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Cayson smiled bashfully. Finally, Quick felt like he was on the right track. If he could just keep him smiling like that, Quick’s life would be complete.
Quick pulled into the Trader Joe’s parking lot. “I’ll only be a minute. Do you wanna wait here?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m gonna make a phone call.”
Quick ignored the feeling in his gut that the phone call was personal and climbed out of the warmth of his truck. In the store, he moved past the large display of Valentine’s Day decorations and made fast work of getting his meat and easy minute-rice. Not knowing what type of spirits Cayson had in his house, Quick grabbed a rich cabernet sauvignon and two small vanilla scented candles that were close to the register. When he got back in the truck, Cayson was tucking his cell phone back inside his coat pocket, a disgruntled look altering his usually soft face.
“Everything okay?”
“Yep,” Cayson replied a little too fast.
“Good then.” Quick dropped his bags in the back seat. “I’m going to make something easy, but comforting, since it’s getting late.”
“It’s only five or so. I got enough energy for dinner.”
Is that all you have energy for? Quick bit his tongue at his initial response, remembering how well behaved he was supposed to be. Instead, he focused on driving.
“You know where I live?” Cayson asked when Quick turned onto his street without direction.
“I find and catch people, Cays, it’s what I do.”
Cayson looked at him with a weird expression.
“That sounded a little creepy, huh?”
“Yeah, little bit.”
“Sorry. But you are listed. You do know that, right?”
“Oh. Yeah, I do.”
“Cayson Chauncey, MD, your phone number is listed too. You don’t see that too much these days.”
“Might as well.” Cayson shrugged. “It’s a piece of cake to get anything on line anyway.”
“Very true.” Quick parked a couple houses up. Cayson lived on the East side of Atlanta, in the historic Inman Park, in a Victorian style home that had been renovated into a duplex. It was naturally beautiful. The light was fading quickly, and the temperature steadily dropping. Quick glanced a look around him, a lifelong habit, before turning to face Cayson. “Something you want to tell me, Doc?” Quick asked, gently pushing down the thick collar of Cayson’s parka to touch the skin on his throat.
Cayson’s gulp was loud in the silence of the truck. Quick didn’t know why he was so fascinated with Cayson’s neck, but he’d figure it out soon. In the meantime, he had what he hoped was a minor situation. “Are you expecting company already?”
Cayson frowned in confusion. “What?”
Quick nodded towards Cayson’s front porch.
When Cayson turned and focused his eyes, Quick saw the recognition in those baby blues first. So, Cayson knew this man. Then he saw aggravation spread like wildfire across Cayson’s warm features. Quick now knew the stranger wasn’t welcome company and Quick was, so – situation solved.
“Um, Rome. Can you wait in the truck for a moment, please?”
“Um, Cays. No, I can’t,” Quick answered easily, but with a charming smile attached.
Cayson smiled and shook his head. “Fine. Come on. He’s a friend who didn’t get the message. I’ll send him away.”
Quick grabbed the grocery bags then closed and locked his vehicle. The man on Cayson’s stoop was not near as tall as him, but not short either. He looked like a professional, maybe a colleague, but what type of co-worker was coming over at this time of evening. The scowl on his face as they approached said he was feeling the same way about Quick’s presence as Quick was feeling about his. There was no need for Quick to flex his muscles… yet. As long as the guy left peacefully.
Cayson turned to face Quick when they got to his security gate. He took out his key and unlocked the door in the four-foot brick wall surrounding the property. He turned and scooped the bags into his arms. “Rome, wait right here, please. I’ll be right back.”
Quick nodded once and stepped back, letting the gate shut and lock behind Cayson. There was no reason for him to act like a Neanderthal. Besides, it was his date. This guy was getting ready to get the brush off. He pretended not to listen, but he was nosy, so what the hell. After a couple minutes Quick’s hackles rose when he heard the visitor’s voice growing louder.
~~~~~~~~
“Dr. Joe, what are you doing here?” Cayson said through clenched teeth. He needed to keep his voice down because he really didn’t want to have this conversation with Quick a few feet away, looking on. He said a silent prayer that Joe didn’t get too upset with him and blurt out anything personal that should remain between them. Cayson dropped the bags at his feet and turned to face the man who he’d thought he wanted a relationship with. But how could he, when he wasn’t even allowed to call the man by his first name? Since Dr. Joe is what everyone else called him, Cayson had to also use it. Otherwise, someone could get suspicious of their relationship.
