Gabe’s chair,
hands flat on the table. His head was tilted back, and his eyes were
closed.

“Hi, Dave.” Eddie glanced around. “Did you sleep here?”
Dave’s eyes snapped open, but otherwise he didn’t move a muscle.

“No.”

“I don’t know where Gabe went. I made coffee. Want some?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks again for helping out with Mrs. Henderson.” Eddie leaned

against the door frame. “I went over to the house and talked to the
attorney yesterday. He’s doing the math to see whether she has the
resources to live at home for a while with a caregiver, or if the place
will need to be sold.”

Dave nodded.
“Listen, when Gabe gets in would you ask if he wants to go to

Flappy Jack’s after Skippy and Kim take the van out? I’m up for a big
breakfast. And tell him we’re checking the inventory today.”

“Sure,” Dave said roughly.
That was when Eddie noticed the soles of Gabe’s bare feet sticking

out from under the desk, and the whole tableau made sudden, perfect
sense. “Gabe?”

Gabe’s head thumped hard on the underside of the desk, causing a

mugful of pens to fall over, spilling all over the floor. Gabe cursed long
and loud in Spanish as he struggled to get free.

“What the hell? Are you kidding me?” Eddie backed out of the

office.

“Wait.” Dave flew into damage-control mode. “Fuck, wait.”
Eddie closed the door with an embarrassed tug and headed toward

the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drew him like a tractor
beam. He tried not to laugh, but it was pretty amusing catching Gabe and
Dave like that.

A few minutes later, Gabe and Dave came to find him. Gabe looked

embarrassed, but Dave seemed angry.

He glared at Eddie. “Do not say a word—”
“Shut up, Dave.” Gabe poured Dave a cup of coffee and handed it

over. “Eddie isn’t going to go blabbing.”

“Who says I’m not?” Eddie eyed them both. Christ, Dave should

come out already. Who was Eddie going to tell that didn’t already

know?

“Eddie,” Dave warned. “Don’t fuck with me.”
“What are you going to do?” Eddie watched Dave’s face drain of

all color. “Oh, forget it. Your secret is safe with me, Dave.”

“Good,” Dave snapped.
“May I make a suggestion? Don’t screw around in public if you

don’t want to get caught. And you.” Eddie turned a raised eyebrow
toward Gabe.

Gabe flushed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He added cream

and several packets of sugar. The silence was so absolute the
refrigerator’s hum sounded like a call to battle stations.

When no one said anything, Gabe sighed. “All right. It was a…

seize-the-moment thing.”

“I guess so.” Eddie kept his face neutral, but not without effort.

“That is all kinds of inappropriate, Gabriel. This is a business.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dave muttered darkly. “Like you’ve never done

anything like that.”

“Actually I haven’t.”
“Not for lack of trying though, I’ll bet,” said Gabe. He caught Dave

by the arm and hauled him back to his office door. “Not a word about
this, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded. “My lips—unlike yours, apparently—are sealed.”
Gabe pulled Dave into his office with a few cajoling words and

closed the door behind them.

“God, you guys get up to some weird shit,” Skippy said from the

hallway leading to the loading dock.

Eddie turned and discovered Skippy had probably been standing in

the shadows all along. Sneaky bastard. “Ah, man. Dave would die if he
knew you were standing there.”

“I ain’t going to tell him. Are you?”
“Nah.” Eddie held up the pot to offer Skippy coffee.
Skippy picked his World’s Greatest Dad mug off a hook and held it

out. “I had his number right away. Mr. Down-Low, my ass.”

“You’re a shrewd judge of character.” Eddie poured him a cup and

asked, “You guys have everything covered for today?”

“I’m just waiting for Kim, and then we’re on our way. We’ve got an

apartment had a dead guy in it for a while. Same old, same old. How
about you?”

“Paperwork mostly. If I hear back from Laurence, I’ll get started on

Mrs. Henderson’s place today. That’s over by Taft.”

“That’s the school where your niece goes?”
“Yeah.”
Skippy’s smile creased his eyes into smile lines over the rim of his

mug. “Maybe you can get in a little afternoon delight with that teacher of
yours.”

“I don’t think that’s—”
“Don’t think, papi.” Skippy waved his hand. “Just take him some

lunch. You know you want to.”

“I doubt that would be appropriate.”
Skippy pointed at Eddie. “You get a U for unsatisfactory effort

there, my friend.”

“Yeah, well. That wouldn’t be my first. I always did do crap at

school.”

Skippy frowned. “On account of your reading thing?”
“I’m not the good-student type.”
“Then you’d better get a little one-on-one time with your hot

teacher, huh?”

Skippy took his coffee back to the loading dock, leaving Eddie

alone to think about all the different ways he could frame the question,
Can I bring you lunch?

In the end, he decided to go with simple honesty and took out his

phone again. Andrew hadn’t replied to his earlier text, but it was a
school day, and he was bound to be busy.

He pulled out his phone and spoke. “I might be working in the

neighborhood today comma can I buy you lunch question mark.”

An hour later, when no answer came to either text, Eddie put his

phone away so he wouldn’t be staring at it, waiting. He went to Gabe’s
office and found him alone. Eddie glanced around, deliberately keeping
his eyes off the space beneath the desk. “Did Dave leave?”

“Yeah.” Gabe frowned. “He’s pissed.”

“Sorry. How was I to know?”
“It’s not your fault. He’s being an asshole.”
“I don’t suppose we should tell him Skippy saw us in the kitchen.”
“Christ. That’s the last thing I need.” Gabe rubbed his temples.
“Skippy doesn’t carry tales,” Eddie pointed out. “He doesn’t care

enough.”

“I know.”
“But you and Dave? How’d that come about?”
“I guess I look enough like Jack,” Gabe said bitterly.
“Dave’s not that big an asshole.”
Gabe sighed. “I know.”
“It’s been a long time coming for you. You always had a thing for

him.”

Gabe didn’t contradict him. He merely shrugged.
“So don’t borrow trouble. Could be Jack was a warm-up act, and

you’re the headliner.”

“I’m the head something, all right.”
“You want to know what I think?” Eddie asked. “Get him out of

town. Lie if you have to. Take him away from all this day-to-day shit. Go
to the mountains or drive up the coast. Go to the wine country or Vegas.
Someplace where no one knows you and just…stay there for a few
days.”

“Like he’d take a vacation.” Gabe shook his head. “RoboCop don’t

play that.”

“Yeah he will,” Eddie said. “I think this time, he will.”
“Because he’s hurting over Jack.” Gabe stood and shoved his hands

in his pockets. Gabe wore his heart out in the open where Dave was
concerned. He always had.

“It’s worth a try.” Eddie felt for Gabe and Dave. They’d be good

together. “You’re the best poker player I know, Gabe. You can usually
tell when it’s time to go all in.”

Gabe straightened. Nodded. Eddie left the room without saying

anything more.

Eddie’s phone vibrated, indicating he had a message. When he got

back to his office, he listened to it.

“Can’t do lunch. Any possibility for dinner later this week?

Thursday?”

“Happy to.” Eddie dictated into his phone. “Just let me know when

and where.”

“Cool,” came the reply. “Soon.”
Eddie sent a smiling face, and Andrew sent one back. He relaxed

into his chair, trying not to acknowledge how happy a simple emoticon
could make him feel.

* * * *

Andrew put his phone away and got out of his car. He’d dressed in

battered, ancient jeans and a T-shirt with paint all over it in the hopes he
could finally persuade his father to let him inside his house to help. He’d
gotten nowhere the day before, only far enough to coax his father out onto
the porch, where they argued for an hour before his dad blew up and sent
him home.

This time he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. His father was

going to lose his house and everything in it if Andrew didn’t convince
him to accept help. He had to understand how precarious his position
was. He had to.

Andrew knocked on the door.
From inside, he heard his father’s voice. “Go away.”
“It’s me, Dad. I took the day off. I’m not going anywhere until you

let me in, even if I have to camp out here and call in sick every day this
week and the next and the next. You know how stubborn I can be.”

“I can handle this myself. I don’t want you here.”
“It’s too late for that. I’m here, and I’m staying until you let me in.”
Andrew heard the sound of chains being removed and deadbolts

turning. The door opened a crack. His father’s eye looked red-rimmed.
Old and dark with sadness and doubt. “Son, I don’t want you here.”

Andrew had practiced what to say. Broken record. That was a

communications technique he’d found rather effective with recalcitrant
first graders. “I’m here, though, and I will not take no for an answer.
Here I am, and here I’ll stay, until you—”

“God, you’re as stubborn as your mother ever was and twice as

obnoxious.”

“Do I need to say it again?” Andrew stood his ground. “Because I

will. I have sunscreen. I packed a lunch. I will go to your neighbors and
ask to use the toilet if I need to but here I am, and—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Boston. All right already. Come in. It’s on you

now.”

“Yes, Father. On my head it is. I take full responsibility,” Andrew

said wryly as his father opened the door with some effort, just wide
enough for him to squeeze through. “And call me Andrew.”

The first thing that hit Andrew was the smell. It wasn’t as bad as the

odor in Mrs. Henderson’s house, but that was only because nothing had
died inside his father’s house—or rather, Andrew hoped nothing had
died. He couldn’t be sure because all he could see were mountains of
trash piled everywhere. Bags and boxes and piles of…God knew what.
Everywhere. Up to the ceiling. Wall to wall.

There weren’t even any paths anymore.
There was no place to move. No place to breathe.
Garbage was everywhere.
Everywhere.
Andrew lost his battle with dizziness. His knees buckled, and he

fell back against the door.

Chapter Thirteen

Thursday couldn’t come soon enough for Eddie. His week had

dragged, from Monday when he’d undergone a thorough inventory of the
business’s supplies to Tuesday when he and Kevin had started the
cleanup on Mrs. Henderson’s house.

Wednesday night, Eddie had slept poorly. He’d never admitted it to

Gabe, but sometimes a scene from work continued to get to him later,
after they were done cleaning. Maybe at times like those, he should call
his friends and let off a little steam, but when it came to sleepless nights,
when the shadows got too close and dreams were sure to turn into
nightmares, Eddie could never find a way to admit he wasn’t as strong as
everyone imagined he was.

In the old days, Eddie had turned to clubs and loud techno music

and strangers who would suck his dick and later, forget his face.

Since he met Andrew, he’d wanted something real or nothing at all.
At first, he’d blamed it on growing older, as if maybe he was finally

maturing a little. It wasn’t long before he realized his newfound romantic
determination was all down to a certain teacher with a heart of gold.

All in. That had been his advice to Gabe because Eddie had chosen

that move himself.

Even if Andrew wasn’t Eddie’s winning hand, he couldn’t float

along from guy to guy indifferent anymore.

Thursday had finally come, and he still hadn’t heard from Andrew.

He and Gabe spent the morning in the cluttered living room of a woman
whose husband had killed himself rather than face another round of
cancer therapies he’d deemed a waste of time.

They sat, listening to the clock tick, watching the widow look over

the cleaning contract. Her adult children stood around her, waiting for
her to get on with the business of living while she sat damp-eyed,
chewing the tip of a pen in the mute agony of the aftermath of death.

Gabe had already phoned her priest and asked him to stop by. He’d

also put her in touch with a support group for those left behind after
suicide and made sure she could stay with her son so she wouldn’t be
alone.

That was Gabe’s gift—the place where his instinct and his empathy

kicked in like a superpower. Witnessing Gabe at work was like
watching a well-choreographed ballet. The more obstacles someone
faced, the more effortless Gabe’s moves seemed until he practically
radiated serenity.

Gabe was the hurricane’s eye, the quiet in the storm. The big sigh of

relief.

“What’s up?” Gabe asked as he and Eddie drove back to the office.

“It’s like you’re not with me today.”

“Sorry. My mind hasn’t been on the job.”
At a stoplight, Gabe peered at him. “You’ve been weird all week.

Is it something about your guy, what’s his name?”

“Andrew.” Eddie nodded. “He got a call and left in a hurry on

Sunday. This morning Lucy said he’s been absent from school all week.”

“And you’re worried?” Gabe asked. “Did you call him?”
“I called and texted a couple of times, but he didn’t respond. We’re

supposed to get together tonight.”

Gabe gave a quick glance his way. “That’s not all though, is it?”
Eddie shook his head. “We’ve been dancing around this thing

between us for months, and when we finally get together, when it finally
happens, it’s…” Eddie leaned back. “I don’t know what it is.”

“It wasn’t what you’d hoped?”
“It was better than I hoped. We just fit, and things probably moved a

lot faster than they should have. Andrew doesn’t seem to have any
inhibitions and I—” Eddie closed his eyes and pictured Andrew lying
along his back, placing kisses at the top of his spine that seemed more
like depth charges that exploded in his dick. “Should I have taken it slow
since he’s not just some guy I picked up at a club? Things got real for
me, and now I wonder if maybe I was just a trick to him, you know?
Maybe—”

“Aw, man. Maybe he’s just got the flu, and you’re worried for

nothing.”

Eddie took a deep breath and blew it out again. “Maybe.”
“You’re supposed to meet him tonight?”
“Yeah, but he hasn’t said where. His calls have been going straight

through to voice mail.”

“So you left a message?”
“Yeah.” Until his mailbox was full.
“I guess that’s all you can do.” Gabe lifted his shoulders. “For what

it’s worth, I think you’re probably a pretty good judge of character. What
do you think is going on?”

“Something came up.” Eddie chewed his lip. “Probably something

with family.”

“So that’s probably what happened.”
“Sure. He’ll call when he can, I guess.”
“Sure.” Gabe nodded. “In the meantime, what do you say we go get

some lunch?”

“All right.”
“You’re buying since I’m giving you love advice.”
“Wait. How do you figure that?” Eddie asked. “I give you love

advice all the time, and nobody buys me lunch.”

“Ah.” Gabe held his finger up like he was testing the wind. “But my

advice is worth something.”

* * * *

Andrew ate a forkful of some too-salty bean salad. He had once

again gone to the deli counter at the local grocery store and purchased
some bits and pieces that could be considered healthy, but only if you
held them up against a fast food meal and not a home-cooked lunch.

Cooking in his father’s house was out of the question for a lot of

reasons. The refrigerator was a study in mold, the sinks were filled with
garbage, and there was no place to sit. He and his father had been
working their way through the one room his father allowed him in, the
living room, but they’d made little headway.

At Andrew’s insistence, they’d cleaned a patio table and some

chairs, and placed them upwind of the worst of the garbage in the yard.

Now his dad sat across from him, dirty and disheveled. He looked

old, but he was still easy on the eyes. He seemed too thin, which made
Andrew frown. His once-red hair was white, and his eyes were sharp
and profoundly blue. He wore jeans and a UMass Boston sweatshirt,
deck shoes with no socks.

Andrew’s heart hurt just looking at his once-tough Boston Irish

father, whose losses had overwhelmed him to the point where he was
living in crazy town.

Reese Daley was educated, highly intelligent, and didn’t suffer

fools. He’d pulled himself out of poverty, gone to college, and married
the love of his life. They’d come to California and opened a bookstore
near the Claremont campus of colleges that at one time served as a sort
of cultural and social mecca. They’d made enough to purchase the strip
mall the bookstore stood on and some land around it before Andrew’s
mother died. The bookstore thrived, and along with raising Andrew, it
became Reese’s life.

But like a lot of brick-and-mortar bookstores, the Daley’s place

didn’t make them rich in the best of times. After Amazon, well… The
sale of the land was enough to fund a very healthy retirement income, and
in the end, Reese Daley couldn’t turn it down.

“You can’t take off work forever.” Reese looked almost comically

uncomfortable—he acted nervous on the scale of Italian opera. “We’ve
made some headway. I can take things from here.”

“No you can’t.” Andrew grabbed his water bottle and chugged a

few swallows. “Your deadline is still looming, and together we’ve
barely made a dent in one room.”

“Nevertheless.” Reese’s lips compressed for a moment before he

spoke again. “You need to go home. This isn’t working.”

“And whose fault is that?” Andrew aimed his empty at a bin where

they’d collected recyclables, and tossed it. It landed right in the center of
the pile and clattered among the hundreds like it.

“It’s my fault.” Reese rested his elbows on the wobbly table and

leaned his head on his hands. “Entirely mine, all right? Is that what you
need to hear? I can’t just snap out of this. I can’t just turn my back and let
you—”

“God, do you understand that when the city condemns this place,

someone—not you and not me but some stranger—will be given the task
of throwing everything you own into those big blue Dumpsters, and
you’ll have fuck all to say about it?”

Reese looked away.
Tears stung Andrew’s eyes. “I’m trying to help. Let me help. My

God, this…this shit can’t be more important to you than—”

“What shit? The things here are valuable. They’re a part of

something your mother and I built together. They’re our history. I admit
it’s gotten a little out of hand.”

“A little?” Andrew gasped. “A little?”
“Hear me out. After the shop went under, I had to rethink things. I

started collecting phonographs and vinyl records. Cameras and
projectors and darkroom equipment. This is technology people think of
as junk now, but it will have nostalgic value when the time is right. At
least think of the books. When I had to sell the bookstore, I swore I
wouldn’t give up, that I’d open a new one someday when the time was
right. I keep telling you, those books are your legacy.”

Andrew closed his eyes to block it all out. “Even if you’re right,

there’s so much garbage—so much other crap—it’s impossible to tell
what’s trash and what’s treasure.”

“The things in my house are inventory.” Reese raised his voice.

“They have value. Photography is still about light and shadow. Vinyl
records have character and quirks digital music doesn’t. People love to
hold books in their hands. People aren’t all soulless bastards who want
to do everything on a computer. I have first editions. I have—”

“You have roaches, eating the binder’s glue!” Andrew shouted over

him. “You have silverfish living in the pages. You have mold and vermin
and God knows what else in there.”

Reese’s fist came down on the table, and their food containers

jumped. “I packed the important things carefully. I made sure they’ll be
all right. In a few years, when the economy isn’t in the shitter and
Amazon isn’t such a novelty, we’ll open another place. Sort of like in the
book The Old Curiosity Shop. People will always want real books.
Real cameras. Record albums and gramophones like their grandparents
had. There’ll be money to spend and a place for nostalgia in people’s
shopping habits again. It’s going to be different when the economy turns
around, and then you’ll see. Things will work out.”

“Oh, hello.” Andrew sat forward. “Am I meant to be little Nell? In

case you’ve forgotten, she dies in the end.”

His father’s mouth quirked up at that. “We all die in the end, son.”
Andrew scrubbed at his face with both hands. He felt filthy. Grime

from their labors had settled into the creases of his skin. When he’d seen

himself in the cracked mirror in his father’s barely usable bathroom,
he’d gasped in shock. He looked like a coal miner. He looked like he’d
fled a forest fire.

“This is too big for the two of us to do. We tried it your way. Now

we do it my way. I called the shrink the city put me in touch with. First
thing Saturday morning she’s coming to meet us here. I’m not asking. I’m
telling.”

Reese drew away. “Christ. Will you listen to yourself?”
“This is the only way you’re going to save this legacy of yours.”

Andrew stood up and checked his pockets for his wallet and keys. “The
only way. I’m coming Saturday morning. If you don’t let me in…”

“What?” His father’s chin came up. His accent was never thicker

than when he was feeling cornered. “What will you do if I don’t roll
over and do every damned thing the city tells me I have to do.”

“I’m done, is what,” Andrew said firmly.
“Done?” Reese’s chair clattered to the floor as he shot to his feet.

“With me? You’d turn your back on family? The only family you got?”

“Just answer your door on Saturday morning.” Andrew let his own

temper flare. It felt good. It felt righteous. He’d put up with his dad’s
crap, given up work time, put his life—his lover—on hold. “I’m not
knocking twice.”

Chapter Fourteen

Before Andrew got into the shower, he plugged in his phone.

Stupidly, he’d forgotten his charger when he’d gone to his father’s place,
so he’d run out of battery sometime on Tuesday, and his phone had lain
in his pocket dormant. He’d known a replacement charger was only a gas
station or a phone store away. Hell, he could have gotten one at the
grocery store where he’d picked up all those deli meals, but he hadn’t.

Andrew forced himself to admit he’d gone offline on purpose. He

hadn’t checked his phone messages. Hadn’t read e-mails. At some point
he’d noticed his phone had stopped ringing, but by then he’d been sucked
so far into the nightmare that was his father’s house, he’d stopped caring
what was going on in the outside world.

The work was…too hard. He and his father had argued over every

single item Andrew laid his hands on. The arguments were wearing.
They were futile.

Andrew felt like he’d supped with the fairies—like time outside

stood still. Yet now, when he looked at all the missed messages on his
phone, when he realized he’d ignored people who cared about him, his
heart contracted with fear.

Reese Daley was old and stubborn. He was lonely, and yet he’d cut

himself off from family and friends. He’d filled the void in his life with
things and turned his back on the outside world.

Andrew had gotten so caught up in Reese’s drama he’d done the

same thing.

He glanced at his phone again and found his mailbox was full.
How could Andrew explain his situation to someone like Eddie—

someone who had a healthy family?

How could he tell Eddie that once he’d gotten under his father’s

roof, he’d been drawn into his madness? That he’d fallen into that fatal
role: the agreeable child.

He’d been unwilling to unmask his father, unwilling to tear away the

veil that stood between his father and the world. But he’d been unwilling
to expose the true crazy, even to himself. Andrew had tried to help, but
as always he’d made no headway. He’d exhausted himself and fallen
into dreamless sleep and awoken to another day of the same thing.

Andrew called Eddie’s phone and wasn’t surprised when Eddie

answered right away.

“Eddie Vasquez.”
Shit. No hello. No segue into light conversation. Eddie’s voice

sounded uncertain, and Andrew knew he’d put that wary edge there.
“Eddie? It’s me.”

“I’ve got caller ID.”
Uh-oh. “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”
“I figured you had a good reason.” The voice held a small amount of

warmth. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are we still on for tonight?”
“Sure.” Eddie’s response seemed quick enough. Maybe he wasn’t

too mad. “Where?”

“What about that microbrewery on Brea Boulevard? I’ve never

been there, but I have friends who recommend it.”

“Sure. What time?”
“What time is good for you?”
“I’m finishing up with something here, and I need to go home and

change. How about…seven?”

“Great, I’ll see you there.”
“See you.” Eddie hung up.
That was good anyway. Eddie was keeping their date. Andrew had

no idea how he was going to tell Eddie it didn’t look like he’d have
much free time in the near future—not without it sounding like he was
blowing Eddie off.

There was always the truth.
He could tell Eddie his deepest, most painful secret.
Andrew chewed his lip thoughtfully. Reese was going to hate

anyone Andrew brought in to help. He was going to feel persecuted and
shamed and thoroughly judged by anyone who saw how he lived, and
Andrew wasn’t sure he wanted his father and Eddie to start off that way.

Eddie Vasquez was a keeper, and it was too soon to dump all the

Daley family garbage, literally, on the man.

On the other hand, he had to start as he meant to go on, and he

couldn’t lie to Eddie even by omission.

Maybe that was why, when given the choice to pick up a charger or

let his phone just…go, Andrew had taken the easiest course. He’d
wanted to buy himself time. Only now, he knew he had a decision to
make, and he still wasn’t at all sure what he should do.

* * * *

“Were you just making a date?” Mrs. Henderson asked. Her smile

was knowing and pretty, as if she’d guessed his secret and now she got
to gloat over it. “What must Eddie Vasquez’s girlfriend be like, I
wonder.”

“I…uh…” Eddie felt a blush heat his face.
“She’s a very lucky girl, whoever she is.”
Eddie shook his head. He’d visited his old teacher three times since

she’d been in the hospital, and every time she seemed different. Once,
she’d asked him if he knew how she’d come to be there and whether Phil
would be coming to get her soon. Once she’d been too tired to talk.
Today appeared to be a good day. She knew who he was and that Phil
was gone.

“It’s not a girl.” Eddie palmed his phone and passed it from hand to

hand nervously. “I’m seeing Mr. Daley. The teacher who found you?”

Her eyes widened. “Eddie Vasquez, as I live and breathe.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to say more. His heart

raced. If she had a problem with him being gay…he didn’t know what
he’d do. Maybe he should have played his private life a little closer to
the vest.

“You’re a friend of Dorothy.”
“I…guess I am.” A friend of Dorothy? That made him laugh

considering Dorothy was her name. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“I beg your pardon.” She literally smacked his arm. “Of course not.

I’m just surprised. I figured you for a true ladies’ man. I expected you to
have kids already.”

“My brothers and sister had to take up the family standard and carry

it into the next generation.”

“No reason you can’t have a family with a man these days, Eddie.”
“I want kids. I just have to find the right guy. That’s harder than it

looks.”

“You’re telling me? I was over thirty when I finally met Phil.”

Sadness clouded her eyes. “We were lucky, but not as far as fertility
goes.”

“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Didn’t you ever see Good-bye, Mr. Chips? I have

hundreds of children. All kinds,” she paraphrased.

“I did see that movie,” Eddie admitted. “I’m not ashamed to say I

cried like a baby at the end.”

“So. You’re dating a teacher.”
“Yep.”
“Good choice.” She preened like it was a personal compliment.
He laughed at that.
“And you have a date tonight, so what are you doing here talking to

an old lady like me? You should be getting ready.”

“I don’t know…”
“What’s wrong?” Eyes as shrewd as he remembered squinted at

him.

“It’s early days yet. You don’t always know where you stand with

someone in the beginning.”

She wagged her finger at him. “You mark my words. Sooner or later

he’ll figure out how lucky he is to be with a wonderful man like you.”

“Nah.” Eddie waved that away.
“I mean it. Just look at you. You rescue old ladies. And you’re such

a snazzy dresser. My Phil only dressed up for special occasions. When
the schools started casual Friday, it was as if he’d—”

Eddie watched her face fall, and knew exactly what she’d been

about to say. Died and gone to heaven. People did that after they’d
suffered a loss—they realized how often they made morbid statements
without thinking about them.

He changed the subject. “Are you looking forward to leaving here?”
“Yes and no.” She smiled sadly. “I’ll be glad to get out of the

hospital, but I’d rather be going home.”

“You will. Soon, I’m sure of it.” Eddie reached over and clasped

her fragile blue-veined hands in his. “I’ve got to be going, but I have the
address of the new place, and I’ll come visit you there. Is there anything

you think you might like me to bring you? A plant or something to make
the place cheery?”

“I can’t think of anything. Maybe a decent cup of coffee?”
“You’re on.” Eddie made a mental note to ask Bill if coffee was

okay. “I’ll see you then.”

“You’re a good boy. I always thought so.” Her green gaze fell on

him again, assessing. “Tell your young man he’s very lucky in my book.”

“I will, Mrs. H.”
“And remember me to your family. They were a nice bunch, as I

recall.”

Eddie thought he left Mrs. Henderson in fairly good spirits. He

didn’t envy Laurence’s job as trustee. Taking responsibility for
someone’s well-being seemed pretty daunting. Mrs. Henderson was not
a kid who could be coerced by her youth and lack of resources. She was
an adult who was used to commanding respect by virtue of age and
education and status. Eddie’d already had to walk the narrow line
between respect for Mrs. Henderson’s autonomy and the knowledge that
despite her age she might need someone to take over and help her out.

He’d seen his parents’ struggle when his grandmother’s memory

started failing. It was hard. It was heartbreaking.

He wouldn’t trade places with Bill Laurence for anything.

Chapter Fifteen

Andrew got to the restaurant early and waited by the front door. He

spent the few minutes before he saw Eddie drive up trying to rid himself
of the residual aggravation of dealing with his dad. Eddie parked his car
on the street and walked toward him with a shy smile. Andrew’s heart
bounced off his diaphragm and into his throat.

Christ.
He’d seen Eddie dressed up. He was gorgeous. He looked like

some Latino model in his silky suits and crisp shirts. He wore collar
stays and cufflinks, for God’s sake. But tonight Eddie had chosen to go
casual, and an Eddie dressed in jeans…

Andrew bit his lip.
Eddie was positively edible. His legs looked three times as long as

his body—the well-worn denim clung to him from skater-style shoes
upward to caress his package like parentheses. The waistband rode low
on his hips. He wore a wide, weathered leather belt beneath a white T-
shirt and a slim red V-neck pullover that did little to conceal the muscles
covering his arms and torso. He’d pushed his sleeves up to reveal
sinewy forearms and a chunky steel watch.

All man, thought Andrew. All mine.
Andrew’s knees nearly buckled when Eddie’s smile widened and

he leaned in for a quick kiss. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Andrew turned to hide his giddy reaction.
Down, boy. Don’t blow your cool completely.
“How are you doing?” Eddie asked. There was something wary in

his eyes.

“I’ll tell you over dinner.” Andrew realized Eddie had probably

heard from Lucy that she’d had a substitute.

“Sure.” Eddie nodded stiffly. He opened the door and let Andrew

go in ahead of him.

The hostess seated them in a small booth with a white tablecloth

and a sparkling tea light.

“I could use a drink.” On Andrew’s agenda for the evening, social

lubricant in the form of a glass of wine or maybe something even

stronger came in at number one.

Eddie leaned back. “Me too.”
It struck Andrew then that he was handling things all wrong—that

Eddie was looking at him as if he was expecting some kind of ax to fall.

Andrew had been so steeped in misery of his own he never even

wondered how his absence—his silence—might have affected Eddie.
Now that they were face-to-face, he didn’t have the words to reassure
him. He just wanted a drink and a chance to forget.

He tried to make a comparison. “At Grime, you do some tough jobs,

don’t you? Stuff that sort of sticks with you?”

“Yeah.” Eddie waited.
“Did they ever leave you feeling like…like you had nothing to say?

Like you wanted to be with someone who gets you and doesn’t need you
to talk for a while?”

“That’s where your head is at?” Eddie asked.
“Yes.” Andrew didn’t offer anything more.
Eddie gave a sharp, short nod in return. “All right.”
Andrew’s body relaxed fractionally. He blew out a deep breath and

fidgeted with the silverware. The waiter came over to take their order,
and Eddie asked what kind of tequilas they served.

“The tequila menu is in the wine binder,” the waiter told him.
“Yes, but I figured you’d know off the top of your head. I want an

anejo. Do you pour aged tequilas?”

“They’re on the list if you’d—”
Eddie held his hand up to stop him. “Ask your bartender to pour me

a shot of his favorite aged tequila. I trust his expertise.”

“Our bartender’s a woman, sir.”
“Crap.” Eddie covered his face with one hand. “My sister would

kill me for making that assumption. Please ask her for her opinion and
bring what she recommends. Sipping tequila, yeah? No limes, no salt.
She’ll know what I’m after.”

“I’ll ask her.” The waiter turned to Andrew. “And for you?”
“I’ll have the same.”
“Can I get you started on any appetizers?”
Again, Andrew’s imagination came up short. He shook his head and

glanced toward Eddie. “What goes with your tequila?”

“Do you like oysters?” Eddie asked.
“Not really, but I’m so hungry I’d probably make a go at them

anyway.” Andrew frowned. “I’m not turning out to be very good
company tonight, am I?”

Eddie shrugged that off and told the waiter to bring a basket of

sweet potato fries.

After the man was out of earshot, Eddie said, “Anyone can have an

off night. If you’re hungry, you should eat something, or the tequila will
hit you too hard. When did you eat last?”

“Lunch, I guess. Noon.”
“So you aren’t likely to lose muscle tone from starvation or

anything,” Eddie teased.

“Au contraire.” Andrew sighed. This he could do. Maybe joking

around would help him get out of his funk. “I have the constitution of a
hummingbird. I need to eat all the time.”

“All right. Help is on the way, if you can just hold on until the fries

come.”

“Thanks. I owe you.”
“I agree.”
Andrew felt Eddie’s probing gaze. “What’s your week been like?”
“We did Mrs. Henderson’s place. I saw her this afternoon. They’re

moving her into a group home temporarily until Bill can get her back to
her place with someone he trusts to look after her.”

“That’s good.” A long silence stretched out between them. “Getting

old must suck.”

“I missed seeing you at school. Is it okay if I say that?”
“What do you mean by okay?”
Eddie flushed. “I don’t want to sound like I’m prying.”
“No.” Andrew gave Eddie’s hand a firm squeeze. “I was at my

dad’s for a few days, and I didn’t have my phone charger. I could have
bought a charger, but I—”

“I probably just misunderstood the situation.” Eddie kept his voice

level, but Andrew heard the hurt he tried to hide.

“No—”

The waiter returned. “The bartender says to tell you, you can’t go

wrong with this. It’s oak-barrel-aged for five years with a peppery bite
and a vanilla and caramel finish. She says if you don’t like it, she’ll
come over here and drink it herself.” The waiter placed two shots on the
table. “I’ll be right back with your sweet potato fries. Have you decided
on dinner?”

Eddie glanced around. Andrew had the impression Eddie was

avoiding the waiter’s gaze. “How do you prepare the salmon?”

“It’s given a brown-sugar glaze and then broiled on a cedar plank

and topped with—”

“I’d like salmon, but can I get it grilled plain? Can you do that?”

Eddie didn’t wait for the answer. “I’ll take a baked potato with that and
whatever steamed vegetables you have.”

The waiter blinked at him. “I’ll see if we can do that. Would you

care for soup or a salad? New England clam chowder or gumbo? Or a
—”

“No, thank you.”
The waiter turned to Andrew, who realized Eddie had never even

opened the menu. He picked up both menus and handed them back. “I’ll
have the same.”

“All right. Is there anything else? Can I get you a bowl of chowder

or gumbo or a blue cheese wedge salad?” Andrew shook his head, and
the waiter gave up. “I’ll go put your order in, then. Let me know if you
need anything else. I’m Tim, by the way.”

“Thanks, Tim.” Eddie gave him a brief smile.
Andrew asked, “I guess you come here a lot?”
“No. Why?”
“You never even looked at the menu. I thought you must eat here all

the time.”

“I’ve never been here before.” Eddie watched the waiter cross the

dining room. “But I always order the same thing in places like this. I get
salmon or steak and a baked potato. Veggies, because I like to imagine
this is all good for me.”

“What do you do if they don’t have salmon?”
“It’s a steakhouse. What steakhouse doesn’t have salmon?”

“I think you just like to give waiters fits.”
“And I think waiters should know what kind of tequilas they serve,

and that not everyone likes to order straight off the menu.”

Andrew picked up his tequila and studied Eddie through the amber

liquid. “What do I need to know about this drink?”

“You know how you always see people shoot tequila in the

movies?”

Andrew nodded.
“You do not do that with this,” he said firmly. “This is for sipping

slowly, just like brandy and cognac.”

“Yeah?” Andrew took a tiny sip. “Oh, wow. Medicinal.”
“Give it a minute.” Eddie took a sip of his. “Taste the oak?”
“Oak?” Andrew smacked his lips. “All I taste is alcohol. To be

honest, I’m not really that fond of tequila.”

“Next sip, let it roll around on your tongue a little. Maybe it’s an

acquired taste.”

Andrew took a bigger sip and wound up gasping for air after he

choked it down. “I guess maybe it is.”

Eddie laughed. “Sorry.”
“You enjoy drinking this? Really? It’s not just a test of manhood?”
Eddie put his hands up as if in defeat. “Order something else. I

promise I won’t be offended.”

“Maybe it will grow on me.”
“Maybe you should get a strawberry daiquiri.”
“That’s low. You want to buy me a drink with training wheels?”
“If you’re drinking for a good buzz, and you don’t want anything

more complex…”

Andrew let that go past without comment.
“Maybe if I knew what you’re looking for, I could make a better

suggestion.”

“I’ve had a seriously craptastic week. I was looking forward to

loosening up. But that”—he pointed to the amber liquid in his shot glass
—“is going to melt my flesh.”

“No problem.” Eddie reached over and took Andrew’s tequila

away. “What do you like drinking? Order that.”

“I don’t mean to rain all over your tequila parade.”
Eddie glanced at the diners in the booth next to theirs. “Don’t worry

about it. More for me.”

“Do you really like it?”
“I do. Tequila is a big deal with my dad and my uncles. And

cigars.”

“Really?” Andrew thought of his own father and felt irritated all

over again.

“My dad loves all that old-school man shit like Cigar Aficionado

magazine and shaving with a straight razor. He sees it as a mark of
sophistication. He’s compensating, maybe. He was the first in his family
to get a college degree. That’s a source of pride with him. He put us all
through college.” Almost all.

“He should be proud,” Andrew said gently. “My dad grew up poor

and went to college. He earned graduate degrees. It’s no small thing.”

“The old guys in my family like to sit on the patio at night.” Eddie

smiled at the memory. “They drink and smoke and argue about shit.
When I was a teenager, they’d let me sneak a cigar or some tequila, and
my mom would have a fit.”

“Sounds like fun though.”
“They relax and tell stories that get more fantastic every year. My

dad likes to offer his brothers and uncles the best of everything, so he
reads up on the Internet and they all argue the merits of a reposado over
an anejo or whatever. Tequila is about pride and tradition—not just
doing body shots for a rush.”

“Like you ever did that.”
Eddie’s eyebrow shot up. “Dude, I worked in a strip club.”
Andrew had to hide his reaction to that when Tim came back with

their sweet potato fries and a rémoulade sauce for dipping. Andrew
asked for a glass of white wine.

“I’ll get that right away, sir.”
When he came back, Andrew took a big sip of the crisp, dry wine

and sighed with relief.

“Guess that hits the spot,” Eddie remarked.
“It does, thank you.” Andrew’s belly warmed, and he started to

unwind. “It’s refreshing rather than scorching.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie smiled and sipped his own drink. They both

reached for the same sweet potato fry and smiled awkwardly at each
other. The fries were perfect: sweet, crunchy, sticky, and salty. As they
ate, Andrew finished his first glass of wine and asked the waiter to bring
a second.

They were still sitting like that, companionably silent, when the

waiter came back with their food.

“Here you go, grilled salmon, baked potato, and steamed veg.

Please let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.”

“Will do.” Eddie nodded, and Tim left them to their meal. Andrew

took a bite of his salmon and groaned with delight. The fish was
seasoned simply and had golden-brown grill marks. His potato was rich
and shamelessly buttery. The vegetables perfectly tender. He was going
to let Eddie order for him more often if this was any indicator of the type
of meal he liked.

Andrew fell on his food like a starving man. He glanced up when he

realized he’d paid no attention to his date for far too long. Eddie was
watching him eat.

“It’s okay?” Eddie asked.
“Delicious.” Andrew brought his napkin to his lips. Eddie’d eaten

about half his food, but Andrew was nearly done. He felt his cheeks go
hot. “God, what a hound. I guess I eat fast.”

“You’re enjoying your food. There’s no shame in that.”
Yes, I feel shame, Andrew thought. Shame for keeping you off

balance all night when you’ve been so nice. “You want to know
something?”

“What’s that?” Eddie tilted his head to the side.
God, he’s handsome.
“If you didn’t answer my messages or return my calls—if you asked

me to dinner and said nothing about why you disappeared—I’d be angry
or hurt.”

“Did you want me to be angry?” Eddie’s uncertain brown gaze

lifted to Andrew’s. “Is that what you need?”

“No.” Andrew’s eyes stung at the simple question. What I need?

“If things are moving too fast, just say so.” Eddie folded his hands

and waited. “Even if you don’t feel like talking. Let me know where I
stand.”

“Is that what you think? That I’m trying to back away from you?

That I’d blow off your calls rather than tell you to your face things
weren’t…that I—”

“Well? Are you? We went from zero to fuck city in like…five-

point-three seconds. I’d understand if things went too fast for you. If you
want to back up, go slower, think things over, I’d understand.”

“Oh my God, is that what you thought?” Andrew pushed his plate

away. “No. I had a family thing. I got there and realized I’d forgotten my
phone charger. I didn’t bother buying a spare. I just… I couldn’t talk
about it to anyone.” Andrew decided that was as much as he could say.

Eddie nodded after a while. “If you say it wasn’t personal, I believe

you.”

“Thank you.”
“I hope you know, I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“Then enough said.”
After another prolonged silence, Andrew spoke. “There aren’t a lot

of people in my life who’d stand by me without asking questions.”

“Maybe there should be.” Eddie finished off his first glass of

tequila.

Andrew’s chest hurt. Actually, his whole body ached. After a few

days at his dad’s place, after emerging back into the real world, he felt
raw. By failing to answer Eddie’s calls and texts, Andrew knew he’d let
him down. Yet there Eddie sat, waiting patiently, offering
companionship and good food, and asking for nothing in return.

Eddie’s kindness astounded Andrew. At the most basic level, Eddie

offered an uncomplicated refuge. At the most profound, his behavior was
a breathtaking leap of faith.

Eddie raised his second shot in a toast. “Salud.”
Andrew lifted his wineglass automatically. “Amor y pesetas y

tiempo para disfrutarlos.”

“Ah, listen to you. You speak Spanish? My mom is going to eat you

up like a cupcake.”

“Is that good?”
Eddie laughed. “Yes. That’s good.”
Andrew gazed into Eddie’s eyes for a long time. If there was

anyone in the world he could trust to confide in about his dad, it would
be Eddie.

“Are you busy on Saturday morning?”
Eddie pulled out his phone. Andrew watched as he glanced over a

multicolored display with shapes in the date boxes. “I’m on the books to
make sales calls, but I think I can get Gabe to switch with me.”

“Here.” Andrew took his phone out. “I’ll text you with an address.

Can you meet me there?”

“Yeah. What is it?”
Andrew hesitated. “I’ll explain on Saturday.”
Eddie seemed to accept that. “Fair enough.”
“Thanks.” Andrew sighed, relieved he didn’t have to say more just

then. “In the meantime, I wish I knew how that tequila tasted on your
lips.”

Eddie shot the dregs of his second drink even though he’d told

Andrew not to. “Only one way to find out.”

Chapter Sixteen

Eddie kept Andrew’s headlights in his rearview mirror on the short

drive back to his house. Thank God for food and the time they’d spent
eating it, or neither of them would have been fit to drive. Eddie pulled
into his garage, and Andrew parked behind him.

The scent of jasmine and barbecue smoke lingered on the air. He

could hear his neighbor’s television playing some action film too loud—
machine-gun fire and the whop-whop roar of a helicopter from his open
window, a shocking staccato that burst the bubble over an otherwise
quiet evening.

Eddie had just emerged from the shadowed garage interior and was

keying the code to close the door when Andrew took a running leap and
jumped on his back, making the breath rush from his lungs. He lost his
bearings as he tried to stay upright, automatically catching Andrew’s
legs piggyback style as Andrew’s arms came around his neck.

“Oh my God.” Andrew’s lips caressed the skin below Eddie’s ear.

He huffed a laugh that raised the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck. “You
smell delicious.”

“Yeah?” Eddie galloped around as they neared the back porch,

giving Andrew a bouncy little ride. “Do you like this? Think you can
hang on while I unlock the door?”

“You just try to get rid of me.” Andrew clung like a limpet up all

three steps, his hands dropping to cop a feel of Eddie’s chest while
Eddie keyed the lock and opened the door.

“Down you go,” Eddie ordered so he could turn off the alarm

system. He turned to find Andrew staring at him, a happy, slightly leering
smile on his face. Eddie toed off his shoes, and Andrew did likewise
before they walked to the kitchen in stocking feet. “Come here.”

Andrew walked over, unhurried.
“May I pick you up?” Eddie indicated he wanted to lift Andrew up

onto the counter. Andrew nodded, and Eddie accomplished the thing in
one smooth move. Eye to eye, he cupped Andrew’s face between his
palms and brought him in for a kiss. Andrew gripped his shoulders and
opened for him, moving closer, as if he was still starving and Eddie was
the only food for miles.

“Ah, God.” Andrew raised his chin when Eddie drew back to catch

his breath. “You make my head spin.”

Eddie pressed kisses down to the base of Andrew’s throat while he

worked to undo the buttons of his shirt. Andrew tugged the fabric of
Eddie’s T-shirt and sweater up to pull them off over his head.

“Wait.” Eddie struggled free. The heavy St. Christopher pendant he

wore around his neck fell to his chest with a thud. Andrew picked it up
to examine it.

“’Behold St. Christopher,’” he read, “’and go your way in safety.’

That’s nice.”

“A gift from my mom.”
“Graduation?”
“Nope. She gave it to me when I came out. She told me I’d better

heed those words, glove up, and stay clean. I never take it off.”

Andrew laughed. “That’s one way to bypass a safe-sex lecture.”
“My mother leaves nothing to chance.”
“She must be something.” Andrew let Eddie’s shirt fall to the floor

with no fanfare, and then they were skin to skin, warm and slightly
sweaty. Andrew raked his fingers lightly over Eddie’s nipples, causing
him to let out a low moan.

Eddie leaned into Andrew’s touch. “I like that.”
“What else do you like?” Andrew asked breathlessly.
“I like this.” Eddie unbuckled Andrew’s belt and started on his

zipper. “I want to suck it. I want to carry you down the hall and throw
you on the bed and have my way with you.”

“Okay, wow. You make a very valid argument. I won’t stop you.

This time.”

Eddie let Andrew shove his jeans to the floor, but instead of putting

him back down, he hoisted Andrew over his shoulder. Eddie carried his
happily chortling lover to his bedroom and threw him down on the bed
with a satisfying whump.

Andrew removed his socks before he scrambled up to the pillows

to lie perfectly, beautifully naked in the center of Eddie’s bed.

“Much better.” Eddie settled between his legs. Andrew’s cock

bounced against his belly with every move he made, and Eddie had to

adjust his own dick in his jeans to accommodate his reaction to seeing
Andrew bare and rosy with arousal.

Slowly, Eddie ran his fingers over the tops of Andrew’s thighs.

Energy practically crackled in the downy-soft hair he found there.
Andrew’s muscles trembled. Eddie cupped Andrew’s ball sac,
stretching it gently as he teased the sensitive strip of skin behind it with
the tips of his fingers.

Andrew hissed his response, shifting beneath Eddie’s touch. Eddie

leaned down to press smiling kisses on the root of Andrew’s cock, going
slow and easy. Savoring as he plied his tongue all along the length to the
tip and back down again.

“Eddie.” Andrew arched under Eddie’s lips, punching his hips

uselessly into the air, asking for more.

“What do you want?”
“Suck me,” Andrew moaned. “Suck me; suck me.”
Eddie licked up the long column of Andrew’s dick, memorizing the

earthy flavor and scent of his skin. Andrew’s fingers dug through Eddie’s
hair, a firm tug that went right to his dick. At the first touch of his tongue
on the hot, flushed head of Andrew’s cock, he hummed his approval, and
Andrew’s hips shot up again.

“Eddie!”
“Keep your hair on.” Eddie opened his mouth and took him in,

loving the bright, fresh wash of salty fluid on his tongue. He wrapped his
hand around the base of the alabaster length, jacking it twice and dipping
his head down to take Andrew deeper.

“Ah, God.” Andrew arched. “More.”
Eddie bobbed his head slowly, tightening his lips and using kitten

flicks of his tongue to drive Andrew wild with need. He dived down,
allowing Andrew as far into his throat as he could, and swallowed,
giving Andrew the most intimate caress he knew how to give.

“Oh yeah. That’s it.” Andrew lifted onto his elbows and let his head

fall back. He was pure sex like that, the long column of his throat
exposed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gave up a gasp and another
moan. Eddie smiled around Andrew’s cock and fingered the slightly
wrinkled pucker of his hole.

“Thish o’ay?” he asked.

“God, yes.” Andrew let his legs fall farther apart. Eddie pressed his

finger in half an inch, testing Andrew’s reaction. A shudder racked
through Andrew’s whole body. “Christ, do that again.”

Eddie swallowed around Andrew’s cock, and as he did it, he

plunged the tip of his finger into Andrew’s hole. The bed shuddered as if
an earthquake shook it. He got a fresh burst of flavor on his tongue. That
answered one question—Andrew wasn’t strictly a hands-off-my-ass top.

Eddie pulled off long enough to ask, “Do you want my cock?”
“Yes…God, fuck me.”
Eddie let go of Andrew’s cock and crawled across the bed to reach

for condoms and lube from the nightstand. When he turned around,
Andrew tackled him, nearly knocking the breath from his lungs, pushing
him over and straddling him.

“God, you’re perfect.”
Eddie lay flat on his back looking up at Andrew, whose happy

expression was playful and yet predatory at the same time. “I’m hardly
perfect.”

“You’re perfect for me.” Andrew bent over him, cupping his face,

offering happy kisses and dirty kisses and kisses that drugged Eddie’s
senses completely.

Andrew rained kisses over Eddie’s neck and shoulders, down to his

chest. He ran the flat of his hands over Eddie’s pecs and thumbed his
nipples into taut brown buds. “You’re beautiful.”

Eddie shook his head, embarrassed. “Shut up.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure.”
“I have a thing for big men.”
“Not really a secret, papi,” Eddie teased.
“I couldn’t breathe the first time I saw you.”
“That was mutual, if you want to know the truth.”
“A big, handsome man like you… That’s like waving a red flag at a

bull with me. I pictured fucking you through the floor.”

Andrew squeezed Eddie’s biceps, and Eddie flexed back, fighting

his hold a little. Andrew’s pupils darkened, and he took a deep breath.

“Grab the headboard.” Andrew showed Eddie what he meant by

hooking Eddie’s fingers over the top of his plain sleigh-style bed. “And
keep your hands right there.”

Eddie adjusted his body so he was comfortable with his hands up.

“You really do have a control kink, don’t you?”

“I do.” Andrew eyed him warily. “Is that going to be a problem?”
Eddie’s mouth was so dry he couldn’t speak. He shook his head no.
“I top.” Andrew peered down at him, daring him to argue the point.
“Okay,” Eddie croaked.
“And I love being fucked, but only on my terms.”
“That seems”—Eddie cleared his throat—“fair.”
Andrew leaned over and kissed Eddie’s nose and then both his

eyelids. “You want that, don’t you? You want to be my fuck toy.”

Eddie glanced away but answered truthfully, “Yes, I do.”
Andrew kissed him again, this time so gently Eddie’s eyes burned.

Their gazes locked. “Between us, here, in private. There’s nothing to be
ashamed of. Ever.”

“I understand.” Eddie’s desire to submit wasn’t a one-time deal.

Thinking back, he’d probably disappointed a lot of men who expected to
be dominated in bed—men who had made assumptions based on his size
and strength. Men who hoped Eddie would give them what they needed,
and ended up walking away unsatisfied.

Andrew had tapped into something very private in Eddie’s nature.

Eddie was dying to let go.

Andrew spread his hands over Eddie’s cock and balls, massaging

him through the denim fabric of his jeans. “First we need to get you out
of these.”

When Eddie would have taken his hands from the headboard to help

Andrew undress him, Andrew issued a sharply worded order for Eddie
to keep his hands where he’d put them.

“Bossy.”
“You love it.”
Eddie bit his lip. Maybe I do love it. His thoughts raced: I should

be angry, insulted, offended, unmanned. But instead…I’m at peace.

Andrew unbuckled Eddie’s belt and unzipped his jeans. He pulled

them off Eddie’s legs, taking his shorts and socks with them, discarding

them all in a heap on the floor.

Eddie’s cock sprang up from a thatch of curly pubic hair, dark and

desperate.

“Oh, much better.” Andrew wrapped Eddie’s cock in his fist and

jacked him a couple of times. He didn’t take his eyes off Eddie’s as he
sank down onto all fours and nuzzled Eddie’s cock like a cat playing
with its prey. “Beautiful, beautiful Eddie Vasquez.”

Eddie gave up a choked, embarrassed noise. Whatever he might

have said was cut off by the feel of Andrew’s mouth on him. Hot, wet
suction. Eddie’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he arched into bliss,
gripping the bed frame so tightly he worried he might break the damn
thing. His muscles clenched all over as he surged upward, sinking his
dick into the soft paradise of Andrew’s mouth over and over until
Andrew pulled off, leaving Eddie’s cock cold and damp. He rolled a
condom down Eddie’s length and smoothed it, making Eddie’s blood
hum with anticipation.

Andrew made short work of his own preparations, a quick swipe of

slick, and then he was looming over Eddie, hovering, sinking down
Eddie’s cock with piercing sweetness even as his ass clenched and
fought the intrusion.

“Ah.” Andrew froze, hips shifting minutely as he pressed down.

“God.”

“You’re so tight,” Eddie hissed.
“You’re not small, and I’m fucking picky.” Andrew’s body fought…

and fought…and then gave in just a little. With a grunt, Andrew sank
farther, leaning in for a kiss as he took Eddie deeper. “Not. Small.”

Eddie shifted his hips, testing. Getting comfortable. Andrew’s ass

was hot, clenching torture. He wanted more. He wanted to move. He
started to reach for Andrew’s hips. “Christ. I need—”

“Keep your hands on the headboard.”
Eddie ground his teeth and put his hands up again as Andrew arched

and rocked experimentally.

“Yeah…like that,” Eddie sighed.
Andrew put the flats of his hands on Eddie’s chest. He rose and

sank again, eyes closed.

“Yeah, papi.” Eddie bit back a curse. “That’s what I need. Ride

me.”

Andrew was flexible enough to bite one of Eddie’s nipples

playfully.

Eddie lifted his hips again. Andrew came down hard and ground his

ass on Eddie’s thighs, taking all of Eddie’s cock, trapping him there. He
smoothed his hands over Eddie’s chest, circled his nipples, and then
pinched them lightly.

“Don’t forget who’s got the reins, horsey.”
“Ah, yeah.” Eddie closed his eyes. Andrew’s mouth closed over his

skin again, first one nipple and then the other. Andrew worked his way
toward Eddie’s neck, nipping his skin, sucking hard enough to bring up a
mark. “Yeah. Like that.”

Andrew set up a rhythm, then a hard, pounding ride that sent Eddie’s

heart rate galloping along with him. Eddie lost all sense of time as he
drowned in sensation. He raised his knees to brace himself, digging in to
get traction with his toes.

The hum that began in his blood started singing in his spine, at the

base of his cock, in his balls and oh, yeah, his prostate when Andrew’s
dick slid slickly by on its way to his goddamn heart.

“I’m close,” Eddie gasped. Sweat soaked his hairline, his balls felt

ready to burst, and his hands clenched convulsively where he’d kept a
tight hold on the headboard per Andrew’s command. “I’m so goddamn
close.”

Eddie watched Andrew rise and fall, watched him take those last,

deep thrusts. Andrew gripped his dick, stripping it ferociously, face
already contorted in ecstasy. He was…amazing.

Ah, God. Look at him.
The hot, musky odor of their combined sweat, the look of

pleasure/pain on Andrew’s face, the needy little gasps he gave when his
release grew imminent—all of that boiled up in a rush of passion Eddie
had never experienced before. Andrew convulsed around Eddie’s cock,
pulling spasming waves of pleasure like electric shocks from deep
within his guts.

“That’s it, papi,” Eddie cried out. “Oh God yeah.”
Eddie’s whole body tensed with pleasure while ribbons of

Andrew’s cum spattered his chest, his chin, and his face. Droplets fell on

his lips, and he drank them in like bittersweet rain. Eddie’s cock felt
twisted and spent. Andrew’s shivers made its softening length slide
around inside the condom, warm and slick with jiz.

Perfect…perfect.
Andrew’s upper body draped over Eddie’s while they were still

joined. He huffed exhaustedly. “Baby.”

“Baby?” Eddie smiled at that. He nudged up with his hips. “I feel

like a baby to you?”

“Baby buffalo.” Andrew gave Eddie’s biceps another hard squeeze.

“Baby bull. Baby—”

“Manatee,” Eddie supplied.
“Shut up.” Andrew cuffed his arm. “God, you’re so fucking

gorgeous.”

“So are you. Señor Toppy Pantalones.” Eddie snorted an

embarrassed laugh. “I used to know a stripper who called herself
Streusel Topping.”

“Gorgeous.” Andrew peered down at him. “But crap at afterglow.”
Eddie opened his eyes. “What do you need?”
Andrew reached between them to pull himself off Eddie’s softening

cock. He threw the spent condom over the side of the bed. “Put your
arms around me.”

“You never said I could move my hands.”
Andrew’s brows shot up. He gave Eddie a lopsided, happy little

smile. “Oh, you are perfect, aren’t you?”

“That’s what I keep saying.”
After Andrew gently took Eddie’s hands off the bed frame, he lay

back down and pulled Eddie’s arms around him. Eddie curled around
Andrew, watching while traffic moved past on the street, casting waves
of moving light through the blinds.

Eddie held him close and felt around for Andrew’s feet with his. He

massaged the backs of Andrew’s calves with his toes. “This more what
you had in mind?”

Andrew answered with a delicate snuffle. Eddie tilted his head to

get a good look at Andrew’s face.

He smiled into the fragile light.

Andrew was already asleep.

Chapter Seventeen

On Saturday morning, Eddie found Andrew’s compact parked in

front of a typical suburban fake Tudor two-story. For the first time since
they’d agreed to meet there, Eddie acknowledged he was apprehensive.
Andrew stood on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, looking up at the
house. He was dressed in a pair of paint-spattered jeans and a UCI
hoodie.

Andrew looked like he was bracing himself for something

unpleasant.

Something about the situation felt…funny to Eddie. It felt not right.

The atmosphere reminded Eddie of his job—of arriving at the scene of
an unexpected death. It reminded him of aftermath.

He got his travel mug of coffee and picked up his backpack from the

passenger seat. He’d packed himself a change of clothing because he’d
believed Andrew was inviting him on an impromptu camping trip or…
something else. Something not this.

Up and down the street, people peered at them from behind window

blinds. That’s what clinched his sense of unease. People seemed to be
watching. Waiting.

“What’s up?” Eddie asked.
“I—” Andrew turned as if he hadn’t heard him drive up. He tilted

his head to peer at the house next door and called out, “Hey. Nosy
much?”

When Eddie followed Andrew’s gaze, the neighbor’s curtains

twitched closed. “Can you tell me what we’re doing here?”

Andrew toed the ground. “I’m waiting for someone.”
“Someone who’s not me?”
“Someone besides you. I’m supposed to meet her here. She called

and said she’d be a few minutes late.”

“She?”
“A doctor.” Andrew pushed his mop of hair away from his face. “A

psychiatrist.”

“Okay.” Eddie leaned against the fender of Andrew’s car. “But isn’t

it little early for couples therapy?”

He’d meant that as a lighthearted joke, but it was plain Andrew

didn’t take it that way. “Actually, after you get a load of this, you might
think we’re beyond help.”

Eddie’s chest tightened at his words. “It’s time you told me what

this is all about.”

“I’m getting to that.” Andrew took his hand from his pocket to steal

Eddie’s travel mug. He took a deep swallow of coffee and sputtered,
probably because it was still extremely hot. “This isn’t easy for me.”

Eddie nodded. He waited.
“This is my father’s house.”
Ah. “I see.”
“He—” Andrew swallowed. “He’s got problems with the neighbors

because he has trouble letting things go, and now the city is involved. I
was here this week for a few days, trying to help him organize, but it was
a total washout. Today I’m bringing in reinforcements.”

“I’m sorry. That must be tough.” Eddie was ashamed by a brief

flash of relief. Andrew wasn’t mad at him or—

“It is.” Andrew gripped the cup with both hands. “I can’t seem to

get through to him. His house is at stake. They’re coming back with a
warrant to search the place if he doesn’t clean the yard. They’ll red tag it
if they see the inside.”

“Your father has an immediate problem,” Eddie summed it up. “And

you’re trying to help him. What does he say about that?”

“He doesn’t want my help. He’s adamant that he doesn’t have a

problem. It’s everyone else’s problem: prying neighbors, interfering
bureaucrats, meddling kids.” Andrew shook his head. “Like Scooby
Doo… My dad’s the weird neighbor guy yelling, ‘Get off my lawn.’
He’s the guy with trash packed up to the ceiling. He would have gotten
away with it if it wasn’t for those meddling kids.”

Eddie’s concern was for Andrew. “You’re tired.”
“I haven’t been sleeping too well.”
“So you’ve asked for professional help?”
“Yes. He has to accept help or move.”
“I see.”
“No…you don’t see. You can’t possibly see.” Andrew handed his

coffee back. “You can’t even begin to imagine, because it’s
unimaginable. It’s—”

“I’ve worked with hoarders before, Andrew,” Eddie said gently.

“Several of them.”

“Wait.” Andrew turned to him, surprise written in his expression. “I

thought you cleaned up crime scenes. Biohazardous waste removal. I
thought—”

“I guess you never Googled our Web site.”
“No.” Andrew’s brows drew together. “I didn’t. You clean up

places like this? People with…problems…like my dad’s?”

Eddie heard the shame in Andrew’s words, and he wanted to

reassure him. “Yes. We’re usually called in when the person is found to
be deceased, although we’ve done a couple houses in connection with a
personal organizer friend of Gabe’s.”

Andrew scrubbed his face with the heels of his hands, effectively

hiding his expression from Eddie. “It’s disgusting, isn’t it? It’s
repulsive.”

Eddie shrugged. “It’s difficult. But it’s an illness.”
“I spent all day yesterday worrying if I should share this with you. I

almost called you to say forget it fifty times. I don’t want you to see this.
I don’t want you to know this about me.”

“It’s your dad’s house. It’s not about you. The city has given him a

deadline?”

“Yes. And he just…he’s been dragging his feet, and now it may be

too late.”

“Has he always been this way?” What had Andrew’s childhood

been like? Eddie’s mom wasn’t Martha Stewart, but he’d always come
home to a tidy house. He was allowed to bring his friends over.

“Ever since my mother passed.”
In Eddie’s experience, there was usually something specific that

made people lose control of their lives like that. “That was when you
were a kid?”

“Yeah. Things were never neat after that, but four years ago my

dad’s bookstore went under, and since then he hasn’t bounced back. He
was never really that worried about organizing things except at the store,
but…God.” Andrew glanced at the house. “I come from this place. I

could…I could become this.”

“That’s not a given, Andrew.”
“I could.” Andrew sliced the air impatiently with his hand. “All it

takes is that emotional banana peel: one bad professional setback, one
personal tragedy, one bout of depression, and it could be me. I may not
have Googled the Brothers Grime, but I did look up hoarding. It runs in
families like eye color. It’s part of the whole OCD package, which I
have some experience with, and—”

“Settle down.” Eddie caught Andrew’s hands in his. They felt cold

to him, so he chafed them to warm them up. “Relax.”

“Don’t you see? I’m showing you this knowing you ought to run.

You should look at my dad’s house and flee because that could be my
future.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. Deep down, you know that. If you’re

worried, then you need to address it with the shrink you called for your
dad. This isn’t inevitable.”

“It’s so awful.” Andrew pulled his hands away. “Maybe you should

go. The doctor is an expert. I got her name from the county Web site.
Apparently there are a lot of resources. Maybe we can handle this by
ourselves after all.”

“I should let Gabe know about that Web site. He would probably

kill to put Grime on whatever lists they have.”

“I hate this. I don’t know if I can stand for you to see it.”
“Then why did you ask me to come here?”
“Because—” Andrew hung his head, laughing sadly. “Because I

want to believe in magic. Because if there’s anyone in the world I’d go
out on this kind of emotional limb for, anyone to whom I’d reveal the
worst I have to offer with my fingers crossed that it isn’t a fucking deal
breaker—it’s you.”

“Aw, come here, papi. This isn’t a deal breaker.” Eddie pulled

Andrew into his arms and rocked him from side to side. “You could
probably start the zombie apocalypse, and it wouldn’t be a deal
breaker.”

“Christ.” Andrew buried his head in Eddie’s shoulder while Eddie

stroked his hair.

“I worked a cat-hoarder house once.” Eddie shivered from the

memory, which was still fresh enough to make his skin crawl. “Not
pleasant. Does your dad have pets?”

“I don’t think so.” Andrew bit back a sob. “Not intentionally,

anyway.”

“Deep breath.”
“Okay. I’ve got this. I’m okay for now, thanks to you.” Andrew

seemed to draw strength from Eddie. “You’re an awfully good man,
Eddie Vasquez.”

“So are you, B. Andrew Daley.” As soon as it was gone, Eddie

missed his contact with Andrew’s skin. He reached for Andrew’s hand
to prolong it, lacing their fingers together, giving Andrew’s hand a
gentle, reassuring squeeze. “You’re smart to bring in a therapist.
Someone who can help your dad make a plan. Why don’t you introduce
me to your father at the same time, and we’ll see what he says.”

“You’re not running off now you know I come with a fuck ton of

crazy?”

“Not yet,” said Eddie. “But I reserve the right to change my mind if

your crazy is completely incompatible with mine. You forget I’m a gay
man from a big Catholic family. Blood matters in my family, and they
stand by me when it counts, but they don’t always put out the welcome
mat. Some of them…they’re old-school.”

“Noted.” Andrew nodded. “But see, that’s what I think we might

have in common. It’s family. You do what you have to do.”

“Exactly.” Eddie watched a big red pickup roar around the corner

and park behind his car. “I’ll help your dad however I can because I
respect that. Family. I’ve got your back, Andrew.”

“You have no clue how glad I am to hear that. Thank you.”

ANDREW HELD EDDIE’S offer of help in his heart like a perfect

memory, filing it away under Good Things even as he watched Dr. Frost
jump down from her truck and bound over to where they were standing.
He guessed she was around fifty, although she gave the appearance of a
much younger woman. She was slim and small in stature, probably no
taller than five-four. She wore khaki pants and a button-down shirt and
one of those fleece vests in a shade of light blue that did nice things for
her eyes. She was tan, fit, and fair with perfectly streaked blonde hair

held back in a swingy ponytail, and happy blue eyes. Just seeing her
made him feel better.

“Hi.” She shoved a leather portfolio under one arm and offered her

hand. “Which one of you is Andrew?”

“I am.” They shook hands. “This is Eddie. Eddie, this is Dr. Frost.”
She turned her attention to Eddie. “Hello, Eddie, you look familiar

to me. Have we met?”

“I don’t think so, Dr.—”
“I’d like you to call me Pam, okay?”
“Sure.” She shook his hand firmly and turned back to Andrew.

“Does your father know we’re coming?”

“Yes.”
“And he realizes the seriousness of the situation.”
Andrew glanced toward his father’s house. “I believe he does, yes.”
“Do you think he’s maybe just stuck? That he’s on tilt and simply

isn’t facing reality?”

“I honestly don’t know what to think.”
“Well. I’d like to talk to him first, if I may, so…” She started up the

pathway. “Let’s go see him and get a feel for what’s what.”

“Thank you.”
They got to the front door and rang the bell. Andrew watched Eddie,

who stood waiting patiently.

Eddie is such a decent guy.
When Andrew’s father didn’t answer the first ring, Dr. Frost—Pam

—shot him a guarded look. Andrew rang again and knocked for good
measure.

Andrew started to sweat after another minute passed. He prayed to

whatever gods were listening that he hadn’t got Dr. Frost and Eddie
there that early on a Saturday morning for nothing.

“Are you sure he’s home?” asked Pam.
“No.” Andrew felt his face grow warm. “I’m not sure about

anything.”

“But you told him you were coming?”
“Yes.” Andrew knocked again, this time louder. He rang two more

times. They all eyed each other some more.

A faint scrabbling sound came from inside the door.
“I hear him,” said Andrew, relieved.
Pam nodded. “Sounds like he’s in there.”
The noise of the deadbolt retracting preceded the inward inching of

the door.

“Dad?” Andrew peered in.
Reese Daley opened the door only as much as it required for him to

squeeze out onto the porch.

“Hello, Mr. Daley.” Dr. Frost held her hand out. “I’m Dr. Frost, but

you can call me Pam. Andrew invited me to come talk to you this
morning.”

“Andrew.” Reese tersely acknowledged his son and left Pam’s hand

hanging in the air until she dropped it. “Pam.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “This is my boyfriend, Eddie. I asked

him here to help. Eddie, this is my father, Reese Daley.”

Eddie held his hand out. “Mr. Daley.”
“Call me Reese.” Reese’s manners hadn’t deserted him entirely.

Reese shook Eddie’s hand and then turned back to Andrew.

“I told you I’d bring the doctor with me. Will you consent to talk to

her?”

“I guess I have to, don’t I?” Reese asked. “That’s what all this is,

isn’t it? An ultimatum?”

“Not exactly,” said Andrew. “I hoped you’d—”
“I talk to your shrink, or you walk away for good. That’s what you

said, right?”

Andrew’s lips tightened.
“It would be in your best interest to talk to me, considering your

current situation.” Pam stepped forward. “I understand you’ve been
given a deadline, so your home could be at stake. Is that correct?”

Reese nodded.
“Is there a place we can go to talk, Reese?” Pam asked.
“You.” He pointed to her. “I don’t want them. Just you.”
Pam frowned. “Why is that exactly? Surely you don’t think we can

accomplish much all by ourselves?”

“My son brought you and his boyfriend here to shame me.”

“I did no such thing,” Andrew argued, outraged. “I’m trying to

help.”

“He thinks if he shames me enough, I’ll have to do what he wants.”

Reese crossed his arms and stood in front of his door, barring the way
in. “I don’t have to do what he wants. I don’t have to do shit. The city
inspector can kiss my ass.”

“Okay. Whoa. It will be fine for us to talk alone,” offered Pam.

“How about you and I talk while they go get a bite of something to eat,
and then we’ll see what we can do. Would that be all right?”

Reese kicked at a piece of broken masonry. “Okay.”
Andrew nodded and started to turn away. Eddie put his hand at the

small of Andrew’s back, steadying him.

“Boston?”
“What?” asked Andrew.
Andrew’s dad reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty.

“Bring back some donuts or something. I don’t have anything in the house
to offer guests.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Andrew refused his cash. “You still have

coffee?”

“Yeah.”
“We’ll bring back food.”
“Thanks, son.” Reese looked so defeated, so fragile in that moment

Andrew’s heart ruptured with sympathy for him.

“See you in a bit.” Andrew put his hand on his father’s shoulder.

His father felt old to him. Smaller somehow. When did that happen?
“We’ll get through this. We’ll fix this, and then the city inspector can
kiss both our asses. Yeah?”

That got a smile from his old man. “Yeah.”

Chapter Eighteen

Eddie drove Andrew to a nearby restaurant. Over coffee, while they

waited for second breakfast, Eddie asked Andrew if he thought his dad
would get on all right with Dr. Frost.

“I don’t have a clue how my dad’s going to react to anything or

anyone anymore.” Andrew stared into his mug as if he were going to find
an answer there. “He’s so goddamn stubborn. He’s getting older, and he
hates it. He went from having a job he loved to forced retirement, and he
hates that too.”

“He’s too young to retire, isn’t he?”
“He made a boatload of money when he sold the strip mall his

bookstore was on. He doesn’t have to work at all anymore, as long as he
doesn’t spend the nest egg.”

“That’s got to be pretty boring.”
“That’s part of the problem. He’s bored. He gets on the Internet and

buys shit. He’s making the rounds of flea markets and swap meets all the
time. He has this idea he’ll open another store when the economy gets
better.”

“So he thinks of the things he buys as…what? Inventory?”
“I guess.”
Their waiter came over and settled their plates down before them.

Andrew had ordered thick French toast with eggs and ham, and Eddie
got huevos rancheros with roasted potatoes and sliced avocado. Eddie
glanced up to thank the man and then turned back to Andrew.

“So he thinks he’s going to sell the things he’s been collecting

someday.”

“Yeah, but it’s trash.” Andrew surveyed his food but didn’t pick up

his fork. “It’s just old shit. Plus he’s not letting go of garbage anymore
either. I swear to God, he hasn’t thrown out a newspaper, a bottle, or a
can since I moved out. There are actual mounds of garbage, and I can’t
get through to him that it’s unsafe—it’s unsanitary. How come he can’t
see that?”

Eddie shook his head. “We don’t know what your dad sees when he

looks at it. He’s in the grip of an illness. The doctor will help if he’ll let
her. You’re doing the right thing by bringing her on board.”

“I feel sick about it though. I gave him an ultimatum. See her or

we’re through.”

“You were never going to turn your back on him.” Eddie laid his

hand on Andrew’s. “You know that, and I’m sure he knows it.”

“I wish I’d never said it though. He’d never say anything like that to

me.” Andrew gulped a deep breath of air. “Never.”

Eddie scooped up a bite of his eggs. “You can tell him that. He’ll

listen once he doesn’t feel so persecuted.”

“I hope so. I hope he listens to Pam.”
Eddie chewed thoughtfully for a bit. “I’ve worked these kinds of

things. It’s been my experience there’s never a straight line to progress.
You go a few steps forward and a few back. It’s a dance.”

Andrew laughed at that. “You and dancing. Everything’s a dance for

you.”

“I guess it is,” Eddie admitted. “Life is a dance. It takes grace. It

takes balance and perseverance. You have to watch where you are in
relation to other people. You have to forgive yourself if you make a
misstep. If you fall down, you have to find your rhythm and try again.”

Andrew’s smile was wry. “The gospel according to Cha-Cha

Vasquez.”

Eddie shrugged, not certain whether he should be offended. “It’s a

thing. From English class—a metaphor.”

“I know what it is.” Andrew took a bite of his French toast. Chewed

it. “It’s a great metaphor.”

Eddie nodded. He glanced down at his plate to hide his pleasure at

the compliment.

Andrew sighed. “I wish I hadn’t taken those days off last week. In

retrospect, it would have made more sense to see the doctor first, but my
dad wouldn’t hear of it. I think we had to spend some time trying to
organize things by ourselves before either of us realized we couldn’t do
it without help.”

Eddie pulled out his phone and checked Grime’s weekend schedule.

“Whatever ground he gives up, you should probably be prepared to take
and hold. Think of it like a war. Don’t give him a chance to retreat.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Gabe’s friend the organizer told me if someone lets go of anything,

we should be prepared to make it disappear. It’s a good idea to have a
plan in place for where the recyclables will go, where the donated items
will be taken, and to do both those things right away. That way, he can’t
have a change of heart. Things will be much easier if he can’t second-
guess himself.”

“I guess I could call those ‘have junk’ people. I figured I’d get in

touch with one of the big charities to pick up anything we’re donating.”

Eddie debated whether to say anything else, but it must have shown

on his face because Andrew stopped with his coffee mug halfway to his
lips and put it down again.

“What?”
“Am I right that you’re asking for my help?”
“Well. No. I mean, support, yeah.” Andrew frowned. “I didn’t ask

you here because of what you do.”

“But it is what I do.” Eddie shifted uncomfortably. “I do exactly

this, all the time.”

“Okay, but you know, I didn’t really know that, and what you did

back at my dad’s place…the hug. The empathy? That’s why I asked you
here.”

“Then this is your lucky day, because I come with a big-ass bonus.

Trucks. Workers if you need them. Family and friends who might be
persuaded to help if I ask.”

Eddie thumbed Gabe’s contact number. Gabe answered on the

second ring. “Eddie. Whatcha up to?”

“Hey look. I’ve got a thing. If you’re not under the desk with your

head between Dave’s legs, can you text me the number of that guy with
the hauling truck?”

“Hauling? Yeah. Evan. Got it right here. What’s up?”
“I might need it.”
“Yeah? You find us a job?”
“It’s for Andrew’s dad. He’s doing some organizing. I don’t know if

anything is going to come of it, and anyway—” Eddie glanced at
Andrew. “It’s not a job, job. I’m doing it pro bono.”

“You’re what?” Gabe asked at the same time Andrew growled,

“The hell you are.”

Eddie covered the phone with his hand. “Let me talk.”
“I will not. You’re not going do your job without being paid for it.”
“How are you going to stop me?”
“Eddie.” Andrew glared at him.
“I’m talking here; give me a minute.”
Andrew went back to forking up a big bite of French toast. He

shoveled it in his mouth. He even chewed angrily.

“So, Gabe?”
“I’m still here, Romeo.”
“Can you do me a favor and ask around if anyone wants to earn a

little extra cash. We’ve got a pretty light schedule this weekend, right?
It’s possible we could use some bodies. And one of our big trucks,
maybe.”

“Mmbf. Lmnf.” Andrew’s outraged protest came out muffled by

food. “No.”

“Did I say that shit you got for your teacher was incurable?” Gabe

asked. “Goddamn. It’s more like insane.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved that away. “I don’t know about that,

but…he needs our help.”

“All right. I’ve got some free time. I’ll text you Evan’s number and

see who else might be around.”

“Thanks.” Eddie disconnected the call.
“I can’t let you do that.” Andrew was implacable. “My dad has

plenty of money. He can pay you.”

“I can’t take your money. It’s a matter of pride with me. You don’t

fuck with a man’s pride.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s moot right now anyway, so finish your breakfast,

but prepare yourself for a battle. Even if you can’t take money, I can’t
ask the same of your coworkers.” Andrew’s phone rang. “Hello?”

Eddie watched Andrew put his napkin on the table and slide from

the booth. Andrew glanced back at him before taking his call outside.
Through the window, Eddie had a perfect view of Andrew’s
conversation: Andrew talking with his hands, frowning, smiling. The
look of relief—of hope—that crept over his features was unmistakable

and reassuring.

Eddie started in on the rest of his food. Whatever was going on in

Andrew’s mind right now, he had no idea how difficult the day would
become once they got started.

If Andrew’s dad was ready to clean up, it would be like tearing a

bandage off. The quicker they went at it, the better.

Andrew came back in and sat down across from him.
“Okay. Dr. Frost—Pam—got specific permission for us to remove

the recyclables, as long as we’re accountable for recycling them.”

“That’s good, right?”
“Right.” Andrew got busy making notes on his phone. “We also

have permission to remove trash and haul it to the dump, but my dad has
to specify what things can be considered trash. He wants to give us
instructions for other things. He has lists a mile long of what we can and
cannot touch, but…this could be considered progress.”

“Sounds like it.” Eddie hoped it was progress anyway.
“We have to start in the yard and work our way inside. Pam says we

have to show restraint. How am I going to do that? I’m just itching to go
in there with an arsonist.”

“It’s going to be okay, Andrew.”
“Thanks to you and Pam.”
Eddie nodded shyly. “Eat your breakfast. We have a long day ahead

of us.”

They finished their food in near silence and then left the restaurant.

Eddie let Andrew drive so he could make another call to Gabe. It might
have been a mistake though, given how delighted Andrew was behind the
wheel of his car.

“You said you can find me some helpers?” Eddie asked Gabe

without preamble.

“I made some calls. We can get Evan’s truck. What are we looking

at here?”

“Think the Hefflin case, no bodies, no pets,” Eddie replied.
“Wait. Your guy’s dad is—”
“I don’t know much right now.” Eddie had to grab for a handhold

when Andrew took the corner into his father’s neighborhood.

“Oh my God, this is so much fun to drive. It’s a toy!”
“Is that the sexy professor?” Gabe asked.
“Yeah, he’s driving my car.”
“I can’t believe you let someone drive your baby.” Gabe sounded

disgusted. “That shit is off the hook right there.”

“Shut up,” Eddie ordered. “I could just use some help, yeah? We’re

going to need bodies, a couple trucks. Assume gloves and disposable
respirators. Tyvek and real respirators in case we come across black
mold or rat feces—”

“Christ.” Andrew’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Way to harsh

this awesome ride.”

Eddie figured he should talk to Gabe in private. “I’ll call you back,

okay? Get started on what we talked about.”

“Okay. I’m going to need an address.”
“In a minute, all right.”
“All right.”
Eddie turned to Andrew. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”
Andrew didn’t take his eyes off the road. “It’s nothing. You’re just

protecting your employees from my filthy, biohazardous—”

“It’s not your biohazard. It’s your father’s. And it’s not even filthy,

necessarily. I have no idea what to expect. Even in warehouses where
there’s no food and things are kept neatly, sealed and cared for, there’s
dust, mold, silverfish, spiders, and webs, rodents, pests of all kinds.
That’s just life in the food chain. Mother Nature reclaims every inch we
don’t work for every day.”

“I know that. I do.”
“So we go in there like…explorers on the new frontier. Prepared to

fight off anything. That’s how we do it. Our employees are important to
us. You’re important to me. You and your dad were rooting around in
there, bringing up dust. It worries me to think what you were breathing
in.”

“God, I’m so totally the wrong boyfriend for you.”
“Shut up. You are not.”
“I’m not neat like you are. I—”
“Can we worry about one thing at a time?”

“But—”
“I’m not as neat as you think I am. I just don’t have a lot of stuff

other people have.” What Andrew had seen as neat might simply be the
lack of reading materials—mail and magazines and newspapers and
books. Things that Eddie noticed took up a lot of space in other people’s
houses. By necessity everything Eddie did from “reading” about current
events to catalog shopping to paying bills happened online. His dyslexia
made for a very uncluttered house. He did like things neat though. He
liked to clean, but that was a preference, not an addiction.

After they pulled up in front of Reese’s place and parked, Andrew

joined Pam in the driveway, where she was waiting for them. Eddie sent
Gabe the address of Reese’s house.

“Okay. I think we’re making some progress here.” Pam outlined

what she’d discussed with Reese. “Your dad established some ground
rules. We’re going to do what your father allows, but we’re also going to
give him the occasional challenge. We’re going to push his boundaries
by a very little bit and see where that takes us. I’ll be here every step of
the way. I don’t want to give him a chance to rethink this.”

“All right.”
“Are you okay?” she asked Andrew.
“I’m getting a headache.” Andrew gave a lift of his shoulder. “I’m

sure my dad has some kind of pain reliever. So it’s okay to push him a
little?”

“Yes. We need to test the waters. In the meantime, we’re going to

hold him to our agreements. It’s not going to be easy for him, but he has
agreed, and we’re going to be as efficient as we can be. Okay?”

“Okay.”
“So your friend—” She turned to Eddie. “Andrew said you’re

making some calls to get us a hauling truck?”

“I’ve got a truck on the way, along with some helpers. My partner is

going to be here in a bit. This is actually my business.”

“It is?” Dr. Frost asked, surprised. “Really?”
“Eddie owns a company that cleans crime scenes. Maybe you’ve

heard of them? The Brothers Grime?”

“Oh my gosh. I know about you. Your trucks say, Because life is not

a fairy tale.” Pam gave his shoulder a playful punch. “Oh my goodness,

Andrew. You really did come prepared. Good for you.”

“I didn’t.” He sent Eddie a look of appeal. “I thought they just

cleaned crime scenes. I had no idea he worked with hoarders. I just
wanted him here because…he makes me feel good.”

“I see.” Pam smiled at them both.
“Yes, but I also don’t want him here, if that makes sense,” Andrew

admitted. “I hate for him to see us like this.”

“I understand.”
“He hasn’t even been inside yet.”
“I know what to expect.” Eddie had gotten tired of being discussed

as if he wasn’t there.

Andrew said, “I just don’t want you wondering when my book

collection is going to get out of control, or if I’m going to start finding it
hard to throw empty bottles away.”

“This is going to be a real worry for you,” Pam observed, “isn’t it?

That you might follow in your father’s footsteps.”

Andrew eyed Eddie, nodding.
“We can work on that, if you like,” she told Andrew. “You have my

number.”

“Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.” She glanced at her watch, then at Eddie. “Do we

have any kind of an ETA on your partner? We can probably make some
preliminary plans while we’re waiting.”

“It will take at least ninety minutes for Gabe to get here with the

Grime truck. The rest of my crew will be here when they can. Someone
will bring the hauler later, so it would be best if we set up staging
areas.”

“I’ve asked Reese to show us everything, starting with the yard

because that’s what we’re mandated to have done by Monday. We can
do that while we’re waiting. Would that be all right with you?”

“All right,” Andrew agreed. “Let’s get started.”
“Let me get some masks and gloves from the car,” Eddie offered. At

Andrew’s unhappy expression, he said. “I’d feel better if we had them,
just in case.”

“That’s very thoughtful.” Pam nodded.

Andrew relented. “All right. Thank you.”
The four of them, Pam, Eddie, Andrew, and Reese worked together

quietly until Gabe arrived with the Grime truck. They’d set up a staging
area: the grass on one side of the driveway was for recyclables, the
grass on the other was for donations, and the concrete was for actual
garbage bags. Andrew, Eddie, and Reese were bringing out the first bags
of recyclables from the yard. The things being kept would be boxed and
restaged in the yard until they cleared enough space in the garage or—
Eddie wasn’t sure what they would eventually do with the “inventory”
Andrew’s father had acquired. They all had enough to do without
worrying about that just yet.

Andrew was grim-faced but stoic. He’d walked into a massive

cobweb and lost his shit until he’d yanked off his shirt and forced Eddie
to go on spider patrol in his hair. Between that and the clouds of dust and
feathers and God knew what all that wafted into the air with each item
they moved, Andrew had graduated to gloves, a mask, and safety
glasses.

Skippy jumped down from the truck with a wave. “Lucky you called

before Kelly Ann could drag me to the swap meet.”

“Thanks for coming on such short notice.” Eddie walked over and

helped Skippy unlock and open the back of the truck.

“It’s not like we’ve got lives or anything.” Gabe came around the

truck hunched over to head butt Eddie, who caught him and turned the
move into a hug.

“Come and meet Andrew.”
Skippy and Gabe exchanged glances. Gabe said, “Finally. The

famous teacher we’ve been hearing about.”

“Yeah, yeah.” They followed Eddie to the garden gate, where he

could see Andrew struggling with a carton full of empty jars. “Andrew, I
want you to meet my friends.”

“Okay.” Andrew put the box down and dusted his hands off even

though he wore gloves.

Eddie wrapped his arm around Andrew’s shoulders. “Andrew, this

is one of my partners, Gabe, and this”—he gave a nod toward Skippy’s
imposing bulk—“is Skippy.”

“Glad to meet you finally.” Gabe offered to shake hands. “Eddie’s

kept pretty mum about you.”

“He has?” Andrew shook Gabe’s hand while giving Eddie the stink

eye.

Skippy bared his teeth in what Eddie recognized as his teasing

smile. “He thought we wouldn’t figure out why he was dressing up and
slapping on his nice cologne to drop his niece off at school.”

“You dressed up?” Andrew asked. “You mean you don’t normally

wear suits to work?”

“I wear suits,” Eddie hedged. “Sometimes.”
Skippy nudged Gabe and muttered, “When we’re going to a

funeral.”

Gabe added, “Or if we have to testify in court.”
“I see.” Andrew nodded. “Does that happen often?”
“Not really. Only if we find something the CSI guys missed. A shell

casing or whatnot,” said Skippy. “It’s like no one takes pride in their
work anymore.”

Andrew shrugged. “The police must have a million things they look

for. I’m not surprised they miss something occasionally.”

“I’m not talking about the cops. I’m talking about the doer. How

hard is it to police your brass? That’s just fucking sloppy. Shows a lack
of self-respect if you ask me. This whole country is going to hell.”

Andrew nodded again, politely. “It does seem to be—”
“Skippy.” Eddie’s voice held a warning.
“All right, all right.” Skippy picked up the box of jars Andrew had

laid down. “But in my day, a guy counted off his shots and made sure he
found every casing. In my day, we didn’t count on budget cuts and sloppy
police work to do our job for us. We didn’t just assume overworked
crime-scene techs would miss shit like that.”

Eddie cleared his throat as Andrew digested this. “In the meantime,

who else did you get hold of.”

Gabe said, “Kim and the new girl are on the way.”
“Janice.”
“Right. Whatever,” Gabe said. “She’s free this afternoon. Kevin is

at his family’s place out of town. Jack and Ryan are coming by at three.”

“Ryan too?”

“Yeah. You said you needed bodies; he said he’d help. That okay?”
“Sure. The more the better. I called my family too. Joe and Ben are

coming, but Cece’s at a wedding. Lucy’s the flower girl, so—”

“Seriously?” Andrew gaped at him. “You invited your family?”
“You need this yard done by Monday, right?” Eddie asked. “Did I

do something wrong?”

“No. I just—” Andrew shook his head. “I don’t want them to see me

like this. You get that, don’t you? This is fucking embarrassing.”

Eddie took a step back and pulled out his phone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t

think about that. Don’t panic. I’ll call and tell them not to come.”

Andrew stopped him. “It’s not like I don’t appreciate their help, you

know that, right?”

“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. I’m overreacting, but it’s—” Andrew took a deep

breath. It was clear he was getting wound up, and Eddie felt like a heel.
“I’m grateful, of course, but I can’t bear the thought that they’ll see us
like this. They’re going to meet my dad like this. Is that what you want?”

Eddie looked up and saw Pam and Reese watching from the

backyard. Shit. Had Reese overheard? Probably, because he’d paled at
Andrew’s words. Reese turned away and faded into the shadows cast by
the trees.

Pam walked toward them. “What’s up?”
Eddie spread his hands apart. “I guess I made a mistake. I—”
“Oh my God, would you stop? It’s not a mistake. I just can’t handle

your family seeing us like this, okay?” Andrew grabbed the nearest thing
he could find, a bag of two-liter soda bottles, and stalked past Eddie
toward the side lawn. When Eddie tried to stop him, he shouted, “It’s
fine. I’m fine.”

Eddie stared after him.
He’s right. I should have asked first.

Chapter Nineteen

Andrew dropped the bag in the recycling pile near all the other bags

of empty two-liter bottles. Christ. He’d completely lost it, but…

Look at me. I’m wading through half a dozen years’ worth of

trash.

He’d dressed in crappy clothes. He was already filthy. Already

exhausted, and it was only the beginning.

He knew Eddie’s brothers and sisters. He’d met Lucy’s

grandparents. He liked them. When he thought about seeing the rest of
Eddie’s big, loving family in any other circumstances, it was fine. He
looked forward to it. He was prepared to love them.

It was just…this. The shame was unbearable. How could they see

this and not judge him. How could they see this and not wonder if he was
damaged goods.

“Deep breath,” Pam said from behind him.
Andrew shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“You know when you said you worry about your future? Whether

this behavior is something you’ll begin to exhibit someday?”

He turned toward her. “Yes.”
She took his gloved hand in hers. “One of the things we can predict

is that keeping certain problems a secret will make them worse.”

“I know that.” Andrew pulled away from her. “I just don’t see how

—”

“Holding on to shame can sometimes be at the very heart of our

reluctance to make progress, don’t you think?”

Andrew looked at his feet. His suede shoes were caked with dust.

“So you’re saying I should be okay with my new boyfriend’s brothers
coming over here to wade through my family’s crap?”

“Okay might be a little optimistic. But did Eddie turn you away in

disgust? He didn’t spring from a vacuum. You really need help. Can you
trust me when I tell you the shame you’re feeling has no place in your
life? We are going to get rid of that negativity and address all these
problems without flinching. This is how I know you’re absolutely not
going to have the future that’s worrying you.”

Andrew nodded. He walked across the lawn to join Eddie. “Don’t

call off your brothers. We need the help.”

Eddie nodded at him. “It will be fine. You’ll see.”
Andrew had to accept that it would be. It seemed he had to accept a

lot of things.

“I guess I overreacted,” he told Pam. “This isn’t how I live. No one

will judge me for this.”

“No one worth caring about will judge your father for this either.

We’re just beginning here. We look at the problem. We tear it apart. We
figure out how to fix it, and we do better later on.”

“It’s that simple.” Andrew nearly winced at how sarcastic that

sounded.

“Sure.” She widened her eyes comically, and he liked her more for

lying to him. She sang, “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

Andrew huffed out a surprised laugh and shifted the bag he’d

dropped so it would line up with the others.

The term rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic suddenly made

perfect, awful sense.

EDDIE TURNED AWAY to get something from the truck. He’d

watched in total admiration as Pam talked Andrew off his ledge. Dr.
Frost was really good. He knew Gabe was hoping they’d make some
kind of business connection with her—that maybe she’d recommend
Grime to her clients. If they proved to her they were as good at their jobs
as she was, it wasn’t too much to hope for.

He’d enjoy working with Pam on a regular basis. He liked the way

she talked to Reese, and now that he’d seen her with Andrew, he liked
her even better. Up until Andrew’s outburst, Eddie didn’t really
understand what he was feeling. Eddie assumed he was embarrassed for
Joe and Ben to see Reese’s house in its current state, but Joe and Ben
weren’t going to judge Andrew. It wasn’t his house, after all.

But when Eddie overheard Andrew’s conversation with Pam, he

realized just how very painful this was for Andrew—the depth of shame
he was feeling personally.

Eddie’s presence, while helpful, even necessary, was exacerbating

the problem. Anyone else with a truck and some guys would be

preferable because then it wouldn’t be personal.

Yet as Pam pointed out to Andrew—to both of them really, because

she had to know Eddie was listening in—there was no place now for
shame.

Shame was what caused people to isolate themselves, to hide their

problems instead of asking for help.

With Andrew on solid ground again, Eddie sought out Reese and

found him gazing down at several big plastic tubs full of paperback
novels marked Detective Fiction.

Pam’s voice was patient. “What I guess I’m trying to say is, some of

these paperbacks appear quite used. Since these are not part of your
more valuable inventory, perhaps you could consider donating them.”

“No,” said Reese.
“Okay, but these have been stored outside, and it looks to me like

—”

“I said no. Books stay. Period.” Reese crossed his arms.
Pam went on, undaunted. “I realize you’ve drawn the line at books,

but there are different types of books to discuss here. There are rare
books, first editions and so forth, and hardcover editions, trade
paperbacks, and pocket books. Paperbacks, unless they’re in good
condition—”

“These are in good condition.” Reese grabbed the lid off the box.

“Even if they’re not pristine, these copies might still be worth something
to someone who wants to read them. They’re books.” As if he was
talking to a child, he said, “You don’t throw books away.”

Even Eddie could see that some were faded. Some had swollen

from inadvertent exposure to moisture. Some looked ready to fall apart
where the binder’s glue was failing. They really weren’t in great shape,
but he supposed he’d seen worse on people’s bookshelves or at the used
bookstore. He really didn’t know what a book lover would buy and what
they wouldn’t.

“But you see, you only have so much space. So it’s necessary for

you to make a hard choice. I’m asking what would happen if you donate
these. They could still be read.”

“You don’t understand.” Reese shook his head. “You don’t know

how a book lover feels about his collection.”

“I think I do, Reese. I believe you love your books very much. But

are they worth losing your home over? That’s what I mean about
choices.”

“And I’m telling you”—he poked a finger at her—“I am not willing

to part with books. Got that? You have no idea what this means to me.
It’s like a sacred trust.”

“Dad.” Andrew put his hands out in a calm-down gesture. “We

understand. Books are very important to you.”

“Every single one of these is a memory. Your mother and I spent

years in that bookstore. I can still see the hand-lettered signs she made,
remember? Detective fiction had a little foil magnifying glass, and
romance had the sparkly hearts. The books are part of our history.
They’re a legacy. You can’t possibly understand what they mean to me,
and—”

“I understand exactly what you mean, Mr. Daley.” Eddie searched

out Gabe’s gaze. “No one understands what you mean better than I do.”

“Eddie.” Pam watched him carefully. “Tell me what you mean by

that.”

“These books are sacred to Reese because every story represents a

family memory. I understand what he means by that because I remember
exactly how it felt when I realized I would never, ever be able to hold a
book in my hands and simply read it.”

“Wait. What?” Andrew’s head snapped around toward Eddie.
“I’m profoundly dyslexic.” Eddie’s gut tightened as if he expected a

blow. “I could no more sit down and enjoy reading the words on those
pages than I could leap off a cliff and fly. I look at books and see my
failure. My disability. All the things I can’t do because I can’t read the
way you can. It’s pretty easy for me to see how a man could look at the
same thing and see all the good things in his life.”

“You can’t read?” Andrew asked quietly.
“I can read if I have to. I’m glacially slow at it, and it makes my

head pound like a kettledrum. I get frustrated easily. I lose patience. I
lose the thread of what I’m reading, and I have to go back and start over
again and again. That’s why I use text-to-speech and listen to
audiobooks.”

“The menus,” Andrew muttered. “That’s why you don’t look at the

menus in restaurants.”

“I can read a menu. I can recognize the word for salmon or salad,

but I hate it. Every time I try, it reminds me that I’m stu—”

“Knock it off,” said Gabe. “How many times do I have to tell you?

You’re not stupid.”

“Is it better that I’m only defective?” Eddie lowered his gaze.
“Eddie.” Pam narrowed her eyes. “You’re just wired differently.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved that away. “I’m a special goddamn

snowflake. My point is this: books represent something intangible to both
of us. I understand that, better than you can imagine. That’s all I’m
saying.”

Reese nodded. Eddie didn’t like the pity he saw in Reese’s eyes,

but they shared a moment of real understanding. Real insight. Eddie was
glad his secret was out if it helped Reese understand he wasn’t alone.

Everyone has demons.
“The thing is,” Reese said, “some of these books are out of print.

The authors are long gone. Who will get to read them if we don’t
preserve them? Every book is an opportunity for a human being to live
beyond their time on earth, and I just can’t be the one to…to…”

Pam’s eyes widened. “I see.”
“You don’t.” Reese shook his head. “I need these. I need to keep

them. I could pack them better, but they stay. There’s a poem by William
Butler Yeats. Something like ‘All the words that I utter / And all the
words that I write / Must spread out their wings untiring / And never rest
in their flight / Till they come where your sad, sad heart is—’”

“‘And sing to you in the night.’ I remember that poem,” said

Andrew.

“Books are sacred.” Reese sighed heavily.
“Yes, they are.” Andrew went to his father and wrapped his arms

around him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t understand, Dad.”
Pam watched Andrew and Reese. She waited until they broke apart,

until Reese had Andrew by the shoulders and was smiling for a change.
“Reese? Would you be willing to leave these here and come have a
coffee with me? We can continue this discussion with Andrew while

Eddie works on the recyclables and trash in the garage. I think I have a
suggestion that will solve both our problems.”

Reese hesitated. He asked Eddie, “You’ll leave the books alone?”
“I will,” Eddie promised. “We’ll stick with the plan. Recyclables

and trash. I’ll ask for guidance if we’re uncertain about anything.”

“All right.” Reese put his chin in the air, but he and Andrew

followed the doctor. “I’ll be with Pam then.”

* * * *

Once Andrew and Pam had Reese calm and talking things over,

Andrew sought out Eddie. He expected to find Eddie right where he’d
left him, in the stacks of containers under the orange tree. When Andrew
discovered Eddie wasn’t there, he went looking for him out front.

“Where’s Eddie?” he asked Gabe, without realizing the man was on

the phone.

Gabe held his hand up to stop Andrew from saying any more. “No,

we only need to know how late you’ll accept donations today… Six?
Okay, thank you.” Gabe disconnected the call and turned to him. “What’s
up?”

“Have you see Eddie?”
“Yeah. He just took off with the first load of recyclables. He’ll be

back in about a half hour, why?”

“Did he seem odd to you?”
“Odd compared to what?” Gabe teased. “Eddie’s a big, strange

man.”

“He never told me he was dyslexic, and then he just—”
Gabe stopped smiling. “Yeah. Well. He goes to great pains to hide

that.”

Andrew didn’t understand. It wasn’t as if Eddie’s dyslexia was his

fault. “But why?”’

“I don’t know. He had to have assistance in school. He was pulled

from class for remedial reading, and they had to bring in people to read
tests aloud for him. He hated that shit.”

“But—”
“It didn’t escape your notice Eddie likes to look good, right?”

“I know that.” Andrew digested that fact. “But how could he think

something like that would matter to me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a teacher? Maybe because

your family owned a bookstore? Maybe because I can see a metric fuck
ton of books from where I’m standing, and I haven’t even looked inside
the house yet?”

Andrew sagged against the truck. “Maybe because I never let a

conversation go by without referencing some book or other. Shit.”

“You know how people trip and then look around to see who

noticed them do it? How they get all embarrassed and run away?”

“Yes.”
“Well, Eddie does that more than most. He’s one cat who likes to

land on all fours every time. He hates his dyslexia. He won’t reveal it if
he isn’t forced to. It took him ages to pass his written driver’s license
test cause he was too fucking stubborn to tell them he couldn’t read it.
Now he has this cool pen that reads for him, and his phone has text-to-
speech so he can listen to text messages and surf the Web through his
earbuds.”

“Ah. Yeah. He does that?”
“He does.”
Andrew thought back. “He doesn’t even open a menu.”
“He doesn’t use the pen in public.” Gabe shook his head. “I’ve

known Eddie since middle school. I don’t know what it was like for him
in elementary, but from what I could tell, he got the short end of the stick
a lot. Kids made fun of him, called him stupid. That kind of stuck even
after he was diagnosed. They called him ‘short bus’ for years. Even in
high school.”

“Oh God.” Just the thought made Andrew sick. He knew some kids

at Taft got bullied like that regularly. Even though there was a zero-
tolerance policy in place, there were only so many instances he and his
colleagues could catch.

“Eddie responded by being absolutely fearless. He came out in

middle school while the rest of us were just watching our dicks get hard
like it was a miracle.”

“I would have died first.” Andrew shuddered. Middle school was

feeding time at the zoo.

“Eddie had a couple things going for him. He was the best dancer

on the hip-hop team, and he’s been bigger than most of his detractors
since the eighth grade. And then there are his brothers, Ben and Joey.”

“What about them?”
“They let it be known that anyone who fucks with Eddie fucks with

them. You may have noticed the family trend toward big men.”

Andrew nearly choked on his embarrassed laughter. “I might have.”
“Look at you, losing your shit over your man. That’s so cute.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Look,” Gabe said kindly. “That had to be hard for him just now, to

admit his disability in front of all those people, but I know him. He saw
your dad struggling and gave up his deepest, darkest secret to let him
know he’s not alone. That’s Eddie. That’s who he is in a nutshell. I love
him. Don’t get upset just ’cause he didn’t tell you the truth up front.”

“I would never. I was looking for him to thank him. I want to tell

him how much I appreciate what he did, but he’s run off.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” admitted Gabe. “You matter to him, so maybe he

lost it.”

“He matters to me.” Andrew’s heart tightened around the words.

“So much.”

“That’s kind of nice though.”
“If I don’t fuck it up.”
“You won’t. Your heart’s in the right place.” Gabe glanced over to

the donations pile. “We should be hauling trash next, so tell everyone to
find as much as they can and put it on the driveway. Donations should be
last because they close later than the city’s garbage collection center.”

“All right, I’ll let my dad and Pam know. In the meantime, I have

something I need to look for.”

“All right.” Gabe started to walk away.
“Hey,” Andrew called, and Gabe turned back. “Thank you.”
Gabe gave him a jaunty salute and said, “Thank me with beer and

pizza later, and we’re good.”

Andrew sighed. His chest actually ached. Now he had a half hour to

think and worry, and he didn’t doubt Eddie was doing the same.

“What a dickwad,” Andrew muttered as he headed into the pathway

they’d started in the garage. “Just run off, why don’t you?”

“’Scuse me?” Skippy materialized from the shadows on the side of

the garage.

“Eddie ran off. I was hoping to have a word with him, and he just

took off without telling me.”

“Yeah.” Skippy dusted his dirty, gloved hands off. “I thought he was

going to wait for his brothers to get here.”

“So did I. I think maybe he was avoiding me.”
“On account of that reading thing?”
“I guess he said that to make me feel better.”
Skippy seemed to give that some thought. “I’ve got a fake ball.”
Andrew couldn’t keep his gaze from traveling to Skippy’s package.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I um…I kind of had a scrotal mishap. It took a while for me

to get unstuck and head for the hospital. Do you suppose Eddie would
feel better if I told him about that?”

“Gee.” Andrew blinked, trying to unsee the image that came to his

mind at that. “I don’t know.”

“Everybody’s got something. He knows that. He probably just needs

to take a breather. Maybe he’s afraid you’re going to tell him how sorry
you feel for him and shit, and he doesn’t want to hear it.”

“But I don’t feel sorry for him.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he obviously doesn’t need to read in order find out

everything he needs to know. He’s successful. He’s…amazing.”

“Aw. That’s nice you think that.” Skippy grinned. “He’s my friend.”
“Look, do you think you can help me? I want to get my hands on

something my dad has stored in the living room, but there’s a ton of crap
in the way. Do you think you could help me get to it? Hold my feet or
something, and then pull me out when I’ve got hold of it?”

“Sure. I guess. You’re the boss today, Boss.”
“All right. Thanks. Come with me.”
They made their way through the front door with some difficulty.

Andrew found the path he and Reese had made earlier that week. Skippy
said nothing while Andrew hunted through piles of old electronics,

camera equipment, and boxes of CDs.

Despite working on the room for several days, he and Reese had

made little headway. Andrew only had a basic idea where things were
located. He finally found his father’s old stereo system behind a
mountain of boxes of vinyl records and handed it out piece by piece to
Skippy. Together they carried it outside to set up on the patio along with
a box of records.

The speakers, which weren’t very big, appeared to be in good

condition. Andrew switched on the different components, and the
turntable began to spin.

“It works,” Andrew said, finding an old plastic insert to use with a

vinyl single to try it out. “Let’s see if it’s still any good.”

He set the needle carefully, and the Shirelles’ song, “Will You Still

Love Me Tomorrow” filled the air.

“I love that song.” Pam clapped happily.
“Good music, maestro.” Gabe thumped Andrew sharply on his

back.

“Got it. Now all I need is—” Andrew turned and saw Eddie come

around the corner of the garage and into the yard. Andrew hesitated
before offering his hand. “All I need is someone to dance with me.”

Eddie eyed him warily. “What is this?”
“What does it look like?” Andrew teased. “It’s a break. We’ve

earned it.”

Eddie shook his head and backed away, turning to leave by the side

yard. Andrew hurried to catch up before Eddie could disappear around
the corner.

“Wait.” Andrew stopped him at the gate. “Why are you running

away?”

“I don’t need a pity party.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Eddie admitted. “Why the music?”
“I just thought we could take a break. Maybe you show me some

more dance steps.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“Maybe.”

Eddie glared at him. “Because someone—probably Gabe—told you

I compensate by dancing, right?”

“Nobody said that.”
“It’s true though.” Eddie leaned against the garage wall. “I used to

show off my dance moves as a ‘fuck you’ to all the kids who called me
names. I may not be right in the head, but I can dance like Michael
Jackson.”

“So take this opportunity to get me on the dance floor. Back in the

day, Michael’s moves got me really hot.”

“Yeah?”
“Yeah. So come on,” Andrew urged. “Show me.”
“All right. But just so you know…” Eddie took his hand. “I’m

thirty-three years old, and I don’t have to compensate for anything.”

Andrew smiled at that. “I’m damn glad to hear it.”
Eddie led Andrew back around the corner just in time for Dave to

restart the song.

“Tonight you’re mine, completely…”
Eddie held his hand out, and Andrew tried not to feel nervous as he

stepped into Eddie’s arms.

“It’s just like the other night, Andrew. I move, and you just go with

me.”

“All right.” Andrew started off on the wrong foot. “Oh, fuck.”
“No worries. Don’t look at your feet. My eyes are up here. You just

look into my eyes. I’ve got you. I won’t let you stumble.”

“I…uh…” Andrew lifted his gaze. “Hope that’s true.”
“I lean; you lean. I step; you step. Easy peasy. Feel where my

body’s going?”

“Yeah.” Oh God. “Yeah…”
“That’s it.” Eddie pulled Andrew’s arm one way and his body went

the other, out, twirl, back in. “You’ve got this.”

“If you say so.” Andrew trembled with anxiety. He knew every eye

was on him. He was getting it. He could do this.

“Look at you.” Eddie murmured his approval. “You’re doing it. Just

relax.”

It was hard to keep from being distracted by Eddie’s nearness. His

scent. It was more difficult still to keep from getting hard when their
bodies brushed together.

Eddie’s lips twitched as if he knew what Andrew was thinking just

then.

“It’s sexy, right? I’m going to make a dancer out of you yet.”
“You probably will at that,” Andrew whispered. “If you’re going to

hold me like this while we dance.”

The song ended, and Eddie dipped him as a final flourish. Gabe and

Skippy started clapping, and Pam and Reese joined in, shouting and
cheering.

His father called out, “Hey, it’s lunch and a floor show. Give us

another one.”

Someone found another record, and soon Frank Sinatra was

crooning about black magic. Eddie led Andrew into the steps of a
different kind of dance, and he was sure enough on his feet to allow a
turn or two, a brief separation, and then Eddie reeled him in. He lost his
shyness, his usual awkward physical ineptitude—the expectation that he
was going to be clumsy—and simply enjoyed the sweet press of Eddie’s
body against his. He loved the faith Eddie had in him.

In an ironic twist, he loved the loss of control dancing with Eddie

brought nearly as much as he loved having control in bed.

Andrew didn’t look at his dad too closely. He’d never brought a

date home, much less a man who danced with him like a lover.

Eddie looked reluctant to let him go. “You’re getting it.”
“I’m getting something,” Andrew teased.
“I’m getting that too.” Eddie let him go with a breathless laugh.

“Sometime we have to go dancing.”

“Sure.” Andrew pulled him down to whisper in his ear, “In your

living room, so I can drag you into the bedroom anytime I feel this hot for
you.”

“Don’t think you’re going to start leading once you learn to dance.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think you’re going to lead

anywhere but on the dance floor.”

“Fair enough.” Eddie colored faintly. “That’s absolutely fine by

me.”

“Okay, show’s over, you two,” Gabe called out. “Everyone back to

work. We need that hauler filled so we can get that trash off the
driveway today.”

Chapter Twenty

“Oh my God.” They’d only pulled two bags of garbage from the

garage when Andrew exploded. “Fuck. Me.”

“What?” Eddie rounded the corner, alarmed. “Are you hurt?”
“Ingmar Bergman.” Andrew gave Eddie’s chest a sharp poke. “We

sat through an entire movie with subtitles on our first date, and you never
said a fucking word.”

“As I recall, I tried, but you and your friends didn’t make it easy.

After the movie, your dad called. I’ve been looking for a way to wedge
dyslexia into a conversation organically since, and—”

“Worst. First. Date. Ever. I’m so sorry. I talked about books

nonstop. Christ. We’re like ‘The Gift of the Magi.’”

“Which, I suppose, is a book. Right?” Eddie asked.
“Short story,” Andrew supplied. “Guy and girl want to give each

other presents, but they’re poor, so he sells his watch to buy her a comb
for her pretty long hair, and she sells her hair to buy him a watch chain.
The end.”

“That’s awful.” Eddie grabbed another lawn-and-leaf bag from the

box. “How is that like us again?”

“I brought up books to get your attention, and you kept running away

because I brought up books.”

“And I was trying to get your attention every other way I knew how,

but the book thing intimidated me.”

“It’s like Rapunzel. You wanted up into the tower, and instead of

letting down my hair, I kept lobbing you hair clippings.”

Eddie lifted his eyebrow. “Again with the books?”
“That’s a fairy tale.”
“From a book.”
“And a movie.”
“Which I have never seen.”
“Liar.”
“What?” Eddie looked genuinely perplexed. “I haven’t.”
“You have a niece in my first-grade class. Ergo, I know you’ve seen

Tangled.”

“Ah, yeah. The hair movie? Busted.” Eddie grinned. “I have seen

that one. That’s freaky deaky with the witch and the kung-fu hair shit.”

“Yeah.” Andrew glanced sideways at him as he picked up a

particularly dusty bundle of ancient Pennysaver circulars. “Why the hell
does he save these?”

“I have no clue.” Eddie reached out to push Andrew’s mask in

place more securely. “Keep the dust out, papi. Have you never seen a
dust mite?”

“Huh?”
“Never mind. You don’t want to.”
“There he is,” someone said from outside. “Cha-Cha. Cavalry’s

here.”

Eddie peered through a gap between boxes and gave a happy shout.

“Joey!”

Joe turned his head. “Where are you at?”
“I’ll be right out.” Eddie took Andrew’s hand, and together they

passed through the side yard and out the gate to the driveway, where
Eddie’s brothers stood side by side, holding coolers.

Back when Lucy had introduced her extended family, Andrew’s first

impression had been, Oh my God. Giants. Since then, he’d gotten used to
the fact that the Vasquez men had size on their side. Like Eddie, they all
had super-easy charm too. They jostled and teased like a pack of
wolves, white teeth flashing in handsome faces. Together like that, they
made Andrew shiver in the very best possible way.

“I heard someone needed muscle, so I brought Joe,” Ben said.
“I heard Ben was bringing beer for later, so I came along.” Joe

cracked the knuckles on his enormous hands. “Whatchu need moved?”

“Right now we’re moving trash and recyclables.” Eddie pointed to

the garage and outlined where the staging areas were. Neither man
seemed daunted when they saw the enormity of the task.

“My dad’s…he’s—he—” Andrew gave up trying to explain. “It’s

really nice of you guys to help out.”

“S’al’right, professor. Anytime.” Joe glanced at Eddie. “There will

be food, right?”

It’s going to be that easy?

No judgments. No revulsion.
Just a bunch of willing hands?
“Yeah. There will be food.” Andrew nodded.
“Great.” Ben grinned. “Let the games begin.”

* * * *

By midafternoon the sun was hot and shade scarce. Reese managed

to find some cases of water.

Work slowed down as people took a respite from heat, but since

time was short, they all knew they’d have to get ready for a second wave
later.

Eddie carried another heavy box of books from under the slim,

dappled shade of an orange tree to the patio tables where Reese was
going through the process of elimination with Pam. True to her word,
she’d figured out a way to break Reese’s hold on some of his books—by
proving they were available online.

Once they’d listened to Reese—really listened—his self-imposed

role as guardian of the books became clear. He felt he had to keep every
book to champion authors who had passed away and provide out-of-print
editions to readers who wanted them. Pam only had to show him a title
was available somewhere else, and he no longer felt such a profound
responsibility for it.

No one had been more surprised than Reese that he was able to let a

small number of books go into the donation pile.

After Ben promised to design an online store where Reese could

offer the best of his inventory, he’d found a kind of quiet excitement in
choosing which books to keep.

According to Andrew, Reese was more excited about the future than

he’d been in a long time.

“Hey, Cha-Cha. New recruits.”
Eddie followed the sound of Gabe’s voice. Jack and Ryan worked

their way toward him, Jack negotiating his way past the piles of trash
and books using his cane.

When he was close enough, Eddie pulled him into a hug. “Howsit?”
“Just great.” Jack thumped his back. “I heard you could use some

bodies?”

Eddie hugged Ryan too. “Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime. What do you need?” Ryan returned his hug.
“Come here and meet Andrew.” Eddie led them to the table where

Andrew and Pam were working with Reese. “Everyone? I’d like you to
meet my other partner, Jack Masterson, and his partner, Ryan Halloran.
This is Andrew and his father, Reese.”

Reese stopped peering at his laptop to wave hello.
Jack and Ryan waved back at him.
Andrew stepped out from behind his father and offered to shake

both newcomers’ hands in turn. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s about time we finally met you,” said Jack. “Eddie’s been

losing his shit over you all year.”

“I have not,” Eddie argued.
“He has,” said Ryan. “From what Jack tells me.”
“It’s nice to know I had some effect on him.”
“You had an effect all right,” Eddie muttered. “You drove me

crazy.”

“So what do you need us to do?” Jack glanced around. “Looks like

you’re getting a lot done.”

“The hauler is nearly full again.” Eddie motioned Gabe over. “The

disposal center closes early today. If you could drive the truck over
there, that would be really helpful.”

“Hey,” Gabe greeted Jack and Ryan. “I see you made it out of bed.”
“You should try it.” Jack shoved Gabe playfully. “Eddie wants me

to drive garbage. Is everything loaded that needs to go?”

“Andrew’s itching to get inside the house. We can start with the

kitchen, since we’re taking a load of trash to the dump. I think the
refrigerator is going to be a total loss, and if so, you’ll want to wrap that
and take it too, since you’re going. I’ll ask Reese to come help me get a
look at it. Based on its age, I doubt it will be worthwhile to try and
salvage it. Andrew, can you see what your dad says?”

“All right.” Andrew took off to talk to his father.
“This is tough for him,” Eddie murmured after Andrew left. “So far

it’s going okay, but it’s early yet. His dad is doing better than I expected
though.”

“The key is to go slow and follow the client’s lead.” Gabe gestured

toward Pam. “The doc is amazing. I gave her all our contact information.
I officially offered to work with her anytime. I think she likes us too.”

“She listens.” Eddie pointed out how she and Reese bent their heads

together. “She watches Reese so closely she senses right away when
there’s something bothering him.”

“I’ve never seen a situation like this before, except on television,”

said Ryan.

“On television they edit out all the really boring shit,” said Gabe.

“It’s hard to show a cleanup like this in a single program hour. I once
spent half a day watching a grown man argue with his mother over a case
of oyster crackers.”

“It’s the OCD,” said Ryan. “A person can quite literally feel like

they’re going to die if they throw something out. They can’t help it.”

“I know. I feel for Reese,” said Jack. “Nobody ever imagines things

will become this bad, and when it does, it’s hard to find a place to start.”

“It’s not all trash,” Eddie pointed out. “If it were, it would be easy.”
Gabe nodded. “Here he comes.”
Andrew rejoined them. “Okay. My dad says he has no particular

attachment to the kitchen, except the wall hangings, which are mostly
pictures and stuff of my mother’s. We can get rid of anything recyclable,
anything trash, and all the food without asking him. He says he hasn’t
cooked in years.”

“What about the fridge and the small appliances.”
“I’ll make an executive decision about the fridge when we open it,

but it’s like they always say in Star Wars,” said Andrew. “‘I have a bad
feeling about this.’ There are bugs. I’m warning you right now. If you’re
squeamish about roaches—”

“I’ve got Tyvek suits in the van. And extra work boots,” Eddie

offered. “I wouldn’t go in there without them.”

“Are they good roach-crushing boots?” Ryan asked.
“Yep.” Eddie shuddered. “If you can stand the noise.”
“You know what?” said Jack. “I think I’ll leave the kitchen to you

guys.”

“You’re driving, so you can supervise the loading.”

“I’m up for that. Less tripping. No roach guts on my nice, clean cane

stopper.”

“Thank you again,” said Andrew. “I really appreciate you being

here.”

Ryan smiled. “Happy to help. Especially when there’s no gore.”
Andrew glanced up at him. “Can’t guarantee that, I’m afraid. Could

be a body dump for all I know. I haven’t been in there in six years.”

Andrew said that with such conviction Eddie couldn’t tell if he was

kidding. “I doubt there’s anything we haven’t seen before.”

Andrew shrugged. “No telling what the old man has in there.”
A chunk of ice flew at them. “Who you calling an old man?”
Eddie and Andrew gaped at Reese. He had a smile on his face. He

looked almost happy. At the very least, his face didn’t seem as pale and
drawn as it had been when they’d first arrived. Eddie felt Andrew’s
fingers lace with his. He looked at their joined hands and felt happy too.

Andrew mouthed, Thank you.
Eddie gave Andrew’s hand a squeeze. But he had been honest about

the zigzag nature of this kind of job. Sure, Reese was smiling now, but
despite the fresh color in his cheeks he looked a little tired. Odds were
his good mood would only last until he reached a serious setback or
exhaustion set in. They’d only, by Eddie’s estimation, done about 8
percent of the job.

How would Reese feel when days turned into weeks, and his

choices grew harder?

Eddie looked up and found Pam watching him. “Take your victories

where you can, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded. He for damn sure would do just that.

Chapter Twenty-One

Spacemen.
Geared up like astronaut action figures, Andrew, Eddie, and Gabe

walked toward the house as if they were filming a scene from the movie
Apollo 13.

They wore disposable Tyvek suits with hoods, respirators, goggles,

and gloves. They had on tall rubber boots. Andrew felt ready to clean the
Augean stables.

He turned to Eddie, whose expression seemed a little grim. Since

they carried shovels and plastic and duct tape and trash bags, it was a
wonder the neighbors didn’t call the cops again.

Eddie’s plan was to wrap and remove the refrigerator whole and

take anything suspect out with it. Andrew thought his dad’s toaster was
about thirty years old. So was the microwave, which still had analog
dials. He doubted they worked anymore, or if they did, he doubted they’d
be safe to use.

Approaching the kitchen from the yard through a sliding door, they

shoved aside garbage to clear a path to the refrigerator. Gabe and Eddie
dealt with taping it closed and then wrapping it in heavy-duty plastic
while Andrew, Ryan, Ben, and Joe removed garbage and more
recyclables.

Someone picked up a box, and the bottom gave way. A moldy mass

fell out of old, damp cardboard—maybe bread or hot dog buns. Roaches
overran the ruins of a box of cookies, boiling out to writhe beneath
Andrew’s feet. Andrew hissed and jumped away. Skippy took Andrew’s
place, patiently shoveling the contents of the cookie box and the moldy
bread and all the roaches he could catch into garbage bags without
comment.

Like he does it all the time.
“Come here often?” asked Andrew.
“This ain’t the worst I seen.” Skippy kicked at something that

looked like it had once held potato salad, and scooped it up with his
shovel. “But I like the crime scenes better. Gives me something to
wonder about besides how fast these little bastards can get up my pants
leg.”

“I’m sorry about this.” Andrew felt compelled to apologize—for his

father, for the house, for calling Skippy in on a nice Saturday afternoon
to clean up crap.

“Everybody’s got something, Professor. Kelly Ann says we got to

do what we can to help people when we have the opportunity. She says
to tell you, you need to keep your balance.”

“Wait, she says what?”
“Kelly Ann reads cards. She says you and Eddie make a good

couple. She sees chemistry. She said you should focus on control with
compassion.”

“All right.” Right then Andrew’s world was so topsy-turvy he was

willing to believe anything, willing to try anything that might help him get
through the weekend. Tarot cards, Ouija boards. Thrown bones seemed
likely in the miasma of his father’s kitchen. He wondered if they held a
portent too. “I’ll do that.”

“Cool.” Skippy’s smile was so contagious Andrew smiled back.
There was a nest of spiders, and Andrew gladly ceded those to

Skippy.

There were ants too, moving over the remnants of microwaved meal

trays and empty juice cartons. Privately Andrew feared the smallish
brown pellets he saw lying all over the place meant his father had rats.
He couldn’t even bring himself to ask Eddie, but with each item he
picked up, every box and bag he shook out, Andrew believed his
chances of picking up something with rats under or behind or inside it
increased by just that much.

The thought alone gave him the willies.
Somehow, they managed to drag the wrapped refrigerator outside.

They could barely get it down the narrow side yard and through the gate,
but in the end, Jack was able to secure it in the truck. Andrew sagged
with relief. He returned to the kitchen and saw their efforts to uncover
the floor were paying off, tile by tile.

Andrew had the task of triage. He routed things to the garbage, to

the recycling center, or to Reese for further decision making. He was
sorry to see the pile next to Reese growing into a mountain while the
donation pile out front remained small. Pam had privately reassured him
they were making progress, but it didn’t seem like it. Reese was still

holding on to things as tight as he could.

Andrew had to remind himself again: what they were accomplishing

here wasn’t futile. By taking Reese’s things out of the house and by
cleaning out the roaches and the filth underneath, maybe they were giving
him a head start toward a safer, saner lifestyle. Even if he did keep all
his collectible junk, the garbage would be gone.

Maybe they could organize his things, somehow…
Maybe they could help him sell them through the online store Ben

had proposed. That would be optimal. Reese would be engaged by that.
He’d have something to do with his time. Something he enjoyed doing,
and an online community to do it with.

It took three hours to get Reese’s kitchen and dining room cleared.

Now that Andrew could see them, he remembered sitting down to
pleasant breakfasts with his father before school all those years ago.

He imagined sharing a meal with his dad there again sometime. The

thought made him ache with longing.

Something small and furry darted across the floor in front of him.
“Fuck.” He leaped back, only to hear something go crack beneath

his foot. He glanced down and saw he’d stepped on a pair of glasses. He
picked them up and stared at them. “Shit.”

“Something wrong?” Eddie asked.
“It’s official. We have rats. And I just broke a pair of glasses.”

Andrew’s heart thundered. “I don’t recognize them, but I need to tell my
dad.”

Eddie nodded. He opened the door, and the two of them stepped out

together. Andrew approached Reese and waited to get his attention.

Pam glanced up. “Something up?”
Andrew took off his respirator so he could talk. “I broke these. I’m

sorry.”

Reese frowned and took them from him.
“They were on the floor, and I didn’t see them. I accidentally

stepped on them. I don’t know if they can be fixed.”

Reese didn’t look up. Andrew felt the first faint fear he’d done

something terribly wrong when Reese curled the fingers of both hands
around the glasses. Andrew glanced toward Pam, who didn’t take her

eyes off Reese.

“Reese?” she asked. “Tell me about those glasses.”
Reese shook his head. Tears fell on the lenses.
Eddie stepped up behind Andrew and put a hand on the small of his

back, offering what comfort he could. All around them, it seemed as if
the temperature dropped ten degrees. Gabe stopped what he was doing
and stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching.

“Reese?” Pam said again.
“They were Colleen’s.” Reese bent his head to his hands as if

someone had stabbed him. “They were my wife’s.”

Andrew’s heart sank. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”
Reese shouted, “Sorry doesn’t cut it!”
Andrew accepted that with a tight nod.
“God…I can’t,” Reese sobbed. “I can’t do this.”
“Dad—”
“No.” Reese rose to his feet. “You don’t understand a damned thing.

You never did. You brought all these people here, and now they’re
pawing around all ham-handed like a bunch of gorillas. Throwing things
away and breaking things.”

“Dad, I’m sorry, but would you rather lose your house?”
“You need to stop this.” Reese pointed at Pam. “Stop them. I can’t

do this anymore. I can’t.”

Pam got up from her chair to face him. “Reese, let’s talk about this.

Let’s take this opportunity—”

“No.” Reese pushed Andrew aside. Once inside the house, he

shouted at everyone working there. “Get out of my fucking house!”

Pam followed him. “Mr. Daley. There’s no need to shout.”
Reese paid no attention to her. He glared at Ben and Joe. “I

appreciate what you’re trying to do, but get out.”

Ben and Joe filed out with Skippy following after them. He glanced

back at Reese and then at Eddie, confused.

No one looked at Andrew.
Eddie called them over to a place in the side yard, and they put their

heads together there, talking for a minute. It reminded Andrew of football
game.

Third down, ninety-seven yards to goal. The players gather in a

tight huddle. The quarterback calls for a desperate play…

Right. Ninety-seven yards to goal, idiots. Nothing good’s going to

happen here.

They nodded, broke formation, and headed toward the front yard,

all except Eddie, who came over to talk to him.

“I see you starting to panic,” Eddie told him. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” Andrew spread his hands. “My dad just pretty much

threw us out. We haven’t even gotten started yet, and he just—”

“I tried to warn you. These things never go smoothly.” Eddie gave

Andrew’s shoulder a squeeze. “This happens all the time. It’s a process.
You go one step forward and then sometimes two, four, six back. This is
hard for your dad, and we have to go at his pace. Pam will talk him
down, and we’ll get going again.”

Andrew nodded. “I wish I was as sure of that as you are.”
“We will. In the meantime, we’re going to make our last runs with

garbage and recyclables. Since there’s not a whole truckload of
donations, Skippy’s filling the Grime truck. He’ll take those. They’re
coming back after, but my guess is we’ll be knocking off for the day.”

“Shit.”
Eddie pulled Andrew into his arms. “We’re on track. There’s no

need to panic yet. I promise you. I’ve done this before. This is a bump in
the road, not a dead end.”

“But it seems like the yard is just getting full again. After all the

things we took away, we’re not a whole lot closer to getting this cleaned
up.”

“Let Pam do her job, all right?” Eddie rocked him from side to side,

and for just a minute Andrew allowed himself to be comforted by the
embrace.

“All right.” Andrew pushed Eddie away. “Thank you. You’ve been

amazing today.”

Eddie shrugged and gave him a small grin. “I’m invested.”

* * * *

Eddie listened to Pam’s soft, coaxing tone of voice. Reese wasn’t

calming down. In fact, he was getting more agitated. It sounded like the

end of work for the day. Maybe they were at a good stopping place.
Tomorrow they could come back and clear the yard of the things Reese
couldn’t let go of, and either fit them into the garage or, God forbid, back
into the kitchen. With the yard clean, the immediate threat to Reese
would be diminished.

That’s not what Andrew had been hoping for, but nobody expected

the cleanup to go smoothly. They could come back and work a little at a
time when the opportunity presented itself. If Reese let them come, that
is.

Right then it looked doubtful.
“If only I hadn’t shown my dad those goddamn glasses.” Andrew

berated himself. “I should have known better. I didn’t realize they were
my mother’s.”

“It wasn’t the glasses, papi,” Eddie said. “It was the stress of the

whole day.”

Andrew leaned against him. “It’s the disappointment of the last few

years.”

“Right. This didn’t happen overnight, and there’s no way we’re

going to fix it that quick.”

“I know.”
“We’ll have other opportunities.”
“You think so?”
“I really believe”—Eddie peered past Andrew to the confrontation

between Pam and Reese in the kitchen—“that your dad is ready to make
some changes. He was into the idea of an online store. He said he’d like
to try selling some things on eBay. I think if we continue to paint pictures
of positive change, he’ll come around little by little.”

“Maybe.”
After a particularly loud exchange, Pam opened the slider and

slipped out. “Your father is feeling agitated.”

“No kidding.” Andrew laughed at her understatement. “What should

we do?”

“Reese is tired, and to be honest, I am too. How about we let things

percolate here. I told him I’d be back at nine a.m. tomorrow to continue
work on the yard, and he agreed to that. He’s adamant that he doesn’t
want anyone in the house anymore, but maybe if he sleeps on it, he’ll

change his mind.”

“Maybe,” said Eddie.
“In the meantime, we did a lot of good here.” Pam turned her

attention to Andrew. “A lot of good. We made great progress, and we’ve
bought Reese some time.”

“Did we?”
“‘True progress quietly and persistently moves along without

notice.’” Pam smiled.

“Who said that?” Andrew asked.
“I did, just now. Didn’t you hear me?” She batted his arm playfully.

“Oh, all right, I may have gotten it from St. Francis of Assisi.”

“Right. Until tomorrow then?”
Ben and Joe came back into the yard. Ben saluted smartly. “What

news, Admiral?”

Andrew made a face at him. “The ship sank.”
“What does that mean exactly?” asked Joe.
“That’s all the progress we’re going to make for today,” Eddie told

them. “Reese is taking some time to think.”

“That’s a nice way of saying he’s having a meltdown,” Andrew

added.

“This is hard for him,” Pam reminded them. “I didn’t like how he

looked anyway. He seemed truly exhausted. Is he diabetic or anything?
Does he have any medical conditions?”

“Not that I know of.” Andrew probably should know things like

that. It was time he paid more attention. Reese wasn’t getting any
younger. “I don’t think so.”

“Well…” She glanced back toward the kitchen. “I told him to get as

much sleep as he can, and that we’d start again tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” offered Andrew. “For everything.”
Eddie laid a comforting hand on Andrew’s shoulder while he turned

to his brother. “Joe, how about you tell the others I’ll barbecue burgers
at my place if they want to stop by. We can kick back there. Relax a
little.”

“Sure, I’ll let them know. I think Skippy’s going home after he

makes the donations run, but the others were planning on coming back.

I’ll let them know it’s a no-go.”

“See you at my place then. We’re coming back tomorrow, but I

don’t suppose you’ll appreciate getting pressed into service a second
time.”

“Knock that shit off,” Joe ordered. “I’ll be here. I’ve got nothing

going tomorrow.”

“Thanks, man.” Eddie gave his brother a bone-crushing hug.
“See you at your place.” Joe left them to go tell the others.
Andrew had a sudden, awful thought. “We should get my dad some

dinner. There’s only water and snacks to eat here anymore, and no
refrigeration.”

Eddie nodded. “We can pick up a meal and bring it back before we

head home.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll arrange to have a new refrigerator and microwave

delivered. That will mean appliance shopping.”

“That would be good,” said Pam. “Make sure you get a good night’s

sleep too. Tomorrow could be another long day.”

“Thank you, Pam. You’ve been amazing.” Andrew held out his

hand, but she pulled him into a hug.

“It’s going to be okay, Andrew. Reese is right on target.”
“Even though he threw us out?” Andrew hugged her tightly,

accepting comfort in return. “I’m so sorry about that. It’s like he saw
those glasses and just snapped.”

“Oh, honey.” Pam patted his back. “I’ve been thrown out of far

worse places than this. I’m a bad penny. I just keep coming back.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Eddie took a beer from Joe, and they clinked their bottles together.
Leave it to guys like Ben and Joey to turn a hard day into a party.

Joey had cracked open the beer coolers. Hip-hop music thudded from
Eddie’s outdoor speakers. Jack and Ryan occupied the porch swing on
Eddie’s deck while Ben grilled hot dogs and burgers. Gabe had gone to
make a call to Dave, who might or might not show up later.

Eddie sat at the patio table, rearranging Sunday’s Grime schedule

so he could keep Skippy and Gabe with him at Reese’s. He’d made calls
to Kim and Janice, and they’d worked it out.

Joe tugged on Eddie’s earbuds. “Busy, busy.”
Eddie looked up from what he was doing. “I’m in charge of

schedules, so I’m just double-checking we’re good for tomorrow if
Reese allows us back in.”

Joe pulled a chair next to his. “One thing I can say for you, little

brother. It’s never boring when you call me for a favor.”

“Yeah, it is.” Eddie had called his brothers for backup more than

once. “At least there’s no blood this time.”

“So.” Joe had the air of a man about to change the subject. “How

long have you been dating Professor Hot Stuff?”

Eddie laughed at that. “Not long.”
“’Cause you know, Cece’s going to blow a gasket when she finds

out.”

“Why’s that?”
“If you didn’t tell her, I mean.” Joe’s eyes sparkled. “She’s going to

make you pay for that.”

“Do I normally announce my dates to the family?”
“We all knew you were into him. We just thought we’d die waiting

for you to sac up and do anything about it.”

“Nice.” Eddie took a long pull from his beer. The bitter bubbles

sizzled down his throat. “Your faith in me is almost touching.”

“I’m just saying. Looks like his dad’s got some baggage though.”
“Ya think?”
Joe gave him a shove. “I’m happy for you. Andrew’s a good guy.”

“It’s early days.”
“Gotcha.” Joe bobbed his head. “Just don’t wait too long to tell

Cece and Lu, because you know that shit’s going to be big news, and they
will kill you if they’re not among the first to hear it.”

“All right.”
“This reminds me of when we were kids.” Joe nudged his shoulder.
“Yeah.” All four siblings’ birthdays were in the summer, and they’d

always had one big family bash—bounce houses for the kids, and beer
and barbecue for the grown-ups. Eddie remembered those big summer
parties with fondness. “We should do that again sometime. What if we
throw Lucy a party after school lets out? We could do it here. Cece
could invite Lucy’s whole class, parents and kids.”

“Yeah, and Professor Hot Stuff can make a celebrity guest

appearance.”

“Maybe, yeah. The kids would love to see him outside of school.”
“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” asked Joe.
“What do you mean?”
“Is it okay for a teacher to get that involved with his students?” Joe

frowned. “I mean, you don’t shit where you eat, you know?”

Eddie stiffened. “That’s crude, Joey.”
“Right but I mean, what if some parent can’t taste the rainbow, you

know what I’m saying? What if him being with you gets him in trouble?
It’s one thing if they see you on the street or at the grocery store, but if
you invite them…”

“I never thought of that.” He was going to think about it now,

goddammit.

“Maybe you want to keep your relationship separate from his

career.”

“He’s out and proud. He told me—”
“There’s out and proud, and then there’s PDAs where the kids he

teaches can see him.”

Eddie gaped at him. “I would never—”
“I’m not talking about grinding on the dance floor. Even just holding

hands could get him in hot water with some of those Bible-thumper
types. Even a peck on the cheek. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it, and

I’ll be right there beside you if anyone gives you shit. I’m saying it’s
something you need to discuss with him because it’s his career we’re
talking about. People go bat-shit crazy when there are kids involved.”

Eddie nodded. God, Joe was right. How out Andrew wanted to be

was something to think about. Something to talk about, just to make sure
he and Andrew were on the same page. Eddie looked his brother over.
His talk about people being overprotective about kids seemed kind of…
“When are you and Olivia going to give parenthood a try?”

Joey glanced down, and his cheeks darkened suspiciously. “We

might be trying. Hell…we’ve been pretty diligent.” He grinned
sheepishly

“Seriously?”
“We might even have gotten the job done. We’ve got a few more

days to wait before she can pee on a stick and—”

“Yes!” Eddie heartily clapped his brother on the back. “It’s about

fucking time. I need more nieces and nephews. Andale pues.”

“You’d better clean up your language pronto, Uncle Cha-Cha. I do

not plan to tolerate your use of fucking profanity around my precious
goddamned offspring.”

“Well, when you find out, we’ll get us some cigars and a bottle of

reposado. We can play some cards. Make a night of it.”

“Right. Like Olivia’s going to let me celebrate my impending

fatherhood by getting drunk and gambling.”

“Nah, we tell her it’s a rite of passage. She’ll go along. That’ll

make it official. You’ll be one of the old guys. Now you can go home
and talk the dad talk with the patriarchs. Another one bites the dust.”

“Speaking of which? When are you going to start coming around

again? We’ve missed you.”

Eddie picked at the label of his beer. Lately, he’d been avoiding

those man sessions. First his sister had married and added an extra
brother into the mix, and then his brothers had tied the knot one after
another. He’d gone from basking in the warmth of his family’s male
bonding rituals when he was young to being the ultimate outsider,
listening to talk of wives and children and, sometimes, conservative
social politics.

“That’s the road I didn’t take, man.”

Joey gripped his shoulder. “You think you can’t be one of the old

guys because you’re gay?”

Eddie jerked away from him. “Maybe I don’t want to be one of the

old guys anymore.”

“I call bullshit. If we’ve done anything…said anything…to make

you feel unwelcome—”

“It’s not that.”
“What is it? Even Olivia said something about it. You’ve been to

the house for food, but you don’t stick around anymore.”

“I’m not like you guys. I can’t—” Eddie had to swallow past the

deep, burning ache in his throat. “I watch you out there when you’re
having a smoke with Dad. When Olivia passes by the window—when
she catches your eye and she smiles at you—you get this expression like
the sun’s coming out after a solid year of storms.”

“Aw, man. You’re going to find someone, Cha-Cha,” Joe said.

“You will. You’ve got something real sweet with the professor there. I
saw it with my own eyes; you can’t tell me—”

“You don’t get it. Remember how Mami fawned all over Cece

when she was pregnant? Remember how cute Lucy was, running around
with sparklers last Fourth of July? Now you’re on the verge of starting a
family, and I just…I want what you have, and I’m not going to get that.
I’m never—”

“You don’t know that, Eddie,” Joe said gently. “You don’t know

what’s in your future.”

“I know that if I do have a family—a husband and children—it

won’t be the same. No one will let it be.”

“Then fuck ’em.” Joe leaned toward Eddie, his elbows on his

knees, his shoulders hunched, his expression taut and earnest. “Maybe
you think you got a crap hand, but it’s the one you were dealt. I asked you
if you were sure you wanted to do this shit in middle school, if you
recall—”

“You were an ignorant asshat back then,” Eddie snapped. “’Cause

you thought I had a choice.”

“Whatever I thought back then”—Joe waved that away—“I’ve

learned different now. I know you’re who you were meant to be, and
furthermore I am on your side. I know when you bring your man home,

he’ll be welcomed like my Olivia or Cece’s George or Ben’s Felicity. I
will welcome him that way, and I will kick the ass of anyone who
doesn’t.”

Eddie laughed at that. “Thanks, but I can’t actually see you kicking

Uncle Octavio’s ass. What is he, a hundred now?”

“You know Mami and Papi want you to be happy, right? The old

guys? Maybe they don’t get it. Maybe they aren’t ready to learn
something different from what the priests teach, like I did. But let me ask
you this: don’t you always play a hand to win, no matter what you got
dealt?”

Eddie glanced away. Cleared his throat. “Yeah. I do.”
“Okay then. Fuck ’em.” Joe finished his beer and sank it neatly into

one of the open garbage bins. “That’s the name of that tune. Our kids will
make some legendary trouble someday, man. Legendary.”

ANDREW GLANCED OUT the patio window and saw Joe and

Eddie get up from their seats at the table. He’d opened a container of
potato salad and was trying to make it look more interesting by topping
the sticky yellow mass with a sprinkle of paprika.

This was the least he could do after everyone had spent hours at his

dad’s place. He would have liked to cook something, but Eddie assured
him there was no need for a production. They’d stopped at the grocery
store, and dinner was practically cooking itself.

Andrew figured Eddie must’ve entertained in his home a lot, since

the Grime men and Eddie’s family seemed so comfortable and at ease in
his yard. He had a lot of nice seating, a stainless steel gas grill, and
another kettle-style charcoal barbecue. Speakers played music from the
system inside.

For a minute Andrew indulged himself with the fantasy of playing

cohost and not just temporary kitchen worker. He glanced out the
window again.

God. The Vasquez brothers were big men. It was some kind of

sweet dream watching them interact from the window. Muscles rippled,
wide white smiles shone bright under the strings of lights Eddie had hung
between the trees.

Eddie shoved Ben playfully. They were like bear cubs, jostling one

another in the moonlight while Gabe, Jack, and Ryan looked on
indulgently. Usher’s “Yeah” started playing, and as one, Eddie and his
brothers glanced at the speakers and then at each other.

What. The. Hell?
All three Vasquez men stopped what they were doing to dance.

Unable to help himself, Andrew slipped out the patio door to watch.
When the Vasquez boys danced, their fluid grace seemed impossible.
They were jumbo jets or bumblebees. They had to be breaking all the
laws of physics, moving like that—big and agile, but so light on their
feet they took Andrew’s breath away.

All three men were awesome dancers, and they competed for

attention like kids. Joe and Ben were good; they did a pop-and-lock
routine that—on them—looked effortless. They moved like they were on
tracks one second, smooth and silky as sin, and then the next, they jerked
around like sexy windup toys.

But Eddie… Oh, Christ. Somehow Eddie got his hips into the

groove and—unlike his brothers’—Eddie’s hips were a fucking call to
action.

Eddie was liquid sex. Smooth and confident, he flexed charm and

elegance while he danced as easily as he used those ripped muscles to
walk.

Where the hell did you learn to dance like that?
Eddie’s brothers were good, but Eddie dominated. When they

eventually left the floor to him, Eddie continued on as if he were alone
on the stage. He owned the moves.

He owns the world.
Andrew’s breath left him in a shuddery rush. His dick throbbed.
His no-name id said, Gimme.
All Andrew’s vaguely understood quirks of personality, every

predatory and reckless impulse inside him went off like an alarm clock,
GZZZZZZT!

Wake-up call.
Andrew’s heart thundered. His desire felt so vibrant and his entire

body hummed so ferociously, he must have been flashing his need like a
beacon.

Goddamn, Eddie.

Goddamn.
Eddie’s gaze locked on Andrew’s. For the briefest fraction of a

second he faltered. His foot fell a nanosecond off the beat.

Oh, yeah. Come to Daddy.
Eddie stopped what he was doing and stepped off the dance floor

with an embarrassed laugh. He rubbed his hands through his hair and
grinned like a guilty kid.

“Why’d you stop?” Gabe asked Eddie, acknowledging Andrew with

a smirk. “Things were just getting interesting.”

“Burgers are almost ready.” Eddie went into the kitchen and picked

up a platter of hamburger garnishes. On his way out, he turned to
Andrew. “Thanks…for this.”

“You’re entirely welcome.” After Eddie passed by him, Andrew

closed his eyes.

Dinner was going to be torture.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Eddie spoke from the door to the kitchen. “That’s the last of the

food.”

At the living room window, Andrew watched Gabe’s car take off.

He dialed his dad’s number again but got no answer.

Where are you, for God’s sake? He left a third voice mail message.

“Dad, it’s me again. I know you were unhappy when I left, but I really
need to hear from you. Could you text my cell, just to tell me you’re all
right? Okay?”

“He’s still not picking up?” Eddie asked, his arms coming around

Andrew from behind, wrapping him tight.

“No.” Andrew tilted his head to give Eddie access to his neck. “I’m

worried.”

“Is there any reason to believe he’s not just ignoring your calls?”
“Not really.” Andrew shrugged away from Eddie and pocketed his

phone. “He’s ignored my calls before.”

“Did you leave voice mail?”
“Yes.”
Eddie turned Andrew around and pulled him into his arms. “Then

I’m certain he’ll call if he needs something.”

“You’re probably right.” Andrew slid his hands up Eddie’s back.

God, he loved the man’s broad shoulders. “Do we need to do dishes or
—”

“Are you kidding me?” Eddie asked. “You want to do dishes right

now?”

“I want to do you. I just thought I’d ask, since you’re Mr.

Cleanliness.”

“I don’t let that get in the way of getting laid.”
“That’s good to know.”
“But we both need a shower before anything else.”
Andrew agreed. “I could go for that.”
Eddie pulled Andrew into the bathroom, where he made short work

of getting rid of his clothes.

“You’re a work of art, Eddie Vasquez.”

Eddie snorted his denial while he got the shower going.
Andrew was slower when pulling off his T-shirt and jeans because

he was sore all over.

“What’s the matter?” asked Eddie.
“I don’t think I’m as used to lifting boxes of books as I probably

should be, under the circumstances.”

“You sore?” Eddie asked.
Andrew nodded miserably. “Wrecked.”
“Maybe you need a massage.”
“Your lips to God’s ears.” Andrew sighed as he stepped under the

hot spray. “Do you have an on-call masseur?”

Eddie stepped in behind him. “No, but I have some scented oil and

a pretty strong grip.”

“Yeah?”
“Come here, papi. Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’ll see what I can

do.”

“All right.” Andrew picked up the shampoo, but Eddie pulled it

from his hands.

“Let me.”
Andrew allowed the plastic bottle to slide from his fingertips. He

was too busy watching Eddie’s expression. So intense. So kind, for lack
of a better word. Andrew felt hot tears sting his eyes.

“You’ve been working hard on my behalf all day, Eddie.” Andrew

let his hands fall to his sides. “I should be washing you.”

“I like taking care of you.” Eddie’s hands were magic. Combined

with the sweet coconut scent of his shampoo, their shower seemed to
have come straight from some tropical-themed porn film.

“Ah, God.” Andrew laughed at the image that conjured even though

his cock gave a healthy lurch.

“What?” Eddie’s calloused fingers dug deep under Andrew’s hair

to scrub his scalp.

“That feels so good.”
Eddie’s smile laced the kisses he pressed to Andrew’s forehead. “I

like making you feel good. It could get to be a habit with me.”

Andrew relaxed against the wall as Eddie’s fingers kneaded his

skin. “You’re most excellent at it. I’d like to return the favor. All the
favors. I wonder if—” He closed his mouth around the rest of the
sentence.

“What?” Eddie thumbed a knot from Andrew’s neck. “Tell me.”
“I wonder if it’s fair. My dad’s situation imploded, and you’ve been

awesome, really. But it’s a hell of task, and on top of that, it’s your real-
life job. You’re basically volunteering and I—”

“Shh.” Eddie kissed away the words. “It was one day. One thing.

You needed me, and I’m glad I could be there for you.”

“My dad’s place is a black hole where good intentions go to die.”
“That may be true.” Eddie slipped a soapy hand down to cup

Andrew’s balls. “For right now, how about we just concentrate on us.”

Sweet, slick pleasure dissolved any other thought from Andrew’s

mind. He let his head drop back against the tiles. “Ah…yeah. When
you’re right…you’re right.”

Gently, Eddie angled Andrew’s body so he had room to get on his

knees. “Let go, papi. I’ve got you.”

“Fuck…” Andrew’s knees buckled when Eddie’s lips closed

around his throbbing shaft. “Fuck, fuck.”

Eddie bobbed his head once, twice, and then paused as if to enjoy

the earthy flavors he found there. Water splashed over Andrew’s
shoulders. Rivers of warmth cascaded down his skin, sluicing from the
showerhead to his taut muscles and down to fall on Eddie’s kneeling
figure.

Eddie turned his face up as he took Andrew’s cock. His eyelashes

fanned out in damp spikes, long and thick, shadowing brown eyes
Andrew could drown in.

Eyes that gave Andrew permission to take what he needed.
Eyes that said, I’m yours.
Eddie gripped Andrew’s hips. He buried his face into the nest of

soap-scented curls before dragging his tongue over Andrew’s warm,
damp skin.

Andrew gave up a shuddering sigh, one he echoed when Eddie

opened to take his length so deep his nose brushed Andrew’s skin.

“Oh God,” Andrew cried out, gripping the back of Eddie’s head.

Eddie hummed and smiled at Andrew’s hissed, “Yes.”

Eddie tongued around the head of Andrew’s cock. He pushed

Andrew against the wall of the shower and nudged him until he spread
his legs. From there he had access to all the best bits. He cupped
Andrew’s balls and brushed a finger against his taint, all the while
bobbing on his cock.

Andrew went limp, and Eddie caught him easily as he lapped at the

tip of Andrew’s dick. “So good.”

“Yeah? You like that?” Andrew nudged into Eddie’s mouth. “You

like my taste?”

“Oh yeah.” Eddie glanced up. He spoke around the cock in his

mouth. “Tho mush.”

“You make me happy, Eddie Vasquez.”
Eddie closed his eyes and pulled him in, indicating he was ready if

Andrew wanted to fuck his mouth. Eddie’s trust made Andrew’s cock
pound like a kettledrum.

“You want me to fuck your mouth like this?” Andrew asked. “Take

you like this?”

Eddie swallowed hard. Nodded.
“Oh,” Andrew barely breathed. “I love that idea.”
He cupped Eddie’s jaw. Smoothed his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks.
Andrew stroked Eddie’s damp hair, overcome with tenderness for

the big, beautiful man who could break him in half but was gentle enough
to tap his cheek for his niece’s little butterfly kisses as he dropped her
off at school.

“Sweetheart,” Andrew murmured as he watched Eddie open his

mouth, his throat, and his heart.

Eddie sucked with everything he had. He used his tongue, his lips, a

hint of teeth. He used every cell of his body, in the obvious belief
Andrew would know when to pull back and let him breathe.

Andrew didn’t last. He couldn’t last in the face of Eddie’s pure

faith.

Just like that, Andrew was coming, pouring his essence down

Eddie’s throat. Eddie gave up a helpless moan as he stripped his own
dick urgently. It took only seconds for Eddie to find his own release. Hot

cum spattered the floor at Andrew’s feet like an offering.

Andrew faltered. A sudden emotional urgency that had nothing to do

with sex and everything to do with balance and caution and maybe even
anxiety tightened his muscles.

Andrew had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Eddie. No

one in his life had ever offered himself so completely.

Without strings.
Without guile.
Without asking for promises or reassurance or quid pro quo.
With dizzying, blinding clarity, Andrew realized what that might

mean.

Andrew froze.
“What is it?” Eddie asked, concerned.
“I— Nothing.” Liar. “I’m worried about my dad.”
Eddie got to his feet. When he reached out, Andrew put his hands

flat on Eddie’s chest. The touch was tender but meant to keep Eddie at a
distance as much as to reassure him.

Eddie ignored that and kissed him with such passion, Andrew

drowned in it. He wound his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, and he
opened to him, accepting his tongue and even twining his own with it.
Andrew tilted his head, allowing Eddie to deepen the kiss.

“Andrew, I—”
“Stop.” Andrew pulled away.
Eddie’s brows drew together. Eddie must have sensed the change in

his mood. Andrew had gone from hot to cold fast enough to make any
man’s head spin. Maybe he wasn’t ready for what Eddie offered? Maybe
he needed time to think. Eddie’s devotion was like a thick blanket, warm
but, at the same time, a little smothering.

Right then, Andrew’s whole life seemed suffocating. Suddenly, he

was desperate to run away. “I’m worried about my dad. I don’t know
why. Something—”

“If you’re this worried, we should probably drive over to your

father’s house and see if he’s all right.”

“Maybe.” Andrew took the offered way out. Leave it to Eddie to

anticipate even Andrew’s need to back away.

Eddie unhooked the showerhead and hosed them off. He paid

particular attention to Andrew’s belly, stroking cum and saliva from his
skin as though he simply liked the feel of Andrew’s skin beneath his
fingertips. As though he was afraid he wasn’t going to get another
opportunity anytime soon.

Christ. Andrew was spooked. Not stupid. He was tired, and he

wasn’t about to let the best guy he’d ever known slip through his fingers.

Andrew apologized. “I don’t want to ruin our night together. I’m so

sorry.”

“Never mind. You can’t relax if you’re worried.”
“But—”
“Let’s finish up here and throw on some clothes. You shouldn’t

resist the nagging feeling something isn’t right. People have instincts for
a reason.”

“Is that what this is?”
Eddie met his gaze, imploring him to confirm it. “Isn’t it?”
Andrew let out a deep sigh of resignation. “Yeah. It’s probably

nothing, but I can’t get how I left things with my dad off my mind.”

“All right then, let’s drive over to your dad’s place and make sure

he’s only ignoring your calls because he’s angry and not because there’s
something wrong.”

“Never thought I’d hope for such an outcome.”
“Family makes you insane and not just through genetics.”
“That’s so true.” Andrew pulled a towel off the rack and turned to

Eddie. “You washed. I’ll dry. Come here, you.”

Laughing, Eddie held out his arms and let Andrew buff his bronze

skin with the towel. He was so beautiful he took Andrew’s breath away.

“I’m sorry about all this,” said Andrew. “I watched you dance out

there, and I thought, I’m going to fucking drag him to bed as soon as
everyone leaves, and now I can’t seem to—”

“No worries. If you can’t relax after a blowjob, we need to do

something about it.”

While Eddie went to his bedroom to dress, Andrew realized he only

had the same dirty clothes he’d worked in all day. “I did not think this
through.”

Eddie appeared at the door in jeans, pulling a fresh white V-neck

tee over his head. “What?”

“I’m clean, but my clothes are rank.”
Eddie surprised Andrew by wrapping his arms around Andrew’s

hips and hoisting him up. “You smell good, papi. You smell like a
working stiff.”

Andrew let out a shocked grunt. “Glad to hear it, but maybe after we

check on my dad, we can stop by my place to get a change of clothes. We
could crash there if you want.”

“Nah, my place is closer to the Grime warehouse. If your dad gives

us the go-ahead, I might need to pick up some more supplies.”

“Good point. I like your place anyway. It feels tranquil here.”
“It’s the blue and brown. My sister is awesome.”
“No. It’s you.” Andrew hooked his finger in one of Eddie’s belt

loops. “You’re awesome.”

Eddie pressed a leisurely kiss to Andrew’s lips. “Guess now you

know why it’s not cluttered.”

Andrew fought his way past the kiss’s drugging effect. “What do

you mean?”

“No books. No papers. No bookshelves. Nothing to read because I

don’t read. Because I mostly can’t read.”

Andrew felt the tension in Eddie’s body and went still. “Are you

worried that’s going to change things between us?”

Brown eyes held his gaze. “Will it?”
“No.” Andrew shook his head decisively. “Never. How can you

think it would?”

Eddie shrugged. “Sometimes the longer you wait to tell someone

something, the more it preys on your mind. The worse you think someone
will react.”

“Put your mind at ease.” Andrew cupped Eddie’s strong jaw

between his hands. “You’re amazing, Eddie Vasquez. I’d have to be
crazy not to realize how lucky I am to be—” Andrew stopped what he’d
been about to say.

“My hot professor? My boyfriend?” Eddie nipped at Andrew’s

jawline with each suggestion. “My lover? My little pony?”

“Wait, I thought you were my little pony.”
“Oh yeah, papi.” Eddie gripped Andrew’s ass cheeks in his big

hands. “I’m your little pony; say giddyap.”

“Shhhhhit,” Andrew hissed. He shivered when Eddie tongue-

fucked his ear. The squirmy sensation made him hunch his shoulders and
twist away. “No. Get away with that shit.”

“Okay.” Eddie left his ear alone. “C’mon. The sooner we check on

your dad, the sooner we can get back to that. I don’t need sleep, but I’ll
be pretty bad company tomorrow if I don’t get laid.”

“Yeah, okay.” Andrew pulled his shirt over his head, only to find it

didn’t seem to work while Eddie licked and teased at his nipple. “Come
on. Follow your own plan here.”

Eddie backed off and headed to the dresser, where he got Andrew a

fresh pair of socks. Once Andrew had those on, he felt like a new man.
He and Eddie remained silent while putting on their shoes.

Outside the back door, Eddie locked up and pocketed his keys.
Andrew caught and held Eddie’s hand. “You’re awfully good to do

this for me.”

“When are you going to admit it?” Eddie teased. “I’m just awfully

damn good in general.”

“I know.” Andrew gave his hand a squeeze. “I know.”
Eddie walked him through the velvet of the quiet night. Low-level

landscape lighting illuminated the path. Eddie keyed in the garage code,
and they watched the door roll up before getting into the car.

“Buckle up, papi.”
Andrew complied and then apologized again. “This is probably a

big waste of time we could spend fucking.”

“Not if you can’t let your worry go.” Eddie twisted his upper body

around to watch as he backed the car down the driveway and out onto the
road. “It’s all good. Better to make sure.”

“Thanks.” Andrew hoped he wasn’t making another mistake—like

breaking those glasses. These days it seemed as though every step he
took on his dad’s behalf made things worse.

Chapter Twenty-Four

On the drive to his dad’s place, Andrew leaned his head back and

gazed up at the stars. The sky was spectacular—clear enough to see the
faint few stars that shone brightly despite the city lights. The moon was
full. It seemed so close he wanted to try touching it.

He could get used to Eddie’s convertible. He liked it even better at

night when cool air rushed around them like sea foam.

There were hardly any other cars on the road once they got to

Reese’s neighborhood. They coasted to a stop in front of his house,
which was dark, as were most of the houses on his cul-de-sac. Eddie
killed the engine.

“I’ll go ring the bell.” Andrew got out of the car.
“I’ll come with you.” Eddie exited his side and then walked around

to the curb, hands shoved in his pockets. They walked together until they
got to the door, where Andrew rang the bell.

“I’m going to catch hell for waking him up.”
“Probably,” Eddie agreed. “Or we’ll get arrested for disturbing the

peace.”

“That would be a first for me.” Andrew glanced over at Eddie.

“Jail, I mean.”

“Me too.”
When nothing happened, Andrew rang again. “I don’t like this. If

nothing else, you’d think he’d come down here to give me a piece of his
mind.”

“Are you certain the doorbell works?”
“Yes, I heard someone ring it last week.”
Eddie frowned. “Try his phone again.”
Andrew tried the number, and the call went straight through to voice

mail. “No good.”

“Let’s go around the back and take a look,” Eddie suggested. “You

really should have a key.”

“Don’t you think I’ve asked for one? He won’t give me a key. He

says he doesn’t want me invading his privacy.”

Eddie reached over the tall fence. Given his height, he found the

latch on the gate easily. “Shoot. Padlocked.”

“Boost me up.” With Eddie’s help, Andrew hoisted himself up onto

the cinderblock wall. He glanced down. “Can you get up here?”

“I’m not some oaf, Andrew. Drop over, and I’ll be right there.”
Andrew dropped to the ground, and Eddie jumped up and over to

land lightly on his feet on the other side.

Andrew whispered, “I never called you an oaf or an Orc or anything

like that. Seems like you have an issue with your size and—”

“Analyze me later. Right now, we need to check on your dad, and I

don’t want the neighbors calling the police to report prowlers.”

Andrew jerked his head follow-me style. Eddie trailed after him.

The yard was too dark to make out much more than shadows. There was
no light coming from the kitchen.

Andrew used his phone as a flashlight, but it made peering into the

window hard. “Damn. I can’t see a thing.”

“Wait here. I’ll shine a flashlight in through the other window.”
“You have a flashlight?”
“On my key ring.” Eddie pulled out his keys and flicked his penlight

into the On position.

“I always thought you were just glad to see me.”
“Fuck. You.” Eddie cuffed his arm. “If I was glad to see you, you’d

think I was carrying a baseball bat.”

Andrew snorted. “Sure. We’ll go with that.”
“Shut up, you.” Eddie pointed his light into the window. “Try

knocking on the door back here.”

Andrew knocked again. No answer. He tried to see in. Nothing.
Eddie’s frown was made of light and shadow, reminding Andrew of

old black-and-white movie stills. Andrew got lost, looking at him.

Eddie’s strong jaw was resolute. His nose straight. He had

eyelashes so full they made dark half-moons on his cheeks. Andrew had
firsthand proof of his soft lips.

Andrew caught his breath at the sheer masculine beauty before him.
“What?” Eddie asked.
Andrew shook his head. “What do we do now?”
“Now we break in.”

“What?”
“Look,” Eddie said patiently. “I can’t imagine your dad ignoring

both your calls and a knock at both doors. Can you?”

“Not really.”
“Does he sleep with headphones on or anything? Can you think of

any other reason he might not answer the phone or the door for this
long?”

“Maybe if he was in the shower.”
“It’s been too long for a simple shower, and he couldn’t be using

either of the tubs. They were full of bags and boxes, right?”

“Right,” Andrew said uncertainly.
“Do you believe your dad would willfully ignore you if you came

out here to see him?”

“After today? I think he’d come to the door just to tell me to piss

off.”

“The way I see it is we either break in and check that he’s okay, or

we call the police in to do a welfare check.”

“What does that mean?”
“If they decide there’s a reasonable possibility someone may be in

danger, they can perform a warrantless entry.”

“The police? My dad would hate that.”
“Then we break in.” Eddie hesitated. “Does your dad keep

firearms?”

“What? No. You think he’d shoot us?”
“I don’t want to find out.”
“He doesn’t keep guns.”
“All right.” Eddie pulled a multitool from his pocket. “Good thing

this is an old-school door.”

“Why?”
Eddie jimmied the lock on the door and slid it open. “Can’t break

into the new ones for shit.”

“Do I want to know how you know this?”
Eddie turned to smile at him. “My grandmother forgets her keys a

lot.”

“Oh.” They glanced at each other before stepping into the kitchen.

Andrew had never felt so uncomfortable.

He was breaking into his father’s house, for God’s sake.
“Call his name so he knows you’re here.”
Duh. Yeah. “Dad? It’s me, Andrew.”
“Mr. Daley?”
Nothing. Just the eerie quiet of an empty house. A soft light glowed

from the direction of the dining room. Eddie walked toward that, afraid
of what he’d see when they turned on the kitchen light. In the penlight’s
dancing, darting orb, roaches skittered across the floor.

“Dad?” Andrew called again. He switched on the overhead light.

Momentarily dazzled, it took him a few seconds to process Eddie’s
sharp intake of breath.

“Call 911!” Eddie shouted from the dining room.
Andrew froze. As if from somewhere far away, he saw his father’s

foot on the floor, framed by the doorway to the dining room.

What was he doing there?
“Andrew, now. Call 911. Your dad’s unconscious.”
“Okay.” Snapped out of his momentary trance, Andrew dug his

phone from his pocket and made the call while Eddie ripped off his
jacket and covered Reese’s chest with it. Andrew told the dispatcher as
much as he knew—they’d found his father unconscious on the floor of his
home. He gave them the address.

“He’s so pale,” Andrew told the dispatcher as he stood over Reese

while Eddie performed the rescue ABCs.

“He’s breathing okay,” Eddie said. Andrew relayed that

information. “His skin’s clammy. Pulse seems weak.”

“My friend says his skin is clammy,” Andrew told the operator. He

pulled the phone aside and asked Eddie, “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” Eddie shook his head. “Stay with your dad. I’ll go

out front and wait for the EMTs.”

Andrew nodded and knelt beside his dad. He took his father’s hand

in his. It seemed cool and damp to the touch. Reese’s mouth was open,
his breathing shallow and rapid.

There was no sign his dad knew he was there.
While Andrew looked down on Reese’s face, he got his first

official flood of panicked adrenaline. If anything happened to his dad…
God. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

For years, it had been the two of them against the world. They’d

been close when he was a kid, but after Andrew came out, after he went
off to school and his dad had started filling the empty spaces of his life
with things, their relationship soured. They’d argued and avoided each
other. They’d lived in different worlds, twenty minutes apart.

If only he could have been a little more patient.
Christ. If only I could have all those tense, angry words back.
The dispatcher stayed on the line with him while he waited. He

answered her questions as best he could, one ear listening for the sound
of sirens and, after a while, approaching footsteps.

It seemed like an eternity, but it probably only took a few minutes

before Eddie brought a handful of EMTs into the house through the
sliding glass door.

“If you’ll step aside, sir?” One of them helped Andrew stand.

“We’ll take it from here.”

Andrew nodded, his arms folded tightly around his body.
He backed into Eddie’s solid bulk. Eddie pulled Andrew into his

arms and whispered, “It’s going to be okay.”

Andrew swallowed hard. “We don’t know that.”
“We don’t know anything yet. Don’t borrow trouble.” Eddie stood

behind him, solid and certain as the EMTs started an IV line. After that,
they loaded Reese onto a cot.

Thank God they’d cleaned out the kitchen that day, or the EMTs

would have had a hell of a time getting to Reese to treat him. Bringing
him out on a gurney would have been impossible.

Andrew couldn’t help feeling this was all his fault.
“What if this is because we forced him to work so hard today? What

if it’s because he didn’t have a good meal, or…what if he had some kind
of stroke because we upset him?”

“Think about what might have happened if we hadn’t come today.

What if the kitchen and dining room were still impassible? What if you
didn’t have that nagging feeling in your gut to check on him? He’d still be
lying there, and God knows what could have happened.”

Andrew watched the EMTs wheel his father to the waiting

ambulance. “I should call Pam.”

“Let’s find out what we’re looking at first.”
“If something I did hurt my dad—”
“Andrew.” Eddie tilted his chin up and met his gaze squarely. “You

and I are working together with a psychologist to help a man who is
drowning in problems he can’t fix by himself. Your motives were pure.
You acted responsibly. There’s nothing here to blame yourself for.”

Andrew closed his eyes, still consumed by doubt.
“Come on. We’ll know more after the doctors have had a look at

him. You should be there.”

“Yes.” Andrew let out a shaky breath.
Eddie took Andrew’s hand and led him out to his car. “Buckle up. I

know where we’re going.”

Andrew complied. “Glad one of us does.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Andrew’s hands were cold. He couldn’t rid the clammy chill of his

father’s skin from his fingertips, or the dread he’d felt when he realized
there was something really wrong.

The EMTs had been brusque and efficient. Eddie and Andrew had

followed him to the hospital. They’d arrived hoping for news, but his
father had been taken directly into the ER for tests, and no one had any
information yet.

Eddie sat beside him, solid and reassuring. He’d offered to get

coffee or food. He’d offered to go to Andrew’s house to bring him a
change of clothes—anything to make things comfortable.

Andrew remained numb with grief.
He couldn’t make himself engage. Couldn’t enter into the spirit of

eight-month-old magazines and small talk. He sat with his hands clasped,
holding himself together, waiting for news.

All the while, every memory he had of his father assailed him,

reminding him of lost things and broken ties.

When a nurse finally came to Andrew with news, he gripped

Eddie’s hand hard.

“Mr. Daley?” The woman shook his free hand warmly. “Your dad’s

conscious. He’s asking for you.”

Andrew let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank you.”
“You can go have a word with him, and then the doctor would like

to talk to you.”

“All right.”
Andrew rose. He pulled Eddie with him as he followed her colorful

scrub top down what seemed to be a Byzantine labyrinth of endless
hallways. When they came to the room where they’d put Reese, she
turned. “He’s in here, Mr. Daley.”

“Thank you.”
He pushed the door open. The room wasn’t private, but curtains

screened the second occupant. His father lay, pale and fragile looking, in
the first bed. The lighting was so abysmal it made Reese look twenty
years older than his fifty-seven years.

“Dad?”
Reese lifted his hand in greeting. “Hey, Boston. This is a hell of a

thing, huh?”

“Don’t call me that.” Irritation made Andrew blunt. “I’m Andrew. I

go by Andrew.”

Silence stretched out before Reese spoke again. “I passed out?”
“Yes.” Andrew felt Eddie’s hand at the small of his back. “You

scared me.”

“Sorry.” Reese looked away.
“You didn’t answer your phone. Not even to tell me to quit calling

so late.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Reese said gruffly.
“When you didn’t answer the door, we broke in and—” Andrew’s

voice stalled out.

Reese cleared his throat. “I’m glad you did, son.”
Andrew took his father’s hand in a tight grip. “Don’t scare me like

that ever again.”

“I didn’t mean to.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Here.” Eddie pushed a visitor chair up next to the bed so Andrew

could sit. “Why don’t you guys talk for a bit? I could use some coffee.
You want some?”

“Sure.” Andrew nodded. He glanced up at Eddie. “Thank you so

much. You’re—”

“It’s fine. I’m glad I could help.” Eddie headed for the door. To

Reese he said, “Glad you’re okay, Reese. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I don’t suppose you could bring me a cup of coffee?” Reese asked.
“Don’t you dare.” Andrew waved Eddie off.
As Eddie left, a man entered the room wearing a lab coat over plain

green scrubs. He introduced himself as Dr. Salazar and shook hands with
Reese and then Andrew.

“So, Reese,” he said. “Your blood sugar was critically low, and

you appear to be very dehydrated. That's a pretty dangerous combination.
Can I ask you some questions?”

Reese nodded. “Sure.”

“It says you have no current medical conditions. Is that right? Not

taking medication for anything?"

"Nothing except aspirin and the occasional cold remedy, no."
"When was the last time you had a physical?"
Reese avoided Andrew’s gaze. "I don't exactly know. Not for a

while."

"Have you lost weight recently?”
“I don’t weigh myself. Maybe.”
Dr. Salazar turned to Andrew. “Does it seem to you he’s losing

weight?”

“You seem thinner to me, Dad.” Andrew hadn’t actually seen Reese

in months. They’d only talked on the phone. Guilt made him flush deeply.
“Your clothes did look a little baggy on you.”

“So.” The doctor nodded and made notes. “Tell me, what was going

on today? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“We were working in the yard.” Andrew met his dad’s gaze.

“Maybe we overdid it.”

“I can handle a little work," Reese said irritably.
“Have you been excessively thirsty lately?” asked the doctor.

“Have you had cuts or bruises that are slow to heal?”

Andrew put all that together. “You think Dad’s diabetic?”
“I’m not diabetic. I’d know, wouldn’t I? Fat people get diabetes.

People who eat sugary foods all the time.”

“Anyone can get diabetes,” Dr. Salazar told him. “Did anyone in

your immediate family have a history of it?”

“I don’t know. I’m adopted.”
Andrew stared at his father in shock. “You’re kidding.”
“What? You knew I was adopted.”
Andrew shook his head. “Uh, no, I don’t think I did.”
“Whatever.” Reese sidestepped that. “You know you’re not

adopted, right?”

Andrew gazed into a face so much like his it could have been an

age-progressed photograph. “I got the memo.”

“So it’s not a big deal.”
“Not if it isn’t a big deal to you.” Andrew’s mind reeled. It wasn’t

every day a man learned something like the fact his father was adopted.
“It isn’t, is it?”

“No.” Reese shrugged. “The people who raised me were my

parents, end of story.”

Dr. Salazar spoke into the awkward silence forming between them.

“We’re going to keep you overnight and run some tests in the morning. If
your blood sugar is fluctuating wildly enough for you to go into a
hypoglycemic tailspin like that, it’s significant. Untreated diabetes would
be one obvious cause, but there are others. We’ll talk about those if we
need to after we run the tests.”

“Crap.” Reese turned his face away.
“Rest now. We’ll get this sorted.” Dr. Salazar shook their hands and

then left them alone again.

“I can’t help wondering what would have happened if we hadn’t

gotten to you in—”

“But you did. You did get there in time.”
“We found you in the dining room. What if you’d been upstairs?

There’s no way the EMTs could have gotten up there with all their gear.
What if I hadn’t called? If I hadn’t been worrying about how we left
things off.”

“You were worried?” Reese pressed his lips together. They seemed

dry, and Andrew got his water and then held the cup so Reese could sip
it. He swallowed. “No need to worry, son. I’ll be fine.”

“If you take better care of yourself.”
Reese nodded. “I will.”
“I can’t believe you never told me you were adopted.”
Reese lifted a shoulder. “Never mattered much to me.”
“Still.”
“You know what?” Reese moistened his lips. He looked more tired

than Andrew had ever seen him. Older than his years and then some.
“My whole life, I never looked like anyone in my family, and then you
came along, and it was like…for the first time, I belonged somewhere.
Someone belonged to me by blood.”

Andrew’s eyes burned. “Dad…”
“Of course, you look like your mother too. You have her build. But

your ugly mug, that’s strictly Daley stuff. Well, my stuff. No one’s ever
going to doubt you’re my son. No one can take that away from me.”

“That right.” Andrew took his father’s hand again. “You’re stuck

with me.”

“Yet now, you’re ashamed of me.”
The words hit Andrew ten times harder for being even marginally

true. “I’m not.” Liar.

“I saw it on your face all day. It was agonizing for you to let your

friends see you with me…with the house that way.”

“That’s—”
“I don’t really even know how it got that way, B—Andrew. One

day just went by after another.” Reese’s eyes shimmered with tears. “It
got easier to tell myself I was holding on to things to sell them. Keeping
the plastic recyclables and old electronics to take them to the center all
at once…or…I don’t even know anymore.”

“I understand. It’s a compulsion, Dad.”
Reese shook his head. “It’s not that I even want all that crap. But

when it comes to getting rid of it, I get this awful feeling in my gut like
I’m having a heart attack. I get dizzy like if I let go of any of it, something
terrible will happen.”

The door opened, and Andrew glanced up to see Eddie return to the

room with two coffee cups.

“Here.” He offered one to Andrew.
“Thank you.” Andrew held the hot brew without sipping it.
“Now you’re just torturing me,” Reese joked. “You’re a teacher.

Don’t you know you’re supposed to bring enough for everyone?”

“We should go so you can get some rest,” said Andrew. “We can

talk more tomorrow.”

“I need to talk to Eddie here for a minute. You think we can have

some time alone?”

Andrew shot a questioning glance at Eddie, who nodded. He turned

back to his father. “Sure.”

“I’ll see you later.”
“Tomorrow, first thing.” Andrew nodded. “I’ll be here.”
“I’ll see you then.” Reese smiled wanly. “We’ll talk more.”

EDDIE WATCHED ANDREW leave the room. When he turned

back to Reese, he didn’t know what to expect.

“I guess I gave you two a scare?”
“Yeah, you did.” Eddie sat on the chair at Reese’s bedside, holding

his coffee between his hands.

“I want to thank you for what you did today.” Reese’s eyes—so

much like Andrew’s—sought his. “I don’t mean helping with the
cleanup, but of course that too. I mean how you said we have something
in common. I never really thought about being wired differently.”

Eddie couldn’t help imagining Andrew at Reese’s age. He liked

what he saw a lot. “I had a teacher who helped me see that being
different wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. You work with what you have.”

“I don’t want to fight all the time. I want to get rid of things. I just

get…it’s like…I can’t even describe it. It’s like you’re holding a loaded
gun to my head, saying, ‘Make a decision, keep or toss,’ and I freeze
up.”

“I’m sorry, Reese. I never meant to make you feel that way.”
“I know. And I don’t blame Andrew for wanting it clean. I’ve

become his crazy relation.”

“That’s not true.”
“I saw how ashamed he was to introduce me to your friends and

family.”

Eddie remained silent. He’d seen it too.
“I can’t do this,” Reese said tiredly. “The house is a pigsty, and

apparently I’m mentally ill. It’s too much. It’s too—”

“You’re not going to do it alone,” Eddie reminded him.
“Andrew walked away from all this a long time ago. He expects me

to change everything overnight, and if I don’t, he’ll wash his hands of
me.”

“He won’t.”
“He’s ashamed of me.” Reese turned away. “Ashamed to be around

me.”

“He doesn’t understand.”
Reese eyed him. “But you do, don’t you?”

“Before I was diagnosed with dyslexia, my parents used to get this

look when I brought home a progress report or another failed test. I was
a kid, and all I saw was how disappointed they were in me. I
understand.”

“But you got help, and things were different, right?”
“I don’t know if they ever stopped seeing me as defective,” Eddie

admitted. “They only accepted there was a reason for my flaw. They’re
proud of me for overcoming it.”

“Oh, son.” Reese gripped the bed rail.
“I don’t know if Andrew will ever get it. I don’t know if it’s

possible for him to put himself in your shoes. He loves you very much.
He wants what’s best for you. He wants a relationship.”

“He thinks I’m being an ass.”
“Maybe.” Eddie shot Reese a rueful grin. “On top of that, he

worries he’ll turn out just like you.”

“He does?”
Eddie nodded.
“Christ.” Reese let his hand drop to the mattress with a thud. “No

wonder he doesn’t want to hang around me.”

“Pam will remind him OCD isn’t contagious.”
“But it is genetic, isn’t it?”
“So?” Eddie shrugged. “He’ll have to learn along with you what to

do about it.”

Daley eyed him for a while thoughtfully. “You’re the first man he

ever brought home, did you know that?”

“I am?” That was such a surprise Eddie’s heart gave a little lurch of

pleasure.

“Just so you know, I approve.”
Eddie got to his feet and held out his hand. Reese took it warmly.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you, Eddie Vasquez. You were a big help today.”
“Call on me anytime.”
“God, don’t say that to a needy old bastard like me.”
“Get some sleep, Reese.” Eddie couldn’t stop himself from lifting

and smoothing Reese’s rumpled sheet. “I’m taking your son back to his

place. He’ll be back here in the morning.”

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?”
“Count on it.” Eddie waved before he exited the room. He found

Andrew waiting in the corridor. “It’s official; your dad likes me.”

“Glad to hear it.”
“Ready to go?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll take you to your place, and we’ll scrap the plans for going

back to mine.” Eddie put his arm around Andrew’s shoulders. They
headed for the elevator together unhurriedly. “Tired?”

“Exhausted. I don’t know how I’m even keeping my eyes open.”
“You won’t have to when we get to my car.”
Andrew stopped suddenly. “Wait. Aren’t people supposed to meet

us at my dad’s place tomorrow? Shouldn’t we—”

“I sent Gabe a text earlier. Told him I’d call in the morning. He’ll

get in touch with everyone. You’ll have to contact Pam.”

“You’ve thought of everything. Thank you.”
Eddie shrugged that off when they entered the elevator car. It was

empty, so he took the opportunity to pull Andrew in for a gentle kiss.
Their lips touched, and instead of sparking passion, it was pure comfort.
Warmth and a sense of coming home. “You’ve had a pretty big day.”

“Yeah.” Andrew’s head seemed to tuck neatly under Eddie’s chin

when they stood that way. He was the perfect height for them to fit
together like puzzle pieces. “I wish I hadn’t taken time off last week. I
need to be here for Dad now.”

“They’ll probably release him tomorrow. Nobody stays in the

hospital for any length of time these days.”

“Your friend Mrs. Henderson did.”
“That was different. She had neurological problems and nowhere to

go. No one to take care of her. Reese is far more functional than that.”

“How can you say that? You saw how he functions.” The elevator

came to a halt on the ground level. Eddie and Andrew exited and headed
for the parking garage. “He lives in a rat’s nest with actual rats.”

“Andrew—”
“I’m going to need your guys to come and just clear the place out

tomorrow, I guess. Get as far as we can.”

Eddie stopped where he was, but Andrew kept on walking. “What

do you mean?” Eddie had to quicken his pace to catch up.

“He said he doesn’t even know why he does it. He said he doesn’t

even want all the crap he’s keeping.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just go in there and get rid of it for

him.”

“My dad can’t be allowed to live like that anymore. His health is at

stake. We’ve done things his way for far too long.”

“You can’t just take over.”
“Oh, can’t I?” Irritation showed plainly on Andrew’s face. “This

thing he has—this hoarding—whether it’s treatable or not is causing him
to get sick. You saw his kitchen. What the hell has he even been living
on? It’s not okay.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but he’s not a child. You can’t just take

over his life and make decisions for him.”

“I can if it’s in his best interest.”
Eddie hid his shock and said nothing. For the moment, he thought a

tactical retreat would be best. Maybe a few hours’ sleep would help
Andrew see taking over wasn’t the best strategy.

They stepped out of the hospital’s brightly lit lobby into the

blackness of a misty night. Security lights glowed a sulfurous yellow,
sapping color from the blue and green cars. Eddie’s red convertible
stood out like a beacon, and they headed for it.

Eddie opened the door for Andrew and then went around to the

driver’s side in silence. It was too late, and he was too tired to be
arguing. He’d certainly say the wrong thing. They were both wrung out.
Eddie glanced at Andrew before keying the ignition.

Andrew is worried about his dad.
Maybe he didn’t realize how harsh his words were.
Maybe he didn’t understand what a bonehead move it would be to

clean Reese’s place out without his permission.

Eddie pulled out of the space and then the parking lot, out onto the

road.

“I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

“That’s fine.” Eddie snuck a look at him. “It’s been one hell of a

long day.”

“You probably think I’m ultrahigh maintenance.” Andrew laid his

head back on the headrest. “I’m really not.”

At the first stoplight they came to, Eddie saw Andrew’s eyelids

were closed. “Just rest for now.”

Eddie didn’t think Andrew even heard him. At the next stoplight, he

looked over to find Andrew sound asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Six

At eight a.m., Andrew’s alarm went off. For a minute, he didn’t

know why he was in his house and not Eddie’s, where he’d expected to
be. Then he remembered picking up his car from Eddie’s place. Eddie‘d
followed him home. Andrew had fallen asleep almost before he’d made
it to his bed.

Andrew reached out. When he found the bed beside him empty, he

experienced an acute sense of loss.

Facts drifted back to him. His dad’s cleanup, going to Eddie’s for

dinner, trying and failing to raise his dad on the phone, and finally
finding his dad on the floor of his house, unconscious.

He shoved the covers off and got up. He was only wearing briefs.

He’d solve the mystery of his disappearing clothes another time. A
second glance at the clock made him quicken his pace.

I should be at the hospital. I should be—
“I thought you might like coffee.” Eddie stood in the bedroom

doorway, fully dressed. He looked like he’d showered. His hair, damp
and slightly wavy, curled endearingly behind his ears. He held out
Andrew’s World’s Best Teacher mug.

“God, yes.” Taking the cup carefully from Eddie, Andrew inhaled

the delicious aroma. “When I woke up, I couldn’t even remember how I
got here.”

“You let me walk you in here, and then you passed out before I even

got your clothes off. You were pretty compliant.”

“I must have been asleep if I was compliant.”
“I guess.” Eddie agreed. “I got in touch with Gabe earlier.”
“Did you tell him we’re going to press on today?” Andrew put the

cup down on his dresser and searched the drawers for some old clothes.
He came up with a pair of jeans that were too large and a torn T-shirt.
“I’ll go check on my dad, and then I can meet you at his place. I don’t
know how far we’ll get, but I’ll bet we can make a lot of progress if he’s
not there to hang on to every single thing.”

Eddie leaned against the door frame, hands in his pockets. “We

can’t do that, Andrew.”

“What?” Andrew stilled in the middle of pulling his jeans up over

his hips. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I mean, Grime can’t legally do that.”
“I don’t understand. You don’t have to do this as a public service.”

Andrew did up his fly. He picked up his wallet and keys from the
dresser and dropped them into his pockets. “I’ll pay you the going rate. I
intended to pay you all along, but the ball got rolling and we never had a
chance to have that conversation. You know I’d never ask you to—”

“It’s not about money. You’re going about things in the wrong way.

Your dad is in the hospital and—”

“He’s in the hospital because of his hoarding,” Andrew said

angrily. “Someone needs to step in and make his house safe.”

“That may be true, but you can’t go in there and clear it out without

his consent.”

“Why the hell not?”
“You have no legal right, for one thing,” Eddie pointed out. “It’s

your dad’s home, and unless you’re on the deed to the property, you have
no right to do anything with it. You don’t even have a key.”

“We broke the lock on the back door last night. I can get in. Once

I’m there, I’ll take his keys.”

“Why would you do that?” Eddie asked. “He’ll be home soon

enough, and then you can get back to work.”

“He obviously can’t do this himself.” Why was Eddie arguing about

this? “You saw proof of that with your own eyes.”

“What I saw is a man with a problem that’s not going away just

because you clean his house.”

“What do you suggest? My dad got sick because of that house. I’m

supposed to stand by and let him get sicker?”

“The house is a symptom,” Eddie argued. “You should call Pam and

talk to her about your plans.”

“Of course I’ll call her.” Andrew yanked his T-shirt over his head.

“She needs to know my dad’s in the hospital. But I have the whole day,
and I’m not going to waste it. This needs to be done. If you don’t help
me, I’ll just call those junk people and—”

“For God’s sake, Andrew. It needs to be done at your dad’s pace,

not yours.”

“You saw his pace.” Andrew smoothed his T-shirt down over his

body. It had been a freebie from a school event and was way too big.
“His pace is what got him in that situation in the first place.”

“He did very well yesterday.”
“He can’t go back to that house the way it is.” Andrew pulled a pair

of socks from a drawer. “There’s no kitchen right now.”

“Agreed,” Eddie said quietly. “He needs a working refrigerator and

fresh food.”

“So what do you suggest?”
“Why not bring him here?”
“I don’t know if he’d come.”
“But it seems like a good solution, at least until he’s better. You

could look out for him.”

“Yeah, and he could start bringing his crap to my house.”
“Not if you don’t let him.”
“That’s not the point.” Andrew scrubbed his face with his hands.

“Why is it so difficult for you to understand? He has a nice house. He
just needs it cleaned out. We have an opportunity here.”

“I disagree. Your dad has to make his own decisions. He isn’t a

child.”

“Even if he’s acting like one?”
“There’s a lot of that going around.” Eddie’s gaze swept down. “It

seems.”

Andrew backed up. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“What did you mean by it?”
Eddie exhaled a deep breath. “You’re latching on to an instant fix

for this. You’re not looking beyond that for a real solution.”

Andrew gripped the top of the dresser. “Won’t cleaning that house

solve the most immediate problem, which is how to keep my father
healthy?”

“Won’t it also hurt your relationship with your dad?”
Andrew chewed his lip. “Maybe.”
“Bottom line, which is more important?” Eddie met his gaze

squarely.

When Andrew didn’t answer, Eddie’s expression changed to one of

bitter disappointment.

“I can’t believe you don’t know the answer to that,” Eddie said

finally.

“Wait—”
“No. You wait. I talked to your father yesterday. He feels bad

enough. He knows you’re ashamed of him.”

“I am not ashamed of him. I simply hate the way he lives.”
“You act like you can’t bear to be around him.” Eddie pulled his

hands from his pockets and spread them wide. “Try to see it from his
point of view. You retreat a little bit each time you have to introduce him
to someone. How’s he supposed to feel?”

“It’s not—”
“And you don’t use the name he gave you.”
“My mother called me Andrew.” He frowned. “I—”
“I don’t know what’s going on between you, but even I can see your

problems go deeper than the house he lives in.”

Andrew exploded at that. “We’ve only been going out a goddamn

week, Eddie. You don’t get to come in here after a week and tell me
that.”

“I know.” Eddie shrank from Andrew’s anger. “I should go.”
“Wait.”
“No.” Eddie picked up his keys from the table. “I have my own

problems.”

Andrew blocked Eddie’s retreat. “What does that mean?”
“Let’s agree to disagree.”
“What? You’re just going to walk out now? You’re not even going

to—”

“I am defective, just like your dad.” Eddie spat out. “I have a

tangled-up brain, and I have to work hard to function normally. I don’t
see a whole lot of difference between my situation and Reese’s, you
know?”

“Wait.” Andrew stepped back. “They’re not even vaguely

comparable.”

“Of course they are. The fact you can’t see that is part of the

problem.”

“What?” Andrew had no idea what Eddie was going on about. “It

isn’t.”

“My parents love me in spite of my defects. I don’t want to be loved

in spite of anything. I’m fine the way I goddamn am.”

“Is that why you never even mentioned your dyslexia to me? Even

though we went to see a foreign film with subtitles?”

“I couldn’t get a word in edgewise that night.”
“You didn’t want me to know,” Andrew accused. “How do you

have room to talk if you have a problem simply telling people you have
dyslexia?”

“All right. It’s my problem, and I deal with it every day. Maybe I

didn’t want to blurt it out. Should I wear a badge? If found, please return
to Mrs. Vasquez on Poplar Lane?”

“Eddie.” All Andrew’s breath rushed out at that.
“Your dad doesn’t want to be tolerated. He doesn’t need anyone

fixing him.” Eddie’s gaze pierced Andrew. “Especially not someone
who’s ashamed of him. He needs to figure out what he has to do to
function, and to be honest, you’re not someone he can learn that from.”

“Eddie, wait—”
“If you throw his things away, you violate his trust. How will you

ever come back from that?”

Andrew shook his head. “I’m not trying to violate anyone’s trust. I

just want to help.”

“You want to fix him instead of loving him for who he is. Instead of

trusting him to fix himself,” Eddie said, breathing hard. “Maybe this is
too personal for me. I can’t do what you want me to do. I’m sorry.”

Andrew watched in stunned silence as Eddie left his apartment. He

seemed to take all the warmth, all the color and air, all the life with him.

“Shit.” Andrew sank down into a chair at his kitchen table. “Shit,

shit, shit.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Eddie entered the Grime warehouse from the front. He passed by

the reception area and went straight into his office. Once he got there, he
slammed the door.

A few minutes later, Gabe poked his head in. “Whoa, man. You

wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“No.” Eddie fumed. “I can’t say that about some other people I

know.”

“What’s up?”
“I’m an idiot.” Eddie leaned back in his chair. “That’s what.”
Gabe sat in Eddie’s visitor chair and stuck his feet up on the table.

“Tell Uncle Gabe all about it.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Eddie grabbed his reading pen.

“Andrew wanted to go over and clean out the rest of his dad’s place
today.”

“Didn’t you say his dad’s in the hospital?”
“Yeah.”
“So?” Gabe waited.
“It’s complicated. I started out by telling him we couldn’t do

anything without the property owner’s say-so, but it turned into an
argument about…” Eddie fiddled with his reading pen. “It’s nothing.”

“About what?”
“That’s just it. I’m not sure what it was about.” Eddie tapped the

pen on the desk irritably. “I said I thought he ought to trust his father to
work at his own pace, and he said he wanted to fix things, and before
you know it I was talking about dyslexia and my folks and—”

Eddie closed his eyes, trying to block out Gabe’s intense gaze. “He

all but accused me of being ashamed of my learning disability.”

Gabe was silent longer than Eddie liked. “You go an awfully long

way to hide it.”

“Not because I’m ashamed of it.”
“No?”
“Of course not.” Eddie got up and stalked to the door to look out

into the hall. “After all these years you have to ask me that?”

“Maybe I do, since you hid the fact that you’re dyslexic from the guy

you’re dating.”

“I did no such thing. I didn’t hide it.”
“Why didn’t you tell him then? I mean before the big reveal at his

dad’s place.”

“Why? I don’t know why.”
“Why don’t you use your reading pen in restaurants? Why do you do

that elaborate thing every morning with the color-coded schedules?”

Eddie turned. “I do my job in the way that suits me best. Isn’t that

what I’m supposed to do? Adapt? What is wrong with that?”

“Maybe to someone from the outside, someone who doesn’t know

you, it looks like you’re hiding the fact that you can’t read.”

“I can read,” Eddie practically shouted. “Just not the way you do,

and big fucking deal. If I get the information I need, who the hell cares
how I get it.”

“You do,” Gabe said softly. “Obviously.”
Whatever animated Eddie suddenly left him standing there heartsick

—worn out with shock.

“Can that be true?” He returned to his desk and sat down. Picked up

his OCR pen. Put it down again. “Am I still that kid?”

Gabe leaned forward. “I think we’re all the things we ever were, all

bound up like dollar bills in a wad of cash with a rubber band around it.
Somewhere inside, you’re waiting for everyone to call you ‘short bus’
again.”

“Fuck you.” Eddie threw his pen at Gabe, who caught it neatly.
“Careful, that’s a spendy toy.”
“I am not embarrassed by my learning disability.”
“You weren’t, until you started dating Andrew. Is it because he’s a

teacher? Do you think he’ll hold you to a higher standard?”

Eddie shrugged. “You saw his dad’s place. They live for books.

Everyone he knows is all eruditer than thou…”

“But it’s like you said, you can read. You’re not some dancing bear,

Eddie. You’re a savvy guy. What did you think he was going to say?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought he’d say we had nothing in common

since I don’t read books the way he does. I just wanted to let him get to

know me, before—”

“You have nothing to prove, Eddie. Not even to a teacher.

Especially not to a teacher who looks at you like you’re the last glass of
clean, cold water and he’s dying of thirst.”

“His dad’s got a PhD.”
“And a house full of empty two-liter soda bottles and cockroaches.

Everyone’s got something, Eddie. Even guys with advanced degrees
have problems. It’s the nature of being human. What do you want?”

“I want someone to love me without all that fine print.”
“You were born with the fine print.” Gabe sighed. “When are you

going to believe it doesn’t matter as much as you think it does? You’ve
got to believe people can see past it.”

Eddie nodded at that. Swallowed.
“What kind of man do you think Professor Hot Stuff is? He’s

probably got pretty good distance vision.”

Eddie huffed a soft laugh. “Maybe.”
“If not, I can hook him up with a pair of binoculars. We’ve got some

around here somewhere.”

“I should figure out a way to apologize, huh?”
“I don’t know. Do you feel like you need to?”
“Yeah.” Eddie thumbed his lower lip. “At least for making the

situation about me when he’s so worried about his dad.”

“All right then.” Gabe stood. “What are you waiting here for?”
“What about you? What are you doing here so early on a Sunday

when there’s nothing on the schedule?”

“I’m meeting a friend for breakfast, if you must know.”
“Would that friend be a certain Detective Dave Huntley?”
“Maybe.” Gabe flushed. “You want to come with us?”
“And be the third wheel? I don’t think so.”
“It’s not like that with Dave and me.”
“Then you’d better get working on it, huh?”
“I’ve been working on it for half my life.” Gabe shrugged. “It’s not

like I figure it’s ever going to happen now. Whatever, man.”

“Someday he’ll be ready,” Eddie promised. “And you’ll be right

there waiting.”

“Right.” Gabe headed for his office. “There are probably a million

pop songs all about that.”

Eddie sat in his office for a while, even after Gabe left to meet

Dave.

He thought about his disastrous morning.
Was it true? Was he still living with his fear of what people might

say?

Out and proud was one thing, but then he hid his disability.
He’d always thought of that as a choice, but maybe…maybe he was

embarrassed by it. Maybe he had too much baggage of his own to pass
any kind of judgment on Andrew.

Maybe Andrew was embarrassed by his dad’s house, but that didn’t

mean he was ashamed of his father.

Eddie had taken that too far—he’d let the facts get clouded by

personal biases. He needed to apologize for letting the argument become
about him, about them, when they were really talking about Andrew’s
father all along, and what was important was how they could help him.

Eddie tried Andrew’s cell, but it went straight to voice mail. He

hoped that was only because Andrew hadn’t charged it, and not because
he’d missed his opportunity to make amends.

Before Eddie left the office, he made a call to Skippy. Hopefully, he

might want to earn a few extra bucks again, even though it was Sunday.

Then Eddie got his keys and locked the office back up. He headed

for the parking lot with a new determination in each step. With any luck,
he’d be able to stop Andrew from digging Reese out of his problems at
the cost of their relationship.

* * * *

When Eddie got to Reese’s house, he found Andrew sitting on the

front steps. He walked up the pathway and stopped right in front of him.

Andrew looked up, shading his eyes from the sun’s bright glare.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d come by and see how you were doing.”
“How does it look like I’m doing?” Andrew grumbled. “I got here,

took one look, and decided to sit down and cry.”

“I don’t see any tears.”

“I’m the crying-on-the-inside kind. On the outside, I like to maintain

a facade of mute fury.”

Eddie sat beside him. He folded his hands between his knees to

keep from pulling Andrew into his arms. “I’m sorry about this morning.”

Andrew turned to him. “For what?”
“For making things about me. For drawing a parallel between

what’s happening with your dad and my situation. It wasn’t helpful.”

“You were right though.”
“I don’t deny it.” Eddie leaned over and buffeted Andrew with his

shoulder.

Andrew pushed back. “Tell me how I can help him then. I want to

torch this place. I want to bring in a bulldozer and flatten it. I want to do
the same to my apartment right now because I see the straight line
leading from my place to his. I want to throw everything I own away and
go live with mountain gorillas.”

“Don’t do that to yourself. Battle one demon at a time.”
“I never met a book I didn’t like. Didn’t want. I hate letting go of

books if I’ve enjoyed them. I’ll buy a book on sale even if there’s not the
slightest chance in hell I might someday read it. I can see it all so
clearly, all the ways my dad and I are alike.” Andrew frowned. “Did you
know he was adopted and he never told me? As far as he’s concerned,
I’m the only person on earth who shares his DNA.”

“Great.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “No pressure, right.”
Andrew laughed at that, and then his expression turned serious.

“God, you always make me laugh.”

“Do I?”
“Yeah. That’s what drew me to you in the first place. Your sense of

humor. How you use it to make others feel good about themselves.”

“I don’t know about that.”
“I used to wish you’d look at me like you look at Lucy.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow at that. “I’m not sure I understand what

you mean.”

“Like having me around is awesome.”
Eddie held his breath. “That could be arranged.”
“My dad is going to be released from the hospital later today, and

he can’t come back here with the place like it is.”

“No, he can’t,” Eddie agreed. “That much is obvious.”
“He won’t come to my place. He refused to even consider that.”

Andrew took Eddie’s hand in his. “Tell me what I should do here,
Eddie. I’m out of my depth. Help me think of a solution.”

“I thought of something this morning. It’s a little unusual…”
“Tell me, Eddie. I’m all ears.” Andrew wrapped his arms around

Eddie’s neck and gave him a rough hug. “For the first time in my life, I’m
ready to put myself in someone else’s hands, and I can’t think of anyone
I’d trust more than I trust you.”

Eddie smiled at that. “See? Now, that’s awesome. Having you

around is awesome.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The streetlamps were just starting to illuminate Reese’s quiet cul-

de-sac as Skippy finally rolled down and locked the back of the Grime
truck. He smiled at Eddie, richer by a couple hundred bucks.

“See you bright and early tomorrow, Boss.” He waved and got into

the cab, pulling away from the curb just as Andrew drove up with Reese.

Eddie waved good-bye to Skippy and welcomed Andrew and

Reese. They’d worked hard all day, and now it was time to see if what
they’d done paid off.

Reese emerged from Andrew’s car and eyed his house warily.

“What did you guys do?”

“Nothing you didn’t give us permission to do, Dad,” said Andrew.

Eddie frowned at how tired he sounded. “The trash is gone.”

“I feel apprehensive.” Reese stopped where he was and sought out

Eddie’s gaze.

“It’s fine. I promise,” Eddie reassured him. “Go on in.”
“I wouldn’t put it past Andrew to empty the place out while I was

gone. He’s been wanting to gut the place and fix it up for years.”

“We had an agreement, and we stuck to it,” Andrew said. “Come

around back, so you can see we took care of the yard. When they inspect
tomorrow, they won’t have a thing to complain about.”

Reese let Andrew lead him through the back gate. Sure enough, all

the things they’d staged in the yard had been removed. “What did you do
with it all?”

“We used the space we gained by throwing out recyclables. I don’t

have to tell you, it’s a temporary solution. Pam’s going to call first thing
tomorrow to make an ongoing plan for therapy.”

“I see.” Reese glanced around. “The yard looks good.”
“Skippy raked the leaves and trimmed up some.”
“Thank you.” Reese frowned. “Do I dare look inside the house?”
“I’m going to need you to close your eyes for that, Dad.” Andrew

stepped up and took his arm. “Go on. Close them.”

“Now you’ve got me worried. Ed?”
“I’m here.” Eddie took Reese’s other arm. “Everything we did is

within the scope of our agreement.”

“But after last night, we had to change our plans a little,” Andrew

admitted.

“You need a healthy place to live, Reese,” Eddie reminded him.
“What did you do?” Reese’s voice had gone tight with strain.
“Keep your eyes closed.” Andrew and Eddie led Reese into his

kitchen. “Wait until I get the lights… There. Open.”

Reese opened his eyes and looked around.
Andrew and Eddie glanced at each other. The kitchen was as clean

as they could get it. They’d purchased a midsize refrigerator and
microwave. A toaster gleamed on the counter. Plates and silverware had
been washed and sat in a strainer on the sink.

“This is nice.” Reese ran his hand over the battered laminate

counter. Eddie and Andrew had set up a small table and two chairs in
one corner, and beyond, it through the pocket door, it was obvious they’d
cleaned out the downstairs bathroom.

“The bathroom down here is clean too.” The three of them went into

the tiny three-quarter bath together. Andrew showed Reese how they’d
emptied the drawers and filled them with clean towels and grooming
supplies: shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste, clippers, scissors, and a first-
aid kit. The shower was clean and clutter free.

“You have everything you need in the bathroom down here.”
“That’s…real nice, son.” Reese turned to Eddie, who, because of

space considerations, had stepped back out into the kitchen. “You didn’t
have to do this. I have things upstairs.”

“Just for now, I’d rather you were down here,” Andrew said

cautiously. “Until we’re sure you have your blood sugar under control.”

“But…”
“Come with me, and I’ll show you what else we did.”
“All right.” Reese followed Andrew to what had been the dining

room but was clearly a bedroom now. There was a twin-size bed, and a
colorful cardboard set of drawers served as a nightstand. A recliner sat
in the opposite corner next to a hamper full of clean clothes. “Wait, what
—”

“Before you say anything.” Andrew held his hand up. “We’re sorry

if this seems high-handed. I just need to know that while you’re working
with Pam, you have somewhere safe to sleep and good food to eat. Clean
clothes. I need to know you’re okay, so I don’t worry about you all the
time.”

“God damn it, Boston.” Reese’s pale face reddened. “You didn’t

used to worry about me. I’m not some old guy who can’t take care of
himself.”

“I did worry about you—every single day,” Andrew pointed out.

“But since you were such a stubborn old bastard and my worrying didn’t
do any good, I just stayed angry all the time.”

“Aw, son.” Reese frowned. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.

I’m fine.”

“This is how it has to be. You want to have a relationship? Well

then, you take care of yourself. I don’t care if you never fix up the rest of
the house, but if this part I cleaned out gets to looking like the city dump
again, I’m coming back with a bulldozer. I swear to God.”

“All right.” Reese chuckled. He wrapped his arm around Andrew

and knuckled his head. “All right. Tough guy.”

Eddie went to the sink and washed his hands. “I propose you two

grab something to drink, and I’ll start dinner.”

“You going to cook for me, Eddie?” Reese asked. Delight lit his

features when he turned to Andrew. “He cooks?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t actually gotten that far yet,” said

Andrew.

“Well, he knows all our darkest secrets, so I guess you got far

enough.”

“I hope I don’t know all your secrets. You should save something

back for later.” Eddie held out a bowl of salad he’d made earlier.
“Dressing is in the fridge. Andrew said you like Italian?”

“Yes.” Reese took the salad and retrieved the dressing. He glanced

at the bottle of red wine on the counter. “This is service. Do I get a glass
of wine?”

“Did the doctor say you can have a glass of wine?” Andrew asked.
“I had more tests today than I took in college. I have appointments to

follow up with a GP and a whole bunch of other people. For now, I think
one glass of red wine won’t kill me as long as I eat my salad with it.”

“Did they give you any kind of diet guide?”
“It’s all in the bag I got discharged with.”
Andrew picked up his bag and headed out to the patio table with it.

“Let’s eat outside. I’ll read this over while we’re waiting on dinner.”

“It’s nothing fancy,” Eddie said. “I’ll bring it out there when it’s

ready.”

Andrew nodded and closed the door between the house and the

yard. His father stood where he was, staring at the yard for such a long
time, Andrew asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“For what? Helping me?”
Andrew shrugged. “For taking over.”
“You didn’t take over. You helped out when I needed you.” Reese

sat down, still eyeing the garden. “This is nice. It’s almost like it used to
be when your mom was still with us.”

Andrew put the salad on the table between them and started setting

the table while Reese opened the wine. “I wanted to come here today
and have everything hauled away while you were gone.”

“I figured you’d do exactly that. Why didn’t you? Today was your

big chance.”

“Eddie.” Andrew glanced into the kitchen. Eddie shifted from foot

to foot as if he were dancing. He was chopping onions, tossing them into
a hot pan. Steam rose up in clouds, misting his face as he worked. It was
almost hard to look at him. He was such a decent guy. “He wouldn’t let
me betray your trust like that.”

“He’s a keeper, Andrew.”
“I know that.” Andrew smiled at Eddie through the window. Eddie

waved. “Anyway, I argued with him. I told him I’d do it, but when he got
here, he found me sitting on the steps. I just couldn’t do that to you.”

“If you had, it would have been okay.”
“No, it wouldn’t. You’d have—”
“No.” Reese put his hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “If you never

listen to another goddamn thing I say, listen now. Yesterday scared me. I
remember feeling sick. Going down. I remember thinking, ‘Oh, my God,
is this how it’s going to be?’ After a fight with you, I’m going to just die
here on my mound of garbage? I’d rather have you in my life than

anything. Any thing.”

“Dad.” Andrew scooted his chair over to give his dad a hug. He hid

his face in the shoulder of his dad’s soft V-neck T-shirt and croaked, “I
missed you too.”

“Aw, Andrew.” The old man was crying, and as uncomfortable as it

made Andrew feel, he hung on and listened, really listened to his dad
when he said, “You’re more important than anything. You don’t have to
stay away anymore. I’ll make this right. I’ve missed you so much, son.”

Andrew’s throat tightened. “It’s all right. I’m here now.”
“I’m sorry I lost my way, Boston. Andrew. Whatever the hell you’re

calling yourself these days.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, call me Boston if you want. I just kept Andrew

because Mom used to call me that. I miss her. She made the name
Andrew feel like it stood for something wonderful and I—”

“I miss her too. I miss her so goddamned much.” Reese nodded. He

wiped his face with a napkin and glanced away.

“We’re starting over from right now.” Andrew cleared his throat.

“I’ll even watch a Red Sox game with you if you want. When is baseball
season?”

“Don’t strain yourself, son.” Reese cuffed Andrew’s upper arm

lightly. “It’s baseball season now. That’s why they call it ‘spring
training.’”

“Oh, yeah. They’re the boys of summer, right? It ends with the

October classic.”

Reese stared at him. “Right.”
“Got it.” Andrew laughed. “I don’t pay attention to sports, but in the

spirit of camaraderie, I’ll start cheering for the Boston Red Sox. I’ll
Google the standings tonight.”

“How can you even be my son?”
“The face doesn’t lie, old man.”
“No.” Reese sighed happily. “It doesn’t, does it?”
“You have a half year’s work ahead of you in there.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I am. I’ll put Pam on speed dial. Are you going to help?”

Andrew searched his face for clues. “Do you want my help?”
“Yes. I do. I’m asking for it.” Reese swallowed. “Will you help me

clean up the house?”

Andrew grinned happily. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Reese grinned back. “You and me both.”
They sat in cozy silence until Eddie opened the slider and came out

to join them. “Chicken’s on. Dinner is about fifteen minutes away.”

“Salad, Dad?” Andrew offered his father some salad and then

scooped some onto Eddie’s plate. It was fresh crisp greens and grape
tomatoes, bits of carrot, and broccoli and sliced cucumbers.

Reese said, “I can’t remember the last time anyone cooked in our

kitchen. Smells good.”

“It’s just chicken and rice. Don’t tell my mother, but I take a lot of

shortcuts. Her chicken and rice takes hours.”

“You two must be exhausted.” Reese poured a glass of wine for

each of them, and they raised their glasses in silent appreciation.

“I am tired. I have to be ready for my ducklings tomorrow. The

roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet.”

Reese smiled. “Aristotle.”
Eddie met Andrew’s gaze. “Eat your salad.”
Andrew winked and picked up his fork. Together, the three of them

polished off the salad, and when Eddie brought the main dish out to the
patio, they made short work of that too.

When they returned the plates to the house, Eddie and Andrew

would have started the dishes, but Reese stopped them.

“I remember how to wash dishes.” He pushed the younger men

aside. “I need to turn over a new leaf here. There’s only a pot and a
couple of plates. You two run along.”

“Are you going to be okay here?” Andrew asked, glancing around

once again. “We made up the bed in the dining room, but if you’re not
comfortable there, or it gets too hot in the morning—”

“I’ll be fine, Andrew,” Reese assured him. “I’ll be more

comfortable there than I’ve been in a long time.”

“We could put up blinds instead of the sheers.”
“I’ll be fine.” Reese ushered Andrew and Eddie to the sliding door.

“You’ll still have to go out through the yard, I’m afraid.”

“It’s early days,” said Eddie.
Reese’s brows drew together. “Thank you again, Eddie. For

everything.”

“You’re welcome, Reese.” Eddie held his hand out, and Reese used

it to pull him into a bear hug.

“Don’t be an idiot. We’re a hugging family.”
“All right.” Eddie let go with a light laugh. “I’ll remember that.”
“Night, Dad.” Andrew pulled his father into a warm hug. “I’ll talk

to you during the week.”

“Call anytime.” Reese waved as they made their way to the side

yard and out through the gate.

Andrew was uncharacteristically silent as Eddie walked him to his

car. “You okay?”

“I wish we didn’t have two cars.”
“Are you all right to drive?”
“Sure. One glass of wine with dinner is fine. I sipped.”
“Then—”
“I want you to come home with me.”
“Sure.” Eddie thumbed Andrew’s lower lip. “No problem.”
“Follow me in your car?”
“Happy to.” Eddie held the door open for him, but Andrew didn’t

get in right away. “What?”

“We did everything exactly right.”
“What do you mean?”
“My dad was so happy. Did you see?” Andrew’s eyes glittered in

the glow of the streetlight. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah, it was.”
“Without you, I’d have done everything wrong. Without you, I’d

have ruined things between us, maybe for good.”

“That’s not true. I’m sure it’s not. He loves you. He just needs time

to work through some things.”

“I just want you to know how glad I am you’re in my life, Eddie

Vasquez.” Andrew gripped his lapels and pulled him down for a

scorching, passionate kiss. “Follow me home?”

“Anywhere.” Eddie took Andrew’s face between his hands. His

touch felt featherlight—sensuous and caring. He placed delicate kisses
on the corners of Andrew’s lips, the ridges of his cheekbones, the
underside of his jaw, his earlobes.

“See you at my place?”
“Sure. You know, in my neighborhood someone would have

whistled at us by now or thrown a shoe, but here in Reese’s buttoned-up
cul-de-sac, it’s eerily quiet.”

"Don't you feel all those eyes watching from behind people’s

blinds?”

Eddie glanced around. “Reese’s neighbors sure are nosy.”
“Kiss me like that again.” Andrew’s smile was lazy and sweet.

“Let’s give them something to talk about.”

* * * *

Once they got to Andrew’s house, by mutual, unspoken agreement,

Eddie and Andrew headed for the shower together.

Eddie had a change of clothes with him, so he dropped his sweaty

work clothes onto the floor by Andrew’s hamper. Andrew climbed into
the tub/shower combo first to adjust the water temperature.

Steam billowed out from behind the silky shower curtain. Eddie

could see the silhouette of Andrew’s body behind it. His heart did a
cheerful flip when Andrew pulled the curtain aside and invited him in
with a crook of his finger.

Eddie stepped over the side of the tub and maneuvered up behind

Andrew. Once again he marveled at the man’s perfection—he was lean
and well muscled, exactly the right size.

Eddie rubbed his rough chin over the soft silk of Andrew’s damp

hair and said so. “You fit me perfectly.”

Andrew turned in his arms. “C’mere, you.”
Happily, Eddie leaned in for a kiss. Andrew wound his arms around

Eddie’s neck, and Eddie tightened his around Andrew’s waist. They
devoured each other beneath the spray.

Andrew’s thickening erection bumped and nuzzled a greeting as it

hardened against Eddie’s thigh. Eddie was only vaguely aware of the air

chilling his damp skin as he plundered Andrew’s mouth. He led Andrew
in a half-conscious dance under the spray while they took turns scrubbing
each other’s skin pink.

They rinsed, kissed, and rinsed some more. Eddie stumbled out onto

the bath mat, so turned on he could hardly breathe. Andrew’s hands
snaked around him from behind. His cock insinuated itself between
Eddie’s thighs.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie whispered, holding still for him. “How do you

want me?”

“Any way you want.” Andrew’s light laughter ghosted over Eddie’s

back. “Every way.”

Eddie grabbed a towel and turned around, looping it over Andrew’s

shoulders to catch him. “Gotcha.”

“Yes, you’ve got me.” Andrew’s eyes held a mischievous twinkle.

“Exactly where I want you.”

“Where’s that?” Eddie asked. “Tell me what you need.”
“It’s true.” Andrew searched his expression. “You only lead on the

dance floor.”

“I guess.” Eddie’s face heated. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“Hardly.” Andrew led Eddie to his bedroom and pushed him down

on the bed.

Heart thundering, Eddie rolled over and drew his knees up,

presenting his tight ass for Andrew’s inspection. Andrew did better than
just look at him; he thumbed Eddie’s ass cheeks apart and tickled the
delicate skin with a barrage of quick little kisses. He lapped and sucked,
driving his tongue into Eddie’s tight heat while Eddie flailed and
warbled helplessly into the pillow.

A quick grab for lube and condoms, a brief time-out for preparation,

and then Andrew pushed his cock deep inside Eddie’s clenching heat.
He spread his hands on Eddie’s rosy, passion-stained back, tracing his
muscles, his sheer goddamn perfection with eager fingers.

Eddie pushed back, as eager as a boy with his first lover. He held

himself taut against the rigid invasion, shivering every time Andrew’s
cock grazed his sweet spot. Pleasure so piercingly sweet he could hardly
bear it consumed him. He was all opposites: hot and cold, giving and
taking, weak and strong.

Fearless and apprehensive.
Andrew gave him too much. He was too perfect. Nothing this good

could last, and yet, he wouldn’t trade it, not ever, not for anything in the
world.

Spots of color danced behind Eddie’s eyelids as tension built in his

gut. A searing ball of bliss erupted from his loins, blazing like fire,
shooting thick, hot ribbons of cum from his cock, spattering the sheets,
his thighs, his abs. A jolt of pure pleasure rolled through him, weakening
his muscles enough to drop him like a marionette whose strings had been
cut.

He lay beneath Andrew, thoroughly fucked, thoroughly exhausted,

and still he met each of Andrew’s thrusts with thrilling anticipation.

Yours, yours, yours.
I was made for this, Eddie thought. Made to give just one man all

the pleasure he can bear—and the man I choose is B. Andrew Daley.

Eddie thanked his stars, his ancestors, his God for what he’d found

with Andrew.

Yours, yours, yours.
“God, sweetheart.” Andrew gripped Eddie’s shoulders with both

hands and froze, rigid in his extremity, sobbing his pleasure out loud.
“Eddie. God, Eddie.”

Eddie felt each tremble of Andrew’s muscles over him, each pulse

of his quickening cock inside him like a roll of thunder.

“God.” Andrew collapsed over him, sticky with sweat. His bristly

chin rubbed between Eddie’s shoulder blades. Andrew’s heart thudded
against Eddie’s back, a deep, rhythmic, slowing pace as he regained
control. It went from the boom-boom-boom of timpani to the gentle thud,
thud of simple human connection.

“I love you,” Eddie said simply. “I suppose next to the poems and

plays and masterpieces of fiction I could quote, that’s not saying much. I
suppose—”

“Hush.” Andrew covered Eddie’s mouth with his fingers and then

his lips. After a long, slow kiss, he whispered, “I love you too.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Eddie tapped lightly on the door. “Mrs. Henderson?” He called her

name softly in case she was asleep.

“Come in.” Mrs. Henderson sounded lucid. Eddie hoped they’d

come on one of her good days. He opened the door and poked his head
into the room.

“Hi, Mrs. H.”
She sat on her bed, crocheting automatically while she watched

Wheel of Fortune on the tiny television mounted on the wall. She was
dressed in some kind of blue cotton housecoat. It looked modest enough,
but Eddie still asked if she felt up to visitors.

Her hands went still. “Visitors?”
“I brought a friend of mine.” Eddie leaned over and kissed her

cheek, then waved Reese into Mrs. Henderson’s small room. “How are
you feeling today?”

“I feel quite well, thank you, Mr. Vasquez. How are Lourdes and the

children?”

“I’m Eddie. Remember?” He saw this confused her, so he didn’t

press the issue.

“Do I know you?” she asked Reese.
“Uh, no.” Reese put down the box of books he was carrying and

offered his hand. “I’m Reese Daley, ma’am. I’m a friend of—”

Eddie interrupted. “Reese’s son is a teacher at Taft.”
“Your son is a teacher? How lovely.” She picked up the remote and

turned the television off. “I work at Taft. Mr. Vasquez’s son is one of my
students.”

“I know,” said Reese. “Eddie told me you’re his favorite teacher.”
“Eddie owes Mrs. H. everything,” Eddie said quietly.
“Oh, now.” She laughed that off. “It’s easy to teach such a smart

boy. Do you know if Phil is coming? I should pack my things. I need to
get back to work. I don’t know what people must think.”

“I haven’t heard anything about that,” Eddie said uncomfortably.
“Do you like books, Mrs. Henderson?” Reese picked up his box and

stepped forward.

“Yes, I do.” Her smile was a little lopsided. It quavered on her lips

as she spoke. “Very much.”

“I used to have a bookstore, but I had to close it down when the

economy went south.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Eddie—Mr. Vasquez told me this place has a lending library? I

thought maybe the owner would like some donations.”

“That’s very thoughtful. There’s hardly a library here. Just a shelf or

two of loaner books in the television room, but I’m sure they can always
use new titles. Most of the books out there are romances.”

“Could you show us?” Eddie asked. “We could put these out there

on the shelf.”

Mrs. H. rose from her bed and shuffled out into the hallway. The

group home where Bill Laurence had placed her was simply a very large
house in a nice neighborhood. It had been remodeled so the three
bedrooms downstairs formed six tiny private rooms with twin beds and
visitor chairs. The living room had six recliners facing a large flat-
screen television.

The residents ate in the dining room at a table like a family or

sometimes off TV trays in the living room. A smaller recreation room
contained easels and card tables for painting, crafts, and games.

Eddie had met the owner, who lived upstairs. There was also an

office up there, and a break room for staff.

All six residents—men and women—had varying memory

disorders. Some, like Mrs. H., seemed lucid and interacted with visitors
and staff, and some sat staring into space.

Eddie had gotten the idea to bring them books while he, Reese, and

Andrew worked to pare down Reese’s massive collection. He knew
Mrs. H. would appreciate them. She might even enjoy a visit from Reese
every so often, and God knew Reese needed to stop isolating himself in
such an unhealthy way. Eddie figured asking Reese to focus on helping
someone else might get his mind off his own troubles for a while.

Seeing Mrs. Henderson might also put his problems into

perspective.

Reese put the box down by the half-empty bookshelves Mrs.

Henderson showed him. The books there were mostly battered

paperbacks. Some were falling apart. “Reese brought mysteries this
time, but if there are other books you think you’d like, I’ll bet he can get
anything. Classics, horror, cookbooks…”

“I love mysteries.” She watched Reese open the box like a child

waiting for a Christmas present. “What did you bring?”

“I think I have some Agatha Christie in here, some Ruth Rendell,

and P.D. James. Oh, here’s The Maltese Falcon.”

“Dashiell Hammett refers to Sam Spade as a blond Satan.” Mrs. H.

reached out for the book. “My Phil used to have blond hair.”

“I’ve never read that one,” Eddie said. “I saw the movie though.

Humphrey Bogart, right?”

“Yes.” She held the book in both hands like a baby bird.
“I’ll just put these on the shelves.” Reese went to work, organizing.

Once a bookseller, always a bookseller.

Mrs. H.’s gaze didn’t lift. “I wish I had my reading glasses.”
“You don’t?” Eddie asked. “Didn’t Bill bring them for you?”
“I’ll be fine once Phil comes to get me. I only wear the cheap half-

glasses you buy at the drugstore. I crochet by feel but to read, I need
glasses or mile-long arms.”

“I can go get you some,” Eddie offered. “Do you know what

strength?”

“What strength?” She frowned at that.
“I’ll just get a few and keep the receipt, and you can see which ones

work.”

She seemed surprised by this. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course. I can do that right now, if you like, so you can get

started on your book.”

“Mr. Vasquez! You’re very kind. No wonder Eddie is such a good

boy.”

“I’d be happy to read your book aloud while we’re waiting, Mrs.

Henderson,” said Reese. “I haven’t read Hammett in years.”

Eddie turned to Reese, surprised. “Really?”
“It will be my pleasure. Though I can’t promise I’ll do the book

justice.”

“I’d be delighted to hear you read, Reese.” Mrs. Henderson’s

surprise turned to pleasure. “I like to listen to people read aloud and I’m
sure you’ll read wonderfully.”

“I hate to miss this.” Eddie turned to Reese. “But if you’re sure

you’ll be all right here for a bit.”

Reese pulled a chair up next to one of the recliners. “We’ll be fine

here, won’t we, Mrs. Henderson?”

“Call me Dot, for heaven’s sake.”
Reese smiled. “Dot and I will be fine.”
“Is there anything you’d like me to bring you besides the reading

glasses?” asked Eddie. “Is there anything else you need from the store?”

“I would very much like to have a manicure kit. I’ve been neglecting

my nails. Phil will think I’ve been digging in the garden here.”

“Got it,” Eddie spoke into his phone. “Manicure kit.”
“And”—she asked shyly—“maybe some pale pink lipstick?”
“Sure.” Eddie dictated a reminder about that too. “But maybe next

weekend, I could take you shopping? I’m sure you’ll want to pick some
things out for yourself.”

“Oh, you don’t need to go to all that trouble. Phil will be here

soon.” She smiled. “And he’ll take me.”

Eddie met Reese’s solemn gaze. “Of course.”
“Okay, Dot,” said Reese. He led her to a comfortable-looking chair.

“Have a seat in the royal throne here, and I’ll begin the story, shall I?”

Mrs. H. giggled like a girl. Eddie left the room, pausing to listen

just beyond the doorway where they couldn’t see him. Reese’s reading
voice was rich and animated. He and Dot attracted the attention of a
couple of the other residents. Two of the caregivers stopped what they
were doing to listen. Hammett’s odd word choices, the inflections, the
archaic language of making cigarettes and telephone bells ringing held
them all spellbound.

As Reese got into his role, his Boston accent didn’t disappear

entirely, but he made an effort to narrate the story without it. When he got
to “‘Shoo her in darling,’ said Spade. ‘Shoo her in.’” Reese sounded
enough like Bogey to fool Bacall.

Everyone around him listened.
Maybe Reese was right. Maybe books were sacred.

Eddie asked one of the CNAs to let him out. Understandably, she

had to bolt the door behind him. Once he was outside, Eddie speed-
dialed his favorite number.

“Hello,” Andrew answered.
“You sound happy. What’s up?”
“What do you mean, what’s up? My favorite person is calling me.

How can I not be happy?”

“I took Reese to meet Mrs. H.”
“You did? How did that go?”
“Better than I imagined. He’s reading The Maltese Falcon out loud

right to a group of people now. He does a damned good Humphrey
Bogart.”

“He’s reading to them? Really?”
“Hand to God. He started with just Mrs. H., but they drew an

audience. I don’t know which of them is enjoying it more.”

“Will you be coming by later?”
“No. I called to say I’m sorry about that.” Eddie got to his car and

leaned against the door. “Grime got a call about a job. I need to get to the
warehouse as soon as I’m done here and suit up for that.”

“What happened?”
“Do you really want to know?” Eddie asked.
“Of course I do. I’ll imagine something worse if you don’t tell me.”
“Convenience store robbery.”
It took a minute for Andrew to reply. He was probably absorbing

the horror of it. “I saw that on the news. The cashier was killed?”

“Yes. Place is a mess; refrigerator cases got busted up; there’s

slushy and shit everywhere.”

“And blood.”
“Yeah,” Eddie admitted.
“Did they catch the guys who did it?”
“Dave says they might have some leads. There have been a bunch of

convenience store robberies in the last two months. Same dudes. Same
MO. This is the first time they ever killed anyone, though.”

“How come, do you know?”
“I don’t. Probably the clerk was armed, or he tripped some kind of

alarm. Dave and the rest of the detectives have been working overtime
on these guys. They’ll get them.”

“Long night for you, though.”
“Yeah.”
“Stop by my place after, if you want. I made lasagna.”
“Homemade?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“Bonus offer: if it’s real late, wake me and I’ll suck your dick.”
Eddie snorted a laugh at that. “You trying to give me something to

look forward to?”

“You bet.”
“I always look forward to seeing you. Dick sucking or lasagna or

whatever.”

“Oh! And prepare to be amazed. I’ve learned a new dance move.”
“Without me?”
“Well, I have a lot to catch up on, and you can’t spend all your time

teaching me to dance.”

“Not this side of paradise, anyway. What is your new move?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”
“Where’d you learn it?”
“From my students.”
“Your first graders? Now I’m seriously concerned.”
“You should be,” Andrew teased. “Ever heard of Psy?”
“No. Don’t even say it.”
“Apparently he’s gone well beyond ‘Gangnam Style’ and—”
Eddie wrapped his free hand over his eyes. “Don’t even…”
“Did you know Hammer pants have made something of a

comeback?”

Eddie didn’t even know how to respond to that.
“Eddie?”
“I’m still here.”
“You know I’m kidding, right?”
“I hope you’re kidding. I hope you haven’t finally broken through

the hard white shell of your dance phobia only to imprint on Psy.”

“I beg your pardon?”
“As far as dance is concerned, you were an embryo when we met.

Don’t think you have to follow every Internet dance craze like a newly
hatched baby chick.”

“Did you just make a yolk?”
“Ha-ha. Put on one of your dad’s Sinatra records, stat. I’ll be there

as soon as I can.”

“Sounds great to me. But the Psy thing was fun. Lots of hip action.

You’ll probably like it.”

“Probably. That doesn’t make it right.” Hip action conjured an

image of Andrew’s body that made Eddie’s cock sit up and give his
zipper a nudge. “You’d better not forget the rules, B. Andrew Daley.”

“The rules?” Andrew practically purred. “I thought I gave the rules,

Mr. Vasquez.”

“Not so fast, Mr. Daley.” Warmth filled Eddie’s heart. “On the

dance floor, I take the lead.”

Epilogue

Lucy’s excitement couldn’t be contained when her uncle and her

teacher picked her up on the last day of school. “Mr. Daley, what are you
doing here?”

Her eyes bulged when Eddie stepped out of the passenger side of

his car.

“Hey, pepita.” Eddie waved at Cece and held the door open for his

niece. “All ready for the end-of-the-year picnic?”

“Uncle Cha-Cha? What are you doing with Mr. Daley?”
Andrew answered, “Today, I’m driving you to school, and then your

uncle Cha-Cha will be using my car for the day. That way he can come to
the picnic and drive home with us after.”

“But how come?”
“Three people don’t fit in my car.” Eddie turned and watched her

try to puzzle this out.

She sat quietly, staring at them. “Uncle Cha-Cha. Is my teacher your

boyfriend?”

Eddie and Andrew exchanged glances.
“Yep,” Andrew admitted. “I’m your uncle’s boyfriend.”
“No.” She said that just like her mother would have.
“Yes.” Eddie laughed.
“And guess what?” said Andrew. “Your uncle bought me a lunch

box too.”

“What kind?” She squirmed to see between the seats. “I got a new

Avengers one.”

“I got Mr. Daley a Batman one. It’s old-school.” Eddie held it up so

she could see it. “See?”

“Did your mom freeze your juice box when she made you lunch?”
Andrew shook his head. “I made my own lunch. But I did freeze my

water bottle.”

“Uncle Cha-Cha showed me. Mama can put tuna in mine if she

freezes my juice.”

Andrew pulled away from the curb.

Lucy remained silent—really, she was way too silent for a little girl

her age—until they got to Taft. Instead of parking in the lot, Andrew
pulled up to the curbside drop-off.

“All right then, Lucy.” Andrew met Lucy and Eddie at the curb,

where he gave Eddie the keys. Their fingers brushed and held for a
second of sweet contact as Andrew’s keys changed hands. Andrew’s
eyes said, Wish I could kiss you. Eddie winked at him and fussed
unnecessarily with his scarf.

After checking he had what he needed, Andrew said, “Got my work,

got lunch, got Lucy. I’m good to go.”

“Okay, see you at the picnic later,” said Eddie. “I’ll be bringing my

own lunch. You two can try to guess what will be on my lunch box.”

“You got a lunch box too?” asked Lucy.
“I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
“Wait.” Andrew stopped Eddie from walking away. “I have

something for you.”

Eddie turned back. Andrew eyed him like he wanted to lick him all

over. Surely that wasn’t a look anyone should be wearing around
children. Eddie was about to remind Andrew of that when Andrew
pressed something into his hand.

He looked down and found a bright green Teacher’s Pet pencil with

a shiny red apple eraser on it.

“Uncle Cha-Cha.” Lucy squeaked with delight. “Hey, look! You got

a Teacher’s Pet pencil too.”

Loose Id Titles by Z. A. Maxfield

Blue Fire

Crossing Borders

Drawn Together

Fugitive Color

Gasp!

Rhapsody for Piano and Ghost

Secret Light

* * * *

What Child is This?

(a Crossing Borders Christmas Story)

* * * *

THE BROTHERS GRIME Series

Jack (Grime and Punishment)

Eddie (Grime Doesn’t Pay)

* * * *

The ST. NACHO’S Series

St. Nacho’s

Physical Therapy

Jacob’s Ladder

The Book of Daniel

Z.A. Maxfield

Z. A. Maxfield is a fifth generation native of Los Angeles, although

she now lives in the O.C. She started writing in 2006 on a dare from her
children and never looked back. Pathologically disorganized, and
perennially optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as
she dares, and enjoys her time with family and friends. If anyone asks her
how a wife and mother of four manages to find time for a writing career,
she'll answer, “It's amazing what you can do if you completely give up
housework.”

Check out her website at

http://www.zamaxfield.com

Document Outline

Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Where My Books Go
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
Loose Id Titles by Z. A. Maxfield
Z.A. Maxfield

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