Found at the Library (12 page)

If he wasn’t already intimidated, the massive black metal, double doors with leaded glass windows and huge Christmas wreaths would have done the job. He rang the doorbell and dried his damp hand on his jeans.

Someone approached the door, and then Mac opened it. He stood barefoot and wore threadbare jeans with a T-shirt covered by a zip-up hoodie. His hair rioted in complete disarray like he’d been running his hands through it, and he hadn’t shaved today. The look was completely rumpled and sexy, and Tommy loved it. Tommy had never seen him so casual. That, combined with his soft, friendly smile, settled Tommy’s nerves better than anything else could have.

“I was sure whoever answered the door would refuse entry since I wasn’t wearing formal wear. Jesus, Mac, you could have warned me. This place is incredible.”

Mac rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose. “I know. It’s a little pretentious, but I’ve always loved this house, and when it went for sale right after I got my second big contract, I decided it was serendipity and had to buy it.” His eyes widened as he gazed longingly toward the bag in Tommy’s hand. “What did you bring? It smells amazing.” His mouth dropped open and Tommy could almost see the drool. “No way, you brought Mama’s Barbeque, didn’t you?”

“How could you tell that?”

“Hello.” Mac gestured down at the bag. “Greasy brown bag and that unmistakable aroma of smoke and meat and brown sugar. Everything about that says Mama’s Barbeque. I just thought you were the perfect man before. Now I’m sure of it. Will it scare you if I pledge my undying love now?”

Tommy shook his head, but smiled. Mac had taken care of his apprehension. “You’re a kook.”

Mac grinned and waved toward the back of the house. “Come on. Let’s go back to the kitchen.”

As they walked side by side, Tommy gaped at the soaring vaulted ceilings and the space that looked like it went on forever. “How big is this place?

“Um.” Mac rubbed uncomfortably across the back of his neck and gave Tommy a sheepish grin. “A little over ten thousand square feet.”

“Jesus, how long have you lived here?” Tommy tried to hide his mental calculations of how much this place must have cost. Shit, Mac was so far out of his league.

“About six years. Don’t worry, I still haven’t gotten used to it, either. I know it can be a bit overwhelming at first glance.”

Tommy snorted. “A bit?”

Mac chuckled. “Okay, yeah, it’s completely over the top, but I love it. I’ll give you a tour after we eat, and I can show you some of my favorite spaces.”

They entered a modern kitchen filled with top-of-the-line cherry custom cabinets, granite countertops, and commercial-grade appliances. “Very nice, Mr. McIntyre. Are you sure a kitchen like this allows Mama’s?”

Mac shook his head. “My kitchen wishes it could produce something as delectable as Mama’s. You can spread it out on the counter. I want to see what you brought.” He licked his lips and went over to a cabinet and pulled out two plates and some silverware. “Do you want a beer or some pop?”

Tommy began pulling out the various containers and piling them along the countertop of the breakfast bar. “A beer sounds great.”

Mac reached into the fridge, grabbed two longnecks, and popped the tops with a built in bottle opener.

“Hmm, I need to mount one of those in my kitchen. That’s handy.”

Mac smiled and winked, but focused on exploring the food. “Oh, you brought some ribs. If I were capable, I’d offer to have your babies now.”

Tommy chuckled low. “Well, I can’t impregnate you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take advantage of the sentiment. I could get behind the idea of practicing...just in case we evolve to that point someday.”

Mac nodded sagely, but his eyes had darkened with promise. “It is better to be prepared. We never know what changes the zombie apocalypse will bring.”

They sat down and began to eat. Tommy lifted an eyebrow. “So how many people do you employ to maintain this place?”

“I hire a grounds-keeping company to maintain the outside. I’m not a gardener. Other than that, I have my housekeeper, and he’s only here once a week.”

“Really?” That surprised Tommy. He would think it would take more. Wait... “Did you say ‘he’?”

Mac nodded. “Yeah, David comes in on Sundays and cleans the house for me. He does a great job. I’m not sexist about that kind of stuff.”

“No, I could see that.” He examined Mac’s chagrined expression. “But that doesn’t explain why you’ve turned beet red when talking about him. Oh, no.” Tommy felt his eyes widen, but he couldn’t help it. “He’s not the maid version of a cabana boy is he? Some sort of boy toy?”

“No!” Mac looked down, and Tommy didn’t think it was possible, but he grew even redder.

“Then what is wrong with you? I wouldn’t have thought you could even get that red without being horribly sunburned.”

“Don’t get me wrong. David is awesome, but he’s not really a housekeeper by trade. He’s an OCD engineer. I met him at a club one night when I’d been drinking...a lot. I brought him home and passed out before anything happened. He was stone-cold sober, loved the house but not my slovenly ways. When I woke up the next morning hung-over and barely able to focus, he’d cleaned the entire place. He told me that was better than hot sex any day. He’s a bit of a character.”

“He would have to be.” Tommy bit his lip, torn between jealousy and curiosity. “So, he’s an engineer. I’m guessing he doesn’t need the money.”

Mac shook his head and rubbed across the back of his neck. “No, he’s a partner in his firm. He really likes to clean, and he adores the house. I can’t tell you how many studies he’s done on the construction of the vaulted and domed ceilings in the place. He talks about them all the time, but it goes over my head.” Mac shrugged. “He says it gives him a focus, and I get a clean house and don’t have to mess with it. So it’s a win/win.”

“Okay, this is probably none of my business, but I have to know...did you ever fuck him?”

Mac wrinkled his nose and chuffed out a chuckle. “No, it seems our chemistry was entirely alcohol-fueled...at least for my part. I never had the interest again, and he’s never seemed so inclined, either. We’re just good friends now.”

“Friends where he comes and cleans your house every Sunday? And you don’t pay him?” Tommy tried to understand this bizarre arrangement.

“No, but he has perks. I have a mountain house up at Breckinridge, and he’s free to use it anytime I’m not. He’s hosted a few parties here at the house. I think it works out for both of us in the end.” Mac shrugged again. “He knows he can quit at any time, and I’ll be okay with it.”

Tommy nodded as he pulled some meat off the ribs. “You’re an interesting guy, Mac.” He wiped his face and hands with his napkins. “I don’t think I can eat anymore. I bought extra so you would have plenty to snack on in between writing. Want me to put it all in the fridge?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Mac said as he licked the sauce from his thumb.

Tommy focused in on that thumb, and a shiver rolled down his spine as he pictured Mac licking him like that.  Mac’s mouth stopped moving as he met Tommy’s gaze. Heat enveloped them and Mac slowly and seductively cleaned the rest of the barbeque sauce off.

“Hmm,” Tommy moaned. “You’re giving me ideas of different uses for the leftover barbeque sauce later.” He winked at Mac, trying to take this interlude back to playful rather than the intense lust his dick demanded as it pulsed against his zipper. He didn’t want Mac to think he’d just come for a hookup. In fact, he hadn’t planned to have sex tonight at all. Mac had a deadline, and Tommy didn’t want to interfere with that obligation. “But you did promise me a tour first.”

“Spoil sport,” Mac grumbled, but he got up and helped Tommy clean up the rest of the mess.

They had explored most of the massive house when Mac stopped outside closed double doors. He turned his back to the doors and raised an eyebrow at Tommy. “Now this room is something special. It’s where I work. It’s where I play. It’s where I find my happy. But I’m very protective of it, because it’s my favorite room in the house. I lock these doors for parties, because this is my own special oasis. There’s a secret entrance I can use so no one knows I’m in here.” He winked at Tommy. “You’ll have to earn that secret. But out of everyone I’ve ever met, I think you’re going to be able to appreciate this room as much as I do.”

Tommy didn’t know what to think about this build-up. Throughout the rest of the house, Mac had been pretty laidback about the incredible architecture and amenities the house offered. What could be so special behind these two doors?

Mac turned, flung open the doors, and then stepped aside so Tommy could enter.

With a final glance at Mac, Tommy stepped into the room.

Immediately, his heart began to pound with excitement.

“Oh wow,” Tommy breathed on a gasp, “can I be your Belle?”

“Does that mean I’m the Beast?” Mac shook his head, but he smiled at Tommy indulgently. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that comparison.”

“No, but you have his library. Wow, Mac. Look at this place.”

Mac smiled. “Go ahead and wander through it. I can spend hours in here.”

Tommy walked farther into the room, expecting the mirage in front of him to disappear, but it didn’t. The most fantastic library Tommy had ever seen soared two stories high with a leaded glass dome ceiling in the middle of the impressive open space. The entire room featured warm oak paneling and shelving. Loaded bookcases ran on all four sides of the room and in the corner, a wooden staircase spiraled up to the landing that held the second story of books.

Two couches flanked the front of a huge stone fireplace with a roaring fire. In another corner, a grouping of four leather armchairs sat in a semi-circle. A massive desk sat in the final corner with a laptop on top of it. That must be where Mac worked.

Art and crafts styled lamps and fixtures glowed. A person could read anywhere in the room comfortably. The
pièce de résistance,
though, was a huge bay window that overlooked the back of Mac’s property, with paned windows on all three sides of a massive window seat covered with pillows. The perfect place to read, think, or nap.

Never had Tommy wished he could read more. He looked longingly at the filled shelves and ran his hand along the spines. There were many he recognized from his years of working with books.

Mac watched him closely, and Tommy knew he needed to say something. “It’s incredible, Mac.” Tommy swallowed hard to try to loosen the tension in his throat.

Mac tilted his head. He must have seen something in Tommy’s expression because he frowned. “I don’t understand it. You obviously love books, but you said that day at the library that you aren’t a reader. How can that be?”

Fuck, he hated having to explain this to anyone, but if anyone deserved to know the full truth, it was Mac. So Tommy took a deep breath and just said it. “I can’t read. At least, not easily.”

Tommy waited for the usual reaction of horror and discomfort, but Mac didn’t say anything. He just waited for more.

“I’m what’s considered functionally illiterate. I can read things, but it takes me ten times as long as everyone else.”

“But why?” Mac shook his head. “That makes no sense. I know you’re a smart guy. Even I’ve seen that much, so what’s the holdup? Did something happen in school? I know your dad was military. Did you somehow miss something those years when they taught you to read? If so, I can teach you. Or someone else. We can hire a tutor. Whatever you need.” Mac didn’t let Tommy get a word in.

Tommy grabbed his upper arm. “Relax, it’s okay.”

Mac shook his head in dismay. “No, it’s not.”

Tommy placed his hand over Mac’s mouth. “Hang on. Let me explain. I love how passionate you are, but give me a minute.”

Mac’s blue eyes had darkened in concern, but he nodded and removed Tommy’s hand. He placed a soft, caring kiss on the inside of Tommy’s wrist. “Okay, shutting up now,” Mac said. “Continue.”

He hated this. No matter how good of explanation there was for his reading issues, he always ended up feeling stupid and inadequate. And to someone like Mac who’d built his life on creating those words...
Suck it up and just explain
.

“Yes, the military thing didn’t help my situation. Because we moved so often, no one was able to pinpoint how much of an issue I had. My mom knew, and she had me tested for developmental problems. For the most part, those tests showed I was fine, although weak in some areas like short and long-term memory. Teachers told her I would learn to compensate for those issues and that it was better to leave me in the normal school programs.” Tommy shrugged. “School was never easy, but I did manage to get by. In my junior year in high school, one of my teachers came to my mom.”

Tommy thought back to that humiliating time. He’d taken advanced placement history, a subject he loved and always excelled at, but that class had been hell. The other students made fun of him because he held them all up with his “issues.”

“What did that teacher say?” Mac prompted.

“Oh, sorry. I hated that class so much. While I could handle the work and passed, those other kids knew I didn’t belong there. And they let me know it. The teacher knew I was struggling, and he had a child who’d been diagnosed as dyslexic, and had discussed my problems with his wife. She was sure that’s what my problem was, too. Dyslexia wasn’t part of the developmental testing that I had gone through several times over the years. It’s a separate test, and it’s expensive. On top of that, educational professionals kept telling my mother I was fine.”

Mac shook his head, beginning to look angry.

“And I was okay. I never had a problem passing. I learned coping mechanisms...just like they said I would.”

Mac scowled at him now, and Tommy reached up to smooth the wrinkles between his brows. “It’s okay,” he whispered to Mac.

“No, it’s not. You love books. That you got left behind...” Mac gritted his teeth.

“That summer, my mom got fed up, so she shelled out the money that we couldn’t afford and had me tested. No surprise, I tested positive for dyslexia. But at that point, it was embarrassing for me, and I did fine in school. I was going into my senior year. I was almost done. I didn’t see a reason to make a big deal about it.”