- Black Gold 2 - Double Black (18 page)

Maybe the dad thing wasn’t all bad, either. Had to be a similar satisfaction, a similar sense of watching someone turn the potential he saw into life-changing actuality. Maybe he’d even like it when he got used to the whole thing.

Maybe.
The police outside the station cleared a path for Robbie to pull around the SUV to claim them. As Jett helped Goldie in and climbed in behind him, he thought of what it would be like to climb into a limo with Goldie after a wedding. The idea caught him off guard, and despite his ideological objections, the romance of it captured his fantasy. Maybe it was bourgeois and heteronormative, but it sounded sweet too, like his Goldie. In the abstract, it wasn’t so bad daydreaming.

Jett settled his arm around Goldie’s shoulders and kissed his cheek, feeling somewhere between schmoopy and puckish. “You’ll be a good daddy someday, baby. A good husband too.”

Goldie looked at Jett with his head cocked and a brow raised. “Yeah? Maybe someday I’ll be both of those things.”
“Never know, right?” Jett gave Goldie the sultry, enigmatic smile he used for magazine covers and sank down in the seat to snuggle against Goldie’s side and rest his head on his chest. He thought about sucking Goldie’s cock, but Robbie wouldn’t appreciate it, given the lack of a privacy screen between passengers and driver.

Instead he curled around his boyfriend like he could protect him from the world. “Maybe someday.”

Though Jett couldn’t see Goldie’s face, he felt his heart rate increase. “Maybe.” Jett’s chest felt tight, and he had the vague sense that there was a point of no return somewhere nearby. Soon there’d be a right moment to leap over, but this wasn’t it. He kissed Goldie’s throat gently. “Let’s get the kid outta the slammer. Then we’ll talk.”
With a soft sigh, Goldie stroked Jett’s hair. “Good things are worth waiting for.”

Chapter Seven

The next morning, Cole woke from dreaming of what Christmas might be like living with rock stars and stretched his aching muscles. It took about five seconds to remember where he was, and as soon as he did, he wished he hadn’t opened his eyes. He sat and swung his feet to the cold floor.

“Mr. Adams?”

Cole blinked at an extraordinarily good-looking cop peering through the bars at him. It was like a scene from a porn movie. He
had
informed the universe he wanted a boyfriend now. Was it that easy?

“Yes, Officer?” Cole held his breath, waiting for some cue to tell him whether this was a good dream or an awkward real-life scenario.

“Hi, I’m Sergeant Malone. Your father and I spoke yesterday about your situation. I’m about to go off duty, but I promised him I’d look after you.” Sergeant Malone gave a movie-star smile and gripped a bar at head height in a way that made his triceps bounce.

Cole let out a sigh. Of course, it was too good to be true. If the guy wanted anyone, it was probably Jett. Just like Goldie. Just like Kyle with his dumb posters.
“Yeah, sure. Jethro charmed you into looking after his kid for him. Of course he did. That’s what he does.”

“I’m not here to argue, but I’m an officer of the law, and it’s my place to tell you your business when you’re in my jail. Your father’s had his share of dustups with the LAPD, but he came here in a suit looking like a fine, respectable man, and he told the reporters he’s gonna take care of you no matter what the paternity test says. He was proud of you, and I swore to keep an eye on you like you were my own.” Sergeant Malone leaned against the bars like a small-town sheriff in an old black-and-white Western.

Cole hugged himself and frowned. He felt exposed under that knowing gaze. Something about Sergeant Malone’s manner said he knew exactly what kind of kid Cole was and wasn’t impressed with the lip. Cole wished this
was
a porno so the tension could be resolved with some cock sucking instead of the lesson he had a feeling he was about to receive.

“So here’s my advice, Mr. Adams: keep your head down, your nose clean, and never forget where you came from. I grew up four hours from your hometown. I know that pioneer spirit in you ’cause it’s in me too. Most back home use it to be busybodies and good ole boys. Way I see it, you’re doing the only thing there is to do. Just try doing it without assaulting anybody in future, all right?” Sergeant Malone’s green eyes sparkled.

Cole fell in love with him just a little.
As if sensing Cole’s admiration, the officer straightened and stepped back from the bars. “Anyway, nice a man as your father was to me, he’s hit a few cops in his time. I expect you to tell him I kept a good eye on this cell until you woke up. I expedited your paperwork, and your counsel will be here any minute. Good luck, Mr. Adams.”
My hero
. That was a lot to do for a stranger. Maybe he’d just take a blowjob?
Cole watched the officer walk away, gaze following every flex of uniformed muscle. “Thank you!”
Malone raised a hand in acknowledgement, but he didn’t look back.
Sulking, Cole decided to pee, wash his face, and get ready for Carol’s arrival. He couldn’t even get laid in jail!
Porn lied. Cole was going to be a virgin forever.
Cole didn't have time to sink deeper into his funk. A few minutes later, a jailer shuffled him into the interrogation room to meet with his attorney. Compared with his cotton-headed frustration, she was the picture of cool, effortless composure. He could see why Jett liked her. Sitting with her, he felt certain this would all blow over soon.
By way of greeting, she shuffled some papers across the table and said, “Good morning, Cole. If you have any complaints about your treatment, I took the liberty of bringing a few forms for you to fill out. Otherwise, let’s move along to your discharge.”
Cole pushed away the complaint forms, as he didn’t think failure to conform to teenage fantasies counted with the courts. Instead, he focused his limited attention on the information about his bail. Confused, he looked up at Carol. Her spectacles perched on the tip of her nose like a bird on a small, pointy branch.

He resisted the urge to adjust them. “What about the judge?”
“I made some calls. Your bail was set first thing this morning. Jett paid it. You can leave as soon as the discharge is processed. Sign the highlighted lines at the Xs, I’ll hand it to the officer waiting outside the door, and we’ll get you home in approximately two hours.”
“That’s all? I’m free?” Cole started to sigh in relief but stopped when Carol shook her head.
“No. This is just the end of your stay in jail. Due to the sensitive nature of the situation and your status as a first-time offender, you were able to sleep through the arraignment. I filed the waiver you signed yesterday, appeared on your behalf, and filed my motion to dismiss charges. If Jett hadn’t posted your bail, you would be sitting here until your trial. You’ll still have a trial unless my negotiations with the DA work as I intend. If the prosecution fails to meet its burden of evidence or chooses to drop the case, then either at the preliminary hearing or shortly after, you’ll be cleared.”

Carol spoke rapidly, her tone confident and competent. Cole stared at her, ran a hand through his hair, and tried to untangle the jumble of concepts before giving up. On the bright side, his dad was looking out for him.

As for the other pressing need, the sooner the better. Maybe he could get out and call Kyle. How cool would he think it was to live with two rock stars?

That was, if Kyle was willing to talk to him. Cole had, after all, bailed without a word. After their argument.
Oh well, there was plenty he had yet to do to get settled in before he had to worry about that. Right now he just wanted to rest and relax. “Yeah, okay. You handle that, legal eagle. I can be poolside in two hours?”
Carol’s small laugh caught Cole by surprise. She looked at him sidelong and pointed at the paperwork. “Just sign the damn papers, kid, and stop imitating your da—Jett.”
Cole wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or annoyed that she’d almost called Jett his dad. Maybe he did feel special that people saw in him some of what they admired in Jett. Cole had never felt particularly cool before, but he was starting to think maybe he’d inherited some indefinable spark.

Couldn’t be all bad.
Cole signed the paperwork, gave it to Carol to check over, and tried to pay attention until she finished informing him what to expect. Then he returned to his cell and waited until he could call Goldie to pick him up.
That part was definitely awesome.

* * * *

Goldie pressed his hands to his face. They were cold. His face was warm. Cole was coming home. Cole, Jett’s son, was coming home. Cole, Goldie’s stepish son, was coming home.

While Goldie was clear Jett hadn’t proposed in the car the day before, it did sound like there might be a proposal in their future. Maybe.
Goldie tried not to set his hopes too high, because a fall from those heights might kill him.
And their relationship.
He’d seen it happen to other couples. One person would decide to move the relationship forward before the other was ready. Doubt and insecurity stemming from rejection deflated the relationship, and then it was over with both sides uncertain how it had happened. One day they were happy; the next they fell apart.

Goldie was determined that wouldn’t happen.
Jett was always as good as his word, but he hadn’t given his word. It was possible that Jett had been feeling familial in his defense of Cole. Either way, Goldie and Jett were family. The rest was just a piece of paper.
But,
oh
, what a piece of paper.

Goldie sighed and tried to focus. He’d sent Robbie to retrieve Cole. As cool as it would have been to show up and whisk Cole home, the young man sounded weary, and Goldie’s presence turned most things into a circus.

Robbie had agreed that picking up Cole alone was best. He would provide muscle if any reporters lingered. Getting out on bail wasn’t nearly as sexy as being arrested, and if Jett and Goldie weren’t there, it shouldn’t be a spectacle.

Music blasted from the practice room where Jett was going over the tracks Goldie had laid down and adding his own spin so they could rerecord. Goldie listened through the door. Guitar wailed and Jett shrieked along with Goldie’s overly sexualized lyrics. Just listening to Jett turned Goldie on, but Cole would be home shortly, and that wasn’t something he should walk in on.

When the sound paused, Goldie opened the door. “He’s on his way.” Jett looked up from twisting a tuning peg on the headstock of his oldest guitar, a battered six string he’d had since he first learned to play. As the news sank in, he lifted the strap over his head, turned his back to Goldie, and set the guitar on its stand beside the array of pedals Jett utilized when writing. It had been a long time since Jett had seemed so inspired.

“Bitchin’.” Jett flashed a devilish smile over his shoulder that was both seductive and infuriating, given how empty Goldie knew those smiles could be. “So, Goldilocks, we gonna have a celebratory lunch or something? Tell Hasani Cole wants sushi. I don’t know if he does, but I’m Daddy, and I get to say that.”

Equipment settled, Jett edged up the steps to join Goldie in the doorway. His body language seemed wary, as if Jett were a wild animal trying to decide on the best angle from which to approach his prey. As he reached the top step, he slipped his arms behind Goldie to grope his cheeks, one in each hand.

Jett stole a kiss. For a moment, it seemed like he might start the conversation Goldie’d been waiting for. Then he gave Goldie’s ass a smack, slipped past him into the hallway, and started for the kitchen.

Goldie slumped against the doorway. Of course, he could always start the conversation himself. That would certainly fit his new MO.
But Jett had opened that door. Intentionally or not, Jett’s broaching of the topic prevented Goldie from being the one to propose.
This wasn’t a good time anyway. Cole would be home any minute. Goldie pushed from the doorway and followed Jett.

Jett waited for Goldie to catch up and slipped an arm around his waist. It wasn’t going down on one knee, but Jett was home in the middle of the day and making music for a joint project for a tour together. That had to count for something.

“Do you really think a Kansas boy is going to want to eat raw fish?”

Jett nibbled Goldie’s ear. “I’m a Kansas boy too. ’Course, my first choice was eating your ass, but that’s not really a family fun-time activity. Sushi’s the least Cole can provide to make up for the limitations on my enjoyment.”

Hasani cleared his throat. Goldie jumped. That chef needed to wear a bell.

“I could have some peanut butter and jelly at the ready should Cole not be amenable to sushi.”
Goldie smiled, but the chef’s expression was grave.

Hasani took a deep breath. “I think you should turn on the E! Network.”

All the air seemed to leave the room. Goldie didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing Jett until he grunted.
“Is Cole— Did something happen? Is he all right?”
Hasani held up his hands. “He’s fine as far as I know. There were a few shots of Robbie loading him into the SUV, no problem. But it seems a crew of reporters was dispatched to Kansas to dig into his past. I think they outed one of his friends.”
“Those bastards!” Jett tensed beside Goldie like he was ready to throw punches. It was good there were no reporters handy, or someone would have ended up with a mouthful of knuckle.

Jett never watched the entertainment news and got cranky with Goldie when he did, but now he stalked into the sitting room and turned on the TV. He bounced on the balls of his feet like a boxer before a fight as he scrolled through the cable menu, then punched the key for E! Network.

“So we can assume that whatever the Black Gold PR team says…” Jett shouted, “What PR team?” at the screen as if they could hear him.

 

“…and regardless of the paternity test results, Cole Adams will have a lot of questions to answer.”

The young reporter who’d spoken looked like she’d been a beauty queen before the network hired her. She smiled sunnily from a small road in front of a ranch-style home in a place the text on screen identified as Near Lawrence, Kansas.

The show cut back to the studio, where a familiar entertainment reporter smiled her fake, porcelain-veneered smile. “It sounds like assaulting a customer in a Kmart is only the latest in a string of behavioral problems for this young man. If Jett Black is his father, it would explain a lot. Thanks, Susie, for the live report. We also have an interview with one of Cole’s friends taped earlier today.”