Keep Swimming (2 page)

Present Day

“Uh, oh,” a certain pint-sized boy said. Cary snickered when he saw his son’s ‘help’ had been to tip the entire bag of dog food over in the pen. A swarm of Chihuahuas and Yorkies had descended on the unexpected feast. Gus plopped down on his small butt and laughed when a few of the tiny dogs started licking him.

Cary wandered over, lifting the three-year-old off the filthy ground and swiping dirt from the back side of Gus’s denim overalls—the ones he’d insisted on having three pair of.

“Dirty,” Gus said, observantly. “Always dirty, lil’a boy” he intoned, pointing a finger at Cary, mocking his father’s constant complaining over how filthy one child could manage to get in such short periods of time.

“
That’s right, you pipsqueak.” He started tickling the boy, who flailed in his arms as he laughed the gleeful, uninhibited laugh of the young. “Always dirty.” He remembered all the people who’d said to him "
Boys are easier than girls, be thankful it’s a boy."
He called bull on that one. Girls may be more emotional, but his hands were all dry skin from being in the water constantly required to keep his son presentable.

But this was okay. Today was doggy day, the one day a week when Gus and Cary volunteered at the no-kill shelter his friend and neighbor Celine ran. He always knew he’d come home from their day at the shelter just as squicky looking as his son. They got sweaty in the hot Florida sun, smelly from cleaning dog poop, and filthy in general from playing with the dogs out in the yard.

Cary’s own dog had died the year before and he hadn’t the heart to adopt a new one yet. Plus, between his volunteer work at the shelter and running a dog bakery on Pensacola Beach, The Barkery by the Bay, he got plenty of doggy time in. He’d opened The Barkery not expecting much, but loving the idea of providing house-made and commercial organic kibble as well as refrigerated foods and baked treats. The locals were definitely bourgeois enough to shop at such a place, but after his partner up and left, taking his veterinary clinic’s clientele with him, Cary hadn’t held out much hope he’d be able to support himself and a kid on its earnings. He definitely didn’t want to think of that time right now. This was their favorite day, his and Gus’s. No need reliving things that were so far in the past and no longer significant.

“
Daddy, stop! I need go…”

Cary mimicked Gus’s somber expression. “You do, do you?” Gus reached over Cary’s shoulder, pointing behind them. His son hid behind his lashes and lay his head on Cary’s chest, as he often did when they were around strangers. Cary couldn’t imagine where his shyness had come from, but those moments were too damn cute to complain about.

When Cary turned, his eyes met those of one of the other regular volunteers who came to the shelter with slightly less frequency than he and Gus did. Cary smiled a greeting, nodding at the man. The very attractive sun-tanned man, who even made Cary hide behind his lashes. He felt his cheeks heat when the guy, Heath, smirked at the Whitmore boys’ matching expressions. For if Cary knew one thing, he couldn’t have produced a more spitting image of himself than Gus, had he been a clone.

Cary set Gus back on his own feet, patting his butt to get him moving. “Go on, then. Miss Celine is in the feed room. Go find her.” He didn’t have to tell Gus twice, the toddler looking once more at Heath before scuttling off.

“Still shy, I see,” Heath said. He wondered, hearing the teasing tone, if Heath was talking about father or son.

He thought he’d go with the less embarrassing of the two. “I just got him to talk to his pre-school teacher.”

Heath’s brows shot up. “I know I suck with remembering time and all, but didn't he start pre-school months ago?”

“
Precisely.”

“
Wow, well…” Heath always got awkward when talking kids. He was good with Gus, when Gus would actually stick around, but it was obvious Mr. Big and Sexy was not a kid person.
What a shame.
Because Cary was finally in a place where he believed his friends when they said he was ready to start dating again. His business was semi-successful, making enough profit to keep him and Gus comfortable, though not rich by any means. He was totally over his ex, which had been a growing process all its own, and Gus was old enough he didn’t freak out about Cary leaving him with a sitter.

And damn if Heath wasn’t right up Cary’s alley. The man was technically up everyone’s alley, though. He had sun-bleached blond hair kept neatly cropped, a gold tan and bright green eyes. And he had the most lickable arms Cary had ever seen. Cary knew the man worked on one of the off-shore oil rigs in the Gulf, hence his phenomenal physique. Aside from loving to imagine Heath’s body glistening with sweat as he worked hard, manual labor on his rig, Cary enjoyed how easily the man laughed. He was genuinely kind, from what Cary could tell of their times volunteering together. And Heath’s love of dogs was a huge plus in Cary’s book.

A feminine hand wrapping around Heath’s well-formed bicep, the blonde attached to it appearing from behind the wall that was Heath.
Oh, yeah, and he’s into girls.
Figures the one guy Cary’d had any real interest in for years was a dog. This girl wasn’t the same one Heath had brought with him the previous month.

Cary sighed inwardly. “Oh, good. You brought extra help.” Heath’s expression was thankful, obviously pleased Cary hadn't thrown in the obvious “Again…” The assistance was always welcome, and even if Cary couldn’t keep his eyes off the other man, Heath had an equally mooning female attached to his side.

“I just love dogs,” she said. Her eyes only left her companion to give Cary the briefest glance. “Thanks for inviting me along, Heathy.”

Cary smirked at Heath’s eye roll and mouthed
Heathy?
Heath simply shrugged and gave his date an indulgent, drop-dead-gorgeous grin. Cary turned, unable to watch the disgusting display.
Because you wouldn’t be looking at him like that if he was
your
date?

“
I finished up the feedings,” he said over his shoulder as he started closing the doors that led to the potty area of each kennel. He turned back to the couple. “If you guys want to do the walks, I can do the cleaning in the back.”

“
Oh, I can do that since you did feedings.”

Cary wanted to scoff at the man for being so oblivious to how grossed out his date looked at the prospect of cleaning up the poopy area of the kennels. He nodded his head toward her. “I’m sure your friend would have more fun with the walking.”

“Oh, yeah…” Heath said.

“
And with the boy entertained in the back, I’ll fly through it.”

Before they walked out, Heath turned to Cary. “Thanks for thinkin’ ahead.” And damn if the man didn’t give Cary one of those looks that made Cary’s heart stutter. He’d often wonder if the guy didn’t swing both ways. No way was he just a closet case, seeming to honestly enjoy his female company just fine when they were around. Hell, he’d even run into Heath in a restaurant or two in Gulf Breeze, publicly displaying his enjoyment of said company. But that look… the almost-longing in his eyes gave Cary pause.

“No problem. Someone’s gotta look out for the poor girls.” No doubt, because Heath seemed clueless where his dates were concerned. Cary would never forget the time Heath had given the last girl he'd brought along their biggest dog to walk. She’d been dragged ten feet through mud before Heath had realized his error. No wonder she hadn’t lasted.

Heath patted Cary’s shoulder, chuckling before he walked off. Cary watched the man’s well-shaped ass bounce in his camo shorts then quickly shook it off. No point drooling over Heath any more. He had poop to scoop.

“
You must go out,” Celine said in her lilting French accent. Cary huffed out an exasperated breath. “This attitude. You’re young. Savannah and I were planning a night in anyway. Gus will be fine.” She sipped her tea, clasping her bony fingers around the cup. She was clearly tired, lines etched in her face, her long black hair pulled into a tight pony-tail. She’d forgone her usual Bohemian skirts for comfier sweats and a t-shirt.

“
You worked all day. I was off. It’s really…”

“
Nothing. It’s nothing. He’s a good boy. Aren’t you Gus?” Gus looked up from his coloring book and smiled sweetly.

“
Good boy,” he said. Cary couldn’t deny it. Precocious was not a word anyone would use to describe  his son. He was quiet most of the time. The only complaint Cary ever had was the mess the boy could create. Other than that, he was easily entertained and rarely fussed. He’d even been quiet as a baby. That had been a blessing for Cary when he’d been adjusting to life with a newborn and two jobs. Celine and her teenage daughter, Savannah, had been life savers at the time, always ready with advice and willing to babysit. Savannah being homeschooled had been a life saver in a couple emergency situations since they had been neighbors.

“
Doesn’t Savannah have something better to do with her night?”

“
She’s grounded,” Celine said, waving off Cary’s concern with a flick of the wrist. “Tell your friend you will come.”

I wish I could come.
Cary so rarely got a chance to date and the couple of guys he’d made it past a night or two with eventually wigged out over the fact he had a kid. Not many gay men his age had that to contend with. Not that twenty-eight was super young, a kid just wasn’t often an issue most gay guys encountered.

Cary looked at the text message from his friend, Kent. Kent was another life-saver, his first employee at The Barkery, now the general manager, who held down the fort so Cary could actually have days off. Since it’d been a long day and they were closed on Sundays, Kent had messaged him to see if he was interested in getting a beer. He really wouldn’t mind going out with him, unwinding and enjoying a kid free night over a beer and a baseball game.

“You’re sure?”

After some tutting and shooing, Celine had shoved Cary out the door insistently. God, did he have great friends. He’d go through the heartbreaking crap with Marshall all over again if it meant ending up with these people in his life. He only hoped he did as much for them as they did him. He could never repay them for all of their help in those first couple years.

After making the quick trip over the Pensacola Bay, he was parking in front of their favorite tavern. It was an old dive sports bar which catered mostly to gay men who didn’t enjoy the club scene. Not that Cary minded the occasional club night, but he preferred to relax with his friend and actually be able to enjoy the game being played on the television.

He spotted Kent within moments of walking in. It was a Saturday, so the bar was fairly busy, the noise level high due to drunk Rays fans chanting from a table as two players rounded home on the screen over the bar.

“Lively crowd, tonight, huh?” He asked, taking a seat next to Kent.

Kent looked up, surprised but pleased when Cary had settled on his bar stool. “Yo, Cary!” They did a brief one-armed hug. “Glad you made it. Good game tonight. The Rays are kicking ass.”

Cary didn’t bother reminding his friend that he was a Red Sox fan. Kent knew, but since he was a huge supporter of their biggest rival, he had to give Cary shit. “How’s little bit?”

“
Good, good. Hanging out with Celine, tonight. She practically forced me out of the house.”

“
Oh, because it’s such a chore to come kick it with your best bud and have a beer.” With that, Kent waved to the bartender, holding up two fingers. Cary groaned, knowing that meant two pitchers rather than two drafts. When the pitchers arrived, Kent poured up two pints and passed one to Cary.

“
Have fun with the dogs today?”

“
Of course. Gus, too. Anything that entertains him is a good thing.”

“
No doubt, my man,” Kent said then let out a whoop as he jumped to his feet, sloshing his beer in his raised glass. “Take it home! Take it home, baby!” And they did. The whole bar erupted and Cary reveled in the company of all the grownups, the beer buzzing nicely in his system and the game on the TV. Gus was not amenable to being quiet long enough to enjoy a game at home. No matter how easily entertained he was, hours-long sports programs were too much to ask of a three-year old.

“
I finally got that recipe sorted out for those carrot treats you wanted to try for the summer special,” Kent said after taking his seat again.

“
Oh? Awesome.” And it really was. They tried to continually add new treats. Each new dog treat had to be teamed with a matching people treat. Pet owners would wander in from walks on the beach and treat themselves as well as their doggy companion.

“
Yeah, it was just a little—”

Kent was interrupted by a man who gestured to the seat on his other side. “This seat taken?”

“No, man. Go for it.” Kent turned back to Cary. “Anyway, so I was thinking next week would be—”

“
Sorry to keep interrupting, guys, but do I know you from somewhere?” This time Kent and Cary both looked at him carefully. His wide, smiling mouth and mischievous eyes definitely seemed slightly familiar but Cary couldn’t place where he may have seen the man.

“
I don’t think so,” Kent supplied.

The guy seemed disappointed by the answer. Kent turned to Cary, rolling his eyes. Cary noticed the leer the guy sent Kent’s way.
Oh.
Cary picked up his beer to hide his grin before taking another long swig. Poor guy didn’t know he was barking up the wrong tree. Sure, Kent was gay and single, but he was not one for hooking up. He had a less active sex life than Cary, and that was saying something, because Cary and his hand had been about as far as his sex life had gone for the last eight or nine months, the stretch before that even longer.

“
Shit,” the guy said. Cary and Kent frowned at each other then looked back to the guy whose smile had faltered. He glanced up, looking at the seat to the other side of Cary. “Would it be a huge imposition to ask you guys to scoot down one?”

Cary shook his head but Kent bristled. “You know there are tables free over there,” he said, pointing at the empty bistro tables in the back. Cary smacked Kent’s arm and mouthed
be nice
. Kent had definitely figured out the guy was hitting on him, so he was turning off what little charm he had. Cary didn’t know why his friend was so against being propositioned but he didn’t feel right asking.

“
Not a problem,” Cary said, grabbing Kent by the sleeve and pulling until they’d both scooted over one.

The guy scooted down, planting his ass down in the seat next to Kent and earning a huff from him in the process. He reached a hand around Kent and held it out. “Thanks, buddy.” Cary took the proffered hand and shook. “My friend struck out with his girl so he said he’s on his way out. We don’t get to do this often so…”

“It’s cool,” Cary assured him.

“
His girl?” Kent asked. “You know this is a gay bar, right?”

Cary elbowed Kent. The other guy suddenly looked horrified. “Oh, shit? Really?” He stood and looked around. “You mean… these guys…
all
of them?”

Kent sneered. “You might wanna take the party elsewhere before your buddy gets the wrong idea.”

“No shit. Thanks for the warning!” The guy sat back down and accepted a fruity looking cocktail. It looked funny in his meaty hand. The guy was a few inches shorter than Cary's six feet but easily had forty pounds of muscle on him, and Cary was no waif. After the guy sipped his cocktail he turned to them again. “Wouldn’t have wanted to drink with straight boys.”

“
You’re an ass,” Kent said with grudging admiration. Cary just chuckled.

“
That’s Kyle, actually.” He held a hand out which Kent accepted this time. “And usually it’s the morning after before I get called names.”

“
Well, I don’t do the night before the morning after so you’ll have to settle for name-calling now. And you really are an ass if you set up a straight friend like that.”

“
Oh, shut up, Kent,” Cary said, nudging his friend’s shoulder. Kent was in rare form tonight.

Kyle laughed. “No, it’s cool. My boy swings whichever way wants to put out. He’s a himbo, but he’s good people.” He took a drink of his cocktail. “He’s a bonafide bisexual.” He gave a mock shudder on the final word. “I’m surprised he’s coming out tonight. Usually I have to drag him kicking and screaming.”

“But he’s bi?” Kent asked. “Wouldn’t that mean he’d be cool coming out to these places?”

Kyle gave a noncommittal shrug, like maybe he’d over shared. He had been awfully forthcoming for a total stranger. “Oh, here he is now.” He set his drink down on the bar and rose to shake hands with his friend. “I was just telling my new friends your life story, here.”

“Of course you were,” the familiar voice washed over Cary. When Kyle sat back down, he met Heath’s eyes over their friends’ heads. Heath’s eyes widened slightly, face flushing with what Cary thought was embarrassment, until he noticed the pleased smirk he’d seen time and time again—the look that had made Cary think the man was interested, even if just a little.

But bisexual? Cary had been on that ride before, granted it was in college and boys at that age are fickle; be they gay, straight, or bi, so lumping Heath in with that particular ex didn’t seem fair.

But hadn’t he
just
been with a woman? And he kinda sucked at taking his dates very seriously from what Cary had seen.

“
Cary, right?” Heath asked, walking over to him.

Cary nodded. “Hey, Heath.”

“You two know each other?” Kent asked, eyeing Heath skeptically.

“
Yeah. We’ve seen each other around,” Heath said, winking.

“
Oh, the plot thickens.” Kyle sounded pleased with himself. “Aren’t you glad I dragged you out, now?”

Heath turned back to his friend. “Shut up, Kyle.” He moved over to sit on the stool that Kyle had saved for him. They didn’t speak much more the rest of the night. Kyle and Kent provided enough entertainment; Kyle antagonizing Kent whenever Kent wasn’t talking too loudly over the television and cheers of drunk sports fans.

Cary was hyperaware of Heath, though. Every time he walked to the bathroom it was like he could feel Heath’s gaze on him. He even caught Heath looking at him a couple times when he peeked over his beer mug. When the game and commentaries were over, the two pitchers of beer killed, Cary checked his watch.

“
Oh, man. I should get going.”

“
What? Why?” Kent blinked heavy lids at him. “We just got started.”

“
I’ve been here three hours. And you, sir—” he touched a finger to Kent’s nose
“—are drunk. Want me to call your roommate?”

Kent glanced Kyle’s direction out the side of his eyes. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Thank goodness.
“Cool, come with me.” He helped Kent off the barstool. When his friend stumbled after a few steps, he felt someone else step in on Kent's other side to help keep his friend on his feet. Expecting Kyle, Cary was surprised to find Heath was the one assisting.

They managed to get Kent to a bench outside. Cary hoped the fresh air helped, because Kent was beginning to look a little green around the gills.

“Where does your boy live?”

“
Milton. I’d take him, but I gotta get home to the kid. This isn’t unusual, though. His roommate won’t mind coming to get him.”

“
I can give him a ride. I live in Navarre.”

“
No, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
I don’t really know you.
Other than Heath being bisexual and a dog lover who was good with Gus, even if it was awkward, he didn’t know Heath from Adam.

“
It’s not a problem. I’ll give you my number and let you know he got home safely.”

“
Um, I don’t know…”

“
You’d be doing me a favor. I really need to get out of here and Kyle will try to keep me here all night.” Heath held out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

Cary eyed the hand warily before handing over his phone. “I’m putting my number in. I’ll shoot a text to my phone.” Within a moment, Heath’s phone dinged to signal he’d received a text. “I’ll even make his roommate call you to let you know he arrived safe and sound. My name’s Heath Cummings. I own Seaventure Charter Fishing in Pensacola Beach if you feel the need to call the police and ask them to vouch for me.” Heath’s eyes danced with amusement.

“Or you could call Celine for a reference.” True. He and Celine seemed friendly whenever he volunteered, and Celine was pretty rigorous about screening her volunteers after one of them had run off with some of their dogs a few years back. There’d been a whole scandal involving dog fighting.