Mummy Dearest: The XOXO Files, Book 1 Page 4

  I caught sight of Fraser in a pair of tight black Speedos. Ugh. Did he have a permit to carry that thing in public?

  And yet, weirdly, watching his glistening, square, compact body striding onto the diving board, I felt my own cock stir.

  What was up with that? Besides the obvious.

  Fraser strode to the end of the board, bounced once and dove. It was a perfect dive. Not graceful, but clean and efficient. Like a bullet hitting the water.

  He surfaced, swam to the side, hauled himself out of the pool. Water sparkled on his hair and skin. I absently reached down and gave myself a comforting squeeze—which nearly turned into the most embarrassing moment of my life when Fraser suddenly looked over at my window.

  Could he see me? The balcony of the room above my own threw my porch into shade. Hopefully the glass door was in deep shadow.

  Fraser raised his hand. “Hey, Doc! Come on out.”

  I fumbled with the latch and slid open the door. The hum and rattle of the pool pump and the smell of chlorine and Lycra wafted in.

  Fraser padded over to the short wooden fence separating my mini-patio from the pool yard. “I thought that was your car in the parking lot. Why don’t you come out and join us?” He smiled, his teeth very white in the gold frame of his beard.

  My throat tightened in unexpected response to his wet nakedness. Other things tightened too.

  What on earth…? It wasn’t as though I’d never seen a naked—nearly naked—man before. It wasn’t as though I was seventeen. It wasn’t even as though I liked Fraser. It wasn’t any of the above, and yet there was no question that my body was reacting like a damn divining rod.

  Karen and a couple of the others called out from the pool, echoing the invitation.

  I shook my head. “No swimsuit.”

  Fraser’s smile widened. “Wear your underwear. We won’t tell.”

  I laughed, shaking my head again. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  “You know what they say about all work and no play.”

  “No. What do they say?”

  “Ha. You’re a sarcastic shit.” He was smiling in approval.

  It was disconcerting how much I wanted to stand there shooting the breeze with him. If I’d had swim gear, I’d have been tempted to close my laptop and go out to play.

  As it was, I said, “It’s a life skill in my profession.” I nodded farewell and slid shut the door.

  Fraser returned to the pool and I went back to work. After a time I noticed the sounds from outside had died away. I looked out. The aqua water was choppy, the deck sloshed with wet, wet towels scattered on chairs and tables, but the pool and courtyard were now empty.

  I sat down at the desk again, typed a few uninspired lines, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I felt like the kid who had to practice piano while everyone else was outside playing softball.

  Time for a break.

  I tried Noah again at home, but there was still no answer. On an impulse, I called his office at the university, but there was no answer there either. I hadn’t really expected one. Noah couldn’t get away fast enough on Friday afternoons.

  Well, maybe he was shopping for groceries or running some errands. Not that Noah ran many errands. That was generally my job, but maybe something had come up. There was certainly no reason to feel anxious because Noah wasn’t sitting beside the phone, but I wished he wasn’t so resistant to using his cell phone.

  My stomach growled. It was after six now, and I’d never got around to eating lunch.

  I changed my shirt, combed my hair and went upstairs to the mezzanine bar. It was empty. Not really a surprise. It was Halloween, after all. Most people would have better things to do than hang out at a hotel bar.

  I ordered a cosmopolitan and tried it cautiously. Not the best I’d ever had, but not the worst. A little heavy on the triple sec.

  I sipped my drink and stared gloomily at the paper chains of black cats festooning the room.

  “Can I buy you another?”

  I glanced around. Fraser leaned against the bar. His wet hair was combed back. He was wearing black jeans and a white Henley. There was a faint gold bristle on his jaw. He was…sexy.

  Surprisingly sexy.

  He was still looking at me in inquiry. “Thanks. I’m good.”

  Fraser ordered a Jack Daniels and then pointed at my glass. The bartender nodded.

  I wasn’t sure if I was irritated or not. “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

  “You don’t get anywhere taking no for an answer.”

  I gave him a sideways look. He caught my eye. His smile turned sheepish. “I’m not such a bad guy, you know. Once you get to know me.”

  “Did I say a word?”

  “You think very loudly.”

  I laughed.

  The bartender slid our drinks in front of us. Fraser nudged me and nodded at one of the small tables by the fireplace.

  Well, why not? I really didn’t feel like sitting by myself in an empty bar.

  There was a stack of smiling resin jack-o’-lanterns on the raised hearth, and a couple of black rubber bats hanging from the mantelpiece. The gas fire crackled cheerfully.

  Fraser stretched his legs out and sat back in his chair so that he was practically reclining. He sipped his Jack Daniels.

  “Who’s watching the princess?” I asked.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Isn’t she supposed to walk tonight?”

  He sat up, instantly animated. “She is, yeah. We’ve got a video camera running in the exhibition room and I’ll check in on her in the early a.m.”

  “You didn’t want to post someone to personally watch over her?”

  “We don’t want to interfere with her.” He was serious, as far as I could tell.

  “Come on. You don’t really expect her to go trick or treating?”

  He smiled cheekily. “I like to keep an open mind.”

  “I bet. How much of that stuff do you really believe? Giant anacondas and alien abductions and abominable snowmen?” I took a cautious sip of my second drink. They made them strong in the mezzanine bar, and I don’t have a good head for alcohol. Plus I still hadn’t eaten anything since dried peanuts on the plane.

  Fraser said, “As a matter of fact, I think that there could be a certain amount of truth in all three of those claims.”

  I laughed. “Seriously?”

  He did look surprisingly serious. “You’re an academic. You know as well as me that there are a lot of places on this continent, let alone the entire planet, which are still unexplored. They discover new plant and animal species all the time.”

  “Not all the time.”

  “Often enough. The world is changing. It’s been changing since it started, if you want to get technical about it. Nothing stays the same, so maybe there were sea monsters once and maybe aliens did visit us and maybe some weird human-flesh-eating plant is mutating right now.”

  I didn’t think any of that was likely, especially the mutating carnivorous flowers, but it was obviously something he’d thought about. Thought about and believed.

  I turned my glass thoughtfully.

  “For the record, we’ve never done a show about giant anacondas or alien abductions or abominable snow persons. We focus on the little weird stuff. Local legends mostly. We try and get at the human story behind the legend.”

  “What’s the human story behind Princess Merneith?”

  “Little museum in the middle of nowhere struggling to stay afloat. That’s a story a lot of people can relate to right now.”

  “Sure, but what makes it special enough for a whole TV program?”

  “Twenty-two minutes of programming. Eight minutes of advertising.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I like underdog stories. And anything to do with Egypt is always hot. People love mummies and pyramids and curses.”

  I sighed.

  “Yeah, yeah. But you know what I mean. Anyway, it’s an interesting sto
ry how old Wallace Hiram purchased the mummy from tomb robbers and brought her back to the States.”

  Fair enough. It was interesting. To me anyway. Not particularly dramatic, I’d have thought, but I was no expert about what made for great television. Noah had very definite tastes when it came to the things we watched.

  “Where are you based out of?” I asked curiously.

  “L.A. Same as you.”

  “How do you know where I’m based out of?”

  “I Googled you when I went up to my room.”

  “Why?”

  His shy, self-conscious smile took me aback. It must have showed.

  “You’re gay, right?” he inquired.

  “Why would that matter?”

  “I get it wrong sometimes.”

  “Is there some reason you would need to get it right?”

  “God.” Fraser was admiring. “You’ve got that forbidding thing down cold. I can so picture you in front of a classroom scaring the shit out of kids.”

  “Gee, thanks. Fear. Not actually my first choice in teaching methods.”

  Fraser said knowingly, “I bet it’s your choice when you need it to be.”

  I ignored him, sipped my drink. I was getting to like that super-sweet tartness. You can develop a taste for anything, given time.

  “See, the reason I ask is I feel like there’s this…” he waggled his index finger between himself and me, “…connection.”

  “Between you and me?”

  He smiled. “So that’s why I’m asking. Because I occasionally—well, a lot of the time—get it wrong.”

  “Do tell.”

  He asked tentatively, “Are you seeing someone?”

  I was so flabbergasted it took me a couple of seconds to realize he really wanted an answer. “Yes,” I said firmly. “I am. I live with someone.”

  His face fell. “Oh.”

  “You’re propositioning me before you’re even sure I’m gay?”

  “Karen said you were.”

  “Karen said I was? How the hell would Karen know?”

  “She always falls for gay guys. It’s a knack. Actually, it’s more a superpower.”

  “I…” I rubbed my forehead. “Ai yi yi.” I looked up at him, shaking my head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes.”

  “To what?”

  “To dinner and…whatever.”

  “No. Sorry. No.”

  He appeared even more disappointed. Was he having me on? I wasn’t totally sure. “Have you been with this guy a long time?”

  “Two years.”

  “And you’re exclusive?”

  I nodded, and as I nodded I felt the strangest sense of something almost like…regret. It shocked me. What the hell was going on in my brain that I was even considering…and I wasn’t. I was not considering that. I didn’t even like Fraser Fortune.

  At least…I hadn’t liked him at first. He did sort of grow on you after a while. Like the cosmopolitans. Or maybe because of the cosmopolitans. Either way…it wasn’t like that. Not in a way worth endangering what I had with Noah. Nothing was worth that.

  “Just my luck,” Fraser said. He finished his Jack Daniels. “Oh well. Can I buy you dinner, anyway?”

  “That’s very nice of you, but I…don’t think it would be a good idea.”

  He brightened. “Really? Why?”

  Good question. Why? Honesty compelled me. “I just…I think my boyfriend might not like it.” I could never quite think of Noah as my boyfriend, but lover sounded too…

  “See, there is a connection. You feel it too.”

  I frowned. “How do you work that out?”

  “You think you’ll be tempted if we go out to dinner together.”

  I said dampeningly, “Tempted to do what? Have dessert?”

  Fraser looked straight into my eyes and said in a low, husky voice that actually made my body hair prickle, “Tempted to let me make love to you.”

  I laughed, but my mouth was so dry all at once that it came out strangled. “Love.”

  “Okay, beautiful, passionate, mind-blowing sex that feels so good you’ll be begging me to never stop.”

  It was, quite simply, the silliest thing I’d heard in my life. And yet, just like that, my cock was stiffer than the top of a pyramid, hard and aching. I licked my lips. Looked at my drink and decided finishing it would be a very bad idea.

  “Uh… Well, then it’s a good thing I’m saying no, right?” I stood up. It wasn’t easy—for a number of reasons.

  Fraser stood up too, which made my need to get away and back to my own room all the more urgent. “At least let me buy you another drink.”

  “Thanks. No. I’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”

  Not that early, but I did need to get away from him before I did something really, incredibly, out-of-characterly stupid. The weird thing was, he couldn’t have been more different from my tall, handsome, sophisticated Noah who was, in every way, my dream man.

  “Thank you for the drink,” I said. “And for earlier today at the museum.” I offered my hand.

  He took it in his square, blunt-fingered one—and didn’t let go. He didn’t say anything either. All the more surprising since he had such a knack of saying the wrong thing—which would have helped at that moment.

  “Night.” I gave my hand a little tug.

  “Goodbye.” He reluctantly let go.

  Goodbye. As I turned away, I realized that it was probably the last time I would ever see Fraser Fortune.

  Chapter Four

  I needed to talk to Noah. I punched the house number into my cell phone as soon as I stepped into the elevator.

  No answer. Again no answer.

  I began to get irritated. Where was he? Noah had said he was going to spend the evening at home. That had been part of his annoyance with my taking this weekend to go out of town: that instead of going to any of the parties we’d been invited to, he’d be stuck at home.

  I hesitated and then I tried his cell phone. The odds of it being switched on were slim. Noah disliked using his cell for anything but emergencies. This wasn’t an emergency exactly, but I was a little worried about him. Things did happen. Even to men like Noah—a man most “things” would hesitate to fuck with.

  To my astonishment, his cell rang. Once. Twice. He picked up the call and then there was the usual signature fumbling while Noah figured out how to hold his phone properly. While he juggled, I could hear background noise: music, clinking plates, and someone—not Noah—laughing.

  “Noah here.” His voice filled my ear, loud and disconcertingly cheerful.

  “Hi. It’s me.”

  “Me who?”

  Forget cheerful, Noah sounded ever so slightly sloshed.

  This was weird. Neither Noah nor I drank much. Me, because I couldn’t handle my booze very well; Noah, because he didn’t like to relinquish control. Ever.

  “Noah, it’s me. Drew.”

  “Drew?” His voice sharpened. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. That is, I called the house and you didn’t answer. I wondered where you were.”

  Just a fraction of a hesitation. “I decided to go out.”

  “Oh. I— You didn’t mention you were going out earlier.” No reason Noah shouldn’t go out. No reason for that sinking in my gut, but the feeling was there all the same.

  “I didn’t plan on it,” he returned, elaborately casual, “but as I was leaving my office I ran into Lionel and he invited me over for dinner.”

  “Lionel?”

  “Hold on.” I heard Noah say something to someone else—Lionel, evidently—and then more phone fumbling. I guessed he was in motion, walking to the next room. A few seconds later his voice came back on without any background noise. “Still there?”

  “Of course.”

  The good humor was still in effect, but it sounded a little forced now. “Lionel’s my oldest friend and a colleague. There’s no reason we shouldn’t have dinner together once in
a while.”

  “He’s your ex.”

  Noah swore, but it was smothered. When he spoke again, I could hear the effort he was making to remain patient. “Yes, he’s my ex. You and I are together now, Drew, and you have got to get over this ridiculous insecurity about Lionel.”

  “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to be a little…surprised to find you having dinner with Lionel when this morning you were telling me how disappointed you were to have to spend the evening at home.”

  “And you rightly pointed out that there was no need for me to spend the evening at home.”

  “And you pointed out that you felt weird going on your own to parties that we’d been invited to together.”

  “I’m not at a party.”

  “No, you’re with Lionel, which is worse. I didn’t have a problem with you going to a party.”

  “Drew! This is ridiculous. You and I have dined with Lionel on several occasions.”

  “Together.”

  “You can’t honestly imagine that Lionel and I would…that I would be unfaithful to you.” He made a sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh, but it didn’t come off.

  “Of course not. It’s not a matter of your being unfaithful. It’s a matter of loyalty.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” Now Noah sounded truly pissed off. “Loyalty? You’re questioning my loyalty?”

  Heat flooded my face as though he stood with me in the slow-moving elevator. I persisted stubbornly, “You said that Lionel was one of the people suggesting that the only reason I was being considered for tenure was our relationship.”

  “What the hell does that have to do with anything? He’s certainly not the only faculty member who’s noticed we live together. Naturally it will be commented on. Naturally some people will assume your relationship with me is behind your successful career.”

  As little as I wanted to hear the answer, I made myself ask, “Is my relationship with you the reason I’m being considered for tenure?”

  “Of course not!”

  The fact that he sounded genuinely outraged at the idea eased some of the pain coiling through me, but not the worst of it. “But you’re not at all offended that your oldest friend has suggested that it is?”