Dillon gritted his teeth. He hated the way his folks referred to Megan as “that Nash girl.” He supposed it was their revenge on Megan for having the nerve to be the sister of gay brothers. Forcing himself to calm down, he said, “Yeah. Uh, about that. I have something I need to tell you and Dad.”
His mother raised her frosted blond head, her hazel eyes boring into him. “I take it this is something we aren’t going to like.”
“Probably not.”
Angela sighed. “I’ll go get your father. I think he’s out in the garage unloading the car. Wait for us in the dining room.”
The dining room. Nothing good ever came out of those dining room meetings. The formal dinning room of the Carver house was strictly for company, as evidenced by the pristine carpets and the scratch-less wood of the furniture. Family always ate in the kitchen. In addition to company dinners, though, the dining room had one other use: so-called family meetings. A family meeting consisted of either or both of the Carver boys sitting on one side of the table, and their parents on the other, staring them down. Strangely, Dillon wasn’t so worried about this one. What were they gonna do, throw him out? That was gonna happen soon enough anyway. The thought was liberating.
Dillon sat down at the mahogany table and waited. His father came in a few minutes later, stooping his shoulders to keep from hitting the door frame. His graying hair was mussed, something that always happened when he was irritated because he ran his fingers through it, tugging until Dillon was sure he was gonna pull it out. The green eyes behind the round glasses, so like Dillon and Heath’s, found his son in an instant.
“Your mother tells me you have something you want to talk to us about.”
“Yes, sir.” He waited until his mother came into the room and both his parents were seated before beginning. “Friday night at the dance, there was a fight, and I got hauled into the sheriff’s station.”
The horror in Angela’s voice was plain. “You were arrested?”
“No, ma’am. I was brought in for questioning, but no charges were filed. The sheriff was already there because of a possible danger to some of the gay students.”
Angela twitched her finger in the air. “I blame Dan Morgan for that. What did he think would happen when he trotted out all those homosexuals and rubbed them in the face of God-fearing children?” She put down her hand and turned to her son. “Was anyone hurt?”
“No, ma’am. The gay bashing turned out to be a false alarm. I don’t think the guys they suspected even showed up for the dance. The sheriff and his men ended up being called out for nothing.”
Douglas peered at his son over the top of his wire frames. “So since the sheriff ended up with nothing to do that night, you thought you’d give him something to occupy his time by getting into a brawl?”
“No, sir. I know it was wrong, but Ben Lewis insulted Megan, and I ended up punching him. Sheriff Nash and his husband broke up the fight and took us down to his office.”
The expression on Doug Carver’s face was chilling. “First of all, Nathan Morris and Brandon Nash are not married. Marriage is intended for men and women, and men and women only.”
“Nathan Nash.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nate changed his name when he and Brandon got married.” Dillon emphasized the word “married.”
Doug waved that away. “I could care less what he calls himself. Those two are not now, nor will they ever be, married. I was against you going to that sham of a wedding in the first place, and if you hadn’t insisted on taking that girl, I’d have been much happier. That aside, Ben Lewis is a hoodlum. Nash has some nerve taking you in for questioning when everyone knows it was probably Lewis’s fault. You’d think Nash would be glad to have someone taking up for that sister of his.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dillon’s voice held a rising anger that caused his father to move back a bit in his chair.
“Don’t take that tone with me, young man. All I meant was, with all the gays in Megan’s family, she’s bound to be the subject of ridicule. Nash should be glad to have someone sticking up for her.”
“The only people who would give Megan a hard time are small minded bigots whose opinions don’t matter, anyway.”
“Now, see here--”
Angela Carver cut her husband off with practiced ease. “Dillon, how did you get out of jail? Did the sheriff release you?”
“James Walker talked Lewis into dropping charges against me.”
“Charges against you?” Dillon’s father was an expert at righteous indignation. “Weren’t you the one who should have been pressing charges against him? You didn’t put that bruise on your own jaw, now did you?”
Dillon wasn’t about to tell them about that one. Instead he said, “Not when I threw the first punch. Anyway, James talked him into dropping the charges, and I was free to go. But since I still live under your roof, I needed a parent to sign me out. I think they call it a custody release.” He shrugged. “You guys were out of town, so he let me call Heath to come and fill out the paperwork.”
Douglas folded his arms over his chest. “I might have known Heath was involved in this, somehow. He doesn’t have time to come and see his parents, but he’s conveniently on call to pick his brother up from jail.”
Angela put her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Well, I for one, am glad he was home. I hate the thought of him having to spend all weekend down at the sheriff’s station.” She looked towards her son. “Dillon, I want you to go upstairs while your father and I discuss a suitable punishment.”
Dillon started to stand, but Douglas stopped him. “That won’t be necessary. There’ll be no punishment this time.”
His mother looked as shocked as Dillon was. “Douglas, we have to do something. This type of behavior is intolerable.”
“Boys fight, Angela. And given the nature of the fight itself, I think it’s safe to say it won’t happen again. I’m just thankful that Dillon no longer associates with that Walker boy. I have no doubt that he was a large part of this whole fracas.”
“James didn’t do one thing wrong, Dad. Not a single thing. And as far as breaking off my friendship with him goes, that’s the worst mistake I ever made.”
Doug laughed, the mockery so thick in his voice Dillon felt ill. “Why? What did he ever do for you?”
Dillon was so tempted to tell him, but he forced himself to wait. For his plan to work, his timing had to be just right. Ignoring his father, he said, “If that’s all, I’d like to be excused.”
His father said, “No, that’s not all. I believe I asked you a question.”
Angela cut in. “Let him go, Doug. I think we’ve done enough talking for one night, and, Dillon, I’m sure you have homework.”
He didn’t, but that didn’t stop Dillon from nodding his head and leaving the room. He had to get out of there before his father said another word.
* * *
Jamie cursed under his breath and pulled his coat tighter around his neck. The gap between his scarf and his collar was just enough to let the thirty-three degree temperature seep into his skin. No matter how many layers he wore, there was nothing he could do to combat the cold as he started the three-block-walk to school. He could have called Aunt Sadie to come and take him, but he hated to bother her. Since she’d retired from her nursing job two years ago, she did her best to stay busy with other things. Today was her day to volunteer at the public library, and she’d already left by the time Jamie realized Ben wasn’t gonna show. He’d be late, but there was no help for it. The temperature was actually high for February, and thankfully, it wasn’t snowing. Snuggling into his clothing, he set a fast pace and took off. He’d made it almost to the end of the first block when he heard a car pull up beside him, and a familiar voice say, “Get in.”
Jamie bent down to peer through into the rolled-down passenger window of the Lumina. Giving Dillon the most nonchalant look he could manage with his teeth chattering as they were, he said, “No, thanks. It’s not that far, and I don’t mind walking. Ben’s probably just running late. I’m sure he’ll stop and pick me up on the way to school.”
Dillon blew out the breath he’d just taken in, sending little clouds of smoke swirling out the open window and through the frigid air. “Christ, Jamie--I mean, James--you’re gonna freeze out here. Just get in the car. You can meet up with Lewis at school.”
Dillon must have seen the indecision on Jamie’s face, because he said, “I’m not gonna molest you, man. I swear. All I want to do is give you a ride to school. I meant what I said yesterday. No pressure.”
Jamie felt himself giving in, but the truth was, it wasn’t a hard decision to make. Yesterday at his house, he’d found himself aching to believe what Dillon said was true. Even after all the hurt Dillon had caused, Jamie had never stopped hoping he and Dillon could have something together. He was scared to let himself trust Dillon again, but that didn’t stop the butterflies that raced around his stomach every time he saw the guy, nor did it stop him from weaving dreams of a future with Dillon in a starring role. While all of this was waging a war inside his head, he failed to notice that Dillon had put the car in park and gotten out.
Dillon walked around to where Jamie was standing and opened the passenger door. Ever so gently, he tugged on Jamie’s arm with his left hand, urging him towards the car. “Come on, James. Please, get in the car.” When Jamie still hesitated, Dillon, without ever letting go of Jamie’s arm, stuck the glove of his right hand in his mouth and tugged it free with his teeth. He removed it from his mouth and stuffed it into his coat pocket. Then, with fingertips so tender Jamie wanted to moan, Dillon traced small circles on each of Jamie’s wind reddened cheeks. “Oh, babe, you’re almost frozen. Let me see if I can help.” Then, before Jamie could protest, Dillon leaned forward so that they were almost touching--so close that Jamie could feel the heat from Dillon’s skin. As Jamie stood before him in frozen silence, Dillon opened his mouth and huffed warm air onto Jamie’s cold cheeks.
Jamie was too stunned to say a word, but Dillon remained at his task. When he seemed satisfied that Jamie’s skin was warmer, Dillon again pulled him towards the car. “Come on. The car is nice and warm, and I want to get you out of this wind.” This time, Jamie went without protest.
The ride to school was mostly quiet, but, to Jamie’s surprise, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. He could still feel Dillon’s warm breath on his cheeks, still feel the moist heat from his body. And the fact that Dillon had done all that on a busy street didn’t escape him, either. Anyone could have seen them, and Dillon didn’t seem to care. Before he had time to reason it all through, Dillon was pulling the car into the senior parking lot.
Jamie started to get out, but stopped short of opening the door. Turning to Dillon, he said, “Thanks for the ride. And thanks for, um, warming me up.” He was mortified to feel himself blush.
Dillon’s grin caused the blush to grow. “You’re more than welcome for the ride. And as for the warming up, well, that was pure pleasure on my part.” He laughed as Jamie felt his face flame. “I always loved the way you blush. God, you’re cute.”
Jamie didn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t stop the smile that lit his face. Here he was, eighteen-years-old, and blushing like some ten-year-old kid. Giving Dillon one last muttered thanks, he started to get out. Dillon reached out his hand and stopped him. “James?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you usually eat lunch with Lewis, but I was hoping you might eat with me. I mean, I don’t see Lewis’s car, and it looks like he’s not gonna show. And even if he does, I was hoping you might go off campus with me and grab a bite to eat, anyway. I was thinking we might go to Hailey’s. We both have fourth period lunch and a free period afterwards, which means we’d have over an hour and a half before we actually had to be back in class.”
Jamie raised his brows. “How did you know I have a free period after lunch?”
It was Dillon’s turn to blush, and Jamie had to admit, it looked adorable on him. “I, uh, had Megan check your schedule.”
That little bit of knowledge did more to warm Jamie than any amount of heat ever could. “Just lunch? That’s all your asking for?”
“Just lunch.”
Jamie’s head told him to say no, but his heart answered before his brain could shut it up. “Okay. Where do you want to meet?”
“How about meeting me at my car after third period?”
Jamie nodded. “I’ll be here.” He got out of the car, carrying the image of Dillon’s triumphant grin with him.
His first three classes seemed to drag on forever. Though he tried to fight it, Jamie found himself getting excited about the prospect of spending an hour and a half with Dillon. It was the same thrill he used to feel when he knew he and Dillon would be spending the day together. He’d fallen in love with Dillon Carver when he was just barely eleven years old, even though it took him three years to work up the nerve to tell him so. It was amazing that after all this time, and after all the heartache, Jamie still felt an electrical shock zing up his spine every time he saw Dillon’s face.
When the third period ending bell rang, Jamie all but flew towards the parking lot. He’d almost made it to the double doors when a tug on his coat sleeve stopped him. He turned around to see the soft blue eyes of Megan Nash staring up at him.
His first reaction was panic. Dillon had lied to him. Megan was here to warn him off. All those things Ben had said at the dance were probably true. Dillon just wanted Jamie for a side dish while waiting for Megan to become the main course. God, how could he have been stupid enough to trust him again? He was just about to go from panic to anger when Megan spoke.
“Dillon sent me to keep you company until he gets here. His mother caught him after class and asked him to move some boxes from the teacher’s supply closet down to her class room. It’ll only take a second, but he didn’t want you to think he was standing you up for your lunch date.”
Jamie cleared his throat. “Date? He called it a date?”
Megan smiled. “Of course that’s what he called it.” When Jamie made no response, her face fell. “Was I not supposed to say that? He told me you guys were taking it slow. I didn’t mean to screw this up. Damn, damn, damn.”
All the relief Jamie felt knowing that Megan knew, that Dillon hadn’t lied, bubbled up and coupled with the natural hilarity of Megan’s muttered curses. He burst out laughing. Megan watched him for a full minute before she also got caught up and started laughing, too. When they’d both calmed, she said, “Does that mean you’re not mad?”
Though Jamie had known Megan for years, he couldn’t recall ever actually having a conversation with her before. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, they just ran in different circles. For some reason though, he found himself opening up.
“No, I’m not mad. I’m relieved to tell you the truth. When I saw you standing there, I thought maybe. . .”
Megan was nothing if not quick. “Oh, no. You thought I was coming to tell you to back off. No wonder you had that look on your face. You poor thing. I’m so sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything. It’s just something I’m gonna have to deal with.”
“Does that mean you’re gonna give Dillon another chance?”
“Damn. You ask the tough questions, don’t you? I wish I could answer you, but I honestly don’t know yet.”
Megan nodded. “Perfectly understandable. But, for what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you guys.”
Her sincerity made Jamie feel at ease, like they’d been friends for years or something. “Thanks, Megan. That means a lot to me.”
Dillon came up from the back hallway. “What means a lot to you?”
Megan stepped in. “Lunch.” She gave Jamie a wink that only he could see. “Lunch means the world to him, Dillon. Look at him. The boy is skin and bones. Go. Feed him.” She gave Dillon a peck on the cheek, then stunned Jamie by doing the same to him. Before either could say anything to her, she was gone.
Jamie just shook his head. “I like her. She’s a firecracker.”
“That she is.” Dillon pointed to the door. “You ready to go? I think I promised you lunch. According to Megan, you’re gonna waste away if I don’t get you to Hailey’s soon.”
Jamie nodded, and they left. The ride to Hailey’s was much like the ride to school, silent but comfortable. Jamie played with the radio while Dillon sung along in that off-key squeak of his. Dillon pulled up to the curb and threw the car in park. They got out of the car and started towards the front of the restaurant, but Jamie stopped just short of opening the door. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“What, eat lunch? I sure do. I’m starving.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Dillon sighed and stopped walking. “I know what you meant, and the answer is yes. In the first place, it’s not like we’re gonna have sex on the lunch counter. We’re just two friends having lunch together. And like I told you before, I could care less what anyone thinks. Well, anyone but you, that is. Now, can we please go in and eat? I wasn’t kidding about the starving part.”
Jamie followed him inside, content just to be with him. Hailey’s Cafe never seemed to change a bit, the very epitome of a small town restaurant. Same old white vinyl covered booths, same old stools and blue checkered table cloths. The enticing smells coming from the kitchen were enough to drive a hungry man insane, as evidenced by the near packed house. Hailey Johnson, the owner, met them at the door. The blue-eyed blond had a thousand-watt smile and a warm manner that had broken many a heart. “Hi, guys. Would you like a table, or are you going to sit at the counter?”
Leaving Jamie standing in the doorway, Dillon stepped forward and whispered in her ear. Jamie saw her smile and nod. When Dillon stepped back to Jamie’s side, Hailey said, “Follow me, boys. It’s awful crowded in here. I thought you might like to eat in The Party Room.”
The Party Room was just that, primarily reserved for the large luncheons and dinners Hailey often catered. It was also separated from the rest of the Café by a thick blue curtain. Hailey led them through and seated them at a booth on the far wall. Before Jamie sat down, Dillon helped him remove his coat. After Dillon removed his own heavy barn jacket and set them both on a nearby empty table, Jamie expected Dillon to take the seat across from him. Once again, though, Dillon surprised him by sliding in on the same side.
Hailey offered menus, but neither needed them. After ordering two plates full of Hailey’s spicy chicken fingers and fries with Cokes to wash them down, Dillon and Jamie settled in to wait.
Pulling a napkin out of one of the old-fashioned chrome holders and, twisting it into a ball with his fingers, Dillon said, “I hope eating back here was okay with you.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” He took in the familiar knotty-pine paneling and the Norman Rockwell reproductions on the walls. “I love this place.”
Dillon turned to face him, so close they were practically nose to nose. “I didn’t mean the café. I meant eating back here, alone.”
Jamie was surprised at how husky his own voice sounded. “I think it’s nice.”
Dillon leaned in even closer. “That’s why I asked Hailey to put us back here. I didn’t want you to think I was ashamed to be seen with you. That’s not it. I just wanted you all to myself.” His sweet, hot breath fanned Jamie’s face.
Oh, God. Jamie could feel himself getting hard, his rising erection pressing against the rough denim of his jeans. He stared at Dillon’s mouth, wondering what his lips would taste like. In the past, Dillon had resisted all of Jamie’s efforts to kiss him. Would this new Dillon--the one who always seemed to know exactly the right thing to say, the one who could make Jamie hard with just a glance--would this new Dillon push him away were he to lean forward just a quarter of an inch and taste him? As afraid as he was to know the answer, Jamie had just about decided to go ahead and test the theory when Hailey came back with their Cokes. The boys broke apart in an instant.