Reconsider Me Read online

  His lips pressed together into a thin line. “No. We’re done.”

  “Ah. Sorry, sweetheart.”

  “Me, too.”

  Fen carried the basket inside, refusing his mom’s attempts to take it from him. He’d no sooner walked through the front door than he heard his older brother, George, call out.

  “Watch out!”

  Fen looked down just in time to get his legs tackled by a giggling, laughing toddler.

  “Fen!”

  “Hold on, Snoobug, let me go get this started, first.”

  His sister-in-law, Onna, walked into the foyer and scooped up the eighteen-month-old so the baby could give Fen a kiss on the cheek. He kissed her back, then her mom.

  “How you doin’, Fen?” Onna asked.

  He forced a smile. “Vertical.” His troubles were not their troubles, and he refused to burden them.

  In the garage, he started his first load of clothes before returning to the living room so he could grab Naris and spin her around the way he always did, the sound of her squeals of happy laughter always uplifting to his own soul.

  Then he settled her on his hip. “How’s my best girl?”

  She grabbed his chin and leaned in, sniffing. It always amused the family how she loved to sniff him, whatever current body wash or lotion he was using attracting her, usually something floral or fruity.

  “Fruit!”

  “Strawberries, but thanks for noticing, Snoobug.”

  Content to finally be in the arms of her favorite relative, she jammed a thumb into her mouth and leaned her head against his shoulder. Then he was finally able to give his brother a one-armed hug.

  “Tom?” George asked, eyebrow arched in a silent question.

  Fen shook his head, and conversation immediately headed elsewhere.

  They’d been through this before with Fen. They knew not to ask, not that he’d talk about it in front of the baby anyway.

  He preferred they didn’t ask, and loved them for their consideration throughout the years.

  As they moved to the dining room, Fen counted his blessings. With his family he’d hit the jackpot, no doubt. His parents and brother were accepting of him being gay, George’s wife, Onna, was accepting, and even her family really didn’t care, not that he had much contact with them as it was.

  Fenton knew he was an oopsie baby. His parents hadn’t been expecting him. At thirty-nine, George was thirteen years older than Fen, which was just enough of an age difference that they got along well, and George had always felt protective of Fen.

  When he came out in high school, Fen had been reasonably sure his parents would be okay, but he hadn’t been sure about George. His brother had been the polar opposite of him—big, beefy, broad-shouldered, and on the football team in high school. Fortunately, not only had George been fine with it, he made the standing offer to kick anyone’s ass Fen needed him to kick if they hassled Fen.

  Fen settled into a chair at the table, Naris in his lap as he got caught up talking with the couple. Last week, George and Onna had missed dinner because George had to go on a business trip, so they took a weekend together, leaving the baby with Fenton’s parents.

  They didn’t always get together on a Friday, but their dad’s work schedule the past couple of weeks had worked out that way. A detective with Sarasota County Sheriff’s Office, if he caught a case that kept him late, that had to come first, and they all knew that.

  He was planning on retiring next year. He was eligible for retirement three years ago, but couldn’t pry himself away from the job.

  “We going to talk or eat?” his mom teased as she sat.

  Fen stared at Naris. “You want to talk, or eat?”

  She grinned and blew him a raspberry, which he returned against her cheek, making her squeal with laughter.

  “Oh, can you babysit for us next Saturday?” Onna asked. “My sister scored free tickets to that gambling dinner cruise and asked if we want to go.”

  “Oooh, I get my girl all night?”

  “Well, if you want. We were going to pick her up a little after midnight.”

  “Nah, how about we meet you for brunch the next morning? What do you say, Snoobug? You want to spend the night at Uncle Fen’s?”

  She squealed with laughter and threw her hands in the air, narrowly missing knocking his glasses off in the process. “Unca Fen!”

  At least that was one Saturday night he knew he’d have plans. He probably wouldn’t be in the mood to go to Venture two Saturdays in a row, anyway. Either he’d get his ass beaten tomorrow night…or he wouldn’t.

  By the time they were finishing up with dinner, and Naris was falling asleep in her high chair—where Fen had finally convinced her to sit, between him and Onna—his dad returned home.

  George was obviously their father’s son. Glen White stood six three, broad-shouldered and beefy. Fen, on the other hand, looked a lot like their mother’s side of the family, slender and willowy, except he didn’t have their blue eyes. He had his father’s amber-brown eyes, while George had gotten their mother’s blue eyes.

  Onna got a sleepy Naris out of her high chair and took her out to the living room so the rest of them could sit there with their dad and talk.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said once he was seated at his usual place at the head of the table. “Caught a case. Convenience store robbery.”

  “I wish you’d retire now,” their mom said. “I don’t like you being out there.”

  “Not like I’m on patrol any longer.”

  “I don’t care. It’s still dangerous.”

  “I like what I do, honey. And I’ll get more from my pension if I wait. We talked about this.” His gaze fell on Fen. “No Tom?” He obviously wanted to change the topic of conversation.

  Wasn’t exactly the topic Fen wanted to switch to, though. Fen shook his head, then heard the buzzer go off on the washing machine. “Saved by the bell,” he muttered, getting up to go switch everything to the dryer and start another load.

  * * * *

  When it was just Fen and his mom in the kitchen later, him helping her with the last of the cleanup, she took another test bite out of the topic.

  “If you feel like talking, honey…”

  The ellipsis hung in the air like a cloud of air freshener spritzed in a bathroom with an out-of-order fart fan deep in the middle of triple bean burrito night.

  He forced a smile he knew wasn’t fooling her. “Not really. Same shit, different day. I’ll get over it.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.” He kissed her cheek. “But thanks.”

  He couldn’t get out of there until his clothes were done. Instead, once they’d finished the dishes, he headed out to the living room in hopes Naris had gotten her second wind.

  She lay sound asleep on a quilt on the living room floor, snoring like a hundred pound bulldog.

  “Wow. That’s…dainty.”

  Onna smiled. “I filmed her the other day and posted it on Facebook. Over a hundred shares already.”

  He pulled out his phone. “How’d I miss that?”

  “Maybe because you have a responsible day job and you do the adulting thing so well,” she teased. “You don’t spend all day on social media like some people do.”

  He quickly found the post, grinning as he played the video, then liking and sharing it himself.

  By the time he’d finished his laundry and headed home, he felt better, lighter. Spending time with his family always did that to him.

  Bonus—he’d get to babysit the Snoobug next Saturday.

  That was always a sure-fire way to make him smile. He loved being an uncle, loved taking care of her for them.

  Didn’t mean he wanted to be a parent, because he didn’t. The uncle gig, however, he was totally down for that.

  At least that part of his life wasn’t a complete meltdown.

  Chapter Five

  Saturday morning, Fen slept late, until after ten, and awoke to find he had a text
from Jake.

  Still coming tonight? Someone to introduce you to. Top. Nice guy. Vetted by F5. GWM 38.

  Fen took a deep breath and pondered that. The Frightful Five had a damned good track record so far. If nothing else, maybe he could at least get his ass tenderized.

  Yep. 8pm.

  By the time he’d hit the bathroom and then started a kettle of water boiling for his morning tea, he had a reply from Jake, a smiley face and a thumbs-up icon.

  I guess I’m busy tonight whether I like it or not.

  He wouldn’t back out now, not when Jake had gone out of his way to help Fen.

  Despite it being warm outside and having the AC running, Fen opened all the windows and turned on the ceiling fans to air out the apartment. Then he fired up essential oil diffusers in the kitchen, living room, and both bedrooms, with a citrus blend he adored that always cheered him up.

  Okay, me time. He grabbed his mat, blocks, and strap, and put on some soothing music, dabbed a couple of drops of lavender oil on the back of his neck, and spent an hour doing yoga in the living room.

  Ahh.

  That helped center him.

  Now feeling better emotionally, more grounded, he vacuumed and mopped all the floors.

  Once they’d dried, he shut the windows and bumped down the temp a little to make the air feel nice and crisp.

  He liked things the way he liked them. He wouldn’t apologize for that. His mom had once stopped by while he was in the middle of his Saturday routine and had tried to shut off the AC for him, claiming he was wasting electricity.

  It was his electricity to waste. He paid for it. And it was worth it to enjoy the fresh feeling this part of his weekly cleaning routine always gave him.

  It lifted his spirits even more.

  Coincidentally, it never failed that, for the next couple of days, he wouldn’t misplace or lose anything like he frequently did. So maybe if there were such things as spirits, they enjoyed the little weekly ritual, too. He kind of thought of the apartment as a her, even though he knew that didn’t make sense. It had a summery kind of feel to it.

  Like a July afternoon.

  He liked it there. He’d be sad when he eventually moved on to a larger place, or a house, but for now, he was content.

  Once he’d finished dusting and doing a few other chores, he made himself another mug of tea—mint, this time—and settled into a hot bubble bath to relax and read a real-life book. While he preferred to read most of his books on his Kindle Fire, he had a weak spot for manga, especially the BL genre—no shocker there—and those he preferred to read in the original paperback format.

  Plus, while he’d be sad if he dropped one of those in the tub, at least it wouldn’t fry it like it would his Fire.

  One of the great things about his job was that he didn’t have to bring it home with him. On the rare occasion he was running behind on a project, he could always work on a Saturday and take a different day off. Or if it was something different, an unusual project that had really grabbed his interest, something he was excited about working on, he might carry that over to personal time.

  But once he was done for the day, most days, he was done. Meaning his weekends were his.

  After his bath, he curled up on the couch with the TV tuned to Turner Classic Movies and set his phone alarm to wake him plenty early enough to get ready. He wanted to be well-rested for tonight.

  Hopefully, he’d go to sleep that night with a mighty sore ass.

  * * * *

  Saturday morning found Joel down in the bilge of the engine overhaul. They’d finally gotten the second engine out late yesterday afternoon, but with that done, they had to scrape years of gunk and old paint from the inside of the engine compartment so it could be inspected, cleaned, and repainted before they reinstalled the engines. He wasn’t even supposed to be working today, but he didn’t want to get behind on the project when there was so much riding on it.

  It wasn’t like he was struggling for a living, but it’d be nice to have his work acknowledged by someone and promoted throughout the upper echelon of Sarasota’s movers and shakers. Maybe then he’d be able to afford to buy a house. Right now, he’d focused more on building his business and putting money away for retirement.

  He was no dummy.

  He might not have a college education, but he’d soaked up everything he could from his vo-tech training and had done plenty of research on his own from when he started working on boats back in high school for a friend of his father.

  Plus they had the annual speedboat races here. Sarasota and the surrounding area had a thriving water recreation scene. It’d made it a no-brainer when he’d settled here after leaving Mobile. A quick perusal of online employment ads had led him to the first job he’d had there, then he’d quickly moved to buying the guy out after two years. The previous owner had been in his seventies and ready to retire.

  Joel had plenty of working years ahead of him, and the good news was not many guys could work on inboard engines and transmissions the way he could on some of these older boats. He’d handled plenty of them in Mobile over the years, pleasure craft and commercial fishing vessels.

  He had a good niche skill that overlapped well with the area’s needs, and the perfect market, too.

  Joel finally called it a day at three, wanting plenty of time to get home, clean up, and rest before tonight. He would approach tonight with zero expectations. It would make things far easier on him that way. Maybe meet a nice guy, hang out, talk, beat his ass, make a new friend.

  Cool.

  Except…nerves tried to set in. As he drove home, he struggled to clear his mind and just…breathe.

  They wouldn’t set him up with a lunatic. They were serious about their questions to him. If whoever they’d vetted to pair him with was vouched for by someone the Frightful Five trusted, chances were the guy had a decent track record of not being insane.

  Right?

  Right.

  He struggled after his shower to decide what to wear. Dress up a little and go with khakis and loafers? Look Dom-serious in jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a short-sleeved navy button-up?

  He couldn’t decide.

  Finally, he opted for the jeans. He didn’t want to dress up too much and feel out of place, and at the last event he’d attended at the Toucan, plenty of guys had worn jeans.

  After eating something, a short nap, and then getting dressed, he texted Keith that he was on his way to Venture. He knew where the place was, had driven past it on his way home from work yesterday. Nondescript, located in a commercial warehouse complex, nothing outside to indicate it was a BDSM club. No purple flashing neon or half-naked women on billboards.

  Discreet.

  Just the way he wanted his private life kept.

  He carried his toybag down to his car, for once not running into any of his neighbors to waylay him or ask uncomfortable questions about what he was carrying. When he arrived at Venture, he spotted Keith standing outside, talking to another man. Joel decided to leave his toybag in the trunk of his car for now, until he figured out if he even liked the guy or not.

  And he was kind of hoping this guy wasn’t the guy they were introducing him to, because while he wasn’t bad-looking, he also gave off a distinctly Dommy vibe.

  Then there was the matter of the wedding band on his left ring finger. Total non-starter.

  “Joel, this is Jake, a friend of mine. He works with the guy we’re introducing you to tonight.”

  Whew.

  Joel smiled, shaking with him. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I’ve known him a couple of years,” Jake said. “He texted me he’s on his way here now. I’ve seen him play before, here at the club and at private parties. Despite his outward appearance, he’s a pretty heavy masochist. Sweetheart of a guy.”

  “Forgive my skepticism, but why’s he single?”

  “Usually it’s him breaking up with a guy. Honestly? I haven’t pried. I get the feeling from some of what he’s said th
at it’s due to a hard limit being crossed. What that limit is, I don’t know. I have never played with my friend, so I’ve never stuck my nose in. I figured if he wanted to volunteer it, he would. But likewise, I’ve never heard any Tops, including his exes, say a bad word about him. If there’s drama, he’s damned good at keeping it hidden. And I asked around.”

  “That’s good to know. Don’t know if Keith told you, but I’m allergic to drama.”

  Jake smiled. “Join the club. Let’s get you inside and get your paperwork filled out so we can show you around.”

  The process was easy. They checked his driver’s license and ran his name through the USDOJ’s database of registered sex offenders. Then he filled out a form, handed over twenty-five dollars, and received a wristband. The woman running the counter, whose name badge read Jenny, playfully shooed him inside.

  “Go on. Jake and Keith will give you the newbie talk. I need to keep the line moving.”

  There were five people behind Joel, who’d come in while he was paying for his membership. Keith and Jake had stood there waiting, and he realized Keith wore a name badge on a lanyard, too. Jake wore a wristband.

  “I DM at least one night a month,” Keith explained as he led Joel inside. “They run an all-volunteer crew. Everyone started out as a member, so they have a vested interest in keeping it going.”

  The dungeon was, to Joel’s pleasant surprise, clean and spacious. Jake introduced Joel to his husband, Ben. Then Keith showed Joel around both sides of the space, Keith going over the rules as he did. By the time they returned to the tables in the social side, a guy was stepping in from the office.

  “There he is,” Jake said, peeling off to go greet him. After a quick hug, Jake led the man over.

  Calling him rail-thin was generous. Couldn’t be any taller than five nine, if that, at least six inches shorter than his own six three. Neatly styled brown hair, and young, although he looked older than a twink. Behind his wire-rimmed glasses, long lashes framed gorgeous, expressive brown eyes with what Joel suspected were flecks of amber in them, although in the dim light it was hard to tell. He wore khakis and a perfectly pressed button-up shirt. Joel got the impression that this wasn’t just a special night for him—he always dressed like this.