Darwin's Natural Selection (4 page)

“Fuck you, asshole,” Andy snapped. “I just wanted to see how you were doing and you call me a slut. Nice.”

It was Tom’s turn to snort. “Please. You called because Mickey left and you’re horny.

Go to the club and pick someone up. I’m not interested.” With that, he ended the call.

He grinned. Telling Andy off had felt really good. Riding on the wave of confidence, he dialed the number written on the crinkled slip of paper, not even panicking…

Until he heard the phone ringing on the other end of the call.

“Oh shit,” he muttered as his hands began to sweat. “What the fuck did I just do?”

*

Although his heart accelerated when his cell phone rang, Darwin reminded himself not to get too excited. He’d spent the past three days jumping every time his phone rang, just to be disappointed when it turned out to be an automated campaigning call or something.

“Hello,” he answered cautiously.

There was just silence. It wasn’t the quiet of a lost call or even a bad connection, though—someone was definitely on the other end of the line. He just wasn’t talking.

A thrill ran through him and Darwin spun in a tight, triumphant circle. “Is this Tom?” he asked, trying to keep his voice low-key. Yipping like an excited puppy would not help the poor guy’s nerve.

There was a small sound on the other end of the call, not really a yes, but it was good enough for Darwin.

“I was hoping you’d call,” he said, rolling his eyes at the understatement. “How are you?”

There was another sound, hardly more than a breath.

“I’ll take that as a, ‘Just great, Darwin.

How are you?’” he teased, almost giddy with excitement.

Although Tom’s laugh was more of a gasp, it still made Darwin grin.

“I’m

pretty

good,

even

though

MacDougal ripped me a new one for talking to you the other day. Actually, it was for slacking off—he wouldn’t have cared if I’d talked to you, as long as I kept working while I was doing it.” He lowered his voice in an imitation of his boss’s bellow. “‘Are yo u
trying
to fuck up my schedule, Bloom?

Huh? Because you’re doing a damn fine job of it!’”

Darwin didn’t know who this Chatty Cathy of a person was who’d taken over his body, but something about Tom’s terrified silence made Darwin babble.

Tom’s chuckle was stronger this time, less like a wheezy exhalation. “Er…sorry,”

he croaked before clearing his throat. “For, um…getting you in trouble.”

Feeling an illogical amount of pride for managing to get the other man to speak actual words, Darwin said, “Are you kidding? That wasn’t your fault. I managed to get my ass chewed all by my damn self.

What
is
your fault was making me wait for three days before you finally called me.” He closed his eyes. The downside to the torrent of words coming out of his mouth was he didn’t have time to filter them. That last sentence was a little too pathetic-sounding for his taste.

“Oh. I’m…sorry?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Darwin assured him. “You called. That’s what matters. So, Tom… What’s your last name?”

There was a pause, just long enough for Darwin to wonder whether the other man was going to answer.

“Cooper,” Tom finally said.

Darwin let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “So, Tom Cooper, are you interested in getting that drink? It doesn’t have to be at The Pink Store. In fact, it’s probably better if it isn’t. The Pink Store is kind of like that odd relative you keep hidden until the fortieth or fiftieth date.”

Fifty dates? Fuck. Why don’t you just ask the guy if he wants to adopt a baby with you? Cool it, D, before you freak the man out.

He made a face and mentally amended that.
Freak him out
more
.

“Actually…” Tom was talking, so Darwin shut off his internal monologue so he could pay attention. “What…what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow?” Darwin grinned. “I’m going out with you. Did you have somewhere in mind?”

“My…ah, sister is having a…thing,” Tom non-explained, sounding awkward. Heaping piles
of awkward, in fact. “I promised I’d go but I was, um, hoping…” His words stuttered to a complete halt.

His eyebrows shooting up in surprise, Darwin asked, “A family thing?” And here he’d thought
he
was moving fast by talking about the fiftieth date.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” Tom asked. “It
is weird. Never mind. Forget I even sa—”

“Wait!” Darwin cut him off, worried Tom was about to hang up. “It’s not weird. I’d love to go.”

“Really? To a lame family dinner?”

Surprise had apparently made Tom forget about his fear, making him actually sound relaxed.

“Sure,” he answered. “What time should I pick you up?”

“No!” Just like that, the terror was back in Tom’s voice, stronger than ever. “I…um, I mean, could we just meet there?”

“Of course.” Darwin tried to make his voice as soothing as possible. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize this date, even if it meant driving separately. “What time should we meet?”

“It starts at eight.” Tom still sounded tentative and Darwin tightened his fingers around his phone, as if he could keep the other man on the line by the strength of his grip alone. When he realized what he was doing, he forced his fingers to relax.

Breaking his phone wasn’t going to help.

“Eight,” he repeated. “Sounds good.

Where?”

“Anthony’s.”

“Fancy,” Darwin teased. “Does this mean I have to buy a tie?”

There was a startled silence. “Well, no…

of course not,” Tom answered. “Whatever you have is…I mean, it won’t be formal or anything.”

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh.” Tom was quiet for a couple beats.

“Sorry. I’m usually more fun than this.”

“Don’t worry,” Darwin said. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Uh-huh.” Tom didn’t sound as if he believed him.

Tom was stuck in his truck again.

The pathetic thing—even more pathetic than being too scared to get out of his truck —was that Darwin hadn’t even arrived yet.

Tom had been ready to leave his house a half-hour early. After pacing for ten minutes, he hadn’t been able to take it any longer and had left.

Sitting in his truck parked in the crowded lot in front of Anthony’s was worse than pacing. Every car, every SUV, every truck could be Darwin’s. With every vehicle that passed the turnoff into the parking lot, Tom’s stomach untwisted, just to knot up again as someone else approached.

Tearing his attention away from the traffic, he checked his reflection in the rearview mirror and made a face. He needed to make an appointment to get his hair cut.

It was getting too long and refused to stay where he put it. He fussed with the strands flopping down toward his eyes for a few moments and then looked away from the mirror. That wasn’t helping his nerves any more than watching for Darwin to arrive.

Taking a deep breath, he forced his hand to the door handle and gave it a yank. His heart beat too quickly in his ears and he had to consciously slow his fast, shallow breaths.

It wouldn’t be good to start his first date in more than six months by hyperventilating.

He slid out of the truck and shut the door, locking it immediately so he couldn’t give in to the temptation to climb back into the security of the enclosed cab. As he crossed the parking lot, he realized he was biting the inside of his lower lip and made himself quit.

There was a bench next to the entrance and Tom sat on it, only to pop up immediately. He paced, caught himself chewing his lip again and stopped. He sat down once more, keeping his body still by sheer effort of will.

“Tom Cooper.” Darwin’s voice melted his insides for a split second before fear kicked in again and Tom popped to his feet.

After watching all those cars pass the parking lot, his flustered pacing had made him miss Darwin’s actual arrival.

His vocal cords had frozen again but Tom forced out the semblance of a “hi”. He managed to meet Darwin’s eyes for a moment and then had to look away. The guy was just too incredibly good-looking.

Darwin in his work clothes had been bad enough but in a suit… Tom swallowed.

“Good to see you.” The warm suggestion in Darwin’s voice, even when saying such a simple, everyday thing, heated Tom’s skin.

He looked away to hide his red cheeks.

“You too,” Tom managed. “We should probably go inside. Almost everyone’s here.”

“Am I late?” he asked. Tom’s eyes automatically darted toward the other man and he was reminded of why he’d looked away in the first place when Darwin smiled, bringing his beauty to a whole new and scary level.

Tearing his gaze away yet again, Tom shook his head. “I was early, so I, uh, saw people arrive.” He shifted his weight.

“Should we go in?” He knew he was repeating himself but he needed to be inside the safety of the crowd—not because he was afraid Darwin would harm him, but…

He couldn’t finish the thought. There was no logic to his fear. He couldn’t define why he was afraid. He just was.

“Sure,” Darwin said easily, moving to hold open the door for Tom. As they stepped into the entryway, a group of four people on their way out surged through the second set of doors. The foursome crowded into the small entry, cheerfully apologizing as they bumped and jostled against Tom for a few endless seconds before shouldering their way out into the chilly evening.

Unexpected panic caught Tom and he forgot to breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even move. While the reasonable voice in his head told him it was stupid to be afraid just because he’d been crowded by a few people who hadn’t meant any harm, the rest of his brain shut out everything except the fear.

It was seconds or minutes later before Darwin’s voice penetrated.

“You’re okay, Tom. It’s okay. You should probably breathe now. That’s good, in and out, in and out.”

The quiet rumble of his words continued, keeping Tom breathing. He realized his back was pressed against Darwin’s front. He could feel the other man’s heat, even through the barrier of two coats. Could feel the motion of Darwin’s chest, the regular lift and fall that lulled Tom into matching his breathing to the larger man’s. Darwin’s hands held his, his thumbs stroking with the same soothing rhythm as his words.

Tom stepped forward, pulling his hands free of the other man’s grip. “I’m okay,” he said, embarrassment overtaking any lingering panic. “Sorry.”

“You sure?” Darwin asked, following Tom through the second set of doors into the restaurant. His fingers brushed Tom’s coat sleeve but Tom shook him off.

“Yes. I’m fine.” His words were brusquer than Darwin deserved but Tom couldn’t help it. It’d been six months and he still couldn’t get through two minutes of a normal date. How fucked up
was
he?

Hands touched his shoulders and Tom spun around. “Just leave it, okay?”

The startled face of the maître d’ looked back at him. “Your coat, sir?” he asked tentatively.

Blood rushed into Tom’s face again.

“Sorry,” he muttered, shrugging out of his coat and handing it over. The maître d’ took it tentatively, as if Tom might snatch it back at any second. Darwin handed his coat over and raised an eyebrow at Tom, looking amused.

For some reason, the humor in Darwin’s expression took the sting out of Tom’s embarrassment. “He thinks I’m crazy,” he muttered to Darwin, who grinned.

“Probably just thinks you really like your coat.”

Tom laughed. He couldn’t help it.

Although he stopped abruptly when Darwin’s finger brushed his cheek.

“Sorry,” Darwin apologized, dropping his hand. “It’s just that you have dimples.”

Tom eyed him warily, not sure what to say.

With a shrug, Darwin explained, “I hadn’t seen them before. I like them.”

“Oh.” Tom, desperate for a way out of a moment that had gone awkward with unexpected heat, couldn’t think of anything else to say. When the maître d’ reappeared to lead them to the table where Tom’s sister was holding court, he wanted to kiss the man in gratitude.

He darted a quick glance back at Darwin.

He’d actually rather kiss
that
man though.

The thought sent a fresh surge of panic through him and Tom sighed.

He really was a huge amount of fucked-up.

Tom’s sister looked like a feminine version of him, with the same dark-brown hair and doe eyes, the same full bottom lip and dimples. Because of the resemblance, Darwin was predisposed to like her even before she opened her mouth.

“Well, fuck me,” she breathed, staring at Darwin.

“Excuse me?” the man next to her said, the corners of his mouth twitching with a suppressed grin.

“Oh! Sorry, honey.” She gave him a distracted pat on the arm. “I was just so sure Tom’s date would be, you know, imaginary or a hooker or something.” Her gaze narrowed. “You’re
not
a hooker, are you?”

“Anne!” Tom yelped.

Darwin shook his head, amused. “Framer —as in houses, not paintings. And you?”

She laughed. “Yeah, I’m not a hooker either. I’m Anne, this is Quinn, and you must be Darwin. Wow.”

“Okay, quit drooling,” Quinn teased her, holding out his hand for Darwin to shake.

“Have a seat. I have to warn you, though—if you sit next to Anne, be prepared for the third degree.”

Darwin glanced around the table. The only two unoccupied chairs were to Anne’s left. The rest of the spots were filled by guests who were watching with interest.

Tom sat in the chair directly next to Anne.

“I’ll try to be the buffer,” he muttered as Darwin sat down next to him.

“I’m Macy,” the redhead to his left said.

“Darwin.” He shook her hand.

“So you’re Tom’s…?” Her question trailed off unfinished.

Darwin’s mouth twitched. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’m Tom’s.”

Tom must have overheard the exchange because he made a small sound under his breath, somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Darwin held back a grin.

“Well, he didn’t ease back into the dating pool, did he?” Macy commented, eyeing as much of Darwin as she could see in his seated position. “He jumped in with both feet instead.”