Question Mark (13 page)

“Yeah, but at least I get to sit in a really cramped position the whole time,” said Mark. “Just looking on the bright side.”

Zane realized it would be a good moment to ask to see him, maybe tell him about his own schedule change, but his tongue went numb. The silence was stretching out to the point of discomfort and he couldn’t make his mouth form the right words. Why did this keep happening to him?

Speak, goddammit!

“I’m not trying to be presumptuous,” Mark finally spoke, his words flat. “I know you were planning on coming back here and I’m also not trying to ditch you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, Bakersfield being so close to L.A. and all. I’m not trying to force you into seeing me. It’s just that I should see my family now and this Bora Bora thing was an attempt to…well, never mind that.” The change of tack caught Zane’s attention, but Mark was still talking. “It’s not that I wouldn’t love seeing you if you returned while I was here. I didn’t want you possibly flying back to Bora Bora and wondering what the hell I’d done with myself. That’s all. No pressure.”

Zane blew out a breath. “Are you kidding me? I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to casually throw myself at you. I want to—I’d
love
—to see you. However much I can.”

“Oh… Good. I’m not trying to rob you of
your
vacation though. I’d understand you flying back here to spend time with your friends.” That uncertainty remained strong in Mark’s voice even as he chuckled. “Yet, I gotta tell you, it doesn’t bother me to hear you say you want to throw yourself at me. It’s nice to have an attractive stalker for once. I mean, you should’ve seen the last one I had. Overweight, never shaved…obviously didn’t care about himself.”

 Zane grinned. “I believe in doing a job right.”

“It’s working.” Mark yawned then and Zane tucked the phone to his ear, enjoying the shared quiet moment. “I’ve only got a few minutes, but how’d your party go last night? Did you get the role?”

Zane paused, not knowing how to answer and Mark called him on it.

“What is it? What happened?”

“When I got there last night I found out that my schedule is about to get really ugly,” Zane began, “so I wasn’t going to be able to make it back to Bora Bora. I
did
get the part in
Sacrifice
, which is the good news, but pre-production’s moving forward. I have a couple wardrobe meetings and fittings next week and training stuff beginning soon. It’s all coming together faster than I anticipated is all.”

“Wow. So, no vacation for you, regardless?”

“Uhm…not really, no.”

“Congratulations on the part, though. You’ve got me all interested in this guy’s story. I’ll have to pick up the book in Bakersfield.”

Hearing such a supportive comment tossed out in that casual way had a warmth spreading from Zane’s chest outward. “I’ll let you borrow my copy, if you want. I might need it back when I’m on set, but that’s not for a while yet.”

There was a rumbling in the background and Zane recognized the familiar sound of the shuttle boat arriving. “Sounds like you’ve got to get going,” he said, reluctant to end the conversation without knowing when they could see one another. “Have a safe trip.”

“I’ll call when I get in, if you want.”

“I want,” Zane murmured.

***

Reid was leaning against his car in the drop-off/pickup lane at the small airport by the time Mark made his way out of the baggage claim. He wasn’t as tired as he thought he’d be since he had a window seat on the eight hour flight from Tahiti and slept four hours of it—likely a gruesome sight. His layover at LAX was short and he walked as fast as he could between terminals to stretch his legs out. All he wanted now was a beer and something homemade from his mom’s kitchen.

Mark called out his brother’s name and the authentic pleasure on Reid’s face was another indication that Mark was doing the right thing, vacation money be damned. The two exchanged a back slapping hug and Reid held him at arm’s length just to stare.

“You’re skinny. Mom’s going to stuff you with chicken enchiladas—and speaking of mom—I’m going to hell for lying to her about why I couldn’t make it to dinner tonight. I’m blaming it on you when I meet St. Pete at the gates.”

Mark thrust his carryon bag right at Reid’s stomach, almost knocking the wind out of him. “Noted. I’m starving anyway. You can take me straight home.”

Reid popped the trunk of his Lexus, hefting Mark’s other bag in without a hitch. Same old flashy brother, same old flashy car, Mark thought. God love him.

“I told Sean you were coming and he’s pissed that he can’t make it in for a couple of days,” Reid said with a grunt. “Something’s going on with the ball club now…contract issues with one of the players and even though it’s a short hop from S.F., he’s gotta stick around until it’s taken care of.”

Sean was a Players Association liaison for the Giants—a Club Player Representative—and it always seemed like he was elbow deep in contract fine print. He had the eye for it, and even with all the squabbling, he still loved the game. Mark had been able to meet some of his favorite players through Sean and get a sweet behind the scenes look at the ball club. Sean once introduced him to a serious hottie on the pitching staff, but that only made it as far as a few episodes of phone-sex before fizzling out. The pitcher was too closeted even for Mark.

“I’ll be in town until Sunday, so even if Sean gets here on Thursday, we’ll get some good time in together.”

Reid started drumming the steering wheel in time with the radio and burst into an off-key version of John Mellencamp’s
Jack and Diane
right as Mark’s phone vibrated in his pocket. His heart dipped down into the region of his small intestine, then shot back up when Zane’s gorgeous face came to mind. Sure would be nice if that vibration moved a little to the right, he thought.

Mark really hoped it was Zane returning his call from earlier. There wasn’t much time during the layover to let Zane know he’d made it safely to L.A., and Mark had only been able to leave a message.

When he wrestled the phone out of his pocket and saw the display, Mark’s heart went on the same ride all over again. His face stretched in a smile and the stupid giddiness of knowing they were in the same state had him shaking.

“Hey,” Mark said huskily, realizing too late that he’d purred in the presence of his brother.

Balls.

Reid cocked an eyebrow and made a show of dialing down the volume, his attention flashing between the road and his brother in the passenger seat. He mimicked Mark’s “hey” in the background, laying it on thick. Mark flipped him off.

“You made it—hell, you’re even in my neighborhood,” Zane answered, the power of his voice creating a low level buzz through Mark’s body. Apparently, they were both riding the same vibe, like their proximity was amping up that draw toward one another.

“Any chance I’ll get to find out what’s behind that tone sometime soon?” asked Mark.

Reid was practically convulsing in the driver’s seat as he listened to the full-on flirt Mark was rocking. He was laughing as he mouthed
Slut!
at him. God, Mark would never hear the end of it.

Zane seemed caught off guard by the invitation in Mark’s voice and sucked in a breath. “I-I didn’t want to be too pushy, but after a morning meeting, I can head your way…be in town about ten?”

Mark wanted to let out a whistle and kicked himself for skidding further toward attachment. It was like he couldn’t help himself. He was compelled to be near this man even with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to handle what was he getting himself into.

Without questioning himself, or thinking about how he would explain the sudden presence of Zane Whitlow, action/adventure movie star, in his parent’s living room, Mark gave him the address and said he’d meet him there. Ten o’clock.

Zane had another evening meeting, so the call was short, but sweet. Mark was going to get to see his own personal heartthrob tomorrow. And—wait—

Oh shit.

Zane was going to meet his
family
…and he’d known Mark for only forty-eight hours. Too fast. Too soon.
This is what happens when you let your dick do the thinking
, he swore to himself. This was probably a huge mistake. Zane would have to meet Reid and the parents…

It was the only way to be together. How was Mark supposed to pass it up? Did he need to remind himself about that kiss?

When he’d pocketed his phone again, he met his brother’s wickedly gleaming eyes and exhaled in defeat.

“Sinner…” Reid elbowed him meaningfully. “Who’s coming to visit? Hmm?” His voice shot up a couple octaves. “Got yourself a boyfriend?”

Mark rolled his eyes and pointed ahead. “Watch the road, dumbass.”

“Ahhh…Marky love you long time, sailor,” Reid cooed.

Giving a supplicating look towards the heavens, Mark slouched in his seat. Tomorrow could be a real disaster.

***

Fifteen minutes to ten o’clock and Zane was rapidly closing the distance to Mark’s parents’ house. He was nervous. His stomach hurt and he wasn’t sure he’d make it through this experience without enduring some pretty intense abdominal issues. Man, he didn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way. Had he ever been this nervous about seeing someone? The last few guys he dated didn’t have parents to meet since they’d obviously crawled out from under rocks, so Zane was able to avoid the less-than-spectacular milestone of first introductions. Of course…he didn’t even know if what was happening between Mark and him was officially “dating.” He was taken with Mark, but how did they really
date
in this situation?

Each time his body started wacking out from the pressure—sweating, shaking, stomach gurgling—he realized all over again that he was at least getting to see Mark. Twenty-four hours ago he was certain their chance to date or get to know one another was shot to hell. Now, here he was, windows down and a pleasant breeze moving over his skin on his way to Bakersfield. Sounded like a cheesy country song. Hmm. Mark probably looked hot in cowboy boots.

Zane spent the evening before reading up on subject matter for
Sacrifice
and signing paperwork. He was supposed to do a photo shoot for
Men’s Health
on the following Monday and as he looked over the schedule and his call time, he’d been entirely distracted by thoughts of Mark. If the guy put any more of
whatever
it was he was doing with his voice into their conversations, Zane wasn’t going to be able to speak to him anymore. He’d greet Mark by humping his leg.

Zane’s schedule was full the following day, so he’d waffled back and forth on packing for an overnight stay. He didn’t want to assume anything and he also didn’t want to offend Mark’s parents. He knew from their dinner together how supportive Mark’s family was, but that didn’t always translate when a boyfriend was tiptoeing to the bathroom in his undies. Push come to shove, Zane could get a hotel room nearby, but it would be a rough drive early in the morning. If only he could stay and get Mark alone…

And change of subject, please!
he thought, fidgeting in his seat. His body was so on board for dark deeds and his heart was back to thumpity-thumping again.

Zane’s Australian-accented GPS squawked that it was “recalculating” and his attention jerked back to the road. He had to flip a U-turn and go back. He was almost there; his GPS yapped like the countdown on a ticking time bomb.

Crap. He was sweating again.

Mark’s parents lived in the third house on the left. It was a butter-yellow ranch style home with flowering pots, rose bushes, stone walkways, and even a couple garden gnomes. He thought of how much his own mom would love it. She could talk about gardening and landscaping for ten hours straight even though she had a terrible track record with plant life.

Zane didn’t want to pull in the drive because he’d block in a silver Lexus and an older Toyota so he parked across the street and cut his engine, sending up a couple gibberish prayers as his thoughts turned to putty. This was it.
The moment.

Hell, his stomach hurt. If he had to throw up, where was the best place to do it?

He thrust open the heavy truck door and slid out, nonchalantly scanning the house’s façade for any signs of life. Just then the screen door opened and Mark stepped out onto the porch in all his glory, a pair of shorts, sneakers and a t-shirt displaying him to perfection. Zane was thrilled he hadn’t under dressed with his own jeans and Diesel button-down.

Mark waved and jogged toward him, his pecs moving beneath the fabric of his shirt and shorting out Zane’s link to earth.

He pushed his door all the way open and leaned against it, one hand bracing him. “You look…” he began as Mark crossed the street, “fucking irresistible.
Damn.
”