Fear - 54

Shawn paused, took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. As if he'd been waiting right there, Gene opened the door then stepped aside to let him in.

"Nice," Shawn said once the welcoming kiss from Gene was finished.

Gene chuckled. "The kiss or the room?"

"Both?" Shawn grinned, finally looking around.

The living room was larger than he'd expected from looking at the house from the outside. It had a hardwood floor, extending into the dining room which Shawn could see through a large, oak-framed arch. There was a fireplace on one wall and, just as Gene had promised, Shawn's drawing of him hung on the wall above it. Facing the fireplace was a dark blue, upholstered, semi-circular sofa with a beige-toned Native American designed rug between them. The painted walls matched the color of the rug, with oak baseboards and cornices. At least I think that's what the trim at the top of the walls is called.

The dining room was a smaller version of the living room, but with a circular, glass-topped table and four antique-looking chairs set in front of another fireplace.

"At least you won't get cold in the winter," Shawn commented before Gene led him into the kitchen. "Whoa, now this I didn't expect, as much as you eat out."

Gene laughed. "It came this way, but I do use it."

Oak cabinets and counters, a large stainless steel refrigerator, and matching oven took up three of the walls, with a long bank of windows on the fourth. In the center of the room was an oak island with a marble countertop which Shawn figured served as the kitchen table since there were two tall stools on one side.

"A roast?" Shawn asked, sniffing the air.

"Yep. Pot roast, which should be ready in about twenty minutes."

Shawn grinned. "I'm not sure I can wait that long." Then he sighed dramatically when Gene told him he didn't have a choice. "In that case, show me the rest of the house."

Gene did, taking him up a narrow flight of stairs at one side of the front door to the second floor. There were two bedrooms, one small one, which Gene said was the guest room, "Although I never have guests," he told Shawn with a slight, tense smile.

"Why not?" Shawn blurted out without thinking.

"I like my privacy," was Gene's taut reply. He obviously regretted his tone of voice because seconds later he quickly apologized. "I'm just not big on entertaining unless it's someone I feel very comfortable with, like you."

Shawn hesitated, remembered Max's advice about being open and honest with Gene, and replied, "Because this is your sanctuary, the place where you feel safe." He tensed when Gene frowned, instinctively taking a step backwards.

"Hey, none of that," Gene said, reaching out to take Shawn's hand as his frown faded away. "I wasn't angry. I was just surprised you…you understood." He smiled, putting his arm around Shawn's waist. "Though I guess I shouldn't have been. You're one smart young man."

"Who's been there too, so why shouldn't I get it? And before this turns into 'poor us', show me your bedroom so we can go back downstairs and eat."

Gene shook his head, his gaze as he looked at Shawn full of amusement. "I have the feeling you're going to be good for me. Not that I didn't know that already. You have a way of…"

"Making you see what's important, like dinner." Shawn grinned as he moved away to open the door next to the guestroom. "Okay, I found the bathroom," he muttered, "which isn't too shabby. So this door"—he opened the one across the hallway—"better be your bedroom."

It was. The room was light and airy, thanks to the west-facing windows. Hardwood flooring and beige walls matched the downstairs rooms. There was a large bed, covered with a deep brown comforter, a dresser, and a tall bookcase filled almost to overflowing. Beside it hung three crossed swords, which Gene said had been part of a collection for sale at the Farmer's Market the previous summer.

Shawn saw a pile of books on the nightstand and jumped to the logical conclusion. "You read in bed."

Gene nodded. "Always."

"I can think of better things to do." Shawn grinned wickedly.