“I can’t. Dylan has an early game tomorrow way up in Vallejo. I’m keeping all the team stats this year, and I haven’t even gotten the ones from the last game into the system yet.”
“That’s okay.” He saw the flash of disappointment on Gabe’s face and wondered if he’d just lost himself a chance at another date. Gabe pressed his lips to James’s jaw, just below his ear. “Rain check?”
The relief flooded through. “Oh God, yes.”
Gabe chuckled, a warm sound James wanted to wrap himself in to keep out the cold. “If you need to get going, at least let me walk you back up to your car.”
“I think you’ll have to. I’d probably get lost trying to find my own way.”
“Then I shall be your loyal guide.”
They didn’t move with any hurry, taking the time to kick at stray leaves. James didn’t mind. The afternoon was the nicest he’d had in a long time, not totally by choice, but pleasure had always come second to responsibility.
They got up to the clubhouse. The valet brought around the car without being told which one. Gabe looked it over.
“It’s called the Lemon Drop Wonder.”
Gabe looked like he was flipping through possible comments. James had heard them all. “And it runs?”
“It rattles a bit between thirty and thirty-five, but that just makes getting on the freeway a little more exciting.”
“Well, drive carefully.” Gabe gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Give me a text when you get home?”
James rolled his eyes but felt an odd little thrill at Gabe’s concern. “You’re as bad as Dylan. I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you later?”
“I look forward to it.”
G ABE WATCHED the Lemon Drop Wonder drive off. The left rear wheel wiggled, obviously out of alignment. He was tempted to hop in his own car and follow James all the way back to Albany.
Instead he stood there and licked at his lips. He wondered if he had gone too fast. He’d been able to feel James’s heart pounding when he pulled their bodies together. He was pretty sure he was a decent kisser, but he wasn’t sure if he was that good. Still, it had felt unbelievably nice.
It wasn’t that his life was totally devoid of company. He had the occasional one-night stand, and up until a year earlier, he’d had at least one good friend with benefits, but there had never been a lot of kissing. Not the slow lingering kisses that started a relationship.
That he was even thinking the word “relationship” already was unexpected, but James was ticking the boxes. Intelligent, pleasant, decent looking, and there was the extra bonus of having probably more strength and integrity than the vast majority of people he associated with. He knew plenty of guys who sent out their child support payments with the water bill and paid more attention to the water.
He was sure there was not a single one who would have been willing to step up at age fourteen and toss away the rest of their childhood to be a father. He knew the fathers of his sisters’ kids had had damn near nothing to do with their offspring.
He pulled out his phone, ignored the seventeen messages, opened his calendar, and began desperately looking for a spot to put that rain check in.
“D YLAN ,” J AMES called as he let himself into the apartment. He’d hit traffic, and it was nearly seven. “Dylan,” he called again while wandering into the kitchen. There was a note on the fridge.
Staying with Stephen tonight (in case you need the place to yourself). Will come home early before leaving for the game. There’s some leftover corned beef hash in the fridge. –Dylan
P.S. Your phone isn’t picking up again.
James took his phone from a pocket to find three missed calls, even though he hadn’t heard it ring once. He skipped over the two from Dylan, partly because he didn’t need to hear that much innuendo coming from his son. The next call was from Gabe.
“Hi there. It’s me. I know you said you’d text when you got home,
Judith Arnold
Diane Greenwood Muir
Joan Kilby
David Drake
John Fante
Jim Butcher
Don Perrin
Stacey Espino
Patricia Reilly Giff
John Sandford