Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (145 page)

shaven face with a strong jaw, amber eyes, and neatly trimmed hair

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with three shades of brown teasing Nick to mess it up by tangling his

fingers in those locks to pull the man into a rough, heated kiss.

“This is my brother, Nick.” She squeezed Nick’s arm, breaking

him out of his stare. “Nick,” she paused and glanced up at him. “This

is Tad.”

“Tad?”

Tad offered his hand. “Nice to meet you.” His gaze was direct,

curious, and hungry. Nick took his hand and the shake was warm and

strong. He wanted to know those hands on his body more than he

wanted supper, but he managed to control himself if only to prevent

giving Maggie any ammo to tease him with later.

****

“Nice to meet you too,” Nick said. Tad caught the way Nick’s

dark eyes drifted down his body. He suspected, by the look the man

gave him, he’d been too eager in his questions to Maggie about her

brother. Or maybe, just enough.

“Shall we?” He pulled his hand away and waved it toward the

table. Nick dove into the booth and slide in. Tad eyed the bench

beside the man, but sat in the booth that had been empty when the

hostess led him to the table. When he sat, Maggie looked momentarily

disappointed, and that was his intent. If she’d guessed his interest in

her brother, then he’d said too much. Later, he would tempt Nick

away from her, so he could let the man know just how uncomfortable

his pants had become with no more than a handshake and a smile. The

thought brought his own smile back to his face, and he still wore the

same happy grin when a waitress with a thick Jamaican accent

stopped by the table to take their drink orders.

“Share a bottle of wine?” Tad offered.

“Sure,” Maggie said.

Nick shrugged. “You choose.”

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Once they ordered, Maggie turned to face her brother and said,

“So, Nicky, Tad here is vacationing alone.”

Nick tried to keep a straight face. Between wanting to roll his eyes

at her blunt match-making campaign and sheer embarrassment at

whatever she’d already done outside of his earshot, he would rather sit

with a bickering couple having the worst trip of their lives. On the

other hand, if she called him Nicky again, he’d have reason to kick

her under the table.

“I wonder if they have another single to sit with us,” she mused.

Desperate to change the subject, or at least wrestle control away

from Maggie, Nick looked up and met Tad’s stare. He couldn’t tell if

the man was truly interested as that jolt of desire in their handshake

had indicated, or if he was merely amused by Maggie’s bubbly cheer

and optimism.

“Where are you from, Tad?” Nick asked.

“New Hampshire.”

“No way!” Maggie clapped her hands together. “So are we.”

The wine steward arrived with Tad’s selection. Nick took the

moment of distraction to study Tad as the steward offered him a view

of the label, and then opened the bottle.

Nick couldn’t resist Molly’s enthusiasm at learning Tad lived near

them. He relaxed as his gaze roamed the alluring planes of Tad’s face.

He wanted to see more: the broad shoulders promising hard muscle

and sleek flesh, the strong legs and round ass set off by what had to be

custom tailored pants, and between those—

Maggie slugged him, breaking him out of his fantasy, and tearing

his gaze away from Tad. “What?” He gave her a wide-eyed

expression of exasperation, but she wasn’t buying it.

“You were zoning out.”

“Says who?”

“Me. And I don’t want to know what you were thinking.”

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“I was thinking how weird it is to be seated with the one person on

the whole ship that lives in the same state.”

“Riiiiiight.” She rolled her eyes. “What do you want for dinner?”

Distracted by Tad, Nick had forgotten their purpose for sitting in

the dinning room. He hadn’t registered the wine steward leaving and

the waitress arriving. He cursed mentally; he hadn’t had it this bad for

a guy since his first days fumbling with cute boys behind the high

school. He glanced down the menu, suddenly grateful there were only

a couple of choices each for appetizers, salads, soups, and entrees. He

rattled off his spur-of-the-moment selections, and then handed the

menu to the waitress.

Nick glanced at Tad who wore an amused smirk. “Where in New

Hampshire?” Nick asked. He did his best not to stare at the man’s lips

as Tad raised his glass and sipped his wine before answering.

“Manchester.”

Nick’s smile returned. Maggie jumped in before he could speak.

She said, “That’s so close. I’m in Nashua.” She squeezed Nick’s arm

apparently forgetting she had just been mad enough to punch him.

“Nicky here has a business right in Merrimack. He’s the family artist.

Got all the creativity and left me barren and logical.”

“That is not the word I’d use,” Nick muttered a little too loudly.

He lifted his glass and sniffed the rich red wine. He knew nothing

about wine, but it smelled nice. He took a tentative sip. He barely

resisted humming with approval. Whatever Tad picked out had to be

much more expensive than the ten dollar bottles of Chianti he and

Maggie would share when they crashed in the living room for movie

night.

“What word?” Maggie asked. “Barren?”

“Logical.”
In for a penny
, he thought.

Tad’s laughter was worth the second – harder – punch in the

shoulder. Maggie looked small and delicate, but she knew how to put

power behind her fist. Nick rubbed his shoulder and mock glared at

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her, but Tad’s mirth beat away his sister’s feisty need for physical

retribution.

“So, Tad?” Nick could feel his body relaxing. Muscles released

tension fiber by fiber and the smile inspired by a sexy dinner

companion, remained of its own accord. “What do you do in

Manchester?”

“Not much,” he said. “I work in Concord, live in Manchester, and

play anywhere else.”

“What kind of play?” Maggie recovered too quickly for Nick’s

tastes.

Tad laughed her off with a gentle chuckle. “Tell me about your

art,” he said, his stare fixed on Nick again, and Maggie all but

nonexistent.

Nick looked away, shy under the scrutiny of his life instead of his

body. “A little painting, a little sculpting.”

“His own business,” Maggie added.

“Oh? Tell me more.” Tad glanced to Maggie, but his gaze drifted

back to Nick. “An art business… gallery perhaps?”

“A school.” Maggie said it with the same pride she’d use if she

started and ran the business herself.

“Not exactly. We offer classes, but it’s not an official college or

anything. Just a place for hobbyists to learn and practice.”

Tad snorted, and Nick frowned at the derision in his expression.

“Just is a dirty word. There’s no just about it. You own your own

business doing something you’re passionate about.” He cocked his

chin lower and fixed Nick with a questioning look. “I assume you’re

passionate about it since you started a business around it.”

Nick nodded, and then forced a light laugh. “Yeah, you could say

that. My partner had to practically throw me out to get me to go on

this trip.”

“Partner?”

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Nick blinked, the one word question had been asked with more

contempt than the mini-lecture over the word “just”. “Yeah, my

business partner: Jason. He’s the organized numbers guy and I create

the fun to get the customers to show up.”

Tad relaxed and smiled. He lifted his wine glass and gave Nick a

nod. “Congratulations. It’s a dream few chase.”

They chatted with easy comfort through appetizers and dinner,

and another bottle of wine which Maggie insisted on buying, but

refused to pick out. Tad talked about his job as a public defender for

Hillsboro County but when Maggie tried to corner him on his personal

life, much to her dismay, he artfully changed the subject from former

lovers to art classes, and Nick. When the waitress arrived with the

dessert platter, Maggie’s eyes went wide, but she politely demurred,

explaining she had a full week to make herself fat.

Nick narrowed his eyes at her, suspecting her ulterior motives. He

wanted to both thank her and tell her not to go when, as soon as the

waitress left to get the men their coffee and desserts, she stood to

leave.

“Stay, Mags, have some coffee,” Nick said.

“It’s been a long day. I never took that nap I wanted when we set

sail.”

“There are no sails on this ship.” Nick winked at her. If he

suspected she wanted to stay he’d have pushed harder, but they both

knew what she was up to and, Nick suspected, Tad probably did too.

She leaned into the booth to kiss Nick’s cheek. As she stood, she

said, “I need a head start so I can fall asleep before you start snoring.”

“I don’t snore,” he quipped.

“You’ve never had to hear it.”

“Exactly. I’ve never heard it. I think you’re fibbing.”

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She rolled her eyes and then turned to Tad. “Nice to meet you. If I

don’t see you before, I’m sure we’ll chat again over supper

tomorrow.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Tad said with a polite nod and a

friendly smile.

Once she left and Tad faced Nick again, Nick felt a loss of words.

He was positive Tad was interested in him for more than the dinner

talk, but he couldn’t think of a smooth way to broach the subject. He

licked his lips, and Tad’s gaze followed. Definitely interested, but

they hadn’t flirted much all night. They’d exchanged looks, or a brush

of fingers when sharing fried appetizers. Plus warmth that flooded his

body every time their eyes met. Nick wondered if Tad preferred to be

pursued, playing a subtle game of hard to get. Hard being the key

word.

“So why did you come on this cruise?” Nick kicked himself for

chickening out on being blunt. When he jumped right to the point, he

preferred to do it with a friendly grope, or a tongue-tangling kiss.

“You mean, why am I here alone?”

Nick shrugged and scanned the room. Several tables near them

had already cleared out. Not quite privacy, but less chance of someone

getting offended and obnoxious if he flirted with Tad.

“I mean,” Nick said. “I got dragged onto this boat by my sister,

but you came of your own free will. I’m curious why. Why not a

cabin in the mountains? Or…” He shrugged and offered a short,

barked laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have thought of a cruise first.

And, yeah, okay, I’m curious what a good-looking guy is doing

vacationing without a partner.” There, bait. Partner, not wife, or

girlfriend. Tad held his breath waiting for the answer.

“What would you choose?”

Nick blinked, stunned by the question.

“See? It’s not so easy, is it?”

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“No, actually, I’d go to the mountains,” Nick said. “I was trying to

figure out if you avoid questions by answering them with more

questions or if it’s unintentional.”

Tad stared until Nick second guessed his words, wishing he could

take them back.

“I’ve never been to the Caribbean,” Tad said. “I heard it was

beautiful. So far, I’m not disappointed.” His voice dropped lower with

the last sentence, the rich tone wrapping around Nick’s spine.

Anticipation shivered through his body.

Coffee and desserts arrived. Both men dug into slices of

cheesecake heaped with fresh strawberries and hand-whipped cream.

Once they’d finished and moved on to sipping coffee, Nick pushed his

plate aside and said, “I still prefer the mountains, but since Maggie

had already paid for the tickets, she wouldn’t let me say no.”