Millstone - Novel 01 Ch. 14

I stood there looking at James for a moment, and a thought occurred to me. "Are you married to the idea of becoming a plumber?"

"What are you thinking?" Max asked me.

"I try to take good opportunities," said James, "and that one came along. Are you about to make me an offer?"

I turned to Max. "Would you have any objections?"

"No, I trust you."

"I appreciate that, Max." I returned my eyes to the man before me and stepped closer to him. "I like you, and I want to trust you. When this case blows over, and it will. I would like you to work for us. We'll pay you to take a couple of classes to better yourself and show me you're willing to commit; I'm sure we could find something appropriate here in Franklin. You could help us set up the technical things, assist in running the business, and you can help with the leg work on our cases. You've lived here longer than us, so that's an asset. If you could show us a commitment, loyalty, and that you're worthy of the level of trust that I'm willing to give you--because you must earn it--you could go far. And over time, you could have a good life working with us as part of our team, rather than just working for us. Are you interested?"

He looked a bit dumbfounded. "Wow," he said. "I wasn't expecting that kind of offer."

Ms. Delgado returned with a cup of coffee. "So, should we break out the lease contracts?"

"Well, ma'am, that depends on our friend here," I said. "What do you say, James?"

He gave me a little smile and turned to the agent. "I think we're going to try something else."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," she said.

"But we appreciate your time." I shook her hand.

"No problem," she said, "this is my job. If you change your mind, give me a call."

Max took my hand on the way out and said, "Her coffee smelled delicious. Would you guys like some before we leave? My treat."

"That sounds great," said James. "I would love a cup, creamer, no sugar, please. And I really need to use the restroom.

"Yeah, me too," I said, "on both counts."

As Max ordered the coffee, James and I took a leak. I always had to stand back a bit when I pee at a urinal, and over the years, I had given an eyeful to many a man as a result. James noticed and just laughed.

"I want to thank you for the opportunity," he said. "I know what this could mean for my life. But could you tell me why you're giving me the chance?"

"You dropped that bullshit persona and let us see who you really are. If you hadn't, I would never have trusted you."

"I won't go back to that," he said, "I promise."

"Good." I packed my appendage away, tucked my shirt, and buttoned up. "Let me give you a tip that too many people never realize. Genuineness and a polite manner will take someone quite far in this world; it opens doors, and when that happens, you have an opportunity to shine, like the one I'm giving you now."

I moved to the sink to wash my hands, and as I stood there, James waited his turn. I glanced at him as I dried my hands with a paper towel and saw that he had tucked his shirt, showing quite a bulge. He saw that I noticed, and I smiled at him.

"I figured showing some confidence might help," he said, smiling a little.

"It just might." I clapped him on the shoulder and left to get my coffee.

The rest of the day we spent replacing the long-tailed shirts that both James and I had in our wardrobes. I decided to help him make a clean break from them, and he swore that he wouldn't go back to it. I thought of it as a celebration of our new-found independence from the societal pressure of the outside world, an appropriate sentiment for the Fourth of July.

The limited availability of shirts with long tails meant a poor selection, so neither James nor I had worn anything decent in over a decade. We even took the time to visit Albert's leather artisan, who constructed his shorts. He measured the three of us, and he said he would contact us when he had a few designs ready for our viewing. Apparently, he makes sketches before he even touches the leather. He said he had some amazing ideas in mind and assured us we would love them.

"You guys need some furniture," said James.

We had arrived home a few minutes before Edgerton. Once again, we all sat at the dining table. I admit that mealtimes hadn't caused an issue with discomfort, but I wouldn't have wanted to sit there permanently.

"The guys at Steamy Pete said the living room furniture will arrive on Monday," said Max, "but our bed will get here tomorrow between three and five in the afternoon."

"You bought furniture at Steamy Pete?" asked James.

"Yeah," I said, "what about it?"

"I have a friend who works there," he said. "Will they deliver anything with their extra special white-glove service?"

"Yeah, the living room suit on Monday," said Max.

"Oh man...may I be here when they come?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Sure, but what's the big deal?"

"You mean, you don't know? Steamy Pete has some seriously hot delivery men, and their extra special white-glove service comes with sex."

I burst out laughing.

"Really?" asked Max.

The whole thing gave me a belly laugh. "I should have guessed. We met your friend Master Brice."

"Oh, did you? What's ol' Bricie up to?"

"About seven and a half inches, according to Albert," said Max, sending a text message.

James laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like Brice."

"I texted Edgerton," Max said. "I told him to not bother knocking when he got here."

"Guys, I want to thank you for everything you've done for me," said James. "And I had a great time today. I look forward to getting this case over and working with you guys. I think together, we could create a modern business that you will find worth the initial effort, especially financially. I suspect, even with whatever you guys decide to pay me, it would still be less than half what you would have paid per month in rent at that office space, maybe even a third if you included the utilities, phone, internet, and whatever else."

"You're welcome," I said. "I'm glad you spoke your mind when I asked. Never be afraid to do that, okay?"

"Not many bosses would say that, so thanks. And I won't forget that tip you gave me."

"Good."

The detective entered the apartment. "Good afternoon, fellas! Has the big boy behaved himself today?"

"As good as gold," said Max.

Laughing to himself, James got up from the table and went to Edgerton.

He smiled at James. "Well, look at you." He noticed his shirt and that he hadn't left it hanging out.

"I guess I'm a tucker from now on," he said. "Is that alright?"

"That's more than alright. Come here, Tucker." They kissed for almost a full minute, and when it ended, Edgerton pointed at us.

"We know," I said. "We didn't see that."

"Will you guys come to the roof tonight?" he asked us.

"What for?" asked Max.

"For the city's Fourth of July fireworks display. They shoot it high over the ballpark from a nearby tower, and we have a great view of it from the roof. It starts at ten tonight."

"Sounds good to me."

"We'll be there," I said.

Max and I enjoyed seeing the smile on James's face all that day, especially when Edgerton came home. I wondered the last time that James felt happy. He took his shopping bags with him when they left, and they would have a lot to discuss over dinner that evening.

The detective and I swapped keys back, and after Max and I saw them out the door, my Golden Bear kissed and hugged me. "I am so proud of you," he said.

"I hope I never tire of hearing you say that."

"In that case, I hope I always have a reason to say it."

I began unbuttoning his shirt, and he unbuttoned mine. Once our clothes lay scattered on the floor, Max held me and whispered, "Have you any idea how much I love you?"

"Show me."

He took my hand, guiding me to where the angle of the afternoon sun, streaming through the plate glass, slowly climbed the partition that served as our headboard for one final evening. His skin and fur glowed in its reflection like the vision of some benevolent ursine god, come to carry me in his arms to some paradise. Within minutes, I had lost myself deep inside my beautiful Golden Bear, as thrust after thrust, he rode his unbridled stallion bareback at full gallop, his ass taking every inch of me and the brunt of the pounding. He fucked himself on me and fucked himself on me, grunting in the effort, and he fountained load after load of hot thick cream that rained its heat upon me like lava from a volcano.

I never wanted it to end, but too soon, I had to fight the urge to cum, and held off as long as I could. Just before it started, I pulled Max onto me and kissed him as I filled him with everything I had to give in that moment. When it ended, I smiled when I realized my Honey Bear had fallen asleep on top of me, his sticky cum gluing us together, and my cock fully implanted inside him.

We had had a long and wonderful day, with a promise of more to come, so I hadn't awakened him. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of the closeness I shared with the man I loved. The intoxicating scent of his sweat and semen filled my nostrils, and with the comforting sound of his steady breath in my ear, I drifted off.

An hour later, hunger awakened us both, and it forced us to shower, dress, and find someplace for dinner. We had some delicious fish at a locally owned restaurant near the bay called The Daily Catch, run by a straight goth couple. We enjoyed that place and would eat there again soon.

Twenty of us stood on the roof that evening. They had started congregating there about nine that night. Some of the guys brought up folding chairs and bottles of wine or coolers of beer. Albert brought a picnic pack with two bottles of his favorite Prosecco and some acrylic glasses for the five of us, namely himself, the detective, James--who everyone began calling Tucker, Max, and me.

I wondered how James would feel about his nickname, so I pulled him aside while everyone else gathered around Albert as he opened a bottle, and I asked him, "Would calling you Tucker bother you?"

"Oh, hell no, please do!"--he smiled broadly--"I think it's great. Getting a nickname like that kinda makes me feel like I belong somewhere."

"Really?"

"I've never had a family, Millstone; I grew up in an abusive and dysfunctional group home in Maryland."

"I thought you said your uncle was a lawyer."

"He's not my real uncle. His name is Charles Stanley, a pro bono lawyer in Baltimore. I had some legal issues trying to get away from the group home because of the abuse, and he became what he called my avuncular, a kind uncle-like person I could count on. He's been the closest thing to family I ever had. He even flew to Seattle, just to defend me in the lawsuit."

"I'm so sorry you've had such a hard time."

"Hey, I'm still here. That's what matters, right?"

Max brought me a glass of Prosecco. "Here you go." He handed me the glass. "I think Wade has yours," he said to Tucker.

"Oh, okay," he said and left to get it.

"Having a nice conversation with the newly dubbed Tucker, are we?" Max asked.

"In a way. It's strange how life happens." I said no more about it, but when I took Max's hand, we interlocked our fingers. I raised his hand to my face, kissed the back of it, and gave him a little smile, thinking to myself how things could have gone so differently for me.

Holding his glass, Edgerton walked over and asked Max, "May I speak to Millstone alone for a few minutes?"

"Sure," he said. "It'll give me an opportunity to ask Trouble about his day." Max kissed me and left to speak to Albert.

Edgerton stood there for a moment, giving me a bit of a blank stare. "I thought I would have something eloquent to say when I got over here," he said. "I feel like I should say something, but a simple thank you feels inadequate. Tucker told me what you did."

"It was purely for selfish reasons."

"Uh-huh," he said, "pardon me while I don't believe that. You know, Thomas told me you were a rare bird, and he's right."

"I have never belonged on a pedestal. I would hate to disappoint any of you one day and make you regret it."

"No one would ever expect you to walk on water, but you have a deep-seated need to do the right thing and to be kind and thoughtful. Those are admirable qualities. I bet you feel that all the way to your bones, don't you? You just can't help yourself."--he gave me a wry smile--"Let's join the others; they'll think we're up to no good. Oh, and by the way, your struggle to get in my good books is over."

"I don't know what to say to you, detective."

"Wade, please call me Wade when we're not working. And I'm not expecting you to say anything. I'm just letting you know that"--he tapped my chest three times in emphasis--"I see you. Come on, pal."

Three streaks of light, one each of red, white, and blue, all of which exploded into a brilliant display, kicked off the show. I stood at the parapet wall behind Max, my arms around him as we watched the fireworks, but also, I inhaled the scent of Max's hair and kissed him repeatedly on the neck. As it continued, the air began to take on the odor of something burned, and the sky turned a bit smoky, as sometimes happens with fireworks.

"I think I smell those fireworks all the way over here," said Albert.

Fortunately, the show had just enough distance to prevent the noise from overpowering our ability to speak to one another or for Wade to hear his cellphone. The show would last half an hour, and about twenty minutes in, Wade received a call from the precinct. Even in the dim light, we could see his horrified expression.

"Okay, thanks. I'll be right there," he said to the officer.

"What's happened?" asked Albert.

"Tucker, you said you live at 2453 Sweet Basil Lane, didn't you?" he asked.

"Yes. Is something wrong?"

"Your house is engulfed in flames."