Too Soon For Love (24 page)

Lee’s ultimate recovery.

“Do you think you could speak to them, Dr. Landers?”

“Of course I will.” He laid a hand on Freddy’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’ll give Mr. Dallas’s brother a call today.”

“Thank you so much.” Freddy looked like he might start crying again. But then he glanced at his watch and rose hurriedly to his feet. “I’d better get back. I don’t want to miss seeing Lee’s doctor.”

Together they watched him go then Ross slid into the chair across from Alan. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache. “Poor guy, he looks like he’s about to fall apart.”

“This has been hard on him. And now with the family trying to exert their authority …”

“That.” Ross shook his head. “Of course they have every right to move him to another facility. We can’t stop them.”

“But so damn far. He won’t be able to visit. That’s what has him so upset. He’s sure Lee won’t recover without him.”

“From what I’ve seen, it doesn’t look like Dallas is going to recover either way.”

“All the more reason then, to keep him where he is. If it really is only a matter of time.”

“We can’t tell the family what to do with their loved ones. It’s their choice. You know that.”

“What about Freddy? He should have some say. He and Lee have been together for twenty years.”

Ross spread his hands. “They aren’t married.”

“They can’t get married in Pennsylvania.” Alan felt his temper rising and the flush creeping into his cheeks.

“Well, don’t blame me, buddy. I’m not responsible for singlehandedly holding your people down.”

“This isn’t a joke, Ross.”

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Ross sighed. “I know, and I don’t mean to make it one. There isn’t anything I can do, really.”

“But you’re going to talk to the family.”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

Alan nodded. But something in Ross’s manner felt off. Maybe it was the almost imperceptible hesitation before he’d answered, or maybe it was the edge of defensiveness. He couldn’t say.

“Even if they won’t listen, it’s the least I can do. And it was what he needed to hear.”

“So you lied to him?” Alan couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice.

“No. I said I’d do what I could, and I will. I told him what he wanted to hear. And I gave him hope. You saw how much better he looked when he left.”

Freddy had looked better, more hopeful, Alan couldn’t deny it. But he didn’t trust Ross.

“So when will you talk to the family? It’s not like they ever come to visit.”

“I’ll give the brother a call.” Ross glanced at his watch. “Oh, damn, will you look at the time? I’m late for a meeting. Will you excuse me, Alan?”

Alan stood. “I have to go too.”

After disposing of the trash, Alan left the staff cafeteria and returned to the floor.

Michael finished typing and checked his word count. Two-thousand. Yes!

Leaning back in his chair he stretched and heard his neck crack. Wincing, he stood. It was a good morning’s work even if the words had come hard, like opening a vein. Surprising he’d gotten any words at all after how late he and Robby had stayed up. It was so good to have someone to talk to about Phillip, almost like having him back in a way. Even though Robby had only spent that one week with them, his memory of Phillip was sharp and vivid, as if he’d seen the real essence of the man which made it easy to reminisce. And laugh, God how they had laughed over Phillip’s bad Spanish and how he had insisted on using it everywhere they went.

After his evening with Robby, Michael had gone to bed less lonely for Phillip than he’d been since his lover’s death. And he’d even had a dream about him. A very erotic dream in which Phillip was making love to him. He had woken up with a hard-on and not just because he had to piss.

Michael closed his eyes and concentrated on the dream, trying to bring it back in every detail while he stroked his cock and fondled his balls just the way Phillip used to. It didn’t take long before he came.

It was the first time since Phillip’s death, aside from that time with Alan, that Michael had felt any desire at all. Not that his own hand was a substitute for Phillip’s, or Alan’s, but at least he knew that part of his life might return to him one day.

Michael heard a floor-board creak overhead and he smiled.

It was nice having someone else in the house. Not so lonely as it had been. But then he paused. What was Robby doing in his bedroom?

Probably looking for him.

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Michael went to the foot of the stairs, but just as he started up, he heard Robby’s footsteps coming down the hall.

“Hey,” Robby greeted him, stopping at the top of the stairs.

“I’m just about ready to leave.”

“Yeah?” Michael came up the rest of the way and paused at the top, one hand still resting on the post. “Did you need something?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you in my room. Were you looking for me?”

“Oh.” Robby paused then laughed a little. “Actually I was looking for a hair-brush. I couldn’t find mine and I thought …

Well, I probably should have asked you first. But I don’t have cooties, I swear.”

“As long as there’s no cooties, I guess it’s okay.”

Michael inhaled. Robby stood close enough that he could smell him and that scent, a mix of starch from his shirt and soap from his shower, smelled so much like Phillip, it stopped him in his tracks. He caught his breath as something, some half-healed wound inside him, ripped wide open and bled.

“What is it?” A warm hand closed on Michael’s arm. “Michael, what?”

Michael shook his head. “Nothing. I don’t know. I think it’s the soap. It just … you smell like Phillip and it took me by surprise, I guess.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry. I thought it would be okay. I found the soap in the bathroom. I didn’t know …” Robby trailed his hand down to cover Michael’s on the post and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Michael.”

“It’s okay.” Michael turned his hand over and returned Robby’s squeeze. And for a moment they stood like that, holding hands at the top of the stairs. Robby’s hand was larger than Michael’s with a broad palm and long fingers, like Phillip’s hand but different.

And that was a dangerous thought.

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Michael let go. “So, you’re ready to go?”

“Yeah, the interview isn’t till eleven, but I don’t want to be late.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah. I mean, part of me knows they won’t reject me because they don’t like my haircut or they think my shoes are ugly, but I want to make a good impression in case it could tip the scales in my favor. I really want to go to school here in Philly.”

“It’s a great city.”

“I think I’d like it here.” There was a pause that felt weirdly awkward, like someone had forgotten to tell Michael his next line. But that was just silly. Hadn’t he just been thinking how comfortable he was with Robby? So where had this weirdness come from?

“Okay, well, don’t let me hold you up.” Michael stepped aside to let Robby pass, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“Hey, can I have a kiss for luck?”

Michael hesitated but then grinned and shrugged. What harm could one kiss do?

He cupped Robby’s jaw in one hand. He had shaved and the skin under his fingers was smooth and soft. He loved the feel of freshly-shaven cheeks. Michael leaned in and touched their lips together. But when he would have drawn back, Robby’s hands slid around his waist and Robby’s mouth opened, his tongue sliding along the seam of Michael’s lips, asking for entrance.

Michael opened, he didn’t know why, couldn’t say, only that it seemed like the thing to do. Then Robby’s tongue was in his mouth, sliding over and around his, tasting him like he wasn’t in a hurry to leave but had all day and intended to take his time about it. The hands holding him tugged him closer, but when Robby’s body shifted bringing their cocks into alignment, Michael broke the kiss and struggled free.

He stepped back because it seemed vital to gain some space.

“Whoa!” Robby caught his arm. “Careful of the steps. I can’t
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have you going ass over tits down the stairs just because of one kiss. What would your family say?”

✧ ✦ ✧

Michael thought about that kiss the entire time Robby was gone, was distracted by it and the fact that he had enjoyed it, all of it, the way Robby’s lips felt against his, firm and soft at once, the way Robby had held him, close but careful as if Michael was something delicate that might shatter. Then there was the cock that had touched his own ever so briefly. Robby had been hard already, and while Michael hadn’t, his dick had certainly begun to take an interest by the time he freaked out and nearly took a header down the stairs.

What would it be like to be with Robby again? Different certainly since the two of them had never been alone. But would sex with Robby be a comfort the way talking with him was, or would it only point up the absence of Phillip? Did he dare find out?

And what about Alan?

He hadn’t called, and though it was only two days since their fight at the game, Michael was beginning to wonder if he would.

Or was Alan waiting for him to call? Well, if he was he could damn well wait, because Michael was not giving in. He was not wrong and so would not buy the problem and apologize. He’d done that for years with Phillip in the name of keeping the peace and never going to bed angry. But no more.

What would Alan say if he’d seen that kiss at the top of the stairs? If he knew Michael was thinking about sex, the very thing he’d said he wasn’t ready for.

It didn’t matter because he hadn’t seen and he wouldn’t know, not even if Michael decided to take Robby to his bed to test out his theory.

He wondered what time Robby would be home. Not that he had any right to wonder, or to expect the man to come straight here after his interview. Still, now that he had started down that too soon FoR Love
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road, he was sort of anxious to see Robby again and find out if the spark he’d felt was one-sided, or if Robby had felt it too.

In the meantime, he should get some work done, or if not actual work then he should try to get through some of the household chores he had neglected since Robby’s arrival.

Michael went to the study and booted Phillip’s laptop. His laptop, he corrected, he had to start thinking of it, and everything else, as his because it was, all of it.

Alan had helped him get set up for online banking so he could at least pay some of his bills and balance his account himself.

Alan. Just the thought of the man made him feel a little melancholy. Just this morning he’d read something in the New York Times and his first thought was that he should tell Alan or send him the link because it would make him laugh, but then he reminded himself that he was mad at Alan for acting like an asshole.

Still, the man had helped him a lot with the estate paperwork.

And by helping him, he had eliminated the need to involve Phillip’s family in the process. Oh, they still called almost every day and Karen still made unannounced visits, but Michael thought they were finally getting the message that he wasn’t helpless or in need of a keeper.

Opening the browser, Michael went to the bank’s web site and accessed his account. He was still getting used to the site layout and where he could find all the relevant information for keeping his account current. Since he’d never really had to manage his own money, except when he was a college student and didn’t have any, he was a little paranoid about overdrawing and bouncing checks.

So much so that he balanced the account every time he paid a bill.

He moved the cursor around the screen, making note of balances, payments made and to whom, deducting in his head each output until he reached a payment he didn’t recognize. For fifteen hundred dollars.

What the hell?

The payment had been made on the first of the month to a
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United Properties Alliance. Michael didn’t recognize the name from any of the bills he and Alan had been paying. Nor did it look like anything estate related. Clicking over to Google, he typed in the name of the company and hit enter.

It was a property management company with offices all over the northeast.

It must be a mistake. Maybe someone had transposed some numbers and accessed his account by accident.

Michael reached for the phone. He dialed the bank and made his way through the voice response system until at last a human answered the call.

“This is Francine. How can I help you today?”

Michael explained the situation, properly identified himself as the real Michael Stricker then waited while Francine clicked away on her computer.

He could hear the keyboard in the background and Francine’s breathing through the phone.

“It’s no mistake, sir,” Francine chirped in her cheery, customer service voice. “These payments have been going out automatically for over a year now.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Francine echoed. “I’m sure I don’t know, Mr. Stricker.

Maybe you could call the company and ask them.”

Returning to the management company’s web site, Michael began to search for a phone number or email contact. But before he found one, the front door opened and Robby came in.

“Hey, honey, I’m home.” Robby sang out the words. He sounded upbeat and happy.

“In here.” Michael got up from the desk then, not sure why he did it, he clicked on the screen saver before Robby came in.

“Hey, Michael.” Robby bounded into the study and straight to Michael and grabbed him in a hug. “I think I got it dicked.”

“Yeah? That’s terrific!” Michael hugged Robby back, a little too soon FoR Love
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too aware of that lean swimmer’s body and those broad shoulders and strong arms.

Robby let him go, and Michael squashed the twinge of disappointment that the man hadn’t tried to kiss him again.

“Of course I won’t know for a while yet. But I think the interview went really well. At least the guy I talked to seemed to really like me and felt positive about my chances. So it looks like I could be moving here to Philly. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”