Love in Tandem Read online

  “You can’t run your company if you’re running yourself into the ground,” she finished up, and Eamon smothered the urge to sigh.

  “I’m doing fine,” he told her. He was doing fine, given what little he had to do these days. There was no point in keeping himself in peak shape when his life was crumbling around him. But he couldn’t tell her that.

  “When did you get to bed last night?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly at nothing. “Eleven, maybe?”

  “Well, at least you’re not working yourself until two in the morning,” she said firmly. “But you need your sleep. Ten is late enough.”

  “I needed to see a friend,” Eamon protested.

  “A good friend wouldn’t take time away from your sleep,” his mother insisted.

  Eamon exhaled, the puff of air almost reaching a laugh, but not quite making it. “You can’t expect people to fit their schedules all around me, mom. People have their own lives.”

  “Why shouldn’t they?” she retorted. “You have a very important job, you know. You can’t let people walk all over you.”

  “I don’t think staying out until eleven is letting people walk all over me.” And just like that, his mood was dropping all over again. His parents were so proud of his important job, of how hard he worked. They could barely let a friend take him away from work: how was he ever going to tell them that his stupidity might have costed him his whole position.

  “That’s just the kind of thinking that’s going to put you behind!” She clicked her tongue scoldingly. “You know what your father always says.”

  “Work takes priority,” Eamon mumbled.

  “That’s right.” Now his mother sounded almost proud. “He’s always lived by that, always, and we tried to bring you up the same.” Her voice caught in her throat. “And look at you now!”

  “Yeah, look at me.” He’d always put work first, and look where that had gotten him. Told that he was trying too hard and it was putting strain on his mental and physical health, that’s where it had gotten him.

  “You’re such a good boy.”

  Eamon sighed inaudibly. “Thanks, mom. It was good to talk to you.”

  “You too, sweetie. I know your dad would love to talk to you too, but he’s playing golf until four, okay? So you mustn’t call him until after work!”

  “I’ll talk to him later,” Eamon promised.

  “But don’t take time away from your busy schedule just for us!” his mother reminded him. “We can wait.”

  “Okay, mom,” Eamon said.

  “Good-bye, dear!”

  “Bye, mom.” The call clicked off and Eamon looked sadly around the room. His busy schedule, huh?

  The only thing on his busy schedule was cleaning up the crumbs from his turkey sandwich and maybe, if he was feeling wild and free, washing both the mayonnaise-y knife and the plate he’d used.

  A busy schedule indeed. He glowered at the minor mess.

  His phone beeped again and Eamon opened the text message, wondering what his mom had forgotten to tell him this time around. But the text wasn’t from his mom. It was from Scott and read: Forgot to ask last night. Can I buy you a drink to thank you for everything again? No nosy parkers this time, promise.

  Just like that, everything seemed to brighten up again, right down to the view from the kitchen window.

  14

  Scott

  There was still an hour before Scott officially closed up for the night, but there hadn’t been a customer in the place since noon, so he thought he could probably be excused for being so damn excited to see Tony turn up.

  “What can I get you?” he called out as Tony yelled out a greeting. “Wildly expensive mountain bike? Over-designed helmet that costs four times what the normal ones do?” He wasn’t too proud to cater to people’s expensive tastes in his shop, but he was damned if he was going to refrain from making fun of the really silly ones, especially when it was only his friends around.

  “I can do a deeply-discounted magazine that’s half ripped to shreds,” Tony replied cheerfully. “Got any of those?”

  “Get out of my shop, freeloader,” Scott said huffily, exchanging high-fives with Tony.

  “That’s the spirit.” Tony leaned on the counter. “What’s cooking, man? Haven’t seen you around in ages.”

  “I saw you last week,” Scott snorted.

  “But you weren’t at Lennox’s place on Monday.” Tony looked wholly unreasonably smug about this.

  “God forbid I have something better to do with my time than watch a mid-season game played by two shitty teams.” Scott rolled his eyes. “I’ll be around next week.”

  “Something better to do, huh?” Tony’s eyebrows waggled violently.

  “Like fix my fucking website,” Scott said, dry as a bone.

  “But a little birdie told me you had help,” Tony said, grin splitting his face.

  “You can just say Lennox.”

  “Hah! That’s where you’re wrong!” Tony waved a finger in Scott’s face. “Alfie came in with Charlotte and said there was some guy he didn’t recognize behind the counter and was wondering if I knew him. Which I did, from Alfie’s description of this fancy man. Eamon told us all that he ran some big company in the city. Why’s he doing IT work for you now?”

  “He’s doing me a favor,” Scott said. “Unlike some people I could name.”

  “My very presence is a gift,” Tony intoned. “Also, I’ve got like fifteen minutes before my pizza’s ready for pickup next door: what do you want from me?”

  Scott made a face. “I knew you had ulterior motives.”

  “I’m also legitimately nosy about your new big-city boyfriend.”

  “Not my boyfriend.” Scott sat back down in his chair and pretended to be doing something on his laptop screen.

  “See?” Tony looked zero percent cowed. “That’s important news for the rest of us. So why’s he hanging around, if he’s not your new boyfriend.”

  “I told you.” Scott shrugged. “He’s helping with the website problems. I think he’s got it fixed too, but I won’t get to really test it, probably, until the weekend.”

  “What’s this weekend?”

  “That’s when people come to bike the trails.” Scott waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re right, that’s boring,” Tony agreed. “I was hoping you had another hot date planned. One we won’t even crash this time.”

  Scott glared at him.

  “I’m sorry about that, okay?” Tony protested. “Lennox said he sent you an apology text.”

  “It wasn’t a date,” Scott said. “So it’s fine.”

  “You sure?” Tony lifted one thick eyebrow. “Once Ramona pointed it out, it was pretty obvious. You knew the guy in high school? Really?”

  “I think if someone has to point it out to you, it was definitely not obvious,” Scott said. “Besides, it wasn’t a date.”

  “You going to see him again?” Tony asked, as gleeful as if this was the kicker to his whole argument.

  “He’s done me a huge favor,” Scott said. “I’m going to buy him a thank-you drink, yeah.”

  Tony nodded sagely. “Date.”

  “Thank-you drink.”

  “But you want it to be a date.”

  “And you’re basing this on what?”

  “It’s been too long since you were dating anyone,” Tony said affectionately. “You should start again. Is he gay? He seems gay.”

  “...He is,” Scott admitted.

  “Perfect!” Tony clapped his hands together and looked sympathetic. “Do you want our help? Because you’ve got it, man. We’re behind you all the way.” He perked up, as though he’d just been struck by an idea. “Bring him to Monday nights at Lennox’s place! We’ll gas you up like no one has ever gassed you up before. He’ll be so fucking impressed.”

  Scott let his head droop into his hands. “I don’t even want to know what you’d consider telling Eamon about
my good side.”

  “But you considered it!” There was, apparently, no stopping Tony. “Because you do like him!”

  “He’s a good guy,” Scott protested weakly.

  “And you have a crush!”

  “Not a crush.” Scott scowled. “I’d just...like to get to know him better.”

  Tony looked so unfairly delighted that Scott immediately regretted saying anything.

  “But I don’t need help,” he told Tony firmly. “We’re just going to have a drink and...”

  “See what happens?” Tony supplied, eyebrows back to waggling

  “You make it sound so sordid,” Scott complained. “Look, he’s hot, right?”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Tony shrugged.

  “He really, really is,” Scott said. “And there are approximately zero gay guys in this town.”

  “That you haven’t already dated,” Tony put in gleefully.

  Scott winced. “That I haven’t dated,” he agreed. “But still, not that many of them and mostly not my type at all or it just didn’t work out or whatever.” He shook a foreboding finger in Tony’s face. “The point is–! The point is that of course I’m a little interested. But I hardly know him and maybe our life goals won’t work out or something.” The thought that he might be incompatible with Eamon was a harder pill to swallow than he was willing to let Tony see, but he had to be realistic. It was still very, very possible. “So if you all could stop regarding me as practically married off or whatever, I’d appreciate it.”

  Tony, doubled over with laughter, took a while to respond. “Married off?” he coughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Married off? You’re so fucking cute, man, and you don’t even know it.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Scott sighed. “You know what I mean.”

  “What’s there to be worried about?” Tony asked. “He sounds like a total workaholic. You’re a total workaholic! You’ve got that whole starting-a-business thing in common. I’ve seen him biking around town this last week, so you’re compatible there. You sound perfect for each other and I’ve barely met the guy!”

  “That’s the problem,” Scott said drily. “You’ve barely met him. What if he wants to move back to the city immediately? What if he wants to fuck off to Florida? What if he’s not looking to settle down? Or he’s got some twink waiting for him back in the city? Or he doesn’t like the duck pond?”

  “So, I’m sensing you have some concerns,” Tony said slowly. He leaned over the desk to pat Scott’s shoulder. “I think that just means you like him a whole bunch, man. Where did some of these even come from?”

  Scott snarled at him.

  “Just saying that’s what it looks like to me,” Tony said, unbothered. “Just relax, Scott. Go get that drink. See what happens. And if he turns out to be a total shithead, we’ll key his car and get you drunk.”

  “You can’t just key someone’s car,” Scott protested. “Rich people sue for that shit, you know.”

  “TP his house. Whatever.” Tony waved off his objections like they were nothing. “The point is, you’ll get over him. But you can’t get over him until you’ve tried to get under him. If you know what I mean.” Big smile. His biggest yet.

  “You were doing good until the end,” Scott pointed out.

  “You just don’t want to admit the truth,” Tony said peacefully. “But for real. Go on that date, man! We won’t even come spy on you.” He looked up at the clock above the shop door. “Oh, shit! My pizza’s gonna be ready in a sec. Gotta jet, man! Good talk!” He patted Scott’s shoulder again and took off in a whirlwind, the doorbell jangling forlornly behind him.

  Why was Scott even considering taking Tony’s advice? What did Tony know? His track record of long relationships stood at a firm point five, maybe even a zero depending on what you thought was a long relationship. Tony would probably say two months was good, which was why Scott shouldn’t bother trusting him. Scott wanted a life partner, not just a fling, and he was pretty sure that Eamon wasn’t going to be around long enough for that.

  But talking to Tony had dragged out all of Scott’s feelings for Eamon into the open. He’d been trying to ignore how much he’d grown to care about Eamon’s opinion, how fun it was to talk back and forth with him, how he noticed every time Eamon came close and every time he pulled away. It was hard to say that none of it counted when he had the evidence of his working computer system in front of his eyes. It might have been the strangest way to show interest in someone else that Scott had seen in a while, but he had to admit that it was just his style. He was a practical guy. Flowers and stuff just didn’t quite cut it, though he wouldn’t say no to a box of chocolates from time to time. But fixing something that was broken?

  That was exactly the way to his heart and Eamon had found it without even trying. How could Scott do less than take the chance?

  15

  Eamon

  Scott had apologized for taking Eamon back to the Wick and Hawthorne, but Eamon kind of liked it. He’d never been a regular anywhere before, and – though he was aware that two visits didn’t make anyone a regular anywhere – he kind of liked the idea of setting down some roots. Besides, their selection of draft beer was unparalleled locally, and, especially with a local to walk him through them, Eamon was enjoying the options.

  Admittedly, this put him at two and a half beers in by the time their nachos arrived, but if Scott didn’t seem to care, neither would Eamon.

  “So you’ve only ever really lived here?” Eamon was saying, a little surprised. Scott didn’t seem like one of those guys who’d never gone anywhere, someone who didn’t have the resources to get out.

  “Is that so weird?” Scott sounded a touch defensive. “There wasn’t much point while I was taking classes over in Milton, because the commute’s not so bad, and I guess my ex was considering getting a place over in Edgeback, but, well, he didn’t last, so neither did that plan.”

  “It’s not weird,” Eamon said apologetically, suppressing his urge to cheer. He’d wanted confirmation that Scott really was into guys before he made his move and here it was. Right at the perfect moment, like a spark of divine grace.

  “There’s more here than people think there is,” Scott was adding. “More potential here than people imagine.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. “It might sound silly, but I’ve always wanted to make a difference somewhere, you know? And then I got into helping out with the clean up of the conservation area and I realized: I could do something right here. There’s stuff to love here, I don’t have to leave it to try and find somewhere new to make a change.”

  “That’s really impressive,” Eamon said, expression softening. It was a surprise to see this much awkwardness on the big man’s face: he’d always been so confident when he was discussing his projects before: crowing about how the summer clean up had gone from him and a few bribable friends to something that brought the whole town together, or talking about how the shop had come up from him doing odd jobs for people in his parents’ garage. But he guessed he’d never really asked Scott about why he’d done these things before, only assumed that everyone had his motivations: trying to get away from the person they’d been before, trying to build themselves something new to hold.

  “Ah, it’s not like it was just me.” Scott laughed a little. “There’s lots of other people who work with the conservation authority. I think I was just there at the right time and no one else in the BIA wanted the representative spot.”

  “You’re the one who volunteered, though,” Eamon said with a shrug. “That’s not nothing. And the work you’ve put into it definitely isn’t nothing.”

  “It’s a little selfish,” Scott admitted, leaning towards Eamon as though sharing a secret. Eamon could think of some other secrets they could share, some other things that could be between them. He shook himself, pushing the lusty thoughts away to try and listen to Scott’s words instead of just staring at the lushness of his mouth. “I mostly wanted somewhere nice
around here to bike, you know? The county roads are a mess, there’s farmers coming through at a million miles an hour and spraying you with dust, there’s nothing to see but cows. So I thought, if we could just clear up the old paths in the conservation area...” He smiled, sheepish. “I only realized after how many other people wanted that too.”

  “And you were how old?” Eamon chuckled. “C’mon, don’t beat yourself up for not having pure motivations when you were just a kid.”

  “You seemed to have things pretty figured out by twenty-five,” Scott pointed out, leaning his chin on one hand and reaching for the nacho plate with another.

  “It only looks like that because I got insanely, unreasonably lucky,” Eamon had to admit. “At the time, I was pretty sure the company was going to topple down around my ears at any moment. We were working project to project, trying to build our own system while only getting paid for our work on other people’s... A mess, honestly.” He ducked his head and looked away. “It’s still sort of a mess, frankly.”

  “Doesn’t look like too much of a mess to me,” Scott said gently.

  “You haven’t seen what’s going on now,” Eamon said. “The coders are blowing deadlines left and right. I can’t get management to show up on time to a single meeting. It’s a fucking mess.”

  “And you’re...on sabbatical?” Scott sounded confused. “No offense.”

  This was it. This was Eamon’s now or never moment. He was going to say it and Scott was never going to look at him the same way again. “I think the board’s trying to push me out.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It’s partially my own fault, I guess.”

  “Why’s that?” Scott didn’t sound like he was judging Eamon, only that he was confused. He gestured with a tortilla chip. “This sounds totally crazy, no offense.”

  “They were already trying for a hostile takeover,” Eamon admitted. “And then I let my guard down and yelled at one guy for fucking up a meeting for the millionth time and boom! There I was on sabbatical until I could ‘deal with my obvious burnout issues’.”