CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
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HARRIED, EXTREMELY LATE, and willing to bite his own leg off to get away was how Raj stumbled onto the mayor. More specifically, he caught Raj fishing under his car for the keys he stupidly dropped while his phone blew up.
“Good morning, my boy,” the mayor called. Then he hunched down beside Raj, who was nearly face-planted on the cement.
How in the hell did those things bounce so deep under his car?
“Problems?” the mayor asked.
Ah ha! He caught his keychain and yanked the infernal things out. Nearly spinning it on his finger, Raj looked to the man, then smiled. “Nope. All good. Nice to see you.” He reached to unlock his door when the mayor stepped in closer.
“What brings you to this part of town?”
“Oh, you know.” Raj peered back at the little blue townhouse with the white trim. “I’m here to do Adam.”
“Huh?”
Raj’s eyebrows shot up at his tongue ramping over his brain. “Errands. I’m taking care of a few errands, but I’ve got to get back to the hotel. Right now.” He gave a quick wave, then pried open his door and sat inside.
That should have been the end of it, but the mayor knocked on his side window. Gunning it seemed the easiest solution, but running over the mayor’s foot would not endear him to the city. And he couldn’t afford to spend Halloween in jail. Rolling down the window, Raj looked at the mayor.
“It’s fortunate I ran into you like this.”
Late for my job after a night of hot sex?
“Every year, Anoka hosts a masquerade ball…”
“Oh yeah, I heard about that,” Raj interrupted.
“Did a local beauty invite you?” The mayor snickered, his brows bouncing in case Raj didn’t get that he meant a comely lass.
Over the quiet air of a suburban neighborhood in late morning came the slam of a front door.
Raj peered through his rearview mirror to catch a familiar peacock coat.
He shifted in his seat, watching as Adam locked his door then walked down the path.
At his mailbox, he paused, glancing down both streets.
Damn. The streams of sunlight turned his mahogany hair into a rich auburn. An autumn breeze tickled the ends and tugged out his scarf. Adam shivered and pushed it back into his coat. Seemingly happy with whatever he was looking at, he took off the other way, becoming a dot in the distance.
“Yes, very handsome.”
“How quaint,” the mayor said. “Well, we have a bit of a problem. See, we always host it in the VFW gym. Lots of room, great price. Everyone has a blast. But dang it if they didn’t have a fire there.
The whole place is out of commission thanks to smoke damage.
We’ve been scrambling to find a new place to host it for days. ”
Oh no. Raj swiveled his gaze away from Adam’s retreating form to the mayor.
“And here I remembered this kind, new young man in town, who’d be more than happy to loan us the use of his ballroom.”
“You want…”
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Most of the setup will be handled by us, of course. Decorations, food, security, entertainment.”
Raj bobbed his head to all of those until he jerked. “Security?”
“Children who think it’s hilarious to dress as Stitches and pull fire alarms, drop cherry bombs into toilets…drive a tractor through the front door.”
“What?”
“That’s why we have security. They do an excellent job of keeping the mischief to a minimum. Naught. It’s nothing. So, what do you say?”
No. Halloween was in a week. They reserved the ballroom for a fancy dinner for the guests. Or were supposed to, but Raj forgot to contact any caterers, and now it was looking more like cheese and crackers.
“I’m sorry, but…” Raj reached into his pocket as if he’d find an excuse there. To his confusion, what fell out was the invoice from the fire marshal. Didn’t Logan take this?
The number, an arbitrary amount that really equaled a bribe, taunted him. Play ball. Give in to their demands. Well, two could play at that game.
“We’re having a bit of trouble with the fire marshal.” Raj put on his biggest smile. “Despite passing all our tests, he’s demanding we pay for more.”
The mayor sighed. “That sounds like Roger. He thinks he’s stopping the heathens from taking over this city. If I see what I can do to get him to back off, will the ballroom be open?”
Raj folded the invoice in half. “Yes,” he said, tearing it down the middle, then once again. “We have a deal.”
“Wonderful.”
Raj started his car, and the mayor had enough sense to step back to the other side of the street. “I’ll get Marianne to call you and set everything up. Can’t wait to see you at the ball. And don’t forget.”
Just as Raj started to pull out, he looked over as the mayor formed two Vs over his eyes with his fingers, then drew them apart. “It’s a masquerade.”
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Casual.
He wants to keep things casual.
I can do casual. Sunday brunch on his ass. A quick matinee and hand job on Saturday. Bumping into each other in the grocery store on Thursday before bumping my cock down his throat in the parking lot.
Simple. Easy.
None of those feelings getting in the way of just sex. Good, hard, so damn incredible, I feel like I could die in his arms, sex.
“Adam?”
So what if I like the way he fits in my arms and my pants?
That’s not casual. That’s what people in relationships do.
They stay at each other’s houses, see each other’s houses.
Even learn their boyfriend’s damn address.
Bring over a toothbrush, get a drawer. Have their favorite creamer in his fridge.
But it’s not easy. Or casual.
“Dear?” His mother leaned over, jerking him from staring a hole through the remaining cranberry scone. “Ethel asked if you wanted the last one?”
He jerked, rattling the cold cup of tea in his hand. “No. Please. Be my guest.”
The way she snatched that scone like a cobra going after a baby rabbit told him he’d have lost even if he had wanted it. Adam tried to sit back and find a comfortable view of the tea house. He didn’t join his mother often, but today he hadn’t wanted to spend his lunch hour alone.
Or worse, with the damn pumpkin head.
“Aren’t you supposed to be hosting some gourd ceremony?” Ethel asked.
“The pumpkin carving contest,” Joyce said.
“No, I believe it’s the pumpkin chucking,” his mother said.
“That’s a waste of perfectly good produce if you ask me. And it invites squirrels. Nasty things.”
The local birders’ society collapsed into a black hole circling enemy number one—squirrels.
Adam didn’t have much of an opinion, but he nodded to every tree rat comment to keep the peace.
Maybe he should wash his sheets once he got home.
A casual hookup wouldn’t want to smell the man all over him as he slept.
To bake in whatever heat remained trapped between those blankets and pretend for a minute that he was still there in his arms.
Casual. I can do casual.
When the society started in on kids and their ticking tocks, Adam had to excuse himself. “Sorry, ladies, but I need to return to my store.” The devil only knew what Chrissy was up to without him. “If you will forgive me.” Adam gave a deep bow to each woman, then he took his leave.
“Wait, love.” His mother slapped down a twenty. With her purse in her lap, she hustled out of her chair after him. “Why don’t I accompany you on the way back?”
“All right.” Adam stuck out his arm, and his mother took it. “But they’re going to get jealous.”
“Oh?”
“Of me having Anoka’s prettiest girl on my arm.”
She blushed to her dyed hairline and slapped him with a limp, “Stop.”
It was easy to make his mother happy. They didn’t even have to try. She just seemed excited to be alive. Even in the dark days after their dad passed, she’d sit in her favorite chair and hum the song he’d play on his stupid harmonica. He was terrible at it, but no one had had the heart to tell him.
Adam couldn’t wrap his mind around parents only bestowing affection on whoever earned it instead of whoever was in the vicinity. To think of siblings as competition instead of the girl with the soul of a Victorian serial killer who kept stealing his Legos.
“Do you have errands to run downtown?” Adam asked.
“No,” his mother said.
“Are you meeting up with someone?”
“No.”
Okay, now he was confused. “Don’t tell me, you’re learning poker from a card shark so you can fleece Joyce for all she’s got?”
She giggled and shook her head. “Of course I’m not.”
“So why…?”
“It’s a nice day, and I wanted to walk with my son.”
Adam couldn’t find an argument against that, so he held his tongue and took in the lingering leaves dancing on the branches.
It was a beautiful day. The sky was as blue as it could be, with sunbeams striking at just the right angle to cast little rainbows down the sidewalk.
A handful of cars whizzed past, but most people were at the fun run.
He’d silenced his phone hours back so no one could reach him.
If they needed someone in a pumpkin costume to run behind people so bad, Marianna could handle it.
After Raj had left in a flurry, Adam stared at his calendar with new eyes.
He’d given damn near every last day to the committee.
Not just the events, or the hosting gigs in the pumpkin, but the meetings, the plannings, the buildings.
He made his whole life the Halloween king, because he didn’t have anything else to fill it.
And the one damn time he thought maybe that could change, he wanted to be casual.
“I’m casual, right, Mom?”
She peered over at him in his three-piece suit and perfectly folded pocket square. “No one’s more casual, dear. If anything, I think you could use a bit more formality. You don’t even wear a top hat or a monocle.”
He’d tried casual for years. He’d lived in hoodies, ratty jeans, tennis shoes.
Every knot and bent nail that made him Adam Stein was sanded away in the hopes that one guy would look at him and think “I can put up with that.” And for what?
Being who they wanted never worked, so why would being himself be any different?
“Your father used to walk me like this every afternoon.”
“He did?”
His mother smiled serenely to herself. “He would close the store and walk all the way to the diner. If my shift was running long, he’d order a slice of pie—blueberry—then escort me to the store.”
“Why?” It wasn’t like Anoka had roving gangs about to take out random women on the streets.
His mother patted his hand, then looked up at him. “Because he was so excited to see me, he couldn’t wait another two hours. The silly goose.”
Silly. His father had probably lost thousands of dollars in business over the years just because he’d wanted to talk to his wife. Most people would call that dumb, anti-American even. Everything for the all mighty dollar.
“Mom…?”
“I wanted to believe that love like that could exist for everyone. That it didn’t have to be all helicopter rides to Paris and champagne on top of a skyscraper.”
“You have rather expensive romantic tastes.” Adam laughed.
“Sometimes love is a man sitting in a diner eating blueberry pie.”
“That’s…very sweet, but why are you telling me?” They all knew about their dad’s infatuation with blueberries. His teeth were always a slight shade of purple.
“I thought you found your blueberry pie, but it seems like something’s wrong.”
Oh, fuck him, no. Adam was not having the hookup discussion with his mother. He would die happy if she believed he was a virgin, as there would never be any evidence to the contrary waddling around. “Ma, it’s…it’s fine. Okay. Love? We’ve only known each other for…”
Adam winced, realizing he just walked into her carefully laid trap. “Well played, mom.” She was the sweet, kindly old lady who gave out butterscotch discs—but could also tear a man to pieces and rebuild him in a single sentence. It was terrifying and awesome to watch.
“What happened?” She passed her handbag to her other side as if she’d suddenly need to reach for her bag of tissues.
“Nothing happened. Well, okay, a lot of…things happened. But it’s only been three dates. We’re keeping things casual. Easy.”
“Is that what you want?”
“What I want? What I want is…”
Adam’s entire body gave out with that confession. He collapsed onto a bench, his mother being the one to help him. She perched beside him, her purse to the side and at the ready.
Staring at his toes wedged inside of shoes that always pinched, Adam kept waiting for logic to take control.
It didn’t matter what his heart wanted; his brain knew the answer.
Sex without feelings—that was supposed to be easy.
Baked into the Y chromosome. Men didn’t care, men took.
Men didn’t cuddle, men fucked. Men didn’t love, men…
“I like him, Mom. Enough to get a slice of blueberry pie, but…”
“But what?”
“I don’t think he wants to walk me down the street.
” Damn it, why was he tearing up? This was stupid.
They weren’t in love. Most of the time that they’d known each other was spent in hate instead of like.
“Maybe it’d be best if I just let him go.
Isn’t that what they say to do with love?
Let it go and, if it’s worth having, it’ll come back? ”
“That is a load of horse hockey, excuse my French!”
“Mom!” Adam gasped at her nearly cursing.
“Love isn’t some paper butterfly you toss to the wind. It’s got battle scars, it’s withstood hurricanes. It’s the best and most terrifying thing in the world and worth fighting for every damn day.”
“He told me…”
“What he wants.” She rapped her knuckles on the bench between them like shots fired through love’s bullet-proof chest. “But you have to ask yourself, what does he need?”
“I don’t know.” He’d seemed so dead set on running the hotel on his own and for good reason. But even on the outside, Adam could see it was wearing on him. If he’d just accept a little help from a few hands, then…
“Yes, you do.”
Why didn’t I think of that? Adam shot up from the bench. He nearly took off down the street before turning back to his mom. “Are you okay here?”
“Of course, love. I’ve got these.” She pulled out her six-inch knitting needles that could pierce a man’s heart. “Where are you going?”
“To get a shit ton of blueberry pies!”