Toronto Tales 1 - Cop Out (16 page)

“Hey, man, what’s going on? I’ve never seen you looking so freaked,” Ian said.

 

“Mom was talking to me about getting married, settling down.”

“Oh, shit, that sucks. Why would you want to do that? There are so many women as yet untried.”
Dylan snorted. “But not for lack of trying, eh? Really, though, just one woman forever? Maybe in a few years I’ll be ready for that.”

For all that Kurt was the baby, there were only three years between him and Dylan, with Ian falling almost exactly in the middle. They all had plenty of time before thinking about settling down.

“You don’t have a girlfriend you haven’t told us about, do you?” Ian asked.

 

“No.” Kurt needed to stop talking about this, now.

Ian and Dylan shared a funny look. Oh, God. Surely they didn’t suspect? How could they?
“So… pool….”

S
IMON
was almost as good as the three of them, which was saying something because they’d been practicing at this table since they were tall enough to see what they were doing. But others were waiting, and after quickly clearing the table, they stepped away, turning the table over to other friends.

Jen wandered over, a beer in hand for Simon. “Thanks, hon.” He bent down to give her a sweet kiss.

“I like your family,” she said to Kurt.
“Thanks. I like ’em too, most of the time.”
Jen smiled, and Ian lightly punched him in the shoulder.

“We’ll be back in a sec,” Dylan said, as he and Ian both inspected their empty beer bottles.
“Bring one back for me,” Kurt called. Ian flipped him off.

“I’m sorry, I should have gotten you one,” Jen said.

“No, of course not. I’ll go grab one in a minute. He’s just being an ass.”
Caitlyn bustled up to the table. “There you are,” she said to Jen. “C’mon, bring Simon.” She turned a frown on Kurt.

“You should have told me you knew Jen.”

“When and why would I have done that?” Kurt didn’t think it unreasonable to be annoyed at her accusing tone. He spent the least amount of time with the twins—they were always doing stuff together with their own little nuclear families.

“We just started working together. We didn’t realize until tonight that you and Simon were partners.”

“Oh well, of course I should have known you worked together.” Sarcasm dripped from his words, but his sister was, as ever, oblivious. He probably would have known, if Caitlyn didn’t change jobs as often as some people got oil changes. How could he be expected to keep track?

“Go on,” Kurt said when Simon looked reluctant to leave. “I’m going to the bar.”

He picked up another beer and leaned against a nearby wall. All around him were couples. His sisters had invited a few single women friends, but Kurt didn’t think dating them was any better an idea than dating someone at work.

“Hello. You must be Kurt.” A short, generously endowed darkhaired woman stood before him… far too close for a stranger. She was quite pretty, though, and with his height, he could see straight down her cleavage. A hint of pink lace peeked out from the edge of her deep neckline.

“I am.”
“I’m Heidi. One of Heather’s friends.”
“Nice to meet you, Heidi.”

“Heather tells me you’re a cop.” Heidi leaned in even closer and rested her tiny fingers gently on his bicep. He rather thought he should put his sister-in-law’s friends in the same
undateable
category.

“You must be very brave. And you’re obviously very strong.” Heidi squeezed his arm.

Kurt drank a large mouthful of beer to avoid rolling his eyes. Still… he tried to imagine leaning down to kiss her. Stripping her. Feeling the heft of her breasts in his palms. And he couldn’t do it. Not even a flicker of interest in his groin—even less than when he went home with Tiffany.
Oh fuck.
He tried again. This time, putting them in bed together, naked. But she wasn’t tall enough. Didn’t have dimples.
Oh fuck. Sweat sprang out all over, and he tried to back away, but the wall prevented his escape.

“There you are,” Simon broke into his reverie. Heidi had plastered herself to him, her fingers burrowed underneath his sweater as her breasts pressed against his abs.

“Sorry, Miss, I need to borrow Kurt for a bit.” Simon smiled at her, disengaged her hand, and steered Kurt back to the pool table.

“Thanks for the save.” Kurt could breathe again. He’d been heading for a repeat of the Tiffany debacle, and he didn’t think his ego could take another blow like that.

“Don’t thank me, thank Jen.” Simon pointed, and Jen waved at them, a sympathetic smile on her face. “Said she knew a shark when she saw one.”

A shark, eh? More like she figured out how freaked he was. Great. Just fucking great. He couldn’t be mad, though. He’d rather have Jen save him than put up with Heidi’s unoriginal and heavy-handed come-on.
“You want to play another game? Jen and me against you?”

“Nah, you two play. I’ll watch.”

 

Kurt sat on a stool with his back to the wall. He had a great view of the table, but the game didn’t hold his attention.

His brother Mike, with a happy smile on his face, kissed his wife, Heather. His dad grabbed a heavy platter from his mom with a grin. Erin’s husband tenderly brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. Simon cuddled up close behind Jen, ostensibly to show her how to make a tricky shot, but her breathy giggle told another story.

Surrounded by friends and family who loved him, and he’d never felt so alone. He shouldn’t have let his fear keep him from inviting Davy. In fact, his reasons for doing so were so strongly reminiscent of Ben’s actions, shame scalded him. He knew Davy would have gotten along with his family. They’d love him, and Davy would have kept him company all night. Simon was a good friend, but he had Jen. Ian and Dylan were great, but they’d left the party already, probably trying to drum up “dates” for after. They didn’t like to fish in a pond so close to home either.

But he couldn’t have Davy here, even if he wished it. He couldn’t risk anyone guessing, speculating.

Jen knocked a ball into the pocket and squealed, bringing Kurt’s attention back to the table. She’d won, which given Simon’s skill, probably didn’t happen that often.

“Hey, man. We’re going to head out,” Simon said, arm around Jen’s shoulders. “Thanks for inviting us.”

“Anytime. My family thinks you’re great. Glad you were able to come.”
Jen hugged him, and as they left, Kurt checked his watch. After midnight. He could leave too. Although he wanted a shitload more, he’d only had a couple of beers—he could still drive.

He said good-bye to his family, except for Ian and Dylan, who were still missing in action, and left the party room to make his way through the throng in the public part of the restaurant.

Someone grabbed his arm, and he tensed before realizing it was just Ian.

 

“Where are you going? That hot new waitress just invited us to a party later. Her friends are strippers,” Ian hissed.

“And they’re twenty.”
Ian gave him a
so what
look.

God. A party filled with aggressive women like Heidi. Women with expectations he wouldn’t be able to—didn’t want to—fulfill. And within full view of his promiscuous brothers. He’d rather have his eyes gouged out with a swizzle stick. His shitty, empty, lonely apartment with its almost-full bottle of vodka was calling him.

“Not tonight, Ian. I’m tired. It’s been a long week.”

“Best cure for a long week is a quick fuck with an easy lay.” Ian grinned at him.
Kurt shook his head. There was almost a hint of desperation in Ian’s actions. Maybe he was having an early midlife crisis. “Don’t let Mom hear you say that. And I’m still not going.”

“Fine. Lunch this week?”
“Sure, yeah, call me, and let me know what day is good for you.”

Ian left, and Kurt stood there, wondering if he’d made the right decision. He scoped out the bar, wondering which waitress Ian had spoken of, when a slender blond man caught his eye. His gaze traveled the length of the man, build and profile so similar to Davy that if it hadn’t been for the blond hair, he would have assumed he was looking at Davy. The blond turned and met his gaze. He stared at the man for a few seconds, who raised a brow and licked his lips, sending an unexpected punch of lust to his gut, and blood rushing south. This man had gotten a bigger “rise” out of him in mere seconds than several minutes with Heidi’s generous breasts plastered against him.

Oh fuck.

 

He buttoned up his coat and pushed through the crowd, out into the bitter, late November cold.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

I
T WAS
too late to ring the doorbell. Aside from the cheery red and green Christmas lights in the front windows, Davy’s house was dark. Kurt didn’t even know why he was sitting here in his car, except the overwhelming need to be near Davy had been too much to tamp down with a couple of beers in him. All those happy couples at Finn’s—he felt so alone. Davy would probably have hated the crowd, but Kurt was a fool for not inviting him. He was a fool for a number of reasons, because no woman had ever made him so complete. And if he wanted to see how well Davy fit into the rest of his life, he needed to man up and let him in. Share, but not push. Because Davy still had healing to do. He wasn’t willing to take that step—to let Davy or anyone—know about his newly discovered sexual appetite. He still didn’t quite trust it. But fully including Davy as a friend? That he could and should do.

Kurt rubbed his chilly fingers together, his breath escaping in a white puff.

This was stupid. He was sitting out here, like he was on a stakeout, but he’d never drank before going on a stakeout. God. He probably looked suspicious as all hell, and he wouldn’t be surprised if a squad car came by, wondering what he was doing. Inspector Nadar would cuss him out for this stunt. Especially since he couldn’t explain this without admitting things he didn’t want to say aloud. Things he wasn’t sure he could bear to admit to himself.

A dark compact car pulled into Davy’s driveway and the engine cut out. A short man dressed all in black stepped out of the driver’s seat.

Before he’d made a conscious decision, Kurt exited his car and cut across the street to intercept. There was no good reason for anyone to be heading up to Davy’s door after he was clearly asleep.

Then, the passenger door opened and Davy stepped out. Kurt halted, like he’d been coated with water and flash-frozen in a shadowy patch of sidewalk. He was only a few feet from Davy’s drive but neither man noticed him.

The chill from his fingers spread throughout his body, although Kurt was mostly sure it wasn’t physical.
He didn’t recognize the man at all. The murmur of male voices reached him as the two stood on the step, and Davy turned to speak after unlocking the door.

Davy smiled, flashing those dimples a split second before the blond cupped Davy’s cheeks and planted his lips atop Davy’s.
Kurt unfroze as anger exploded, hot and molten, in his chest. Snow crunched underfoot as he sprinted across the yard. He dashed up the porch steps and yanked the stranger from Davy. His Davy.

The stranger yelped and fell back against the window with a hollow thunk.
Davy stared, uncomprehending, while Kurt’s chest moved like a bellows, fists clenched at his sides.

“What the fuck is going on?” Kurt’s voice was hardly recognizable.

The stranger recovered quickly. “Who are you?”
“Who the fuck are
you
? Davy, were you on a fucking
date
?” Kurt wasn’t sure how to express the anger coursing through him without an assault charge, and even though the asshole was no longer kissing or touching Davy, he was getting more irate.
“What the fuck, Kurt?”
“Hey, man, I didn’t know you had a jealous ex.”
“I don’t.” The words shot out of Davy’s mouth like bullets. Kurt had never seen Davy snarl, and he snarled right back.
“Then who the fuck is this?”

Kurt flicked his attention to the stranger. “None of your fucking business.” Kurt’s glare intensified, and the blond grew alarmed by his sudden escalation of anger.

“Do you want me to call the cops, Davy?”

 

“No, he
is
the cops. Just go home, Andrew.”

 

Andrew. A fresh flood of hatred washed through Kurt for
Andrew
.

“Are you sure?” Andrew edged around Kurt, skirting him like a wild animal. Kurt should have cared, but he didn’t. He was ready to fling this dick off the porch, head first into the nearest drift.

“Yes. Go home.” Davy shared the sharp tone Kurt hadn’t heard before tonight with Andrew. Good. Andrew walked to his car. Davy opened the door and stepped through as Andrew drove away.

“Get inside,” Davy ordered. “I’m not yelling where the neighbors can hear.”
Kurt followed him into the living room where Davy shed his coat and threw it over a chair.

“What the hell was that all about?” Davy’s sharp, snippy tone hadn’t abated any. “And take your fucking boots off. You’re tracking snow all over.”

“Are you fucking dating already? How could you?” Kurt flung his boots over into the corner. Somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of Kurt’s mind he thought he’d have a chance to work out what the fuck was going on in his head without worrying about Davy moving on— not needing him anymore.

Davy’s mouth fell open. “I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, but no, I’m not
fucking dating
.” The words twisted into a mocking parody of Kurt’s. “Not yet.”