A New Dream [Dreams: 1]

Read A New Dream [Dreams: 1] Online

Authors: Alex C. Clarke

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BOOK: A New Dream [Dreams: 1]
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A
N
ew
D
ream

 

A
lex
C
.
C
larke

 

Copyright ©: Alex C. Clarke, 2015

Copyright © Simply Defined Art: Jay Aheer, 2015

 

 

All rights reserved

This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission by the copyright holder.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

 

Warning

This book contains sexually explicit content and is suited for adult readers only.

 

Trademark acknowledgment:

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of all the marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

 

 

A
cknowledgments

 

There are so many people I want to thank, it would take too long and a whole book, just for that! I hope I won’t forget anyone.

In the French version of this book, my first thought was for my family who’s been a great support to me. My beta reader, my dear mom, has been very brave to cope with my work, for she’s the one who got to read the draft of this book, again and again, until it was as perfect as it could get. And she had never read an M/M romance before, so it was really brave of her ☺ Merci encore Maman! Je t’aime. ♥

I first published this book in French for free on Wattpad, and then took the next step with Amazon. I wouldn’t have done it without the support of the first followers there. Thanks!

I need to give a mother-bear hug to Jay Aheer who did a great job with the cover. Jay, you’ve supported me in so many ways that it’s almost impossible to say it all here! If you don’t know her work, you can discover it there:
Simply Defined Art

I’d like to thank Rick Bettencourt for his insight and his help about life in Boston. It’s difficult to write about a city you’ve never been to. He was able to answer my never-ending questions with great patience. Thanks Rick!

To my sisters and brothers in writing: Meg Amor, Anne Bock, Lea Bronsen, Amanda Eisenthal, Brandi Evans, Megan Field, Aeryn Jaden, Lily Lamb, Sage Marlowe, Jaclyn Osborn, Mikey Rakes, and all of my friends who supported me and asked for the English translation. Your willingness to read my book, even sometimes in French, with difficulties, has encouraged me to translate it. So, to all of you, here it is, thanks to you!!

Finally, I would like to say a special thank you to Petra Howard. I would have done none of this if it had not been with your precious help. You’re an amazing friend and the best editor I could have hoped for.
Dank je wel, lieverd
!

 

To Laurent and Ludovic.

May your story find a happy end like this one.

 

 

 

B
lurb

 

A
fter his wife Suzanne passed away in a car accident, David slowly retreated into depression. Three years later, he decides to leave France for Boston for a complete life makeover. He hangs up his lawyer three-piece suit to become a bar manager. On the plane, he meets James, co-owner of the bar.

James is a former Marine, a very gay one – tattooed, muscled, and yummy. The problem is, David would like to explore the feelings he has for his boss, but… James doesn’t do feelings. At all. Like, never.

Well, never say never…

 

 

 

C
hapter 1 –
D
avid:
Take-off

 

 

“L
ast call for flight 714-51 to Boston Logan, departure scheduled at 10:35 am,”

David grabbed his hand luggage and reached for his e-ticket as he headed for the boarding desk. As the hostess scanned the QR code, he looked around the departure lounge. It was packed―as was usual for this time of day―with men in dark, silky suits, glowering as they typed furiously on their iPads, their Bluetooth devices glued to their ears. Women rushed by in their high heels, raincoats hanging from their arms. They wore discreet but conspicuously expensive jewelry with hints of pearl and diamond, square-rimmed glasses and tight French twists. Workaholics―each and every one of them in a rush; addicted to their jobs, and probably unable to stop for a moment to enjoy their lives.

David used to be one of them. He and his wife died in a car accident. Except,
he
had come back when she didn't. For three years, he dragged himself along. Unable to find his place in society, in the company he worked for as a corporate lawyer or in his own house with their children. Jules and Jenny, their twins, had been fifteen when their mother died. But, Jules had finished his mechanics course and he had found a job in their village's agricultural garage while Jenny was working in a childcare facility on a work and training program.

The twins had grown ever closer since their mother had passed away. Living together in the house he and Suzanne had bought years ago, the mortgage long since paid in full and surrounded by good friends and family. Suzanne's life insurance had funded David's medical care and her funeral, there were no outstanding debts and the children had settled in their respective careers. He knew he didn't have to worry about them. Besides, they were good kids, sensible and strong. But, when he had told them that he was about to go to the US, the conversation had not been easy.

“Dad, you can’t do that to us right now! We just found some balance.” Jenny shouted, her voice shaky with fury.

“Jen, I'm not doing this to upset you. I can't stand it here anymore, that's all,” David replied wearily. He was tired of always having to explain everything.

“But Dad…”

“Jen, you know Dad's not happy here, not in the house or at work. It's just too sad for him and it reminds him too much of Mom”. Jules was always the calmer, more even-tempered of the two. He balanced his sister's temper and he was the one able to reach her and appease a situation. Suzanne and David used to call him the negotiator.

“Well, okay then, but to quit your life here and go into exile on the other side of the planet? I don’t think it’s cool! You think it’s okay, Jules?” She exclaimed.

“Jenny, lovey, I'm not leaving you, per se”, her father interjected, “I'm leaving France, the village, the house, and a job that is stifling me. I don't recognize myself. I need to see if the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. You can come and visit me when I'm settled in, just as I can come back here if I don't like it there. Or if the grass isn't greener after all,” he grinned. “Besides, your godmother is here to keep an eye on you. You all live in the same village. Lisa will be here to fix the problems I can't deal with from a distance.”

Placating Jenny was never easy but, in the end, she'd always think and listen to reason.

“Yeah, okay I know we can count on her, you know I love her. But you’d better switch on your laptop everyday for chats via Skype, if you don’t want to see me showing up one morning with all my gear to check if everything is alright, okay?”

They had gone for a huge family hug and, even if Jenny wasn’t happy with the idea of her father miles away, she understood his desire to find his happiness outside the country.

On the jet bridge that led him to the plane, David glanced one last time through the windows at the tarmac. The landing strip lay in front of him as the golden rays of the sun brushed the clouds. Taking a deep breath, he carried on walking as he was rushed by workaholics stressing over who could find their allocated seats first and who would manage to check their emails before being forced to shut down their Internet connections.

Holding on to his boarding pass, David slowed his pace once more, dizzied by the chain of events which were leading him to Boston. It had been a matter of fate. Two years ago in October, as he was slowly sinking in the downward spiral of depression, he had seen a fascinating advert. A lottery had been organized, but not some bingo in the local village hall. No! The Green Card Lottery; winning it authorized you to live and work in the US. It had been less than a year since Suzanne had died and every day brought its own amount of fights with it. They were dark times and all he wanted to do was join his Suzanne in the welcoming arms of the Reaper. In the spur of the moment, he deposited his application and didn't think of it again. Until he received a reminder the following spring to check the results. To his utter astonishment, he had done it. He, who had never won anything, had won the Green Card Lottery.

At first he had been too stunned to react, but he had granted himself time to think it through. Then, he allowed himself to dream about it. Could he genuinely have another life abroad? Would he be able to find himself there? Not convinced that he would find something, he had started applying for jobs. When he received a job offer, he permitted himself to dream a bit further. But now he was about to dive head first into the unknown, leaving behind all he had ever had, all he had ever known, to make a new start. Unnerving and exciting at the same time.

He showed his e-ticket to the flight attendant standing at the entrance of the plane. Her 5.7 ft body, wrapped tightly in the dark blue uniform that showed off her considerable cleavage and her shapely legs, could have held some appeal to him. If it hadn't been for a smile so cold it sent shivers down his spine. She made him think of an Ice Queen. Her appraising eyes made him feel uncomfortable and he smiled back reluctantly as she showed him to his seat. He sensed the weight of her look on the back of his neck as he turned to place his hand luggage in the overhead compartment. He was always flabbergasted when women eyed him shamelessly. He knew he wasn’t bad looking, but his sparkle never shone with those women. He had dark hair, short on the sides but a little longer on top, with waves that would turn to curls if he wore it any longer; he looked like Hugh Grant in Four Weddings and a Funeral. His bright eyes, depending on his mood and the light either grey or blue, were alluring and with all of his 6.2 ft, he cut a fine figure. He was lean but muscled, resembling a swimmer or a runner. Not that he worked out anymore, he hated to go to the local  gym and see the look of pity on people’s faces, who considered him the poor widow who survived the car accident that killed his wife.

He had stopped going out in public places all at once, locking himself in a routine that led him to work crazy hours. He would come home late, crash on the sofa and watch the huge TV screen without ever actually seeing it. It wasn't a life worth living, even for him. He kept so much imprisoned in his heart and in his head... things that would keep him awake at nights, haunting him like a never-ending nightmare. He was afraid of sleeping, as much as he was of living, he couldn't take this life anymore. He wanted to see something else, to see if, maybe, he could
be
someone else, something other than this ghost he was slowly transforming into. A new start. A new him. A new dream.

After he had put his luggage away, he took his seat at the window. Together with the iPod he had brought, containing his favorite music, it would be the perfect distraction during the flight. He'd been tempted to leave everything behind, but he loved music too much to do that. He had only taken a minimum of clothes with him, some jeans and tees, a couple of button-down shirts and his choice Tom Ford suit from back in the day when he was still a lawyer. It was a, vaguely iridescent, dark grey suit with a purple shirt and matching tie. He was going for a new life in Boston, but there was no reason to look like a dork and shame his home country. If he needed anything else, he could ask his kids to send him the rest of his clothes. But, theoretically, his new life didn’t include wearing expensive suits in his everyday life.

He was flicking through the pages of the magazine that had been stuck to the seat in front of him, not really taking anything in, when he felt someone’s presence at his side. A muscled stomach, covered in light blond hair, a fine trail leading the way down to tight, clear blue, jeans that hugged muscled thighs. At 6.6 ft, he stood a touch taller than David, but, as he put his suitcase in the compartment David had put his own bags in, the movement lifted up the hem of his white, short-sleeved shirt, showing off his skin.

David blushed. A runaway thought had crossed his mind, the kind of thought he used to have about women. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The man took the seat next to him and held out a solid hand, the same golden fur he had on his stomach faintly dusting the back.

“Hi there. I’m James. You are?”

David stared for a moment at the stunning hand on offer before he pulled himself together and shook it.

“David. Nice to meet you.” A smile crept over his lips when he looked at his fellow traveler’s face for the first time.

James had a friendly face with a dimple in his right cheek and eyes a shade of grey so dark they almost looked black. His reddish blond hair, cut short on the sides and a little longer on top, was carefully styled to look disheveled. It looked as if he had just rolled out of bed and had stuck his head under the water tap. Somewhat out of breath, his chest heaved under his tight shirt. David could see a tattoo on his right arm, the exact image a mystery as it was partially hidden under the taut fabric. He felt the urge to rip the shirt off to see what else was hidden under…
Mais ça va pas non?! What’s wrong with you?

David got himself under control when he saw James's sparkling eyes scrutinizing him.
Did I talk out loud? Have I made a fool of myself? Or did he just ask something?

“I’m going to Boston” he uttered, hating the quaver in his voice.

“Yeah,” James remarked, near enough blinding David as his white teeth were bared in a wide grin. “It’s often the case when you take a flight to Boston.”

“Huh, yeah. I mean, yes, of course I’m going to Boston, but I mean, huh…”
Shut the fuck up, you idiot,
David chastised himself. “Anyway, it’s my final destination. You?” he asked, blushing like crazy.

“Yeah, me too. I’m going home, for the first time in five years.”

“Five years? What kept you from home so long? I mean, don’t bother to answer if it’s none of my business. Not a problem if you don’t want to answer that.”

Oh, mon Dieu…
David wished he could crawl under a ton of rocks right about now. He’d never been that embarrassed in front of anyone. Usually confident and at ease in society, where was his old self?

“No, it’s okay. Actually I was a Marine but I’ve been demobilized because of a knee injury. I stayed in France for a couple of days to visit some friends from back in the days when I studied here.” James stated simply.

“Oh, what did you study?”

“International Law at Paris-Sorbonne. I liked it, but it wasn't a passion. I didn’t want to become a lawyer, but I didn’t know what else to do. I went home for Christmas and I saw that the Marine Corps was recruiting. I applied and I’ve been in there ever since.” James' voice was low and husky. For the second time since he had boarded the plane, shivers coursed down David's spine.

“How long since you enlisted?”

“I was 22 and I’m 35, so… thirteen years. Wow, I didn’t see that coming! I feel old right now.” James lowered his head thoughtfully as his face clouded over for a few seconds. His smile returned as he looked back up at David. “Anyway, it’s time to start over again. What about you? Your English is quite good. I love your accent.” he added with a crooked smile.

Is he hitting on me? No way, he’s just friendly…
David fidgeted in his seat.

“Well, thanks. As a matter of fact, I’ve always loved talking in English, even if nobody in my family spoke it. I’ve always loved words and playing with them. Hence a lawyer career. I’m a kind of a word geek” David smiled.”As for the accent, honestly I hate it. I’d rather speak such perfect English that no-one could say I’m French.” He chuckled.

“Oh no, it’s far too cute, don’t bother hiding it.” James smiled again.

David didn't reply, letting the silence settle for a moment. At last, he decided to go with a different question.

“What are you going to do now that you’re demobilized?”

James sighed.”I’ve got a friend with whom I invested in a project. We’re hoping to earn some money with it.”

“Oh, you’re gonna be living on your savings then?” David asked, trying to stifle his half smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be a rich annuitant!” James chuckled. “If this business actually works. I like the theory of the idea, but I don’t know if I can stay at home without anything to do. I’ve always been on the move; I’m not the stay-at-home kind of guy! But, it will do for now. What about you? What will you do in Boston?” James asked.

It was David's turn to sigh. “I’m going to start a new life as well. It’s an old dream come true. Well, I hope so.” He fell silent, wondering how far he could go in his explanation. “My wife died three years ago.” He continued hesitantly. “We were both working as corporate lawyers for the same small company. I couldn't stand being there anymore. My kids are almost adults now and they can handle themselves, so I’m trying to travel a bit more.”

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