Bitter Taffy (12 page)

Adam grunted next to him. “That sounds like sugar shock waiting to happen.”

“Rico’s not that sweet,” Derek said smartly, taking three of the root beer sticks.

Adam shook his head and looked at Darrin. “My treat,” he said gruffly, and Darrin nodded promptly, ringing it up.

“Wait, no—” Derek protested, while Rico said, “Adam, we didn’t—”

Adam shook his head and pulled a small brown bag out of his back pocket. “Have a sweet day,” he ordered, putting the candy in the bag. “Now go eat lunch. You’re making me remember something about a Giants game, you assholes, and I don’t want to dream about a day off if I don’t got one.”

“Yeah, well, Giants game still on the table,” Rico said, clasping hands with Adam and bringing him in for the chest bump.

“Damned straight. Now go the fuck away.”

“Of course,” Derek conceded, taking the bag from him. “I hear you. Going. Thanks, Darrin!”

Darrin did the finger-wave thing at them. “Have a sweet day!” he chimed. “Rico? Not tonight, but soon.”

Derek pulled him out of the store and onto Front Street before Rico could ask what that meant.

“God,” he muttered, trotting next to Derek as they crossed the street. “I don’t even know how he works there. I mean that place is so surreal, and Adam is so…
Adam
.”

Derek laughed slightly. “Yeah, Adam is something. Was he that plainspoken as a little kid?”

Rico swallowed a lump in his throat. “No, that’s just what you get when you survive the shit he’s survived. I… I wish I could be strong like Adam.”

“Yeah?” Derek paused as they came up the stairs of the next boardwalk. “Why?”

Rico shook his head, unwilling to put it into words.

“No,” Derek said, taking his hand and pulling him down to one of the wooden benches set every so often down the boardwalk. He pulled out a cherry candy stick and handed it over. “Here. Let’s eat our candy first. Then, when our insulin levels drop dangerously, we can go have some veggies and protein.”

“I’m still waiting for this mysterious baseball game,” Rico said suspiciously.

“Well, the training is going on all day, but the game starts in a few hours. So, you know—we got time.” Meticulously, Derek shoved the cellophane wrapper down his root beer candy stick and popped it in his mouth, pulled it slowly out, and grinned like a little boy. “So, tell me.”

Rico followed his example, shoving the cellophane down and then licking from the cellophane to the tip. He caught Derek’s avid look and his face heated again. “That’s why,” he said after he swallowed the cherry flavor down.

“What’s why?” Derek asked, just as quietly.

“’Cause he got his heart broke again and again, and he still managed to pop up. It’s brave. I’m… God, I want to be brave for you.”

And he did.

Companion, boss—Rico just
liked
Derek so much, and with Derek’s mischievous grin and the way his eyes crinkled, Rico
yearned
to kiss him, taste the root beer in his mouth, lick the bit of sugar off the corner of his lips.

But he couldn’t. Because when he closed his eyes, he saw Ezra back in his blue spring-weight jacket, the bodyguard at his side.

He saw the good-bye in Ezra’s eyes as he put the envelope of lies in his hand.

He remembered Christmas morning, when he’d woken up in another man’s bed for the first time and had dared to dream that he’d be out and proud and fuck the rest of the world, just like Adam. And how he’d sat at the Kellermans’ table during Passover, had wine poured in his name as the Stranger, and how Ezra hadn’t looked at him once the entire evening.

How, even before Ezra and his father had burst into that meeting, he’d known, somehow
known
, that if Ezra had to choose between his father and Rico, he’d choose his father every time.

Or even just the one time.

The important time.

“No need to be brave today,” Derek said and sucked on his candy again. But without the crinkle at his eyes and the mischievous grin, it didn’t look sexual at all.

“No?” Rico asked hopefully.

“Naw. No bravery. We’re going out to lunch and watching a game. Bravery can come later.”

Rico smiled. The sun was warming Derek’s hair, bringing out the gold that couldn’t be seen inside the office, showing his age, which wasn’t youthful, like Ezra, but in his early thirties. Derek smiled back, the root beer candy halfway in his mouth, the cellophane-wrapped end hanging out.

“No bravery is fine,” Rico said quietly. “’Cause I’m feeling too lazy to conquer the world.”

Derek nodded, eyes half closing against the weight of the sun. “That’s the spirit. Nothing has to shake the world today.”

“But someday,” Rico found himself promising rashly.

Derek’s smile widened, and although his eyes remained hooded, that smile looked dangerous, like a lion’s smile as he lies in the sun, dreaming of meat. “I’ll hold you to that,” he promised back.

They didn’t say much more as they finished off their candy, lost in thoughts of sun and meat.

F
OOD
,
COMPANY
,
baseball—and sunblock, Derek didn’t even forget sunblock. How could it get any better?

They left the car parked in front of the boardwalk after lunch (since they’d been lucky enough to get a nonmetered spot) and walked over the bridge to Raley Field. Rico paused for a moment right over the river and looked out over the
Delta King
, the riverboat that housed a restaurant and a hotel. Classically white, a riverboat with a giant paddle wheel, it was as iconic to the riverfront as the bridge he was standing on.

The heat of the spring sun baked into them for a moment, and Rico shaded his eyes and lifted his face to the wind.

“You forget,” he said after a minute. “It’s so small. When I lived here, it was the center of the universe. I got to Manhattan and realized how small this city is, and now that I’m back—”

“You think it’s small time and can’t wait to get back?” Derek asked, something sharp and edgy under his voice—almost defensive, really.

“No,” Rico said honestly. “Not at all. I think… I think it fits me.”

The lines around Derek’s jaw relaxed, and he turned to Rico with a smile that almost glowed. “Good,” he said softly. “Let’s go buy us some hats.”

He started walking across the bridge again, and Rico had to struggle to catch up. “Some hats?”

“Yeah—I forgot my baseball cap, and you’re still getting pink. We need some hats.”

“That’s… uhm, abrupt.”

Derek shrugged, his movements overcasual. “Yeah, but, uhm, I was going to kiss you, and no matter how much we like it here, this isn’t a great city for that.”

Rico swallowed and remembered that moment with the wind in Derek’s sandy hair and the almost shy way his lips curved up into a smile. “That’s too bad,” he said, voice rasping in his throat. “I, uhm, would have kissed you back.”

Derek looked at him, nibbling his lower lip like a teenager. “Good. I’ll have to remember that when I take you home.”

The practice was almost over when they arrived, but they did get to see the players gather near the rail to sign balls for kids before they got called in to put on their uniforms. During the wait they listened to live music, saw performances by local school dance teams, and enjoyed—lived through—a mass choir presentation by the Northern California Honor Choir. Derek bought them hats from the team store almost as soon as they arrived, and then hauled Rico to the beer garden, where they debated light beer and lager and looked out at the proceedings with gentle humor.

“Oh,” Rico said, wincing when the honor choir soloist missed her high note. “Oh no. She’s not going to recover from that.”

They both sat on tenterhooks as the song went to another high place, and this time she took a deep breath and locked her hands over her tightened midriff and hit that out of the park.

Rico and Derek participated in the gentle swell of applause that rolled out in support.

“You didn’t think she could make it,” Derek said, something about his blue eyes serious.

“It’s hard to recover from a screwup,” Rico confessed, peeling the wrapper from the front of the bottle absently.

“Is that what you think New York was?”

Rico looked up at him quickly. His blue eyes were kind, yes, but intent. “It was….” Rico smiled. “A learning experience,” he said at last. “One I think I’m still learning from.”

“Hm.” Derek tipped back his beer and finished it off, then held out his hand for Rico’s. “One more?”

Rico shook his head. “Giant water,” he said honestly. The sunshine and the fresh air made him not want to be buzzed and sleepy.

“Yeah, me too. I’ll be back.”

He got back and they talked of other things, the time passing as quickly as it had during lunch. When the two teams came out to play, they weren’t buzzed in the least, and moving to their seats proved a good opportunity to stretch their legs.

The River Cats beat the Tacoma Rainiers 3-2, with two runs in the bottom of the ninth inning, and by the time the game wrapped, the sky had turned a deep spring purple and Rico was wishing he’d brought a sweatshirt. They were on their way out when Derek claimed to be running to the bathroom.

He came back with two zip-up hoodies in River Cats maroon, and Rico took one in embarrassment. “That’s sweet,” he said. “Did you want this ba—”

Derek shook his head and smiled that same curiously shy smile he’d shown on the bridge. “It… it was just a really nice date,” he said, looking off to the side as they went back over the bridge. The breeze coming off the water cut a little sharper, and Rico huddled into his new sweatshirt, grateful. Accidentally on purpose, he bumped Derek’s hand. Derek uncurled his fingers and Rico slid his palm forward, twining their fingers and squeezing. Derek didn’t look at him, but the corner of his mouth peeped up in a little smile.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it was.”

Derek drove him back to the apartment with the top on the car rolled down. The breeze carried in the good and the bad—the grease from the back decks of the barbecue joints, the spilled beer from the pub walk, and the eucalyptus, willow, and running water of the riverfront. Some of it was lovely, and some of it was fetid, but all of it was the city, and Rico leaned his head back and let the smells roll over him.

Derek pulled to a stop, and Rico opened his eyes and looked up. The light pollution obscured the stars, but the sky was deep enough he felt like he could look into it for years.

“Pretty,” Derek murmured.

Rico turned to look at him. “Surprising,” he said softly.

Derek met his eyes. “In what way?”

“You think it’s all murky and mysterious and broods over everything, and it’s really… very simple.”

That pleased, shy smile played with Derek’s mouth, and he looked away. “Is that bad?” he asked, sounding so wistful Rico forgot his broken heart and his healing space for a moment.

“No.”

Derek met his eyes and leaned forward, then paused to see if Rico was ready to meet him.

Rico was.

Their mouths met, and Rico closed his eyes and fell into the kiss like he’d been thinking of falling into the sky.

Except the kiss was all comfort. Derek held him in place with firm fingers on his chin, and Rico gave himself over to the direction, opening his mouth to Derek’s kindness and his urge to give something to Rico that Rico was desperate to take.

Warm and soft, insistent, growing harder, more, until Rico moaned and unsnapped his seat belt, throwing himself practically in Derek’s lap in an effort to get closer.

Derek unhooked his own seat belt and swung Rico’s leg over his so Rico straddled him, and shoved his hands under Rico’s shirts until he touched skin.

Rico groaned softly into Derek’s mouth, shaking with the joy of being touched. “Ooh….”

Derek pressed his fingers into Rico’s shoulders, and Rico kneaded Derek’s chest through his sweatshirt. He whimpered in his throat, wanting more.

“What?” Derek whispered against his throat.

“Skin,” he said, tugging at the sweatshirt.

“Shh….” Derek used surprising wiry strength to pull Rico against him. “Slow.”

Oh, the hollow between his neck and shoulders was warm and smelled like sweat and sunshine, a little like beer, and a little like faded aftershave. Rico pulled that smell into his lungs, let it permeate his cells, let it ground him. Turned his head, lipped at the side of Derek’s neck, then swiped his tongue along the crease of neck and shoulder.

Listened as Derek’s “oolf” of arousal vibrated his entire body under Rico’s spread legs.

For a moment the position was unbearable. Rico’s erection pressed against his waistband, but nothing put any pressure, any friction, any care, on the parts of him that needed friction or care the most. Then Derek slid his hands down under clothing and cupped ass.

Rico collapsed forward, and oh God, their fronts mashed together, and if he canted his hips just
so
,
and Derek spread his cheeks and grazed him where he was tender—

“Shh,” Derek whispered.

Rico turned his head to tell him that he couldn’t, that he needed, that he wanted a hand or a mouth and skin on skin. Derek captured his mouth again, deepened the kiss, and then slid his hands forward and unzipped Rico’s fly.

Rico gasped inside Derek’s mouth, but Derek didn’t stop the kiss. He closed his hand around Rico through his boxers, and Rico groaned, rocking his hips forward rhythmically, until he threw his head back, undone by the intensity.

And opened his eyes and saw the night sky, a few brave stars fighting the city lights.

And realized he was getting a hand job in the front of a Dodge Charger.

And stared at Derek in surprise.

Derek grinned evilly and cupped his neck with the hand
not
stroking his cock. Roughly, he thrust his thumb into Rico’s mouth and commanded him to “Suck!”

The thumb in his mouth was both a gag and a filthy reminder of the thing Rico really wanted to suck, and the hand down his pants moved expertly, squeezing, sliding in his precome, tagging his balls.