Rough Road (19 page)

Another voting machine opens, and I go do what I can to choose my fate. It’s not easy to let Romeo win. I know, here in this voting booth, nobody can see which way I vote. I could walk out, say anything I wanted, and no one would be the wiser. But there’s only one way I can possibly vote and still like myself afterward.

When it’s done, even though it’s illegal, I snap a picture of my ballot—and my vote in favor of the tax increase—and send it to Wish, with a note:

Yes to dinner.

I don’t get his reply until I’m driving to work, and I don’t check it until I pull up in front of the marina. When I look at the screen, his answer brings a smile to my face.

For me? <3 Thank you.

Max opens the door, claps me on the shoulder, and invites me inside. I hand Carrie the vase of lilies I brought with me, and she smiles and fusses over them as though no one ever gave her a hostess gift before. She sets them on the table, a bright-pink centerpiece, and turns to me.

“Wish is in the backyard manning the grill. You want a beer?”

“Sure.”

She disappears into the kitchen and returns a moment later with a cold bottle of Sam Adams. I thank her and take in my surroundings.

The house is a small ranch, with the kitchen and dining area on one side of the entryway, and the living room on the other. A hallway to one side leads to the garage, and another on the other side to the bedrooms. The whole house could fit in one corner of mine, but it’s everything mine isn’t: inviting, cozy. I cross through the living area to the sliding glass door, open it, and step out onto a concrete-slab patio. Kelly, reading a book in a hammock in the backyard, waves to me, and I return the wave. Wish, wearing nothing but a pair of khaki shorts, flip-flops, and a backward baseball cap, grins at me and tugs me into a languid kiss.

“You are my favorite person right now,” he says as he pulls away.

“You’re mine.” I kiss the end of his nose, and he playfully swats at me with the spatula.

“Hey now, none of that with the grill tools,” Max admonishes as he follows me through the door. “Polls just closed.”

I look down at my watch. Sure enough, it’s seven o’clock. I shrug at Wish, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Hey, if it doesn’t pass, I’m still gonna try to stay here.” He lifts my chin with one finger. “I’m not going anywhere unless I can’t find work.”

Still, the atmosphere is a little strained over dinner. Carrie has to ask me three times to pass the rolls, as I mull the best way to discuss contingency plans with Wish. Even if he doesn’t want to work for me, I have friends who could give him a job. Even a temporary one until another construction project comes through.

“Edward, what are your plans for the dealership if the bill passes? Are you going to move it or close it?” Kelly asks, as if it’s simple small talk.

“I haven’t decided, actually. I have a significant investment in stock, so moving the dealership is likely, but only if an appropriate property can be developed for a reasonable price. In the meantime, I’ve got my broker searching for property.”

“Seems a shame no matter which way it goes, one of you is screwed,” Carrie says, looking back and forth between me and Wish. “I don’t envy you.”

Wish glares at her. “Eddie and I will work it out. Other relationships have been through worse, you know.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.” She blushes.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I reassure her. “Wish and I are trying to set a record for the highest number of awkward family dinners one relationship can survive.”

After dinner, Max asks if we want to play cards, but Wish puts him off, reminding him he needs to work early.

“You’re just scared to lose,” Max teases.

“More like scared to see you cry when you lose to my big gay boyfriend,” Wish teases back.

“Oh, ho!” Max throws a faux punch, and just like that they’re wrestling like overgrown puppies.

Kelly rolls her eyes. “Will you two ever grow up?”

“They’re hopeless.” Carrie sighs, then turns to me. “Want to check the election results? You haven’t taken your hand off your phone all night.”

“I’m not sure.” I shrug. “I don’t know if I want to find out with him, or alone.”

“Just about everything is better faced together.” She smiles at me. “But maybe alone together would be best.”

“Can I help you with the dishes?” I ask, deftly pulling a chair out of the way of a flailing leg.

“No, thank you. I’m particular about my kitchen. Max!” She kicks at the flying foot, and both the Carver men sit up, sheepish looks on their faces.

“Sorry.” Max stands up and pulls Wish to his feet. “It’s a brother thing.”

Wish gives Max a one-armed hug. “Sorry,” he mutters to Carrie, but I can tell from the way his eyes are sparkling that he doesn’t really mean it.

“Well,” I start, “thank you for a lovely dinner, but I’m going to head out now. Wish, can I talk to you before I go?”

“If you wait just a minute for me to find my shirt, I’ll come with you.” He heads off to the back patio, disappears for a moment, then returns, pulling a blue T-shirt over his head and knocking his baseball cap to the floor. He picks it up and gives me a bashful grin as he puts it back on his head. “Ready when you are.”

I watch his headlights in my rearview as we head toward the lake, all the way to my driveway. I park the Mercedes inside, and he leaves his truck in the drive, locking up and following me.

It reminds me of that first time, the day I met him, when I stripped for him right there in the garage and then took him inside and let him change my life.

How could I have known a few months ago that he’d become this important to me?

“Wish, how much time is left on your lease at your apartment?”

He stops, cocks his head, and answers me slowly. “Three more months. Then I go month to month until the current project is finished.”

“Would you consider moving in here with me instead?”

He stares, his lips moving as he repeats my words silently to himself, then out loud, “Move in with you?”

“Yes. Move in with me. Live with me.”

“If the tax increase doesn’t pass—I wouldn’t be able to pay you rent.”

“I don’t want—” I stop as his mouth tightens. “I am inviting you to live with me and be my partner. I don’t expect you to pay me rent.”

He lets out a rough breath. “I don’t know. I feel like you’re grasping at something to keep me here.”

I grip my hands together behind my back so he can’t see them shaking.

“How do you know you’ll still want me here in three months?” he continues.

I lift my hands up. “Because right now, I can’t imagine ever not wanting you with me. If you won’t let me give you job security, at least let me give you some other security.”

“People would think—”

“Who cares what people think?” I nearly explode. He rocks back on his heels.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“I need to think about it. I don’t . . . Asking me like this tonight . . . it doesn’t feel right. I’m sorry. I think if we decide to do that, to move in, that’s a big deal. I don’t want it to be because you’re scared of the future, or because you feel sorry for me, or anything like that. I don’t want it to feel like a last resort.”

“Why don’t you let me do something nice for you?” I plead, taking his hands. “Just let me take care of us.”

“I told you, I don’t want a daddy. But thank you for thinking of me.”

“I thought it was our age difference that would come between us, but it’s the money, isn’t it?” I feel bitter as I say it, and I don’t think it’s just that he turned me down. I can’t do anything about having been born rich, any more than I can do anything about my age, or the fact that he shares neither.

“I’m not saying never—I’m saying not like this. I’m sorry. I don’t want money to come between us, but it’s there. You’ve never not had money.”

“I don’t see how that’s a character flaw,” I mutter.

“It’s not—I don’t resent it, but I don’t know how to deal with it. My parents— We were fine, you know, when we were kids. Mom worked part-time so she could be home in the afternoons. There were savings accounts and a couple of vacations.” He smiles a little, but it’s cynical. “And then there was the divorce. Lawyers, fights over child support and after-school care, and then there wasn’t enough money for the things that we used to take for granted. Dad used money as a weapon, because he had it and Mom didn’t.”

“I would never deliberately hurt you like your father hurt your mother.”

He scrubs a hand over his face and looks at me. “I don’t want to be
supported
.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“I know you didn’t. For what it’s worth, Eddie, I really want to—to be with you and your piles of money and not feel weird about it.”

I nod, turning my head so he can’t see the tears glittering in my eyes. “Well, should we check the results?”

“They probably won’t be online until morning. Maybe we should just go to bed instead.”

It seems like neither of us is quite ready to face it.

I follow him upstairs, and we crawl into bed together. Neither of us makes a move to initiate sex, but he pulls me into the comfortable curve of his body and wraps his arms around me.

“We’ll work it out,” he whispers.

I nod, feeling his breath tickle my ear, until it slows into a gentle rhythm and he falls asleep. I lie awake a long time, listening to him, feeling him. Memorizing him.

I stare at the election results on my phone. It was close—very close. But the tax increase passed. The roads bill is funded. I flop back in bed and stare at the ceiling. Wish must know already, but he left for work over an hour earlier with a kiss to my forehead and an “I’ll call you later.”

Anticipating that call fills me with dread.

I’m embarrassed. Oh sure, in the light of day, I can see why he said no when I asked him to move in. I asked him all wrong, and I insulted his sense of self-worth. I know better, and if I’d been thinking clearly, I would have waited. But damn. I want him here. And now I’m going to have to find a way to ask again that doesn’t carry with it any aspersions on his independence.

But there’s nothing to be done now. He’s got three months left on his lease, and that’s three months for me to convince him he belongs here with me.

My phone rings.
Keith
. It’s hard to commiserate with someone when you feel more relief than misery.

“Hey, sugar.” I cover my discomfort with sass.

“Hi, Ed. You hear the news?”

“Yeah. Tough break. But I guess this is what the people want.”

He snorts. “Yeah. How about that? Listen buddy, I know you worked hard, and I’m so damned sorry you’ll have to close the dealership.”

I stifle an awkward laugh. “I’ll work it out.”

“I figure I’ll be raising membership rates slightly, but those who want to will pay it,” he says, sounding resigned. “I mean, it’s not like this town has a kinky club on every corner, right?”

“Of course. And remember what I said about helping out. I can invest if you need a partner.”

“Thanks. Haven’t seen you at the club lately. You or the pretty boy you played with last time.” If I didn’t know him better, I’d take it for an accusation, but no—Keith isn’t like that.

“Yeah, about that . . . You were right. I do like him. We’ve been dating.”

“Well, good for you.” There’s a new warmth in his voice. “Complementary kinks
and
companionship. That’s pretty great.”

“We’re happy.” I think. I hope. In spite of last night’s faux pas, I really want to believe we are.

“Then I’m happy for you. Well, I only wanted to check and see if you’d heard the news. Want to have dinner sometime soon? Bring your guy.”

“I’d like that. I’ll call you later in the week to set something up.”

“Sounds good. Later, Ed.”

“Bye, Keith.”

Bring your guy.

I smile. He
is
my guy. And, the roads bill passing means he’s more likely to be staying.

I can’t complain about that.