Essence of Time (27 page)

Jack chuckled, ran a hand through his hair. “I know. I know. Man whore, that’s me.” He glanced at his phone. “Excuse me a sec.” Then wandered into the back room while Rob finished packing up their picnic. He heard words like “Hey babe.” And “Yeah me too,” plus the Gordon classic: “Now baby, you know I don’t make commitments that far ahead.” He shook his head, shoved a small whisper of worry about his friend away. Jack would figure it out, one of these days. God help the woman who turned him. Or maybe he should say, god help Jack when he fell hard for any woman that could turn him.

“So, does he know?” Rob looked around; saw Jack leaning in the doorway.

“No.” He knew what his friend meant.

“Is that wise?”

“No.” Rob sighed and rolled his shoulders out. “I don’t know how to bring it up.”

“The longer you go, the harder it will be you know.”

“I know. C’mon, let’s go have a real drink.” Rob realized his own deflection but Jack got the message and dropped the subject.

Chapter Six

Two Years Later

Blake looked up from his brewing logbook and stared at Rob. His perfect deep brown eyes had become so familiar, so reassuring, it was as if their giant fight the night before had never happened. But it had, of course. “What?” He kept his voice gruff. They were coming up on their second anniversary of opening the wildly successful brew pub The Local, and of their commitment to each other.

For some reason, last night, Rob had been testy, bitten his head off at least twice and Blake had risen to the bait. They argued about everything under the sun, but the bottom line was, Blake felt shut out of something he couldn’t name. That, in and of itself, was frustrating him beyond belief. He knew his man now, and knew damn good and well there was something he shared with others in his life, but couldn't, or wouldn't, share with Blake.

“I’ll be in late.” Rob bustled around the brewery; then started for the door. “Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Blake’s head buzzed with jealousy. Silly, trite, unnecessary jealousy. But it made him see red nonetheless.  “Have fun with your friend.”

“I will.”

Blake blew out a breath, tossed the binder aside and stepped in front of his lover, propping an arm across the doorway blocking his exit. Rob stared at it, then at him. “Excuse me, please.”

“No. I won’t. Not until we clear the air a little.”  Blake’s heart pounded. He’d been dealing with his sister’s stress and drama so much in the last year or so he knew it had distracted him. But Rob and Sara got along great and Rob was just as concerned about her.  He narrowed his eyes, tried to keep from just kissing the guy before telling him to go, have a great time.

“Fine. Clear it.” Rob stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest.

“I don’t begrudge you time with your friends. But…”

“But you don’t like Jack. I get it Blake. I know you have a strange history with the guy. But he is my friend from way back and we have a bit of a tradition.”

Blake ran a hand down his face, then reached out and cupped Rob’s chin. The sight of his lover’s relieved smile nearly made him collapse with relief.  “I don’t give a shit about him, Rob. Seriously. I just… okay, fine, I don’t like him, but he’s your friend. It’s not like you have that much to say about him that makes him sound like such a great guy.”

Rob looked up at the ceiling then back at Blake. “I know. I’m sorry. He’s… unique. But he’s a good friend of mine.”

“So go.” Blake reached up, gripped Rob’s neck and tugged him close. “Have fun. No worries. I am gonna take some food over to Sara anyway.”

Rob smiled, kissed him, and then headed out. “Wait up for me?”

Blake waved. “Always.”

Rob stared into the dark depths of his beer. “Hey man, you with me?” Jack smacked his shoulder, jarring him out of his funk.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” He sucked back half the brew, set the glass down and smiled at his friend.

“So, the big C averted one more year, eh?” Jack raised his glass. “Congrats.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He touched his glass to Jack’s. Something was bugging him, and he knew exactly what it was. “I, uh, still haven’t told him yet.”

Jack leaned into the bar, staring at the hot girl with huge tits pouring drinks. “Huh. That’s a pretty major detail about yourself you’re leaving out, isn’t it?” He motioned for the girl, flashed his million-dollar smile and Rob watched her simper over, and give them both a lovely cleavage shot. 

Jack flirted a few minutes. Rob ignored them, sunk his own mire of self-flagellation. He pictured how he could start the conversation, and then gave up. Jack’s next words made him choke. “I’ve met somebody.” The man pounded Rob’s back until he got control of himself.   “I mean, well, ‘met’ is a tame word. Let’s say I have hooked up with the most amazing chick on two planets in the last few weeks. Twice. And I’m, um, well…” he passed a hand through his hair.

Rob stared at him, then laughed so hard he nearly choked again on his own spit.  “Fucking-A. Finally!” He watched Jack’s face pass from irritation to a sort of goofy resignation.  “Damn, son. Tell me more.”

“Ah, yeah, well, she’s … um… an agent, with Stewart’s. Younger than me by a few. I knew of her, but never knew her until we had to work out a deal together…a tough one.” Jack sipped, amazingly nervous, Rob noted. Then something clicked in his brain. Something Blake had said about Sara a few nights ago. He gripped his pint, tried to be casual and let Jack continue.  “Well, I, you know, did my usual thing. We christened her office. I figured, okay, one and done on that. But, I ah… oh shit. I don’t know. She’s amazing. I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s a god damned, sarcastic, high-maintenance bitch I’m sensing, but…”

Rob gulped his second beer and motioned for another. His brain refused to process what was about to happen.

“So I paid her a visit at her open house a week ago. Now? Shit, man, I am hooked.” Jack stared straight ahead. Rob’s head pounded in time with his heart.

“She have a name, this goddess?”

Please don’t be Sara…please don’t be Sara…please…

“Sara.”

Oh. Fuck.

Rob stared at his friend, as the sheer improbability of his life coursed through him. Blake was going to have kittens.  Then, he would kill one of Rob's oldest friends. He put a hand on Jack’s shoulder.  “We have to talk.”

Rob fumbled with his phone in the back of the taxi, trying to find Sara’s number.

“Hello?” She sounded muffled, as if coming up from sleep, but Rob knew she was just as light a sleeper as her brother. They were both nearly impossible to wake in the morning as if they had only just achieved real rest. But it took them forever to settle down to get to that point.

“Hey gorgeous. Sorry to wake you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. What’s up? Blake okay?”

“Yeah honey, he’s fine. Listen, I need to ask you something. And I require complete honesty.”

“Um sure.” More rustling noises as she sat up. “What?”

“I understand that you have been seeing my friend Jack. Jack Gordon.”

She gasped; then got control of herself. “Yeah, I know him. He’s an agent with my company. What about him?”

Rob sighed. “Honesty, remember?”

She sucked in a breath and her voice was shaky enough from that point on to convince Rob of what he already knew: that two of the most impossible people in his universe had found each other. While part of him acknowledged it as a near perfect match, he realized that the calm happiness of his life as he knew it was over; or at least radically changed.

**** 

Three Weeks Later

Rob glared at his lover, unable to form words through the haze of fury roiling through his brain. The last weeks had been one long nightmare of revelation, non-stop argument and frustration. This latest little tidbit was the last fucking straw. “You want to do what?”

Blake sat, unblinking, jaw set. Rob suppressed the urge to bite the guy’s head off, or grab him and fuck themselves into oblivion. He took a breath. Then spoke again. “Blake. We don’t need this. It’s not in the budget, or the plans or anything we wanted. It’s…”

Blake stood, shoved his hands in his pockets. “You mean it’s not what you wanted.”

Rob ran a hand through his hair and tried hard not to rise to the bait. All they’d done for nearly a month was fight, mostly over Sara and Jack. He was fucking sick of it. It had all started at Blake’s lake house, when Sara had finally admitted she and Jack were messing around. At this point he could fucking throttle Gordon himself for even going near Sara. Although a part of him realized that of all women on the planet, she was one who could likely make a near-honest man out of his old friend.

“No, it’s not what I wanted Blake. Sorry. I thought we wanted the same thing. Jesus. Excuse the hell out of me for thinking that, I guess.”

Blake kept staring out the window. Rob had to clench his fist to stop from running a hand down this man’s jaw, to get him to relax, to stop grinding his teeth. Blake hadn’t been sleeping at all, was losing weight from worrying about his sister and her convoluted relationship with Jack. Rob had never felt so torn in his life. His natural tendencies to defuse, calm and soothe were sorely tried those past few weeks, even though he had never felt closer to Blake.

“Look, I just think we should consider… I don’t know, the legacy of this place,” Blake waved a hand around. His shirt clung to his body in a way that brought chills to Rob’s spine. They hadn’t had sex in a couple of weeks, too busy being pissed off or tired, or both. Running the business was proving harder than he’d thought, but he loved every exhausting, frustrating minute of it.

“Legacy? What the hell, Blake? The Local
is
our legacy. Ours. Together. We don’t need the added expense and headache of packaging. That means I have to get a new license, equipment, pay designers for labeling, find a distributor,” he sat, suddenly tired enough to curl up under the work table and sleep for a day. He grabbed Blake’s arm as the other man tried to stomp past him, avoiding the real meat of the argument as usual.

“You don’t understand,” Blake muttered, wrenching his arm away leaving Rob alone, bone tired and worried. He heard Blake’s phone buzz and laid his aching head on the desk. He’d hired a new manager, and was hoping to put some of the day-to-day responsibilities on her plate. But, until he got her trained the way he wanted… he sighed, listening with half an ear to Blake’s end of the conversation. He sat up at the sound of Blake’s shout of dismay.

Fucking-A. Now what?
He turned the corner into the busy restaurant, ignored two staff members needing his attention and made a beeline for Blake who had a death grip on his phone. His face was an alarming shade of red. He put a hand on his shoulder and Blake gripped it, still listening intently. “Fine. Okay. I’ll be there. But so help me…” Rob watched him struggle for control. “Never mind. Yeah. Thanks.” He set the phone on the bar and looked up at Rob.

“What?”

“Sara. She…she was attacked at a showing. Went alone, I don’t know.” Rob gripped his arm already calling Jack in his mind. Blake narrowed his eyes at him. “That was Jack. He’s taking her to his house. She’s okay. Bad guy got his shit stomped by Craig, another realtor in her office. Attacker’s in custody. Shit.” Blake slumped into a seat. Rob rubbed his shoulders.

“You have got to lighten up. Seriously. You’re gonna have a heart attack or something.” Blake shrugged out from under Rob’s hand.

“I’ve tried to explain this to you. She’s my sister. I’ve always looked after her. She’s…”

“I know, I know. I get it. I’m just saying she could stand on her own a little, you know?”

Blake stood. “I’m sick of fighting with you Rob.” His beautiful green eyes looked as exhausted as Rob felt. “Are you coming with me to get her, or what?”

“Where? To Gordon’s house?” Rob’s chest tightened even further at the thought of a confrontation between them all. “Sure. I’ll drive.”

Chapter Seven

Five Years Later

Blake squinted into the bright sunlight as he emerged, stiff, sore and tired from the nearly nine hour flight to Istanbul.  He groaned, stretched out his shoulders and pulled his sunglasses from his coat pocket. It had been a cool sixty-degree afternoon in Chicago when they left. “Fucking-A,” he mumbled, still woozy from the sleeping pill Rob made him take that didn’t work. He glanced over at his lover, tall, handsome, blonde hair slightly grown out at Blake’s request. Bastard could sleep in the middle of a tsunami.  The sight of Rob’s smile as they followed the driver, who’d met them at passport control, out into the sweltering Turkish afternoon dissipated any residual irritation. 

They slid into the cool Mercedes back seat once their luggage was tucked into the trunk. Rob threaded his long fingers through Blake’s and they sat as the driver navigated the utterly terrifying gauntlet of Istanbul’s freeways. He white knuckled the armrest with the other hand as Rob literally dosed off again. Jesus. Blake poked him in the leg with their joined hands as the driver eased into what looked like an ancient, or perhaps abandoned, dock. “I think we’re here.”

Rob wiped his eyes, and leaned up to peer out the window. “Yep, this is it.” He leapt out of the car, leaving Blake puzzled and a little nervous. There was not a soul in sight, and no obvious boat waiting for them. He crawled out of the car, stretched again and watched as Rob handed the driver some sort of money, determined not to be a whiner about the heat, how tired he was. He missed his sister, his brewery, and was on the knife’s edge of snapping Rob’s head off about letting the driver dump them here, at the side of a dirty, decrepit wharf. But he bit his tongue. He owed it to the guy, really. He’d been nothing but absent lately, dealing with Sara’s life drama and the new addition to the family—Katie, his niece.

A well-dressed woman emerged from a small nearby building. Rob greeted her with a smile and handshake. “Gentlemen,” she gestured behind her and Blake couldn’t repress a gasp as a beautiful gulet-style boat slid into view. “Your Blue Cruise awaits you.” Rob smiled, put an arm around Blake’s shoulders, and kissed him on the forehead.