Every House Has a Secret - 7

 

 

"I think we bought out the store," Brady said as he and Rand managed to get the last of their less bulky purchases into Brady's van. The drywall for the bedroom would be delivered to the house that afternoon; however, they had put off renting a sander for the floors until they were ready to tackle them.

 

On their way to the house, Rand asked, "Are we biting off more than we can chew?"

 

"Now you want to know." Brady rolled his eyed. "Nope. We can handle it, and what we can't, I'll bribe Nick into taking on."

 

"With more security? Won't he have enough by the time you 'pay' him for fixing the porch?"

 

"He will, so I'll offer him free background checks when he wants to hire new employees."

 

"That works. He starts on the porch on Monday, you said?"

 

"Yep. I'll meet him there before I go into work."

 

"I can do that," Rand said. "It's not like I'm on a set schedule right now."

 

"Deal." Brady grinned. "You can supervise."

 

"Uh-huh. Not. He'd probably jack up the cost if I did."

 

"Probably." Brady turned into the alley behind the house and used the remote to open the garage and pull in. From there, they began unloading their purchases, hauling them into the kitchen for the time being.

 

"I know one thing he can do," Rand said, after setting down several cans of paint in the corner by the basement door. "Install the new cabinets in here, once we choose them and tear out the old ones."

 

"Something to consider," Brady agreed, putting down a large container of plaster next to the paint cans before they returned to the van for the next load.

 

"Seems like you could use some help," a man said, looking over the fence at the side of the yard. "You're the guys who bought the house, I take it."

 

"Yes, sir," Brady replied, going over to join him. "I'm Brady Jordner and he's—" he gestured to Rand, "—my husband, Rand."

 

The man's eyebrows lifted momentarily, then he smiled. "Never met two men who were married to each other, but I know it happens. Doesn't bother me, so don't worry. Oh, I'm Ken Malone." He held out his hand.

 

Brady shook it, as did Rand when he joined them.

 

"Interesting last name," Ken said.

 

"We decided to blend our last names, Jordan and Turner, instead of hyphenating them."

 

"Smart. It's easier to say," Ken replied. "Anyway, if you need a hand taking stuff inside, I have two free ones."

 

Rand laughed. "That's one way to put it, and trust me, we'd love the help." He went to open the gate leading to the alley. 

 

 

Every House Has a Secret – 6

 

 

"Nope," Brady replied. "First we turn the two closets in the bedroom into a bigger walk-in one with a center door. That's going to be the hardest job and the messiest one."

 

Rand grinned. "Maybe we should buy stock in a dust mask company. Between that and the floors we're going to go through them."

 

Brady took a pen and notepad from his pocket, flipped it open and said, "Shopping list."

 

"Now? Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Rand grumbled. "It's going to have to. Our meals are here," he added when the waitress set their plates down.

 

"Consider this a working dinner," Brady teased.

 

"Brady. Honestly…"

 

Brady shut the pad and they began eating. "Drywall tape…" he said under his breath.

 

"Okay, you win." Rand rolled his eyes. "Don't forget paint."

 

Opening the pad again, Brady started their list between bites of his steak. By the time they'd finished eating, it was a page long. "Since tomorrow's Saturday, and you've already filed your stories for this week, I say we go shopping."

 

Rand nodded. "The sooner we start, the sooner everything gets done and we can move in."

 

"Now if we didn't have to work to pay for all this…"

 

"That's why we buy lottery tickets."

 

Brady snorted. "So far I think I've won five dollars and you've won twenty, twice."

 

"I live in hope."

 

"Uh-huh." Brady patted his shoulder. "Let's finish dinner, go home and get a good night's sleep. It may be the last time in months that'll happen."

 

"So we'd better take advantage of it tonight." Rand waggled his eyebrows.

 

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I'm all for it."

 

"Why am I not in the least surprised?" Rand leaned over to kiss his husband.

 

Brady returned the kiss, saying, "After all the years we've been together, you shouldn't be."

 

Every House Has a Secret - 5

 

Two days after they had seen the house, Brady and Rand made an offer on it that was less than the asking price. It was accepted almost immediately, much to their relief. They had already been pre-approved for a mortgage and had enough in savings for the down payment. 

 

The next step was the inspection. Thankfully, the inspector found no surprises. It was structurally sound, just as the realtor had said, and the plumbing was good, as were the electrical components. He did tell them they should have the chimney cleaned and that they ought to consider updating the appliances.

 

"The air conditioning units definitely need to be replaced," he said. "As does the bathroom toilet."

 

"But not the tub?" Brady asked. "It looks like it's as old as the house."

 

"It's not. It's an excellent reproduction and the plumbing is fine."

 

"Why would someone…? Never mind. They probably wanted it to look like it belonged to the house," Rand said. "Since we need a new toilet, maybe we should look into getting a real tub or a shower stall at the same time."

 

Brady shook his head, muttering, "Budget, Rand, budget." He turned to the inspector to ask, "What about the cracks and the missing swath of plaster in the wall by the fireplace? Are they something we should be worried about? "

 

"No. It's not structural. My best guess is someone knocked something heavy against it. Replaster before you paint and you'll never know they were there."

 

"Good. I was afraid the house had shifted and we might be facing worse if it happened again."

 

"Don’t worry, it hasn't."

 

The appraiser calculated the value of the house and property at above the asking price, which worried Brady when he thought about property taxes, until the man told him the city's appraisal would undoubtedly be less due to the values of other homes in the neighborhood.

 

The last step was getting final mortgage approval. As soon as that happened, they closed on the house and it was theirs.

 

"Now comes the fun part," Rand said that evening as they celebrated at their favorite restaurant.

 

"Busting our asses for the next six months so we can move in?"

 

"Three months, tops, if we spend every waking hour at the house when we're not working."

 

Brady smiled. "When you dream, you dream big."

 

"It'll happen. You'll see. You already found a contractor to deal with the porch so that's off our to-do list."

 

"It was a fair trade-off. I'll set up much better security on Nick's company than he has now in exchange."

 

"I love barter systems," Rand said. "Now if you had a client who was a plumber…"

 

"Sorry, I don't. We'll hit up the home improvement store for the toilet and air conditioners and hope they don't charge an arm and a leg to install them."

 

"And rent a sander for the floors because that's where we need to start."

Every House Has a Secret – 4

 

When they were back in the car, Rand said, "We'll have to invest a lot of sweat equity in it, but I think it'll be worth it. Sure, it's not in as good a shape as the other place, but I really like it. And it doesn't have God-awful wall paper we'd have to strip off."

 

Brady chuckled. "You don't like pine trees, and pink peonies, and yellow and orange paisley?"

 

"Not even. Dayum. And the mirrored wall in the one bedroom?" He gave a mock shiver. "Was the distressing planned or were the mirrors disintegrating?"

 

"No clue, but they would definitely have to go, which would be a big job."

 

"Yeah. I'd rather spend hours painting, here—instead of taking down mirrors and removing wallpaper at the other one, and then having to paint anyway after we had."

 

When they returned to their apartment, they sat down and went over all the pros and cons of both houses, and how much work they could do themselves without hiring contractors to turn either of them into a place they'd be proud to own.

 

"One more thing about the second house," Rand said. "Even if she can't get the owner to lower the price, it's still a lot cheaper than the first one."

 

"Almost a fire sale, although obviously that hasn't happened." Brady looked at the pictures on the realtor's website again. "About the only thing that hasn't," he said wryly. "Still, why would someone walk away from it?"

 

"Personal reasons, according to the realtor," Rand replied. "Maybe it holds bad memories. Maybe they, or their father, let things go for so long they decided they couldn't afford the repairs even though they got the house for free. Maybe they decided to move to Outer Mongolia and just walked away."

 

"I want to see anyone walk to Outer Mongolia."

 

"Oh, shush," Rand replied, smacking Brady's arm. "You know what I meant."

 

Brady grinned, giving him a quick kiss. "I did. Whatever the reason, I think it was good for us. We both like the place, even if it will take us forever to get it back in shape."

 

"As long as the inspector doesn't find something horribly wrong with it."

 

"Let's hope not."

 

 

Every House Has a Secret - 3

 

 

"How long has this been vacant?" Brady asked the realtor as they walked up the path to the house. A logical question because the front porch was in dire need of stripping down to the original wood and brick, and the front steps had a large crack in the concrete between two of them that would have to be filled.

 

"Unfortunately, too long," the realtor admitted. "The previous owners inherited it about eight years ago, if I remember correctly, and had great plans for it. Then, due to personal circumstances, they said, they had to walk away before they did anything to it. That was in twenty-twelve, according to my records. They finally decided to put it up for sale two years ago. By then it had fallen into disrepair. It is structurally sound, but, well you'll see when we get inside."

 

The wide front door opened onto an entryway with hardwood flooring and a staircase going up to the second floor. Although they had been painted brown, Brady could tell that the railings were hardwood as well because the paint was peeling. All the downstairs walls were beige and sun streaked where the light from the windows hit them.

 

"The floors are a disaster," Rand said under his breath.

 

"True," Brady agreed. "But they're original and with a good sanding and then varnishing I bet they'd be beautiful. The fireplace in the living room is a plus, although we need to find out what caused the cracks in the wall next to it. If they are because the house shifted it could be a problem. At least the first floor has, what do they call it? An open floor plan?"

 

Rand chuckled. "Meaning archways, not doors between the rooms? Yeah. And the woodwork is beautiful, or will be once it's cleaned up. What I really like is the library with all the bookshelves"

 

Brady grinned. "Why am I not surprised about that, my literary freak?"

 

Rand ignored his teasing, saying, "Give the library walls a fresh coat of paint and get rid of those horrible throw rugs…"

 

"And you'll be in seventh heaven."

 

"Oh, yeah."

 

The kitchen cabinets were about as distressed as its linoleum floor, and the appliances were old, although not antique. The upstairs hardwood flooring was also in bad shape. The two bedrooms had white walls, tiny closets—two of them in the master bedroom—and doors with antique hardware. The bathroom looked as if it hadn't been repainted since well before the turn of the century. The fixtures were older, and Brady wondered if the clawfoot tub had been there since the house was built in the early twentieth century.

 

There was a narrow backyard with a path down the center leading to the two-car garage. One tree stood in lonely splendor a few yards from the house. The grass was sparse, and brown.

 

"The price is right," Brady told the realtor when they rejoined her in the living room. "It will take a lot of work, though."

 

She smiled. "That's why it's listed as a fixer-upper. I'm sure the owners will be willing to drop the price a bit, just to get it off their hands."

 

"A definite plus. We'll let you know within the next day or so what our decision is."

 

"I'll talk with the owners' representative and call you if they decide to let it go for less than the asking price."

 

Every House Has a Secret – 2

 

 

"Why do I think you planned this whole discussion ahead of time, down to moaning about not enough bookshelf space?" Brady asked.

 

"Because you know me."

 

"Very well," Brady replied softly. "Well enough I've stuck around."

 

Rand snorted. "If sticking around means you married me, I guess you did."

 

"The best decision of my life," Brady said, kissing him. "Okay, young man, let's see if there's anything we can afford on your salary and what I bring in. Hopefully something that won't fall down around our ears before we make the first mortgage payment."

 

"That would be a good idea," Rand replied. He went to the desk in one corner of the living room, returning with his laptop. Once he was online, he did a search for 'fixer-uppers'.

 

"More than I expected," Brady said when a realty website came up.

 

As Rand scrolled though the options they saw that at least half would require an almost total rebuild. "Why don't they knock them down and sell the land?" Rand asked.

 

"I have no clue." Brady tapped one picture on the list. "At least this one has four walls and roof that look like they're in decent shape."

 

Rand brought up the information so they could see the interior. "Decent sized rooms, but who was their decorator? The designer of the Grand Guignol?"

 

He had a point. The walls in the main rooms were painted red and black, and the floors were also black. On the second floor, the two bedrooms were midnight blue, with carpeting that had once been black but was now faded in places to a dull gray.

 

"Hippy joint in its last incarnation, would be my bet," Brady replied.

 

"Naw. They'd have done it in fluorescent greens and pinks and yellows, which would have been just a bad. I think we can eliminate this one."

 

"No kidding."

 

They continued looking, bookmarking ones that had at least some semblance of possibilities. When they were finished, they had a list of seven houses within their price range which they figured they could redo on their own with minimal help from a contractor unless one was absolutely necessary.

 

They called the various realtors to set up appointments to see them, and then spent their evenings for the following week looking at them—except on the night when Rand was at the city council meeting, taking notes for story he was writing for the Weekly Register, the newspaper where he worked. Finally, they narrowed it down to two choices.

 

Every House Has a Secret - 1

 

"If I buy one more book…" Rand grumbled as he tried to find space in the bookshelves for the one he'd just finished reading.

 

Brady laughed. "You say that every time and you still insist on buying them instead of using the library, or getting an E-reader."

 

"I like owning them. The real thing," Rand retorted. "After all these years you should know that."

 

"I do," Brady replied, smiling at his husband. "I suppose we could buy another set of shelves but where the hell would we put them?"

 

Rand looked around the living room in their apartment, sighing. Then he brightened. "Maybe it's time to do what we've talked about and buy a house."

 

"It's a nice dream, it always has been, but it's not in the budget and you know it."

 

"Only because we keep thinking about something that's ready to move into." Rand dropped down beside Brady on the sofa. "What if…?" He tapped a finger to his lips.

 

"Don't stop now."

 

"We're both fairly handy. We did some work on your office before you moved in."

 

"Painting and building the partition so I'd have a separate space other than the coat closet off the waiting room to store my surveillance equipment."

 

"It was a wall, and we did a damned good job of it, too."

 

"We did," Brady acknowledged. "But if you're going where I suspect you are." He shook his head.

 

"Think about it," Rand persisted. "We find a fixer-upper that's basically solid but in bad shape. Maybe it has tiny rooms or old carpeting over decent flooring. Or the paint is peeling and the kitchen has appliances from the forties."

 

"Or all of the above?" Brady replied with a laugh.

 

"Maybe. But if we found someplace like that, and put our minds to it, we could turn it into the house we want. It would cost a lot less to buy than one in good shape. Right?"

 

"Presumably." Brady slanted him a look. "You've been watching those home improvement shows again, haven't you?"

 

Rand grinned. "Caught me. Still, it's a feasible option, I think."

 

"First we have to see what's out there and what kind of prices they're asking."

 

"Yes!" Rand hugged him.

Don't Touch Me! - 52

 

"You are," Brent said when he could speak again, "an absolutely amazing man."

"No." Cody shook his head. "Not at all amazing. I'm just a guy in love with the one person who cared enough to find the man behind the barriers I'd erected."

"A very wonderful—" Brent didn't get to finish his statement. Not that he cared since he was being heartily kissed by then. Naturally it led to a second round of love making, during which the words 'I love you' were spoken whenever either of them wasn't otherwise involved in proving it in a much more physical way.

"We need to get some sleep," Brent said much later.

"Meaning you're going home."

"Now why would you think that?"

"Because? Unless…"

Brent grinned. "Unless I want to wake up with you beside me? I do. I'd love to find you in my arms every day of the week."

Cody leaned on one elbow, looking down at Brent. "Then move in with me."

"Whoa." Brent knew his shock showed on his face from the look of hurt in Cody's expression as the younger man moved away, staring up at the ceiling. "Hey," Brent said softly, "I wasn't rejecting the idea. I was surprised is all." When Cody looked hopefully at him, Brent smiled. "I can't until next weekend, if you don't mind waiting that long."

"Mind? Hell no, I don't mind. God, I love you so much now."

"Remember that in six weeks when we're fighting for who gets the shower first."

"That's easily solved. We'll share." Cody yawned. "Everything."

"Works for me, sleepyhead." Brent planted a swift kiss on Cody's lips. "Now, as I said a while ago, let's actually get some sleep. I don't know about you, but I have to work tomorrow, being as how it's only Tuesday."

"We both do, so yeah…" Cody curled up in Brent's arms. "Love you."

"Love you back," Brent replied, closing his eyes. His last coherent thought? Who knew, when you walked into my office, our lives would come to this. Not me, but I'm not complaining. Not. In. The. Least.

The End

Don't Touch Me! - 51

"Of course I did. If it wasn't for you…" He took the page, reading aloud. "Dedication… To the man who saved me. The man I love, heart and soul. My one and only Brent." He looked at Brent. "It's not too gushy is it?"

"No, my dear man, it's perfect." Brent wrapped him it tight embrace. "I love you so much—heart and soul." He grinned. "And body of course. That does play into it."

"Now who's being silly?" Cody said, his face alight with happiness.

"Me? Never." Brent kissed Cody deeply. "Thank you."

"Thank you! Without you—"

"If I have my way, you'll never be without me. Now"—Brent glanced at the oven—"what about we eat then celebrate in the best way I know how…in bed."

"I think that's a perfect idea."

When they'd finished dinner and had cleaned up, Brent suggested they take their coffee into the living room so he could start reading Cody's manuscript. Cody nodded, although he didn't look all that happy about the idea.

Brent grinned. "You had something else in mind?"

"You know I did," Cody retorted.

"Like..." Laughing, Brent picked Cody up, tossing him over his shoulder, and headed upstairs.

"Damn," Cody muttered when Brent deposited him on the bed. "Is this going to be our foreplay every time we make love? Not, you understand, that I'm complaining. It does add a certain extra to the proceedings."

Rather than replying, Brent grabbed the hem of Cody's T-shirt, pulling it up and off the younger man with a flourish. Then he stripped off his own shirt, tossing both of them on the chair by the dresser.

Cody laughed, commenting, "You aren't in a hurry, are you?"

"Let's just say, if we're not both completely naked, in ten seconds or less…"

It took a bit longer, since they had shoes, socks and jeans to deal with, but soon enough they were. Brent looked at Cody, who was now sprawled wantonly in the center of the bed. He wanted nothing more than to pounce but first…

Sitting next to Cody, Brent idly traced a finger along the fine line of Cody's jaw. "I need to ask you something, and I want an honest answer, not what you think I want to hear."

Cody seemed surprised, saying quietly, "All right. Ask away."

"I'd like to… Okay, not the best way to preface this. Would you be willing for us to do more than just give each other…? Damn, this isn't easy."

Cody broke into laughter. "Do I want us to go all the way? Hell, yes."

He tapped Brent's nose, grinning when Brent muttered, "That's my thing."

"I case you haven't noticed, I won't break. Not anymore. Yeah, I'm not stupid, or a total innocent, as you should know by now. I know what's involved," Cody said assuredly.

"But it's been a long time."

"So we take it slow. I have a feeling you're good at it, as patient as you've been with me about everything else." Wrapping his arms around Brent's neck, Cody concluded by saying, "Does that answer your question?"

"Yes," Brent replied softly. Then they kissed and everything progressed from there as they knew it would, until they reached shattering climaxes that left them limp, breathless and totally sated.

 

Don't Touch Me! - 50

 

Brent called Walt Monday morning, asking him to have talk with Mr. Garey about the two men who were with him the afternoon they beat-up Cody. Walt said he would, promising to call if he got any information. He did, later the same day.

"Garey finally let loose with names for his two buddies. Cody's father picked some real winners to do his dirty work. The good news is, neither of them is here in the city now. One is downstate, serving time for armed robbery."

"Serves him right," Brent muttered.

"Yeah. He won't be out for a long time. According to Garey, John Temple, the second man, is back east somewhere. He thinks either Philly or Baltimore but that was a couple of years ago. I ran a check on the guy and he's no winner either, with a rap sheet as long as your arm—mainly for petty crimes."

"You're certain he's not back here again?"

"Garey says he isn't. He and Temple grew up together, so whenever Temple comes to town, he gets in touch with Garey. I think you can tell Cody he's got nothing to worry about on that front." Walt chuckled. "Now hooking up with you is another story."

"Hey! Besides which, what makes you think we're more than just friends?"

"Because he's the first man I've ever seen you take a really personal interest in. Sure, maybe in the beginning he was just a client. But if that was the case, you'd have been out of his life the second I told you he was no longer a suspect in his mother's murder. No, Brent, my best guess is you and he are well on your way to being a couple."

"Okay, I'll admit we're definitely working on it."

"Good. It's about time you settled down and had a life outside of work. And it's time I got back to work."

As soon as he hung up, after thanking Walt for all his help, Brent called Cody to relay the information. Cody was obviously relieved, but from the tone of his voice, there was something else going on with him. When Brent asked, all Cody would say was he'd tell him after dinner.

"I'm coming for dinner?" Brent asked with amusement.

"Yes. Well… Please?"

"I can't think of a better way to end the day," Brent replied. "Around six?"

"Perfect. I'll see you then. Love you."

"Love you too."

Almost the second Brent stepped onto the porch at Cody's house two hours later, the door opened.

Brent grinned. "Don't tell me you were watching for me."

"I won't, but I was," Cody replied, grabbing Brent's hand to tug him inside. He immediately kissed him, getting one in return, of course. "Dinner's ready."

Sniffing, Brent said, "Italian?"

"Nope, I'm English on Mother's side and…"

Brent put a finger to Cody's lips. "You're also being silly. What's going on?"

"I finished it!"

"Hot damn!" Brent hugged him hard, knowing he meant the book. "When do I get to read it?"

"Technically, not until it's published. But since it's you…" Cody grinned, taking Brent's hand again to lead him into the kitchen. On the table by Brent's place was a thick pile of papers. "There will be changes of course, between this and when it comes out, but you get first look."

Brent looked at the top page. "You didn't."

Don't Touch Me! - 49

 

Cody writhed, riding the waves of pleasure, wanting to give as well as receive. He turned his head, his lips meeting Brent's, and kissed him. As he did, he ran his fingers slowly across Brent's back then down the length of his spine. Feeling mischievous, he tickled Brent.

"Brat," Brent muttered, returning the favor. Cody broke into gales of laughter as he tried to wriggle away. "Oh no you don't," Brent said, grabbing Cody's wrists.

Cody froze, his heartbeat accelerating, his breath coming out in short, sharp pants.

Instantly, Brent released him, his expression filled with remorse. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

Cody gripped Brent's arms to keep him from moving away. "I'm…okay," he replied, and, he realized that he was. Now his heart was pounding for a different reason, as he looked up at Brent. "Let me show you." He made a circling motion with one finger—a message Brent obviously got since he rolled over onto his back. Cody straddled him, one hand on Brent's rampant cock. He leaned down, about to take it into his mouth, and remembered. "I hope…"

Brent pointed. Cody opened the nightstand drawer. A moment later Brent was sheathed, then Cody set to work, reveling in the pleasure he was giving his lover. When Brent came, he grasped Cody's shoulders so hard Cody bit his lip to keep from crying out—but he didn't panic the way he had when Brent had held his wrists just minutes ago. All Cody felt was elation. I've made him happy and conquered my fear. Because of him, with his help, I can live again. 

"I hurt you," Brent said contritely when he realized what had happened.

"Yes," Cody admitted reluctantly. "But it's all right. It was momentary, and knowing I could give you so much pleasure"—he cupped Brent's face to be certain he was listening—"made it worth it."

"You certainly did that," Brent replied. "Now, it's my turn." He put his arms around Cody, rolling them over. "Seems to me this was where we were before you started your tickling game." Without giving Cody a chance to reply, Brent kissed him deeply. "Now, my man," he said when they broke the kiss, "let me get down to business—pun, intended."

Brent did, sheathing Cody's cock before driving him past pleasure into ecstasy with his very skillful mouth. When Cody came, he felt rapture he would have thought impossible until that moment. What will it be like when we go all the way? I might die from it, but what a way to go.

"If your smile was any wider, I could nickname you The Joker," Brent said, nuzzling Cody's neck.

"That bad, huh?"

"No. That good. How many times have I told you that I love seeing you smile."

"I blame it on you. You've given me more than enough reasons to."

"I intend to keep on doing it, whenever possible. Now, however, we'd better get moving. I did promise you dinner and I don't believe in breaking promises."

"You never have, with me at least," Cody told him as he sat up, trying to remember where he'd left his bag.

"It's still in the living room."

"Mind reading?" Cody asked.

"Nope, expression reading. You looked puzzled. We need to get dressed. I put two and two together…"

"Which is what makes you a great detective," Cody said with a grin as he stood. Before he could walk away, Brent was there, wrapping him in a tender embrace. When Cody looked up at him, Brent said softly, "I love you."

"I know," Cody replied. "I love you too. More now than yesterday, and less than tomorrow."

Brent chuckled, kissing him quickly. "The writer speaks."

"Too…clichéd?" Cody asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, maybe, but perfect nonetheless." He released his hold on Cody, patting his ass. "Go get your bag and get dressed, because I'm starving."

"You're not the only one," Cody replied, going to do as Brent requested.

 

Out today, 'It Takes a Photographer - Quint and Clay Art Crimes Book 5'!

 It Takes a Photographer

Quint and Clay Art Crimes Book 5

https://www.jms-books.com/edward-kendrick-c-224_229/it-takes-a-photographer-p-3806.html 

It Takes a Photographer - Kindle edition by Kendrick, Edward. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/it-takes-a-photographer-edward-kendrick/1124332362?ean=9781646567393

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/it-takes-a-photographer-1

 

GENRE: Gay Mystery Romance
LENGTH: 21,606 words
RATING:

Olivia is a photographer working at Rory and Lou's art gallery. While taking pictures at the party Clay and Quint throw to celebrate the adoption of their son, she captures what seems to be a murder in the building behind them.

Lou and Quint take it upon themselves to investigate -- unofficially at first -- with the help of Rory and Gideon Monahan. When they find out the presumed victim is alive and denying anything happened, they dig deeper. Things heat up as Rory goes undercover to try to learn the truth while the others delve into the backgrounds of the people involved and Olivia finds more photos relevant to the case.

Now all they have to do is find out what the photos really show, and if what looked like a murder may be even more than it seems.

EXCERPT:

Two days after the party, Olivia strode into Valencia Gallery as soon as it opened, looking ... disturbed was the first word that came to Lou's mind as she came into the office. He wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for the fact his hours at the precinct had changed. He was now working two to ten.

Olivia had a portfolio under one arm that she set down on the desk.

"I have to show you something," she said, flipping it open. "Tell me if I'm crazy."

"Okay." Lou waited while she thumbed through the pictures before laying three of them out in front of him.

"What do you see?" she asked.

"Quint. And Clay holding Jamie, sitting on one of the lounge chairs. They all look very happy. Okay ... Jamie looks more like he's about to fall asleep, poor baby."

"Look behind them."

Lou did, then asked, "What am I supposed to be seeing?"

Taking a magnifying glass from her purse, she handed it to him. "Look at the window to the right of them, in the building behind them. I wouldn't have seen it if I hadn't been trying to decide how to crop the photos."

Lou did, then frowned. "It might not be what it looks like," he said, tapping one of the pictures.

"But you do see it. It's not my imagination."

"Yeah. He seems to have his hands around her throat. At least, I guess it's a female ... or a male with long hair. Hard to tell from the profile." Lou looked up at her. "Can you ... Did you blow this up?"

She nodded, taking another photo from the portfolio.

"What's going on?" Rory asked, coming into the office. "Oh, you have pictures from Clay and Quint's party. Great. Can I see?"

"Just these," Olivia replied. "I wanted Lou to look at them."

Rory rested his hand on the desk, leaning in to take a look. "So much love," he said quietly.

"Unfortunately, that depends on where you look," Lou replied, pointing the window behind Quint and Clay in one of the photos, then to the blow-up of it that Olivia had made.

Rory whistled. "Not so much love there, from the look of it." He glanced at Olivia. "Do you know which building this is?"

She shook her head. "What you're seeing is all that I got of it."

"Then we need to pay Clay a visit so he can let us up on the roof," Lou stated, piling the photos together then handing them to her.

"Kevin and I can watch the place while you're gone," Rory said. "Unfortunately, we're not exactly booming with business, even though it's Sunday."

Lou nodded, offering to drive, which Olivia accepted.

On the way over to Clay's place, she asked, "Do you really think he was killing her?"

"Or him. It's hard to tell. The room is too dark. If they had been a little closer to the window ..."

"It was late afternoon and the sun was behind that building," Olivia replied. "I tried to enhance it, but I can only do so much."

"And you're the expert, so that's probably the best we'll get." Lou realized he should let Clay know they were on their way over. When Clay answered, Lou only asked if he was going to be home for a while.

"Yep. Jamie's asleep, so I'm taking advantage of that to get in some painting."

"I bet." Lou chuckled before they hung up.

Clay let them into the loft a few minutes later, putting a finger to his lips, pointing toward the screen blocking off an area at the far end of the main room before leading them into his studio. "So what's this all about?" he asked.

Olivia handed him the portfolio.

"I want copies of all of these," Clay stated, spreading the photos out on his work table. Then he came to the blow-up of the window. "Or not." He looked at Lou. "Is this what it looks like?"

"That's what I need to find out. First, though, we have to go up to the roof so we can figure out which building it is."

"Sure. Come on." Clay turned to Olivia. "Would you mind terribly --?"

"Staying here, in case Jamie wakes up? Not at all."

Taking the photos with them, Clay and Lou went up to the rooftop patio. It didn't take them long to determine which building was in the photos. Leaning on the railing, Lou counted the floors from the sidewalk to the window in question. "Seventh floor, rear. It looks like it's an apartment building."

"Probably, although, since she took the pictures Friday afternoon, it could be a business."

"Only one way to find out." Lou counted the windows across from the corner of the building. "Okay, I'll leave you to it and see what I can find out."

 

Don't Touch Me! - 48

"Nice…sink."

"Yep."

"Nice…shower."

"It is," Brent agreed. "You'll get a better view from inside it."

"I'm…" Cody looked at the shower, then at Brent. "Scared," he admitted.

"Cody, we're only taking a shower. Nothing more. Okay, maybe a bit more because I'll try to work the kinks out of your shoulder. But if it's all you can handle, that'll be it." He caressed Cody's cheek. "I promise."

"I feel like…this isn't fair to you," he said, looking down at Brent's half-erect cock.

"I'm fine. Yeah, if you want the truth, I definitely have designs on your virtue," Brent replied with a wicked grin, "but not until we're both absolutely certain you're ready. So get your fine ass in there because I am, with or without you."

Brent stepped into the shower stall, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature. After a long moment of wondering if he really could do it, Cody joined him.

Brent moved aside so Cody could get under the water. The heat felt wonderful and Cody began to relax—until he turned and saw Brent watching him. Cody's body responded in ways which would make it extremely clear to Brent he wasn't immune to very physical attributes of the man who was now smiling at him. Suddenly, he was in Brent's arms, being kissed with a hunger that matched his own.

Then, very unexpectedly, Brent released him, moving an arm's length away. "I didn't plan on doing that," he said, looking conscience-stricken. "But…"

Well aware Brent wasn't going to push him into something he wasn't certain Cody could handle, Cody almost allowed his apology to stand…but didn't. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Brent, asking quietly, "Do you hear me complaining? I got in here, knowing what might happen. In case you didn't notice, I'm not unaffected by you standing here in all your naked glory." He took Brent's hand, pressing it to his own hard cock.

"Naked glory?" Brent chuckled.

"So I'm a writer. I get clichéd at times—at least according to my editor. Can we go back to the subject at hand? Or in hand?" Cody moaned when Brent stroked his cock.

"I'm all for that, but not in here. Making love in a shower sounds sexy but it can be damned uncomfortable. So wash up and let's take this into the bedroom, if you haven't changed your mind by then."

"That is not going to happen," Cody said emphatically. Then he realized his reply could be taken two ways. "I mean, my changing my mind."

They washed quickly, rinsed off, and once they were out of the shower, dried off. Then, grinning, Brent picked Cody up, tossed him over his shoulder and carried him into the bedroom, depositing him on the bed before Cody could protest—which he wouldn't have.

"What do you like?" Brent asked, kneeling over Cody.

"To…to be touched by someone I love," Cody murmured.

"Like this?" Brent brushed his fingertips lightly over Cody's nipples.

"Oh, yes," Cody managed to reply as a spasm of need went straight to his groin. "Just like that."

"Or this?" Brent bent, gently nipping Cody's earlobe. He smiled when Cody hissed in a breath, moving to the other ear to nibble. All the while, his fingers danced across Cody's chest, working their way lower and lower, following the fine line of hair leading down to what Cody prayed was Brent's ultimate destination.