Read Online Empty Nests by Ada Maria Soto - Free Book Online Page A

tendencies….”
    Gabe laughed.
    “Don’t laugh. You don’t have kids. Believe me, when you’ve got a kid, you quickly realize there is no worry too outrageous to not spend a little time dwelling on it.”
     
     
    J AMES SHIVERED in the late afternoon breeze. It was early in the season to be out in just a polo shirt, but he could handle the chill if it meant a little more time strolling along the grass. He was worried about what was supposed to happen next. He was sure there was some code of etiquette for getting invited to a country club, taken to a nice lunch, then invited back to the country club to take a walk in a secluded corner of it, but he was damned if he knew what it was.
    They got to a small bridge that arched over an ornamental stream. Gabe stopped and leaned over the railing, looking into the water. There were a few golf balls sporting a thin layer of moss and tiny silver fish darting about.
    “When I was just starting out, I knew this business manager, Gregory. He had jumped around a lot of the dot-coms. This was in the middle of the tech bubble, when venture capital—’stupid money’—was flowing. He was psychic or something. He told me that 90 percent of the Valley would be out of business by the millennium because it was being run by children with shiny new toys. He also told me I’d be okay as long as I started networking with the right people. Then he dragged me into this place kicking and screaming. I’m really not a country club kind of guy.”
    “You seem pretty comfortable.”
    Gabe chuckled. “You’ve never seen my golf game. Can’t putt to save my soul.” A wide oak leaf fluttered down from the canopy and into the stream, where it was whisked away. “That first year, when he would drag me here, I spent a lot of time hiding out, wandering around. Found this spot —I don’t think most of the members even know they have this little corner.”
    There was a decent gust of cold air, and James couldn’t control the chill that went through him.
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” Gabe said, noticing the sudden shiver.
    “It’s okay.”
    “We should go back up to the clubhouse, where it’s warmer.”
    “I’m okay. Really. It’s pretty here, relaxing.”
    “It is.”
    There was a flutter of wings, and James watched a little brown bird take to the sky. Gabe moved closer.
    “James, would you mind horribly if I tried to kiss you now?”
    “No.” James’s voice squeaked like a teenager’s.
    Gabe smiled and pressed their lips together. James gripped the railing of the bridge. He opened his lips to try to breathe. Gabe’s tongue darted in, then he pulled back. James tried to look calm, but his heart was pounding hard enough that some part of him was worrying about a heart attack.
    “Was that okay?”
    “Yep.” James’s voice squeaked again, and he gave a little cough. He was amazed he could speak at all.
    “Good.” Gabe looped an arm around his waist. Gabe was a couple inches taller, and James had to tilt his head back a bit, but it still felt nice. He shivered again but not from the cold. There could have been a blizzard raging, and he wouldn’t have felt anything but the warmth Gabe was putting out. He pried his fingers off the bridge and wrapped his arms around Gabe. He was trying to avoid coming across as desperate, but eight years was a long time to go between kisses.
    Gabe laced his fingers into James’s hair, then kissed him again, twisting his tongue around James’s, taking full control of the kiss. James felt his knees start to go, and he was sure he was very close to embarrassing himself. Gabe pulled away. James tried to catch his breath. He wasn’t sure how he looked, but he felt like he’d just done a hundred-meter dash against the wind.
    “I don’t suppose you’d like to come back to my place for a cup of coffee?” Gabe asked, managing to sound a little uncertain.
    “Yes.” James’s libido answered before his brain could kick in. “No.” His brain contradicted.