The Intersection of Purgatory and Paradise (7 page)

All he wanted was to go home and fall into his bed with Doug beside him. But he didn’t have a home to speak of at the moment, and he wouldn’t for the next three months. “We can’t go to my place. Delgado rented it out for the entire summer. As a vacation rental, people will pay nearly my whole monthly mortgage in one week, and if it’s full, well…. One less thing to worry about.”

“So should we find a hotel or—”

“Hayes!” Maria Sanchez called when she wandered into the open warren of desks.

Christopher sprang up and hurried to give her a hug. “Hey, Maria! How’s the hubby?”

“Bored stiff since he got promoted. Are you back this time or just visiting?”

“Visiting, I think.”

“Bummer. We could use you, you know.” She pulled a small stuffed Angry Bird toy from her purse and carefully set it on Delgado’s keyboard. “That just magically appeared there, right?”

“I didn’t see a thing.” Christopher ignored the toy. “I might use it as a pillow, though. I need a nap.”

“Like you could get any sleep here,” she said. “It’s going to take Delgado all night to close this case, so you might as well go get some real rest. What hotel are you guys staying at?”

“He’s going to work late the night before he….” Doug’s voice died.

He met Christopher’s gaze. From the strained look on his face, Christopher wondered if he was trying to ask a dozen different questions telepathically.

“Do they know?” Doug asked. Before Christopher could say anything, he held up both his hands. “You know, I’m just going to stop before I put my foot in my mouth.”

Sanchez stared at him, smiling brightly. “Delgado’s love life has been department gossip for the last ten years. Believe me, everybody’s taking bets on whether or not he actually says ‘I do’ tomorrow. Kudos for discretion, though.”

Doug glanced up at Christopher. “And you liked working with this guy?”

“Yeah. He’s smarter than most people can imagine. He never screws up, at least without fully intending to screw up, and he’s thoughtful. Kind of. He acted gay and flaming at work to make it easier for me to be out. He deflected any shit I might have had to deal with.”

Ray returned with a drink tray and enough caffeine to keep Christopher grounded, sane, and functional, then disappeared down the hall to the interview rooms without a word. Doug held his coffee in both hands and watched him go, then stared at Christopher like he was missing something.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just not sure how it never occurred to you he probably wasn’t acting.”

B
ALBOA
P
ARK
was bigger than the entire town of Elkin. It was filled with dozens of small gardens, large museums, and even the San Diego Zoo. Tucked down behind a stone wall, where most people would expect to find nothing but a drainage system, was a sunken garden filled with flowers, fig trees with roots dangling over stone walls, and more butterflies than Christopher had ever seen. He’d toured it once on a school field trip when he was a kid, and he remembered the way every ten-year-old boy in his class had snickered when they read the plaque explaining the infamous Zoro Garden had originally been built as a nudist colony for San Diego’s version of the World’s Fair.

Christopher imagined his partner getting a kick out of the location, but it was expensive and in such high demand, he’d heard it had to be booked at least a year in advance.

“All right, I’ve got to know. How did you book the Zoro Garden if you just proposed a few weeks ago?” Christopher whispered.

Delgado shrugged. “Carmen,” he said, nodding at his sister.

She stood behind Christopher, looking gorgeous in a tight black dress with a white embroidered neckline. “A friend from work reserved it for her daughter’s wedding. The wedding got canceled, and she couldn’t get her deposit back. We paid her back the deposit and took the slot.”

“And the tuxedos?” Christopher fidgeted with his silky white bow tie.

She adjusted his tie with the same familiarity she’d used to fix her brother’s. “Fabulous, right? Ray told me his budget and asked me to plan him the most memorable fairy tale wedding possible.”

“I said the most fabulously awesome fairy tale wedding possible,” Ray agreed. “If we’re doing this, I wanted to do it right. Besides, Elliot’s an only child, and Aurora never figured she’d watch him get married. It’s got to be special.”

Christopher met Elliot’s gaze. He looked just as uncomfortable as Christopher was. “Carmen’s like a younger version of my mother,” Elliot explained. “We got them together, and it kind of….”

“Exploded?” Christopher suggested.

Elliot sighed. “It’s amazing how often the word ‘exploded’ comes up since I agreed to let Ray move in.”

Two sets of stone steps descended into the garden, which was designed to be totally hidden from the plaza above. Ray and Elliot stopped at the top of the steps, staring at each other. After a moment, Elliot’s stoic expression cracked, and he trembled, trying not to laugh. Ray didn’t even bother trying to hold back his laughter.

“Are you sure about this?” Ray asked, elbowing Elliot in the arm.

“I told you.” Elliot smiled softly. “I trust you.”

Ray’s eyes glazed over, and he leaned into Elliot’s taller frame. “See you at the bottom?”

Elliot winked at Ray and turned toward the other set of steps.

Ray stopped at the top of the stairs and took a deep breath. Somewhere below, someone cued classical music. Christopher nudged Ray down the steps. “I’m pretty sure part of my job is making sure you don’t chicken out.”

Ray glared back at him, and then he smiled.

“Go on.”

They walked down slowly, around a curving stone ramp and into the heart of the sunken garden. The audience sat in row after row of white chairs, and Christopher wasn’t surprised that he recognized almost everyone from work. None of Ray’s family was there, but he probably hadn’t invited them. A couple in the front row looked like an odd, eclectic mix whose DNA just might have combined to produce Elliot Belkamp. The woman was gorgeous, with a head of long black curls streaked with gray. She was smiling and crying, and she had her arm tucked around Doug’s elbow. Doug was smiling and chatting with her like they were old friends. A skinny man with auburn hair sat on her other side, and Elliot could have been a carbon copy of him, except he’d obviously gotten his hair and skin tone from his mother. The seat beside Elliot’s father was vacant except for a small photograph in a silver frame. Christopher wondered if it was a picture of a relative Elliot had lost, but when he caught a glimpse of the girl in the picture, he knew better. They’d brought a photo of Ray’s young cousin, Sophia.

Doug’s eyes were fixated on him as he trailed after Ray, with Carmen close behind him. Christopher paid enough attention to realize the ceremony really was simple and strangely agnostic for a wedding performed by a man with a Roman Catholic collar. But as much as he knew he should be paying attention, he could feel Doug’s gaze riveted on him. He let himself imagine, just for a moment, he had half the courage Ray did. What would it be like to stand up with Doug beside him and declare how he felt to the world?

The fantasy was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, and as much as he wanted to be able to hold Doug’s hand and kiss him outside of the confines of their refuge, the terror won. The thought of binding himself to Doug, entwining their lives together forever, wasn’t frightening. But binding himself to Doug meant binding his life to Elkin, to the ghost ranch Doug clung to between Elkin and the reservation. He’d be trapped. The idea cast him right back into the darkness he was so desperately trying to claw his way out of.

Christopher caught his cue from the priest and handed over the ring Carmen hastily passed him. Ray fumbled as he tried to slip a thin gold band onto Elliot’s finger. Elliot caught his hands and held them still, and somehow they managed to sort the rings out together. Ray didn’t quite wait for the final line before he wrapped his arms around Elliot’s neck and kissed him senseless.

T
HE
ROOFTOP
patio of the Hotel Palomar was lit up with candles and decorated with white flowers for the reception. Christopher was a little surprised by how formal everything was and how easily Elliot’s mom managed all of it with the relaxed ease of a matriarch overseeing a simple family dinner.

Christopher was glad he got to sit next to Doug at one large table with Carmen and Elliot’s parents. Even though it wasn’t the casual reception at home Ray had described, it was comfortable. The menu was filled with rich Italian food, and Christopher was shocked to see that everything except the prime rib was available in a vegan version.

“How can a dish that’s mostly ricotta be vegan?” Christopher asked, poking at a stuffed shell on Doug’s plate.

Doug smirked and scooped up half the shell. “Mine.”

“It’s my brother Gianni’s recipe,” Elliot’s mom explained from across the table. “Tofu, cashews, and spices. And some weird nut cheese he makes by fermenting wheat berries.”

“Fermented wheat berries?”

“It’s really, really good,” Doug mumbled. He scooped up a tiny bite and held the fork out toward him. “Try some.”

Christopher leaned forward and opened his mouth a little. Doug leaned into him, licking over Christopher’s lips. The mixture of tangy tomato sauce and creamy not-cheese surprised him. Mixed with the flavor of Doug’s mouth and a lingering trace of champagne, it was delicious.

Christopher smiled against Doug’s lips. “Good,” he agreed. “I’ll stick to the prime rib, but it’s very good.”

“Aren’t they adorable together?” Elliot’s mom said in a stage whisper that carried over to them.

Elliot’s father and uncle exchanged amused looks but said nothing.

“How long have you two been an item?” she asked.

“Um, almost a year now,” Doug said, his tone far more relaxed than Christopher expected. “Actually, it’ll be a year in….” Doug’s dilated pupils focused on the empty space in front of him. “Four days?”

He was so used to Doug deflecting questions about their relationship that hearing him not only acknowledge they were together but talk about their anniversary as if it was normal left him jittery and warm. “Four days.”

After more champagne and a sliver of cake, Doug tugged Christopher out onto the dance floor, surprising him yet again. Doug kept his hands on Christopher’s hips, rubbing warm circles into the fabric of the tuxedo pants. He held Christopher tight, not quite grinding against him but definitely not making any secret of the fact that they were a couple. “Aren’t you worried about people staring at us?” he asked.

He felt Doug chuckle as much as he heard it. “It’s a big, fancy gay wedding. No one’s going to pay us a second glance. And if they do, so what?”

Christopher wanted to point out how Doug wouldn’t even hold his hand in public back in Montana, but he wasn’t going to risk sending Doug’s affectionate side back into hiding.

T
HREE
DAYS
later, Christopher stepped around a long strand of soggy kelp and into the surf, bracing himself for the shock of the cold water against his legs. Doug was already waist deep, bouncing over the gentle waves as they broke against his smooth chest. Christopher let him go, content to watch the water cling to his dark skin and fall in glimmering streams over the smooth planes and valleys of his muscles.

He spent a bit too long staring, though, and had to rush deeper into the water. Hopefully the sudden drop in temperature would help him avoid looking like a pervert in front of the families around them. The shock of the water helped for a few moments, and then Doug smiled at him. It wasn’t the usual reserved smile Doug occasionally sent him when he couldn’t bring himself to say “I’m on your side” out loud. It was bright, open, and brimming with laughter. With the water dripping off thick chunks of his hair and making the dark black strands sparkle, he looked happier than Christopher had ever seen him. Something inside of Christopher tightened a little.

Doug splashed a handful of water at him and dove under the crashing water rolling toward them. Christopher had to jump into the wave to keep his head above water. The water plowed into him, so strong it lifted his feet off the sand. Before he managed to get back on something solid, Doug popped out of the water beneath him, his arms closed around Christopher, and hefted him out of the water altogether. The world spun as the water fell away. He felt like he was on a roller coaster, with Doug tossing around his hundred and ninety pound frame as though he weighed nothing.

He tried to convince himself the high-pitched scream he heard before the water closed over him wasn’t his, but he knew better. Doug followed him down, skimming his hands over Christopher’s chest and shoulders beneath the water.

And just like that, his shrunken cock sprang back to life as if the waves off Imperial Beach were actually warm. Doug squeezed his ass beneath the water, but the need to take a breath became pressing. Christopher kicked off the bottom, surging up and away from Doug’s enticing hands. When he broke the surface, he sucked in a lungful of air and realized they were deep enough he had to tread water. He spun around, looking for his lover.

The kids playing in the surf seemed far away, and the waves lifted him up and down, but they didn’t push him under like they did closer to the shore. But he couldn’t see Doug anywhere.

He bit back the panic that rose automatically and forced himself to think. Doug had been prepared to go under when he tossed Christopher, so he’d probably taken a deeper breath. And despite the fact that Christopher had never seen him swim before, the battered surfboards lovingly tucked away in his garage hinted that Doug was probably much stronger in the water than him. Since the only thing Christopher usually liked to do at the beach was stare at guys, that wasn’t saying much.

“Doug!” he called.

His lover rose from the water behind him, snaking his arms around Christopher’s chest. He tensed for a moment, just in case Doug decided to dunk him again. “We should swim back a bit,” Doug said, moving in a circle around him with a lazy sidestroke. “I can’t touch you if you can’t touch the bottom.”