Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Tennessee

I didn’t truly expect Tate to wait for me. Sure, he had messaged several cheery updates while we were in separate exam rooms. And we’d passed in the hall on the way to radiology with our respective attendants. But somehow, I expected him to have better things to do than follow through on the ride home and the help he’d offered. However, there he was, waiting on a bench near the main lobby when I finally emerged.

As I approached Tate, I held my arm up. I had an ugly black cast with Velcro straps stabilizing my wrist, the same as him. “We match.”

“We do.” He held his own cast aloft. “Hairline fracture of the radius.”

“Buckle fracture.” I made a face. “I have to see an orthopedist next week for a consult.”

“I know a good one.” He smiled broadly at me. “Mine should be fine in six weeks, but six long weeks of light duty, damn it.”

“Poor baby. Less work and taking it easy sounds miserable for a go-getter like you.” I smiled back. Despite all the years that had passed, he was still delightfully Tate. “The doctor said my cast should take six weeks as well. Maybe we can meet up again for a cast-off celebration?”

I hoped that sounded friendly and not suspiciously date-like. We might be old friends and both queer, but that didn’t mean anything.

Tate snorted. “Ha. You’re kidding yourself if you think I’m letting six weeks go before I see you again.”

“I guess we do have some catching up to do,” I said slowly. I wasn’t entirely sure how to take his enthusiastically possessive reply.

“And it sounds like you might need help feeding Clifford.” Standing, he pointed in the direction of the signs leading to the parking garage.

“You remembered my cat’s name?” I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. Tate had always had a good memory. “And I really can get a ride back to my place. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble.” He continued his confident march to the parking facility, leading me to a bright-orange midsize truck.

“And you’re okay driving one-handed?”

“Of course.” He gave me a withering look as he used his left hand to dig out his key fob. “My truck is automatic, so hopefully, shifting won’t be a hassle. Hurt a bit driving back from the mountain, but I managed. And I better figure it out because no way am I going six weeks without driving.”

“I might,” I admitted. I’d almost volunteered to help shift, but that sounded way too suggestive even in my brain. “I suck at anything left-handed.”

“Is that so?” Tate sounded more than a little flirty, but then he shivered and tugged his ski jacket closer. Maybe he was simply cold. Or something. People didn’t usually get flirty with me, hence looking on the Heart2Heart app for my soulmate. Before I could figure out Tate’s intent, he unlocked the truck. “Come on, get in.”

“This is definitely your vehicle.” I laughed as I glanced around. Of the two of us, I’d always been the neater one, using order in my room and belongings to mask the chaos of my home life. Tate, like his siblings, had done his share of chores, but his room had been comfortably messy. Likewise, his truck wasn’t filthy, but it featured a dog seat harness and open gym bag in the backseat, several hoodies next to the bag, and a few assorted energy drink cans on the floor.

“Yup.” Wincing slightly, Tate put the truck in gear. “Now, where to?”

“525-A Prospect Place. It’s downtown in an older home converted into a three-plex.” I reached for Tate’s navigation screen, but he waved my hand away.

“I know exactly where it is.” Tate was nothing if not confident, and I was rapidly discovering that I really liked seeing his tween cockiness translated into adult swagger. “I love that little street and all the historic homes.” He paused to wait for the gate to lift to let us out of the parking structure. “One of our senior paramedics lives on Prospect as well. That’s part of why we’re short-staffed right now. He’s on leave while his doctor husband battles cancer. It’s not looking good.”

“That’s terrible.” My stomach twisted. Hearing such grim news made my own search for a soulmate seem trivial.

“Yeah.” Tate nodded as we headed away from the hospital and toward the Mount Hope historic downtown. “My mom’s sent food a couple of times. I’d like to send them my famous brownies, but my studio apartment’s oven is teeny and unreliable.”

“I have a pretty big kitchen.” I tried to sound all casual and not like I was busy dreaming up more excuses to see Tate. “My unit is downstairs and includes the original living and kitchen area, so it’s pretty spacious. And if you’re going to help me with Clifford, the least I can offer is a loan of my oven sometime.”

“Nice.” We stopped for a red light, and he beamed at me as he flipped his turn signal. “Would you mind if we swung by my place first so I could grab Mouse?”

“Your dog?” I bit my lip. I wasn’t opposed to the request, but I was a bit confused. “You can just drop?—”

“And let Clifford or you starve?” Tate scoffed, shaking his head. “Hardly. I want to help. I really do, but I don’t want to leave Mouse alone too long either.”

“Well, all right then.” I’d forgotten how easy it was to let Tate have his way. We might have been known as the TNT duo, but all our adventures had been Tate-initiated with me happily along for the ride.

“My studio is between here and your apartment anyway. My brother—you remember little Ricky—let the dog out a couple of hours ago, but it’s been a long day for my baby.”

“For all of us.” I agreed as Tate pulled into a newer apartment complex on the eastern edge of downtown. After parking, he was as fast as promised, darting into the building to return moments later with a small terrier with gray wiry hair, wide expressive eyes, and pointed ears tucked under one arm.

“Meet Mouse.” Tate buckled her into the dog seat harness, which let Mouse safely look out the window. Mouse didn’t bark at me, but she did give me a heck of a scowl, which made her look even more like her rodent namesake. “Hope she doesn’t upset your cat, but I can keep her on her harness.”

“Awww. She’s cute.” I smiled at the dog, who seemed in no hurry to warm up to me. “Clifford likes dogs, generally. He’s pretty fearless.”

“Mouse is not very brave, but she’s too standoffish and nervous to give chase to a cat. She’ll likely give Clifford a wide berth.”

“It’ll be fun to see how they both react,” I said as we continued our journey to Prospect Place, a treelined street a few hilly blocks beyond downtown. When I’d last lived in Mount Hope, I couldn’t fathom residing in this neighborhood of well-maintained, larger older homes, many of which had been turned into multi-dwelling units for young professionals eager to be within walking distance of the vibrant downtown coffee shops, eateries, and brew pubs. As a kid, the rural outskirts of town seemed the best I could do. When I found the listing for this apartment, I jumped at the chance to further distance myself from the past.

“Park in the back.” I directed Tate to the spot next to my small compact. The carousel and skating rink were close enough to my place that I’d opted for a chilly stroll downtown rather than trying to find parking for my date with Gunter.

I waited for Tate to unclip Mouse and place her on a hot-pink harness before I led the way to my apartment. The stately late-Victorian-era home had a single entrance. Once inside, the grand staircase led to the two smaller upper units while my apartment occupied the whole lower floor.

“This is a nice place.” Tate looked around my spacious living room, which featured a non-working brick fireplace, numerous built-ins, and hardwood floors. Beyond, a short hallway led to the bathroom and bedroom while the nearby dining room flowed into a remodeled version of the original kitchen. “Wow. You almost never see actual dining rooms in apartments.” He whistled low, continuing to glance around. I’d positioned my gray fabric couch near the bay window with the TV and my Swedish-style recliner opposite. My too-small table and chair set occupied the large dining room. I didn’t own much stuff, but what I did have was neatly arranged. “You’ve already unpacked?”

“Boxes make me nervous,” I admitted. Not only did I have issues with clutter and mess after living with my parents, but boxes meant moving and instability. “I never sleep well until I’m fully unpacked.”

“I can see that.” Tate set Mouse on the floor right as Clifford ambled into the room, yawning and stretching like he’d left a prime napping spot on my bed.

“And here’s Clifford.” As I’d predicted, the large orange cat wasn’t in the least bit intimidated. He went right up to Mouse and gave her behind a generous sniff, which made the dog jump and Tate burst out laughing.

“Okay, you were right. He does think he’s a dog.” He kept chuckling as Clifford circled Mouse, who attempted to retreat behind Tate’s muscular leg. Finding the dog less than amenable to his overtures, Clifford stalked to the couch and flopped onto the cushions. Tate turned back toward me. “Food for the cat or food for the humans first?”

“Not sure what I have in the way of human dinner food. I need a big grocery run to stock my new kitchen here.”

“I can help with that,” Mr. Confident bragged. “I know a dude with a truck. And I’m on dinner as well. You still eat meat?” As soon as I nodded, Tate clicked around on his phone. “Tacos will be here in twenty minutes.”

“How is it possible you’ve become even bossier?” My tone was more awestruck than complaining, and Tate simply grinned wider.

“Maybe I’m simply that awesome.”

Not sure what to do in the face of all Tate’s sunny energy, I went to sit next to Clifford on the couch and bent to untie my shoelaces, only to wince as I tried to use my right fingers. The black cast further restricted my range of motion, and I made a frustrated noise.

“Here, let me help.” Tate knelt in front of me, far more agile with his cast, and before I could protest, he’d removed both my shoes.

“Thanks,” I whispered. I had no idea why I’d lowered my voice, only that the moment suddenly seemed big and important. Our gazes met. Held. I inhaled sharply. Tate on his knees on the rug in front of me was pure fantasy material, but it was his expression, joyous and sentimental at once, that made my heart tug with longing.

“There.” He set my shoes aside before removing his own and hefting himself beside me on the couch. “Together again. TNT. What sort of trouble do you want to get into first?”

I gulped. Was he flirting, or was he simply being Tate? I hated that I couldn’t tell, but as in the past, I was more than ready to follow him into whatever adventures he dreamed up.