Read Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four Online
Authors: Various Authors
Tags: #Don't Read in the Closet, #mm romance, #gay
Love,
his right shoulder startled him. He smiled and
Dee
shook his head, both at her question and her
stealth. His sister always could sneak up on him
without really trying. Her slender finger reached
past to point into the crowd. “How about him?”
“Who?” He glanced at her and then
followed her gaze to a guy with white-blond
dreadlocks and a guitar case slung over one
shoulder. His jeans looked ripped and worn
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through natural use and old age instead of the fashionably ruined look
of designer slumming.
“Really, Maggie?” Nick rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist,
lowering her hand.
“You like musicians.”
“I swore off starving artist types.”
She giggled. “But you and I both know you can’t resist for long.”
Nick turned to face Maggie. “Look here Margaret Walker, I’m not
as hopeless as—”
He stopped short when Maggie threw her hands over her ears
squeezing her eyes shut and squealed. “La la la la!” She paused and
peeked at him through one eye.
“What are we? Four?” He smothered a giggle but his smile
escaped.
She lowered her hands and opened her eyes to fix him with an
indignant stare. “Six,” she said with a stomp of her foot.
At just barely five feet tall, her long, dark hair pulled into low pig
tails behind her ears and an exaggerated pout on her heart-shaped
face, Maggie could look like a kid. It escaped all but their closest
friends that she had two and a half years on Nick.
“I am
not
a Walker anymore.”
“Oh, good. Here I thought I was about to get decked for calling
you—” He bit his tongue, choosing not to push his luck. “Did you
make it to the restrooms?”
She nodded. “I’m fast. Even if I can’t just whip it out.” When
Nick grimaced, she laughed and continued as if she’d said nothing
crass. “It’s a shame,” she said. “I liked the name better than “Boden”,
but no way do I want a lingering connection to that man.”
Nick picked up his backpack. Maggie fell in beside him as he
followed the signs for Baggage Claims. “I thought you were going to
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remain friends with him?” Nick asked. He immediately wondered if
he was poking a bear.
“That’s unlikely after he stuck me with my brother for our big
special vacation.”
Nick paused and hooked a thumb over his shoulder back the way
they came. “I can go,” he said.
She caught his hand and held it as they continued their journey
down the long, wide corridor. “You are not backing out now,” she
said. “We’re going on this cruise and we’re going to enjoy it.”
“Of course we are,” Nick mumbled under his breath.
****
He tipped his head trying to get a glimpse between the strips of plastic
separating the baggage handlers from the travelers. He could hear
them back there, and yet the belt still hadn’t been started. He sighed
and lifted the paperback dangling from his hands, his forefinger
holding his place. Again. He’d read the same paragraph several times.
The story was good but he was eager to get on with his first vacation
in three years.
Will, his ex
good riddance
, wouldn’t have approved of such
frivolous spending, and with that thought, Tad settled into a wide-
legged stance and grinned. Will had hand-cuffed him for nearly two
years. The man had been wild in the sack. He’d been smart and clever
and fun, but Tad couldn’t picture his future living under Will’s penny
pinching ways. Will would’ve fainted if he saw Tad’s bill for one
single week on the cruise ship Freedom, even without the balcony
upgrade.
And, the balcony was a must. Tad had little desire to hang around
on deck all day with a crowd of strangers. He wanted warm sun and
good food. He needed nothing more, except to catch up on several
books by his favorite authors. He folded down a corner and flipped
the book closed, giving up on page forty-two in favor of reassuring
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himself once more that vacationing alone didn’t mean he should start
seeing a shrink. Granted every one of his friends and extended family
thought him crazy for it, but Tad eagerly anticipated the relaxation
and lack of responsibility vacationing alone granted.
Tad could hear faint voices in the back. He imagined baggage
handlers sitting around playing cards while the entire flight huddled
around the quiet conveyor belts, anxiously awaiting their belongings
so the true vacation can start. As he tried to peek through the curtain
again, a slim blonde woman in a cute red skirt suit touched his arm
and smiled up at him.
“Hello, will you be on our shuttle?”
He glanced at her name tag. Sandy, from Freedom Cruises.
“Yes, Sandy.”
“Welcome to Miami!” Her smiled brightened. “What’s your
name?”
“Theodore Eglington.”
She checked his name off of her list. “Okie dokie. And who are
you traveling with?”
“No one.”
Her pen hovered over the checklist for three seconds before she
looked up, a quizzical look on her face. “You’re visiting us alone?”
He resisted the urge to argue with her. He’d had enough of
defending his choice among his friends and colleagues. “Yes, I am.”
He offered his best charming smile and nodded.
Her smile faltered for all of a second before she grinned wider and
said, “Okie dokie, Theodore.”
“Call me Tad.”
“Uh-huh, Tad, you got it.” She paused. “Okie dokie then,” she
said with too much enthusiasm. “We’ll meet the bus outside that
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door.” With her pen, she pointed toward the sliding glass doors on the
far side of the crowd.
“Got it.”
She looked up at him once more, and he thought she was going to
say something else, but instead she pushed a smile across her lips and
then looked around for her next check-in victim. She walked away
without saying a word. At first offended, Tad shrugged it off and
decided he’d prefer she didn’t offer false wishes for a fun-filled
vacation. Besides, he didn’t want to hear her chirp “okie dokie” again.
Tad let his gaze wander over the crowd. He sucked in a breath as
his gaze landed on a man who blew away the tired old trope “tall,
dark, and handsome.” Easily matching Tad’s six-foot-two height, the
man had wild black hair dusting sharp cheekbones while not quite
hiding the roll of his eyes as he stumbled through the crowd. Tad
followed his movements and found his leash in the form of a short
woman in pigtails and a vibrant smile. Tad sneered at her and then
sighed, forcing himself to relax. She was actually his type—when he
was in the mood for a woman, and only if she hadn’t been attached to
a much better looking specimen. Tad returned his study to Tall, Dark,
and Handsome. Nothing wrong with enjoying the view, he decided,
even if the man was straight and spoken for. With facial hair in a style
Tad usually didn’t like — a goatee sans mustache — Handsome needed
to shave the foolish anchor-shaped splash of hair on his chin, but at
the same time, Tad remembered a beard like that could create a
pleasant tickle during oral play. He shifted his weight and his
daydreams, willing his groin to remain calm despite the erogenous
thoughts.
As Handsome stopped near the front of the crowd, he pulled the
woman back, threw an arm around her slender shoulders, and then
kissed her temple. The tender gesture ruined Tad’s fantasy. He shook
himself from the shattered daydream and scanned the other faces in
the crowd. No one caught his fancy, not like the stranger with the tiny
girlfriend. She had moved away from him, slinking her way to a spot
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in front of the belt. She looked like she weighed less than the suitcases
most people used for vacations.
If you’re into that,
he thought dourly. As soon as the thought
crossed his mind, he frowned and mentally kicked himself. He had
never been one to give into selfish attitudes, even in the privacy of his
own mind. He stared at the stranger, wondering what about the man
had Tad so damn possessive and jealous.
More than before, Tad wanted to hurry up and get to his room on
the ship. He needed to get away from the temptation in raven locks
and olive skin. The baggage handlers answered his wish. The belt
leapt to action with a wail and a creak. A half-hearted cheer undulated
through the crowd and, as one, they pressed forward, inching closer to
the still empty, but now moving, conveyor belt. His single large
suitcase rolled out second, behind a bright pink hard-sided model
decorated with sparkly stickers. He grabbed his plain black luggage
and veered through the crowd toward the door Sandy had indicated.
Once the driver stowed his suitcase under the bus, Tad climbed
on, hugging his carry-on with confirmation details and wallet to his
chest. He slid into the last seat and proceeded to ignore the other
passengers while the driver flung bags into the undercarriage
compartment with enough force to shake Tad’s seat. He stared out the
side window, watching tall palms sway against a nearly cloudless sky.
Vacation. Finally. He smiled.
When they arrived at the port, Tad zoned out, letting himself be
guided by the flood of people and cheerful cruise employees. By rote,
he disembarked from the bus, marked his luggage, and followed the
crowd to the long, weaving check-in queue. The press of passengers
thinned out briefly on the other side of the long line of windows
confirming passengers’ identities and assigning room keys, but within
a short two minute walk, Tad caught up with the crowd to stand in
another line, this time to board the ship. He craned his head to the side
and could barely see the gangway, packed with passengers. So close,
and so far at the same time.
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As close as he was, with paperwork in hand, and the ship in his
view, Tad found himself relaxing. He was a few minutes from
actually boarding, but he smiled and called it the official start of his
vacation. Travelling exhausted him; now he could relax. He dug his
book out of his bag and read as he shuffled his feet behind the person
ahead of him in line, glancing up only once in a while to check his
progress.
Once through the door, the crowd took a few moments to spread
out into a large room circling an elegant bar with a black, marble bar
top, plush mahogany stools, and scrubbed silver trim on everything.
Several small, two-person tables surrounded it, but Tad saw an
opening and took it. He fled down a corridor, past an unmanned help
desk, and didn’t stop as he passed a group waiting for the big glass
elevators to bring them to another level of the ship.
Free of the press of tired, anxious bodies, he slowed and took a
deep breath, exhaling with a sigh. As he left everyone else behind, he
veered to a switchback staircase and climbed the steps two at a time.
He arrived in front of the gift shop, doors closed, but lights in the
windows illuminated mannequins wearing white slacks with Hawaiian
shirts, and sundresses designed to do little more than cover a swimsuit
in the dining room. Through another window, shelves of rum balls,
liquor bottles, and assorted candy beckoned, and behind the register, a
forgetful traveler could find aspirin, sun screen, and a variety of
personal needs such as deodorant, toothpaste, and other sundries at
what Tad assumed would be double or triple the price of the local