Maybe This Time Read online

  Maybe This Time

  By Shawn Lane

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2016 Shawn Lane

  ISBN 9781634861465

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  NOTE: This book was previously published by Amber Quill Press.

  * * * *

  Maybe This Time

  By Shawn Lane

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 1

  Winston Abernathy followed after his grandmother as she pushed her shopping cart up and down the grocery store aisles. So far she’d managed to load the cart with exactly four items. Milk, butter, ground chuck, and an apple. She’d crossed the store six times, often going down aisles she’d already been through once.

  “Gran, wouldn’t it be easier to have a list and just fill up your cart during one straight trip through the store?”

  She waved one frail hand. “This is the way I shop, dear.”

  Win sighed and stopped next to her cart when she paused in front of the cereal boxes. “I thought you were buying food for your get-together.”

  “I am, but I need a few other things, too. What do you suppose you’ll want to drink?”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Who all is coming again?”

  “My friend, Molly, and her gay grandson.”

  He straightened. “What? Wait.”

  She peered at him through her glasses. “Yes?”

  “You didn’t tell me he was gay.”

  “Didn’t I? Tsk tsk. Anyway, why should that matter? You’re gay yourself.”

  Win opened his mouth to argue, but shut it. He was. How could be deny it? He’d come out seven years before when he was eighteen and just out of high school.

  “All right, but, Gran, I don’t want you setting me up.”

  Gran snorted and reached for a box of crispy rice cereal and put it in her cart. “I’m not setting you up, Winnie.”

  He winced and quickly glanced around the aisle. “You aren’t supposed to call me that,” he whispered. “Not in public.”

  “Sorry, dear. I’ve been calling you that since you were a little boy.” She paused at the top of the aisle. “Drinks, dear.”

  “It’s just me, you, Molly, and this other guy?”

  “Yes. Molly says he just moved back here and doesn’t have a lot of friends. Lived in New York for a while. I thought with you both being gay you could help him get situated.”

  He frowned. “Situated?”

  She waved her hand again. “You know, introduce him around, help him to meet men.”

  “I’m not a dating service.”

  “I know that. But you know lots of men, I’m sure.”

  He didn’t. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he was something of a geek. Well, sort of. More of an introvert. Whatever.

  “What’s he like? Did Molly say?”

  “I thought you weren’t interested.”

  “I’m not. I just meant I’m trying to think what he might like to drink. If he’s the rugged sports loving type we should buy some beer. That kind of thing.”

  Gran started moving her cart again but in the opposite direction of the store’s liquor department. Gritting his teeth, Win traipsed after her.

  “What exactly are you making?” he asked.

  “I thought I might make shepherd’s pie, you know like my mother used to make.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I remember. You used to make it for us when we were kids.”

  She smiled and stopped in front of the cheese section. “Then Molly told me her grandson is a vegetarian.”

  “Oh.” Win grimaced. “That does sort of change things. Did she say if he’s a regular vegetarian or a vegan?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “He wouldn’t eat cheese or any dairy if he were vegan. They don’t consume any animal products.” Which, of course, Win thought was weird. He could never be a vegetarian. He loved his meat. And the double meaning on that made him laugh.

  “She didn’t say,” Gran said. “I thought I’d make cheese lasagna.”

  “Hmm. Maybe we should ask Molly.” He fished his cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans.

  “That’s a great idea, dear. Her number is 555-8392.”

  Win punched the number into his smart phone and waited through four rings before a soft-spoken feminine voice said, “Hello?”

  “Hi, Molly? This is Win, Emma’s grandson.”

  “Winnie? Hello. Is something wrong?”

  He rolled his eyes at the horrible nickname. “No, everything’s fine. Listen, we’re at the grocery store getting some stuff for tonight and wondered about a few things.”

  “Oh, yes?”

  “Gran says your grandson’s a vegetarian so we wonder if he’ll eat cheese. She’s thinking of making cheese lasagna. Will that be all right?”

  There was a slight pause. “He had pizza last night, so yes. But, well, he says it’s easier to say he’s a vegetarian, but he’s a pescetarian.”

  “A what?”

  “Someone who eats fish, but no other meat,” Molly explained.

  “Excellent. Thank you, Molly. One more thing, what does he like to drink?”

  “Oh. Well, he likes green tea.”

  Win frowned. “Tea? No wine or beer or anything like that?”

  “No, no. He’s very strict about that sort of thing. Well, you know he’s a dancer.”

  No, he didn’t, but he supposed that did explain a few things.

  “All right. Got it. Green tea it is. Thanks, Molly. See you tonight.”

  “Bye, Winnie.”

  He returned his phone to his pocket. “Lasagna it is. And let’s get a bottle of wine.”

  “You said green tea.”

  He nodded. “For him, yes. I need a drink.”

  * * * *

  Win had moved in with his grandmother just a month earlier. Since she had turned eighty, Gran had seemed frailer, and though her doctor said she was fine, Win decided she needed someone to stay with her. Of course, it had been no coincidence he had just broken up with his boyfriend of a year and needed a place to live. She’d been grateful for the company and so far everything had worked out pretty well.

  The doorbell to his Gran’s condo buzzed at six minutes after six o’clock that night. Win knew Molly lived in the same condo complex, just a few doors down.

  “I’ll get it, Gran.”

  Win had decided to dress in jeans and a
long sleeved red T-shirt. The shirt was one of his favorites and he thought he looked pretty good in red. Not that he was trying to look good or anything. He was not interested in Molly’s grandson.

  He opened the door and saw a petite elderly woman, somewhere around the same age as Gran, dressed in a bright purple flowered dress. She was alone.

  “Hi, Molly. Come in.”

  “My grandson’s coming along in a minute. Said he had to add some finishing touches.” She laughed as she stepped inside the condo.

  “Gran’s in the kitchen. Can I get you something to drink?”

  She eyed the glass of white wine he held. “What are you having?”

  “Chardonnay. Would you like some?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He followed her into the kitchen and she immediately went to Gran. The two started chattering while he took a wineglass out of the cabinet and filled it with wine.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing it to her.

  “Thanks, Winnie.” And then she continued gossiping with Gran.

  He really hoped the two old ladies wouldn’t refer to him as Winnie in front of Molly’s grandson.

  The doorbell buzzed again and Win went to let Molly’s grandson in.

  * * * *

  Randy Lincoln checked his appearance in his little pocket mirror one last time. He’d given himself smoky eyes with a little bit of eye shadow and liner, had applied a dusting of fuchsia blush, and smoothed just a touch of clear gloss over his lips. Makeup looked perfect, he decided.

  He shoved his little mirror into the back pocket of his skintight jeans when he heard the approach of footsteps. He had no idea what to expect of his grandmother’s friend’s gay grandson, but Randy had never been one to let opportunity pass him by.

  Randy hoped moving back to California would be a good thing. Ultimately, anyway. Trying to make it New York, on Broadway, hadn’t worked out the way he’d hoped. He’d gotten a few chorus line roles, but no leads. One of the other dancers had told him he needed to sleep with the directors if he wanted more important roles. He’d tried that and all it got him was a sore ass and a “call you in the morning.” That call had never come.

  The door handle turned and Randy held his breath.

  “Hi, come on—in.” The guy inside the condo stared at him, his mouth hanging open. “Oh my God, it’s you.”

  Chapter 2

  Randy stared at the guy holding the door open and tried to think of who he was. He admitted there was a vague familiarity there, mostly around the mouth.

  The guy, the grandson, Randy assumed, was kind of cute in a sort of reserved geek way. He had dark hair, cropped short so that his rather largish ears stuck out, a slightly crooked nose, probably broken one too many times, and full lips that turned up just a bit at the corners. The quirky lips were what seemed familiar to Randy.

  But really, he couldn’t exactly place this guy and he didn’t want to be rude and admit that.

  “It certainly is,” Randy said, putting on his most flirtatious smile. “And it’s you, too. How about letting me in?”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  He stood aside to let Randy in, so Randy slipped past him, making sure to rub against him along the way.

  “Small world, huh? How long has it been?”

  The guy narrowed his eyes—hazel, Randy noticed—and tilted his head to the side. “You don’t actually know who I am, do you?”

  Caught, unfortunately.

  “Well, I…No. Sorry.”

  The guy sighed and shook his head. “My name is Win.”

  “Win.”

  Win rolled his eyes. “Yeah. About three years ago we met at a bar. You were leaving the next day—”

  “And we fucked in the parking lot, and then went to your apartment and fucked again.” Randy nodded, the whole night coming back to him in a rush. It was the night before he’d flown to New York. He’d slipped out of bed in the hours before dawn without waking up the guy, Win, before he left.

  Win reddened. “Yes, that’s right.”

  Randy grinned and stepped closer, so close that Win was backed against the wall. “You wore glasses then.”

  “I wear contacts now.”

  “Nice. I like to see your eyes. You were really good with your…hands.” He dropped his gaze to Win’s big, long-fingered hands twisted in a grip in front of him. “And other parts, too.”

  “Ha, you didn’t even remember me.”

  “True,” Randy acknowledged. “But I definitely remember now. Those hands, those lips, that big beautiful cock pounding into me.”

  “Jesus!” Win shook his head. “Our grandmothers are in the kitchen.”

  He smiled. “All right, I’ll behave. For now. I was sorry I had to leave in the morning though. I really liked you.”

  Win straightened from the wall. “You mind giving me my personal space back?”

  “Sure, sure.” Randy did scoot back from him. The more he remembered about Win, and saw of him now, though, the more he liked. Living with his grandma might not be so bad after all.

  * * * *

  Win set a glass of iced green tea in front of the seat Randy had chosen at the dining table. The kitchen was an open-type kitchen with a breakfast bar between the dining room and kitchen area, so Win could see into the kitchen. At the moment, Randy was in there talking animatedly with both grandmothers while Win set the table.

  Damn it to hell, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from stealing glances at Randy. The flighty, hot, pretty twink was not his type. He hadn’t been Win’s type three years ago when they’d had their one-night stand. Win’s type was ordinary guys like himself. But three years ago he’d been slightly drunk and a little surprised the hottie in the shocking pink tank top had been interested in him.

  Trouble was, he wasn’t drunk now, despite a few sips of wine, and he still couldn’t keep his eyes off Randy. This time the man wore skin-tight jeans and a sunny yellow tank. His sandy brown hair had been highlighted and fixed in some obvious salon style and he wore what looked like large diamond studs in both ears. Win didn’t find makeup on guys that appealing. Except on Randy, for some reason, he did.

  Win had been half hard since he’d opened the door to the guy, and he only prayed Gran and Molly wouldn’t notice.

  Molly’s grandson being sinfully sexy had not been something Win had counted on, let alone that he would have been someone Win had previously had sex with. Really hot, mind-blowing sex. Up until Randy showed up on his doorstep, Win kept it as a memory of the greatest one-night stand ever.

  “Winnie, my grandson says you met before,” Molly called from the kitchen.

  Oh crap. Winnie.

  “Winnie?”

  He heard the amusement in Randy’s voice and wanted to crawl into a hole.

  “Hush, Molly, he doesn’t like to be called that,” Gran said. Too bad she sounded like she was hiding a laugh of her own.

  “I think it’s cute,” Randy said.

  “Right, cute.” Win came back into the kitchen to pick up the plates to continue setting the table.

  “Anyway, you know Randy?” Molly took a large sip of her wine.

  “Sort of. Not really. We, uh, met right before he left for New York.”

  Molly nodded. “Such a shame that didn’t work out, sweetie. But you’ll find something here.”

  Randy’s sigh was dramatic. “Yes, apparently I wasn’t the greatest dancer on earth like I thought I was.”

  “I think you are.” Molly patted his arm.

  He gave her a sweet smile that went straight to Win’s cock. Which had to be wrong. “Thanks, Grandma. It’s a tough thing to break into though. I guess I just don’t have what it takes.”

  “Maybe you need to try it for longer” Gran opened the oven and peeked inside.

  “I tried it for three years. It was getting tough to pay the bills.”

  Win took the plates to the table and spread them out in the four spots. “What will you do now?”

  Randy shrugged. “I d
unno. Teach dancing? Do some theater here. Try some of the shows in Vegas? I’m thinking about it.”

  “I’m sure it will work out, Randy. And you can stay with me as long as you need to,” Molly said.

  “You’re the best.” Randy walked over to the dining room table and picked up his green tea for a sip. “What about you, Win? What do you do?”

  This was the part where the eyes of hot guys usually glazed over. He’d been glad when three years ago his occupation hadn’t come up. Of course then he was only studying for it.

  “I’m a paralegal.”

  “Oh, well, that’s pretty cool.”

  Win figured that was the same as “Oh, how boring” for Randy, but let it pass. It wasn’t the worst job in the world, but he didn’t much like it himself either. Win never could figure out just what he wanted to be when he grew up. Being a paralegal was as good as any number of other office jobs and he got paid pretty well.

  “Dinner is ready,” Gran announced.

  * * * *

  “Win and I will do the dishes,” Randy spoke up as they finished the too yummy lasagna. He’d indulged himself with two large helpings, which meant, of course, he’d have to do an hour extra on his workout tomorrow. It had been worth it.

  Win smiled. “Absolutely.”

  Randy decided he liked Win’s crooked little smile with his upturned lips. He wanted to see it more often. Maybe Win was just nervous, though Randy didn’t know why, but Win seemed pretty serious. As he recalled from three years ago, he’d had to put the moves on Win. Probably would have to do the same thing this time. If he wanted to, that is.

  If Randy hooked up with Win now it would have to be more than a one-time thing. He didn’t want to cause trouble between his grandmother and Emma.

  “You two lovely ladies go on and sit in the living room and relax while we clean up.” Randy rose from the table. “You want us to make you some coffee?”

  Emma smiled gratefully. “That would be lovely. Thank you, dear.”

  He picked up several plates and headed into the kitchen, with Win following close behind him.

  “You have quite an armload there. You’ve worked in a restaurant.” He said it more as a statement than a question.