- Black Gold 2 - Double Black (7 page)

Cole frowned at the way Goldie defended Jethro, then sighed and pressed their cheeks together. He wanted to hold Goldie forever, to feel connected to someone he knew cared about him. He let go, though, and stepped away to stuff his face with Hasani’s snacks.

If he didn’t, Goldie would notice Cole’s stiffy eventually.
“So when do I—” Cole accidentally spewed edamame onto the gleaming countertop talking with his mouth full. He flushed, mumbled, “Sorry,” and grabbed at a towel to wipe it up. “When I do go give blood or whatever? Do I do it today? Does it really only take a week?”

“That’s what Jett said. I don’t really know.” Goldie chewed his lip. “We didn’t talk much last night. Just enough to let him know why you were here and get him to agree to it. I don’t think you have to give blood; they just swab your cheek.”

Goldie grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island and took a bite. “Yeah, I heard you guys not talking.” Cole munched another handful of snack mix and watched Goldie from the corner of his eye.

“Oh.” Goldie blushed, boyish and sweet. “I could move you to a room farther down the hall. I guess that’s sort of weird if Jett’s your… I mean…yes. I can move you if you’d like. And we should get you something else to wear.”

Cole tilted his head to one side and sized up Goldie. He wondered what it would take to keep him blushing. He directed a pointed look of admiration at Goldie’s skintight pants. “So were you going to take me shopping in your closet again? Because I just finished watching a top twenty pop style icons countdown, and I don’t know that I’d find much in there that would suit my, uh, look.”

Goldie looked down at his pants and remained flushed. “I could send for something. We could shop online. Pick out what you want, and I can send someone out to get it.”

He sighed heavily. “Or I guess I could send you to get your own stuff. I can’t really go out without a security detail. I think that’s why Jett likes to go out on his own. It’s hard out there for a style icon.”

“That sounds miserable, not being able to go anywhere. Being trapped. Like being grounded, but you didn’t do anything wrong.” Cole moved to Goldie’s side and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I bet we could sneak out, though. You could wear a hat or something, and we’ll just go to like… I don’t know. Do you guys have Kmarts?”

Goldie tossed his head back for a loud, infectious laugh. “A
hat?
I hardly think that a hat would be enough to disguise…”

Then he raised a brow, like he was remembering something. “Actually, I do have an old green baseball cap. And I bet I could borrow some of Jett’s sunglasses. Do you think that would work?”

“Yeah! And I mean, if you don’t talk to people or whatever, why wouldn’t it work? We just go somewhere no one would expect to see Goldie!” Cole bounced with excitement and took the opportunity to rub against him with another hug. As long as Goldie didn’t tell Cole to stop, he was going enjoy every moment. “We can wear his jeans and T-shirts so no one recognizes your style, and they’ll be kind of baggy so no one recognizes your butt. You have a very distinctive butt.”

Cole nodded, standing by the remark.
Goldie’s jaw dropped for a moment, eyes wide; then he turned to throw out the core of the apple he’d almost choked on. “Well, okay, I guess I could um, wear baggy pants if you think that would help.”
In triumph, Cole grinned. “Let’s go! C’mon!”

He started to race out of the kitchen, then paused and looked back at Goldie. “How long has it been since you did something like this?”
Goldie’s smile was endearing, like he was reliving a fond memory. “A few years, I guess. I took a pretty big chance that night, but it seemed to work out well.”
He followed Cole up the stairs and then headed to his room. Goldie returned to the hallway a moment later holding a pair of skinny jeans. “Let’s get people looking at your butt. Then they’ll totally miss mine, I’m sure.”
Before Cole could respond, Goldie kissed his cheek. “Okay, I’m going to have a quick shower and try to look ordinary. See you in twenty.”
Cole stared after Goldie, then looked at the jeans he’d been given. He could definitely use a shower, preferably with a happy ending. He followed Goldie with his gaze until the door to the master bedroom closed. Then he turned and went into his room—his room, in Goldie’s house—to get ready.

After a stress-relief shower, he pulled on the jeans he’d been given, the shoes he’d arrived in, sans socks since they were nasty, and the shirt Goldie had loaned him. Then he finger-combed his short, damp hair and wandered into the hall to wait.

Goldie emerged from the master bedroom, holding a phone to his ear. His hair was tied with a plain band, a green baseball cap on his head. A plain white T-shirt clung to his abs in all the right places. The jeans were far too tight and artfully ratted out to belong to an ordinary discount-store shopper. He kept the scruff, which helped, and a pair of aviator sunglasses covered his distinctive eyes.

“Robbie? It’s Goldie. Look, I want to go to Kmart, and I need some pants. And uh, an American car. Or a truck?”
Cole couldn’t make out what was being said on the other end, but it sounded loud.
“No, Jett’s not high. He’s not even with me. I’m going with another friend. His, uh, son.”

There was another exclamation. Goldie held up a finger and retreated into his room.
After a few minutes, Goldie returned, all smiles. “Okay, so Uncle Robbie will be here shortly with some pants for me and an SUV.”
Cole nodded, staring at Goldie’s tight jeans and grateful he’d taken the time to rub one out in the shower. On the bright side, Goldie had told someone else that Cole was Jethro’s son. He really did believe him.
Kneading the back of his neck, Cole wondered how much that hurt his chances of convincing Goldie that he was better for him than Jethro.
“Wait, not uncle. Well, okay, Robbie’s my security guy and not really blood related, but he’s like family. You’ll just love him!”

Pondering how Goldie could confuse a blood relation with a bodyguard, Cole followed Goldie down the stairs. Goldie seemed oblivious to Cole’s staring, or maybe he just appeared to be. It was hard to imagine Cole was the first guy who’d stared at Goldie’s ass.

Outside, tires crunched on the driveway, and Goldie peeked out the window. He lit up, so Cole opened the door and wandered out.
Emerging from the driver’s door of the SUV was a big, fatherly-looking black man who sized up Cole the moment their eyes met. Something about the man seemed dangerous despite his respectable appearance, and Cole didn’t think it was only Midwestern minority anxiety.

The man eyed Cole with open suspicion.
“Uh, Goldie?” Cole grew nervous that the man might eject him from the premises. “Young man.” He offered a massive hand to shake. “I’m Robbie.”

Cole took Robbie’s hand and gave it a tentative squeeze. “I’m Cole. Nice to meet you, sir.”
As Robbie returned the squeeze, Cole looked at Goldie for reassurance, wishing he’d come closer so Cole could hide behind him.
Goldie bounded out and leaped into Robbie’s arms.
The large man chortled and shook his head. “Boy, you’re getting a little big to be flinging yourself at old men!”
“I’m not big at all!” Goldie play-poked Robbie’s chest and dropped to his feet. “I missed you.”
Robbie shook his head. “I was here two days ago.”
“That was two days ago. You should move in.” Goldie pouted. Honest to goodness
pouted
at Robbie. Was this guy more than a security guard?
“With my wife and kids?”
What in the world was going on?

Goldie nodded. “Yes. Everyone!”

Robbie rolled his eyes and then turned around to retrieve a pair of baggy pants from the SUV. He tossed them at Goldie. “Go cover your ass already.”
Cole stared wide-eyed at the exchange between the pair. His fascination gave way to dread at the prospect Goldie might leave them alone while he changed. Trying to keep him from leaving, Cole blurted, “So uh…how would Jethro feel about Robbie moving in, Goldie? Heh. With his wife and kids.”

“JETT WAS THE one who suggested it. Though that may have been for the pancakes Robbie’s wife makes more than any affection for Robbie.” Goldie winked at Cole and patted his shoulder.

He was acting a little weird. Was Kansas really so devoid of black people that he might be afraid? Goldie looked over his shoulder at Robbie.

 

In fairness, Robbie had been hired to be intimidating.

 

“Let me run inside and put these on.” Goldie held up the jeans, ducked inside, and switched his pants.

The two men appeared to be making awkward conversation. Cole kept his head down and nodded a lot. Goldie wondered what they were saying, but Robbie probably wouldn’t tell him.

Goldie ran back out and pulled his cap lower. “So what do you think? Do I pass for the hoi polloi?”
“Perfect!” Cole smiled as he looked Goldie up and down. Then he glanced over at Robbie and looked away. “So, um. I’m gonna get in the truck.”

True to his word, Cole turned his back to them, opened the door, and climbed into the vehicle as Robbie looked on.
Goldie eyed Robbie. “You weren’t mean to him, were you?”

Robbie raised his brows and his hands. “Me? Mean?”
No, Robbie wasn’t mean to people, exactly, but he could be daunting. Jett was understandably defensive about Cole, but that Robbie was cool toward him made Goldie wonder if he was doing the right thing. Jett and Robbie had hit it off right away.
Leaning in, Goldie whispered, “Do you think that’s Jett’s son?”

Robbie narrowed his eyes at Goldie. “I think you should get a test. You should be asking yourself why you
want
that to be his son. You like him, don’t you?”
Goldie crossed his arms and nodded. “I can’t help it. He’s so much like Jett. Robbie, I’m not going to have a family like you do. I mean, Jett and I…and he’s… Well, Jett won’t have another chance.”

“Goldie, Jett doesn’t
want
a chance at having a child. You know that.” The words were no less gutting because they were true or coming from Robbie. “I know. I just…”

Robbie’s hand rested heavily on Goldie’s shoulder. “You want one.” That wasn’t a question. On the spot, Goldie felt very uncomfortable. “Someday.” Robbie’s thick fingers curled into his skin. “Someday soon.”

Goldie looked at the SUV, wanting to escape. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not even that. I just like having company.”
Grabbing his other shoulder, Robbie pulled Goldie to face him. “Of course it matters. You can’t keep that to yourself. You’re gonna have to tell Jett.”
Goldie looked everywhere but into Robbie’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I have my album, and Jett… Can you imagine him with a child?”
Robbie snorted. “No.”
The finality of Robbie’s statement was too much for Goldie to bear. He wriggled from Robbie’s grip. “So there you go.”
“Hey, Goldie. Look, you ain’t gonna change him by
not
telling him, and you’re not gonna stop wanting a family, if that’s what you really want.”

Goldie looked at his expertly manicured lawn. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can we just go to Kmart?”

 

Robbie gave Goldie a quick, tight hug. “Sure, kid. Whatever you want.”
* * * *
Kmart bustled with chubby families pushing carts. None of them spared Goldie a second look.

It gave him a wonderfully anonymous feeling, even if the immature part of him wanted to pull off his hat and glasses and say, “TA-DA! It’s Goldie!”
Would they know who he was? Probably.

But why would they care? There were discount juice boxes to be had. Goldie kept running into people while he gazed at signs hanging from the ceiling. “Food and clothes in the same store! That’s very convenient, but do you really want your frozen pizza chilling your tighty whities?”
Cole shot him a bemused look. “Oh, they put them in different bags. When you work as a bagger, they teach you how to divvy things up.” He moved closer to Goldie as if fearful of being overheard and reached for his hand. “Have you really never shopped in a discount superstore before? That’s so weird. So like, is this your virgin trip somewhere like this? Should I feel special?”
Robbie raised a brow at their clasped hands, but Goldie was convinced it was only Cole’s attempt to keep Goldie from ruining his cover.
“I don’t think I have. I mean, maybe when I was very young. I don’t think Jett approves of them.” Goldie wasn’t sure if he did either, but if it made Cole more comfortable, he’d go with it. “You know a lot about bagging. You worked at a place this big?”

Cole looked around with a blank, appraising stare and shrugged, for a moment the very image of Jett. Then he cracked a smile and squeezed Goldie’s hand excitedly, breaking the spell. “Sort of. It wasn’t as fancy. This is a really nice one. They have organic potato chips even! Everything’s so expensive here. Wow.”

“I hear that about California. But if you want them, grab them. Hasani isn’t likely to keep things like that in the house, organic or not. Should we get a cart?”
Goldie eyed them. Not far away, a toddler mouthed the handle of the wire basket. All around people were handling, coughing on, and otherwise touching the carts.

“Do people normally let their children suck on those?”

 

The observation seemed to startle Cole. “I dunno. I mean, there’s antiseptic wipe things if you’re worried about it.”

Cole pointed to an industrial-sized tub of wet wipes. Lips pursed in an amused expression Goldie had seen on Jett a hundred times, Cole snatched a wipe, rubbed down the pushbar of a cart, and rolled it to Goldie.

As Cole took a few bags of chips off a prominent shelf and started loading the basket with them, his gaze darted to Goldie’s, then sideways to Robbie’s face. “Robbie, tell Gol—”

Cole looked around quickly, as though some sharp-eared fan would hear him and start a stampede. “Tell him the cart isn’t carrying plague, will you? You use carts too, right? I mean, it’s…” Cole seemed to be looking for a word, his brows drawing together as he thought. “It’s normal, right, Robbie?”

“Yeah, it’s normal. Billy ain’t normal, though.” Robbie patted Goldie’s back and pushed the cart for him.

Goldie wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or insulted. He followed, looking at the brightly colored products under the harsh store lighting. He felt like a tourist in a foreign land where everything was wrapped in plastic. He couldn’t help but gape.