Saving Grapes - Madeline Kirby Page 0,3

his head slowly left and right. He knew he was going to regret this. “When do you think he’ll get here?”

Chuck shifted in his chair. “When, Chuck?” Thom looked up at him and Chuck had the grace to look sheepish when he replied.

“He should be here tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow? You were pretty damn confident I’d say yes, weren’t you?”

“Geez, Thom. I figured you would, but if you didn’t I’d have figured something out. I just had to get him out of there, you know?”

“Yeah,” Thom sighed. “I know. You’re one of the good guys, Chuck. Now get out so I can wash sheets and clean the guest bath and all that other stuff I have to do. Unless you want to stay and help?”

Chuck jumped up, grabbing the remaining half of his sandwich, and bolted for his truck. “Thanks, Thom!” He called over his shoulder. “I owe you one!”

Thom shook his head as he started cleaning up the lunch mess. Chuck owed him a lot more than one. He had a feeling his life was about to get damn complicated. He just hoped Chuck’s nephew was skinny, ugly, and buck-toothed.

Chapter 2

HOW COME I never seem to catch a break? Thom thought to himself as he watched Chuck’s nephew walk up the drive the next evening. A little over six feet tall, he guessed. Broader in the shoulders than Thom, but not muscle-bound. He looked fit and athletic with sandy hair worn shaggy and covering his ears. As he got closer, Thom saw the younger man had deep brown eyes, just like Chuck and his daughters. Please, oh please, let him have crooked teeth. Thom cursed inwardly when Ben was introduced, extending his hand and smiling. Damn, perfect, strong white teeth and a dimple in one cheek. Fuck me, Thom thought. My life is going to be a living hell.

“Come on in,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice didn’t seem to work. He held the screen door open so Chuck and Ben could precede him into the house. He couldn’t stop himself from looking and damn if Ben didn’t have a perfect ass to boot – not too flat, not too full, just toned and strong. “Have a seat. Can I get you guys anything to drink?” he stopped in the door leading to the kitchen, trying to focus on being a host to distract him from less wholesome thoughts.

“Not for me, Thom,” said Chuck. “I’ve got to get back home. I just wanted to drop Ben off and make sure he got here okay.”

“Okay. How about you, Ben? Want a beer?”

“Sounds great. Thanks.” The smile again. Thom spun on his heel and headed into the kitchen to get a couple of beers. That dimple was really just too much.

Ben watched Thom head into the kitchen and the smile turned to a moue of confusion. Had he somehow managed to offend the other man? Maybe he was uncomfortable knowing Ben was gay?

“Hey, Uncle Chuck?” He started walking towards the front door with his uncle. “You told Thom about me, right? Is he okay with it? With me being here?”

Chuck patted his nephew on the back, “Don’t worry about it son. He’s fine. It’ll be an adjustment for him. He’s lived alone for a long time. It’ll do him good to have someone else around for a bit, and I think you can be a big help to him here.”

Ben nodded. “Okay. Thanks. Thanks for everything Uncle Chuck. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t. I’ll bring the rest of your stuff over when it gets here. Did you bring your bag in from the truck?”

“Crap, no,” Ben rolled his eyes at his forgetfulness. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where’s Ben?” Thom asked, returning from the kitchen with a couple of beers.

“Ran out to the truck to get his bag. I gotta get going, Thom. See you soon.” Chuck opened the screen door just as Ben came bounding back up the steps with his duffel bag. “’Night Ben,” he said as he passed his nephew on the porch.

“’Night Uncle Chuck.” Ben came back inside, dropping his bag inside the door and smiling at Thom. “Hey, I haven’t seen this before,” he said, reaching for one of the brown bottles in Thom’s hand.

“It’s from a place near Portland – I don’t think they sell it outside the state.”

“Yeah? Cool.” Ben took a taste, and Thom couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man’s throat, watching his Adam’s apple move up and down as