Waiting for Ty (6 page)

He didn’t want to lead Landon on. Landon was an optimist. Had to be in his line of work. If anything was more hopeless that finding a cure for cancer, Ty didn’t know what it was. And yet, Landon truly believed that scientists would find a cure in his lifetime.

Fucking optimist.
He loved that about him.

A long, deep sigh escaped him. Ty had to make it clear that they couldn’t be anything more than friends. Couldn’t even be friends with benefits. Sitting in a parking lot trying to avoid that discussion wasn’t going to make it any easier. A couple of beers might.

No. The beers had gotten him into this situation. The beers and basketball.

Chapter Eight

Landon inhaled the mouthwatering smoke sifting from the sides of the small round grill, where the steaks were searing. His stomach growled. From the lone, plastic chair on the balcony, he saw Ty’s white, extended-cab pickup lumber into the parking lot. His heart lurched like a drunken frat boy. All day he’d worried about what Ty would say when he returned.

He stood, rolled his head and shoulders, trying to loosen the tension in his neck and back, then leaned into the wrought iron railing. When Ty climbed out of the truck, Landon lifted his hand in acknowledgement. Ty gave a short wave back and then slammed the truck door. The alarm chirped and the headlights flashed. He looked good in his khaki chinos, white dress shirt and blue-patterned tie, but Landon had to admit that he preferred him in worn blue jeans and a T-shirt.

His navy jacket hooked on a finger over his shoulder, Ty crossed the parking lot, his normally loose-hipped gait stiff. Landon tried not to guess what that meant as he opened the sliding glass door and headed to the kitchen for a beer. He met Ty with the front door open and extended the longneck.

Ty shook his head. “I need to eat something first.”

“Soda?” he offered.

“Yeah. I’ll get it.”

Landon’s appetite abandoned him at the hopeless expression on Ty’s face, but he forced himself to sound upbeat, unconcerned. “Steaks are almost done. While you’re in the kitchen, can you get the plates and stuff and take the potatoes out of the oven?”

“Sure.” Ty headed for the kitchen. “Smells great. I’m starving.”

His heart pounding, Landon tried to keep his step light when he walked back to the balcony to check the steaks.
It’ll be okay
, he told himself. Hands shaking, he lifted the grill’s lid and pressed a finger in the center of each of the two New York strips. Medium rare. Perfect. Too bad he wouldn’t be able to appreciate them.

When he carried them inside, Ty had already set the bar with two white ceramic plates, forks, steak knives and paper towels. Landon slid the platter of steaks on the bar between their dinner plates. “Give ’em a few minutes to rest and we’ll be ready to go,” he said.

Ty snagged a potholder, opened the oven door, grabbed a huge baked potato and put it on Landon’s plate before repeating the process with his own. He closed the oven door with his foot while simultaneously opening the refrigerator. He managed to juggle the butter, sour cream and a bag of shredded cheddar cheese to the bar in one trip.

With everything ready, they sat on barstools and began to load their potatoes.

“How’d the meeting go?” Landon asked.

“Great,” Ty said enthusiastically. “I got documentation and more names, plus another interview tomorrow.”

His hopes soared. “So you’re staying another night?”

“Yeah.” Ty ducked his head but not fast enough to hide the guilt in his eyes. “What did you do today?”

Landon tried to tamp down his growing sense of dread. “Checked email. Did laundry. Avoided my sister’s calls.” He nodded toward their plates. “Went to the grocery store.”

Ty speared a steak with his fork and transferred it to his plate. “Which sister?”

“Nikki.”

“Why not take Nikki’s calls? I can understand Meredith. She’s scary. But Nikki?” He cut off a hunk of meat and put it in his mouth.

Landon picked at the baked potato with his fork, not eating it, just stabbing the chunks into smaller and smaller pieces until it resembled mashed potatoes. “It’s weird, but Nikki can always tell when something’s wrong. Must be something in my voice, because she picks up on it, even on the phone.” He shrugged. “I figured everyone would be better off if she conversed with my voice mail until we worked things out.”

Ty swallowed and laid his fork on the plate. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared somberly at Landon. “You want to talk about this now?”

“After dinner,” he said.
Shit.
He didn’t want to talk about it at all. He just wanted everything to be okay.

“Well, I’m done, and you’re sure as hell not eating.”

He looked up, surprised.

Ty nodded to the potato. “Ever heard of potatocide?”

Landon followed Ty’s gaze, although he already knew what he’d see. He allowed a small smile. “Guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.”

“All right, then. Let’s talk.” Ty swiveled around on the bar stool until he faced Landon then asked in a harsh voice, “What would your coworkers think if they knew you were fucking a man?”

The question didn’t bother him, but the tone of voice made him cringe and deflated what little hope he’d managed to hold on to all day. “Depends. Some would be okay with it. Some wouldn’t.”

“Would you lose your job?”

“No. I work with openly gay researchers.”

“You’re gay?” Ty asked.

“No. Bi.” He didn’t ask the next logical question, whether or not his friend was gay. It didn’t really matter. Besides, the way Ty was with women, he had to be bi. Of course, it could be an act. After all, until yesterday, he’d thought Ty was straight.

“But you’ve never been with a man before?”

“I’ve considered it. But I’ve never wanted a man badly enough to deal with the repercussions. Not until you.”

Ty grimaced and his glance slid away. “What about your family? How would they react?”

He’d speculated about that often enough, but the answers weren’t easy. “I can’t say for sure. You know I’m not that close to my parents, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“What about your sisters? You’re solid with them.”

“I think if I’m happy, they’re happy.” He paused, afraid to voice his next thought, afraid of the answer. “I’m guessing your family is pretty conservative.”

“Oh, yeah. They’d disown me.”

Landon didn’t want to come between Ty and his family, but he didn’t want to lose him either. “And your job?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly.

“Why?” he asked, truly bewildered. Why would loving a man matter? Ty was a great reporter, a great writer. Who he loved didn’t change that.

“Texas is good-old-boy politics, and the good old boys are often my sources. It’s important that they feel comfortable with me. I don’t know how being gay would affect their comfort level. Would they see me as less effective and maybe feel less threatened? Or would they be afraid of me coming on to them?”

Landon was surprised. “You’re gay?”

“No, but people don’t understand bi. If I’m sleeping with men, I’m gay. If I’m sleeping with men and women, I’m a gay in denial.”

“Do you know any other gay or bi reporters?”

“Yeah. And a few of them cover state politics. But they don’t get the stories I do.”

“Because you’re good at your job.”

“Maybe.”

“Huh-uh. You’re a fucking great reporter.” There was still one thing Landon didn’t know. “If you didn’t have to worry about everyone’s reactions, would you want something more...with me?” He held his breath, waiting for the only answer that really mattered. Because if Ty wanted more, there was hope. Even if they didn’t work it out today or tomorrow or next week, there was still the chance of a relationship in the future. Maybe next month. Maybe next year. Landon was willing to wait for it.

“What I want and what I can have are two different things.”

“What do you want?”

Ty’s expression softened. “You. But my family...”

Ty didn’t need to say more. Landon understood better than anyone the importance of family. Anyway, he could work with that. He felt like Ty had just handed him the cure for cancer. He could barely contain his joy as he squeezed Ty’s thigh. “So we keep it quiet. We don’t tell our families. We don’t tell our friends or coworkers.”

Ty’s eyes widened. “You’d be okay with that?” he asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

“Better than nothing.” He shrugged. Hell, he’d take Ty anyway he could get him. “And maybe later...”

“Huh-uh. We won’t live that long.”

“You’re such a pessimist.”

“You’re such a fucking optimist.”

Landon chuckled at the running joke. “Have to be in my line of work.”

Ty’s cell rang. He reached for it then stopped, his hand hovering over his back pocket.

“Go ahead. Take the call. It might be your story.”

“Thanks. I’ll make it quick.”

Ty slid off the chair and crossed the den to the sliding glass door while he spoke on the phone. More interested in mulling over the last few minutes, Landon didn’t listen in. Their talk was going a lot better than he’d expected. Ty
wanted
him,
wanted
a relationship with him. Landon almost couldn’t believe it. He’d loved him for so long but hadn’t dared to dream of a life with him. He’d never believed Ty would love him, not the way he loved Ty. He was so excited he was almost bursting out of his skin.

Sure, he’d rather not have to worry about hiding his feelings. But after keeping them from the man who mattered most, it would be a relief to be honest with him.

Yep, this could work out. All he had to do was keep Ty focused on the positive.

Ty interrupted Landon’s mental celebration. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

Both men were silent then. Landon watched Ty’s face. He could tell he was thinking, going over everything they’d discussed. But he couldn’t tell
what
he was thinking, what conclusion he was drawing.

Ty shook his head, frowning. “We wouldn’t be able to hide it for long.”

“Why not? We live in two different cities.” He crossed his arms, stuffing his hands in his armpits. He should tell him about Yvonne. But she was the exception. If her brother hadn’t been gay, if he hadn’t killed himself, she wouldn’t have known. Still, he developed an uncommon interest in his tennis shoes, and his gut churned at the omission. “We just keep doing what we’re doing. Friends in public. Sex in private.”

Ty didn’t say anything, so Landon risked a glance at him. His head was cocked to the side, his expression thoughtful. Landon returned his attention to his shoes and waited.

Chapter Nine

Landon was as honest as a July day was long, so Ty almost dismissed the signs. When Landon pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest, Ty figured he was protecting himself emotionally. But when he began studying the carpet, Ty knew there was something more.

Still he almost felt disloyal when he asked, “What aren’t you telling me?” Because it was possible he was mistaken.

Landon squirmed on the barstool and lifted his gaze. He was definitely hiding something. Ty had never seen such a contrite, hangdog expression. What could possibly be so bad that Landon was afraid to tell him? Hell, they’d bared their hearts and souls to each other over the last two days.

Ty leaned forward, hooked his fingers in Landon’s hands and pulled them toward him, opening Landon’s defensive posture. “Come on,” Ty said gently. “After all we’ve been through, it can’t be that bad.”

Landon cleared his throat and swallowed. His muscles tensed as if he were steeling himself. “It’s my neighbor, Yvonne. She knows.”

Ty blinked, certain he’d misunderstood. “Your neighbor knows what?”

“About us.”

That was impossible. Unless... “You told her?”

Landon’s eyes widened, and his head jerked back as if Ty had punched him. “No.”

Ty dropped Landon’s hands. “Then how the hell does she know? I sure didn’t tell her. I hadn’t even met her until yesterday.” The woman who’d seemed so pissed with him. It still didn’t explain her disdain, unless she was homophobic.

“First, you need to calm down and listen to me.”

Ty took a deep breath, then another. It didn’t help his anger, but he managed to keep his mouth shut. His brain, however, was another story. Someone knew. Someone other than him and Landon. And if one person knew, another would soon follow. He’d chased down enough “secrets” to know that there were no secrets. His job depended on those loose lips.

“Yvonne figured it out from watching me,” Landon said.

“How? Our friends don’t know. Your sisters don’t even know.” He stiffened. “Do they?”

“No, they don’t.” Landon’s fingers scraped along his scalp and tugged at his hair.

How was it that he hadn’t gone bald? The thought came out of nowhere, and Ty marveled at the absurdity of it.

“Her brother was gay. He killed himself. I think it makes her more...” He seemed to struggle for words. “I don’t know. I guess it makes her more observant, more tuned in to people’s emotions. Anyway, I didn’t say anything to her. She just noticed that I was always happy before your visits and kind of down after.”

Ty was dumbfounded.

“I think she was afraid I would do something stupid, and she wanted me to be able to talk to someone if I needed to.” His voice became firm. “But I didn’t. I swear, Ty. I never talked to her about you.”

Ty had never seen anything in Landon’s personality that hinted at the kind of desperate hopelessness that would lead to suicide. Yvonne didn’t know Landon like he did. Landon was rock solid.

“She won’t say anything. She made a point of telling me that. I didn’t even have to ask her to keep it quiet.”

Ty scrubbed his hands up and down his face. Didn’t matter what the woman said. She would talk—tell her husband, a friend, another friend, maybe her mother or a sister. Hell, someone could have overheard her talking to Landon.

Landon began pacing. “She’s one person.
One person.
Out of all the people we know who’ve seen us together, she’s the only one who’s figured it out. And now that we know
how
she figured it out, we can be more careful.
I
can be more careful.”