The Artist and the Actor – 31

 

 

Their waiter appeared at that moment, asking what they'd like to drink.

 

"Good question," Shane said. "Is the coffee strong?"

 

The waiter grinned. "It'll grow hair on your chest, if you don’t already have it."

 

"Well, now…"

 

As they continued bantering, Colin watched, wishing he had Shane's ability to chat up anyone he came in contact with. I'd have ordered the coffee, or another beer, and left it at that, the way I always do when I'm out.

 

He did request another beer, as did Shane, and told the waiter they'd order dinner when he returned.

 

"Stop that," Shane said as soon as the waiter left.

 

Puzzled, Colin said, "Stop what?"

 

"The whole time I was talking with him you were watching me like a hawk, like you were afraid I'd slip him my room key, or phone number, if you looked away."

 

"I wasn't!" Colin protested.

 

"No?" Shane shot him a look of disbelief. "I'm here with you because I want to be, Colin. I'm not interested in anyone else. I'm not looking for someone else." He took Colin's hand. "You're the only man who matters to me, whether you believe it or not."

 

"I want to," Colin replied, his gaze on Shane's face. What he read in Shane's expression—naked hope that Colin would trust him—had him saying, "I do believe you. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do." He gave Shane's hand a tight squeeze, and then smiled. "By the way, you misread what I was thinking."

 

"Oh? How?"

 

"I was wishing I was able to talk to people as easily as you. If I even think about doing it, I freeze up."

 

Shane nodded. "Because you're a loner. I get that. You need to relax. No one's going to bite your head off of you say more than two words. Hell, you do fine when you're talking to people at an opening at the gallery. I've seen you carry on real conversations with them."

 

"I guess, but that's business."

 

"So? It means you've got it in you. You need to…like I said, relax." Shane grinned. "Pretend you're me."

 

"Uh-huh. I'm not an actor."

 

"Everyone is, on some level. When you praise the paintings of an artist during his opening show at the gallery because you don't want to hurt his feelings, even though you think they're dreck, you're acting. When you tell one of the patrons you really like what she's wearing and she looks like she got the outfit from Ross or Target, you're acting. When you—"

 

Colin interrupted. "That's called lying, not acting."

 

Shane shook his head. "It's making someone feel special or important and convincing them it's the truth."

'Of a Harsh Winter' is out today!

 Of a Harsh Winter

Of Another World - Book 3

https://www.jms-books.com/edward-kendrick-c-224_229/of-a-harsh-winter-p-4002.html

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09GN5G4DW

 

GENRE: Gay Fantasy Erotic Romance
LENGTH: 29,026 words
RATING:

Qildor, a crossbreed shunned for not being fully elf or shifter, is resigned to his lonely existence high in Felhone's mountains. Then a harsh winter and the destruction of the oaks and his waterfall convince him he must warn King Cerdic that something is very wrong in the kingdom.

Pilore, a nature mage, believes him and with the help of Cerdic's husband Tony, and Alpha shifter Folen, they attempt to discover what or who is causing the problem. What Pilore learns leads him to believe that a powerful wizard is responsible, bent on bringing an end to life as they know it.

As they and others work to stop the wizard, Pilore does his best to convince Qildor to believe in himself and his worth. They form a bond based on mutual attraction, but will they be able to take it beyond that -- and will they even get the chance when they are forced to deal face-to-face with the wizard and his minions?

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

"The places are endless," Qildor murmured. "How will we find where he is in time to stop further damage to the kingdom?"

"With the help of all of Felhone's mages and the strongest of Folen's and Wulf's shifters," Pilore replied, having overheard him. He took the chair beside Qildor, laying his hand on his arm. "Do not give up hope, it will happen."

Qildor barely comprehended what he had said as his attention was immediately and solely focused on Pilore touching him ... again. Is that just his way when he is speaking to someone? He tried to remember seeing him do that with anyone else -- and couldn't. Perhaps he sees me as someone who needs reassurance that they are important. Important enough that he wants me to truly hear to his words and believe them. He might wish it was more than that, but he knew it was impossible.

"Where have you gone to in your thoughts?" Pilore asked with more than a trace of curiosity in his words. "Somewhere important, I would say since you have stopped paying attention to me."

"I have not!" Qildor protested a bit more vehemently than was necessary. "You said we will find the wizard, with everyone's help. I can only pray that is true."

"Please look at me, not my hand," Pilore said softly.

Qildor lifted his gaze, his amber eyes meeting Pilore's bright blue ones, and he saw something he had never seen before, a man who seemed to care about him despite what he was. Me. Not some ubiquitous person but me, Qildor the Crossbreed.

* * * *

"Good. Now as I was asking, what were you thinking?"

"I ... I cannot tell you ..." Qildor stuttered out.

"Then let me tell you. When I touched you, you began to wonder if there was an ulterior motive in my suggesting you come here to do your thinking. After all, I am certain Cerdic could have found you a quiet place in the castle, for instance his chambers." He traced a finger down to Qildor's hand, evoking a shiver from the younger man that made him smile. "I will admit there was, although you may not like it."

"Why?"

Pilore was well aware that he had to be quite careful with his reply. He knew some men would be offended by what he had to say. He thought Qildor might not be from small clues he'd picked up, but he could have been misreading them. They could have been the result of Qildor reacting to friendship, which he sorely lacked in his life. I will no know unless I say what is on my mind.

"I find you a very interesting man. Very different from others I know. You are not worldly-wise, which is unique within my circle of friends -- and I do consider you a friend although we have known each other for only a short time. I want to know you better in ..." He hesitated. "In every way possible. I will admit this surprises me. I am not like ... All right, you do not know what Leofric is like, or what he was like before he met Ylandar. Be that as it may, although we have the same tastes, as it were, I ... Damn it, how do I explain so you understand and will not take offense if you are not of like mind?"

Qildor's eyes widened in shock and Pilore was certain he was going to get up and leave a quickly as possible, and undoubtedly avoid any contact with him from now on unless it was absolutely necessary. In that, he was mistaken.

"You are like me, a lover of men, not women." Qildor smiled slowly. "At least I hope that is what you are trying to say."

Blowing out a long, if silent breath of relief, Pilore nodded. "That is precisely what I am saying. Not that it makes any difference if your feelings for me are purely those of a friend, if you even consider me as one."

"Of course I do. You and the others I have met. But with you I wished, I hoped ..." Qildor bit his lip then grabbed Pilore's hand. "I wanted you to like me for me and perhaps see me for who I am beyond my obvious differences."

Pilore resisted wincing at the strength of Qildor's grip, replying, "Differences that are not all that obvious, as you put it. If one did not know who you were, they would judge you by what they see, a rather shy, good-looking man who radiates a feeling of concern for others."

"I do?"

"Oh, yes, because you are concerned for other's welfare. If you were not, you would not have come here to let us know about the problems you saw that could be extremely harmful to Felhone."

"It could have been out of self-interest, because of my waterfall."

When Qildor started to move his hand, Pilore turned his to link their fingers together. "But it was not. You know this and so do I."

Looking at their hands, Qildor smiled shyly as he replied, "You are right, of course. I suspect you always are in most things."

"I wish, but no. I am, however, correct about two things. One, you are a gentle, compassionate man, most people's opinions to the contrary. Two, I would like to know you better and I believe you feel the same about me."

 

The Artist and the Actor – 30

 

 

By the time he managed to find a parking space in one of the public lots closer than ten blocks away, Colin was almost fifteen minutes late getting to the restaurant. He prayed, as he pulled the door open to enter, that Shane hadn't decided he was standing him up.

 

As it turned out, he was there first. Shane dashed in two minutes later, saying, "Sorry I'm late. I got talking with one of the girls from the show and then I had to shower and find something to wear and…" He lifted one shoulder. "Time got away from me."

 

"No problem. I just got here, myself," Colin replied before telling the hostess they needed a table for two. She said it would be at least fifteen minutes and suggested they could wait in the bar.

 

"You up for that?" Colin asked Shane, lifting an eyebrow in question.

 

"Why not. It's better than standing here twiddling our thumbs."

 

The bar was busy, but they still managed to snag two stools and order beers. As they drank, Colin watched Shane, who for the moment was watching the other customers. He fought a wave of jealousy when he realized it was mainly other men who caught his ex's attention.

 

Shane chuckled, pointing to one of them. "Definitely not an office worker who stopped by for a drink before going home."

 

Since the guy was wearing jeans, a T-shirt that proclaimed 'I visited Denver and survived', and sneakers, Colin had to agree. "Look around. Half the people here are tourists, I bet."

 

"No kidding. Them, them…" Shane gestured to the ones he meant. "Then there's her," he nodded to a woman at the other end of the bar. "She's waiting for her date, or husband, whichever, and she is not happy that he's late."

 

That was proven a minute later when a man hurried into the bar area. The woman saw him, waved, and when he joined her, began what, from Colin's abbreviated view of her face told him, was the rant to end all rants. It was obvious the man was trying to placate her. Colin and Shane didn't find out if he succeeded because the hostess came over to let them know their table was ready.

 

Once they were seated, she handed them menus and told them their waiter would be with them shortly.  

 

"What's good?" Shane asked as he perused the menu. "This place wasn't around when I lived here."

 

"Everything, from what I've heard. This is my first time, too."

 

"Maybe I'll stick with the tried-and-true and order the steak."

 

Colin chuckled. "Where's your adventurous spirit."

 

Snorting, Shane replied, "I eat out so much while we're on the road I lost it ages ago."

The Artist and the Actor – 29

 

  

"Damn, he called me, not vice versa," Shane said under his breath, unaware he wasn't alone in the hallway as he unlocked the door to his hotel room.

 

"The guy you told me about?" Olivia asked from behind him.

 

He turned, nodding. "I told you we planned on doing dinners a couple of times before the show closed and we moved on. Kind of getting reacquainted, as it were."

 

"I take it that it's a good sign he called."

 

"I hope so. I know he says he's over being mad at me, but…" He shrugged.

 

"You were afraid he'd change his mind since then."

 

"Yeah, big time."

 

"No one could stay mad at you for long, Shane." She patted his arm.

 

"He managed it for three years," Shane retorted. "He's only just… He said he's past that now—hating me. Still…"

 

"Don't over-analyze things. He called, meet him if that's what you're supposed to do, and do what comes naturally."

 

Shane snorted. "What comes naturally would be dragging him back here so we can screw. I don't think he'll go for that. Not yet, anyway, and maybe never."

 

"Think positive, and make sure you've got condoms, even if you have to stop to buy some."

 

"I always keep… Okay, you didn't need to know that."

 

She laughed. "You're a man, and an actor. I'm have the feeling you always keep one or two in your wallet for—" she made finger quotes, "—emergencies."

 

"And you don't?"

 

"Me?" She clasped her chest dramatically. "Never." Then she was laughing, again. "Okay, I'd better get moving, and so had you. I'll see you tomorrow."

 

The Artist and the Actor – 28

 

As Detective Randall had promised, a police security expert stopped by Colin's house twenty minutes after he got home. The officer checked the system and then called Randall, while Colin listened, to tell him that Colin had arrived home around ten Sunday evening.

 

"He armed the system, and it wasn't disarmed until just after noon on Monday. He says that's when he let a friend in. There's no way he could have tampered with the system to change the time-stamps."

 

Colin was relieved to hear him say that. Not that I've got a clue how to mess with it, but at least that leaves me in the clear for Logan's murder.

 

Once the man had left, Colin started up to his studio before deciding he really was not in the mood to paint—a rarity for him. "But after my meeting with the good detective," he grumbled. "Talk about a mood killer."

 

He'd missed lunch and was hungry, so he debated making something, nuking one of the frozen dinners in the freezer, or going out.

 

"Maybe Shane's finished with his rehearsal." He wasn't certain why he wanted to have his company for dinner, as they'd already planned on doing that on Saturday. Lonely? Need someone to talk to and he's available, maybe? Because I want to see him, in spite of everything that's happened in the past, and telling him about Randall gives me a good excuse? All of the above? He figured that was probably it. Taking out his phone, he brought up Shane's number and called. It went to voice mail, so he said, "If you get this in the next half-hour, call me."

 

With nothing to keep him busy at the moment, he picked up the paperback he'd been reading and settled on the sofa. He was deeply engrossed in it when his phone rang.  

 

"What's up?" Shane asked when Colin answered.

 

"Any chance you can get away for dinner?"

 

"It's not Saturday."

 

Colin's shoulders slumped. "I guess that answers that question."

 

"I was teasing," Shane replied. "You bet I can. Where?"

 

Colin named a downtown restaurant, Shane agreed to meet him there at five, and they hung up.