Page 35 of Hush
Mike crouched down and petted her again. Etta Mae rolled over and spread her legs, begging for a belly rub.
Tom was jealous. He was so very, very jealous.
One of Mike’s friends, the one Mike had wrapped up in a hug, peered at them. He had a bandana rolled up and knotted around his forehead and his brown hair was artfully spiked on top of his head. Effortless athletic chic. Sophistication. He looked great, so much more amazing than Tom’s boring polo and khaki shorts. His ass also looked stunning, unlike Tom’s. God, he was old.
Mike’s friend jogged for them, his long legs gleaming in the sunlight, sun-kissed skin winking beneath his knotted tank top. He pulled up next to Mike and leaned one arm on his shoulder as Mike stood. “Hey,” he said, looking Tom up and down. His voice, his tone, said so much more than hello. “I’m Kris.” Kris held out his hand, delicately.
Tom took it, smiling politely. “Tom. Nice to meet you.”
“Trust me, the pleasure is mine.” Kris winked.
Mike elbowed Kris in his ribs and turned sharply to his friend. He shook his head, quick, violent shakes that saidno, no, stop flirting. Kris frowned at him and pulled his chin back, arching one delicate eyebrow.
Mike spoke quickly. “It was nice seeing you—”
“Are you a friend of Mike’s?” Kris talked right over Mike, stepping away from him and toward Tom. “Cute dog. He’s a hoot.”
“She.” Tom grinned. Etta Mae was back on her butt, watching everything around them, sniffing the air. “And we work together.”
“Ooo, are you a lawman like him? Big, bad U.S. marshal?”
“Kris—”
Laughing, Tom shook his head. “No, I’m—”
“He’s a lawyer.” Mike jumped in, answering for Tom. “We work at the courthouse together.”
Kris’s gaze bounced from Mike to Tom and back again. “Well, you must be one of the good guys, then,” Kris said slowly. “Mikeonlylikes the prosecutors.”
Mike sighed and shook his head, his hands on his hips. Tom smiled. “That’s good to know. And yes, I was in the U.S. Attorney’s Office.”
“Definitely one of the good guys.” Kris winked, a saucy little smile playing on his lips. “Want to join us? We don’t have enough for a full game, but we’re making do—”
“I’m sure he doesn’t want to play with us, Kris—”
“I’d love to!”
Awkward, awkward silence. Kris turned a droll stare to Mike, arching both eyebrows high on his forehead.
“Kris, could you give us a minute?” Mike crossed his arms and stared at his friend, a silent glare hidden by his shades.
“Yeah, sure…” Kris waved, a little wiggle of his fingertips. “Nice meeting you, handsome.” He trotted off, his ass pushing out just a little bit.
Handsome. Huh. Tom puffed out his chest, just a bit. He hadn’t been called handsome… ever. There’d been no one to say it to him. Something tickled his soul, though, some kind of light and pride. Someone, some man thought he was attractive. Kris wasn’t his type, but he wasn’t going to turn down a compliment.
“Sorry,” Mike sighed, groaning. “Kris can be incorrigible. He’s a maneater. He doesn’t know you’re straight. He’s just making assumptions.” He shook his head. “Please don’t be offended.”
I’m not straight. I’m not straight at all. I loved that, that was the first time I’ve felt like a real man in years—Mike’s words caught up with his misfiring brain. “I’m not offended.”
Mike smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “Thanks.” He chewed on his lip. “You’re… welcome to stay, I mean, you can totally play. I just didn’t think you’d want to.” He shrugged again, lopsidedly. “We’re all gay, I mean. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
He’d never wanted something more in his life. A group of gay men, friends, a day in the sun. Could he make friends with these guys, join in the effortless fun, the happiness? Could he steal some of that joy for himself? “I’d love to stay.” A new worry chewed on his brain, munching at the base of his skull. “If that’s okay with you,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to intrude.” His eyes searched Mike’s group of friends, clustered around Kris now, chatting and making no attempt to hide that they were watching him and Mike.
Which one of those men was Mike’s boyfriend? Which one had he been ditched for last night?
“You’re not intruding. C’mon.” Mike beckoned him over to the group. “Etta Mae can chill with Aaron and Carlos.” He pointed to a blanket stretched out on the lawn, set away from their game. Two men were laid out, shirtless, their skin gleaming with a sheen of oil, shorts hiked up to show off all of their thighs. They were obviously tanning, soaking up the sun. Mike introduced them. “Carlos,” he said, pointing to the shorter of the two, a Hispanic man with a close-cropped haircut, tight, slender muscles, and no body hair. “And Aaron.” Aaron was taller, a runner with grasshopper legs and arms, pale as cream, with a few sprigs of chest hair valiantly trying to poke their way out of the center of his chest. “This is Tom.”
They both eyed him, Aaron even raising his sunglasses to get a better look. Etta Mae trampled them both, crawling over the two men like they were puppies she was destined to play with. Carlos sputtered, but Aaron cooed, baby-talking Etta Mae as her tail went wild.
