Plaid versus Paisley E-Book

KC Burn

• Herausgeber: Dreamspinner Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 380

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

A Fabric Hearts Story Two years after his life fell apart, Will Dawson moved to Florida to start over. His job in the tech department of Idyll Fling, a gay porn studio, is ideal for him. When his boss forces him to take on a new hire, the last person he expects is Dallas Greene—the man who cost him his job and his boyfriend back in Connecticut. He doesn't know what's on Dallas's agenda, but he won't be blindsided by a wolf masquerading as a runway model. Not again. Dallas might have thrown himself on his brother's mercy, but his skills are needed at Idyll Fling. Working with Will is a bonus, since Dallas has never forgotten the man. A good working relationship is only the beginning of what Dallas wants with Will. But Dallas doesn't realize how deep Will's distrust runs, and Will doesn't know that the man he's torn between loving and hating is the boss's brother. When all truths are revealed, how can a relationship built on lies still stand?

Leseprobe

Plaid versus Paisley

By KC Burn

A Fabric Hearts Story

Two years after his life fell apart, Will Dawson moved to Florida to start over. His job in the tech department of Idyll Fling, a gay porn studio, is ideal for him. When his boss forces him to take on a new hire, the last person he expects is Dallas Greene—the man who cost him his job and his boyfriend back in Connecticut. He doesn’t know what’s on Dallas’s agenda, but he won’t be blindsided by a wolf masquerading as a runway model. Not again.

Dallas might have thrown himself on his brother’s mercy, but his skills are needed at Idyll Fling. Working with Will is a bonus, since Dallas has never forgotten the man. A good working relationship is only the beginning of what Dallas wants with Will.

But Dallas doesn’t realize how deep Will’s distrust runs, and Will doesn’t know that the man he’s torn between loving and hating is the boss’s brother. When all truths are revealed, how can a relationship built on lies still stand?

Table of Contents

Blurb

Acknowledgments

Chapter ONE

Chapter TWO

Chapter THREE

Chapter FOUR

Chapter FIVE

Chapter SIX

Chapter SEVEN

Chapter EIGHT

Chapter NINE

Chapter TEN

Chapter ELEVEN

Chapter TWELVE

Chapter THIRTEEN

Epilogue

More from KC Burns

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About the Author

By KC Burn

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Copyright

Acknowledgments

THANKS SO much to my hubby, Alex, who beta’d for me lightning fast, and also for support from Dottie, Chudney, Tara Lain, ZA Maxfield, Lex Valentine, Dolorianne, my awesome book club, and my fantastic street team. Special thanks to Chad, a coworker from the day job who helped me with some of the tech aspects. Since he’s a smart cookie, if anything’s wrong, it’s because I screwed up.

Chapter ONE

DALLAS GREENE turned off the car and slumped over the steering wheel. This wasn’t how life was supposed to be. He’d been on the road for twenty-four hours, including a couple of naps at rest stops. Please don’t let this be a mistake. All he’d done recently was make mistakes like they were his greatest skill, compounding each error with another bad decision. But sitting in the car would only delay the inevitable.

With trembling fingers, he pulled the keys from the ignition and got out. A couple of joints popped, and his muscles protested. Surely other twenty-four-year-old guys didn’t feel like they’d been run over by an eighteen-wheeler, but then, he hadn’t been at his best for two years now.

He stared at the house. It wasn’t what he expected. Bigger. Nicer. Then again, he knew for a fact his parents had been lying when they’d told him his half brother, Stefan, was destitute, diseased, depraved, and at death’s door. It had been a surprisingly lyrical rant, what with all the alliteration, but this house wasn’t any different than any of the others he’d passed on his journey from the interstate. No pickets or protestors. No slanderous graffiti. No junkies or thugs. Just a house like any other in an affluent suburb, although not nearly as affluent as his parents’ community.

After locking the car—it and its contents comprised the entirety of his possessions—he trudged up the drive. Each step made his stomach twist and roil. If he’d eaten anything in the past… oh… day or so, he’d be worried about puking.

The bright midafternoon sun beat down on him, the humidity almost brutally oppressive after the chill of the A/C in the car. It had been months since he’d felt warm all the way to his toes, though, so he wasn’t going to complain. Maybe he should have rethought wearing a suit for his impromptu drive to Florida in September. Who would have thought it would be this hot, when part of his drive down had been through fall foliage?

Most of his wardrobe consisted of business professional, and he wanted to make a good impression. And also because he’d left Connecticut yesterday wearing one, not having realized when he woke up that he’d be making an eighteen-hour drive plus stops because his life had taken yet another turn toward the shitter.

He rang the doorbell. There was a wide window to the left of the door, with decorative and functional bars curling throughout the glass. Opaque white fabric sheathed the window from the inside, and Dallas suspected that under no circumstances would anyone be able to even spot shadows of people moving within.

Antsy and anxious, he smoothed his hands down the sleeves of his gray suit jacket before he glanced down at himself. His suit was as wrinkly as a bulldog’s face.

If he had the energy, he’d sprint for his car and drive away, change into less wrinkled clothing, but odds were against him getting to the car before someone answered the door. Hell, he might just faint first.

After a minute or two, he rang the doorbell again. Then he frowned.

Shit. It was Thursday. Stefan had a job, unlike Dallas himself. Not that Dallas had a lot of details about Stefan’s business, but it stood to reason he wouldn’t be at home right now.

Fuck. Dallas leaned against the window with its protective iron curlicues and slid to the concrete. What was he supposed to do now? Go to a coffee shop and haunt it like a ghoul until evening? And what if Stefan was out of town or on vacation or something? He was so fucking stupid.

Dallas stared out at the bright afternoon. Florida was too fucking cheerful for his state of mind. His eyes started stinging, and he scrubbed at them with the back of his hands. He looked rough enough without adding red eyes to the mix; if he was going to haunt a café, he didn’t think a drugged-out meth head look would encourage anyone to let him loiter for the price of a cup of coffee.

Beside him, the door swung open, and a dark-haired man stuck his head out.

Dallas froze. Double shit. How had he fucked up enough to end up at the wrong house? Perhaps if he didn’t move, the guy would close the door and Dallas could escape this fresh humiliation with no one the wiser.

Someone from inside the house called out, “Who is it?”

“Don’t know, darling, but they left a fully packed piece-of-shit car in the driveway.”

Although his cheeks flamed in embarrassment, Dallas couldn’t bring himself to say anything. But he must have made a sound or something, because the guy glanced down and raised his eyebrows.

“Hello there.”

“Uh, hi.” Not the most stellar response Dallas could have given, but how exactly did one extricate oneself gracefully from a situation like this? If his mother had ever mentioned the appropriate etiquette, he hadn’t been paying attention.

“If you’re here for a job interview, this isn’t a good time. You really need to go to the office.” The man paused, giving him a more intense perusal. “And I’m not sure you’ll have enough stamina for this job, honey.”

Dallas’s cheeks got hotter; he knew he looked like hell. As for the other part of the man’s statement, well, it hardly mattered. The judgment in the guy’s tone gave him enough energy to get to his feet.

“Who is it?” The voice inside was closer, but muffled. “What job interview?”

Another man, wrestling a T-shirt over his head, stumbled across the threshold.

Dallas cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’m going.”

The second man’s head cleared the neck of the shirt, and despite the sandy hair swirled into bedhead and freckled skin sporting serious beard burn, he was clearly recognizable.

“Stefan?” Dallas asked.

Stefan blinked. “Dallas? What are you doing here?”

Dallas opened his mouth, but there were no words to be found. One small hiccup broke the dam. Between the relief at having found the right place and the sheer hopelessness of his life, he lost control over the tears he’d been suppressing for hours.

“Oh, jeez.” Stefan just grabbed him and wrapped him in a tight hug, letting him cry soundlessly.

The other man retreated into the house, leaving them to whatever privacy could be had on the front porch of Stefan’s house in the middle of the day.

WHEN DALLAS had finally cried himself out, Stefan pulled back. “Come inside.”

Dallas glanced back at his car, an eyesore in the upscale neighborhood.

“Your stuff will be fine. Don’t worry about it.” Stefan guided him inside, like he was infirm. The assumption wasn’t far off the mark, and Dallas was content to let someone help him. He’d been balancing on a tightrope over a moat filled with alligators for far too long.

In a modern, airy kitchen, Stefan guided him to a chair at the table. “Sit down. It’ll be okay.”

The dark-haired man was nowhere to be seen, for which Dallas was unendingly grateful. He had to look even worse now, and he wasn’t up to making small talk with a stranger. Bad enough that he barely knew Stefan.

Dazed and exhausted, Dallas obeyed, too tired to argue that it couldn’t possibly be okay. Once he mustered enough nerve to explain, Stefan would agree.

Stefan sat in the chair next to him, placed a bottle of water on the table, and handed him a cool, damp cloth.

Blinking heavy, swollen eyelids, Dallas couldn’t quite decide which one he wanted to use first. At the moment, he didn’t have the coordination to do both. Stefan took pity on him and took the cloth back.

“Drink half that bottle.”

As soon as he did, Stefan slapped the cloth back into his hand. Dallas didn’t need any instruction for that and covered his aching eyes. If he had enough moisture left in his body, he might have started crying again. Instead, he let the chill ease the swelling, and like a kid, pretended that if he couldn’t see anyone, then no one could see him either.

Unfortunately, his reprieve lasted only until the cloth became room temperature. With a sigh, he dropped it onto the table and dared a look at his brother. He drank some more water, because even in what had to be the humidity capital of the world, the pressure in his head indicated impending dehydration.

“You look like shit.”

Dallas half laughed, half winced at the blunt assessment. “I know.” His voice didn’t sound like his own, scratchy with disuse. He cleared his throat before he tried again. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

It had been close to three years since he’d seen his brother in person, and at least six months since he’d even spoken to him on the phone. He’d been so stupid, afraid of letting anyone know how badly his life had devolved into a shitstorm. Now he didn’t have a choice about explaining, unless he wanted to sleep in his car tonight.

“I… I….” Dallas didn’t even know where to begin, but Stefan shook his head.

“Don’t, Dallas. I can guess at some of it, but when I said you looked like shit, I meant it. You look like you’re ill, and although I wish you’d let me know before things got this bad, I’m glad you’re here.”

Dallas frowned. Glad? He had to have misheard. “But I… don’t have a job.”

Stefan smiled gently. “I figured. No apartment, either, judging from what I saw in the back of your car.”

“Uh. No.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No.” Not anymore, and he wasn’t about to explain his failed relationship with Hugh on top of everything else.

“Sorry about that. What about Mom?”

Dallas shook his head. “I was supposed to move back home. Then Dad found out I was gay too.”

Stefan’s expression darkened. He had to be biting back sour words about the stepfather who’d kicked him out for the same reason when he was sixteen and Dallas was nine. At the time, no one had explained to Dallas why his older brother was no longer around. Dallas had been too young and too scared by the whole thing to ask questions. When he’d later found out the truth—right around the time he started wondering about his own sexuality—he’d prudently decided to stay in the closet, but deep in his heart he’d assumed that his dad would give him a pass that Stefan never earned, since Stefan was the child of their mom’s previous marriage. But the genetic connection hadn’t been enough, and Dallas hadn’t seen the catastrophe coming.

He should have, though. Everything else in his life had gone down the shitter; getting kicked out was the metaphorical last straw.

Instead of losing his temper, though, Stefan squeezed his arm. “We’ll unpack your car tomorrow, but for now, go grab whatever’s got your toiletries in it, and a change of clothes, while I set up the spare room.”

Crying must have fucked up his ears, because no way was this going to be that simple. A few questions and Stefan was giving him access to his house?

“Unpack? Are you sure?”

Stefan adopted a stern expression and stared into his eyes. “You know I’m still running Idyll Fling, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Starting up a porn studio had been the breaking point for the Greenes. Stefan had been disowned as officially as it was possible to get. Five years later, and starting to question why boys were more appealing than girls, Dallas had cowered even farther back in the closet; his father had been in a black temper for months as he tried to prevent Stefan from using his grandmother’s inheritance to start up Idyll Fling. Dallas hadn’t even had the courage to check out any of the videos Idyll Fling produced, partly because he didn’t know if his brother performed in any of them, and that would have been cause for substantial mental scarring.

“I’d like to pretend porn is a profession just like any other,” Stefan said. “But I can’t deny I’ve seen more than my fair share of guys who turn to it because they’ve simply run out of other options if they want to keep themselves fed and sheltered. With some of them, it’s easy to tell all they need is a hand to get back on their feet, and I’ve let those guys stay in our spare room. If I’d do that for employees, why wouldn’t I do that for my little brother?”

“Half brother.”

Stefan rolled his eyes. “You know I’ve never cared about that.”

“Me neither,” Dallas whispered. “Are you sure?” Relief made his eyelids droop, and he wondered if he was going to fall asleep right here at the table.

“Of course I’m sure. I’d like you to tell me the whole story sometime, but right now you need sleep more than anything else. C’mon.”

Stefan helped him to his feet and led him to the stairs. “What about my stuff? A change of clothes?”

“We’ll worry about that when you’re conscious again. I’ll leave some of my clothes for you—when you get up you can shower or come down and eat.”

Each stair seemed higher than the one before, and when he reached the top, Stefan right on his heels, Dallas’s breath was already labored, like he’d run a marathon.

The dark-haired man who’d opened the front door emerged from one of the rooms, a sympathetic smile on his face. “I’ve put fresh towels on the dresser.”

Stefan gave the man a quick kiss. “Thanks, Paul. I was just coming to set up the room.”

Paul. Of course. Stefan had mentioned him, briefly, but the past two years had been mostly a blur for Dallas, and he could—hopefully—be forgiven for forgetting Stefan had a boyfriend. Husband, maybe? He didn’t think Stefan would have gotten married without telling him, but he’d been so isolated lately, he couldn’t even be sure of that.

“It was pretty obvious he was another of your foundlings, I just didn’t realize at first he was your brother.”

Dallas didn’t much care for being called a foundling, despite the truth of it, but at least Paul didn’t sound upset or disparaging. Nevertheless, he held out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Paul.”

Paul ignored his hand and hauled him in for a hug. “I’m glad to meet Stefan’s brother. You’re welcome here as long as you need.”

Like Stefan, he sounded completely serious, and despite Dallas’s earlier waterworks, his eyes started burning again.

“Hey, babe, let him go. He’s dead on his feet. You guys can get to know each other better after he’s had some sleep.” Stefan extricated him and turned him toward the spare room.

Dallas only hoped sleep wouldn’t elude him like it had for weeks now. He heard Paul murmur something to Stefan before he ran down the stairs, but Dallas was more interested in the bed. He wasn’t sure if it was a queen or a king, but the pillowy bedding drew him like a superpowered magnet. Crisp white sheets—freshly laundered, judging by the scent of fabric softener—gleamed in the sunshine streaming through the window. Stefan bustled into the room and drew blackout curtains across the two wide windows. They weren’t exactly plunged into darkness, but once the door was shut, it would be damned close.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall, next door on the right. I’ll just go grab you a change of clothes.”

As soon as Stefan left the room, Dallas kicked off his shoes, then stripped off his sad excuse for a suit, letting it drop to the floor beside the bed. He crawled under the covers and let the plushy comfort do its job. His eyelids dropped shut immediately, like sleep had only been waiting for him to drive to Florida to find it.

DALLAS AWOKE to silence, a headache throbbing at his temples. He didn’t know if he’d been asleep for an hour or eight; the light seeping around the curtains wasn’t enough to tell him. If he was going to stay in this room for any length of time, he’d have to get an alarm clock or remember to set the alarm on his phone. At least he felt a little better, although given his recent state of health, that didn’t mean a whole lot.

He stretched a bit, shifting on the comfortable mattress. Falling back asleep for several days sounded both awesome and easily accomplished, but he wasn’t about to abuse his brother’s hospitality like that. Stefan’s warm welcome had been wonderful, but Dallas had to… explain. Or something. Preferably without breaking down into a sobbing mess like he’d done yesterday. Stefan couldn’t have been serious about Dallas staying as long as he liked; that was just ridiculous. Dallas had every intention of getting a job and getting his own place. Letting Stefan and Paul know that he’d be out of their hair as soon as possible would relieve their minds.

Humiliating himself by telling Stefan—or anyone—what an idiot he’d been, how this awful situation was mostly his fault, wasn’t something he was looking forward to at all.

Shifting again, more forcefully, a waft of air from under the covers hit him, and he wrinkled his nose. Holy fuck, but he stank. Since he was covered in grime and his mouth tasted like he’d been licking Lucifer’s ass, he was going to take advantage of Stefan’s invitation to shower before he showed his face. Having a few more minutes to gather the remnants of his courage wouldn’t go to waste either.

With a groan, he levered himself to a sitting position. If his doctor was to be believed, one day soon he’d feel like his old self. He snorted. He already felt old; he wanted to feel like his young twenty-four-year-old self again. Or at least he wanted to feel as young as a twenty-four-year-old should. He couldn’t imagine that almost hitting the quarter-century mark meant feeling like death every day.

The unopened bottle of water on the bedside table and pile of folded clothes and towels on a chair by the closet indicated Stefan had come back into the room sometime after Dallas had passed out. The relief of having a place to stay—however briefly—that wasn’t his car let him sleep more deeply than he had in a long time.

The pain in his temples pulsed, and he grabbed the water, gulping it down in a couple of swallows. He had some painkillers in his car, but he hoped this was simple dehydration rather than the precursor of another tension headache. If water and a shower provided no relief, he’d grab his new meds. He couldn’t exactly afford to take them heedlessly. As he stumbled over to the chair, he wondered what had happened to the suit he’d worn before he went to bed.

Clutching the clothes and towels to his chest, he went in search of the bathroom, uncaring that he was wandering around his brother’s house in his boxer briefs.

An hour later he was clean, had shaved, and was mostly refreshed. If the water washed away more tears along with all the grime, there weren’t any witnesses. On weakened, trembling limbs he made his way downstairs. Hunger gnawed at his belly for the first time since he’d left the hospital. He needed to get something to eat before he passed out, which meant braving whomever he could hear rattling around in the kitchen.

Paul stood in front of an opened cupboard, staring at its contents, but he whirled around as soon as Dallas walked into the kitchen.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Dallas smiled weakly. The clock on the stove read 6:12, but it was the tropics. Might be Thursday evening or Friday morning. He hadn’t thought to check his phone, but he didn’t remember plugging it in before he passed out, so it was about as useful as a shiny oblong rock.

“How long did I sleep?”

“A long fucking time. Boy, you must have been exhausted.”

Didn’t answer his question, but then again, it wasn’t exactly like he had a job to get to.

Dallas shrugged. He’d been exhausted for the past two years. He didn’t remember what fully rested felt like, but he hoped to find out.

Paul strode over and gripped his chin, peering intently into his eyes. Dallas tried to backpedal, not sure what was going on, but Paul simply smiled and let him go.

“Looks like a solid night’s sleep did wonders, although you still have a ways to go.”

Okay. It was definitely Friday, although morning or night was still in question.

Paul wasn’t done talking. “I’m just amazed you slept through dinner last night. We ordered pizza, and the smell of pizza would rouse me from the dead.”

The mere mention of pizza triggered Dallas’s stomach, and the sound of rumbling rose up between them.

“Sorry.” Dallas’s cheeks heated. He didn’t think his stomach could handle pizza just yet, but it felt like eons since he’d had some.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Paul’s tone was matter of fact, rather than pitying. “You sit down, and I’ll whip up some eggs.”

Eggs had to mean morning, right? “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can get my own breakfast.” It might take him forever at his current shuffling pace, but he could do it.

“Honey, you look like a stiff wind would blow you over, and you’re in Florida during hurricane season. Sit down and let me feed you up some. You’ll have plenty of time to fend for yourself this weekend.”

“Fend for myself?” Dallas decided to follow Paul’s direction, as he got the impression it wasn’t optional, ignoring the bit about hurricane season. He had enough to worry about without adding Mother Nature to his list.

“Hey, look who arose from the dead.” Stefan strode into the kitchen and kissed Paul before coming back to the table. He gave Dallas a one-armed hug around the shoulders before sitting down.

“Paul was saying something about fending for myself? I don’t want to be a bother. I can get out of your hair.” He didn’t want to, though, and the thought of getting back in his car again might kill him dead.

Fortunately, Stefan looked at him like he was an idiot. “Don’t be ridiculous. We booked a shoot at a house on the beach this weekend. I’m just glad you woke up before we had to get on the road.”

Dallas blinked, blindsided by the knowledge his brother was going to film attractive men having sex all weekend, while he still had no idea what he was supposed to do or where he should go. “And you’re okay with me staying here?”

Stefan’s cheery smile fell away, leaving him looking stern and surprisingly like their mother. “Dallas, I’m not going to deny that I want to know, exactly, what’s up with you. If only because I’m worried about your health. But you’re my brother and, as far as I’m concerned, the only blood relation I’ve got left. Stay here as long as you need. Let me help you out.”

Dallas’s eyes burned at the unreserved offer. Stefan had said something similar when he’d arrived, but it had sounded so perfect, Dallas had almost convinced himself he’d dreamed it.

“Thank you.” His voice crackled as he tried to speak through tightened vocal cords. While he was trying to think of something else to say, Paul slipped a plate in front of him. Fluffy scrambled eggs with perfectly browned toast looked like they’d been prepared by a professional chef.

“I can make up some bacon or sausages, if you’d like, but I thought quick might be better than trying to get a full breakfast together while you’re probably starving.”

Dallas could hardly believe Stefan’s boyfriend had cooked him breakfast and was waiting to see if he should cook even more food. “No, thank you. This should be perfect.” Bacon and sausage weren’t on his eating plan yet, either, but eggs and toast were ideal.

“Orange juice? Coffee?”

For just a moment, the idea of coffee made his stomach flip. “Water will be fine.”

Paul grabbed a bottle from the fridge while Dallas started eating gingerly. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

The compliment earned him a warm smile. Paul was probably as much older than Stefan as Stefan was older than Dallas, maybe about the same age as Hugh, but aside from age, there were no obvious similarities between Dallas’s one and only boyfriend and Stefan’s.

“I’m afraid we pretty much cleaned out the fridge, but there are plenty of canned goods in the cupboards, and a bunch of stuff in the pantry and freezer as well. We’ll do a big grocery shop when we get back, and we can find out what kind of food will work for all three of us.” As he spoke, Paul gestured at the relevant parts of the kitchen—almost as large as the one in Dallas’s parents’ home.

Dallas sighed. Grocery shopping with his dietary restrictions wasn’t going to be difficult. Simple, wholesome, and easy to digest. Even some of the things his doctor told him he could eat again turned his stomach now.

“Do you have a computer or phone or anything?” Stefan asked. Sad that he should have to; most times it would be a given. Dallas hadn’t gotten himself into such dire straits that he’d had to give those up, but if he didn’t find work soon, he’d have to pare down his phone service even more. The laptop was essential for his work—if he got to the point where he had to sell it, all those years of college, fighting his father over his choice of major, would have been a complete and utter fucking waste.

“I have both. My laptop’s in the car.”

Stefan nodded and slid a piece of paper to him. “This is the Wi-Fi password and network name. And don’t worry about unpacking your car.”

Those words had Dallas’s shoulders drooping. Why would there be any reason to unpack? He wasn’t going to be here long enough to bother.

“Dallas. For fuck’s sake.” Stefan’s irritated tone brought Dallas’s head up, and made Paul frown.

“What?”

“Listen to me. You can stay here. As long as you need. Don’t read any hidden meaning into my words. I know that dealing with Walter and Mom has probably trained you to think that no one says what they mean, but I waded through a lot of shit to make sure I wasn’t under their influence. I’m not like them and I never will be. I don’t want you to unpack the car because I don’t want you to overexert yourself this weekend when we’re not here to help you.”

Shit. Dallas must look even worse than he thought, if Stefan was worried the stuff in his car might kill him.

“Okay. Sure.”

Stefan lifted an eyebrow. “You better not be lying to me. Paul and I will help you unload the car when we get back. If you’re worried about keeping it all safe, you can pull the car into the garage. We should be back sometime Tuesday.”

“Thank you.” Dallas had a feeling those words were going to get huge workout over the next little while. “I’ll get started on the job hunt right away. So I can at least pay you some rent, or contribute to expenses.”

A glare the likes of which Dallas hadn’t seen in over a decade graced his older brother’s face. “No. You will not. You will sleep, eat, and relax. Sit out by the pool, maybe. There is no rush, I promise. And besides, I might have a few ideas about that. We can talk when we get back.”

“Really?” Dallas bit his lip. “I guess it’s just as well. I’m not supposed to work full-time yet, and it’s not easy to get part-time jobs in my field.”

Stefan’s eyes widened. “As in, medically not supposed to work full-time?”

Dallas nodded.

“Then I better not see you having done one thing to exert yourself when I get back.”

They’d had a weird relationship when they’d both been living with their parents. Dallas had idolized his older brother, but with almost eight years between them, they’d had little in common. Dallas had, by virtue of being a kid, ended up annoying his brother more often than not. And he’d been frequently left in Stefan’s care in lieu of having an actual babysitter when his parents went out. This situation reminded him of those times, and he experienced a minor brat resurgence.

Dallas stuck out his tongue. “Or else what? You gonna ground me?” He made sure his tone was teasing, though, because he was grateful down to his toes that Stefan was even more gracious and helpful than Dallas could have imagined.

Stefan just smirked. “Oh, I’ll think of something suitably awful as a punishment. Dall-ass.”

The emphasis of the last syllable of his name was one of Stefan’s few available avenues of revenge when they’d been younger, since Stefan got in shit for things Dallas did all the time. Such was the disparity of affection Dallas’s father had doled out, a disparity Dallas hadn’t even quite been aware of until he’d grown and was able to examine his childhood with more objective eyes.

“Okay, okay. Don’t start calling me that again!”

Dallas glanced over at Paul, who had his lips pressed together against a laugh while he stared at the ceiling. Dallas allowed himself a little smile. Things had taken a definite turn away from bleak, and it was going to take a while to adjust. Waking up every day filled with dread and worry had become a habit he needed to break, and staying with his brother might give him the chance to do that.

Chapter TWO

WILL DAWSON scrubbed a hand over his face. He was beat, and it was only Wednesday. A derisive snort escaped him. Now that he was working just about every day including weekends, and often long into the night, the actual day of the week had almost ceased to matter.

Kyle looked up from his computer. “What’s up, boss?”

Will gritted his teeth. He’d forgotten he wasn’t alone anymore. Having an intern should have been a relief, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if Kyle planned to try and steal his job.

“Oh. Nothing. Just a stray thought. How are you doing on those password resets?”

“All done. Did you want me to work on that security patch?”

“No, no. It’ll have to be done overnight, and the server rebooted. I’ll schedule it and monitor it from home.” Maybe. He’d been spending more hours in the server room at Idyll Fling studios than ever before. But that didn’t mean he was letting Kyle have enough access to apply security patches.

“What else did you want me to do?”

“Why don’t you just go for lunch? It’s early, but I’ll have something else for you when you get back.”

The real answer was nothing. Will wanted him to do nothing at all, but he already had time-management issues. By rights, he should have a minimum of one other full-time system administrator and a database administrator, but realistically more like three or four or five additional team members. The owner of the studio, Stefan, asked repeatedly if he needed more headcount—which, given that he worked for a porn studio, always made him giggle a bit—but aside from Kyle, the part-time intern, Will had always declined.

Idyll Fling grew bigger every year, and the strain on the servers, never mind just keeping up with the various attempted security breaches, got worse and worse. Asking for more staff would bring more people into his little fiefdom, and he wasn’t sure he could bear it. Not after the fiasco of his last job. Idyll Fling had been a refuge, and sacrificing sleep to make sure no one else got their grubby mitts on his servers was a price he was willing to pay.

Of course, if something catastrophic happened, he’d be screwed six ways over, but his mom always told him not to borrow trouble. Which was good advice, since more than his fair share of trouble seemed to find him.

Kyle scampered out of the server room, the door closing behind him with a bang. Two years ago when Stefan had reached out through a professional networking site and offered him what seemed like a dream job, and not only because he’d had to move back in with his parents, Will decided to set up an office in the server room, partly for convenience, partly because he liked having the privacy, but mostly because it was cold in there, a welcome escape from the oppressive Florida heat. When he’d agreed to take on an intern, he’d had to jury-rig another workstation, but if he hired more people? It would involve renovations and setting up a proper office space. Seemed like a lot of trouble for no good reason.

Alone again, Will sighed. No matter how much he tried to recalibrate his thinking, Kyle was an intruder, and Will could only relax when he was gone.

Nevertheless, he’d have to find Kyle something to do. It made even less sense for Stefan to pay Kyle to be a doorstop, and not even a particularly interesting one at that. They got a lot of e-mails related to tech issues, usually requiring password resets or updating browsers. But Kyle was working toward a degree in software engineering, and this job didn’t even take up three full days, nor was it challenging for Kyle in any way. But better him than Will. That’s what interns were for, right?

Will sank into his chair and spun around. He had a shitload of work to do, and that wasn’t even taking into account his second job. Hobby? Because for sure it was more fun than work, but the added responsibilities were weighty nonetheless. But the peace and quiet that came from being alone? That deserved a few moments to just sit back and enjoy.

Like his thoughts had conjured up a demon, a knock sounded at the door, and Will scowled. Fucking figured, the second he had a minute alone, someone had to come along and bug him. Personal visits usually meant someone fucked something up, which was never good news.

He launched himself out of the chair and whipped the door open. “What?”

His best friend, Raven, stood on the other side, one eyebrow raised. “Really? That’s how you greet people now?”

Will snorted. “That’s how I always greet people, and you know it.”

Raven tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, I know. Can I come in? Or are you able to take off the shackles and go out for lunch?”

He thought about it for a minute. He’d rather stay in, but he didn’t want to curtail any conversation with Raven when Kyle returned. Will was probably just as jealous of his friendship with Raven as he was about his servers. “Let me send a quick message to Stefan, and grab my phone. Got any place in mind?” Will had to ask.

Idyll Fling had converted a large industrial space to make sets and changing rooms and bathing facilities as well as a few offices, but it was surrounded by a big swath of jack shit. The bordering land usually had cows grazing, for fuck’s sake. Raven was an Orlando native, and he’d assured him more than once that it was normal. Zoning or taxes or something, but as a transplant from Connecticut, it was still weird. Regardless of how strange it was, “going out for lunch” meant driving at least a few miles away.

“Feel like Chinese?”

Will shuddered. “Hell no. I can’t believe Chinese food would taste so different down here, but no. Thai, maybe? Or Indian?”

Raven laughed. “I’ll have to take a trip to your hometown and check out the Chinese food. Why do you suppose it’s only Chinese that’s so different?”

It wasn’t. Not at all. Will had actually been surprised at how many things were different about living in Orlando, aside from never having to drive through snow again. But most of the changes he’d been able to deal with.

“Dunno. But it’s just not right.”

“Anyway, let’s have Indian.” Raven turned and led the way out of the server room into the rabbit warren of the studio.

For a while, Will had been convinced Raven’s accident had also ended their friendship, but he’d been happily proved wrong, and several weeks ago, Will helped Raven start a new business venture called Tartan Candy. For Raven, it was a job, but for Will, it was an enjoyable hobby where he got to hang out with his best friend, wear a kilt, and get paid.

He needed to do something with his kilts because he hadn’t had the time to audition for any nearby Renaissance faires since he’d moved to Florida.

AT THE restaurant, they ordered quickly, and just as quickly, fluffy, warm naan appeared at their table to whet their appetites.

Will grabbed a full piece of naan. He’d never be as sleek and beautiful as his best friend, and giving up bread had never made a difference in his waistline, so he saw no reason to deny himself.

Raven ripped off a small piece and leaned back in his chair. Back when Raven had been working for Idyll Fling, Will never saw him eat sweets or bready carbs, but after the accident and his subsequent retirement, Raven had a little more leeway in his diet and seemed all the happier for it. Another snort nearly escaped before Will suppressed it. Probably it was Raven’s incredibly sweet boyfriend that made Raven happier. Sugar was just an added bonus.

Raven pursed his lips, an expression that would make just about anyone think of blow jobs, but Will was made of stronger stuff. He’d never really thought of Raven like that. Objectively, he knew Raven was gorgeous, but they definitely made better friends than anything else.

When the silence continued, Will was about ready to squirm in his seat. Obviously Raven had something he wanted to say, and it felt a bit like Will was in trouble. Between working at Idyll Fling and partnering in the small but thriving Tartan Candy, he didn’t have the opportunity to fuck up.

His pulse sped up suddenly. What if he’d forgotten something Raven had asked him to do? Or even worse… had he forgotten about one of their events?

“Seriously, how are you doing?” Raven nibbled at his naan.

Probably his panic hadn’t been warranted. Will forced himself to relax and pulled in a couple of deep breaths.

“Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Okay, that sounded too defensive by half. “How are you doing? Caleb treating you well?”

Raven’s blush, something Will hadn’t even known Raven was capable of, was a beautiful thing. He was so happy for his friend, and incredibly envious, even though it had taken a painful argument at a recent family event to solidify them. Before Will had moved here… before the incident, he’d had a good job and a perfectly adequate boyfriend. He’d thought he’d be sailing into his thirties the way he believed most people did, upwardly mobile and in a settled relationship that was leading to marriage, and if not kids, then definitely a dog or two. One gorgeous asshole had been single-handedly responsible for Will losing everything, and he’d spent his thirtieth birthday alone in an empty apartment in a city where he didn’t know a soul.

Taking the job at Idyll Fling had been just what he needed. He’d been able to get out of his parents’ spare room, away from their smothering concern, and get the hell out of the state for a fresh start. Giving up seasons had been a small price to pay for the opportunity to escape his complete humiliation. Although he didn’t actually miss his ex, he did miss having a boyfriend. And if he was going to find another one, he’d have to get his ass out of the studio. Not that he had anything against the porn models, but Raven had been the oldest one working for Idyll Fling and now thirty-two, Will was about four years older still. None of the models were old enough to want what he wanted out of life, if they’d even give an older guy like him a second look.

When Will finally shook himself out of his musing, he realized he’d completely missed whatever virtues Raven had extolled about his boyfriend. Just as well. Caleb was a great catch, but happy could only hide the envy for so long.

“We all ready for the convention this weekend?”

A slight frown wrinkled Raven’s forehead. “I was wondering if I should try and recruit more help.”

Another wave of panic washed over him. “Why? The two of us should be enough, surely.”

Raven’s frown intensified. “I just don’t want to be the reason you’re stressed. I know work has been kicking your ass lately. Have you asked Stefan about getting more people in than just an intern?”

The question raised Will’s hackles. Fucked if he was going to ask Stefan that. Bad enough he allowed himself to be made redundant at his previous job; he sure as shit wasn’t going to ask for it at this one. “Work is fine. Or is this just an excuse to replace me with someone better-looking?”

Shit. Will clamped his mouth shut. Being an asshole wasn’t called for, even if he did sometimes wonder why Raven thought he was a good choice for Tartan Candy. Will wasn’t in Raven’s league.

The silence grew heavy and oppressive, and it was all Will’s fault. “I’m sorry, Raven. I guess I’m a little more stressed than I thought, but a good night’s sleep will put me right.” If a good night’s sleep lasted a week or so.

“You know I don’t want to replace you.” Raven leaned in, voice earnest. “You’re my best friend.”

“What about Caleb?” And now Will was playing the part of a whiny, jealous bitch. “Sorry. Sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Just because I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I can’t have friends.” Raven frowned. “It doesn’t, does it?”

Will smothered a laugh, because finding Raven’s predicament funny shouldn’t have been the highlight of this awful conversation. Raven had never had a boyfriend before Caleb, and Will truly didn’t begrudge him any happiness.

“No, it doesn’t. Good friends don’t forget about their friends when they start dating someone.” Even if they had less time for their friends than before. This was not the only relationship and dating advice Will had given Raven. Not that Will was an expert by any means or he’d have a boyfriend now too. Previous experience had taught him he didn’t necessarily know how to make it all right, but he pretty much knew where all his relationships had gone so wrong.

“Ha. I knew it. But seriously, I don’t want to replace you.” Raven squinted at him. “If you’re worried, though, you could let me make an appointment with my stylist. You’re getting a little shaggy.”

Will rolled his eyes. Even though they’d only been doing the Tartan Candy gigs for a few weeks, Raven trying to “style” Will had been going on for a lot longer than that. “No. Thanks. I thought you said my rugged natural look was a good foil for you.”

Certainly his wavy, untamable blond hair, which he usually wore way too long, would never conform to Raven’s stringent manga-like style, and he’d look like an idiot with bright red or blue or purple streaks, all of which Raven had sported over the years Will had known him.

“Rugged and natural, yes. But you’re a short step away from feral and possibly rabid.”