Alex & Clayton (11 page)

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Authors: John Simpson

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Alex & Clayton
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“With my knowledge of books, inventory control, expenses and such, I intend to make a big success of my business. I intend to have a large Internet presence to sell books. That way, no matter what the weather is like, whether I’m open or closed, awake or asleep, someone can buy books from my store twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

“What about your personal life? You live in what is arguably gay resort central, and surely with your looks and brains, you can not only have proper dates but have a good relationship that doesn’t involve holes in walls! Tell me, what attracts you to a man?”

“Hmm, I guess everyone has a type, and I suppose Blake comes close to it, at least physically. I like men who are men, rugged, don’t smoke, have decent bodies, smart, possess a personality, and like books. The most important physical trait to me is the face and what a man’s face tells me about the rest of him.”

“I’m surprised. Most guys would say he has to have a big dick, a six-pack, or a bubble butt, something along those lines. You didn’t mention any of that.”

“That’s because a man can’t do anything about what he has in his pants. If he’s big, he’s big, but if he came out on the short end of the genetic pool, then he has a small dick. Either way, you don’t throw away an entire man based on the size of his penis. That’s just stupid. You spend probably twenty-three hours a day with the rest of the man and maybe one hour with his penis. I must confess, though, I do admire a great ass. If a man’s got that along with the other stuff, I’m happy. Of course, I’ve never really had a chance to check out a guy’s naked ass up close and personal where I could touch and feel it. I’d like to run my hand over the cheeks. Sorry, guess that’s a little too much information,” Clay said as he laughed and turned red once more.

“No, it’s kinda refreshing to hear your perspective on what’s important physically. Okay, overall, what’s the most important thing about a man, physical or nonphysical?” Alex asked.

“I know it sounds corny, but a man’s heart would be most important to me. If he’s a warm, loving man who sees the good in people, leads a life doing no harm to others, and has a genuine love for the important things in life, then that guy has a lot going on for himself.”

“What about you? What kind of heart do you have?” Alex asked with a smile.

“Me? Oh, pretty much just like I described. Maybe that’s why I find that most attractive in other men. I value tenderness when it’s called for and strength of character when needed. All of which I’d say you have in spades. I believe most men who become cops are at their core very good men. Of course, there are always bad apples in every barrel, so some cops are the antithesis of what they should be. But that is the nature of man in many respects. He has the free will to be either a good man or a bad man. I can’t begin to imagine you as a bad cop.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“Because you are a good man at your very center. It would be against your nature to choose to be evil or to act against the greater good. That’s why you were so dedicated to your job. You placed your profession over your personal needs. It takes a special guy to do that.”

“Does that mean I get to have another date with you?” Alex asked, smiling.

“I’d be delighted to see you again outside of the bookstore. One of your sexiest traits is that you’re a gentleman, very unlike Blake.”

“Good Lord, we’ve been talking for three hours! Kinda late now to start a movie. Shall we save that for another night?” Alex asked.

Clay looked at his watch and nodded. “Yeah, I’m kinda tired, but I have to tell you, I haven’t enjoyed an evening like this, ever! The food was truly outstanding and the company even better. Thank you so much for having me over tonight,” he said as he got up.

“You feel okay to drive?”

“Oh, I’m fine. While I’m not a big booze hound, I had to drink a lot of wine on the county cocktail-party circuit to line up funds, and I developed a tolerance for it.”

As they stood at the door, Alex asked, “May I kiss you?”

“I was kinda hoping you’d ask.”

Alex took Clay into his arms and kissed him gently several times, holding him closely to his chest. Finally, he stepped back and kissed Clay one more time.

“Thank you for a great evening. I like you, and I wanna see you again.”

“I think we can arrange that. Good night, and thank you for a wonderful evening,” Clay said and walked to his car.

Alex watched him until Clay got his seat belt fastened and drove off. He went back inside, closed the door, and smiled at the foyer mirror.

“Damn, that boy turns me on!” he said. He then patted the bulge in his pants. “Sorry, ol’ boy, but not tonight. This is a different kind of guy, and he’s worth waiting for. You’ll get your chance, just not until he’s ready.”

Alex laughed softly as he locked up the house. He collected the dishes, filled the dishwasher, and turned it on. He switched off the lights and went to his bedroom. He knew very well what he was going to do once he got into bed, naked with his thoughts of Clay.

 

 

C
LAY
was in a bit of a daze as he drove home, careful not to have an accident while thinking about the handsome cop, the wonderful dinner, the conversation that lasted all night, and he didn’t have to fend off roaming hands. But, if truth be told, he might not have objected to this particular man doing a little exploring.

When he got home, he went straight to bed. Even though he didn’t have to get up early on Sunday mornings, keeping to the same schedule made it easier the rest of the week.

 

 

F
OR
some reason, Alex and Clay were doing the same thing in the privacy of their bedrooms.

 

 

A
S
THE
weather grew colder, Clayton had fewer and fewer customers walking into the store. As a result, he decided to close on Mondays and cut his hours on the remaining days, not opening until nine in the morning and closing at three. He intended to concentrate on growing his online business so that he would sell more and more books on the Internet.

He saw Alex occasionally in the store, and he had been asked out again, but he had declined for the time being, telling Alex that he wanted to work on his business. Alex finally got mad over the rejections of a second date.

“Clay, I walked over here today not for books, because I still have two that I haven’t read. And I haven’t read them because I’m thinking about you all the time. We had a great evening together, and now you won’t give me a second date! Don’t I deserve some kind of explanation?” Alex asked, his face flushing as he grew angry.

“I enjoyed that evening very much, and we’ll do it again some time. Just not now please. I have a business to grow here, and I won’t have any time during the summer to do what I’m doing now on the Internet side of the house. It’s my job!”

“Look, who do you think you’re kidding? I’ve picked up on all the clues that you come from money. I’ve spent too many years around people who have so much money that they don’t know how much money they have. You’re not that kind of rich, and you may not even have a million in the bank, but I’d bet you don’t have to work to put food on your table! Am I right?”

“That’s personal, and I’m not going to discuss my finances with you! One date does not give you the right to know everything there is about me. Just give me some time, that’s all I’m really asking for!”

“Maybe I was too hard on Blake. Maybe you
are
just a cock tease,” Alex said and stormed out of the store.

Clay sat down on his stool behind the counter. It was going to take more than a few weeks in Rehoboth for him to even begin to overcome the years-long habit of protecting who he really was and to loosen up on how he was expected to act in public and private. You don’t just go telling a relative stranger about how much money you have, for one thing! Was he ready to face head-on the situation that he’d been carefully avoiding all of his life? He thought by buying the gay bookstore in town, that he was already making a massive public statement. Why was it necessary to get a boyfriend or any of that kind of stuff?

The weather was windy and chilly, and there was no one in the store, so Clayton decided to close early. He shut down his laptop and put it and the proceeds from the one sale of the day into the small safe. He then locked up and left the shop. But instead of going to his car, he walked the block to the boardwalk and took a stroll. He looked out at the gray sky, the whitecaps on the water, and the deserted beach. He tried to imagine what it would be like in high summer with all the shops open, full of tourists and locals enjoying life.

But until then, he had five more months of winter to get through. As he looked both ways, up and down the boardwalk, he saw not a single shop or eatery that was open. Rehoboth Beach was officially closed for the season. There were a few restaurants that were year-round businesses taking care of the locals, and the vice president liked to come to town once in a great while to dine at his favorite French restaurant. But other than that, people were just preparing for the harshness of winter. They had houses to protect, and any house exposed to the beach and sea would need great care to get it through the season.

Blowing sand would take the paint off a house fairly quickly if too many windstorms blew up the coast. That was one reason he didn’t want a beachfront house, even if he could have afforded it. He turned around and left the boardwalk, now slightly depressed. The weather matched his mood as he tried to deal with leaving the closet that had been his security for so many years. Was he ready to face the reality of his life? Was he ready to fully trust another man?

Chapter Seven

 

W
HEN
he went a solid week without a customer, Clayton made a decision. He would open one day a week until after Thanksgiving and return to five days a week during the second week of December to take advantage of the holiday season. After Christmas, he would close up until February first, which would give him all the time he needed to finish the Internet side of his business. It would also save on utilities at the shop. After all, what was the sense of heating and lighting a business if no one came?

It was November fifth when he put up a notice of his new schedule in the window of Clayton’s Rainbow so that people would have some advance warning. He had chosen Saturdays to be open, hoping that the weekends would bring some visitors to Rehoboth. After putting up the sign, he picked up the mail and found a notice from the post office that he had a book shipment waiting for him. Since it was the US mail and not one of the other carriers, it had to be a small shipment. No more were due until after the holidays.

He closed the shop up, put the mail in his laptop bag, and went over to the post office where he did indeed find a shipment of fifteen books from one publisher. He threw them in the trunk of the car along with his laptop and went grocery shopping. As he entered the store, he was going through his mental shopping list of the things he needed at home.

He grabbed a cart, smiled at one of the cute checkout boys, and headed for the produce section. He’d picked up almost everything he needed when he turned down a new aisle and literally slammed into a cart that was stopped.

“Hello, Clayton,” Alex said. “Glad to see you’re still alive at least.”

“Sorry about banging into you. Good to see you too,” he replied as he moved his cart back to let other people through. He stayed put in front of the milk aisle, and when Alex started to go on with his shopping, Clay stopped him.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“I suppose,” Alex said. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I was thinking about you last night and was going to call you. Thanksgiving is coming up, and I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner. Unless you already have plans, of course,” Clay said with a nervous stutter.

“Lemme check my calendar at home, and I’ll give you a call at the store.”

“I have a new schedule. I’m only open for six hours on Saturdays until the second week in December. I’ll be at home tomorrow, so if you could call me there and let me know, I’d appreciate it. I’d really enjoy having you as a guest. Plus, we have to get some art on your walls.”

“Funny you should mention that. I assumed that with Christmas coming soon, it might force some galleries to have sales, so I thought after Thanksgiving would be a good time to pick up a few pieces. But this is all kinda sudden, isn’t it? I mean, we haven’t talked in almost three weeks and now all this. What gives?”

“Alex, I told you that this was not about you. I wanted to concentrate on my business, and by the end of February, it will all be set up the way I want it. Then it will practically run itself, and I’ll have more time to explore things.”

“Explore things? What? Do I look like another planet or form of life?” Alex asked with a slight edge to his voice.

“No, of course not! I meant explore things about myself. Please, give me a chance to tell you and show you more about me. I have to take things slowly. I’m just not used to being free,” he said, looking down at the floor.

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