The First Step, page 6
“Thank goodness.”
Reed grinned. “Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda cute when you’re worried?” The words slurred a little, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. He was so fucking tired. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sleep for a month.
Justin frowned, but where before there had only been worry in his expression, there was a certain softness too. “I really should strangle you this time. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking. When I get into the zone, I kind of forget everything else.”
“You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
Reed pressed his lips together. He’d nearly gotten himself killed by a taxi a few months back in New York, chasing after a city alderman for a comment on a story. Not to mention the tumble he’d taken two years ago climbing scaffolding near city hall to get a better shot of the governor. That particular stunt had landed him in the emergency room with two cracked ribs.
“I’m clearly not the first person who’s pointed that out.”
Reed shook his head.
“And you think my job is dangerous.” Justin sighed.
Reed looked around and realized they were sitting in the pilot building. “How long’ve I been out?”
“A few hours. I tied the boat up. If you hadn’t been a pain in the ass when we arrived at the docks, I’d have taken you straight to the ER.”
Reed searched his memory and recalled insisting—quite vocally—that he was perfectly fine, that he hadn’t hit his head, and that he just needed a nap. He guessed he’d fallen asleep after that. “Sorry.”
“Kerry dropped us here from the marina and took Leila back home with her.”
“Leila?”
“My dog.”
“Oh.” Why was he relieved that Leila was the guy’s dog? Justin was a nice guy and all, but…. “So your boat’s in Southport? That isn’t where you usually keep her, is it?”
Justin shook his head. “I wasn’t exactly going to sail back to Carolina Beach, as bad as you looked. Frankly, if you hadn’t come around a few minutes ago, I had half a mind to call EMS.”
“I’m sorry.”
Justin shrugged. “I’ll sail her home tomorrow. No big deal.”
“Oh.”
“Can you sit up?” Justin asked.
“Yeah.” He tried to sit, but his muscles felt like jelly. Justin put an arm around his back and helped him up. “Thanks.”
“Here.” Justin unscrewed the top and handed him a bottle of water.
“Thanks.” Reed drank half of it without a breath.
“How’re you feeling now?”
“Tired.” Understatement of the century.
“You can’t really swim against a current like that.” Justin smiled reassuringly. “No one can.”
“No kidding.” Reed drew a long breath. “I really am sorry.”
“I know.”
For the first time, Reed realized he was wearing someone else’s clothing. He touched the sweatshirt and asked, “Yours?”
“Yep.”
Which meant Justin had probably taken his wet clothing off. His cheeks heated. Why the hell was he so embarrassed? “Thanks.”
“Welcome.” Justin didn’t look away.
Why would he care what I look like naked? Even if Justin was gay, he hadn’t shown the slightest inclination. Not to mention the whole business and pleasure thing.
Reed glanced out the window, where the sky was tinged with pink and yellow. “My rental’s over by the docks,” he said. “If you could drop me—”
“The hell you’re driving.”
“I’m fine. Really.” He didn’t sound convincing, even to himself.
“Kerry drove your car over. I’ll be driving you back to your hotel.” Justin’s expression reminded Reed of the immense container ship he’d sailed into the Port of Wilmington, immutable and steely. Faced with such determination, Reed’s only option was to back down.
“Okay, but you really don’t need to.” This whole thing—knowing Justin had rescued his sorry ass—left Reed feeling ill at ease. He didn’t like being beholden to anyone, and he hated that the entire situation was his own fault. And yet somehow, Justin taking care of him felt good.
“I need to go back that way anyhow.” Justin stood and offered Reed his hand.
“Right.” Carolina Beach was past Wilmington, wasn’t it? “Thanks.” He took Justin’s hand. Justin put his arm around Reed to steady him and they walked slowly out of the building and down the steps to Reed’s car. In spite of his screaming muscles, Justin’s steady presence felt really good.
Reed shivered as Justin opened the door to his hotel room and helped him inside about forty minutes later. “You doing okay?” Justin asked.
“I’m fine.” His legs still felt like jelly and he’d wobbled all the way down the hallway, but all he really needed was a little more rest.
Justin frowned but said nothing. At a time like this, Reed was happy Justin wasn’t very talkative.
“Hungry? Thirsty?” Justin asked.
The guy could be kind, Reed had to give him that. “No, thank you. I’m fine. Really, Justin. You’ve already done too much.” Not to mention you saved my life out there.
Justin ignored this and helped him onto the bed. He lifted the covers and pulled them over Reed. Reed yawned. He’d close his eyes for a few minutes and rest, and then he’d get some work done.
REED WOKE to sunlight streaming in the window of his hotel room. It took him a minute to realize not only was it Monday morning, but that Justin was sitting on the chair by the window reading the copy of Eats and Treats Reed had brought with him to get a feel for the magazine’s style. “Like to cook?”
“Did you know you can bake in the microwave?” Justin chuckled and set the magazine down.
“You stayed all night?” Reed realized how rude that sounded and added, “You really didn’t need to. Thank you.”
“No problem.” Justin gestured to the desk. “Got you something to eat.”
Reed sat up, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Shit, that hurts.
“Let me help.”
Reed waved Justin off. “I’m fine. I promise.” He put some weight on his legs. The wobble was gone, although every muscle in his legs and ass screamed in response. “See?”
“Yep.” Justin, who’d been watching him and was ready to swoop in and rescue him if he fell, appeared to relax.
Reed pulled out the bagel with cream cheese he found in the bag, then realized there was something at the bottom. He opened the small package and found several slices of lox. “I love lox. Thanks.”
Justin pressed his lips together and his cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t sure. Not like everyone from New York City does.”
“Thanks.” Reed put the salmon atop his bagel and glanced back at Justin. “Aren’t you eating?”
“Already did.”
“Oh.”
Justin stood. “I’d better go.” He looked as uncomfortable as Reed felt. The entire situation felt way too intimate.
“Thanks again for yesterday.”
Justin shrugged. “I left my cell number on the desk. Call me if you need anything.” He waved and was out the door a moment later.
Reed stared at the bagel for a long moment. Part of him missed the prickly Justin—it was so much easier not to think about how attractive the guy was when he was a pain in the ass.
Stay in the game! This is about getting your job back and nothing more.
He stood and stretched. He’d take a shower and send Justin’s clothes to be cleaned. He had five days left before his flight back to LaGuardia. If he had time to imagine the kinds of things he was imagining with Justin, it meant he needed to get his head out of the sexy-man-cloud and focus on his work.
Chapter Ten
JUSTIN PULLED off his baseball cap and fanned himself with it. Early September and temperatures were still perpetually stuck in the midnineties. He’d spent the morning trimming the bushes and tying back one of the wild grapevines that climbed over the back wall of the garage. He’d meant to work on the lawn before it got too hot, but as usual, he underestimated the gardening job. Now it was well after noon, and if his lawn hadn’t been looking more like a jungle, he’d have walked over to the beach with a cooler and a towel. Leila, perennially energetic dog that she was, had been happily chasing him and the mower around the yard since he’d started, taking breaks only to drink from the water bowl he’d left on the porch.
He was too much a creature of habit to sleep in on his days off—early mornings had been the norm for most of his years at sea, not to mention in his work as a pilot. Today was no exception. He’d managed to sleep until five forty-five, when he’d taken Leila for a walk on the beach and watched the sunrise.
“She likes Chase and Benjamin,” Kerry said when he picked Leila up from her house, “but she’s never as happy as when she sees your truck pullin’ into the driveway.”
Kerry had been the one to suggest he adopt the scrawny hound mix from the pound three years before. “You need each other,” she’d told him. When he’d protested that being on call for a week at a time wasn’t a great fit for a dog, she’d volunteered her husband and two boys as permanent petsitters. Leila didn’t seem to mind, and the boys would often stop by when Justin was home just to spend time with her.
He bent down and scratched the back of a furry ear. “Too bad I can’t train you to cut the lawn for me.” She nudged him to continue scratching and he laughed. Kerry was right about most things.
He sighed and got to his feet. Not for the first time that afternoon, he noticed a baby blue SUV drive by the house. The same baby blue SUV Kerry had driven back to Wilmington two days before. Shit. He hadn’t expected to hear from Reed after he’d left his hotel the day before. If he was being honest with himself, he hoped Reed wouldn’t contact him again. The man was far too tempting, and Justin preferred to keep his sexual orientation under wraps. Reed was a complication he didn’t need.
Reed rolled down the window and waved. “You’re a hard man to find. I must’ve driven this street six ti—”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Justin demanded, his irritation at the intrusion getting the best of him. Talking to the guy about his work was one thing. Having him nosing around in his private life was another entirely.
“I figured since it was your day off, we might take up where we left off with the interview the other day.”
“You figured wrong.”
“May I?” Reed pulled into the driveway before Justin could respond. Leila trotted over, tail wagging, and greeted Reed as he stepped out of the car. Reed knelt in the grass and allowed her to lick his face. “Sweet girl,” he said as he stood once more.
“Leila isn’t very discerning.” Not entirely true, since there were only a few people she’d slobber all over, but he wasn’t going to encourage Reed.
Reed petted her as he looked around. “Nice place.”
“Yep.” Why did Reed poking around reduce him to single syllables?
“When you said Carolina Beach, I figured you owned one of those houses on the water up on stilts. I like this better.”
Justin wouldn’t give Reed the benefit of knowing the compliment made him feel good. He’d bought the postwar cottage when he began work as an apprentice eight years before. He hadn’t had much money at the time, so he’d spent most of his free time fixing it up. And even though his salary now was more than enough for him to afford one of the beachfront monstrosities, he preferred the 1,630-square-foot bungalow, with its uneven floors and slightly crooked shutters.
Reed picked up a ragged tennis ball near the bushes and tossed it. Leila ran after it, tail wagging. “She like the beach?”
“Yep.” Leila loved to chase sticks into the surf and splash around in the water when he ran in the mornings.
Reed pressed his lips together and rubbed the back of his neck. He seemed more awkward than Justin recalled. He was dressed in neat khaki shorts and a pale turquoise polo with a pair of flip-flops that looked like he’d purchased them in one of the tourist shops on the road into town. His face was slightly pink, and there was an angry red spot at his collar. Sunburn. Probably from his little ride out the Cape Fear Inlet. Still, he looked good. Always does.
Reed walked back to his car and pulled something out. “Thanks again.” He handed Justin a pile of neatly folded clothing—the clothing he’d lent Reed. “And thank you for saving my life the other day. I owe you.”
“You’re welcome. And you don’t owe me anything.” Justin set the clothing on the porch, then turned back to the lawnmower and got to work. He appreciated Reed’s thanks, but he still hoped Reed would get the message that, even if they had unfinished business, he wouldn’t be taking care of it on his time off. Still, each time he rounded the corner to head toward the driveway, Reed was there petting Leila, waiting patiently for him to finish.
He finished the yard and put the mower back in the shed before joining Reed once more. “Do I need to make it clear?”
Reed raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Leave,” Justin said.
“Why?” Reed appeared unconcerned.
“This is my time off.” How much clearer did he have to make it? “I’m not going to talk shop on my time off.”
Reed narrowed his eyes, and Justin waited for the lecture, but instead Reed said, “Okay.”
Justin hadn’t expected Reed to acquiesce so quickly. “Okay what?” he countered. The guy had something up his sleeve, Justin was sure of it.
“Okay, we don’t have to talk shop.”
“You’re staying anyhow?” Justin’s irritation grew. He knew how this would go. They’d talk about the beach or the weather, or maybe dogs, then Reed would bring up something about his work and boom, they’d be back where they started. Maybe worse, because spending time with Reed meant venturing into uncharted waters that might spill over into parts of Justin’s life they weren’t welcome.
“I won’t bring up your work today.” Judging by Reed’s canny grin, he’d read Justin’s thoughts.
“Today?”
“Yep.” Reed grinned.
“Suit yourself. Come, Leila.” She bounded after him and up the front steps. He kicked off his grass-covered shoes and padded into the kitchen without looking back. He drank a glass of water, set it down, and opened the fridge. He tossed a beer in Reed’s direction and popped the top of his own.
“Thank you.”
“Yep.”
Reed smiled as he looked around the kitchen.
“What? Were you expecting a dump?” Justin shook his head.
“I’m not sure what I was expecting.” Reed ran his hand over the marble countertops. “Did you do all this yourself?”
“Yep.”
Reed laughed. “Not fair.”
“What’s not fair,” Justin countered.
“I haven’t brought up your work since I’ve been here, and you’re still shutting me down.”
“You’ve been here a total of five, maybe ten minutes.”
“True.”
Justin sighed. “I bought the place when I moved to the area eight years ago. I spent about five years restoring her.”
“Her?”
“Ships and houses are female.”
“Really?” Reed raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Nah.” Justin snorted. “I made the houses part up.”
“Good to know.” Dimples appeared on Reed’s cheeks. Justin hadn’t noticed them before, and he half wished he hadn’t now either.
Justin gestured Reed to the living room. “Have a seat?” With the exception of Kerry, he kept his private and work lives separate. He wasn’t sure why he’d invited Reed in, let alone why he was offering to sit down with him.
“Thanks. Mind if I ask why the change of heart? A few minutes ago I thought you were going to run me off.”
Leila settled at Reed’s feet, looked up at Justin for a moment, then closed her eyes as if to say, See, I like him too. Was he that transparent?
“I don’t know.” He gazed at his beer but found no answers there. “You’re a decent guy.”
“And?”
“And you’re also irritating as hell.” He smiled.
“Glad to hear it.” Reed returned the smile. “And if it matters, I really hadn’t planned on coming by here today.”
“I’m supposed to believe that?”
Reed shrugged. “Believe it or not, I was curious. And not just the reporter kind of curious.”
“What were you curious about?” Justin didn’t really want to know—it seemed the more about Reed he understood, the more vulnerable his defenses became.
“What you were like outside of your work. What makes you tick. Whether you had a wife and a passel of kids at home, or whether…. You get the picture.”
Interesting and not so subtle. “No wife, no kids. But Greg could have told you that.”
Reed nodded. “He did. He also said you don’t talk about your private life.”
“Yep.”
“Justin—”
“Listen, the reason I don’t talk about my private life is because it’s fucking private,” Justin snapped.
“Sore point?” Reed pressed.
“I don’t want my private life all over your magazine. Hell, the only reason I’m even humoring you is because my boss said I had to.”
“Fair enough.” Reed didn’t look offended. “Would it help to know your private life won’t be featured in the story?”
“I’m supposed to just trust you?” Justin countered.
“Yes.” A hint of defiance flickered over Reed’s face. “I have no intention of outing you.”
“What are you—?”
“Just that. I’ll write about you—the pilot—and that’s where it ends. Do I think a story about a closeted pilot would be more interesting? Hell yeah. But that’s your business. Like you said, it’s your private life.” Reed held his gaze without flinching.
“Since when did you come to the conclusion that I’m in the closet?”
“I’m not blind, Justin,” Reed said. “I’m also not stupid. You’re well-respected and liked by your colleagues. You avoid any socializing with them—with the exception of Kerry, who’s about as tight-lipped as they get. You live in a part of the country where being gay isn’t exactly easy. And the marine business? It’s pretty traditional.”
