A Kind of Romance (32 page)

“What?”

“I love you. We belong together. Forever. For real. Boyfriends, partners, husbands… whatever you say. What do you think? Will you marry me?”

“Are you crazy?” He hugged his arms tighter to his body and sniffed.

I moved in so we stood toe-to-toe and tilted his chin toward me.

“Yeah. I told you I’m nuts, but I’m also telling the truth. I love you. And I think you love me too.”

Benny shivered violently as a cold wind whipped along the avenue. I swept my coat off and gallantly set it over his shoulders. He looked up at me with a wan smile that struck me as too damn sad to be a good sign. I pulled him into my arms and hummed into his ear. He pushed at my chest and cocked his head curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m singing.”

“That was humming.”

“Then I’ll sing.”

Benny looked at the line of people loitering outside the restaurant and then at me and shook his head emphatically. “Don’t sing.”

I pulled him against my chest as I rubbed his arms through my coat and sang the first verse of “Someone to Watch Over Me.” I kept my voice low, for his ears only. When his shoulders convulsed, I stopped and pushed him back to get a better look at his face.

“Are you laughing or crying?”

“Yes.”

We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, sharing a sappy smile before our lips met. The tender joining of lips felt like coming home. As though every sign, every turn, every moment before this one was leading me here. To him.

He pulled back for a breath of air, letting his forehead fall onto my shoulder before looking up at me.

“I love you too, but… are you sure you want all this?” He motioned toward the restaurant, but I understood the gesture encompassed much more. “I’m not going to change. I’m high maintenance. I have a terrible temper, a loud-mouthed family, and—”

“Shh. I know, I know. And yeah, I’m sure. Hey, I brought you something.” I snaked my hand into my coat pocket, almost knocking the garment off his shoulder, before righting it and presenting him with a gift.

“A Snickers bar?”

“The flower vendors were closed and… you like Snickers and Gershwin in the moonlight.”

“I do.”

“Then you’ll have them. Every day.”

“I don’t want Snickers every day,” he said with a laugh as he hooked his arms around my neck.

He rained kisses along my jaw and chin until I finally captured his mouth in a searing kiss and then pulled back panting. “Then what do you want?”

“Just you.”

“You’ve got me. I’m yours.”

I pulled him against me with a sigh. Time stood still. The passing crowd barely registered. I was utterly lost in him. Now I knew I was lost without him. I wasn’t going to fight the feeling any longer. This wasn’t where I thought I’d be, but it was where I belonged. With this man… in our own kind of romance.

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.”

― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,
The Little Prince

THE SOFT
strains of
Clair de Lune
floated gently into the visitor’s lounge. The gorgeous melody soothed my nerves. I glanced at the enormous vase on the coffee table filled to capacity with dark pink roses in full bloom. Dad must have been here this morning, I mused as I turned toward Benny. He was staring at the familiar painting above the sofa and speaking in a low tone about a study he’d read about the soothing quality of art.

“They say impressionism is especially calming. Personally, I think it’s a snooze fest. Don’t get me wrong, I like some of it. Cezanne is amazing and….”

I tuned him out, knowing he wasn’t looking for feedback. He was nervous too. He’d been here with me before. He knew Miri now and understood she wouldn’t remember him, but Benny didn’t have a history with her. He had no expectations and wasn’t hurt that every visit required a reset. There was no chance to build a relationship. There was only this moment.

Today was different, though. Today was special. Or it should have been. I moved to his side and wrapped my arm around him and then kissed his cheek.

“We don’t have to stay long.”

“We’ll stay as long as she wants us,” he said sweetly before pointing toward the picnic basket he’d set on the table. “We brought lunch, remember?”

“Yes, but—”

“Hello, gentlemen. Miri has just been talking about all her visitors today. She’s quite a lucky lady,” Susan gushed, leading my mother into the room like she was royalty.

“Hi, Miri.”

She smiled kindly and let out a pleased gasp when she spotted the roses my father had surely brought by a couple hours ago. “Did you bring those? They’re beautiful!”

“Yes, they are, but no…. George probably brought—”

“We brought you these, Miri—” Benny held out a smaller bouquet he’d tucked into the basket with sandwiches and Bec’s homemade rugelach. “—Happy Mother’s Day.”

Her eyes lit with pleasure. “Oh my! Isn’t that sweet of you! What’s your name, dear boy?”

“Benny.” He touched her arm gently and then pointed toward the garden. “Would you like to have lunch with us?”

“I’d be delighted.” Miri turned to face me and cocked her head inquisitively. “I know you, don’t I?”

My heart beat double time. She hadn’t asked that question in months. I didn’t expect it. Especially after she asked Benny his name for the fiftieth time. I swallowed hard and nodded.

“Yes. You know me well. Um…. Mom, I have something to tell you.”

She didn’t move a muscle. Calling her mom was a risk. It had set her off a couple of times in the past when she was sure there was no possible way she could have mothered any children, let alone four. This time, she didn’t seem disturbed. I took a chance and moved closer.

“What is it?”

“Benny and I are getting married.” I reached out for my fiancé and laced my fingers through his. “I asked him a few days ago and… he said yes. I just—I wanted you to know.”

I couldn’t stop my goofy grin from taking over my entire face. I’d been nervous as hell the evening I got down on my knees in a quiet section of Central Park and asked Benny to marry me. He’d thought I was joking. It wasn’t unusual for me to throw my arms around him, nuzzle his neck, and tell him we ought to make this legal. We were practically married as it was. Benny had moved into my place in December. His studio apartment was now his workspace only. Everything else, including the crystal chandelier and candelabra were now in our home. It made for an eclectic vibe, but somehow it worked. Everyone agreed. Just as they agreed getting married was the right move for us.

Dad had been so happy, he’d cried. He wouldn’t stop hugging Benny and welcoming him into the family. I’d rolled my eyes, but it was only to keep myself from letting a tear or two loose. Gaia had the same reaction. She wanted to hold an engagement party for us at Johnny’s and already had big ideas about where the ceremony should be and how many people to invite. It was overwhelming. Frankly, I would have suggested eloping, but it was more important to me that Benny was happy.

I gazed at my beautiful man in wonder. A year ago, I’d been so sure he was the last man I’d ever fall for, but now I knew he was the only one. He was my rock, my anchor, my island of calm in a crazy, mixed-up world where justice didn’t always come and forgiveness was a virtue that should be granted without a price tag. He was my friend, my lover, and the one person I could count on to set me straight when my rigid attitude sometimes threatened common sense. I was an infinitely better man when I was with the boy with the blue hair. A more compassionate and patient one. Well, maybe not. I was a work in progress.

Miri covered her mouth and cast a confused look between us. “But you’re men. Is that okay?”

I laughed and impulsively squeezed her hand. “Yes, it’s legal now too.”

“I’m so happy for you, then. So very happy. He’s a beautiful man,” she commented in a hushed tone Benny could easily overhear. “I like the way you look at him. It’s a lovely look.”

“Thank you.” I glanced at Benny and grinned before signaling that we should gently remind her about the picnic.

He picked up the cue and escorted her outside, chatting about the weather, the food he’d brought, and the roses. She smiled and nodded, though I doubted she was listening closely now. She was simply happy in the moment. As I watched them move away arm in arm, I realized I was too.

Love wasn’t flowers or chocolate or songs in the moonlight. Those were simply small tokens of romantic affection. The real thing was a tangle of subtler emotion that came to life in a knowing glance, a familiar touch, or a soft sigh in the dark. I was learning love was a unique and sometimes frightening ride, but it was infinitely worthwhile. This wasn’t what I planned, but this was home now, and I was forever grateful for this man, this love… this kind of romance.

A Kind of Story

Rand O’Malley dreams of superstardom. He hopes to one day sing the blues like a rock god. Moving to New York City and hiring a new manager are steps to make his dreams a reality. But nothing moves as fast as Rand would like, and everyone has opinions, for example that he should keep certain pieces of himself quiet if he plans on making it in the Big Apple. Like his bisexuality.

Will Sanders is a gifted musician who dazzles Rand with his ability to coax gorgeous notes from an electric guitar one moment and play the piano like a professional the next. He’s a geek, but Rand isn’t concerned about Will’s pressed exterior clashing with his tattoos. His focus is music. Yet there’s something about Will that makes Rand think there’s much more to the quiet college student than he lets on. As Rand’s dreams begin to materialize, he’s forced to reconsider his priorities and find his own kind of truth. One that might include Will.

A Better Than Story

Matt Sullivan understands labels: law student, athlete, heterosexual. He has goals: graduate and begin his career in law. One fateful night, Matt tags along with his gay roommate to a dance club and everything changes. Matt finds himself attracted to the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. All labels go flying out the window.

Aaron Mendez doesn’t believe in labels, and he’s leery of straight curious men. He makes it clear that he’ll hide his fabulous light for no one. While Aaron can’t deny the attraction between him and Matt, he is reluctant to start anything with someone who is still dealing with what this new label means—especially when that someone has a girlfriend.

A Better Than Story

Jay Reynolds has a crush on his project leader at work, but an office romance with Peter Morgan isn’t likely to happen since Peter is straight. Worse, Jay soon fears Peter is homophobic, and his initial infatuation turns to loathing. But one fateful night, Jay is forced to acknowledge things aren’t quite as they seem with Peter. Suddenly, his crush is back and unbelievably, Peter is interested too.