Choices and Changes Read online

  He thought about it for a minute. “Hmmmm, well, yeah. There is a little bit of Viking Eric in him. I mean, he’s very tall and his facial structure is different, unique, kinda like that but he’s thicker. Not as stocky as me, but still, he could hold his own, I’m sure.”

  “Hold you, you mean, right?” Maggie interrupted.

  “Do you want details or not, woman?” he barked playfully.

  Clearing her throat, Maggie used her serious “mom tone” as Dusty called it. “Sorry, continue.”

  “Anyway, as I was saying. He also reminds me a little of that actor that played Samantha’s boyfriend on Sex in the City, the way his eyes light up when he smiles.” Dean paused long enough to take a swig of his now room-temperature coffee.

  “Damn Dean, he sounds scrumptious.”

  Dean couldn’t help but laugh, thankful they could still talk with each other so freely about anything. “Remember that movie we watched with Jodi Foster—she was an alternate Earth president or some shit, Elysium?”

  Her response was a simple, “Mmmhmm.”

  “The bad guy in that movie, that’s what Adam sounds like. Goddamn, Mags, it is so fucking sexy. I mean, I turn around and here this hybrid between a Nordic god and South African angel is hovering in the doorway of our son’s apartment. And, holy shit Mags, you wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it; I started sputtering like a teenager. It was so embarrassing.” He polished the statement off with a self-deprecating laugh.

  She harrumphed and the sound made Dean smile. He could totally see Maggie standing in the kitchen, leaning against the island, giving him her trademark Don’t make me smack you! look that she’d perfected after so many years with him. “When are you seeing him again?”

  “Tonight.” Dean smiled wide. “He’s picking me up at six for dinner.”

  He had to hold the phone away from his ear when she shrieked loud enough to bring every stray dog in the city to their door. “Oh my God, really? What are you going to wear? Where are you guys going?” She peppered him with questions, the same exuberance in her tone Dean could remember hearing when Dusty came home from school one day during his freshman year and told them he’d asked the quarterback of the football team out on a date.

  “Slow your roll Mags, don’t know where we’re going and I’ll probably wear jeans and a nice shirt with my boots.”

  “Oh, wear that green Henley I got you last Christmas; it really brings out your eyes. And don’t wear jeans with holes in them Dean, you’re trying to impress the man, not be hip and cool. And don’t wear your work boots. Seriously, I’m not kidding; you can see the steel in the toes of the boots, they’re so worn out. You really should throw those damned things away. And…” Dean had to cut her off or the call would never end.

  “Mags, I’m good, I got this.”

  “Yeah?” she asked.

  “Yeah, besides, I left my work boots there.” He realized his mistake about three seconds after he finished the sentence. He’d never see those boots again.

  Maggie was already laughing, and on the move if the rustling he was hearing over the line was any indication. “I do love it when you stick your foot in your mouth, Dean.”

  They talked for a little while longer, Dean threatening life and limb if Maggie laid so much as one finger on his favorite pair of boots. “All right Mags, I better get to my emails, see if I have any jobs I need to complete today.”

  “All right hun, I’ll talk to you soon, I’m sure. But now, I’m off to take out the trash.” She laughed, and the sound of tape being torn from a box reached his ears right as the line went dead.

  ~ Chapter 5 | First Date ~

  Adam pulled into a spot in the parking garage attached to the building Dean’s apartment was in. Checking his appearance once more in the rearview mirror, he opened the door and climbed out of his Denali. The beautiful man that blushed and smiled almost shyly when Adam looked at him had taken over his thoughts most of the day. Thankfully, he wasn’t working at the hospital or seeing any of his more severe patients that day, so the visions of Dean Anderson in various stages of undress that played on a repeat loop in his mind’s eye were distracting but welcome. While Adam was far from celibate, many years had passed after his husband died before the established doctor had gone looking for a warm body to calm the chill. Even then, he rarely went on an actual date, and he never saw the same man twice. There was something very different about this man though, something that called to Adam and made him want to get to know Dean, not simply fuck him and move on. It was the same pull he’d felt toward Patrick the first time they’d met.

  A glance at his watch showed the time as four minutes after six, and Adam groaned. He valued punctuality, and it bothered him that he was going to arrive later than the agreed upon time of six p.m. for their dinner date. After work, he’d run home to shower and change and then spent ten minutes arguing with himself over what to wear. Adam the professional wanted to take Dean out on what he hoped would be their first of many dates in a leisure suit. Adam the gay, single, fifty-year-old man trying to impress his date decided starched jeans, a white button-down sans tie with a tan blazer, and brown suede lace-up Cole Haan ankle boots would look better. And not scream I’m old and single for a reason.

  The elevator dinged, opening to the long hallway that led to Dean’s door. Now the nerves were kicking in. Adam knocked softly and waited only a few seconds before the door opened and he was greeted by the wide smile that had captivated his attention the previous night. “Hey, come on in.” Dean stepped aside so Adam could enter, closing the door behind him. “Give me a minute to grab my stuff and let Dusty know I’m heading out, okay?” Dean asked and actually waited until Adam smiled and nodded in response.

  He watched Dean walk across the living room to the hallway, knock on the boys’ bedroom door, and wait. Good Lord, but the man was gorgeous from head to fucking toe. Several inches shorter than Adam’s six foot four, but stocky and muscular, Dean Anderson had a confident air about him that was refreshing. His dark brown hair, littered with streaks of silver and gray, was just long enough to run your fingers through and hold tight, and Adam prayed he would get the opportunity to do that, and soon. He wore a dark green shirt, Wranglers that hugged his legs and ass like a second layer of skin, and a pair of goddamn cowboy boots. All that was missing was a Stetson.

  Clearing his throat, Adam turned and looked around the living room if for no other reason than to take his mind off thoughts of Dean naked in nothing but those goddamn boots and a Stetson, spread out on his bed. Looking back toward the hallway he saw Dusty pulling a T-shirt on, walking his way. “Hey Adam, I wanted to thank you again for what you did for David last night.” Dean’s son held his hand out and Adam took it.

  “Of course, it was my pleasure. If you or he needs anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me; your dad has my number.” Adam smiled, patting the top of Dusty’s hand before releasing it.

  “I bet he does,” Dusty mumbled.

  “What’s that now?” Dean elbowed his son playfully. It was then that Adam took notice of just how much they favored each other. Same unruly brown hair, big, beautiful brown eyes, round face and linear nose, and when the Anderson men smiled, it shone in their eyes. Each of them had a sort of John Wayne swagger about them and when they talked it was all shucks and darn and TV-western sounding. It was downright adorable.

  “All right, you boys behave.” Dusty waggled his eyebrows, shoving his father toward the door.

  Neither man spoke until they were in the elevator on their way down to the parking garage. “How was your day? Are you settling in, looking for work?” Adam asked.

  Dean smiled up at him, and it was very hard not to push him up against the wall and press the emergency stop button. “It was good, actually. I finished up a couple of jobs. I own my own design and website building company, so I can work from anywhere.” Dean smiled proudly. “Then I talked to Mags for a while, told her all about the doctor that asked me out on a date.” The n
ow-familiar flush crept across Dean’s cheeks and if the elevator hadn’t dinged, the doors opening to let them out and several people on, Adam probably would have molested him right where he stood.

  Dean looked at him expectantly. “What?” Adam asked.

  Laughing softly, Dean asked, “Where’s your car parked?”

  “Shit, that would help.” Adam growled in frustration—apparently he was sixteen again, head in the clouds. “This way.”

  “Hey, wait.” Dean reached for his arm. “We’re both adults here, but it’s obvious that this is new for both of us. So, why don’t you kiss me? Let’s get that awkwardness out of the way so we can enjoy our date.”

  Adam chuckled, shaking his head. “You are something else, Dean Anderson.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Dean was quick with the retort.

  Cocky, confident, charming…Lord give me strength, I am in so much trouble with this man.

  Adam took him by the hand and they walked several spots down to where his truck was parked. Pushing Dean up against the side of the vehicle, he leaned in and kissed him, chastely at first. It was Dean that licked Adam’s bottom lip then deepened the kiss as soon as Adam opened up to him. And it was Dean that reached for Adam, snaking his fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and jerking Adam closer to him. He had to brace his hands on the side of his SUV and push off to break the hold Dean had on him.

  Panting, lips already slightly swollen, Dean was the picture of sex in a pair of tight jeans. Running the tips of his fingers over his own kiss-swollen lips, Adam smiled. “Get your ass in the truck before I strip you and fuck you right goddamn here.”

  Sucking in a sharp breath, Dean laughed almost hysterically. “Yeah, we should probably take it slow considering we’ve known each other for less than twenty-four hours.”

  He held Dean’s door open for him before jogging around to the driver’s side and climbing into the car. Once they were out of the garage and heading toward the restaurant, conversation started up again. “Have you gotten out of the apartment to do any sight-seeing yet?”

  “No, but it’s been kinda insane since I arrived,” Dean admitted.

  “Well, I’m off for the next four days if you fancy a sight-seeing trip,” Adam offered immediately. Watching the road, he could still see the smile on Dean’s face out of the corner of his eye.

  Dean looked his way, nodding his head. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” Focused on the road in front of them again, Dean asked where they were eating.

  “The Palm in Tribeca, they have the best steaks. It’s one of my favorites and I thought, you’re from Texas and Texans like steak, right?” Adam nudged him playfully. Dean rolled his eyes in response.

  When they arrived, Adam used the valet parking at the end of the street and they walked the rest of the way to the restaurant. Dean’s eyes were on everything around him, soaking it all in. Every time he looked at Adam he grinned, and Adam loved it. When the hostess was seating them, more than one person followed Dean with their eyes as he gracefully followed her. The look on Adam’s face was cocky, confident, much like Dean in the parking garage. These people could look to their hearts’ content, but Dean was leaving with him. It made him feel proud to be in the company of a man he wanted to do more than screw. Yes, he definitely wanted to do that too, but he wanted more than a casual fling with Dean; he wanted to claim him, mark him as his own. It was a feeling of possessiveness Adam hadn’t felt for some time, not since Patrick. The feeling was both exhilarating and terrifying.

  Dean slid into the booth and Adam waited mere seconds to see if he’d stop at the edge, or scoot all the way over. He already knew he was going to sit across from his date regardless. He wanted to hold a conversation and watch the man’s lips move while he talked, watch his eyes light up and get to know him. But it really would stroke his ego if Dean scooted all the way over, which he did. The devil on Adam’s shoulder was dancing the cha-cha, whooping and hollering. He didn’t miss the brief flash of confusion in Dean’s eyes, quickly replaced with an amazing smile that Adam could get quite used to.

  He reached for Dean’s hands, covering them with his much larger ones. “I would gladly sit beside you Dean, but I want us to talk and get to know one another. Enjoy each other’s company for a while. On the second date, I’ll sit beside you, how’s that?” Adam winked.

  “Very sure of yourself there, aren’t you? Who says there will even be a second date?” Dean sat back, crossing his arms over his chest, a mock glare awkwardly marring his features.

  Adam leaned across the table, speaking softly but clearly. “I do Dean, I do.” Those deep brown eyes sparked and then just as quickly, the emotion was gone. Before either of them could say anything more, the waiter approached.

  “Good evening gentlemen, my name is Vinnie, I’ll be your server today. The special tonight is the filet mignon, available in nine ounce or fourteen ounce, with your choice of sauce and classic Oscar.” The vibrant young man placed a glass of water in front of each of them. “Can I get you a drink or an appetizer, possibly both while you decide on your meal?”

  “That would be wonderful, Vinnie,” Adam responded. He knew exactly what he wanted and though he was quite certain he knew what Dean would want as well, he would still ask. “Do you like red wine?” Dean nodded. “Do you trust me?”

  Dean snorted. “That depends.”

  Laughing, Adam picked up both menus and handed them to Vinnie. “We’ll have the sesame-seared ahi tuna to start, then a bowl of lobster bisque—one bowl, two spoons please.” Adam winked at Dean. “Then we’ll each have the fourteen-ounce filet mignon with brandy peppercorn and asparagus. Oh, and bring us a bottle of Terrazas de los Andes Malbec Reserva, with two glasses if you please, Vinnie.”

  “Of course, sir.” Vinnie smiled, scribbling on his pad as he sprinted toward the bar.

  Adam lifted his water, watching Dean over the rim of the glass. “No one’s ever ordered my meal for me before. It’s…different,” Dean admitted. “Maybe I should be pissed or feel emasculated, but honestly, it’s kind of nice not to have to pore over that menu.”

  Damn, this man would keep surprising him. While Adam had been confident in what he felt Dean would and wouldn’t like, he had prepared himself for Dean to be slightly miffed with him taking charge like that. “You are something else, Dean Anderson; you really are.”

  “I know.”

  Adam laughed out loud just as Vinnie waltzed over with the bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and two large wineglasses, stems perched between his fingers. “All right, gentlemen, here is your requested bottle.” He worked the cork out quickly and poured a finger of wine into Adam’s glass for him to taste.

  Adam lifted the glass, swirling the deep red liquid before sniffing; it smelled robust and spicy, just the way he liked it. Slowly, he brought the glass to his lips, sipping, rolling it around in his mouth. The flavors exploded on his tongue, but what really got his motor running was the way Dean looked at him. His date stared at Adam’s lips through hooded eyes that widened comically when Adam ran his tongue over his bottom lip invitingly. Coughing, Dean reached for his glass of water, draining it halfway in a couple of long gulps.

  “Perfect Vinnie, absolutely perfect,” Adam purred, never taking his eyes off Dean.

  “Very good, sir.” Vinnie smiled knowingly. He poured them each a glass then went off in search of their tuna.

  “So…” Adam cleared his throat. “Tell me, why did you and—Maggie, right?” Dean nodded. “Why did the two of you divorce?”

  He didn’t miss the sadness that infiltrated Dean’s eyes briefly before the usual sunshine and happiness were back. “It’s…well…I don’t want you to see me in a negative light before we’ve even had a chance to get to know one another. Are you sure you want to talk about me and Mags?”

  Adam thought about that for a moment. He already knew from what Dean had said that infidelity was involved. He wondered, was it only on Dean’s part, or did they both stray? There had be
en a time in Adam’s life where he too had strayed, the stress of school and watching his lover slowly wither away all too much for the then twenty-five-year-old man. “Yeah, I think I do.”