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She stood up straight and started climbing again. “It’s a deal. And I hope next time we get to stay longer. It’s tough to travel to The Cape this time of year. You can’t predict the weather.”
Toby sighed. “I had a great time. I can’t wait to go back again.” They were supposed to stay until later on Sunday and have dinner with a few of Rosemary’s friends. But they’d all decided to leave early because a snowstorm had been predicted. It had already started snowing when they passed through Connecticut. There were at least three inches on the ground now in New York and they were supposed to be getting up to eight inches that night.
When they reached Rosemary’s door, they hugged and made plans for dinner the next Saturday night. Toby set Rosemary’s bags down in her apartment and he crossed the hall to his. He’d been having such a good time he’d forgotten all about his arrangement with Brad Lindsay. He inserted the key and turned the lock. He went inside, set his luggage down, and removed his coat and his pants. He was looking forward to a nice quiet Sunday afternoon on a snowy day, lounging around in his underwear with a good book and a hot pot of coffee.
On his way to the bedroom, he noticed a fresh bouquet of flowers on the coffee table and he rolled his eyes. Then he pulled off his shoes and socks and left them in the bedroom doorway. He was about to remove his shirt when he glanced at the bed and saw a hairy naked leg sticking out of the covers. He pressed his palm to his throat and gasped. The man in his bed bolted forward and clutched the sheets.
“What areyoudoing here?” asked the man in his bed.
“I live here,” Toby said. “What areyoudoing here?” Toby recognized him at once. It was the dark, rough-looking Italian guy from the maintenance department at work: Richie.
“I was supposed to meet Brad here last night,” Richie said. “He promised he’d be here this weekend. We were supposed to spend the night together. But he had a family thing and couldn’t come at all. He said I could stay until around six. He said you wouldn’t be home until later tonight.”
Toby smacked his palm against his forehead and rolled his eyes. Now he knew it was time to put a stop to this.
Chapter Four
While Toby went into the living room to put on his pants, he heard shuffling sounds coming from the bedroom. A minute later, Richie appeared in the doorway wearing a black turtle neck sweater and beige slacks. His dark hair was still messy and he needed a shave. His stubble was so thick it almost looked dark green. But Toby couldn’t help notice that he was just as attractive in his street clothes as he was in his work uniform.
“I’ll just brush my teeth and make up the bed,” Richie said. “I onlyslepton the sheets. But I’ll put on clean ones and then I’ll get out of here and leave you alone. Sorry about this mix up.”
“Ah well, no harm done,” Toby said. Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. At least it happened with Richie and not some guy Toby didn’t know. He liked Richie; he thought he was the most handsome man he’d met in New York. He was facing Richie but not actually looking at him. He stared down at the floor and ran his hand down back of his head. “Don’t worry about the bed. I’ll take care of it.”
“No,” Richie said, “I insist. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t change the sheets. It’ll only take me a minute. I’m getting pretty good at it. Brad doesn’t know how to change a sheet from a pillow case.”
Richie glanced up at him and nodded. This made sense. Though Brad always left the apartment neat and clean, sometimes the sheets were on inside out, sometimes they were crooked, and sometimes they were absolutely perfect. He assumed Richie was the one who left them perfect.
While Richie changed the sheets and did what he had to do in the bathroom, Toby went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. His legs were still sore from sitting in the car for so long and he couldn’t stop yawning. He yelled into the bedroom and asked Richie if he wanted a cup and Richie said no. By the time Toby was on his second cup, he walked to the window and looked down at the street. Everything was pure white and there wasn’t a car, a bus, or a person to be seen. Thick clumps of snow had gathered at the windowsill and the wind was blowing so hard Toby could feel cold air slipping through the cracks. There had to be at least two more inches on the ground since the women had dropped him off.
When Richie appeared in the doorway, he glanced across the room and said, “Everything’s back to normal now. I guess I’ll be heading out.” He had a deep, smooth voice and his thick New York accent was adorable. He thought Richie could do much better than Brad Lindsay, but that was none of his business.
As Richie reached for a heavy black overcoat he’d left hanging over a kitchen chair, Toby glanced out at the snow again and sighed. It was coming down in fine flakes, on a slant. “Where do you live?”
Richie dug into his coat pockets for something. He pulled out a pair of black leather gloves and said, “The Bronx. Parkchester.”
“How will you get back?” Toby asked. “I haven’t seen a taxi or a car pass by in the last fifteen minutes. It looks like the entire city has come to a standstill.”
Richie laughed and pulled a scarf out of his other pocket. “I’m a New Yorker. I’ll take the subway. It would cost me a fortune to take a taxi up to The Bronx. And I doubt there will be many drivers willing to take me up there in this weather. I’ll be fine.”
Toby knew the subway was about four blocks away. He hadn’t seen any signs of human life on the street either. He glanced at Richie’s feet and saw he was wearing black loafers. This was a holiday weekend and the snow storm had taken everyone by surprise; it would take longer to clear the streets and sidewalks. So he turned and faced Richie. “I don’t feel comfortable seeing you leave in this weather. You’re not even wearing heavy boots. You’d better wait until the snow lets up a little.” The last thing Toby wanted to do was entertain one of Brad Lindsay’s many boyfriends. But he couldn’t let the poor guy go all the way back to The Bronx in weather like this.
Richie waved his arm. His large brown eyes sparkled beneath the cheap kitchen light fixture. “I’m good. I’m not afraid of the snow. Don’t worry about me.”
Toby pointed to the window. “You’d better check this out first.”
Richie crossed the room and glanced down at the street. When he saw a police car that was turned sideways, in the middle of the street, stuck in a deep pile of snow, he rubbed his jaw and said, “I didn’t think it was that bad out.” “And it’s only supposed to get worse later tonight,” Toby said. “You’d better spend the night here.” Then he walked back to the kitchen for another cup of coffee, wondering how in earth he was going to suffer through the night with a virtual stranger.
