Knave of Broken Hearts (29 page)

Ian looked horrified. “How did Father get involved?” Some dawn broke all over his face. “Shit, is that how I got the full ride to Berkeley?”

Constance glanced back and forth between them. “What do you mean?”

“I was dying to go to Berkeley for architecture school. My father wasn’t going to send me after he threw me out—and suddenly changed his mind. Now I know why. And the weird thing is, I decided not to go to Berkeley. I’m applying for a scholarship to Cal Poly. I don’t want to take anything from my father. Hell, he’s an asshole homophobe. And I want to stay close to Rico.”

Holy shit.
Jim shook his head. What had he done?

Constance crossed her arms. “I guess these chauvinist pigs were at least paying a high price for me. Why the fuck would your father care who you date?”

He sighed. “It has something to do with a contribution your father said he’d make to the Pacific Crest Club.”

“Those conniving sons of bitches.”

Ken took a step closer, frowning. “I heard a rumor that Jim’s father got the club involved in a bad investment. He’s probably trying to make up for it.”

Constance spit out the words. “Using me as collateral.”

“It seems so.”

She narrowed her eyes at Jim. “And you went along with it.”

He hung his head. “I’m really sorry. It was stupid and unfair, but I thought if I was going to spend my life with a woman, I wouldn’t mind it being you.”

Her mouth opened—and then she laughed. “That is the most bizarre and backhanded compliment I ever got, but I think I’ll cherish it.” She sat on the edge of the bed and took Jim’s hand that wasn’t connected to the IV. “So why don’t you want to be partners with Billy?”

“I do, but I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve it.”

“You brought Billy my business.”

Jim glanced up, startled.

She shook her head. “You don’t think I’d give a man my business just because I wanted to sleep with him, do you?”

Jim smiled. One inch of sugar over solid steel. “No, ma’am.”

“I’m going to say this out of true experience. Stop letting your father define you.”

Jim frowned. “I barely see my father.”

“Right, but he calls you a loser and you try to act like one. No one I know is less a loser than you. But you’ve even let your father tell you who you can and can’t love. You know who you love. You clearly defined that when you were semiconscious on the floor back at the party.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You said, ‘Call Ken. My heart.’”

Ken looked back and forth between them. “He meant he was having a heart attack.”

“No.” She stood. “He meant what he said.” She spun on Ken and extended a finger. “And you, Dr. Tanaka. I have only one thing to say. You broke his heart. You fix it.”

Constance put both hands on her hips. “I think it’s pretty sad when two gay men owe their love life to a woman.” She stood on Jim’s other side. “I really like you. I wish you weren’t gay. But since you are, for God’s sake, do it right.” She kissed his cheek. “And get well fast. We have a lot of work to do.” On that life-changing exit line, she swept out of the room.

Billy started to laugh, and Ian joined in. “Man, Jim, for a gay man, you sure attract great women.” He looked at Ian. “I think that’s our cue to leave. I’ll bring you some papers to sign by the end of the week.”

Ken put a hand on Jim’s arm. “Bring them to my condo, please. I’m taking Jim home with me for recovery.”

Jim practically broke his neck, it turned so fast. “What?”

Billy held up a hand. “Yeah, bye, you two. I’ll see you later in the week.”

Jim half nodded but never stopped looking into Ken’s dark eyes. When the door closed, he let himself frown. “Why would you want to take care of me? I can take care of myself.”

Ken glowered back. “Yeah, I can tell that. That’s why you’re here, right? This attack was a lifestyle problem. If you’d done what I told you, you probably wouldn’t have had to have the surgery—at least not on an emergency basis.”

Jim’s voice rose, but he couldn’t help it. “I got news for you, doc. Don’t tell me I’ll die if I don’t reduce my stress, because that just fucking stresses me out. And don’t tell me to be calm when not having you makes me want to kill something.” He gasped.
Did I just say that?

Silence. Ken stared at Jim. “So how about we take care of each other?”

“How could the likes of me take care of the likes of you?” But still his heart beat fast.

Ken sat back and wrapped two hands around his knee, the dark eyes looking deep and distant. “You make me brave, Jim. You showed me that all the tradition and status in the world aren’t worth shit without love. You showed me it’s worth fighting for.” He rubbed the knuckles of his right hand.

A tight lump clogged Jim’s throat, but he got the words out. “I’ve spent ten years running from who I am.”

“You spent ten years becoming who you are.”

Jim leaned his head back. “So you want to take care of me, huh? Force me to eat green stuff and drink carrot juice.”

Ken grinned. “Yep. And I have lots of other good things you can eat.”

Jim snorted.

Ken’s face sobered. “I think we should move Ian and that feline in too.”

“That sounds permanent.” And pretty damned great.

“Hey, let’s see if we can’t form a partnership between a perfect Japanese son and a model heterosexual electrician. It’ll be one for the gay record books.”

Jim ran a hand across Ken’s smooth wrist. “My heart.”

“You said that, huh?”

“I guess I must have.”

“Maybe that’s what I was really longing for when I went to med school. To become the heart of someone who I loved.”

Jim’s breath hushed out in a long, slow sigh. “And you love me?”

Ken grinned. “Well, I’d admit it except you’ve had way too much excitement for a man just out of surgery.”

“Bet I could handle a kiss.” Jim’s eyelids drooped.

He felt soft lips against his own and Ken’s silky voice whispered, “We’re going to take care of your heart together. It’s my job. And we’re going to send your brother to architecture school. But you have to get well and strong fast—because, darling, you have to meet my mother.”

K
EN
SMILED
and tried to look relaxed as he turned onto his parents’ street. No use freaking out Jim any more than he already was. Whatever was going on outside that car window must be fascinating, because Jim sat glued to it. Only his fingers moved, folding and unfolding the fabric of his sport coat, a new addition to his wardrobe just for this occasion. Ken slid his hand over Jim’s. “Relax. Nothing she can say or do will change our being together. We’re an item.” He laughed and squeezed.

He nodded but didn’t turn. “I know.”

Ken pulled in front of the house and Jim got out his side, straightening his collar. He’d worn a tie, for crap’s sake. But man, he looked handsome. Jim had dragged Ken to Bloomingdale’s after he’d recovered enough to be out, where he’d tried on every jacket that would fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist without too much tailoring. Ken just enjoyed the show.

On the porch, Ken knocked. He glanced at Jim to see if he thought that was strange, but Jim seemed too nervous to notice. His father answered.

“Good evening, Father. May I present my friend, Jim Carney.”

His father extended his hand, and Jim shook it. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Jim stepped inside and, as Ken had warned him, removed his shoes. Ken did the same. His father gave Ken a quick glance and then led the way into the living room.

Jesus, his knees were shaking. He’d called his mother and warned her that he was bringing someone who mattered to him, and he expected everyone to be on their best behavior. He’d been a little more subtle than that, but not much. She hadn’t resisted much since Ken had threatened to throw Mickey Okuwa in jail and had only backed off when he and his friends were arrested after being accused by two other guys. She might have been chastened, but still, bringing a white, blue-collar guy home wasn’t something he’d ever expected to do.

His mother sat in her queenly chair, straight backed and unsmiling.
Well, shit.
Oh well, here goes.
“Mother, may I present my dear friend, Jim Carney.”

Her eyes traveled up Jim’s tall, hard-muscled, work-strengthened body. She nodded.

And then it happened. Jim bowed low at the waist. “Hajimemashite. Ome ni kakarete kouei desu. Douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu.” Ken’s mouth opened, then closed. Jim had just told his mother that he was honored to meet her in unaccented Japanese.

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Nihongo ga dekimasu ka?”
Do you speak Japanese?

He replied, “Only a little.”

“Please be seated, Mr. Carney.”

He sat across from her. “May I offer you something to drink?”

“Tea would be excellent.”

She smiled and asked the serving person to bring tea. Ken released a little breath. If she hired a caterer for the evening, she was trying to impress.

“May I ask what you do for a living, Mr. Carney?”

Jim smiled. “I’m a partner in a construction company, ma’am.”

Ken almost laughed. Getting Jim to admit he deserved the job had been child’s play beside persuading him to use the title, and now it slid off his tongue like butter.

Ken’s father nodded. “Excellent established position.”

His mother smiled. “But of course, Mr. Carney is a grown man. How do you feel about children, Mr. Carney?”

Dear God, she’d never stop.

“I’m very fond of them, ma’am. In fact, my younger brother lives with me. I take care of him.”

Ian would love to hear he’d become a minor again. Ken bit his cheek to hold it together.

“Isn’t that excellent? A man who believes in family. And your father?”

“He’s a cardiovascular surgeon, Mrs. Tanaka. One of the best in the world.”

If her eyes had been bright before, now they lit up like a fireworks display. “Did you hear that?” She spun on Ken. “Kenji, why have you never brought Mr. Carney home to meet us before?”

Ken just smiled. Three impossibly amazing hours later, they walked into their condo to find Ian and Anderson sound asleep on the very nice sofa. They covered them both and went to bed. When they were tucked in, Ken turned to Jim. “You’re amazing. Nobody could have done a more thorough job of charming my mother. She’ll have you ejaculating into a tube and interviewing surrogates in a week.”

Jim laughed. “I liked her. She’s kind of like Constance. Sugar over steel. But in your mom’s case, not too much sugar.”

“Where in the hell did you learn Japanese?”

Jim grinned and crawled out of bed. Ken frowned. “Wait. I didn’t mean to chase you away. We haven’t had near enough time in a bed yet.”

Jim’s voice came from the other bedroom, where they’d stashed a lot of Jim’s stuff in preparation for the two of them looking for a house. “Hang on.” He walked back in stark naked with his cock half-erect and his green eyes peeking out over the top of a magazine. He scrambled back under the covers. That tough face had to be blushing.

Ken cocked his head. “What is it?”

“My yaoi hero.”

Ken looked at the still-vivid drawings of the beautiful blond guy fucking the pretty Asian. “You think I look like him?”

“You’re more beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“But please notice, the books are all written in Japanese. Hiro used to read them to me and taught me some Japanese at the same time. I brushed up when I knew I’d be meeting your mom.” He laughed. “I guess those novels did me a lot of good after all.”

After acting out every scene in the novel from blow jobs to rimming, Ken whispered, “Before you fall asleep, I have a surprise for you.”

“Ummm. Better than the ones I just had?”

“Not better, but different.” Ken crawled out of bed and got his laptop. Jim barely stirred. Two orgasms would do that. “Open an eye for a minute.”

Jim sat up and leaned against the headboard. “I’m all yours.”

Ken kissed his cheek. “I’m glad. Look.”

He clicked on the page he’d found in a Japanese news magazine. It showed a photo of a lovely, graceful young man standing beside a tall Caucasian who had an arm around him protectively. It seemed the young Asian man had just received an award in science, and he was celebrating with his husband, whom he had married in the United States. His name was Hiro Takahashi.

Jim touched the screen. “Hiro.”

“Yes. I searched until I found him.”

“Look how he’s smiling.”

“Yes.”

Jim wiped his eyes on the edge of the sheet. “How can I thank you for doing this? It’s the most amazing gift.”

“I wanted you to have your Hiro.”

Jim turned and touched Ken’s cheek. “You’re my hero. He was my first real friend. He taught me a lot, from the good and from the bad stuff we shared together. I guess he knocked at a door in me that it took ten years and you to open.” He stared at the pretty, smiling face on the computer screen, then up into the grin of the man he loved. His yaoi man. “Isn’t it amazing that we could both end up so happy?”

Prince of the Playhouse

A Love in Laguna Novel

By Tara Lain

Success for fashion designer Rupert “Ru” Maitland is in grasp. Since he got beat up as a kid for designing Barbie clothes, Ru’s known that living well is the best revenge, and he means to succeed at it. When the Laguna Theater hires him to do costumes for a special performance by movie star Gray Aston, Ru understands that Hollywood will be calling, but one look at the gorgeous film icon and Ru’s priorities start to change. Ru wants Gray and Gray wants Ru, but the actor can’t find the back of his closet, it’s so deep. He’s sacrificed a lot for his stardom, and no matter how PC the film industry might be, only comedians can be gay and keep their audience. Gray takes Ru to Hollywood and old visions of fashion glory start to manifest—while Ru watches the man he loves get engaged to a woman and start planning a wedding. Two lives. Two dreams. But only one can come true if they’re going to be together. Who’s going to be Prince of the Playhouse?