The Backup Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Chronicles) (29 page)

A honking horn sounded as a wolf whistle pierced the air, and Dylan’s fingers froze. He glanced down at their tightly molded bodies, at his hand on Alec’s zipper, and then at the door to his right, in full view of anyone driving by.

Dylan shot Alec a cocky look.

“I guess you can put me down in the bisexual camp,” Dylan said with an amused tone. “Or at least somewhere on the sliding scale of bisexuality, whatever the hell that means.” He punctuated the statement with a hard kiss and then pulled back. All humor gone, his expression grew serious. “And, uh, if you want to introduce me as your boyfriend, I guess I’m okay with that too.”

“Are we retiring the ‘backup’ part?”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

Alec gave the moment the consideration Dylan’s concession deserved. “Actually, there’s really only one thing I need you to call yourself.”

Dylan tipped his head curiously. “What’s that?”

“Mine.”

A slow smile spread across Dylan’s face. “That I can definitely do.”

One Year Later

“Do you miss being in charge?” Alec asked.

Dylan sipped his beer on the deck of the restaurant, enjoying the sunset over the Pacific and the chatter of bikers after a good day’s ride. The Sixth Annual Vintage Memorial Poker Run had already been deemed a success; the weather was perfect, participation at an all-time high. A salt-tinged breeze ruffled Alec’s hair, his elbow pressed against Dylan’s as they leaned against the wooden railing.

“I thought I was in charge last night,” Dylan said.

Alec continued to scan the crowd, eyes crinkled in humor. “After all this time, your mind still resides firmly in the gutter, Dylan Booth.”

“Hey, you might have rescued me from a garage, moved me into your home, and house-trained me, but life on the gutter side of things is fun.” He fisted the front of Alec’s shirt and leaned in to nip his shoulder before soothing the spot with his tongue. “As someone who visits me there daily, I’m not sure I understand the complaint.”

Alec turned a smokin’ blue gaze on Dylan. “I’m not complaining.”

A thrum of awareness rippled just beneath Dylan’s skin, and he reluctantly straightened up. This wasn’t the time or place.

“I didn’t think so.” Dylan smoothed out the wrinkles he’d left on Alec’s shirt. “And the answer to your original question is no. I don’t miss being in charge of the poker run. Four years was enough. I’d rather enjoy myself than organize the sucker.”

“Noah hasn’t stopped bitching all day.” Alec’s mouth quirked. “I think you hurt his feelings when you hired an event planner.”

Dylan cast a glance at Noah, now seated on the deck surrounded by participants sporting hardcore motorcycle gear. Unlike the chaps his tablemates wore, Noah’s leather pants were sleek.
Chic
was the word Noah used, whatever the hell that meant. During lunch, Noah had shared the price he’d paid for his faux crocodile T-shirt, and Dylan had almost bitten his tongue in half, ruining Dylan’s perfectly prepared hamburger with the taint of blood.

“Trust me,” Dylan said. “Noah just likes to complain. He’d much rather spend his time working the crowd. Besides”—he waved his bottle in the direction of the satisfied bikers—“the participants are pleased with this year’s arrangements. Especially the entertainment.”

“It’s definitely better than last year’s.”

Dylan groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

Noah never let Dylan forget that Destiny’s Bitch had received a standing ovation after her rendition of “I Will Survive.” Unfortunately, the reminder was more annoying than the incident itself. Every month or so since, Dylan’s cell phone rang, blaring the tune. He hadn’t figured out how Noah managed to keep swiping his phone on the sly and changing the ringtone. Or why the call always came at the most embarrassing moment possible, with the volume at full blast.

Last week, the old man behind Dylan in the NAPA Auto Parts store had nearly suffered a friggin’ heart attack.

Dylan caught Noah’s eye, and the man shot him a wink and a smile. Dylan volleyed back with a you’re-not-funny look.

He knew Noah would wait until Dylan let down his guard again before the repeat offensive. But,
man
, how long could a guy remain on high alert? He’d assumed Noah would eventually grow bored with the prank. So far, no such luck. One more time and Dylan was changing the keyless entry to the front door and not giving Noah the combination.

Ever.

“Dylan!”

Dylan turned his head and saw Savannah Urban approaching.

The petite blond he’d hired to organize this year’s event was a second year psychology student at Stanford, recommended to him by Jack Davis, an uncle of sorts. Besides the pretty features, sweet manner, and high-powered relative, the girl came with an added bonus: a twin named Sierra.

Two for the price of one, she’d said. And although Dylan had complained, trying to pay them both, Sierra had refused. What the two lacked in experience they’d more than made up for with enthusiasm, but sometimes their bubbly energy was almost too much.

Long ponytail pulled back through her visor, clip board in hand, Savannah—or was it Sierra?—approached Dylan. “I just wanted to go over tomorrow’s schedule again.”

“Savannah…” He hesitated, waiting for her to correct him, just in case he had the wrong twin. “I trust you. You and your sister have done a bang-up job. Today was spectacular. Everybody is saying this is the best year ever.”

The fresh-faced blond blushed to her hairline. Seriously, had he ever been that young?

Dylan sent her a reassuring smile as he went on. “You don’t need to keep checking in with me.”

That’s why he’d hired the two to begin with, to spare him from dealing with the details. With anyone else he might have felt annoyed, but she was just so friggin’ earnest and adorable. And
wholesome
. Raising them would have been fun, and he finally understood why some people made the insane choice to have children.

Of course, with Dylan’s genes, he’d probably wind up with a boy that was pure hell on wheels. He’d be better off raising Alec’s kid.

Jesus, where had those thoughts come from?

But he knew. This wasn’t the first time they’d popped into his head. The idea seemed to be following him around lately, nipping at his heels.

Savannah bit her lower lip. “Well,” she said hesitantly, “Noah said I needed to—”

“Whoa.” Dylan held up a hand. “Stop right there. I’m not one who attempts to offer advice or share wisdom or stupid shit like that. But, whatever you do, do
not
listen to Noah.” He laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I trust you way more than I trust him.”

Savannah beamed, and Dylan didn’t have the heart to tell her he trusted the deadlocked political system more than he trusted Noah Tanner.

“Are we good now?” Dylan asked.

Savannah’s smile lit up her face. “We’re good.”

Dylan watched her weave her way back through the crowded tables and come to stop beside her sister. In matching visors, the twins huddled together for a moment, comparing clipboards.

“They’re cute kids,” Alec said. Dylan hiked a brow, and Alec shrugged as he continued. “Okay.
College
kids then.”

“Yeah.”

Funny how Alec had picked up on the same thought as Dylan. He returned his gaze to the two girls and pursed his lips, contemplating the thought dogging him for a while.

“You ever thought about having any?” Dylan asked.

“Any what?”

“Kids.”

When Alec didn’t respond, Dylan turned his head and met his partner’s gaze.

Hip parked against the railing, Alec stared at him, his face reflecting the same shock present in those wide, blue eyes. Dylan never could decide which was more amusing, a tongue-tied Alec or the nervous, blabbering version. Looks like the topic of children had left Alec mute.

Fucking
adorably
mute.

A familiar warmth spread through Dylan’s chest. He should be used to the feeling by now, but every time it felt like a novelty.

“Yeah,” Alec said. “But…”

Those two short words seemed to have exhausted Alec’s supply.

“Why haven’t you ever mentioned the idea before?” Dylan said.

Alec blinked and crossed his arms, almost looking offended. “Maybe because of the way you initially freaked out about us. How was I supposed to bring up the subject when you weren’t even capable of saying the words
I love you
.”

Dylan scowled, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I got over that in a few months.”

“Try six.”

“Okay.” Dylan shrugged. “So I’m a slow learner.”

“Are you serious?” Alec slowly cocked his head. “About the kids, I mean?”

Before Dylan could decide how to respond, a voice interrupted their private conversation.

“Hey, guys.”

Tyler approached them with Logan at his side—the boomerang boyfriend, as so dubbed by Noah—and his gray eyes landed on the still stunned expression on his ex’s face.

Tyler shifted his gaze between Alec and Dylan, his voice calm. Only the subject gave away his emotion. “Looks like Noah shared the news about next year’s plans already.”

Alec winced. “Sorry. I guess we shouldn’t have agreed to give the annual bachelor bid two tries before giving up. I figured we’d make enough money the first time and you’d be safe.”

Tyler’s expression didn’t budge, but Alec plowed on.

“You might as well agree to see Memphis about next year’s attempt. Noah’s going to hound you until you do.” Alec’s attention settled back on Dylan. After all that, Dylan could still hear the thread of amazement in Alec’s tone. “But that’s not what we were talking about.”

“Then what were you two talking about?” Tyler said.

In a fit of evil, Dylan waited until Tyler took a sip of his beer before answering. “Having kids.”

Tyler choked on his drink, coughing, and his eyes wide. Dylan bit back the grin of satisfaction. Nice to see the Ice Man occasionally lose his cool.

Unfortunately he recovered quickly, putting an end to Dylan’s fun.

Tyler spoke slowly. “Are you kidding me?”

Alec watched Dylan with intent, clearly waiting on him to answer the question. Dylan ran the notion around in his head again, feeling it out. Testing the image in his brain. Before he met Alec, the thought used to conjure all kinds of horrors. But, lately, all Dylan pictured was a little girl or boy with Alec’s blue eyes and his big heart. And maybe even his tendency to babble.

Dylan couldn’t think of anything better.

“Nope,” Dylan finally said. “Not kidding at all.”

Alec shook his head, dazed, but clearly pleased. “I swear, Dylan.” Alec pressed his forehead to Dylan’s temple. “I could spend the rest of my life studying you and never figure you out.”

Dylan grinned, wrapping his arm around Alec’s shoulder and pulling him closer. “Sounds good to me.”

Alec and Tyler began to talk about work, the housing fund, and next year’s bachelor bid. But Dylan tuned them out, content to just hold Alec and enjoy the sun sinking into the Pacific.

“What would you call her?”

“Huh?” Dylan looked around and realized Tyler and Logan had gone.

Alec squeezed his waist, as if to get his attention. “If we had a girl, what would you name her?”

Surprised by the question, Dylan said, “I don’t know.”

“Well,” Alec said, “at least a boy’s name would be easy.”

Curious, Dylan looked down at Alec where he was tucked against his side. The expression on Alec’s face was more serious than Dylan had expected.

“What would you call him?” Dylan asked.

“Rick.”

Dylan blinked, trying to clear the sudden pressure behind his lids. Jesus, his boyfriend really knew how to pack a punch. For a moment Dylan couldn’t speak, gratitude and peace and something he couldn’t identify, maybe joy, crowding the back of his throat.

And then Dylan’s grin broke through. “That sounds perfect.”

By day, River works as a (mostly) mild mannered physician in a remote Alaskan town and has accumulated the wacky stories that come with the job. At night, her inner badass comes out to play. River likes to read and write edgy books that contain varying levels of humor and plenty of hot, steamy sex between two hunky men.

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Read Tyler and Memphis's story in book two of The Boyfriend Chronicles.

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River Jaymes is also the author of:

In college, geeky med student Cole Winston fell for his best friend, Brad Kelly. The bold, brash charmer was everything Cole wasn't: confident, popular, and straight. Unfortunately Cole's secret blew up in his face, and he walked away.

Years later, when Brad needs help, he calls Cole. Now a respected trauma surgeon, Cole has learned not to risk his heart and is ready to be Brad's friend again. Things go well until Brad asks Cole to be his best man.

With both his parents dead, Brad never would have survived college or his brother's rounds of drug rehab without Cole. The five-year gap in their friendship was painful.

Now Brad's got his best friend back, a kick-ass job, and is engaged to the CEO's daughter. Life is great. . . until a hot encounter at his bachelor party leaves both men reeling. The sexual tension between the two is off the charts. Brad has commitments he needs to keep, but how can he go through with the wedding when he can't stop thinking about Cole?

And how can Cole stand beside his friend and watch him get married, especially now that he realizes he still loves Brad?

www.riverjaymes.com