7. Markus
CHAPTER 7
MARKUS
It’s a date .
Ugh.
Those words have haunted me for nearly forty-eight hours. So dumb and silly and wrong. We’re just friends jogging together. And are we even friends yet? We hardly know each other. We’re just two dog dads taking the same route to run around town.
It’s not a damn date.
And the look Adam gave me when I said it, like he was laughing at my stupid faux pas…
Ugh!
I’m still embarrassed. Mortified .
The thing that frustrates me most is how flustered I feel about it. This awkward guy Adam keeps encountering is not me. I’m not someone who fawns all over an attractive man like a lovestruck teenager. I’m patient, quiet, and calm, methodical and thoughtful in everything I do.
But tell that to my stomach right now as I shower before my jog with Adam and Drusilla. My insides are tied in knots, my head is a mess, and I’m hyperaware of every sound. As if I think Adam might show up early, walk right through my door, and come find me in the shower, naked and wet and thinking of him.
Rufus seems just as edgy, pacing in front of the door, anxious for our date too. When neither of us can stand it anymore, I get him into his harness and leash, and we head outside, down the stairs. I take my time stretching on the sidewalk in front of the clinic.
It’s cloudy today, and the air has that portent of rain to it. I breathe in deeply, loving the charged, wet aroma of an approaching fall storm. Too warm and humid for sweatpants today, I’m in my running shorts and a blue T-shirt. I certainly did not choose blue because it looks good with my eyes. Heh. Of course that’s why I chose it. I’m so transparent ? —
“Hey.” Adam’s voice startles me, and I spin around to see him looking good in his running shorts and tight T-shirt. It’s green, like his eyes, and I grin. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s being transparent here. Rufus whines and hops a little, trained not to pull on his leash but impatient to be by Drusilla’s side nonetheless.
Drusilla isn’t quite so well behaved, yanking on her leash as she barks dramatically. When she ignores Adam’s attempts to get her to sit and stay, he gives up and lets her drag him to Rufus and me.
“Hey,” I say back when he’s in front of me, looking a little shiny from the run he took to meet me here.
Adam smiles, and God, he’s got a great smile, a great mouth, really. I frown at that wayward, lascivious thought.
His smile sinks into a frown, too, as he looks down at Drusilla. “Well, it’s official.” He pets the dog while she ignores him, sniffing excitedly at Rufus. “I’m failing at these obedience lessons.”
I chuckle when Drusilla mounts Rufus, and Adam tries to command her to sit. She doesn’t. Rufus, on the other hand, sits perfectly still as his favorite puppy showers him with all her love and affection.
“Girl, you’re lucky you’re cute,” Adam says with a huff. “She was doing so well, following every command, until she saw her boyfriend. Then all reason fell away, and she ran to him with needy desperation.”
Girl, I can relate . I give Drusilla a couple head pats in sympathy and understanding.
Adam nods his chin toward the sidewalk, and we begin our jog, falling into an easy stride as we make our way up Main Street, past the old library, and down to the creek.
As we move, the heavy gray sky seems to bubble and froth, tendrils of wind twisting through the leaves of the sycamore trees, reaching out with chilly fingers from the advancing cold front.
This is probably not a good day for a jog. The morning weatherman was going on about a Blue Norther bringing much cooler temperatures and thunderstorms, but I ignored him. I wouldn’t have missed this rendezvous with Adam for anything, and I get the impression he feels the same way.
“Are you coming to the wedding this weekend?” Adam asks. His question catches me off guard. I haven’t decided what to do about the two wedding invites stuck to my fridge with the gnome magnets that came with the apartment.
“I, uh, guess?” As far as answers go, it’s not my best.
Adam easily senses my hesitation and launches into his hard sell: “You should come. It’ll be a blast. Drew’s my fire brother, and Chloe is amazing. She’s going all out with this wedding. She designed a lovely arbor for their backyard that overlooks the hills to the west. We built it last week and draped everything in little twinkle lights.” He glances at me and waggles his brows as he adds, “Very romantic.”
Christ on a cracker! He’s gorgeous when he does that. And the likelihood of my attendance is rising with his every word.
“Plus, I look damn fine in my dress blues.”
Sold! First time I laid eyes on this man, he looked stunning in his dress uniform. I’m suddenly desperate to see him in it again…and perhaps help him strip out of it too.
Still innocently talking about the wedding, Adam adds, “They made fancy little bow ties for the ringbearers—their cats, Bodhi and Utah.”
I can only imagine chaos with those two ornery cats bearing the wedding rings, and I laugh at the notion. “Sounds like a good time. I’m looking forward to it.”
Adam smiles with that open expression of his and nods to our left. Damn, we’ve already arrived at the Pump & Sip, our breakfast destination. It feels too soon. I was enjoying the peace of our run with the sounds of the wind gusting through the leaves, the dogs’ claws clicking on the pavement, and the deep rumble of Adam’s voice as he’d talked.
This place is just as busy as it was the last time we swung by here. Through the gas station window I can see a crowd inside, and an electronic bell chimes every few seconds as patrons come and go. The atmosphere is far too chaotic for the dogs, so we loop their leashes around a small tree, leaving them secure and together. Then Adam pulls the door open, and we step inside the unassuming gas station.
Wow.
The place is packed, with a line of people snaking from the counter to the far wall and then looping around the perimeter of the room to the door we just entered. Last I checked, this town isn’t that big. Where did all these people come from? Is this the entire town, or does the throng include travelers passing through on the highway too?
“Probie,” Adam says from beside me. I’m confused by the word until I see that Adam is speaking to someone else as he asks, “What are you doing up this early on your day off?”
Standing a few customers ahead of us in line, a hulking beefcake of a man turns around and glances between Adam and me, then smiles widely when he answers, “There’s never a day off when your dad runs a construction company.”
How do these two know each other? I watch their body language, trying to translate the energy between them. They’re friendly, but guarded. Familiar, yet distant. Did they date?
After a moment where all of us smile awkwardly at each other, the hulk—who’s built like a Cross Fit dude who flips tractor tires as part of his workout—gives up his spot in line to join us at ours. “Hi,” he says to me. “I’m Knox County.”
Knox County? What a name. Momentarily forgetting my manners, I just stare at him. Then I remember to speak and say, “I’m Markus Ely. Nice to meet you.”
We shake hands, and despite the guy’s massive bulk and the weird energy between him and Adam, his handshake is firm but very friendly.
“Ely, right, you’re the town’s new vet. I’ve been hearing all about you from Dee. Something about a wedding invite.”
I chuckle, still surprised by how gossipy everyone is in this town. Most of my life I’ve lived in places that people called “small,” but those towns had tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of residents. Krause has just over fifteen hundred souls—half the size of your average cruise ship. This is truly a small town, and it seems everyone here already knows something about me. While I know nothing about them.
Like he can sense the discomfort that fact gives me, Adam says, “Markus, Knox is the new probationary officer at my fire station.”
Aha! They’re colleagues. Not lovers. Why that thought sends a tidal wave of relief through me, I will not analyze right now… Or maybe I will. Because this encounter has me wondering a few things: Is Adam out? Am I? I was out at A&M, but this town is a blank slate. What do I want my first mark to be? And if I’m out, am I out with Adam? This is our second very public meal together… Does that mean that we are together?—
“What about you guys? Why are you out so early this morning?” Knox asks.
His use of “you guys” makes it sound like we’re together, a unit, and when he asks why we’re “out,” I get a little shiver up my spine. Does Adam hear it, too, and does he like what he hears?
In answer to Knox’s spoken questions and my silent ones, Adam says, “Markus and I kept running into each other when we were jogging with our dogs, so I figured I’d show him around town, come to where the locals get their grub.”
Hmm. That doesn’t sound very together .
Fortunately, the food line moves fast at the Pump & Sip, and before I can put too much thought to it, we’re at the counter.
Knox orders so much food I think he’ll clean the place out, but the two women manning the counter bring out more trays, the piping hot pastries leaving a trail of steam and drooling customers in their wake.
They pack up his order in a couple of bags, and Knox gives us a nod as he carries his breakfast haul out to his truck, destined for one of the new housing developments over on the highway.
Finally, it’s our turn. My eyes widen, and my mouth waters as I stare at all the goodies in the glass case, but I let Adam order for both of us, curious what he likes. He orders a few of the sausage, cheese, and jalape?o klobasneks as well as cream cheese kolaches for dessert.
The women behind the counter work efficiently, one stuffing the food into a bag as the other brings us bottles of water and rings us up. This time I insist on paying, and when we’re set, I carry the food while Adam handles the waters, and we head out to the dogs.
A chilly gust of wind tries to pull the door off its hinges, and I push it closed behind me as the stormfront blows through the street, whipping leaves off the trees and blasting us with plumes of road dust. The sky darkened to a dusky gloom while we were inside, and deep rumbles of approaching thunder have Drusilla whining anxiously.
“The rain won’t be long now. Come on, let’s run for cover,” Adam says as we unfasten the dog leashes from the tree.
He gestures toward Main Street, then he and Drusilla sprint in that direction. Rufus and I follow, the pace pushing me past the point of exhaustion. But it feels good, my muscles straining forward as the cold, damp air tries to push me back.
In the end, we can't outrun the storm. The rain catches us as we turn onto Main Street. Ahead, the main square gazebo stands as a beacon, a dry shelter from the torrent falling from the sky. We pick up our pace, racing to the structure and taking the steps two at a time.
Finally sheltered from the storm, I bend over, huffing in air, trying to catch my breath. When I can, I stand again and push the soaked strands of hair out of my face. Adam paces in a little circle, his fingers laced behind his head, catching his breath. His green shirt is soaked, turning it a darker color and painting it over every bulge and muscle in his chest and arms. And, speaking of bulges, his running shorts seem to show— No, wait, those are the bottles of water, shoved into his pockets. Which reminds me… I look at the damp paper bag in my own hand and worry that the storm might have ruined our food.
The driest spot beneath our shelter is the southeast corner, so I go there, squatting to set the bag down and look inside. The food seems safe, dry, and intact, and the smell attracts everyone else. Adam and I shoo the dogs away as we divvy up the food and beverages, then we sit there on the cool cement floor of the old bandstand to eat our breakfast together.
I start with my dessert first, as usual, sinking my teeth into the soft sugary pastry with a warm dollop of cream cheese at the top, and I damn near die and go to heaven. Adam smiles and nods at the delighted noises I make as I devour the treat. It’s delicious, and when I’ve finished, I lick my fingers clean of the sweetness.
Next, I reach into the bag for my serving of savory. I’ve had kolaches before, but this is my first klobasnek. It looks like an ordinary bread roll, but the moment I bite into it, I know it’s like nothing I’ve eaten before. Inside the roll is a link of kielbasa sausage nestled in a cushion of melted cheddar cheese. A couple slices of jalape?o pepper add the perfect kick.
“Ohmygod!” I exclaim rudely, because my mouth is completely full of food. But really, “Ohmyfuckinggod!”
Adam laughs, seeming to delight in watching me savor the rest of my klobasnek as he enjoys his kolache. And right then, in that moment, everything seems perfect and good and nice and easy. The sensation—what is this, peace?—feels foreign to me.
So, of course, I ruin it when I say, “I wouldn’t be so na?ve as to say this is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth, but it’s damn close.”
Adam blinks at me, then bursts into a fit of laughter. The acoustics of the bandstand and the raging storm around us amplify the sound, filling my ears and heart and soul. “Well, now I need to know what tops that list.”
I raise a brow, but don’t take the bait. This is not the time to talk about the myriad of things I’ve had in my mouth. Instead, I watch the storm.
Rain falls in torrents that drum loudly on the gazebo’s metal roof. Lightning fingers across the sky, and thunder rumbles ominously. Gusts of wind shed the trees of their leaves and a few branches too. And the temperature has dropped at least twenty degrees in the last ten minutes.
This isn’t just some drippy little rain shower. It’s a Blue Norther, a storm fueled by Canada-cold fury that explodes with violence when it meets the steamy moisture of the Gulf of Mexico. It seems odd, to feel such peace in the heart of a raging tempest, but as I glance over at Adam and the dogs, peace is the word that keeps coming to mind.
“Don’t you just love storms like this?” Adam asks as he wipes his hands and stuffs his trash into the empty sack. He grins over at me, then stretches his legs out as he lies on his back. Staring up at the vaulted ceiling of the bandstand and the raging storm at its edges, he adds, “So much energy and excitement in the air. So much…fucking… passion .”
Hmm. Where I feel peace, he feels passion. Interesting.