Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
MICAH
What on earth was the proper response to that? If I said thank you, I sounded vain. If I said stop, he’d ignore me and say something even more outrageous. Without a clear direction, I went with silence. The bonus to that was a moment to take this place in. It truly was the nicest restaurant I’d ever been in. By the time I was consistently in foster care, I was put in group homes, not with families. Occasionally, we’d go for fast food, but never a sit-down place. I’d had to pinch every penny in college, so I wouldn’t have spent the money then either.
The wood beams, dark leather, and candles gleaming around the room also put stars in my eyes. This was the reason I’d started coming over to Almstead. Not the restaurant itself but the safety it represented. Being on the street on the mainland had been terrifying. When I’d discovered my public transport pass still worked, it was safer to find a place over here with their summer homes and picture-perfect town than stay across the water. The ferry ran early enough that I could still make it to the day labor site, so why not?
“Hello, here’s some water for you both.” The server interrupted my train of thought, and I welcomed the disruption. If this were the only time I’d be at a place like this, I wanted to enjoy myself and not think about how miserable the last six months had been. “Can I get you anything else to drink or get something started for you?”
“Micah, would you like something besides water?”
“No, thank you. Water is fine.”
“Is water fine, or do you want something else?”
“Are you looking for something with or without alcohol? We have a spiced pear cider that’s my favorite, but it’s not hard cider,” the server offered.
“Sounds great. Want to try it?” Cal asked.
“Sure.”
“Two, please, and whatever local stout you have on tap,” Calvin ordered. “We’d like some bread too, please?”
“Of course. I’ll be right back.”
With the server gone, I had too much time to consider what Calvin would be like if he got drunk. Nothing good had ever happened around alcohol for me, so the odds weren’t great. Certainly, I had no right to make any imposition on him. Since I didn’t know how to drive, I couldn’t offer to drive him home. And I had no money to pay for an Uber I wasn’t sure they had over here anyway. I was spiraling.
Calvin’s gravelly voice sounded far away, but his warm hand covered mine. “Micah, look at me.” The firm tone compelled me in ways I didn’t understand, but I obeyed his instructions. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“N-nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me. You’re two steps away from a panic attack. Tell me the truth.”
His voice was like a vampire laying out a compulsion spell. Any ability to lie or hide from him was nonexistent.
“Being with someone who’s drinking makes me nervous. My parents were killed by a drunk driver. My dad never handled his liquor well either. But it’s okay. I don’t expect people to change their preferences for me.”
Calvin eyed me contemplatively, but I wasn’t sure what it meant. Luckily, the server was back with a tray holding our drinks.
“You should,” Calvin retorted.
Why would people change for me? They liked what they liked, and I had to learn to deal with it.
“Here, you go,” the server said upon his return.
I fixated on the beer the server set in front of Calvin, but I desperately tried to hide it.
“I apologize for the extra work, but please return the beer and leave it on the bill.”
“Oh yeah, sure. Is everything okay?”
The server’s confusion was fair, but I was too busy finding my composure to help him. It was a shock Calvin had sent it back, but the bigger shock was he hadn’t sounded angry.
“Everything is fine. We still need a little more time with the menu.”
The server left with the beer and an offer to return in a few minutes. A glance at the menu Calvin handed me reaffirmed what I’d already guessed when I sat down. I had no idea what ninety percent of these dishes were. I recognized salad, though, and fresh produce was a treat for me. Gas station bananas were always at least two dollars, even when they were mostly brown and bruised.
“May I have a salad, please?”
Calvin side-eyed me over his menu and gave me an approving nod. “Of course. What else are you having?”
“That’s it.”
“Micah, you need food that will provide calories for your body. Salad, yes, but you need something more.” Calvin’s voice was firm and uncompromising. “If you’re not sure what you want, you could order every damn dish on the menu and it would be fine because it’s all delicious.”
I gnawed on my lip in indecision without answering him. My first hesitation was ordering the wrong thing, and my second was the price. Even the salad seemed expensive to me.
“Can I help you decide?” I nodded. “Do you like meat with every meal?”
“I don’t love it.”
“In that case, how about mushroom risotto?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s rice but creamy, and it’s good with a salad. The house dressing is delicious,” Calvin suggested. He didn’t sound exasperated or annoyed, but I still felt foolish sitting here with a man who wanted me to step into a life so far out of my league.
“It sounds wonderful, thank you.”
“All right, gentlemen, here’s your bread and butter. I apologize for the delay, but I wanted to ensure your bread was fresh out of the oven. The butter is also fresh. Did you decide on your dinner?” The server set the bread on the table, and I was mesmerized.
“Thank you, and yes. He’ll have the mushroom risotto, and I’ll have the roast chicken with pesto. We’d both like a field greens salad with the house dressing.”
The server took our menus and promised our food would be out as soon as possible, but the kitchen was a little backed up.
“Would you like some bread?” Calvin asked with a smirk. Could he see the drool?
At my nod, he sawed off the heel before smearing butter across it. He handed it over, and I immediately took a bite.
The sourdough’s tart flavor exploded on my tongue but was tempered by the butter’s sweetness. I shoved the rest of the piece in my mouth and closed my eyes to savor it. I’d never had homemade bread, let alone fresh from the oven. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever put in my mouth. When I opened my eyes, Calvin already had another piece of buttered bread waiting for me. I shoved that one in too. After my fourth slice, I realized he hadn’t had any.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Did I eat it all?”
Calvin’s bemused smile told me whatever he was feeling about me hogging the good stuff, it wasn’t anger. “Well, I was afraid if I took a slice, you’d shank me for it.”
My eyes grew large with horror. “I would never .”
Calvin threw back his head and laughed, and then I joined in, and suddenly, dinner seemed a lot less frightening. I managed to share the remainder of the bread and Calvin filled me in on the island’s history.
Our dinners eventually arrived and were delicious, as promised. It almost felt like an actual date. Or maybe not. My previous encounters had been hookups arranged online without much romance attached. Sitting in candlelight with delicious food was a far cry from a couple of rushed quickies in someone’s dorm room. In the low-light moment, I could almost imagine this entire situation was real. It wasn’t, but Cinderella fantasies came fast and furious. We ate in companionable silence because I was too busy savoring my dinner to waste oxygen on talking.
“Anniversaries are something to be celebrated! Congratulations to you both!” The server set a cake down with a flourish as the surrounding tables clapped in support. Our protests that we weren’t the correct reservation to be celebrated were drowned out by the cries of congratulations from the other diners. “It’s tradition for the happy couple to kiss over the cake!”
I froze in my chair. Regardless of the nonsense Calvin said about us dating, we weren’t. Definitely not dating dating. He hadn’t explicitly said he was straight, but that was my impression. It was too far above my pay grade to understand whatever game was being played. If he wanted to experiment, there were any number of people who could attend events with him that were considerably more appropriate than me.
“We can’t disappoint the people, can we?” Calvin leaned in and beckoned me closer.
Something in this man demanded obedience from me, and I was helpless to resist. As instructed, I leaned forward while he did the same. Calvin cupped my face and maybe shielded it the tiniest bit with his elegant, long-fingered hands. The slight pressure made my skin tingle, and my gaze involuntarily dropped to his lips because there was no way I could look him in the eyes. My entire body shuddered when his thumb brushed against my lower lip.
Calvin fit his mouth over mine, but this time, his tongue traced the seam before I willingly granted him entry. His tongue slid against my own, and sheer need exploded in my core. Every cell in my body stood at attention and begged for relief, but I didn’t know where it would come from. Calvin was in complete control of this kiss and every other part of me. The paradox of it being so mindlessly freeing while abjectly terrifying wasn’t lost on me. The applause and laughter of the other diners faded as he sampled my mouth over and over.
Whatever his sexuality, whatever game he was playing…this man held the power to destroy me. The only question left was whether I’d participate in the demolition.
Absolutely, yes. I would set up the dynamite myself.
The ride back to Calvin’s house was silent, but the air crackled with electricity. I wasn’t sure what to say or do, but Calvin had no such qualms. His hand rested possessively on my thigh like he had every right to lay claim to me.
Objectively, I couldn’t say I hated it, but I was confused. Was this a quirk of being rich? Was it possible to decide you were claiming someone, and that was that? Those of us a few rungs down the ladder had to do a little more finessing when it came to having that much cockiness. I kinda sorta maybe liked it entirely too much.
Truthfully, I couldn’t imagine life with so much confidence. My entire existence was spent making myself as small and invisible as possible. If my father forgot I was there, he’d hit me less. My brother gladly forgot I existed. If the group home boys forgot me, they’d hit me less too. If they forgot about me, they wouldn’t remember I was gay and think I was down to suck them off as protection against getting hit. I could teach a master class on how to blend in and disappear. As best I could tell, nothing escaped Calvin’s awareness. Every wince or smile I’d given, he noticed and cataloged. I wasn’t sure how to function with this much scrutiny.
“Before next week, we need to sit down and review a few things so you know what to expect at the functions you’ll be going to.” Calvin glanced over at me in the passenger seat. His hand that reflexively kneaded my thigh was like a brand. “Are you too tired tonight to talk a little about it, or would you rather wait until tomorrow?”
“Tonight is fine if you want.” I tried to project confidence in my voice, but I doubted it worked because Calvin glanced at me again with a quizzical expression.
“If it’s too much, you can say so.” He’d stopped kneading but switched to lazy circles with his index finger. If spontaneous combustion was a thing, it was about to be demonstrated in this vehicle. I shifted in my seat in hopes of hiding my chubbing dick.
“You okay, little one? Feeling all right?” His tone was innocent and bland, but no one spoke so innocently or blandly unless it was on purpose. The twitch of his lips that he tried to hide by turning his head sealed the deal. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“Perfect. Thank you.” I couldn’t have sounded more prim if I’d tried.
“When we’re home…” Calvin paused and waited for me to argue, but I ignored his trap. “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable and meet me in the living room? We can go over a few things before next week.”
I nodded mutely with no faith in my ability to speak again. It was becoming a regular problem for me.
The remaining eight minutes of the drive were the longest and most excruciating I’d ever experienced. I was fully aware of the sounds of my breathing and worked hard to keep my lungs on an even keel, but the smirk never left Calvin’s mouth. He wasn’t trying to hide his enjoyment of my predicament.
His hands hadn’t moved off my thigh, which left me with the concerning issue of where to lay my hands. The placement he chose—because, of course, he did—was about halfway up my thigh. My hands couldn’t go over because the only place to put one of them would be over his. Under wouldn’t work because that would be too obvious and awkward. The only option left was to cross my arms over my chest and look petulant.
“That doesn’t look comfortable.”
Seven minutes.
“It is. I’m just a little chilly.”
“You should have said something, little one.” Calvin clicked on the seat warmer and turned the heat up until the car was toasty, which took about ten seconds. It was hot even.
Six minutes.
“Calvin, we could talk now.”
“I thought we’d decided Daddy was better.”
Oh God, what was I supposed to say? Calvin reached up and pulled down one of my hands, lacing our fingers together. “I distinctly remember the conversation.”
“I, uh, I thought you were mostly joking.” I stared down at our hands, which now rested in my lap.
Five minutes.
“Why would I joke about that? I won’t lie and say anyone has called me that before because you’d be my first, but it seems fitting. But I know Daddies take care of their boys. They keep them safe and protected. I want to do all those things for you.”
“I don’t understand why.”
“Because I do,” Calvin—Daddy, I guess—answered with a shrug like it was the most straightforward answer in the world. Like there weren’t expectations of him outside the confines of the incredibly good-smelling car. What was that air freshener? Like the world, or at least our corner of it, wouldn’t be watching and wondering who I was and how I had gotten this coveted position next to him. As if I wouldn’t wonder how this all would end, and if the moment I angered him, I’d be back out on the street, less prepared than I was now.
Four minutes.
“I know this feels like a whirlwind, but you don’t need to worry.” He added with a rueful chuckle, “I’m aware telling someone not to worry is like telling them not to breathe.”
“There are some concerns I could mention,” I said with a brittle laugh.
My sense of self-preservation battled with my need to be honest. Logic would have dictated I kept my mouth shut and did everything I could to make Calvin Rutledge happy. He’d eventually tire of whatever game he’d started, and I’d potentially walk away with some leverage and leeway for the future.
It wasn’t logic guiding me, though, and that certainly wasn’t why I felt compelled to follow this bizarre plan. It was partly lust because holy saints, anyone who saw Daddy would understand that. But this urge to obey him was all-encompassing and overwhelming. He was alluring in the same way a snake couldn’t resist the charmer. My analogy didn’t exactly cover me with glory since I didn’t like to think of myself as a snake, even if the description was close to the truth. My venom, even though I wasn’t sure how I spread it, was pure poison. One way or another, I drove everyone away.
One minute.
“You can mention those concerns during our chat tonight, and we’ll see what I can do to address them.” He squeezed my hand, and it might as well have been my dick. His smooth voice was a heady drug, and I knew I’d live to regret what I was about to say.
“All right, Daddy.”