“Write your book, of course.”
“But…”
He waved his hand in one of those vague, graceful gestures. “If you feel you must inform the police, go ahead.” His smile was acrid. “It’s not as though I’m a danger to society.”
I stared at him. “It’s not like you paid your debt to society either.”
Mayfield said quietly, “You have no idea what I’ve paid. But if you’d like a price tag, I’ve contributed hundreds of thousands of dollars to charity—and there will be millions more upon my death.”
“How…long have the doctors given you?”
“Six months at the outside.”
If that were true he’d be dead long before the book was published.
I said, “Why are you leaving this up to me? I don’t want to have to make this kind of decision.”
“This is the hand you’ve been dealt,” he pronounced, for all the world like the Sphinx delivering its riddle. “Sagittarius is the truth-seeker. Now you have the truth.”
* * * * *
Jasmine scented the twilight—as did the smell of pot roast escaping from Jack’s kitchen window. I knocked on his door and a moment later it swung open. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that emphasized the strong brown column of his throat and the muscles in his arms.
“I left you a couple of messages,” he said.
“I know.” I handed him Bud Perkins’s file. “I thought you might want this back.”
“Are you done with it?”
“Yeah.”
He studied my face. “Do you know who killed Eva Aldrich?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“Who?”
“I guess you’ll have to read the book.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared. Finally he said, “Did you want to come in?”
“Not really.”
His face did change then. He said, “I think we need to talk, Tim.”
I said tiredly, “Maybe I can save us both some time. You feel like things are moving too quickly between us and we both need to take a step back. And I agree. It’s better if we leave it at friends.”
He said, after a pause, “I see.”
I risked a look at his face, and found I couldn’t read it easily. “Isn’t that what you were going to say?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “What were you going to say?”
“I guess it’s moot at this point.”
He moved back as I stepped inside the doorway. I closed the door behind me and said, “What were you going to say?”
He shoved his hands inside his jeans and offered a funny smile. “That I think I could be falling in love with you, and I’m not going to let that happen unless—” His eyes rested on my face. “It’s sort of beside the point now, isn’t it?”
I shook my head. “I thought you were going to say—” I think I was more shocked than he was when my voice gave out.
He didn’t move a muscle and I got control of myself and said, “I guess I was trying to beat you to the punch.”
Jack frowned. “This is one of the things I don’t understand about you, Tim. It’s one of the things that worries me about getting involved with you.”
I had that dizzy, breathless feeling, like when you’re a kid playing crack the whip, and you find yourself at the end of the whip. Things were moving too fast for me. I put my back against the door and said, “I’ve lost my nerve. I’m afraid to hope for too much, to trust that things can work themselves out. I thought you were—repulsed.”
“By your seizures?”
I nodded.
“I’m not repulsed. They scare me. Not the seizures themselves, but—” He swallowed as though his mouth was suddenly dry. “You would have drowned the other morning, Tim. If I hadn’t been next to you, you’d have slipped back in the water and drowned. You don’t remember that, do you?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t look away from Jack’s face. He looked…stricken.
“You reached for me, and then you seized. I had to drag you out of the pool. You’re not dumb. You have to know the danger, but you swim out there morning after morning by yourself.”
“Is that why you don’t want to take a chance on me?”
“I am willing to take a chance on you,” he said, “but you’ve got to be willing to take a chance too, and stop risking your life for no good reason. You’ve got to commit to keeping yourself alive and well before I commit—”
I interrupted, “You said you couldn’t stand me crying.”
His brows drew together. Then he said, “It’s not what you think. It rips my heart out when you cry. I want to fix it for you, and I can’t.” He reached a hand out, brushing my jaw. “I can’t do anything but love you, and I’m not sure that’s what you want.”
I found that I couldn’t meet his gaze anymore. “Yeah, it’s what I want.” I stared down at my hands knotted in fists on my thighs, and I consciously relaxed them. “I think I’ve…loved you from the first time we ever went out.” I smiled a little, but it still hurt remembering how he had cut me loose, how quickly and easily he’d dropped me before.
As though he read my mind, Jack said, “Me too. I knew six months ago when I couldn’t stop noticing you, wondering about you. I told myself I couldn’t afford to get involved with you, that it wasn’t going to work, but I couldn’t help watching you, wondering how you were doing, if there wasn’t some way…”
“You hid it pretty well.”
“You just weren’t looking. I used to drink my morning coffee watching you swim, waiting for you to get into trouble. I kept trying to think what the hell I was going to do about you.”
Those dusk-gray eyes met mine steadily, and something hard and dry and twisted inside me softened and let go. I muttered, “Okay, I’ll wear a Medic Alert bracelet or even a damn dog collar if that’s what you want.”
It was a relief to be pulled roughly into his arms. “I think the bracelet is a good idea.” His mouth found mine. “While we’re on the subject of jewelry, how do you feel about rings?”
About the Author
A distinct voice in gay fiction, multi-award-winning author JOSH LANYON has been writing gay mystery, adventure and romance for over a decade. In addition to numerous short stories, novellas, and novels, Josh is the author of the critically acclaimed Adrien English series, including The Hell You Say, winner of the 2006 USABookNews awards for GLBT Fiction. Josh is an Eppie Award winner and a three-time Lambda Literary Award finalist.
Find other Josh Lanyon titles at www.joshlanyon.com
Follow Josh on Twitter, Facebook, and Goodreads.
If you enjoyed these stories, check out the following titles, also by Josh Lanyon:
Novels
The Adrien English Mysteries
Fatal Shadows
A Dangerous Thing
The Hell You Say
Death of a Pirate King
Stranger Things Have Happened
The HOLMES & MORIARITY Mysteries
Somebody Killed His Editor
All She Wrote
Other novels
This Rough Magic (A SHOT IN THE DARK Series)
Fair Game (ALL’S FAIR Series)
The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks
Mexican Heat (with Laura Baumbach)
Strange Fortune
Come Unto These Yellow Sands
Stranger on the Shore
Novellas
The DANGEROUS GROUND Series
Dangerous Ground
Old Poison
Blood Heat
Dead Run
Kick Start
The I SPY Series
I Spy Something Bloody
I Spy Something Wicked
I Spy Something Christmas
The IN A DARK WOOD Series
In a Dark Wood
The Parting Glass
The DARK HORSE Series
The Da
rk Horse
The White Knight
Snowball in Hell (Doyle & Spain Series)
Mummy Dearest (XOXO FILES Series)
Other novellas
The Dark Farewell
The Darkling Thrush
The Dickens with Love
A Ghost of a Chance
Out of the Blue
Lone Star (in Men Under the Mistletoe)
Green Glass Beads (in Irregulars)
Everything I Know
Short stories
A Limited Engagement
The French Have a Word for It
In Sunshine or In Shadow
Until We Meet Once More
Icecapade (in His for the Holidays)
Perfect Day
Heart Trouble
In Plain Sight
PETIT MORTS (SWEET SPOT Collection)
Other People’s Weddings
Slings and Arrows
Sort of Stranger Than Fiction
Critic’s Choice
Just Desserts
Merry Christmas, Darling (Holiday Codas)