You Belong to Me - 1

 

Kerry leaned back, studying his brothers. It had been a year since the whole family had been together—last Christmas, in fact.

 

Phil, being Phil, was dressed casually—to put it mildly—in a plaid flannel shirt and old jeans. His dark hair was desperately in need of cutting and his beard, while short, looked ragged. Of course, since he and his fiancée, Cathy, had just arrived twenty minutes earlier from the west coast, where Phil worked as a screenwriter, Kerry wasn’t too surprised that his brother wasn’t dressed to the nines—But the hair and the beard….

 

Shaking his head, Kerry turned his attention to his younger brother. Corey was Phil’s polar opposite. His brown hair was stylishly short. He was clean-shaven, wearing well-pressed slacks, a blue button-down shirt under a gray V-necked sweater, and even a tie.

 

He always was the most conservative of us. Still the tie is a bit of overkill, even if we’re going to Mass later.

 

Kerry glanced at his reflection in the mirror over the credenza. He was wearing nice jeans and a red turtleneck in honor of the season. He smiled as he looked at his girlfriend, Jena, in her black slacks and red blouse. She was in the kitchen with Cathy and his mother, Linda. Whatever the topic of conversation, the three women were deeply engrossed in it.

 

“Comparing recipes?” Kerry’s father, Tom, said with a grin, joining his sons at the dining room table.

 

“Or clothes, or men, or whatever women talk about when their guys are out of earshot,” Phil replied, laughing. He turned to Corey. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring your latest conquest with you.”

 

Corey smiled tightly. “At the moment I’m between ‘conquests,’ as you put it. Besides which, this is supposed to be a family celebration.”

 

Phil arched an eyebrow. “Cathy’s almost family. One more month and counting. And from what Mom said in one of her e-mails, Kerry and Jena are living together now, so she belongs here too.”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound pissy,” Corey muttered.

 

Phil clapped him on the back. “It’s okay. That’s just your way.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Hoping to defuse the situation, Kerry immediately asked Phil, “What’s your newest project?”

 

He got more than he bargained for in reply when Phil gave them a blow-by-blow description of a film script he had been contracted to write by one of the major studios.

 

'Targeted' is out!

Targeted

https://www.jms-books.com/edward-kendrick-c-224_229/targeted-p-4047.html

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09KKN25XC

 

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/targeted-edward-kendrick/1140394425?ean=9781646569205

 

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/targeted-35

 

GENRE: Gay Mystery Erotic Romance
LENGTH: 43,729 words
RATING:

Eddie is on the run after one too many 'accidents' that could have proven deadly. He has no idea who is causing them, or why, or how his adversary finds him again and again. After two years, he ends up in Denver, and decides that with yet another new identity, it might be safe to settle down, so he rents an apartment.

That leads to his meeting Jules -- who owns a gay club and lives down the hall -- as well as his friends. He soon finds out that Jules is not choosy about who he has sex with, but that he also cares about his friends. When Eddie opens up to him about being on the run, and why, Jules wants to help him. At the same time they start what Eddie is certain will be a casual sexual relationship, at least as far as Jules is concerned.

Between them, will they be able to learn who is after Eddie, with the help of Jules' friends, and stop him? As they try, Eddie must also deal with his growing interest in Jules, who, he is certain, will never be willing to settle for having only one man in his life.

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

"It must be nice to have such good friends." Eddie sighed wistfully.

"You don't, or didn't where you used to live?" Jules asked with some surprise.

"No, at least not recently. I move around too much these days. Acquaintances, sure, but I wouldn't classify them as more than that."

Jules shot him an inquisitive look before suggesting they continue their conversation in his office.

They went up to the second floor. A hallway ran the length of the house with several doors on each side. At one end was another flight of stairs which took them up to what Eddie had properly surmised had once been a small attic.

It contained Jules' office and after Eddie took a seat on the sofa, Jules sat at the other end, studying Eddie. "My first question I suppose, since it's why you came with me tonight, is what sort of job would you prefer if you had your choice?" He pointed a finger at Eddie. "Be honest."

Eddie debated whether he should be, and decided he had nothing to lose. What's the worst that could happen? He laughs and tells me to get real?

"I need something that pays at least minimum wage, and most importantly does it under the table."

"I see." Jules tapped his fingers together thoughtfully. "All right, given that, and the fact you said you've been on the move, I surmise you're on the run. From the law, or a disenchanted ex, or some crook because you broke from his gang or saw something he wishes you hadn't?"

Eddie blew out a breath. "I wish I knew. Whoever it is has tried to kill me, several times. Not by shooting or trying to stab me or cut my throat, or anything else so direct. Everything he's tried, I'm presuming it's a man though I can't say for sure, anyway, everything he's tried was supposed to look like an accidental death." He didn't know why he trusted Jules enough to tell him, but he did, elaborating on everything that had happened.

"Damnation," Jules exclaimed a while later when Eddie had finished. "It's a wonder you're still around to talk about it."

"No shit! Dumb luck, I suppose, and the fact that for whatever reasons my adversary or harasser, as I think of him, doesn't want it to look like a murder. Perhaps he's afraid the police would figure out he did it; perhaps he doesn't want the 'publicity' my death could cause, hell, who knows. Not me for sure."

"All right, that makes some sort of sense. I presume at this point you are not 'you' anymore."

"Nope. I'm on my third or fourth incarnation, hell, I've lost count. Fourth, I think, with the ID to prove it this time."

"So you could use that to get a job."

"I'd rather not. If it were me looking for me, one of the first things I'd check would be tax records since I'd know what sort of work I usually did. You should know an employer has to file W4s and what have you when they hire someone."

"Too true, and W2s for income tax purposes at the end of the year. Thankfully I have an accountant to handle those. But that's neither here nor there. If you are essentially living off the grid, although not totally since you do rent somewhere to live, like the apartment you've got now, how is he finding you?"

"I don't know. So far, until I came here, I've always lived in places that don't require a credit card for payment or the number to keep on file in case I decide to run out on the rent."

"Then why change that now?"

Eddie shrugged. "New ID, for starters, which made me feel it would be safe. Besides, I'm tired of living in dumps, which most of them were other than the house in the mountains I told you about. I'd still be there if ..." He shook his head. "Anyway, I want to feel like part of the human race for as long as I can, before the bastard finds me again."

Jules moved over to put an arm around Eddie. "I wouldn't wish your life on anyone."

"Me, neither," Eddie replied dryly, liking his concern as well as the physical contact.

"If there were any way I could help, I would," Jules murmured, rubbing Eddie's thigh as if to emphasize his words.

"You already have. You've let me get it all out, which I haven't until now." He put his hand over Jules' to stop what he was doing. It was too sensual, whether Jules realized it or not, although Eddie had the distinct feeling he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Sharing a problem halves it, or so they say." Jules smiled, easing his hand from under Eddie's, which would have been fine if he hadn't moved it higher, sliding his fingers between Eddie's legs, stroking slowly.

Eddie sucked in a breath, trying to control his natural reaction to what was happening. "Are you trying ...?" He couldn't finish his question, uncertain how he would react no matter what Jules replied.

"To give you something else to think about? You bet." Jules moved his hand again, this time to cover Eddie's growing erection. "Is it working?"

"You have to ask?" Eddie looked at Jules crotch and saw he wasn't the only one affected by Jules' actions. "If we were anywhere but here I think I'd take you up on what you're offering."

"What's wrong with here?" Jules asked, standing suddenly. He strode over to the office door, locked it and came back to kneel in front of Eddie. "We're alone, we're horny, let's do something about it." He flipped open the fastening on Eddie's slacks, then pulled the zipper down. "Lift up a second." Eddie did and Jules eased his slacks and briefs down enough that his swollen cock sprang free. "Nice, very nice." He gripped it, pumping slowly.

 

 

The Artist and the Actor – 48

 

 

The following morning, as they were eating breakfast, Colin said, "I have a proposition for you."

 

Shane waggled his eyebrows. "The answer's 'yes'. I don't have to be at the theater until five."

 

"That's great, but I wasn't going to suggest we go back to bed. At least not this very moment." Colin paused to take a bite of his pancakes.

 

"You're going to leave me hanging until you finish eating?"

 

"Now that you mention it." Colin grinned before turning serious again. "You're going to need somewhere to stay other than the hotel, since you're sticking around."

 

Shane had the distinct feeling he knew where Colin was going with that, but decided to play it safe, just in case. "I know. Hopefully I can find a decent apartment that isn't halfway across town, and a cheap car. Taxi fares will break me."

 

"I'm sure the car won't be a problem. Check Craigslist for starters. As for an apartment…" Colin tapped his lip pensively. "I happen to know of someone who might be looking for a roommate, or more specifically, a housemate."

 

"Might be?" Shane asked, playing along now.

 

"Yes, if it's the right person. He's looking for a soon to be out-of-work actor, although he's certain the man won't have any problem finding a job with one of the local theaters, as good as he is."

 

"Well, damn. I know just the guy. He has a thing about artists, specifically one artist, and wouldn't mind at all sharing a house with him."

 

Colin grinned broadly. "So if I asked the actor to move in, he'd accept?"

 

"In a heartbeat," Shane replied adamantly. "Name the day."

 

"The sooner the better. How about this afternoon?"

 

"I think that can be arranged."

 

It was, with no problem, as all Shane had with him was, as he put it, "The clothes on my back and a few personal items." He did admit to having an apartment in a city several hundred miles from Denver. "But I sublet it, since I knew I'd be on the road for an extended period of time. There's not much there I want, other than my books and the rest of my clothes. I'm sure the woman will be happy to pack them up and send them out in exchange for my signing the lease over to her."

 

She was, and a week later several boxes were delivered to the house—after Shane had called his landlord about what he wanted, and then signed a contract the man emailed him.

 

As he unpacked his books and set them on one of the bookshelves in the living room, Colin came down from the studio. He smiled when he heard Shane humming. Something from a musical, he suspected, as he didn't recognize the song.

 

"You sound happy," Colin said.

 

"I am," Shane replied, stopping what he was doing to come over to him. "I have everything I dreamed about from the day we met." Putting his arms around Colin, he said, "This time it's going to work."

 

Colin nodded, replying softly. "It will. Nothing in life is more important than being there for the person you love. The one who loves you in return. We know that, now."

 

"And we'll never forget it." They kissed, tenderly, and then Shane returned to what he was doing—with Colin's willing assistance.

The End

The Artist and the Actor – 47

 

 

Shane nodded. "Sometimes they were. I could see it in some of the painting. The colors were as deep and rich, but the subject? Yeah, it expressed a love of life."

 

"Not as often as it should have," Colin replied with a grimace. "That being said, now, I'm…I'm happy, I guess you could say. Or at least hopeful. And it's your damned fault."

 

"Mine?"

 

"Yeah, yours. You came back. When you did, it made me look at what happened and realize, in spite of everything, that I still love you." Colin gripped Shane's arm. "Although I didn't want to accept it, even when I hated you, I never stopped loving you."

 

"It's a thin line, or so they say," Shane replied softly. "Perhaps, in some ways, I was in the same place, up here." He tapped his forehead. "Although it wasn't you I hated. It was my competition. There were times when I would willingly have destroyed your studio if it meant I'd have your complete and undivided attention. Insane, I know, but that was how it was." He sighed. "Instead, I destroyed what we had out of misplaced jealousy." Lifting Colin's hand from his arm, he held it tightly. "I promise with all that's in me I won't let that happen again."

 

Gazing into Shane's eyes, Colin said, "I swear, I won't give you a reason to." Ruefully, he added, "Of course you might have to drag me away, kicking and screaming, at times."

 

"No, I don't think that will happen. We want this to work. This will be a second chance at proving we love each other, and this time, damn it, we're going to do it right."

 

"We are," Colin replied emphatically before kissing him deeply.

 

Shane returned it as given, with love—and need. "When we finish—" He waved a hand at their partially eaten dinner once the kiss ended.

 

Colin nodded as he pushed back from the table and stood. "You know, suddenly I'm not in the least bit hungry. So, why wait?"

 

They didn't.

 

A long time later, having relearned all they needed to know about how well they meshed as physical as well as emotional lovers, Colin and Shane fell asleep in each others arms.

The Artist and the Actor – 46

     

Lifting his beer, Shane said, "To us."

 

"To us," Colin replied, tapping his bottle with Shane's. He smiled. "There is an 'us', now, I think."

 

"I damned well hope so," Shane retorted. He took a deep breath, and a deep drink. "If there isn't, I'm going to feel like an idiot."

 

Cocking his head, Colin asked, "Why?"

 

"The guy who's place I took in the show is back in dancing shape, or will be before we're supposed to move on to Duluth. The director asked if I'd be willing to let them break my contract for a large payoff." Gazing directly at Colin, Shane said, "I told him that would be fine, as long as I got a glowing recommendation to put on my résumé, too. After all, I have a good reason to stick around here." He took Colin's hands. "At least I'm pretty sure I do."

 

"If you mean me, you do." Leaning in, Colin kissed him gently before pulling back. "I want you in my life again. You know that."

 

"I've always wanted you in mine," Shane said softly. "I know you had your doubts at the end, but I did."

 

"I believe you. If you'd said that the night you showed up at the gallery, I'd have called you a liar. Now…yes, I do believe you."

 

"Finally." Shane cupped one hand behind Colin's head, drawing him close enough to kiss. Much to his relief, Colin returned it heartily and for a moment it deepened. Easing out of it, Shane gestured toward their meal. "We should probably eat before it gets cold."

 

"Good point. We can continue this later."

 

Shane's libido went into overdrive as he hoped Colin meant that the way it sounded. He quickly tamped it down, just in case he didn't. To that end, he asked as he began eating, "Will you let me see the new painting, or is it too soon?"

 

Colin waggled his hand. "It's only the basics. There's a lot more I have to do to it. And…" He hesitated. "It's different from anything you've seen, including Kenny's."

 

That piqued Shane's interest. "Why?"

 

"I think because things have changed in the last couple of weeks. For the last few years, even before…" He waved his hand as if to dismiss what he was about to say. "How I used to paint, the way I depicted the depth of a dreamer's emotions, was too often based on my own emotions, and they weren't always that cheerful, to put it mildly."