Authors: Cassandra Gold
No time to go back to the room and change, though, because Elaine from the airport spotted him. She smiled and strode in his direction. Stifling a resigned sigh, he met her halfway. "Hello."
"I'm glad you decided to come down. Let's get you a name tag." She took his arm and towed him to a small table in the corner.
At the table, a tiny young woman peered up at him. "What's your name?"
"Quinn Delaney." He hunched his shoulders to keep from looming over the girl, a tough feat at his size.
The young woman found a name tag with a red border and handed it to him. "Here you go, sir. You'll be eating in Room Two. Enjoy!"
Elaine beamed and waved him toward the crowded room. "Dinner will be starting in a couple of minutes. Anyone with a red border on their name tag is in your possibility group. There are twenty of you."
Possibility group. God.
Why had Stephanie thought he'd enjoy this? Quinn dredged up a quick smile for the two women and made his way to the wall. He leaned against the bland beige surface and looked around the room with new interest. Scattered among what had to be at least a hundred people were nineteen other gay men. He spotted a lot of men and women wearing blue name tags, and some women who had yellow ones. The smirky guy, Damien, from the shuttle stood in the opposite corner of the room, holding court in the center of a group of men wearing red name tags.
To his disappointment, Quinn didn't see the one face he'd been hoping to see--the attractive man from the plane and the shuttle. Of course there wasn't much point in getting his hopes up. Given his luck, the man would be either straight or not interested.
"Attention everyone!" Elaine clapped her hands and the room slowly quieted. "Dinner is about to begin."
People began to make their way to their assigned dinner rooms, and the noise level went right back up. Quinn held back, staying at the wall until most of the other people had left. Trying not to succumb to nerves, he took a deep breath and followed the crowd.
He reached Room Two just in time to hear one of the tour's organizer speaking. "Before you eat, I'd like you to introduce yourselves. Give your name and occupation, and anything else you'd like." The older man glanced around the room. His gaze landed on Quinn. "Why don't you start for us?"
Certain he looked like a deer in the headlights, or perhaps one that had already been hit by a car, Quinn choked out, "Quinn Delaney. Thirty-six. Engineer." His face felt like he'd been standing by a blast furnace, just from the attention of twenty people for a few seconds. He was never going to survive this week.
The man nearest to him, a short, stocky redhead with a goatee, spoke next, taking the attention away from Quinn. "I'm Art Jackson. I'm forty years old, and I own a restaurant."
After that, the introductions flew fast and furious. Quinn breathed a sigh of relief at having his over with and tried to listen to the others. All of the men were between thirty and forty-five and held a wide array of jobs. It was reassuring to see that while some of them were very attractive, others were more average. None of them came close to matching his height, something he had resigned himself to long ago.
"I guess I'm last."
The familiar voice jerked Quinn out of his thoughts. He looked up to see the brunet from the plane and the shuttle, dressed in dark boot cut jeans and a simple white long-sleeved dress shirt. Staring at him now, Quinn could see that he hadn't exaggerated the man's appeal in his mind. The man stood about six feet tall and had a nice build, muscled in a sleek way rather than bulky like himself.
"I'm Josh Hart. I'm thirty-one, and I'm a pediatrician." Josh grinned and added, "And I'm starving. Can we eat?"
Everyone laughed. The travel company employee reminded them of breakfast at nine in the morning and directed them to the buffet line. Quinn took his time getting there. He picked up a plate and selected a few things that looked good, hoping his appetite would return when his nerves let up a bit.
He dawdled so long he had to take the last seat at one of the two large tables. Josh was at the other table, as was Damien. Their table laughed and talked like old friends. The table Quinn joined had a more subdued atmosphere, for which he was grateful. He pushed his food around and listened to the talk around him, trying to get up the courage to make eye contact with someone, or contribute to the conversation.
He could almost hear his father yelling, "Speak up! Be a man. What the hell is wrong with you?" Of course an abusive drunk who had died young wasn't the best person to take advice from. None of his father's "lessons" had ever taken, anyway. No amount of yelling or beating had knocked the shyness out of him.
Laughter from the other table caught Quinn's attention, and he raised his eyes to find Josh saying something that must have been funny, gesturing with his long, slim hands as he spoke. From the rapt attention and amusement on the faces of the other men at his table, it was obvious Josh had them all in the palm of his hand. But who wouldn't be enthralled? The man was gorgeous and funny, and he seemed kind as well, judging from the way he'd diverted the women's attention from Quinn in the shuttle earlier. Or maybe he'd done that for his own reasons and not to help Quinn at all.
Quinn sighed and lowered his gaze back to his plate. There was no point in even looking. He wasn't going to talk to the man. If he tried he would turn into a shy, bumbling idiot and make a fool out of himself. Even at his age, he still froze up every time he tried to talk to a man he found attractive. Flashbacks of being taunted or ignored in high school and of being too scared to try in college paralyzed him. Afterward, when the moment passed, he always ended up berating himself for missing an opportunity yet again.
Dessert arrived. After the plates of chocolate cake were delivered, the travel agency employee announced, "Anyone who got a black plate needs to get up and switch tables."
A quick glance at his plate revealed he would have to switch. Quinn stood and carried his dessert to the other table. He sat beside a small man with dyed black hair and the tightest shirt he'd ever seen.
The man grinned at him and tossed his long bangs out of his face. "You're a big one, aren't you? I like that. I'm Clay, in case you forgot." He pointed to his name tag as if trying to draw attention to his chest. Then he held out his hand to shake, eyeing Quinn up and down avidly.
"Quinn." Quinn had no choice but to take the offered hand. He shook and tried to let go, but Clay wouldn't let him. For such a little thing, he had quite a grip, and Quinn didn't want to hurt him.
He managed to extract his hand after a long moment. Heat crept into his cheeks. He'd never been comfortable with being stared at, and Clay was definitely staring.
The smaller man leaned closer to him. "Do you have plans for tonight?"
Not jerking back took up most of his concentration. He muttered, "Um, no."
Clay's voice lowered to a near-purr. He ran his hand up Quinn's bicep. "Good. Want to come up to my room, tie me up, and spank me 'til I come?"
The other men at the table stopped their conversations and turned to stare at Clay and Quinn. Quinn's mouth dropped open. At first, he was certain he couldn't have heard what he thought he'd heard. Tie up a total stranger and spank him? Not likely.
Did Clay think because Quinn was large he liked to hurt people? He got that reaction a lot, and hated it. He didn't want to hurt people, or have meaningless sex with someone who only wanted him because he was big. Maybe Clay hadn't been serious with the invitation and intended it to mock Quinn somehow. Either way, the end result was the same. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for his reaction, and he hated it.
One of the other men laughed. "I think you scared him, Clay."
Clay laughed, too, tossing his head again. "Not a big, strong thing like him." He turned back to Quinn, a sultry expression on his face. "What do you say?"
His voice, when he finally got it to work, was hardly more than a whisper. "N-no. I'm sorry." He stood and got the hell out of there.
The laughter of his tablemates followed him from the room.
Why couldn't I have made a joke? Or done anything but run like a scared kid?
Quinn flopped onto the bed and put an arm over his face. Any other guy would have put Clay off with a joke or witty comeback, said no without getting upset, or even taken him up on the offer. Quinn had panicked and acted like an idiot.
He had to toughen up and start talking to people, or this whole trip would end up a colossal waste of time. It was time he remembered that he wasn't a scared little kid being taunted by his father for being weak, or a shy, rapidly growing adolescent trying to fit into a succession of foster families and new schools. He was an adult. He couldn't let his shyness and other peoples' misconceptions keep him from trying.
Tomorrow they were headed to the Magic Kingdom. Maybe there he'd meet someone a little more his speed.
By the time he stepped off the shuttle at the Magic Kingdom Park, Josh Hart was a lot more excited than any man over thirty had a right to be. For years, he'd wanted to visit Disney World. After putting it off for way too long, he wasn't about to let anything stop him this time, not even getting dumped a few weeks before the trip. Over the answering machine. He hadn't even rated a "Dear John" letter. He was never going to live that one down.
At least he didn't have to go by himself, thanks to his travel agent, a helpful young woman named Stephanie. Fortunately, she'd been able to find a large singles group scheduled for the same week as Josh had planned to go with his ex. By the time she got finished rearranging his reservations, Josh was signed on for the singles trip, booked in a much nicer hotel than he had been before, and had gotten several hundred dollars back. Not a bad deal. He couldn't believe how lucky it was that somebody, and a gay somebody at that, had canceled so close to the departure date. If a straight guy had canceled he would have been out of luck.
At first he'd been a little hesitant about the whole singles thing, but the travel agent had promised him that while it wasn't an all-gay trip, there would be other gay men there. She'd also told him that any guy who would dump him before a trip he was paying for wasn't worth moping over, which made him laugh. She was right. His ex wasn't worth another second of his time.
So far, everything about the trip had been great. He'd met some interesting people at the dinner last night, and today promised to be even better.
Clay, who'd sat beside him on the shuttle bus, had been astonished to learn Josh had never been to a theme park. He'd waxed poetic about how much fun they were for kids, but cautioned Josh that he might not like them as much now. Josh shook off the caution, determined to enjoy the day.
Elaine herded the twenty men together like a mama duck with her ducklings. She handed out tickets and name tags, and told them they'd be paired off for the first few rides so they could get a chance to talk to as many people as possible. After lunch, they'd be free to roam around on their own.
The trip through the gate was efficient, thanks to Elaine's direction. They entered the park, and Josh gaped. Looking around at the quaint buildings in front of him, he felt as if he'd stepped back in time. Straight ahead was the iconic castle, giving him an even greater sense of unreality. He kept walking along with the rest of the group, but the scents of chocolate and baked goods and the sound of music playing over unseen loudspeakers distracted him.
Their first stop was a huge tree house. Elaine broke them up into pairs and shooed them to the entrance. Josh's partner, a guy named Doug, immediately started complaining about how lame it was.
After the third or fourth complaint, Josh had had enough. "Then go find the exit. I think this is pretty cool."
Doug stomped off, muttering to himself. Josh shrugged and went back to exploring. He ran into Damien, who'd been paired with Art the restaurant guy. Damien rolled his eyes toward Josh in an obvious "I'm not having fun" gesture, but Josh ignored him. No way did he want to get stuck with a high-maintenance drama queen. The brief time they'd spent together showed him Damien was a little too much like his ex, which was the last thing he needed right now. He made his way through the winding stairways and across bridges until he reached the exit.
For the next ride, a jungle riverboat cruise, Josh ended up paired with a blond, bespectacled accountant named Steve. Sparks didn't fly, but from the instant they started talking, Josh liked the older man. His sense of humor wasn't snarky or cruel like a couple of the other guys Josh had met, and he didn't make fun of the cheesy animatronics or Josh's enthrallment with them. That alone made Josh decide Steve was a friend.
When the boat was about to dock, Steve leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin. "I got to talk to Art last night at dinner, and I really liked him. I'm trying to get up the nerve to see if he wants to hang out after lunch."
Josh grinned and clapped Steve on the back. "Leave it to me, buddy."
"Don't talk to him, I'll be so embarrassed." Steve blushed. "God, I feel like I'm in high school again."
"I'm not going to embarrass you, but I'll figure something out."
Steve opened his mouth to reply, but closed it when Damien sauntered over and threw his arm around Josh's shoulders. "Looks like I'm your partner for the next ride."
Exercising supreme restraint, Josh managed not to shrug off Damien's arm. He gave him a weak smile. "Let's go, then."
The ride in question was a pirate ride. Apparently, it was a popular attraction, because they had to wait in line for a while. Damien's obvious double entendres and his habit of standing too close had Josh on edge before they reached the boats.
About two seconds after the ride started, Damien leaned closer to Josh. "Got plans for after lunch?"
"Sort of," Josh hedged. It wasn't really a lie. He did want to help hook Steve up with Art. He glanced around, desperate for a diversion. A hologram of one of the bad guys from that Johnny Depp pirate movie appeared, making dire pronouncements. He grinned. This had to be the cheesiest thing he'd ever seen in his life. He loved it.