Late Bloomer, page 3
Erik flipped the visor down on his own helmet, a green monstrosity David was sure wasn’t from the Rochester barn. Erik must have brought it himself, which meant he had to have some sort of experience on motorcycles or ATVs. It also meant Erik wasn’t going to be able to jabber at him all the way back to the shop, which was a minor miracle.
David reluctantly eased forward into Erik’s space when the ATV started up, leaning in the direction they were moving to keep his balance. He refused to wrap his arms around Erik’s waist, instead holding the bars behind himself. It wasn’t the safest position, but David didn’t need to know what it would feel like to be plastered up against Erik’s back. He was having a hard enough time not letting Erik creep into his fantasies without that kind of knowledge.
The ride up to the shop was blissfully silent since the ATV was too noisy for Erik to talk over. It gave David a chance to marshal his thoughts and come up with a plan of action. He’d get through the next two hours by being his usual surly self and ignoring Erik.
Mel was waiting outside the shop when they pulled up.
“Cutting it a bit close.”
David could feel Erik tense at Mel’s rebuke. She was usually fairly easygoing, but when she was angry, her tongue was sharp and her memory long. Apparently Erik had already discovered that. David decided to give him an out.
“You can take the plants in,” he said, nodding toward the trailer. “There are some two-by-fours and cinder blocks out back. Use those to make a display for them. I’ll be there in a minute to show you how.”
Erik didn’t hesitate before hopping off the ATV. He loaded up on pots and darted inside the small shop. If they’d been in a cartoon, the rough-hewn shingle that hung over the door with the store’s name—Ye Olde Christmas Shoppe, something David had vehemently opposed—would have been swinging with the speed of his exit.
David smiled at the mental image but quickly turned it into a scowl when Mel followed his line of sight, smirking knowingly.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Or was that manufactured to get us alone? You’re so transparent.”
“It’s only ten minutes away. Besides, it’s worth being a few minutes late to watch you squirm.”
David wrinkled his nose. “I’m not squirming, I’m irritated. He talks too much, and he’s always moving.”
“That implies you’re always watching him, you know.”
She had him on that one, so David didn’t respond.
Mel looked at her watch and grimaced. “Shit. I do actually have to go. But don’t think we won’t be having a conversation about what’s going on between you and Erik.”
“Nothing is going on between me and Erik.”
“Exactly. That’s the problem. He’s been sending out obvious signals that he’s interested, David, and I know you. He’s exactly your type.”
Erik definitely was David’s type. That’s why he was doing his best to stay away from him. David had a history of being attracted to the type of guys who weren’t good for him.
“You’re never going to meet someone if you don’t date. It’s not like Rives Junction is a huge place, David. Erik is a catch.”
“I know he is.” Erik was a catch—that was part of the problem. Rives Junction wasn’t a big enough community to have a gay bar, but there were decent options in Lansing, which was relatively nearby. David didn’t go often, but he’d been enough to see Erik pick someone up on several different occasions.
Understanding lit Mel’s face, and she rested a hand lightly on David’s shoulder. “Just let yourself get to know him, okay? I don’t think he’s as much of a player as you think he is.”
David tried to shrug her hand off. “Go before I change my mind about manning the store.”
Mel rolled her eyes and let go of him in favor of digging her car keys out of her purse. “To be continued later.”
David ignored her and turned his back to the sound of her tires crunching on the gravel as she pulled out. He indulged himself in the quiet for a moment, spending some time studying the cedar shingles on the small building. They needed to be replaced, but it could probably wait until the spring. He’d been twelve the last time they’d done it, excited beyond measure to be up on the roof with his dad. It had been the first time he’d been given a job around the farm that could remotely be considered dangerous. David laughed softly as he took in the short one-story drop from the roof to the ground. He could probably sit on the edge now and ease himself down to the ground easily. It had looked a lot higher before he’d hit his growth spurt and cleared six feet.
He reached up and tapped the sign with its idiotic name, sending it swinging as he opened the door and walked inside. The bell jingled merrily, and David breathed in the familiar scents of cinnamon and freshly cut wood. As much as he hated manning the counter in the cottage, the storefront was as much a part of his Christmas traditions as the big tree they decorated with popcorn garlands and birdseed ornaments outside of his parents’ house on Christmas Day. It felt like home.
“I will do things to your chestnuts that make roasting them over an open fire look comfortable in comparison if I have to listen to that song again.”
Erik’s words startled a chuckle out of David. He took his time closing the door behind himself before turning to the shelving Erik was building, firmly schooling his expression back into disinterest. “Take it up with the management.”
“You are the management, dude.”
David leveled a long look at him. Erik seemed to wilt a bit under the force of his stare, and David cheered internally. The song faded, and silence filled the small shop for a moment before “Jingle Bell Rock” started. Erik scowled at the CD player nestled behind the counter like it had personally offended him.
“Mel’s call.”
“That’s a cop-out, man. You could have a lot more say around here if you wanted to.”
David’s playful frown turned into a real one. Erik was too observant. David knew he should step up and help Mel with more of the day-to-day management of the farm, but he just wasn’t interested in anything other than his plants.
“It’s not like I carry Christmas CDs around with me,” David said shortly, and he had to swallow back a grin when Erik’s face lit up at what he correctly assumed was David capitulating.
“Ah, but with the magic of the Internet and streaming radio—” Erik bit his lip in concentration as he messed with his phone. He ducked around the counter, and David leaned over, watching with amusement as Erik dug through the backpack he kept under it. Erik emerged with a set of portable speakers and plugged his phone into them with a triumphant head bob. “—we are freed from Mel’s sixteen-song Christmas mix from hell.”
Erik whirled around and turned off the CD player with a flourish, hitting play on his phone at the same time. Mariah Carey replaced Bobby Helms, and Erik flushed a bit when David quirked a brow at him.
“Pandora is fickle,” Erik said petulantly, fiddling with the phone until the song switched. “There’s still going to be some bad stuff mixed in, but at least we won’t be listening to the same songs over and over.”
David conceded the point, nodding in appreciation. Erik’s answering grin was almost painful to look at—it was clear David’s approval meant something to him, and David hated to think about why. Did Erik have so few people in his life that the approval of a surly boss at his part-time job meant so much?
“I’m guessing Mel will insist on her CD when she’s in here, but between you and me, even Mariah Carey’s caterwauling is better than listening to that shit of hers on repeat for an entire Christmas season.”
Erik beamed.
Chapter Three
A WEEK later, David was sweeping up pine needles when Erik burst into the shop, sending the door slamming against the wood-planked wall and startling the two elderly customers who were looking over the holly wreaths in the corner.
“Sorry! I just love my job so much I can’t help but start every shift with enthusiasm,” he told them, and David laughed and shook his head when the couple smiled forgivingly at Erik.
“He also loves sharing his employee discount,” David said, drawing a questioning look from Erik. “He’ll give you 20 percent off whichever wreath you choose when you check out.”
The couple had been coming as far back as David could remember working in the shop. He didn’t know their names, but their faces were as familiar as his own grandparents’. They obviously enjoyed browsing, usually spending at least an hour in the small store looking at the wreaths, pine boughs, and ornaments, but they always left with the smallest, cheapest wreath the store stocked. David figured it was all they could afford, and whenever he was the one there when they came, he gave them a discount or surreptitiously upgraded their wreath to a bigger one while he wrapped it up.
When they finally left, David was in the corner checking the poinsettias. They weren’t his favorite winter plant by a long shot, but David took pride in making sure the poinsettias Rochester Farms sold were the healthiest in Rives Junction.
“So we have an employee discount now? I don’t remember that being in the handbook.”
David didn’t turn around as he moved on to checking the soil on the next plant. “I don’t recall having a handbook.”
Erik snorted. “Really, what was that? Do you know them?”
“No.”
“But you just gave them a discount?”
David shrugged uncomfortably, finally angling his body from where he was crouched on the floor so he could see Erik. “They’re regulars.”
“So is the family with that psycho toddler who climbed a tree and got stuck last week, but you didn’t give them a discount, even after we had to call the fire department to get him down.”
That had been a disaster. And Erik was right, they were regulars too. The McCormicks had been buying their trees from Rochester Farms since the very first year the farm offered them. They also were one of the wealthiest families in town and didn’t need any handouts to be able to afford a decent Christmas.
“Just admit that you have a soft spot for old people.”
“I don’t have a soft spot for old people, Erik.”
“What, you expect me to believe you were moved by the Christmas spirit, then?”
“I don’t expect you to believe anything.” David hated the way Erik’s teasing words made him feel so defensive.
“Whoa, hold on. I’m not being serious, David.”
David focused on his task, moving swiftly through the rows of poinsettias. Mel had scheduled the two of them for the evening shift in the shop again, and this time he had no doubt about her intentions. She’d been perfectly clear that she thought he and Erik would be a good match, and apparently she was going to do everything she could to make them see it as well.
“David, look at me.”
David blew out a frustrated breath and sat back on his heels, meeting Erik’s gaze.
“You’re not the bastard you try to make yourself out to be. I was just kidding. You’re a nice guy, David Rochester, whether or not you think of yourself as one.”
David glowered at him. He’d always been the quiet Rochester sibling, and after his breakup with Kevin, he’d become even more withdrawn. His reputation as a gruff misanthrope was a good shield for him. No one tried to make conversation or fix him up on dates—aside from Mel, of course.
He didn’t like the way Erik was looking at him, like he could see through that facade. “No, I’m exactly what everyone says I am.”
Erik nodded, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yeah. You’re the guy who gives an old couple who can’t afford a real tree a discount on their wreath. You’re the guy who donates Christmas trees to the hospital every year and the guy who drops by the nursing home with potted plants for the patients’ rooms every spring.”
David took a breath, feeling tension coil in his shoulders. How did Erik know about that?
“My mom loves her oxalis, by the way. She doesn’t consistently remember people, but for some reason she still remembers everything she knew about plants. It was a good choice for her. She never went for the traditional ones.”
David cleared his throat. “I know. She used to get her plants here. Everyone else just wanted pansies and flowering bushes, but she always ignored those.”
He couldn’t quite decipher the look Erik gave him, but David shrugged it off. He didn’t deliver flowers to the nursing home because he wanted recognition, and he was frankly more than a little curious to find out how Erik knew they’d come from him. Knowing Erik and his chattiness, David figured the answer to the mystery was probably something inane like Erik jabbering at the nurse on duty until the poor person finally cracked and told him where the oxalis had come from. David didn’t put much effort into finding out what the patients preferred, but if he knew them personally, like Erik’s mom, he did what he could.
“Big plans tonight?”
David almost cringed as soon as the question was out of his mouth. He’d wanted to change the subject, but asking about Erik’s personal life had been the wrong choice. He grabbed a broom and started sweeping up the soil he’d displaced. It gave him a reason not to make eye contact.
“I thought I might hit a club or two. It’s my birthday, so it would be pretty sad to spend it home alone at Mrs. Johnson’s, wouldn’t it?”
David’s gaze flashed to the small desk calendar sitting on the counter.
“Your birthday is Friday the thirteenth?”
“My birthday is December thirteenth, yes, which occasionally falls on a Friday.”
David couldn’t help but laugh. “Suits you.”
“Shut up.” Erik picked up the dustpan in the corner and held it for David, the two of them working so effortlessly in sync that it made David’s skin prickle. It felt way too intimate. Domestic, almost. “Actually, I was born on a Friday.”
“So that cemented your future as a terror, then?”
Erik tsked. “I’d hardly say I was a terror.”
“Do you think I don’t remember you from high school, Erik? Because I do.”
That startled a laugh out of Erik. “We didn’t exactly run in the same crowd.”
“Yeah, I was a little too busy playing baseball and working here after school to have time to release crickets in the teacher’s lounge or spray paint bridge pylons.”
“Hey,” Erik said with mock affront. “Graffiti is badass!”
“They were smiley faces, Erik. That’s not graffiti.”
Erik couldn’t seem to form an answer to that and settled for sticking his tongue out as he emptied the dustpan into the trash, much to David’s amusement.
“They had profanity.”
“They said ‘have a nice day, bitch,’” David said dryly. “And you used an asterisk in place of the i. The town even left them up.”
“They made me paint over the last word.”
“I know. The most offensive part of the entire endeavor was the grotesquely out-of-proportion daisies you painted over it.”
Erik grinned. “I can’t believe you remember that. It was like half a lifetime ago.”
David had always noticed Erik; he’d just done it with mild annoyance until Erik started coming home on breaks during college. He’d somehow morphed from an awkward, gangly class clown into a self-assured, leanly muscled man. David wasn’t sure what changed after Erik moved to New York, but whatever it was, it agreed with him. By then, though, David was already in a long-term relationship with Kevin, and Erik seemed intent on sleeping his way through Lansing and all of its suburbs.
“So you’re what, twenty-nine?”
“Twenty-eight, thank you very much. Couldn’t you tell from my flawless complexion and girlish figure?”
“Don’t worry, you don’t look a day over twenty-seven,” David deadpanned, drawing a laugh from Erik. “I thought I remembered you being a freshman when I was a senior.”
“I was. I started school early because my mom couldn’t find a sitter who was willing to keep me for more than a few months at a time. I was kind of a handful.”
“Was?”
“Like you’re sunshine and unicorns over there, Rochester.” David quirked a brow at him, and Erik winked. “But yeah. I’d gone through like all the grannies in town who watched kids on the side, so Mom had me tested and put me in kindergarten a year early.”
“And so your career of academic crime was born?”
“I have it on good authority that I was a prince in kindergarten. First grade was when I discovered the seedy underside of elementary.”
“Precocious.”
“Adorable.”
David couldn’t disagree, but he managed to keep his response to that to himself. Erik was adorable, though, and the more David learned about him through their idle banter, the more he liked him. It was a problem.
“If you can help me do inventory on the new ornaments Mel just got in while I water the poinsettias, you can head off and start your evening of birthday debauchery early.”
Erik took the broom from David’s hands and stowed it in the small closet behind the counter. A moment later he’d shrugged out of his jacket and stashed it and his book bag out of sight as well.
“Aww, David. It’s like you care,” Erik said, making kissing noises that had David wrinkling his nose.
“The roads aren’t too bad, but they’ll be a little icy later tonight. I just thought you might want to get over to Lansing early.”
Erik stopped in his tracks, the big box of ornaments in his hands. “How do you know I’m going to Lansing? Maybe I’m staying here and going to the Grove. Maybe I’m going to Ann Arbor.”
David wished he could take his casual statement back, but he knew backtracking would make things worse.
“I’ve seen you at Red’s a few times. I figured it was a usual haunt for you. You looked like you knew all the bar staff.”
“Ouch, are you calling me a lush?”
David had never actually seen Erik drunk, though he usually had a drink in front of him when David saw him at Lansing’s most laid-back gay bar. For all David knew, Erik went to Red’s as infrequently as he did. Maybe they just had the fortune to be there on the same nights. Erik had been chatting amiably with the bartender and a bouncer the last time David had seen him there, but that didn’t mean anything. Erik had never met a stranger. He had a way about him that made everyone want to talk to him, even David.
