Page 5 of Last Resort

Ben stretched up to lick the spunk from Erik’s throat and then kissed him so that Erik could taste himself on Ben’s tongue.

“Love you too,” Ben managed in a fucked-out growl. He went to the bathroom to clean off and returned with a wet cloth to wipe Erik down, then tossed the washcloth toward the door and pulled the covers up over both of them.

“Thanks for making me feel at home.” Ben rested his head on Erik’s shoulder.

Erik wrapped his arms around Ben. “That’s because youarehome. We’re home when we’re together.”

As he drifted off to sleep, Ben thought about the poker chips. He tightened his grip on Erik and sent a silent wish to anyone listening to keep his lover safe.

TWO

ERIK

Erik saw Ben off to work with a kiss and a slap on the ass after waking him up with a “good morning” hand job.

He lingered over a cup of coffee since his “commute” involved a single flight of stairs. Erik replayed the events of the night before, not just the pleasure but the look in Ben’s eyes, the way it felt to be the focus of his intense attention, the sound of his voice.

I thought I was in love before, but that was nothing like this.When he left Atlanta, Erik thought his world had come to an end, disillusioned and heartbroken, only to discover the chance to make something much better here.

He thought about the chaos of moving Ben into the apartment and their odd mix of décor. A very small part of him chafed a little at the disruption. There were parts of living alone—like getting his way about everything since there was no one else to consider—that were easy. He forgot the effort that went into compromise. But he had meant what he’d told Ben—having them live together outweighed any minor adjustments.

Will we drive each other nuts? Have I gotten too set in my ways? Will all those endearing “quirks” we both have become annoying as hell now that we’re together all the time?

Erik reached out and picked up a coaster that had been part of Ben’s kitchen supplies. The resonance of Ben’s energy immediately enfolded him, a calming and supportive vibe.

That’s why I know he’s “it” for me. It’s never been like that with anyone else. So I’m going to pull on my big boy pants and do whatever I need to do to make this last.

He still had more than an hour before the shop opened, so he refilled his mug and powered up his laptop. Erik logged into his blog, appropriately named Treasure Trail, and glanced at the comments on his most recent post, then sat back and thought about what he wanted to write.

When he moved to Cape May, Erik had nixed the opportunity to do a television show with the local PBS station about antiques. He hadn’t forgotten that his work with law enforcement had made him some powerful enemies who were bound to hold grudges. That hadn’t forced him into WITSEC—although the idea had been seriously suggested more than once—but in order to stay alive and keep his freedom, Erik voluntarily chose to keep a relatively low profile.

The blog was a compromise. He drew on his experience authenticating and appraising artwork, gearing the site toward collectors and serious decorators who valued history and provenance. The most popular posts invited readers to ask questions or post photos for discussion, like an unofficial onlineAntiques Roadshow.

Erik only did appraisals by appointment, but he could usually help fill in the blanks about the various pieces posted in the comments, giving the owners a better sense of whether the item might be truly valuable or was only important for sentimental reasons. His blog also kept him in front of collectors and decorators who were potential year-round customers after the tourists went home.

The odd poker chips sparked inspiration, and Erik decided to write about collectible amusement park souvenirs. New Jersey had been home to some of the oldest and most famous parks in the country, and while many of those venues had closed over the years, the legends and memories lived on in the memorabilia.

Palisades Park might have been gone for fifty years, but it was immortalized in a song that still played on the radio. Action Park remained infamous for its extreme thrill rides and questionable safety record. Olympic Park had been gone for decades, but its carousel got a new lease on life at Disney World.

Erik felt his enthusiasm rise as he wrote about the common and uncommon souvenirs that were all that were left of many parks. Ashtrays, trivets, mugs, and T-shirts vied with pressed pennies, wooden nickels, postcards, and etched glassware. Some fans even bought ride cars, merry-go-round horses, signage, and decorations from defunct parks.

He explained how the memorabilia was appraised, cautioning readers that most items held little monetary value although could be important for family or local history. Then on a whim, he asked readers for their memories about several now-closed parks that had once been in the Cape May area, including Fun Factory.

“Even if it doesn’t turn up anything useful, it’ll be a good discussion,” he muttered as he uploaded his post. Fall was the tail end of tourist season, and he figured the post would remind readers of sunny days from past summers.

His phone reminded him that it was time to open the shop. Erik turned his laptop off before heading to unlock the door. Susan arrived moments later.

“It’s definitely getting chilly out there.” She shouldered out of her jacket and headed for the break room. Erik got the register ready while Susan brewed a fresh pot of coffee, which filled the air with its aroma.

“Do we have any amusement park pieces?” Erik asked when she returned to the front of the shop.

She chuckled. “Been thinking about those poker chips, haven’t you?”

“Prompted a blog post, so that’s already valuable,” he admitted. “And it gave me an excuse to ask if anyone had heard of Fun Factory, among other long-ago parks. Having the chips show up just seems too strange to be random.”

“Maybe not for anyone else, but for you—yes,” Susan agreed. “And I think the idea of putting out a blog post is perfect. You ought to pop in on Jaxon and see what he knows.”

“Ben and I were just talking about that. Let’s see how the day goes, and I’ll find a way to fit in a visit today or tomorrow.”

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