Here for You (3 page)

There was a polite knock on Ian’s door. Brendan peeked his head in. “Do you need me for anything? I finished everything else.”

“Everything?” Ian was pleased. Brendan was a great asset to his small firm, which specialized in Family Law. “Thank you.” He heard the Stark cold formality of his own voice and immediately added, “You’re really on top of things here. I appreciate it.”

Brendan ducked his head. “No, thank you. I’m really happy with the work I get to do. It’s interesting, especially the new Kaufmann case.”

“Um… good.” The worst part about being raised a Stark was that small talk could be torture. Ian could easily handle talking to his clients, that was work, but otherwise he always felt at a loss. “Why don’t you go home? It’s late. Oh, and I ran into your housemate today.”

“Tomas?”

“No.”

“Marc? River?”

“No.” Dear God, how many people did he live with? “The one who bartends. Cole.” Ian paused, tasting the sound of his name. “He wanted you to stop by tonight.”

“Maybe on my way home.” Brendan shrugged. “I have class work to study for later.”

“It’s good you keep at it. You’ll be a fine lawyer.”

“Yeah.” Excitement flashed in Brendan’s eyes. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“Well, I’m glad.” Ian watched as Brendan happily gathered his belongings together.

“See you bright and early tomorrow.”

T
HE
REST
of the night dragged for Ian. He stayed working at the office as long as possible. Then he sat back in his chair, twisting his neck slightly to get rid of the kinks. His gaze settled on the photo of his aunt Iris, the only one in his family to allow Ian any fun.

He missed her. Near the end, though, she hadn’t known him, the light gone from her eyes, replaced with clouded confusion as she called Ian by her father’s name. For a bright, beautiful woman like his aunt Iris, that was its own hell. In her younger days, she’d been a prom queen and a budding linguist, but she’d left college early to travel the world, staying in youth hostels, spending time in Paris and Barcelona, enjoying her female lovers and delighting in shocking her conservative family. She’d lived life on her own terms, always looking at the world differently than most and facing it head-on.

That was another thing about Iris. She’d been there for Ian. When he’d realized he was gay too, and had been so young and confused and frightened about his family’s reaction, she’d been there. From the time Ian was a young boy, hurling himself into her welcoming arms, to the time he graduated law school, Aunt Iris has been his touchstone, his person. She was mischievous and arrogant, razor-sharp and loving, and when she’d finally settled down with her partner, Sue, they’d been his one example of what a passionate, affectionate love might resemble.

She wouldn’t be too happy for him now, sitting alone, chained to his desk for hours, acting so much like the other Starks. “Stop being so serious,” Iris would tell a young Ian as they planted sunflowers in her garden. She would chase him with the hose a little, spraying his back, causing him to shriek with laughter, something Ian rarely did. “You have to let loose a little.”

Easier said than done. Ian was damn proud of his firm. He’d built it, babied it, and watched it grow. Ian could be single-minded, some might even say ruthless, when he wanted something, and he’d wanted this. He was proud of his cases and the firm’s progress too, but he knew, deep in his heart, that he let work become a wall. He used it at times to keep out the rest of the world.

Eventually, when it darkened out, he locked up, secured the door, and set the alarm.

B
RENDAN
DIDN
’
T
show. Instead, he’d called to apologize around eight o’clock that night. “I got some homework for class, and Ian wants me at the office early. Katherine is still on maternity leave. She has another month.”

“Katherine?”

“His secretary.”

“Hmmm.” Cole placed a Sam Adams in front of a customer, only half listening. Somebody he’d scored with a few nights before smiled at Cole, like he wanted a repeat. His name was Lance or Lex, something like that, and while he had mostly licked at Cole’s hard-on, not maneuvering his mouth enough, Cole would indulge him in another try. Maybe he’d send him over some free booze and then see about another blowjob after his shift. He poured some peach margarita mix into the blender and let it whirl around, thinking about how he could encourage Lex/Lance to suck him deeper.

“Really, I’m swamped with work. I can’t come tonight.”

“Excuses, excuses. Get your young and boring ass down here.”

“I can come another time.”

“You’re being a slave again. Or is that the appeal? Do you like a little collar-and-whip action?”

“Fuck off.”

“Just saying. He’s got you working hours unpaid.”

“No, Ian is totally fair. It’s my choice. And I like my job. And my classes. Actually, Ian and I are working on this one thing—” At Ian’s name, Cole shut his eyes and exhaled a long breath. He couldn’t deny the attraction, but he hated it. Even if Brendan weren’t totally nuts about Ian, Cole doubted a guy like Ian, would consider Cole in his league. And that rankled too. “—and the case is so exciting,” Brendan said, and then he’d laughed. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sure I am.” But truthfully, listening to Brendan discuss work only reminded Cole of Ian. He didn’t want to mention to Brendan he’d seen him, nor did he want to listen to Brendan gush about him.

Cole didn’t want to think about Ian at all. He understood why Brendan might be attracted to him—Cole was attracted to Ian’s whipcord-lean body and startlingly blue eyes too—but did Cole
like
the guy?

No, better to recall all of Ian’s bad qualities. Cole did that a lot lately: focus on what he disliked about Ian Stark.

Number one: Ian was a perfectionist from what Cole could see, always wanting things done in a very precise way—his way—and Cole had never seen him smile, not fully. Brendan insisted that he did.

Number two: Ian’s boyfriend had left him two years ago, and as far as Cole knew, Ian never dated. Why his long-term partner up and left him or where he’d gone was all very mysterious and of course only added to Ian’s appeal for a romantic like Brendan, who was constantly inviting Ian over for cookouts or holidays. To Cole’s surprise, Ian did come to some of their events, but Cole still found Ian too conservative. Even at their barbecues, Ian wore a shirt buttoned high and pressed slacks. Besides, who cared if some guy broke Ian’s heart? They all had sob stories. Cole had plenty of them, not that he shared. Cole preferred to live in the here and now. With his little makeshift, sunshine family. His real family could kiss his ass.

Number three…. Cole couldn’t find a third reason to dislike Ian. He was a few years older than Cole, but Cole liked that. The younger twinks at the bar, like Lex/Lance, were beginning to tire him. Being with a slightly older man, a guy who knew exactly what he wanted, excited Cole.

Shit.
Cole racked his brain for a number three. Ian had a cool confidence when he walked into a room, but damn if Cole didn’t like that about him too. Ian was so… self-contained.

Unlike me.
Cole’s nickname, given to him by his housemate Marc, was Eggs.

“Eggs, as in scrambled,” Marc teased. Cole knew it was because he was forever misplacing his keys, his wallet, his good pair of shoes.

“Hey, Eggs, will you pay attention?” Marc griped whenever Cole misplaced things.

“Let him be,” Brendan always laughed. “Cole lives in his own world, that’s all.”

“A world only he understands,” Tomas agreed, but he’d lift Cole and give him a bear hug. “We forgive him because he has such a pretty face.”

Cole would bet his ass Ian Stark never forgot anything.

“Hey, hello?” Brendan’s voice over the phone startled Cole back to the present. “You’re so not listening to me. Ian said you wanted me to drop by tonight, but you’re not even paying attention.”

“I’m paying attention.”

Ian had mentioned their encounter at the Busy Day Café to Brendan? What had he said exactly? No, fuck it, Cole refused to ask.

Lex/Lance gave him a small wave, and Cole nodded back. He was a bit too small and fine boned for Cole’s taste, and too angular in his face, but in the dark, an exchange of mutual pleasure would work. Not to mention, Lex/Lance would take his mind off Ian.

“Yeah, you’re listening. Clearly. You’re probably looking over some hot guy in the bar.”

Cole flushed guiltily. How did Brendan always know what he was up to? Brendan wasn’t just his best friend. He was fucking psychic.

“If you’d come down here, you could find some hot guy for the night too,” Cole bantered right back, even though he knew Brendan was not one to go for a casual night of fun.

“No thanks. I’ll live vicariously through you. Find somebody worthy and report back.”

Cole’s lips quirked into a grin. He glanced at Lex/Lance. “I just might.”

“Oh jeez. I was
joking
.”

“So? I’m not. Life is short. Might as well get some while I’m young and pretty.”

“And modest.”

“That too. Besides, I’m not like you, Brendan. I need sex on a regular basis. Pining away for somebody is not my style.”

“I’m no saint, Cole,” Brendan murmured.

But a few customers had already distracted Cole and he didn’t acknowledge that. “Listen, I should go. It’s busy here, and I see a hot prospect too. So I’ll tell you all about it Saturday night. Make you weep with jealousy.”

“Saturday?”

“Yeah, did you forget? It’s our family dinner.” That was how Cole referred to their weekly dinner. Although the others teased him over it and they bitched about finding time to sit down and eat, they usually all showed up every week. None of them wanted to lose the bond they’d spent the past years building. Before finding them, Cole had lived in rent-by-the-week motels and trailer parks, and if Cole didn’t have his housemates in his life to count on, he would be alone in the world.

He knew it was the same for Marc and River. While Tomas had some family in Miami and Brendan’s folks were not far away, the rest of them were totally alone.

They tried to find a day when all of them could be there, but it wasn’t easy.

“Oh, right.”

“Everybody but River said they could make it.”

A customer waved at Cole in an annoyed way, despite the fact there was a full drink in front of him, and Cole’s coworker Sandy hurried over.

“Maybe I can see River and convince him to join us,” Brendan said.

“If anybody can, it’d be you. Later, Bren.”

“Later.”

They ended the phone call.

“Thanks for covering that customer,” Cole told Sandy.

“No problem. Although he told me the drink was weak. Even though I laughed it off and tried to joke with him, I don’t think he’ll give me a good tip.”

Sandy, a cheerful, beefy guy, wasn’t a very good bartender. His drinks
were
always too weak, his jokes too old. He was the kind of guy who, seeing the first joke had failed, would hurry up and make a second, then a third one. The customers in the bar, who were trying to simply get their drinks made quickly and head back to their dates, inevitably had to suffer through a few of Sandy’s comedy attempts. What Sandy failed to understand was that customers enjoyed talking about themselves more than listening to him talk. They all had a story they itched to tell, and hearing their stories was Cole’s favorite part of the job.

“Cole, have you done the inventory?” Paula asked, passing by with her clipboard in hand. She was thin and pale, with a pretty face, but she hardly ever smiled, except when she needed to, and then Paula could turn on the charm.

“Got it done.” He handed her the papers.

“That dirty martini customer was cute. His name was Justin. And I joked he was just in time for a drink. Maybe I wasn’t flirtatious enough? I don’t have much experience with good-looking guys like that….” Sandy sighed wistfully.

Cole imagined Sandy might not have
any
experience with guys. He was always out of step somehow, which was a shame because he wasn’t a bad person.

“Aw, you could get him, Sandy. You only need”—
a personality makeover
—“a little confidence.”

Maybe Cole should help Sandy out? But Sandy seemed to want a relationship, and Cole was not too good at that himself.

Cole did his fair share of flirting at It’s Five O’clock Somewhere. Lots of lonely guys gravitated to a bartender, so his job made it easy to get laid. They were comfortable asking him questions about drinks to hide their anxiety. Somehow, though, it never went too far. Lots of sex, yes, but not much else. By mutual agreement, the guys he dated never wanted commitments. Or maybe they never wanted commitment from him? That did sting a little. Because despite his earned reputation as a bit of a player, deep down Cole always imagined himself in love. Really truly in love, not in a lame, half-assed way, but big-time—in a crazy, giddy, thrilling, totally captured, stuff-of-movies way. He was beginning to think that type of love was only a fantasy.

T
HE
NEXT
day Cole made good on his promise to pay Andrew.

“Thanks for letting me pay you today.” He dug the money out of his wallet.

“No worries. How’re your housemates?”

“Good. Haven’t seen them too much this week, but we’re going to meet up tomorrow for dinner.”

“Sounds nice. I should do that with John. All I do lately is work. I envy you guys. Any time you come in here together, I can tell how close you are.”

“It’s pretty great living with them,” Cole agreed. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Yeah, until one of you falls in love with the other and screws the household up.”

Cole gave Andrew a horrified look. “Hell no.”

Although… it was possible with Tomas and Marc. Maybe they argued so much to prevent being alone together? What would happen if they got past that? And what if Brendan did become some big shot lawyer? Would he still see Cole and the others in the same light?