Chapter 101

“Did you just come from Dr. Carew?”

Leo nodded. “Yeah. Thinks we’re making some progress I guess. I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should consider seeing someone, too. It doesn’t have to be him.” Leo shrugged. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I should think about it. You’re right.”

Leo leaned down to kiss his neck. “You’ve had a lot to deal with.”

“We can be in counseling together,” Nolan said. “I’m so glad I met you, Leo Winthrop. I don’t know how I could have gotten through all this without you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too.” Leo closed his eyes. “Nolan—”

“Leo—”

They both laughed.

“You first,” Leo urged.

Nolan leaned back so he could look up at Leo. “I just wanted to say I love you.”

His breath caught in his throat. His heart leapt. “I love you, too.”

“Really?”

Leo smiled. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. I think maybe I fell a little in love with you when we met right here.”

“Same here,” Nolan whispered.

“And I sure know I was halfway there the first time I had your cock in my hand.”

Nolan blushed. “Geez.”

“I like the fact I was your first,” he admitted. “It would be kind of cool if maybe I could be your only.”

Nolan straightened up a little so that they could gaze into each other’s eyes. Their faces were mere inches apart.

“Do you think that’s what we have?” Nolan asked, his breath fanning Leo’s cheeks. “Forever?”

Leo touched his lips to Nolan’s. “I don’t know if we’ve found forever, but what I do know is I love you and I want to spend a long time getting to know you better and better.”

Nolan smiled. “That sounds almost too good to be true. I used to dream about meeting a guy like you. I never thought it would really be possible.”

“And now?”

“Now…I have you, the guy of my dreams. I love you, Leo.”

And as the sun set, they shared a deep kiss, a promise of forever.

THE ENDTempted to Taste

1

Ryan Callahan pulled his motorcycle into the driveway of the isolated house and turned off the engine. He made no move to get off the bike. Wasn’t sure he was ready.

So this was the house his father, Jack Callahan, had built before Ryan was even born. It was on a hill, up a private lane. He could see the closest house a few miles away, the lights shining in the windows, but there was no direct neighbor. Which could be good or could be creepy. Ryan wasn’t sure which.

The house hadn’t been occupied for five years when the last renters had moved out. Ryan had been told a neighbor came by once a month to check on it but that it likely would need some work. Probably some paint for the outside, too, he noted, staring at the faded, cracking bright blue paint. It had been built Victorian style for his mother, Meg. Or so Ryan’s grandparents told him.

Ryan had been barely five when they’d both died in a boating accident. He couldn’t remember them, not much anyway, and he couldn’t remember this place, though apparently he’d spent his first five years in this house on a hill in Sutter’s Bay.

Of course Ryan knew the rumors even though his grandparents had tried to shield him from them. People said it was a murder suicide. Jack had drowned Meg, then himself. He had a picture of them taken around the time they got married. They looked unbelievably happy and in love. But Ryan knew life was more complicated than what could be seen in pictures.

He leaned back to ruffle the head of the small mutt poking his head out of the saddlebag on the side of his motorcycle. “I guess we’re here, Jonesy.”

Jonesy, a rather ugly dog made up of yellow matted fur, licked him enthusiastically.

There was no reason not to go into the house. Ryan had the keys in his pocket. The deed to the house in his papers. Yet still he just sat waiting on his motorcycle.

Waiting for what? He had no clue.

Finally he swung off the motorcycle. He had little with him. He had Jonesy and a small bag of personal belongings and a sleeping bag. Hell, Ryan didn’t even have a job. He’d had to borrow money to get the water, electric and gas turned on in the house. For that matter he had to borrow the money to get from Maryland, where he had lived with his grandparents and where Donovan had been, all the way to Sutter’s Bay in California.