Loving Bailey (4 page)

"No, sorry, Dad. Wrong again." His cheeks
burned at what he was about to confess. "I was in a pretty bad
place after what happened with Eden. You know I was going out,
drinking, hooking up." He practically whispered the last of it, but
Drew heard him.

His lips pressed tight together, Drew
nodded. "I remember. We were all worried about you."

"Well, Ashton and I… He won't touch me."

"You've never…"

Blushing furiously, Bailey nodded. "He said,
to be safe, we should wait until I graduated or he got a job
somewhere else. Coincidentally, both those things happened at the
same time. He starts in the fall at UCLA and I graduate in a
week."

"He seriously never…"

"No, Dad. And not because I didn't try to
get him to, either. Because it's who he is. Romantic, and
honorable, and…" His voice trailed away. "I love him, Dad. And I'm
moving in with him next weekend. I hope that doesn't change things
between us, because I love you too."

Drew heaved a deep sigh and ruffled Bailey's
hair like he was still a little kid. "I'm hating seeing you boys
grow up. In the long run, it's your choice and I'll stand behind
you. I can't promise to love, or even like your boyfriend, but I
will give him a chance."

"That's all I ask, Dad." One more thing
needed to be said, then he could go and apologize to Ashton. "I'm
sorry. I really was just hoarding the way I felt about him and the
time we spent together. I didn't intend to hide him from you or you
from him."

"I know you're a good man, Bailey. Bring him
to dinner someday soon."

Nodding, Bailey rose and stepped over his
father's long legs. "I'm going to go over to see him. I'd say don't
wait up, but I'm pretty sure he won't let me spend the night."

His father snorted. "I'm not going to wait
up. I really don't want to be aware of the moment your
determination outstrips your boyfriend's will-power."

Bailey was still laughing about that when he
climbed behind the wheel of his new car. Previously he and his
brother had shared a vehicle, but Bailey had finally managed to
save up the money to purchase a car of his own. Having his own
vehicle, paying for his own insurance and gas were all part of his
plan to be independent. Moving out of his father's house without
transportation was unthinkable.

The 2007 Ford Fusion he'd purchased wasn't
glamorous. The car was a practical low mileage vehicle in a
standard transmission painted a deep blue. He'd paid cash for it
and driven off the lot with an ear-to-ear grin on his face. His
father had admired his choice, his brother had mocked him for
downgrading from the sports car their father had bought for them to
share.

Bailey didn't care. He loved Lucy because
she was his, and because Ashton had beamed with pride when he'd
driven up to his boyfriend's house in her. They'd taken her out
that very night for a drive down the highway and an impromptu
picnic on the beach. Sitting on Lucy's hood, making out with Ashton
as the sun set on the Pacific, he'd known beyond any doubt that
this was the real thing.

He steered the car to the curb in front of
Ashton's tiny cottage, soon to be
their
home. The lights
were out, not even the faint blue flicker of the television behind
the natural fiber bamboo and jute shades that he'd helped Ashton
install a month ago. He took a deep breath as he turned off the
engine and exited the car. He owed Ashton an apology for his
thoughtlessness.

The odd quiet of the house in the noisy
neighborhood gave him pause as he reached the door. He shook off
his unease and knocked. Clinging to the memory of that gentle brush
of lips over his forehead at the party earlier, he knocked again,
louder, when there was no answer.

"Ashton?" he called out, stepping aside to
peer through the small gap the partially rolled shades left. The
couch was empty, Ashton's stack of essays he'd never gotten back to
grading last night still sat on the hardwood floor. Perhaps his
boyfriend was in his bedroom or out in the tiny backyard?

Stepping off the crushed shell walkway,
Bailey listened to the crunching of dry grass underfoot as he made
his way across the compact lawn to the five foot privacy fence and
gate that blocked off the equally small back garden from the front
yard. The gate wasn't locked and swung inward with a metallic
rattle as the garden implements suspended from hooks on its
interior side were jostled with the movement.

He closed the gate behind him and cocked his
head to listen to the tinkling wind chimes. Another weekend
project; he and Ashton had created the wind chimes with driftwood
and shells, and they hung on opposite eaves of the little cottage
to catch the ocean breezes. The soothing ripple of an Asian
inspired bamboo water fountain lured him deeper into the garden. It
encouraged him to believe that his boyfriend was inside somewhere.
The self-contained fountain required a small motor, and it wasn't
like Ashton to leave the water feature on when he wasn't home.

He followed the crushed shell path to the
back door, noting dry grass and un-watered plants, the darkness of
the single kitchen window. Growing worried by the conflicting
information, he shut off the fountain with a remote control.
Reaching into a tiny copper kettle, he retrieved the key to the
back door.

Knocking loudly once more, he called out,
"Ashton? Ashton, it's me!"

When there was still no answer, he unlocked
the door and entered the tiny house.

A few minutes inspection determined it was
empty. Ashton wasn't in bed, he wasn't in the shower, and he wasn't
in the minute kitchen or the living room.

He wasn't home. Bailey sank onto the couch
and sent text messages to his father, Eden, and his brother letting
them know that he would be late. He turned on the television and
selected a documentary on arctic wildlife to watch while he waited
for Ashton to return from wherever he'd gone.

As time passed and one show melded into
another, he grew more and more worried. By nine he'd texted Ashton
twice without answer. By ten he'd discarded his intent not to
appear controlling and possessive and called twice.

By midnight his concern had turned to anger
and his imagination was out of control.

At one, he locked the house carefully behind
him and drove home with the exaggerated care of someone who didn't
dare let his emotions control his actions. He nearly woke Eden or
his dad to talk, but instead, shuffled off to bed, torn between a
variety of emotions. Anger at Ashton, worry for his boyfriend's
safety, hurt that he was being shut out and ignored.

Chapter Five

"I fucked up," Ashton croaked out as he let
himself in his front door. His head pounded; his body ached from
sleeping cramped up on a tiny couch in the lounge area of Arlo's
boat. His heart was a little battered, but he'd awakened more
secure and emotionally at ease than he'd been when he passed
out.

He'd crept off Arlo's boat, suppressing
nausea all the while, and walked back to the bar to find his car in
the lot. He intended to shower, grab a coffee, and head to Bailey's
house to apologize. His phone had reproached him with text messages
and voicemails all the way over from the harbor. Guilt over his
thoughtlessness had replaced all his boundless doubts about Bailey.
Arriving at his cottage, their cottage, to find Lucy parked out
front had altered his plans just a little.

"It's okay, honestly." Bailey entered the
living room from the kitchen, and he looked like he hadn't slept at
all. "I was worried."

"I'm sorry." Ashton pulled off his
sunglasses and tossed them in a pewter bowl on a small oak table
that served as a catch-all near the door. He automatically emptied
his pockets and filled the bowl with wallet, car keys, Chapstick,
and change. "Do I smell coffee?"

He was crushed in a strong embrace which he
returned enthusiastically. Bailey was a stalwart young man, broad
of shoulder and lean of hip, and his very fitness made Ashton feel
like a too skinny too tall freak sometimes. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep
so I came back to wait for you."

He'd told Bailey to make himself at home, to
use the key to the back door whenever he wanted to. He should have
just given him a key to the front door, but some insecure, cowardly
bastard inside him had held back from that. Giving him the key to
the front door meant something apparently, that he hadn't been
willing to deal with. Silly to balk at it though, when the cottage
itself was a tribute to their lives together. They'd done so many
weekend projects, improving and decorating the place, that it
really was theirs.

"I wasn't doing anything, you know. I got
drunk and passed out on Arlo's boat." He held his breath, kept his
arms around his boyfriend, ready to do his best to keep him from
running, or force him to listen, or whatever it took to make sure
that they were still in tune.

Bailey looked startled as his blue eyes
widened. "You know, that never occurred to me. I thought you might
be mad, that you might have been in an accident, all sorts of
things, but I never thought that you'd cheated on me."

Relief melted the tension in his spine. He
relaxed, loosening his hold. "I never would, you know."

"I know." Bailey kept one arm around his
waist and led Ashton to the kitchen. Two of his mother's blue on
white floral print bone china coffee cups sat out on the marble
breakfast bar. A jar of maraschino cherries, a bottle of dark
chocolate sauce, and a can of whipped cream surrounded the delicate
cups.

"Are you inspired to make a dessert coffee?"
He laughed at the affront on Bailey's face.

"You know I like it sweet."

"And you know I like my coffee black."

"There's no reason we can't both have what
we want, is there?" Was that a challenge in Bailey's voice?
Regardless of his intent, the words sent shivers of lust through
Ashton. If only he weren't so achy and tired.

"No," he drawled slowly. "I suppose there
isn't. What are you up to?"

Bailey smiled innocently at him and started
pouring the coffee. Ashton accepted his cup, steaming and black,
and watched, bemused, as Bailey began adding the other items to his
cup, ending up with something that smelled amazing.

"Black forest cake. Have you tried it? All
chocolate and cherry and sweet cream… There was one at the party
yesterday and it was amazing, better than sex. I should have saved
you a piece, but I wasn't fast enough." Bailey said, catching his
gaze. He held out the cup of doctored coffee. "Want to try it?"

"Er…" The thought of the sweet drink made
his stomach roil. "I think some other time. I have a touch of a
hangover."

An inelegant snort was his answer. Bailey
began putting the ingredients into the narrow fridge with the
comfort and ease of long familiarity. Ashton watched him, sipping
at his coffee. "That's it, then?" he finally asked. "You're good
with last night, nothing else to say?"

Bailey paused in the act of wiping the
countertop. Whatever he thought of Drew as a parent, he'd certainly
taught his sons well. Neat white teeth sank into the tempting lower
lip. "I'm not sure. I mean, I understand what you did, but it hurts
that you didn't even think about me while you were out, that you
ignored my calls and texts."

Ashton flinched and set his coffee down.
"I'm sorry. I was upset, primarily because I was hurt that your
father didn't know about me. Can I make it up to you?"

"You could tell me who Arlo is, if it would
make you more comfortable." Bailey ducked his head and scrubbed at
a spot on the counter.

The tiny subterfuge warmed Ashton. He tipped
Bailey's face back up so their eyes met. "He's an old friend, my
college roommate before grad school. He's also a marine
archeologist and he arrived yesterday from Aruba. I met him for
drinks and he blathered on about amazing finds when all I wanted to
do was talk about you." He brushed his lips over Bailey's softly.
"I really am sorry. It was thoughtless of me not to let you know
what was going on. I plead stupidity."

Bailey smiled weakly at him. "And that's why
I'm trying not to be mad. I was stupid and thoughtless too. If you
can forgive me, then I can forgive you."

"Done." He rubbed his sore eyes. "Hey…it's
Sunday. We were supposed to go over to the nature walk this
afternoon and the hardware store about a sprinkler system."

Bailey nodded. "I'm game if you are."

"Well, I am, but I'm kind of tired and I'd
like a shower."

Mocking laughter filled the air, and the
last dregs of doubt flitted from his heart. "You laugh, but Arlo's
boat is smaller than my bedroom and the couch I slept on wouldn't
fit a Chihuahua comfortably. What do you say we nap, and then
tackle that list of things to do today?"

"Are you sure? You've got all that grading
to do too."

"I'm sure. You look tired, baby. Go lay down
and I'll be there when I get done in the shower."

Bailey nodded, smiling shyly as he picked up
his coffee and left the room. Ashton watched him go, fighting with
himself. Was he being foolish? Sharing a bed with Bailey was like
penning a sheep with a wolf. They only had a few more days to go
until graduation. Graduation, the goal he'd set for keeping his
hands to himself.

Leaving Bailey to settle himself into the
only room of the house that didn't already bear his stamp, Ashton
headed to the bathroom and a shower. He turned the water on to heat
then ran a hand over his jaw. Stubble could burn, but he wasn't
really alert enough for face shaving. Instead he brushed his teeth
and stared at himself in the mirror. He was seriously considering
breaking his word. Compromising his principles. And for what? To
get laid?

Then again, Bailey was twenty-one, they'd
had about the most long term relationship he'd ever had, even
without sex, and damn it, after the emotional turmoil of the last
twenty-four hours, he
wanted
. Wanted to touch those hard
muscles, to lick his way over the ridged abdomen and taste the
essence of Bailey. He wanted to possess and be possessed by his
boyfriend, to make the claim permanent.