Chapter Four
Jaxon
It truly was a perfect plan. I only had to get Theo to see that it would be good for both of us. It sure as hell wouldn’t be a hardship for me—Theo was cute, and his shyness was a turn-on.
But first, I had to get him to let me inside his house.
“Come on, Theo. I’m freezing, and I could use a cup of coffee.”
Theo blinked and, to my relief, nodded. “All right.”
I handed him the key he’d dropped so he could open the door, and he flicked the lights on.
It was an old house, looking like it had been neglected for many years, with shabby furniture and dull paint that had faded from white to a hazy gray. I remained silent and took off my coat.
“Can I put it here?” I asked, walking over to the couch.
He shrugged. “Yeah, whatever. Sure. I’ll go make coffee.”
I tossed my coat and trailed after him, even though he hadn’t invited me to, to a spacious kitchen that, again, left me feeling I was in the 1950s.
“You’re into nostalgia?”
He turned red as he poured water and measured the grinds. “N-no. I’m planning to r-renovate soon.”
We each took a chair and sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the coffee drip into the pot. It was unusual for me to be at a loss for words, but that night was sitting between us and needed to be addressed.
“Listen, I know you don’t want to talk about what I saw, and that’s fine.” A blush crept up his neck and stained his pale cheeks. “But can I just say that I’m glad you didn’t go through with it? Dan Thomas is a pretty sleazy guy.”
“Please stop,” Theo whispered as if in agony. “I’m so embarrassed. I don’t know why I did what I did…” He hung his head. “No. That’s a lie. I-I went there to see if…to try—”
“To try what?” I urged, hoping he’d tell me on his own.
“I…I’m just so damn lonely. I wanted…oh God, forget it.”
The coffeemaker beeped, and Theo scrambled to get out of his chair so fast it fell over. He grabbed a mug and poured some, facing away from me at the stained Formica counter.
“You think I’m a fool.”
I shoved my chair away to join him. “What? No, I don’t. Not at all. I do think it wasn’t a well-thought-out plan, because going to a stranger’s room can be dangerous.”
Theo shrugged. “He’s a lawyer. I figured he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Please. That’s a giant misconception. Men are men.
” Theo’s gaze remained trained anywhere but on me.
I continued to press him. “Look, I get it. You were stuck taking care of your father, plus running the bar, and you didn’t have time for a social life.
It must be hard seeing people you know coupling up. ”
He glanced at me, and I saw his green eyes grow misty.
“Yeah. First Jet, then deputies Starr and Kane…that was a shocker. Sometimes I feel like I should forget about it. I mean, not everyone is meant to be part of a couple. I’m okay being single.”
“Except you’re not. I’ve heard you say you’d like a boyfriend countless times. Someone permanent to come home to.”
“But I tried.” Miserable, he set the mug down and returned to the table, righting his chair before sitting with his chin in his hands.
“I’ve been on too many first dates to count.
I’m hopeless. I get so nervous, I can’t figure out what to say.
The guys never call back, and if I try to contact them, they ignore me. ”
I moved closer, noting the slight widening of his eyes. Theo’s dating history was worse than I’d imagined, and I’d have to tread carefully. I didn’t want to hurt him. I genuinely liked the guy.
“They’re fools,” I declared, but my words didn’t have the effect I’d hoped.
“If you’re not planning on lecturing me on my stupidity last night, why are you here?” he asked me, tipping his chin up to finally meet my gaze with a directness I found intense and out of character.
Theo had always presented as meek and content to stay in the background. His responses to my attempts at conversation were to blush and stammer, which, to be fair, he did with most people. Maybe he wasn’t attracted to me, which might make my mission harder to accomplish.
I needed to take it slow—a drink, a nice dinner to ease the awkwardness of the situation.
“Would you like to have dinner with me next Wednesday? I know Sweeny’s is closed. We could go to The Cutting Edge.”
Theo paled, turned bright red, and his brows winged high.
“Ohhh. Wait a minute, I get it. You think that because I was willing to have sex with a stranger, that means I’m easy.” His eyes grew shiny but blazed green with anger at the same time. “Well, I’m not interested. And I’d like it if you’d leave now. I’m tired, and I want to go to bed. Alone.”
Damn. Who knew Theo Sweeny was so hot when he got riled up?
Not the time or the place, Jax.
“Come on, you know that’s not it,” I protested, but Theo remained unmoved.
His head high, he walked past me to the door and stood there waiting.
“Good night, Mr. Polaris.”
I’d fumbled badly and had argued in front of enough juries to understand a losing case. I buttoned up my coat and wound my scarf around my neck.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, and I hope we can talk soon.”
Without answering, Theo opened the door and stepped behind it, facing away from me, and shut it immediately after I walked out.
Head down, I walked across the street, picked up my car in Sweeny’s lot, and drove home. Sitting on the couch in my sweat pants, I clicked on the television but didn’t pay attention to the flickering screen. I was too busy thinking about Theo Sweeny.
I’d made a mistake thinking Theo might be a pushover. Tonight he’d proved he had a backbone, which only meant I didn’t have a clue as to what made Theo Sweeny tick.
I contemplated my next steps. I could abandon the plan I’d worked out earlier in the day and find someone else, or try again, but this time I had to make sure Theo would listen to me.
How I’d manage that, I wasn’t sure.
**
After my lunch with Judge McCourt, I should’ve been concentrating on the cases that were piling up.
Instead, I imagined what I could accomplish on the bench.
It would be the culmination of a dream—a secret wish I’d tucked away and shared with no one because I’d been told that, as a gay man, I’d have to hide who I was to get ahead in my career.
I’d grown up behind the eight ball. My grandmother had raised me from the age of six after my mother split with one of her motorcycle boyfriends.
The only memory I had of her was the smell of cigarettes and beer and her snarling voice telling me to shut up and be quiet as she snuck men into the room she and I shared.
I’d tried to put my pillow over my head to muffle the sounds they made, but it never worked.
Granny had been religious and a harsh taskmaster—she’d expected absolute obedience and no backtalk.
If I’d disobeyed, I’d get a whipping. I’d known education would be key, so where other guys would spend time on the football field or the baseball diamond, I’d bury myself in the library.
Learning. Always learning. School would be my ticket out.
The day I turned sixteen, we had a visit from some state troopers who informed us that my mother had died when her boyfriend crashed his motorcycle during a pursuit on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
They’d robbed a bunch of liquor stores, and I later found out they’d been a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde, making their way around the tristate area, robbing gas stations and restaurants.
Her death had left little impact on my life, except to further cement my desire to get away from it all.
I’d hidden my sexuality, only coming out after I left for college.
Free to be sexually open, I’d gone a little wild and had lost count of my partners after sophomore year.
My grades began to slip and I had a moment of clarity.
With Granny dead and zero family left, I needed whatever scholarship I could manage to continue my dream.
I curbed my libido and received a full ride to law school.
I worked my ass off, catching the eye of Professor Lawrence Gunther, a giant in the legal field and the author of the seminal thesis on criminal law.
In my third year, I was finally able to register for his Theories of Punishment in Criminal Law class and scored an A on the midterm.
When he left me a message to come see him at his office, I’d wondered what I’d done wrong. Shaking and a bit damp under my arms, I’d stood before him convinced he was about to tell me my grade was incorrect and I’d failed.
I remembered everything clearly.
In his late forties, Gunther was a commanding figure. His three-piece suits accentuated broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Pictures of his wife and two children—a young man and woman in their early twenties—sat on his credenza.
“Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Polaris?” He undid the button of his suit jacket, and the overhead light struck the gold of his wedding band.
“No, sir.”
“Every year, I choose my most promising student to work with me. If you agree, it’s an almost certain path to the district attorney’s office.” He cocked a brow, and his bright-blue eyes held mine. “Are you interested?”
My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. “Y-yes, sir. Of course. It would be an honor.”
Three afternoons a week, I sat with him and took notes he dictated for a new treatise he was writing.
By springtime, I’d stay late into the night—his wife had filed for divorce, he told me, and he filled up his time with the work we were doing.
The one night when he sat next to me on the couch and changed everything.
“Debra and I grew apart over the years, but the real reason, Jaxon, is that I’ve fallen deeply in love with you. I’ve never felt like this about any other man, and I’ve been struggling with this for months. Please,” he whispered. “May I?”
I nodded, he brushed his lips against mine, then covered my mouth with his. Starved for affection and amazed that a man like Lawrence Gunther would want me, I melted into his arms.