Mandarin Orange: Sweet and Sour (11 page)

Kelly blinked and stood right where he was, halfway between the hallway and the couch. “Um. Sure?”

“Cool. I’ll let them know. So how was your... what do you gay guys call it? Date? Trick? Fuck? Whatever. Did you have fun with the could-have-been-a-fucking-serial-killer?”

Another blink, then Kelly laughed. “What, you mean Leonard?” He started moving again, relaxing at finally knowing what Riley’s problem was. “Oh, man. It’s so bizarre, but cool, too, I think.” Kelly flopped down in the chair by the couch. “Leonard’s totally not my type, but I saw him dancing, you know? And there was something about how he moved, so I figured it would be fun, right? Well, it turns out he works for me! Or for Harry, anyway, which is kind of the same thing, considering...”

Kelly told Riley about Leonard and what they’d talked about at the club. “Then we ditched and went for coffee at this diner he knows about, and when he realized I still hadn’t seen the school -- remember, we got kind of sidetracked the other night, going to the Buy Rite -- he figured we might as well swing by and check it out. He’s been working at the martial arts school for years now, so he has a key, and I guess he knows someone on the crew doing the renovating because he told me all about everything that was going on.”

Riley made a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a snort, as far as Kelly could tell. “I’ll bet. So that’s what you were doing until five in the morning. Looking at construction.” Deadpan, like Riley didn’t want to show any emotion or something. Weird.

“No, that’s what I was doing until about three-thirty. Then Leonard offered to buy me breakfast, and I’ve never turned down a free meal in my life, so we hit the diner again. Um, if you’re ever out at four a.m., try the banana-and-chocolate-chip waffles at the Castle Diner. Or the Big Breakfast. Four eggs any style, half a pound of the breakfast meat of your choice, hash browns, and four pancakes. God, I thought Leonard would have a heart attack right then and there.” Kelly grinned. “For such a long, lanky guy, he eats like a lumberjack. Maybe that’s why he trades work for martial arts classes. It would explain a lot.”

Kelly didn’t know why, but Riley seemed to relax a little after that. Those broad shoulders loosened, anyway, returning to their normal position rather than being hunched up close to Riley’s ears.

“Sorry.” It didn’t make any sense, Riley saying that out of nowhere. “Fuck. It’s just that for all I knew, that redheaded dude -- Leonard, I guess -- dragged your ass out of there and killed you. So just do me a fucking favor, okay? Next time you want to wander off with some fucking guy, try calling. At least until you’re moved in downstairs.” Riley still wasn’t looking at him, but Kelly was sure the guy was blushing. The side of Riley’s face that Kelly could see was pink, anyway.

“Okay,” Kelly answered with a shrug. “But I doubt it’s going to be an issue. Most of the new furniture’s supposed to be delivered tomorrow. And Harry said the school was supposed to open again next week, but from what I saw last night, the contractors either underestimated how long they needed or they’re slacking off.” Riley grunted. “I’ll call if I’m out late tonight, how about that?”

Oddly enough, promising exactly what Riley had asked seemed to make the man tense. Again. Because Riley sat up straighter, no longer slouching even a little. Then those eyes turned, and Kelly wasn’t sure about what he saw there, but it set something to fluttering in the pit of his stomach.

“You’re going out tonight?” It sounded almost accusing and more than slightly annoyed, but Kelly nodded.

“Yeah. I’m catching an early movie with Leonard. Um... that one about the football team. I can’t remember what it’s called. I should be back by ten, though. Leonard works early, and he’s probably beat after being up so late last night.” Kelly chuckled and ran one hand through his hair. “I’m not sure he even went to sleep, to tell you the truth. I wouldn’t have if I’d needed to be at work by eight a.m.”

Riley frowned. “It’s his own fucking fault. Nobody made him stay out all fucking night, did they? And what does he do, anyway, that he stayed out and went to work? Does it involve heavy machinery?” Riley seemed hopeful.

Kelly laughed again. “No, he’s a school teacher. Kindergarten. I kind of feel sorry for him, dealing with a bunch of five-year-olds on little to no sleep, but you’re right. That’s on him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he cancelled on me for the movie, but...” His brow furrowed. “I guess I should call him later to offer him an out. I never got around to giving him my number. I started to after he gave me his, but our food came and I just never got around to it.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Riley said, suddenly sounding less growly. Again. “I’m thinking about going back to work tonight, by the way. So don’t be surprised if I’m out late, myself. And I’m gonna fucking go, already. I need to hit the gym. Have fun.”

The next thing Kelly knew, Riley wasn’t on the couch. Instead, the man was halfway across the living room, then he disappeared down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He was back a minute or so later, a sports bag slung over one shoulder.

“Later, man,” Riley said quickly, then he tossed a smile that looked so real, Kelly couldn’t help smiling in return. “Don’t let the fucking hell-hound mess up my rugs.”

“Okay, that wasn’t at all weird,” Kelly told Goober when the sound of the door closing brought the dog running inside through the open balcony doors. “No, that was entirely normal. Pissed off to calm to annoyed to just fine, all inside of ten minutes.” He grinned at Goober’s
woof
, then reached down and scratched the dog’s ears. “Maybe he has a chemical imbalance or something. And yeah, another thing for the ‘never ask’ list, buddy. So what do you think about a run? Want to find your leash?”

Goober was clearly on board with that idea because as soon as the words left Kelly’s mouth, the dog darted away, running in a few circles before finally stopping at the apartment door, where he stood still, head turning back and forth between the leash on the table and Kelly, who didn’t seem to be moving fast enough for Goober’s liking.

“Okay,” Kelly said, laughing as he pushed himself from the chair. “I’m coming, already. Just let me call Leonard, then we’re out of here.” He doubted the guy would answer, since it was prime school-time, but he could leave voice mail, at least.

Goober didn’t seem happy about the delay, whining louder while Kelly dialed.

“Hold on, Goobs,” Kelly ordered, still chuckling. “God, anyone would think you’ve never been outside before in your life!”

Chapter Nine

Another lie. And I already know how much he likes being fucking lied to. Must be a story there, but fuck it. None of my business. I lied to him again, but it’s in a good cause, and he never needs to know, anyway. I think. Maybe. Fuck, Peter better have something useful to say, starting with why he’s been fucking dodging me, damn it.

That was the plain truth, that last. It had taken a while, but Riley had finally figured out that his uncle was deliberately avoiding talking to him. More than a week without a single returned call? Yeah, something was definitely stinky about that, and Denmark wasn’t even fucking involved.

That wasn’t exactly why Riley was driving to Peter’s summer house in Stamford, but it would work as an excuse. Plus, he actually was curious. Peter had never ducked Riley’s calls before. Even when Peter was out of the country or in areas where there wasn’t much in the way of cell phone reception, the man always got back to him in a couple of days. So, more than a week of silence when there was no obvious reason for the lack of fucking contact? Peter was definitely up to something. Or something was wrong.

The drive usually took just over an hour and a half, but with construction and traffic, it was nearly three o’clock by the time Riley pulled into the drive of his uncle’s waterfront house. Fortunately, he’d managed to make a few calls and light a fire under the ass of the lead contractor for the downstairs apartment. Riley would be incredibly fucking surprised if the bathroom and bedroom weren’t finished by the next day.

There were three cars, other than Peter’s, in the driveway, one of them a brand-new Dodge Charger. As sparkly and shiny as it was, it still looked out of place parked there with Peter’s classic Jaguar, a gun-metal gray Saab, and the low-slung, bright red Tesla. Then again, Riley’s beat-up Bronco looked like a beggar outside of the Hotel Durmont by comparison. A beggar who couldn’t even afford a paper fucking cup, at that.

Riley smirked to himself at the thought.

His footsteps were sure and quick as he strode to the front door of his uncle’s house. Riley wondered for a moment whether he needed to knock, but the door wasn’t actually closed. It was cracked a few inches, letting a steady stream of cool air push out into the waterside humidity, and Riley could hear music, too. Some sort of overly synthesized shit, probably from the eighties or something. It was enough to make him shudder, but not enough to keep him from pushing the door open farther.

“Yo, Peter!” Riley tried, but nobody answered. He shrugged to himself and stepped inside, then closed the door behind him. No point in air conditioning the whole fucking neighborhood, was there? His mom would be proud at having nagged that into his head as a child. “Peter!” he called again, following the music that was joined by voices and laughter the closer he got to the back of the house.

“Hey!” Riley nearly shouted it, standing in the doorway of the so-called great room. Technically, the name was appropriate, because the room really was great. It just wasn’t big enough to count as great-with-a-capital-G, as far as Riley was concerned, but that was something he and Peter had long ago agreed to disagree on. It was big enough for Riley’s uncle and six other dudes to be acting fucking stupid in with room to spare, anyway, so whatever.

One of the men seemed to hear him, or maybe just managed to notice him, because the dude laughed and tossed back whatever the fuck he was drinking. “Looks like the entertainment’s here! You didn’t tell us you hired a stripper, Pete!”

Riley groaned.
Oh, Christ. It’s one of
those
days. Figures.

Another man turned and narrowed his eyes at Riley. He was tall and slender, with long auburn hair down to his butt, deep blue eyes, and wore a goatee with obvious pride. Riley tried a smile and the man frowned. “If you did, you’re in serious trouble,
Pete
,” the man said, still glaring at Riley. “It’s bad enough that you let all these people in, but if you hired someone to strip, I’m out of here.”

That was strange enough that Riley looked closer at the man and saw that he was older than Riley had first thought. The small lines around the man’s eyes and the slight creases beside his mouth seemed to say late thirties, but there was just something about the set of his jaw and the furrows to his brow that suggested a few more years. Not that Riley gave a shit, but he figured he sort of owed the guy because with those words, the music suddenly became quieter. When Riley looked across the room to the area where the stereo equipment had been the last time he’d visited, he found himself meeting Peter’s eyes. Peter’s worried-looking eyes, if Riley didn’t miss his guess.

“I didn’t hire anyone, Dex,” Peter said carefully. “That’s Riley. My sister’s boy. I wasn’t expecting him.” Then Peter quirked a little half-smile at the guy he’d called Dex. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else, either, but you don’t believe that, so I’m not sure what to say.”

Riley’s eyes went wide before he could stop them. Peter sounded... fuck if he didn’t sound like he was trying to placate the dude with the ass-length hair. Shit. Peter never sounded like that. Not that Riley remembered, anyway. “I could shake my ass for a while if you think it’ll help,” he said, trying to defuse the sudden and uncomfortable tension, “but I’m not getting naked. That’d be way too fucking weird, since we’re related and shit. And dude! Tell me why I’m at another party full of gay guys and there still isn’t any fucking Jell-O wrestling or strip-Twister going on. I’m totally starting to doubt everything I’ve heard about how you guys party! It’s fucking depressing. And disappointing. I feel totally fucking let down.”

Peter sighed, long and hard and overly-dramatically. Loud enough that the other guys heard it, because they laughed a little, too. Even Dex laughed, so Riley was good with whatever Peter was about to say.

“You see what I have to deal with?” Peter asked, ignoring Riley for the moment. “He’s not only straight, but he has all these bizarre ideas about what goes on at my parties, even though he’s been to more of them than anyone but me. And apparently
this
party is over, so off with you. I could use a free night anyway. Mañana, hmmm?”

It was amazing to Riley, but nobody grumbled much. They all just finished their drinks, kissed Peter’s cheek, and walked past Riley. And if one or two of them
accidentally
brushed against him and had to steady themselves by grabbing him, well, Riley couldn’t say he was surprised. He also couldn’t manage to muster up any fucking ire. At least he hadn’t needed to strip for them, and that was a plus. Not that Peter would have let that happen, but still. Besides, they were all pretty good looking, so being groped was kind of a compliment. Weird, because the guys knew he was Peter’s nephew, but still complimentary.

Eventually, it was only him and Peter... and Dex. “Uh...” Riley started to say, but Peter shook his head.

“Sorry. Riley, I guess you need to meet Dex. He’s... an old friend who’s staying with me for a while. So what’s going on that you needed to drive all the way out here instead of just calling?”

Riley blinked and moved farther into the room, then leaned against the side of Peter’s big-ass aquarium. “I did call,” he said. “Dude. I’ve called you, like, twenty times, and you never called me the fuck back.”

Peter’s brows shot up and Riley hoped, yet again, that he aged as well. Peter looked his age, but Peter looked
good
. Then Peter’s words registered.

“I haven’t heard from you since you promised to make sure the new tenant got settled in when he arrived. Then he called me and I thought you were out at the gym or working. When did you...”

“That was me.” Dex sounded ashamed but unapologetic, which seemed strange even to Riley. “I’m sorry, Peter. I just... your phone kept beeping for voice mail and it was some guy who sounded young and used far too many curse words, so I deleted them. I thought it was... I don’t know. Some former
fling
.”

And that gave you the right to fucking delete my messages?
Riley frowned.
I don’t even know who the fuck you are and I already don’t like you. How the fuck is it your place to...
and no. No point in keeping it inside his head. He didn’t know this Dex dude, but Riley for damned sure wasn’t taking that kind of shit.

“Look, you --” Riley started, but his uncle’s voice drowned him out.

“No, Dex. No. He’s my sister Maureen’s son. And we’re close. I know... I mean, I thought I’d mentioned him before. I should have reminded you, though.” Peter stopped for a moment, then turned pale. “My God, what you must have thought! But it’s nothing like that. Riley is family. That’s all, Dex.”

Okay, there was something really fucked up about whatever was going on between Peter and Dex. Riley knew it. Hell, he could fucking see it. He just didn’t know what it was, and the way Dex seemed unwilling to leave only made it clear that Riley wasn’t going to be finding out. Not right then, anyway.

The whole weird-ass dynamic he’d already seen was worrisome, but Riley could figure it out later. Right at the moment, he needed to have a talk with his uncle -- the talk he’d driven hours to have -- and Dex or no Dex, Riley wasn’t about to leave without doing just that. So, “I have a problem,” Riley said, ignoring Dex as much as possible. “It’s a relationship thing. Or maybe just a sex thing. Fuck if I know. Uh, it involves a dude.”

The last thing Riley expected to see from the corner of his eye when he made that revelation was Dex’s eyes narrowing even further, but that was exactly what happened. Then Peter laughed, short and sharp, and Riley forgot all about Dex as he told Peter that yes, he was serious, and yes, the dude in question was gay.

It wasn’t a comfortable conversation, by any means, but when Peter suggested that they all go out for cocktails and an early dinner, Riley said yes. He wasn’t sure jeans and a T-shirt were appropriate attire, but he wanted to spend more time with his uncle. Riley suddenly wanted to spend more time with Dex as well. The man clearly had some sort of agenda, and if Peter couldn’t see it, then it was up to Riley to feel the guy out. And get rid of him, if it proved necessary. Nobody fucked with Riley’s family, not even so-called
old friends
, which Riley was pretty sure was Peter-code for
old
lovers
.

***

They’d had a good run, he and Goobs. Kelly had even met the Hendersons Riley had mentioned, and the couple’s kids, Samuel and Belinda. The kids were cute, and he had a feeling the little girl was going to grow into one hell of a beauty. The boy, all rough and tumble in the yard with Goober, would likely break a few hearts, too, in time. They seemed like a nice enough family, in any case, and Goober did enjoy playing with the kids.

Kelly chuckled as he and Goobs made their way home, trying to imagine his own mother letting some big, strange, smelly dog play with Robin and Mandy. His imagination fell short, right after picturing the incredibly disgusted expression she would have worn at the very notion. His mother’s idea of playing involved classes and very structured activities. Just running around in the yard with a dog wouldn’t have been even slightly acceptable, especially if that dog was Goober.

It wasn’t that his mother disliked Goobs, Kelly reminded himself, but that she preferred smaller, more inbred canines. She’d been horrified when she’d seen Goober for the first time, though he’d been less than three months old then.

“Wouldn’t you rather have something less... common, Kelly?” she’d said then. “You know Doug and I would be happy to get you a real dog, if you truly want one. Maybe a greyhound, if you insist upon something large. I understand they can be very loyal companions.”

Kelly had shrugged and watched his puppy tear through an old shoe. “Goober’s a good dog, Mom. He’s a fighter. Even the vet didn’t expect him to live, but he’s doing fine now. And I like him.”

God, Lily Roderick had the put-upon sigh down to an art form. “Please tell me I won’t be turning on the television one day to hear you’ve been arrested with one of those dog-fighting rings. I don’t think I could bear it.”

It had taken a few minutes to explain what he’d meant when he’d called Goober a fighter, but once his mom understood, she’d been horrified again, this time that anyone could be so evil as to abandon an entire litter of puppies to die in a box. “Well, you’ll take good care of him, I’m sure,” she’d said, apparently accepting Goober completely once she understood how many decks had been stacked against him. “You might consider a different name, though. Something less... ridiculous. How about Percy?”

Kelly’s laugh was sudden and loud enough that Goober had looked away from his thoroughly killed shoe -- it definitely wouldn’t be going anywhere on its own -- and barked. Then the puppy stumble-ran in a circle, tongue hanging out, before returning to gnawing the poor shoe into further submission. Mom had laughed, too.

“All right,” she had finally agreed. “It’s a silly name, but ‘Goober’ is entirely fitting. It suits him. And now, I’ll be on my way, dear. I’m meeting Lucinda Barrett at the Cornelius Spa. Her daughter still asks about you, you know.”

Kelly had rolled his eyes. “Mom!” He stretched it into three syllables. “Let it go, okay? I’m gay. I’ve always been gay, and I’ll always
be
gay. And I like Clarissa, but it’s never going to happen.”

Another put-upon sigh, but Mom’s eyes had sparkled. “Well, I’m fairly sure Les and Billie Clancey’s boy, William, swings your way. I could find out whether he’s still single, if you like.”

Yeah, that was his mother, Kelly thought with a grin as he and Goobs trotted around the corner toward the old Victorian. She had the whole dichotomy thing down to an art form, just like her various sighs. It was actually kind of cool. She would still never have let Robin and Mandy -- or Kelly, when he’d still been young and lived at home -- play with some strange mutt, though. Then again, her insistence on structured activities was exactly why Kelly had pursued martial arts, and he loved what he did. He would love it even more once he started teaching at the school.