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“Well, another time, then.”
Stick a dagger in my heart, Daddy. She threw the covers off, knowing she needed to get up. “Yeah, another time. Listen, I gotta go.”
“But just let me tell you—”
She cut him off. “I gotta pee, Daddy. Sorry.”
“Okay, okay! Call me later on.”
“I will.”
She was sorry she was hanging up when she heard him call “I love you” into the phone.
Putting her feet on the floor, she stared out at the dark and rainy day and wondered what she should do next. A part of her told her to just let things go. He was a grown-ass man, for Christ’s sake. And the other part, the part that loved her father with a ferocity that was sometimes scary, was desperate to pull him back from the precipice of a bridge rising into a weird sky.
Chapter Eleven
CONNOR ROLLED OVERin bed and watched Trey as he slept. With a hand just above Trey’s grizzled face, he traced the contours of his jawline and then reached up to let his fingers dance above his thick dark hair.
They’d been seeing each for two months now, and Trey had been a perfect gentleman the entire time, almost courtly. They’d gone out to many dinners, concerts, movies, and had even done a little hiking in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains.
During all of those outings, though, Trey had never made a move, never tried anything improper, even though sometimes Connor had wanted him to. But Connor had told him, after their night together at Monsoon, that he was nursing a heart that was in tatters. He needed to take things slow.
He had to restrain himself from falling into bed with Trey every time he saw another post from Steve on Facebook, which made his heart twinge. Here were Steve and Rory in a jewelry store downtown, picking out wedding bands. There they were with friends at Lola for brunch—guys who’d once been Connor’s friends, too, but who had gone radio silent. Pics of them on a ferry crossing to Vashon Island, standing below the Space Needle, running the trail about Green Lake. The photos telegraphed their love and bliss.
And Connor knew that having sex with someone as a kind of balm for his aching heart would only be using Trey, no matter how much he enjoyed the physical sensations. He also knew that detaching from Steve—and all of their couple hopes and dreams—would be healed only by time.
Still, it was so tempting to post his own pics of him and Trey on various outings around town, but he didn’t want to engage in a competition, especially since he sensed he’d be the only one competing. That would be pathetic.
There’d been a lot of physical affection—handholding, kissing (some Mary Chapin Carpenter passionate), and even some hugging that morphed into full-body rubbing, but they’d yet to go all the way, as high school as that phrase sounded applied to two middle-aged gay men.
Until last night.
Connor himself had proposed the getaway at the end of January, thinking it would be an amazing way to not only consummate their relationship, but also to celebrate Valentine’s Day.
“Have you ever been to Orcas?” he’d asked Trey over oysters and cold beer at a restaurant on Bainbridge Island.
Trey had laughed. “The whales?”
“No! Come on. Orcas Island? You know?”
Trey shook his head.
“You’re not aware of Orcas Island? What about the other San Juans?”
“Where is that? Puerto Rico?”
“Are you serious?” Connor was flabbergasted Trey wasn’t even aware of the islands north of Seattle, up near the Canadian border in the part of Puget Sound known as the Salish Sea. “San Juan Island itself? The Salish Sea? Friday Harbor?”
The islands, and the ferry ride to get to them, presented some of the most breathtakingly beautiful scenery the Pacific Northwest had to offer. Day trips and longer were very common among Seattle residents because of how easy it was to get to them, the potential for whale sightings, as well as the magic they possessed—just going there lowered blood pressure and heart rates and upped one’s appreciation for the wonders Mother Nature could work when she put her mind to it.
Trey’s face was a blank.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. But Orcas Island is gorgeous, serene, and one of my happy places. For years, we used to go up there every fall and stay at this resort called Doe Bay. They grow organic vegetables on the site, have cabins and yurts available for rent, and—oh my—some of the most gorgeous scenery anyone could imagine. They even have clothing-optional hot tubs that face the bay—”
Trey chuckled. “You had me at clothing optional.” He raised his eyebrows.
“I know. You’ve been patient.” Connor gave him his best, and most knowing, smile. They’d talked about how prolonged their courtship had been, especially for gay men. But Connor had been grateful for Trey’s understanding. And even more grateful that he hadn’t gone off to seek someone else out because Connor was sexually unavailable.
