Chapter Three
Maybe he needed to blow off some steam, head to the Masters at Arms Club tomorrow night, and see if he could hook up with some twink in need of a Dom. While young gay men weren’t really his thing, they did seem to flock to him whenever he showed up in leathers. Apparently, there weren’t any other bear dominants frequenting the club, not that Franco wanted the Domme who ran the place, and liked to tend bar, to actively recruit more. When he went there to play, he liked having his choice of partners.
At her request, he texted Mistress Grant to let her know he planned to come in tomorrow night. Franco suspected she put out the word to the gay members whenever he texted her. Then again, she might want to be alerted because his brother-in-law, Marc D’Alessio, another of the dungeon’s cofounders, might be there playing with his sister. Talk about awkward. So far, they’d avoided that situation, probably because Marc and Angelina rarely came to Denver. Still, he’d asked Mistress Grant to alert him as to whether family members might be present. There’d been that Wednesday night last month—not a time he usually came to play at the club—where Grant had responded to his text saying that it wasn’t a good night for him to come in. He shrugged. Perhaps Marc and Angelina had been there that night.
The only other member he knew before joining was Victor Holmes, who’d actually been the one to tell him about the place. Franco had met Victor when the two former firefighters were going through fire investigation training. They’d been having dinner one night in the apartment where he lived with his girlfriend, Patti Varga, and she’d overheard Franco talking about joining a local dungeon. His desire to explore his dominant nature had been another reason he’d chosen to leave Leadville for the Mile High City.
While he’d been open with them about his interest in BDSM, it wasn’t until Franco had been accepted to join the Masters at Arms that he’d told Victor and Patti he was gay. Patti had given him a grin indicating she wasn’t surprised at all, and his coworker had shrugged, saying, “You’ll be popular there then.”
Finding a coworker who wasn’t threatened by his sexual preference had been an unexpected bonus. Franco had never hit on anyone he worked with—and never would—but some straight guys got weird for reasons that made no sense to him after finding out a male coworker was gay. In Leadville, fellow firefighter Logan had quietly harassed Franco on a number of occasions. All the more reason to move away.
Regulars at the most popular dungeon in the city, Victor and Patti had taken him under their wing. Franco now frequented the club often. Some weeks, he’d shown up every night the club was open. Other weeks, work obligations or important events like Matteo and Dakota’s wedding kept him away. There had been times when Franco had merely wanted to hang out at the club’s bar and get to know other members better or to shoot the shit with Grant. For the most part, however, he came to play in one of the private theme rooms. BDSM was a great way to release tension.
It’s also my safe place. In the club, I can be me—all facets of me.
And it was better than hanging out at gay bars as far as finding like-minded men. Having a place where he could let down his guard and be with other gay men without having to worry about what anyone else thought made all the difference.
Franco raked his fingers through his hair. It had been a long day—hell, a long week—and neither was over yet. His phone buzzed just as he merged into I-25 traffic. He waited until he pulled into the parking lot at work fifteen minutes later before glancing at the phone.
Of all the names he’d expected to see there, Rico’s wasn’t even remotely one of them. Missed call. Voicemail message. Franco’s heartbeat ratcheted up a notch. He wanted to talk with Rico, but in some ways, he didn’t.
Franco had no idea what Rico thought about their unexpected kiss. Neither did Franco. They’d been friends a long time, albeit seeing each other infrequently as adults, mainly because of Franco’s leaving Aspen Corners behind for the most part. But neither of them would want to lose that friendship if nothing came of them having a casual hookup now and then.
And it would have to be casual. Rico was too close to the Giardano family. Franco had let things get out of hand at the reception.
And yet he couldn’t keep himself from listening to the voicemail.
“Hey, man, I’ll be in Denver tomorrow night and wondered if you’d like to grab dinner and drinks with me? If you’re available.”
Rico leaving his pub on a Friday night was far from the norm. Were there other reasons for coming to Denver beyond having dinner with an old friend? Would he expect to stay over since he wasn’t arriving until the evening? Franco ran his hand through his hair, trying to decide what course of action to take. His answer could affect the future of their relationship. What if someone’s expectations weren’t met?
And would those crushed expectations be his or Rico’s if they weren’t on the same page?
Oh, what the hell?
As usual, he was overanalyzing things. An old friend wanted to have dinner. Never mind that Franco had kissed him passionately last weekend. This was just dinner and drinks. Nothing romantic.
Franco pressed Rico’s name on his recent calls to place the call.
“That was quick.”
“On a break from work.”
Are you sure you want to open this door?
Franco paused a few moments, then asked, “What time were you thinking about meeting for dinner tomorrow?”
“How’s seven? Later is fine too.”
“My days and nights aren’t always predictable, but barring an emergency call, I should be able to make it.”
So much for an evening at the Masters at Arms Club, although Franco had to admit he’d much rather be with Rico. Knowing the man’s love for Southeast Asian food, he suggested they meet at his favorite Thai place in his neighborhood. Rico was interrupted by someone at the pub, he supposed, and had to cut the conversation short before Franco could find out what his plans were beyond dinner.
He’d make sure the spare bedroom was ready, in case Rico wanted to spend the night. He didn’t want to presume Rico wanted to share his bed.
Not that he would deny the man if that’s what he did want.
As he drove into downtown Denver, Rico smiled at the thought of possibly spending the weekend with Franco. At least, he hoped Franco intended to invite him to stay, because he’d turned the pub over to his manager for the next two nights, just in case. As a contingency plan, he’d also asked his cousin if he could crash at her place if need be. He planned to stop in and see Michelle and her daughter, Gina, on Sunday, regardless, before heading home. If it turned out he’d be spending the whole weekend with the girls instead, so be it.
But he’d been waiting years for Franco to show some interest in him and wasn’t going to let the opportunity end with that brief kiss. He might have to take things slowly, but judging from that kiss, it wouldn’t take much for the spark to burst into flame.
After pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant, Rico zeroed in on Franco leaning against a post near the entrance. His heart beat a little faster as his gaze took in the sight. Franco wore a white button-up shirt and black slacks. Always so conservative—but still sexy as hell. Rico took the walk across the parking lot as a chance to regulate his breathing and libido.
“Hey, I hope you weren’t waiting long,” Rico commented as he approached.
“Only a couple of minutes. You’re right on time, as usual.”
Rico had always prided himself on being punctual, although he’d cut it a little close tonight. Luckily, most of the interstate traffic was headed west rather than in the direction he’d been driving.
“After you,” Franco said as he held the door, and Rico preceded him inside. “I already put in our names, so they should have a table for us any minute now.”
They were seated right away at a cozy table in a corner where they’d be able to talk without prying ears. Not that he intended to bring up anything risqué with Franco—not in public, anyway.
Dark circles under Franco’s eyes spoke of his not getting enough sleep. “You look tired.”
Franco shrugged. “It’s been a long week, but at least I didn’t get called for any new investigations since yesterday.”
“I’m glad about that too.” He didn’t realize how much he’d wanted this date. Or whatever it was.
Rico picked up his menu and quickly spotted his favorites. When the server came, he ordered a bowl of Tom Yum soup.
“I’ll have the same,” Franco added. “Also, could you bring us two glasses of water and a bottle of your best off-dry Riesling?”
Rico smiled. Like any self-respecting Italian, the man knew wine. Rico didn’t mind Franco presuming to know what he’d like to drink, because it hinted he was a take-charge kind of guy, which was a turn-on for Rico. “Good choice.”
When they were alone again, Franco asked, “What brings you to Denver on a busy Friday night?”
“Can’t a guy come for a visit with an old friend?”
Franco laughed. “Not a workaholic like you, no.”
Michelle’s recent diagnosis had made Rico realize nobody was promised tomorrow. Carpe diem, Cuzzo. As much as he loved his business, family and friends came first. He’d promised Michelle he’d be available to take care of her and Gina if at any time the chemo or radiation treatments got to be too much. There might be plenty of those days ahead for them.
“I’ve found a terrific manager I can trust. She can handle the business when I need to be away from Aspen Corners.” Should he say anything to Franco about Michelle? Not wanting tonight to be a downer, considering Franco didn’t know Rico’s cousin anyway, he decided not to.
Rico’s aunt and uncle had lived in Chicago, where Michelle had grown up. She’d decided to attend the University of Denver but rarely ventured out to “the sticks,” as she called where Rico lived in Aspen Corners. Whenever Rico had seen her as an adult, it had been in Denver or at family gatherings in Chicago. His uncle had passed years ago, but Aunt Sophia still lived there.
“Any intriguing arson cases lately, Franco?”
Franco shrugged. “I’d rather not talk shop, if you don’t mind.”
“Understandable. Why don’t you take the lead in our table talk?” Rico suggested.
Franco launched into updates on his family, although Rico already knew most of it. Hell, he lived closer to them than Franco did. But Franco’s deep voice sent a tremor through Rico, and he let it wash over him.
“Matteo and Dakota sure made a beautiful couple,” Franco said.
“He’s a lucky man. I like Dakota a lot.”
Just the segue I need.
Rico leaned closer. “Which brings us to talking about that kiss.”
Franco’s eyes turned smoky, and Rico grinned, knowing he’d hit the mark. “I’m not sure that’s a safe topic, either.”
Rico hoped not. He was tired of playing it safe with Franco. “Dakota sure played it cool after finding us in that torrid clinch.” He waggled his eyebrows to poke a little fun at the man who had haunted his dreams since freshman year in high school.
Franco glanced away and fiddled with his silverware. “I won’t know if there will be any fallout until they get back from their honeymoon, but as far as I know, she didn’t say anything to anyone before they left. She couldn’t have told Matteo, because he’d have said something to me about it via text at the very least.”
Rico sighed. Hell, same-sex marriage had just become legal in all fifty states. Times were changing. “What does it matter? Isn’t it time you let them know the real Franco?”
And while you’re at it, let me know too.
He hadn’t meant to turn this into a confrontation, and while Franco seemed interested in him, maybe he was bisexual. Lord knows women certainly liked being in his company, from what Rico had observed back when they both lived in Aspen Corners. Franco had taken a girl to his senior prom, more than likely because she’d asked him. But had he dated any girl more than once? Not that Rico had noticed, and he hadn’t seen him with a woman after high school before he’d moved away.
The server returned with their soup and took their orders for dinner. When they were alone again, Franco challenged, “I’ve never blatantly lied to my family. It’s not like I’ve shown up at family functions with a woman on my arm as a decoy or anything.”
“No, but what if they think you’re just shy with the opposite sex?”
Franco sat back in his chair. “I doubt my family would consider me shy.”
“And yet they must wonder why you’ve been keeping your distance from them all these years.” Angie had told him how she felt about Franco’s absence from their lives.
“I’ve just been busy. New home. New career.”
Did the unspoken list include a new love interest since he’d moved to Denver? Was he in a serious relationship? If he was, should he be kissing Rico the way he had at the ranch?
“I’m happy with my life the way it is now.”
If you say so.
But where did that leave Rico? Was he pushing too hard, too soon? This wasn’t what he’d come here for tonight. Still, he would like to know where he stood.
Rico decided it might be best to change the subject, however, rather than sit by and watch Franco retreat from him again. He leaned closer and whispered, “Our kiss told me in no uncertain terms what you’ve kept hidden from me all these years. Just between us, did I read that signal right?”
Franco met Rico’s gaze and narrowed his eyes. “You read it correctly.”
Man, it’s like pulling teeth with you.
Rico decided to come right out and ask the question that interested him the most, because he didn’t intend to be one among many. “Are you dating anyone seriously?”
“No, not any one specific person.”
What the hell did that mean? Did he prefer casual hookups, or was he simply dodging the question? The server brought them their entrees before they’d begun to touch the forgotten bowls of soup.
After he left their table, Franco picked up his fork, ignoring the soup altogether. “Rico, let’s eat before our food gets cold.” He took a big bite of his Pad Thai noodles, no doubt so that he wouldn’t have to continue the conversation.
“I need to say that I’ve had a crush on your since high school but wasn’t sure whether you were gay or not.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You suspected?”
Rico shrugged. “More like wishful thinking that you might be. But I was too young for you—then.”
“And now?” Franco asked with a grin.
“Age is just a number. I’ve dated men both older and younger than you.”
“Any preference?”
“I think I prefer older.”
When Franco leaned across the table. “Is three years older enough for you?” At least he wasn’t hiding from the conversation tonight.
Rico smiled. “Just about perfect.” Rico needed to connect with Franco in a physical way and stretched his hand across the table to stroke Franco’s left hand.
Before the conversation could move in the direction Rico wanted, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Normally, he’d ignore it, but he’d told Michelle to call him if she needed anything. He pulled it out and checked the screen.
Michelle.
“Sorry.” Rico removed his napkin from his lap and set it beside his plate. “Don’t let them take my plate, but I need to take this call. It’s my cousin. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
Outside the restaurant, he pressed the most recent call to dial Michelle back since she’d hung up before he’d answered, but she wasn’t the one on the other end of the line.
“Zio Rico, Mama’s been throwing up all day, and now she can’t hardly get out of bed.” The fear he heard in Gina’s sweet little voice broke his heart.
“Don’t worry, Sweetie. I’ll be there in a few minutes to take care of you both.” Too bad things hadn’t had a chance to progress with Franco tonight, but family came first.
Going back inside, he made his way to the table where Franco looked up at him. “Everything okay?”
Rico shook his head. “I hate to bail on you, but I have to run. Michelle’s pretty sick. They need me.”
“Is it serious?”
“She just had her first chemo treatment a few days ago.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry to hear that.” Franco stood and waved him away. “Go! I understand.”
Rico glanced down at the remaining food. “Too bad I didn’t get to enjoy this.”
“I can ask for a box so you can take it with you.”
Rico was tempted but remembered how much Michelle hated the smell of Asian food even when her stomach wasn’t queasy. “Thanks, but I’d better not.” He reached for his wallet to pull out some bills.
“Keep your money. You can get the next one.”
Would there be a next one? Rico wasn’t sure where he stood with Franco. They’d hardly had time to explore where this connection might go.
“Thanks, Franco.” He stared at him a long moment, wanting to say something more, but not sure what that might be. “I promise not to be a stranger. I have a feeling I’ll be in Denver a lot while Michelle fights this battle.”
“You can fill me in on what’s going on when I see you again, but I have a spare room, if you ever need a place to stay.”
Sounded like there might be a next time. Sweet.
Then Franco glanced down, as if he hadn’t intended to invite Rico over to sleep at his place. Rico smiled, and Franco met his gaze again after a few seconds and added, “You have my number too, if you ever just need to talk.”
Would Franco be a good listener? He might have to put Franco to the test sometime.
Unfortunately, Rico wasn’t sure how much time he’d be spending with Franco on these trips to Denver. He’d be with Michelle and Gina whenever they needed him.
But he’d keep the lines open between them. “Thanks, Franco. I appreciate that.” Rico went around the table and gave him a hug. Just a friendly one, but embracing Franco felt so right. He hoped he could get his friend to explore something more with him.
“Take care, Rico. I’ll send your cousin healing vibes for complete remission. I’ll even ask Mama to add her to her prayer list. She has a direct line to God, I think.”
“That she does. And I’d appreciate that. Michelle and her daughter can use all the prayers they can get.”
Her prognosis had sounded dire, even though Rico had a hard time believing she wouldn’t beat this thing.
Rico left the restaurant, still not sure what the future held for him and Franco, but he’d waited this long. He wasn’t ready to give up on the man yet.