Just Keep Swimming - 1. Chapter 1

Liam

“THE DOOBELL IS RINGING, UNCLE LEE-M!”

Pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger, Liam Bailey wiggled the other around in his ear like a fleshy Q-tip, trying to get the hearing back. When his older sister Bonnie had dropped off her son on her way to an out-of-state work conference for the pharmaceutical company she worked for, she’d grinned that perfectly aligned, sharky grin she’d perfected years ago, and assured Liam that Brady would help “liven up” what she deemed Liam’s normal—aka “stale”—daily routine, just like the little boy did every time he spent long weekends, or in this particular case, five whole days and nights with his favorite uncle.

When Liam had reminded Bonnie that he was Brady’s only uncle, Bonnie had pointed out that as a single gay man who rarely had any “fabulous, queer-boy weekend plans” at all, much less ones that would be inappropriate for a child, Brady didn’t need any other uncles. Liam hadn’t been able to come up with a logical argument then. Now, a little over ninety-six hours later, he would’ve happily made a very scandalously convincing argument by publicly blowing a homeless man in the carefully manicured streets of his suburban neighborhood for a taste of stale.

Wimbledon tennis was lively. Trying to keep up with a four-year-old fueled by the constant sugar rush a desperate uncle kept going like a life-saving IV, was lethal. But at least they’d burned off some of the sugar after Liam had wrestled Brady into the neon orange arm floaties that’d kept him afloat while Liam had tried to teach his nephew a strong enough doggy paddle to keep the kid alive—which was a much more challenging task with little boys as a whole, than it was with the little girls in his three-to-five-year-old, coed swim group at the local YMCA, who actually believed in wearing their “listening ears” and following directions. Fortunately, Liam and Brady had survived like they always managed to when Bonnie left them together. Granted, the little boy was currently wearing both the floaties and his damp swimsuit all around the house, which he’d insisted on keeping on while Liam had gotten some dino shaped nuggets into his nephew for lunch, with the promise to take him to the community kid’s pool when he was done.

That’d been over a half hour ago. Little boy teeth chewed child-friendly chicken almost as slowly as they did carefully diced hot dogs which had been last night’s dinner. But considering that the arm floaties kept Brady visible both in and out of the pool, Liam was all on board for the kid looking like an energetically moving, slightly damp traffic cone.

Hastily turning the corner, Liam ran down the hall of his modest three-bedroom ranch home, his comfortably worn jeans that were torn from age, not deliberate on-trend fashion choices, still half unzipped from the lightning-fast bathroom break he’d been trying to squeeze in between getting Brady out of the pool, fed, and making the choice between another round of Sesame Street, or his uncle Liam’s limited knowledge of bad card tricks. Liam would’ve never have made it in Vegas because he couldn’t count cards or bluff for crap, but Brady thought he was “super cool” so holding onto his sanity for a little less than twenty-four more hours might be possible.

“Brady!” Liam called out. “Do not touch that door, buddy! You know the rules.”

“I’m not going to touch! I’m just going to look!”

Small and apparently still slightly damp bare feet, squeaked as they slid across the linoleum. Hands that had been aiming for the knob curled guiltily behind Brady’s back when he heard Liam come up on him fast. From his vantage point in the doorway, Liam could see the chocolate stains on the child’s fingers. Someone must’ve helped himself to the M&M’s that Liam kept in a glass jar on the corner of his office desk between the collectible action figures all proper computer programming nerds kept visible as rites of passage and silent signaling that behind the scenes, smartass hackers really did run the world.

“Uh-huh. What does Elmo say we look with?”

Brady grinned, showing off dimples and damning chocolate evidence between his front teeth to an eerily adorable effect that made Liam’s mind flash forward to future Halloween’s, when chocolate would fill in the gaps in Brady’s mouth after he started losing his baby teeth.

“Our eyes.”

“Right. Not our hands so keep yours where I can see ’em.”

Liam fought a grin as his nephew folded his hands behind his head of turbulent blonde curls, like he was auditioning for a non-title role in Cops. His smile and sunlit hair color were Bonnie’s, but the untamable curls that told brushes and hair products to go scratch, was the unfortunate curse that Liam and Bonnie’s mother had passed down generationally, bypassing Bonnie’s smooth blonde waves to lay the thick, springy burden on both Liam and Brady.

Showing amazing dexterity considering his five hours of sleep, Liam zipped up his jeans one-handed, then gently bumped the little boy away from the door and into a fit of giggles with his right hip. Surprise and a bit of remorse for his nifty one-handed zip-trick slid through Liam hard when he opened the door and saw his next-door neighbor, Gabriel Morgan, standing on his front porch, bathed in the early afternoon sunlight. His extremely attractive and sadly, very straight neighbor, who Liam had been fantasizing about for most of the last two years when Gabriel had moved in just a few houses down the street with his two daughters-Harlow, eleven and Kora, twelve.

Liam’s left brow arched when he managed to pull himself out of his inevitable slide into the fantasyland where Gabriel played a standing starring role, and really took a look at the man. In place of Gabriel’s usual blue jeans, buttoned up dress shirt and the sports coats he wore when he went to work with his yellow hard hat tucked beneath his arm, the handsome contractor was wearing a soft-looking, heather gray t-shirt with the logo of the local middle school on it. The worn material molded to his body just enough to prove that the whole ‘dad bod’ craze hadn’t taken root in either Gabriel’s mind or his flat abdomen. He was wearing his battered brown tool belt with a pair of khaki cargo shorts, but instead of each pocket being filled with every tool known to man since the beginning of time like it usually was, each of the slots was stuffed with the fundraiser candy bars being sold by both the middle schoolers for their upcoming school trip to the planetarium, and by every kid on the local girls soccer team. Candy bars that Liam was very familiar with after buying them from every single team member, including Gabriel’s own daughters.

Every time he’d acquired a new one—because little girls with big eyes had the same wallet-opening effect on Liam as the opening strains of Sarah McLachlan’s choral plugs for poor downtrodden animals—Liam had tossed it into the now overflowing basket at the top of his bedroom closet. There was no way he’d be able to eat that much chocolate ever, so he was hoarding the bars for either the end of the world, or a overpriced Christmas stocking stuffers-whichever came first within the next six months.

Gabriel had come bearing candy not kids, which made Liam even more curious about his neighbor’s sudden visit, but he wasn’t able to ask before his thought process was interrupted.

“Candy!” Brady announced happily.

Liam’s brow hovered somewhere in space as he discreetly swept Gabriel’s six-foot-plus frame again, admiring those long, tanned, and lightly furred legs when the older man briefly turned away to smile as the new arrival and offer a wave.

Thank you, Brady.

“Are Harlow and Kora having you do their dirty work for them?”

Gabriel grinned, a hint of sheepishness in his smile when his eyes met Liam’s again. “I’m guessing you already got slammed?”

“There are eleven girls on my soccer team, Gabe. They’re also all in middle school, so I’ll be working on keeping off my winter weight before the summer’s even over.”

Gabriel’s laughter should‘ve gone to Liam’s heart not his dick, but his biology clearly had its own thoughts on the matter of propriety.

“Somehow I don’t see that being a real problem for you, Liam...”

Laim’s brow arched even higher. From a self-confident gay man, he’d have considered that a solid pass. Coming from Gabriel, straight dad of two, the possible implications hurt Liam’s brain and he had no friend to phone as a lifeline for confirmation of whether his gaydar had just been pinged, or if that sound was just wishful thinking on his brain’s part. Liam knew Gabriel was divorced from Kora and Harlow’s mother, Mary, but because he’d never seen Gabriel romantically linked with anyone else in the neighborhood since then-female or otherwise- he’d always assumed Gabriel was just a hard-working single dad who was possibly a little gun shy about starting over.

Liam could appreciate that. He was a single gay man likely to stay that way since he’d helped to design one of the more popular queer dating apps currently on the market. He knew how happily barracudas swam where catfishing was bad form, but not illegal. People always said that the best men were married or gay. In his case, the only man Liam would’ve changed his single status for was straight and a dad.

“It’s for a good cause. I’ll just have to swim a few extra laps every morning in the pool.”

Gabriel’s gray eyes looked amused before he squatted down on his haunches in front of Brady with the endearing immediacy of a man well-versed in being a father, when the little boy peered at him from around Liam’s legs more boldly.

“Hey there.” Gabriel smiled at Brady. “Who are you? Liam’s bodyguard?”

“More like the nuclear energy source that’ll be the reason there’s a chalk line drawn around my body by the time his mom comes to pick him up. My sister Bonnie,” Liam said to clarify when Gabriel offered him a questioning look. He held a hand level around his left ear. “Slim blonde about this tall with a big orthodontic success-story smile that’s helping her move up the ladder of big pharma because doctors seem to forget they have wives when she bats her lashes?” Liam smirked. “They look at her tailored suits, especially this light gray one she wears a lot and probably think graceful dolphin, forgetting that sharks are also gray and have bigger teeth.”

He ruffled Brady’s hair gently when Gabriel laughed. “Bonnie’s good with people and great at what she does. She’s also great with Brady despite being a single mom, but not always so great about keeping her very strong opinions about every aspect of my life to herself.”

Especially his love life, or rather, the lack thereof. Liam kept that part to himself though. Instead, he shrugged when Gabriel grinned. “Brady’s been staying with me this week while she’s at some career enrichment thing. They moved to the other side of town about four months ago, so Brady stays with me when she needs to do the work conference circuit.” He smiled down at his nephew. “Brady, say hello to Mr. Gabriel please.”

“Hi Mr. Gabriel,” the little boy echoed obediently-a perfect picture of compliance when he wasn’t throwing down in epic protest about his 7:00 pm bedtime every night. “Did you bring me and Uncle Lee-M some treats?”

The hopeful note in Brady’s voice made Gabriel’s smile widen as Liam shook his head, offering Gabriel an apologetic look for his exuberant nephew’s temporary lack of manners.

“Brady, that’s not polite, buddy. We always wait till we’re offered goodies.”

Brain, take your own damn advice. Gabriel Morgan’s goodies are totally off limits to your perv fantasies.

“You also just housed six dino nuggets and an entire S’mores pop-tart for dessert. No judgement,” Liam warned Gabriel when the other man’s grin deepened enough to dance on the edge of laughter. With his lack of the whole, ‘dad-bod’ and the fact that both Harlow and Kora were lean and some of his stronger soccer players, Liam doubted sugar was a main food group in the Morgan household, but he valued his sanity more than staying away from red dyes and gluten when playing survival games with his nephew.

“No judgement here. We’re still a French-toast-for-dinner-on-Fridays, household.”

Lines of a life well lived softened the rugged angles of Gabriel’s lightly stubbled face, bringing out glints of mischievous humor around his eyes and mouth-something Liam wouldn’t ever have guessed from the serious expression Gabriel usually sported as he went to and from work. The Gabriel Morgan currently on his porch felt more like the relaxed version who showed up to every soccer game, no matter when or where they were held. That Gabriel was a considerate, stable dad who managed to balance working ridiculous hours to provide for his daughters while still remembering he actually had kids who he needed to spend time with, so they’d grow up well-adjusted, without daddy abandonment issues that’d put them in years of therapy or wrapped around a stripper pole wearing body glitter.

Liam liked that, just like he liked so many other things about his handsome neighbor whom he occasionally spoke to after soccer games or at the YMCA pool when Gabriel picked up Kora and Harlow from their swim lessons. They’d also spoken a few times at block party potlucks, but never anything truly in depth past how the girls were doing, the weather, and how Gabriel liked his burger; medium rare with a warm red center. Liam preferred his meat properly crisped to death after it’s mooed death throes, but he could work around Gabriel being a little more the culinarily carnivorous side as long as he kept picking up little snippets about what Gabriel was like to make the man less of an enigma in his mind. Most of what Liam knew about Gabriel came from Kora and Harlow themselves after they’d decided he was cool enough to be included in their little inner circle, even if he was just barely cool enough. The rest that Liam knew about Gabriel that hadn’t come from them or their father himself, were just the results of good old-fashioned sleuthing—aka, mild stalking.

There were some spectacular benefits to working from home as a freelance computer programmer and graphic artist. Being able to wear his plaid pajama pants as long as Liam ran a hand through his light brown curls—which were always tousled due to lack of effort not fashionable choice—and didn’t get up during work zoom calls, was one of them. A better one was the ability to casually park himself in said pajama bottoms at his front bay window like a houseplant, with a cup of vanilla chai tea or a Red Bull when he heard Gabriel’s car coming and going at the exact same times every day for work. Gabriel was a creature of habit and routine. There were never any strange cards parked in front of his house at odd hours depositing or picking up beautiful mystery women, and Gabriel never left the house looking like he was dressed for a date. Other than the days he was doing something with his kids, the only deviation in Gabriel’s routine was the occasional grocery store run.

Liam snuck another furtive look at Gabriel’s tool belt overflowing with bars of sugary crack. That was definitely a deviation from the norm.

“Hi Brady. I’ll talk to your uncle Liam and see what he thinks about more treats, ok kiddo?” Gabriel said, bringing Liam attention back to the conversation.

“OK. Uncle Lee-M and I had cookies and milk for dessert after we ate Lucky Charms cereal this morning!”

Liam shrugged, too distracted by Gabriel’s dimples to feel embarrassed about Brady’s impulsive confession. The Pilsbury Doughboy would’ve approved of their depth and the fact they unfocused Liam to such an absurd degree, that he’d have considered outlining them with his tongue if they didn’t have a toddler audience and Gabriel wasn’t off limits.

Liam loved dimples.

“That sounds like quite the feast. I’m sorry I missed it.”

“Breakfast of champions,” Liam said lamely. “The milk came from his cereal, but he did eat half a banana too.”

“We fed the rest to Rocket,” Brady piped in. As if on cue, Liam’s two-year-old, one-eyed tuxedo cat poked his head around Brady’s legs, twining with lazy calculation around Brady who sported age-appropriate skinned knees. Despite his name, Rocket moved with the sloth-like speed of the moon orbiting earth.

“Bonnie said bologna sandwiches work at their house, but I still twitch thinking about the bologna and American cheese sandwiches our mom packed for our school lunches, so I didn’t want to continue the traumatic circle of mystery meat. Leftover dino nuggets are something I can actually finish without dry heaving.”

“Mommy says my friend Molly’s mom is full of bologna,” Brady chimed in helpfully. “Sometimes she says she’s full of beans. She’s full of lots of stuff.”

Liam cringed as Gabriel snickered. Unfazed, Brady scooped Rocket up into his arms to show him the candy bars in Gabriel’s tool belt. Liam hid a smile when the little boy reminded the uninterested cat that they looked with their eyes.

“Note to self—don’t speak about anything you don’t want kids to repeat if they’re within a mile. They have satellites for ears.”

Gabriel’s dimples flashed again. Liam tried to keep his knees from going weak. “Yeah, I learned that lesson really quick after Kora and Harlow turned five and six respectively. It’s like kiddie c-r-a-c-k.”

“Pixie sticks are worse. Bonnie’s going to love me when she gets home tomorrow night and he crashes on her in the car, then wakes up raging like an angry a-l-c-o-h-o-l-i-c after a five-day bender,” Liam said with a smirk. It was definite payback for all the years of sibling torture he’d been the scrawny victim of until he’d shot up in his junior year of high school to his current 5’l0 and could finally just sit on his older sister and tickle her until she waved her white flag between shrieks of submission.

“Uncle Lee-M, maybe Rocket and I can share a candy bar? Please?”

“I love that you said please buddy, but considering we’ve supported every processed food company on the planet these last few days and still have to survive until mommy picks you up tomorrow, we gotta pace ourselves. Besides, Mr. Gabriel probably has a lot of other people he needs to feed first. And cats can’t have chocolate.”

Brady’s lower lip puffed out in a pout which Liam had become very familiar with. The cuteness factor was almost overpowering, but Liam stood firm, arching an eyebrow with his arms folder across his chest to look paternally imposing while he tried not to smile. For now. After dinner, he and Brady would probably split half a chocolate bar from Liam’s closet candy bar stash because Liam apparently possessed some masochistic traits.

“Ok, Uncle Lee-M.” Brady sighed as if the world were truly a cruel, cruel place. “Can Rocket and I watch TV now?”

“Sure, but sit on the towel I put out on the couch and don’t get too close to the flat screen. I don’t want to have to break out my spatula again to peel you off.”

Liam grinned as he got hugged around the legs briefly before Brady made a beeline for the living room. Within thirty seconds, Liam heard the opening strains of the Octonauts cartoon floating out from that direction.

“And now, you get to tell me how you got stuck with door-to-door sales.”

“I lost a bet to the girls,” Gabriel said with a lopsided smile, the sunlight glinting off the silver strands laced through his dark hair as his head cocked slightly to the left.

“What was the bet?” Liam’s curiosity spiked grin widened curiously when Gabriel’s cheeks turned suspiciously pink too quickly for Liam to write it off as casual sunburn.

“They told me something that seemed a little too good to be true and I didn’t believe them.” Gabriel’s smile was rueful. “Turns out they were right. This is my punishment for doubting them.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Liam whistled low when Gabriel shook his head. “Man, you just walked right into that one. After my third year coaching the girls' soccer team, I realized that enemy combatants have nothing on tween girls when it comes to one-upping you. Last time I lost a bet, I ended up buying pizza after every game for a month.”

And painting his fingernails Ruby Woo-hoo Red. Fortunately, April had been cold enough to wear gloves all month when he was outdoors, and his clients didn’t care what his Liam’s hands looked like as long as he could effectively code with them.

“They said my penance is to get rid of the rest of their unsold bars while they level up on Candy Crush or whatever other game plays that teeth-grinding music.”

Liam grinned. “Well, if you set up outside of a gym or maybe the maternity wing of a hospital, you’d clean out your stash in under ten minutes. When Brady was born, Bonnie made me go out in the middle of the worst snowstorm that year to get her sushi and hot chocolate. Brady’s a winter baby, though you probably can’t tell that from the whole love of water and orange floaties.”

Gabriel smiled. “I’ll probably end up paying for them myself, then just give them away to the guys at work. Despite what Kora and Harlow said, getting me here was their actual end goal.”

“Getting you here?”

“Mmm hmm.”

The sound Gabriel made was noncommittal but that pink along his cheekbones deepened as the man leveled a look at him. Liam suddenly wished he had the secret decoder ring that Brady had found in his breakfast cereal yesterday morning.

Curiouser and Curiouser, thought Alice.

“Are you going to elaborate on that?”

Liam hoped so, because despite the Spartan black framed glasses he wore perched on his nose—whenever Brady hadn’t accidently knocked them off his face practicing wrestling moves—he wasn’t blind and there was obviously something happening here that was making his Spidey senses tingle.

Although he didn’t advertise with billboards or public acts of depravity that involved his tongue and someone else’s tonsils, Liam had never hidden his sexuality. His retired, former hippy parents who discreetly grew weed between their oregano and basil plants in their small garden patch for medicinal use, were disturbingly supportive about his choices. Bonnie had told Liam more than once that he pinged the average person’s gaydar, so hiding anything had always seemed like a moot point. Especially after gay marriage had been legalized and most people stopped caring about which way you buttered your bread, especially in Portland, Maine, the new foodie mecca of the U.S. Businesses cared about dollar signs not sexuality and people could usually find common ground in food. In their quiet community where block party barbecues were a regular occurrence and Liam knew how to successfully man a grill that produced perfect burger and appropriately singed hot dogs, he’d bonded with most of his neighbors. None of them seemed bothered by the fact that Liam played for his own team and no burning crosses had appeared on his front lawn beside the rosebushes during the five years he’d lived here. Gabriel knew Liam was gay. Liam had thought Gabriel was straight. But that look, and the blush…

Is Gabriel Morgan hitting on me?

“I probably should… I just feel…” Gabriel paused as if trying to think of the right word before he offered Liam another rueful look. “Stupid?”

“I routinely feel that way working with tween girls. They’re adorable and put their all into the game, but they’re also terrorists who squeal with delight when they say anything that makes me twitch, so there’s no judgement here. I’m just curious why they felt like I needed a door-to-door delivery. Between us, I bought three candy bars from each of them. The other girls only got two sales apiece from me though, so we’ll keep that to ourselves.”

“Did they swindle you with their smiles, or are you just a softie for my kids?”

I’m a softie for their dad.

“They’re good kids. Smart, helpful and Harlow’s an energetically talented beast on the field. They’re also your kids…” Liam said, watching Gabriel’s eyes for any reaction to that. His pulse kicked up when Gabriel’s gaze swept over him with slower deliberation this time—an expression that definitely shouldn’t have been on the face of a straight man, unless they were using the metric Brady had used for straight lines when Liam had tried to teach him to draw a square and his nephew’s versions all had squiggly angles.

“You have soft spot for me, Liam?”

It was a simple question, but there was suddenly a velvety smooth, whiskey dark note in Gabriel’s voice. Liam felt heat rising in his cheeks. He could hold his own when talking smack with champion gamers and hackers online and even in person because there was an unspoken formula to all the shit talk they gave one another, usually in the name of good fun had by all, but his romantic game was an entirely different animal; one that was more afraid of other people than they were afraid of him.

“I appreciate that you’ve raised two amazing kids.”

Gabriel smiled at the dodge but didn’t look put off by Liam’s awkwardness. “They like you a lot, you know. They had a pretty rough time of it when Mary and I initially split, then again when she gave me full custody so she could focus on herself. Even Harlow pulled into herself for a long time, and I questioned my decision to move out here. But now, between soccer and swim, and living in a house that doesn’t feel like a battlefield, they’re both doing really well. I attribute a lot of that to you.”

“I’m not that special, Gabe. Kids just don’t seem to mind spastic adults if they’re open about their shortcomings. I am. I’m also a neutral third party that’s an adult but not a parent so that helps.”

“I trust you around my girls every week at practice and at the pool, Liam,” Gabriel said with a warm smile. “I wouldn’t risk them with anyone I didn’t think could keep them safe, especially since I never learned to swim and being by water above ankle level makes me anxious. The fact they have a good instructor and coach they really like, whom I also trust, makes me happy as a dad on multiple levels.”

That subtle note of something more was in Gabriel’s voice again, and Liam scrubbed his fingers back through his own still slightly damp hair. “Thanks,” he said, awkwardly rubbing his hand across the back of his neck now. “I’m trained to teach adults too if you ever want to learn. We can meet at the Y, or you can come here. My pool isn’t Olympic sized but it’s heated salt water which is nice… So… yeah… consider it an open invite. Water safety’s important.”

Even if seeing Gabriel Morgan’s lack of a dad bod in a swimsuit might sink Liam like a stone because he forgot to breathe.

Slow down Liam. You’re getting in too deep, man.

“And if you ever need someone to check in on the girls, feel free to ask,” Liam said, completely ignoring his common sense. “Working from home means I’m a safe bet if they ever need help with anything and you can’t get there in time for whatever reason. I can save the day and we can bond over movies starring cute, effeminate boys.”

Even bright teeth flashed as Gabriel registered the comment even before Liam realized how it sounded.

“You like them young and pretty?”

Hello, Houston, we have a problem.

Liam winced inwardly as his attempt at flippancy crashed and burned with epic success. “Since I look terrible in orange, no, not at all. But that’s what’s available. Well, not available to me because I just turned 30 and felony records are bad.” Liam jammed his tongue hard into the back of his teeth before it could guarantee him a future of perv registration.

“We all have the types we date because it’s who we seem to attract. Then we have ideals. I like Tom Selleck,” he said finally.

Gabriel propped a broad shoulder against the porch, his shirt straining over well-defined chest muscles in a way obviously designed by God, to give Liam a heart attack.

But what a way to go.

“Old and stoic?”

Liam snorted indignantly. “No. Confident and well-seasoned like the perfect cast-iron pan you use for everything. Big capable hands. Steady. The type of guy I don’t need to draw a map to my dick for. The stash is also sexy. In a pinch I’d probably be open to MacGyver as a runner up.”

He colored as a smirk curled over Gabriel’s sensual mouth, assuring him that, yep, he had actually run that damn mini monologue aloud. His brain and mouth were apparently colluding against him today. Jeeze. Way to send a possibly perfectly diagonal specimen of a man running for the hills.

Only, Gabriel wasn’t running. Instead, he took a step closer, sending Liam’s entire world down a rabbit hole.

“I’m six-three,” he said. Liam blinked when Gabriel flashed him another smile. “Tom Selleck’s six-four. I miss the mark by an inch but I think that still drops me safely within your parameters. I’d have to work on the moustache.” One hand lightly stroked the lightly silvered stubble along his chin and cheeks. “But obviously I’m pretty handy and the girls frequently run to me with jars they can’t open but my “gorilla man hands”-their words, not mine- can. Full disclosure though, since I’m eight years older than you are, I seem to like them young. It’s a definite negative for both effeminate heartthrobs and any boy band members, but thirty is a good round number for attractive coders who are good with my kids and have a smile that can light up a room, especially when it goes all crooked at the right corner when you’re thinking about something you haven’t shared with the rest of the class.”

What?

Gabriel smiled and despite his earlier, desperately motivated teasing, Liam was speechless for a moment. He’d never been good at cruising, which was why he avoided gay bars even though there. In general, there were too many unknowns involved in the mating game, making the odds uncomfortably unpredictable for a man who liked things to make sense. Having a logical mind helped Liam excel at computer programming where there was usually a clear problem and solution, but it made him freeze up like Bambi in front of a runaway Buick when other unexpected variables came into play. Variables like your previously off-limits neighbor suddenly flirting your world into the sideways rock of a drunk operating the Disney World teacups ride.

Liam met Gabriel’s eyes warily, unsure of how to respond when it seemed like it was going to be a full moon kind of day. He didn’t think Gabriel was screwing with him but….

“Ummm…”

Yeah, that was eloquent. Fortunately, Gabriel took pity on him.

“I caught you off guard, didn’t I? Sorry…” Gabriel hooked his fingers through his tool belt like he suddenly needed to do something with his hands. “That sounded smoother in my head.”

“It’s okay,” Liam said, leaning back against the doorway with his arms tucked behind his back so he could discreetly pinch his own ass to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, or accidentally fallen through an invisible wormhole into some bizarrely hot, alternate universe.

“It was pretty smooth,” Liam said, assuring Gabriel with a smile that was probably a version of the crooked one Gabriel had mentioned. I’m just…” Shocked? Elated? Tempted to forever disgrace myself even on a proper Twink scale by doing a spazzy, happy dance? “…surprised,” he managed to get out. “Kora and Harlow…”

“Are the only wonderful things to come out of a marriage that was as unfair to Mary as it was to myself,” Gabriel said. He sighed, glancing over Liam’s shoulder a moment as if checking for little ears before his voice lowered to a warm baritone timbre Liam felt down to his toes. “Look, I know it might seem out of left field but the fact is that Mary and I had a fairly amicable divorce in the end. We realized we both made mistakes, mostly because we each changed throughout our marriage and didn’t do it together. I was denying what I really want out of life, and so was she. I wanted to settle down, have kids and enjoy the suburban life. She was always more free-spirited, wanting to see the world through a camera lens. Obviously, she loves the girls, and they love her, but they’ve always been closer to me, and kids need stability. Mary went back to being a photographer after the divorce and works with her travel writer fiancé now as they go all over the world. Pedro’s a decent guy and he helped calm things down between Mary and I. Now we both have the space we needed and can talk without screaming at each other. It all worked out in the end and Mary was surprisingly as supportive of me asking you out as the girls were.”

“Oh… that’s good… so I’m assuming that means you’re not straight?”

Gabriel smiled and Liam almost swallowed his tongue when the older man made the back-and-forth swivel hand gesture that was universal for ‘not-so-much.’

The mild, early summer morning temperatures shot up another ten degrees around Liam when Gabriel stepped up onto the porch with him as he spoke. The honest intensity of his expression flipped Liam’s heart inside out because Gabriel was looking at him like his opinion mattered. As if Liam mattered. When Gabriel’s smile warmed, Liam inconspicuously pinched himself again.

“Let’s just say that I’m trying to live my life without labels and trying to fill it with people who make me happy.”

“And the girls know?”

Gabriel’s head dipped once in the affirmative. “Mary always knew that I was bisexual. I dated both men and women before she and I got together. Our problems didn’t stem from me being closeted. I just never saw the point in telling Harlow and Kora about my sexuality if their mom and I were going to stay together for the rest our lives. My past didn’t matter in that scenario. Only our future as a family did. But after we divorced and Mary opted out of custody, preferring visitation when she can so the girls could stay with me, I sat the girls down to talk to them about the fact that if I did start dating again one day, it might be another woman, or a man. I wasn’t sure how they’d take it but,” he smiled “they didn’t have a problem with it. Even reminded me that ‘we don’t live in the dark ages anymore, daddy.’ So, they’re good with it.” Gabriel paused, his gray eyes searching Liam’s pale blue ones for a reaction to his words. “Are you ok with it?”

Liam was juggling multiple thoughts at once so it took him a hot minute to get his thoughts in order 1) Gabriel, the man he’d been lusting after for more than a year, was bisexual and 2) If the growing heat in Gabriel’s eyes when the tip of Liam’s tongue unconsciously swept nervously over his own lower lip was any indication of Gabriel’s feelings, that same man was extremely interested in Liam.

There were many levels of naked and right now, Liam felt as exposed as he did whenever he woke up from that dream—the one where he showed up for class completely nude and unprepared for the chemistry pop quiz.

Liam didn’t date much. His last relationship had ended about a year after Gabriel and the girls had moved into the neighborhood. Not because of his mild infatuation with Gabriel, or anything dramatic like finding Matt in bed with a hot bartender or the community gardener, which probably would’ve been the most exciting event of their entire relationship. They’d just sort of faded into obscurity because neither of them had been invested enough in each other to put in the work through communication and small compromises, to stay together. It was pretty much the same pattern with most of the men who’d come before Matt. He’d been an accountant. The one before him, Sean, had owned his own t-shirt company. The two before that, whose names Liam barely remembered, had been low-level Wall Street types. As Bonnie loved pointing out, Liam attracted two types of men; sweet, but generally unmotivated slackers, or the highly motivated guys who were really boring to be around, though they looked amazing on paper with their well-padded 401K’s and cookie cutter McMansions. Unfortunately, those men had earned their titles of “pencil pushers” for more than one reason.

Liam cringed inwardly when he flashed back to his and Matt’s last less-than-stellar sexual encounter. The size of a man’s feet—in Matt’s case, an 11.5— did not other things accurately predict.

Wait, strike that previous thought…

Liam dared to drop his gaze a moment to the front of Gabriel’s cargo shorts to confirm that yep, Matt might’ve been an exception to the rule.

His throat went dry as long, calloused fingers nudged his chin up with a gentleness that was strangely endearing from a man who looked confident and sturdy, like he could easily hoist Liam over one shoulder while carrying a Paul Bunyan ax over the other.

“I’m sorry, Liam. I should’ve handled this better,” Gabriel said quietly. “I’m out. I really am, but until I found someone who I wanted to invest time with, I didn’t feel like I needed to make a public announcement to the neighborhood.”

“You don’t have to apologize for any of that, Gabe. I get it. It’s not like I take out ads myself, though I’ve been tempted to try the personals lately.”

“Dry spell?”

“Dead frigging sea, man.”

Gabriel’s chuckle rumbled with more confidence this time as his gazed lingered on Liam’s mouth for a moment. “I’d have answered it. But maybe we can try it the old-fashioned way? Dinner and a movie after Bonnie collects her little dynamo?” Those dimples came out for the kill as he fished out one of the candy bars from his tool belt. “I’ll even sweeten the deal with actual sugar. The girls told me your favorite was the dark chocolate lava cake.”

Liam grinned. “Little stinkers… they made sure you came prepared.”

“They sure did. Their exact words to me were, ‘We know you like Liam, daddy, so we need to make sure you don’t crash and burn cause that’d suck for you.’”

The chuckle that started deep in Liam’s chest broke free in an easy rumble of sound that lowered his blood pressure immediately. “Makes me wonder what else they’ve told you.”

“They might’ve mentioned a few other things… May I?”

Liam lifted an eyebrow, confused by the question. He nodded anyway and Gabriel closed the gap between them another step. He smiled as he settled one of those big hands, on Liam’s left arm so he could gently push up the sleeve of the lightweight flannel that Liam was wearing over his vintage, Peanut Butter Jelly Time t-shirt. The movement revealed just a few inches of the full sleeve of beautifully rendered design and color inked into Liam’s summer peach skin. His other arm was filled the same way, just with different designs.

Liam knew his habit of dressing in his beloved Converse sneakers of all shades, age-torn jeans, and thrifted vintage t-shirts made him look younger than he was. The layers also softened the breadth of his broad swimmer’s shoulders and downplayed the delineation of Liam’s hard, flat abs and toned chest. Liam was okay with the subterfuge because he was prouder of his well-earned tech-nerd credentials, than he was about being fit simply because he wanted to live to as ripe an old age as he could. Comfortably muscled health was just a positive biological consequence of enjoying spending time in the water as often as he could. It was more about function and calming his mind, especially when he was working on a challenging project and needed to destress.

“The bet I lost was not believing them when they said you were inked up.”

“Tech nerds can’t have ink?” Liam asked, both amused and distracted by the goosebumps that were breaking out along his skin where Gabriel’s thumb was drawing lazy circles across his pulse point. “I went to school for graphic arts as well as programming, so these are all my own designs.”

“All?” Gabriel arched a brow.

“I have full sleeves, a pretty big piece on my mid-back, another on my chest, a smaller one on my upper thigh and of course, the tramp stamp on my lower back that matches Bonnie’s. We got them together to celebrate her divorce when Brady was two. K.I.S.S.”

He grinned when Gabriel looked confused. “Keep. It. Simple. Stupid,” he clarified. “I suggested we ink it across our foreheads, but Bonnie thought that might be a bit much. Anyway, most people don’t know I have abs, let alone ink. I just happened to take my hoodie off one day at practice last year when I was running laps with the girls. I regretted it immediately, because no one expects the Spanish Inquisition. But at least it suddenly made sense why the YMCA directors insist I wear shorty, long sleeved black wetsuits when I teach my swim lessons. They said it’d be, ‘less distracting.’”

“I guess I can see how looking like a sexy coloring book might catch a kid’s attention temporarily considering a pretty universal pre-pubescent love of lick-and-stick tattoos, but were the directors really that concerned about your students sinking instead of swimming?”

Gabriel looked skeptical and Liam grinned. “I think they were more concerned that those littles have people. Mostly moms who don’t see me being gay as the ultimate deterrent if they’re single and like ink or projects. I think my bosses are just trying to protect my virtue.” Liam’s grin deepened. “No tattoos for you?”

“I hate needles,” Gabriel admitted. “What are all of yours besides the one showing solidarity for your sister?”

“Showing would be quicker than telling but as open-minded as our little community is, I think our neighbors might have an issue with me stripping down on my front porch.”

The level of deep, self-satisfaction that flooded Liam’s soul when Gabriel’s eyes darkened to storm clouds with the exiting threat of lighting, was invigorating.

“Then… I guess we should set up a private swim lesson after all. Your backyard’s got to be more of an oasis than the front porch is.”

“It definitely is, though I have to ask, is a private lesson really what you want, or is this just your Hail Mary, hard sales pitch to unload your remaining candy bars.”

Liam was half teasing, though bald hope took up the majority of the emotional space currently in his head.

Tingling jolts of electric arousal slid down Liam’s spine, then reached around to zap him right in the dick when Gabriel’s fingers gently brushed Liam’s curls back away from his forehead, lingering for a moment.

“Liam”—Gabriel’s slow smile should’ve been bottled and sold as an aphrodisiac. Fuck Viagra!—“ “When I go for a hard sale, I assure you, you’ll know it.”

The cheesy but effective come-on made Liam’s breath catch as a mental image of Gabriel sweeping him up in his arms like Richard Gere in An Officer and a Gentleman to carry him into the house, suddenly etched itself across Liam’s mind and sent the memo straight to the growing bulge in his jeans.

Pulse racing, Liam forced his gaze up to meet Gabriel’s gray eyes again. Swallowing hard didn’t help remove the husky note from his voice. “Noted…”

Gabriel’s lips curved up another notch. “So, is that a yes for tomorrow night?”

The entire coast of Africa probably felt the force of Liam’s frustrated exhale. “I can’t. Bonnie won’t be back till late tomorrow night. But we can do the day after if you like?”

The subtle lines bracketing Gabriel’s lips deepened when he frowned. “That’s no good. I have a late meeting with some of the guys on my team then. We got contracted to flip a few of the older houses around here, so we’ve had our hands full. I have Thursday afternoon off though.”

“That’s great, because the girls will love to see you at their double header.” Liam crossed his arms over his chest when Gabriel offered him a puzzled look. “Which is where I’ll be on Thursday evening. Coaching and all....”

Gabriel had the grace to blush, rubbing one hand across the back of his neck. “Dad of the year,” he grumbled. “I swear I knew that. I just know it in real time when I look at the wall calendar. What about Saturday? Unless you want to join us for French Toast Friday night dinner? No pressure, but the girls like you and it’ll give you a chance to be part of our space. If you want to of course. Like I said, there’s no pressure.”

“Your kids intimidate me a lot less than you do,” Liam said truthfully, tone droll as he ran a hand though his hair again, nerves and excitement equally bad emotions when it came to keeping his hair in a presentable state. “I like French toast. Bonnie actually gave me a really good recipe for overnight French toast casserole using challah bread. It makes a lot though and it’s just me here, so I’ve only made it once. But I know from the last soccer picnic that the girls like strawberries. If I put it together on Thursday so it can soak up the creamy and buttery goodness overnight, it’ll be ready to just pop into the oven and bake before I get to your place on Friday night.”

“That works for me.” Gabriel’s smile warmed and Liam felt his pulse slow as he relaxed. This was a change from the majority of the times they’d interacted before as a dad and the couch to said dad’s kids, but so far it felt less awkward than Liam would’ve initially assumed it would. He was already close to Kora and Harlow, so winning Gabriel over really was his bigger concern and that seemed much less daunting now that they were actually talking. The romanticized, horny image of Gabriel that Liam had painted in his mind had intimidated him, but the real-life version that was warmth and humor beneath all that sex appeal, felt possible.

“Awesome. And you won’t have to get a babysitter.”

“Nope. I also won’t tell them you even mentioned a sitter since I happen to like your gorgeous eyes just as they are—without the claw marks.”

Liam barely suppressed a pleasurable shiver as Gabriel’s laughter washed over him and along his spine with an almost tactile sound.

“Thanks. Those consequences might be worse than the Ruby Woo-hoo Red polish—don’t ask.”

“I’m willing to keep your secrets as I learn them if you’re good with mine?” Gabriel shifted his weight from one foot to the other before offering Liam a second chocolate bar. This one was a dark chocolate almond and pretzel. “That one’s, my favorite. A way to keep me in mind till Friday.”

As if Liam needed any reminders. But he kept that thought to himself just like he’d probably end up keeping the candy bar unopened on his nightstand until the zombie apocalypse happened.

His eyes met Gabriel’s, their fingers brushing as Liam took the candy and pocketed both it and the other one into his jeans beneath his t-shirt, so Brady didn’t see the contraband making its way into the house.

“Is six-thirty, okay?”

Liam nodded. “Yeah that works for me. And it gives you time to get rid of the evidence,” he said, gesturing towards Gabriel’s tool belt. “I’m pretty sure I just saw Mrs. McCleary’s curtains move a little so she’s probably doing her daily peek-show. Putting her in charge of the neighborhood watch has made things interesting.”

“She did call out the window when I was walking over here and offered to buy everything I had left.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. She probably wants to make sure that’s not an extra-large candy bar you secretly have stashed in your tool-belt.”

Gabriel’s eyes crinkled at the corners when Liam called out their seventy-year-old neighbor, though he managed to hold back his laughter. “Fair enough. Until Friday then. And Liam?” Gabriel paused, his smile going from nice guy-next-door, to the devastatingly WOW, “man your-mom-warned-you-about” in five seconds flat. “I can’t wait.”

His dimples came out to play one last time before Gabriel turned, then walked down the steps. It sounded like he was humming. Liam couldn’t make out the tune, but it was cheerful sounding enough for Liam to fight back hard against the instinctive urge to fist bump the air like he was twelve not thirty. He lost the battle after less than fifteen seconds, his fist bump followed by a Snoopy dance into the house to peel Brady off the couch for some much-needed cool off time in the pool.