Page 86 of Sass in the Grass

Jovian almost swallowed his tongue. The man was tall, muscled, ginger-haired, with bright green eyes, and so hot, Jovian wanted to moan.

“That’s…that’s okay. Um…are you the one that used to own…” How did he say it? What with a little kid running around?

“One of the clubs? It’s okay to say the name. They don’t know what it is. And, yes, I was the owner of two clubs.”

Jovian sighed, “Thank goodness. You never know what you might find out here.”

As the man’s brows drew and his head cocked to the side, he asked, “Excuse me?”

“Oh, not you! You can tell by the house that you’re…I mean…”

Another man came to the door, asking the tall red-haired man, “Who’s here, Travis?” He was, well, just as hot as the ginger, only he had long black hair and his face was perfectly shaped with high, sharp cheekbones and a beautiful wide mouth.

“Some guy looking for a former club owner.”

“Sorry! I’m Jovian Masseretti, and I need some help.”

“Well, I’m Lonnie Walton. This is my husband, Travis, and I’m inviting you inside, Jovian Masseretti.”

He was led inside a gorgeous living room, complete with a fireplace within a rock wall that went up the twenty-foot ceiling.

The sofas were light beige and leather, and the wood floors positively glowed with shining from being polished.

“Come, sit,” Travis Walton said and waved a hand to the sofas. “Would you like some coffee or tea or something?”

“No, thank you. I have to get back, so I’m sorry if the small talk will be little.”

They sat across from him, taking each other’s hand, like they were newlyweds. Lonnie asked, “Back to where?”

“I’m staying right now at this camp up north, about eighty miles from here. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“The camp? I’ve never been to one,” Travis said.

“This camp is…it’s for people, gay, queer, trans and all that, who don’t have a lot of community wherever they live. For sixweeks, they get to have one, and they make friends, and me, well, I was sent there…it’s a long story, but everyone else, they need it. Understand?”

“Not a word,” Travis said, but Lonnie gently slapped his arm.

“Stop, Travis.”

“Well, did you?”

Lonnie ignored that and asked Jovian, “It’s a camp for people to connect. Kids?”

“No! No, these are all adults. I know that makes it less…I don’t know, but they’re all good people and it’s really sad.”

“What’s really sad, honey?”

“Oh! Well, they can’t pay the mortgage, and this church camp wants to pay off the note at the bank and take over the camp, so…none of the people there will have a place to go, even for a few weeks.”

Lonnie nodded and Travis said, “Okay, got that part. So…why are you coming to former club owners?”

“I can’t talk to the new owner of Chaps.”

They both sighed and nodded. Travis said, “Bueller. Armand Bueller is his name, and I’ve heard that a lot. Former employees of ours that we’re still great friends with whom all still live in Denver. Well, they’ve filled us in. I take it the employees still there or have been hired since run the place.”

“I don’t know about all that, but for something like I’m thinking, I’d need permission or help to get it from the owner or the manager, and they’re both out of the picture until it will be too late.”

“When is too late?” Lonnie asked.

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