Chapter 7

Nick’s bedroom wasn’t in the main building, but in an annex behind the hotel, connected by a walkway and an open wooden staircase that acted as the fire escape, accessed from the second floor. The others had rooms in the main block.

“I guess Nick wanted a little privacy,” Mike commented as he closed the door. “Although I wouldn’t want to cross that walkway in a strong wind. I’d take off, and you’d probably find me in the ocean.”

Ashley sat on the bed, giving an experimental bounce. “So it’s Nick now?”

Mike smiled. “I think I’m a little old to be referring to him as uncle, don’t you?”

“You have a point.” She nodded toward the door. “And as for privacy, how do you know one of them wasn’t in here, supplying him with… warmth? Hey, maybe they all were.”

He opened his mouth to refute the idea, but then closed it.

I know nothing about his life here. She could be right.

He glanced at the room. It was a large space, with a king-size bed, two nightstands, a chest of drawers, a full-length free-standing mirror, and a wall of closets. On impulse, he opened one of the closets, to find clothing he recognized instantly. He smiled when he saw a long, thick trench coat hanging there.

That was all it took for the memories to come flooding back.

“One Christmas when I was little, Nick and I were out in the back yard, building a snowman. I complained of being cold, so Nick opened his coat, pulled me close, and wrapped it around me. When I was warm again, we carried on with our construction.”

Ashley got up from the bed and wandered over to the second closet. She opened it, stood there for a moment, then took a step back. “So tell me, Mike… When did Nick wear any of t hese ensembles?”

He peered around the door and his jaw dropped.

Hanging from the rails were dresses. Sparkly dresses, covered in sequins, with side splits, in red, blue, gold, and even rainbow hues. To the right were several racks containing brightly-colored high-heeled shoes, some of them as high as four or five inches. Above the racks was a single shelf, on which sat a mannequin head—

Wearing a wig of glossy blue and purple locks.

“I guess anyone would look fabulous in any one of those outfits.”

He jerked his head in her direction. “What are you suggesting? You don’t think these belonged to Nick?”

“Why not? What’s wrong with him doing drag?”

“He was sixty when he died,” Mike remonstrated.

“So?”

“What do you mean, so ?”

Ashley cocked her head. “If he did, that might answer one question.”

“And which one would that be?” Mike had a list.

She met his gaze. “What drove a wedge between him and your dad. Maybe having an older brother who wore dresses, heels, and a wig was something your dad couldn’t stomach.” Ashley bit her lip. “And maybe he didn’t want his brother giving you bad ideas. Leading you down the wrong path.”

Mike frowned. “But there’s nothing wrong with doing drag.”

“ You think that—maybe your dad doesn’t share the same opinion. You just don’t know what went on in his mind. Gay? That’s okay. Drag queen? Deviant. And the apple might not fall too far from the tree. Think about your initial reaction.” She closed the closet doors and looked around. “I wonder where he kept his makeup.”

Mike reopened them and stared at the rack of dresses. He sniffed. “That takes me back,” he muttered.

“What does?”

“I can smell butterscotch. It reminds me of Nick. He always had a bag of butterscotch candy on him every time he visited us when I was a kid.” He smiled. They were pleasant memories. Then he turned to see what Ashley was doing. She’d gone over to the drawers and opened the top one.

“I forgot how curious you are,” he observed. When she didn’t reply, he frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Not wrong,” she corrected. “I think I’ve discovered another of your uncle’s secrets, that’s all.” She reached into the drawer and removed a framed photo, then turned it around to show him.

Mike gazed at the photo. “Well, that’s Nick. As for who the other guy is, I have no idea.” He was younger than Nick, maybe in his thirties, with short, spiky hair and a kindly face. He sat in front of Nick, whose arms went around him, holding him close.

They meant something to each other.

He was glad Nick had found someone, even if it was a man who had to be half his age. Good for him.

Ashley set the photo frame on top of the chest of drawers, then removed another. “Oh my God. I know her.”

Mike moved closer to get a better look. The photo was Nick sitting in one of the armchairs in the lobby, and standing behind him, leaning on the chair wings was a drag queen, her pink hair arranged in flamboyant waves, a pink feather boa around her neck, and her hands encased in pale pink satin gloves.

“Who is she?”

Ashley gasped. “Didn’t you watch Hollywood Queen ?”

“And what’s that?”

“It’s that Drag Queen reality TV show. You know, the one shot in LA.” She pointed at the photo. “That’s Polly Amoray. She won it about three years ago, and now she’s making mega bucks over there.” Ashley frowned. “Well, she was. I haven’t read anything recent about her, now I come to think about it.”

Mike peered closer. “I could be imagining it, but do you think the guy in the photo with Nick, and Polly Amoray could be one and the same?”

Ashley stared at it for a moment. “Oh wow. I think you’re right.” She grinned. “Sneaky old Nick. I wish I’d met him.”

Mike was beginning to think he hadn’t known Nick at all.

“Come on, let’s get some sleep.” He stripped down to his shorts and then climbed into bed, snuggling down under the comforter. He’d left the space heater Sam had placed in the room on a low setting—the air in there had been frigid. Ashley wasn’t long in joining him, and as soon as she buried her nose under the covers, Mike switched off the lamp on the nightstand.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he muttered. “You’re going to have your own space.”

“And what does that mean?” she retorted.

He chuckled. “I’ve lived with you, remember? I know your little ways.”

She gasped. “Are you saying I’m a slob?”

“No, I’m not saying that, but compared to you, Oscar the Grouch was a neat freak.”

She let out another gasp, and suddenly cold fingers pinched his arm.

“Cut that out.”

“I will if you take it back. And if you don’t, the next pinch will be on your ass.”

The knock at the door made him jump. “Who can that be?”

Ashley snickered. “Well, it is Halloween. Maybe it’s the Bogeyman.”

He clambered out of bed and padded to the door. He opened it and peered out.

The light above the door illuminated Elliot, wearing a silken robe. Mike looked him up and down, and quickly realized something.

He’s naked under there. And hard. Oh fuck.

“Elliot.” The name came out as a croak, and he cleared his throat. “Is there a problem?”

Elliott smiled. “I thought you might like some company. My bedroom’s just across the way there.” His smile widened. “It’s a big bed too.”

Fuck.

Mike took a breath. “Thanks for the offer but… I’m about to go to sleep.”

“Oh, we can sleep—after.” His eyes gleamed in the light.

Mike stared at him. “Goodnight, Elliott.” And with that, he closed the door.

Ashley snapped on the light. “Did you just get lucky?”

“No. Go to sleep.”

She grinned. “Sounded like it to me. So what was he wearing?” Her eyes widened. “Ooh. Was he naked?”

Mike raised his eyes heavenward. “Are you kidding? It’s so cold out there, his dick would probably freeze and shatter like a popsicle.”

“If it’d been me, I wouldn’t have said no. When did you last get any action?”

“Excuse me? We are not having this conversation.”

“Why not? When was the last time you went out on a date?”

Mike snorted. “I hardly call what Elliott was suggesting a date.”

“No—it sounded way less messy. No dinner, no small talk, more an invitation to jump his bones. And they are such very pretty bones, aren’t they?”

“Sleep. Now. Before I make you drag your carcass to the front porch and leave you there.” He jumped as there was another knock on the door.

“He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

Mike glared at her before throwing back the comforter, climbing out of bed, and heading for the door.

Anthony stood there in nothing but a pair of sweats, sporting an obvious hard-on tenting the soft fabric.

Oh dear Lord. Is there something in the water around here?

Before Mike could tell him to go back to his own bed, Anthony placed his hands on the door frame and leaned in suggestively, so close that Mike could smell him.

Damn. He smells good.

“I thought you might like to come on over to my room for a massage,” Anthony said in a silky voice that was almost a purr. “Nick used to say my hands could work magic.” He grinned. “My mouth’s pretty good too.”

Okay, part of his anatomy reacted. Mike was only human after all. He did his best to regain some self-control.

“I’m sure it is, and don’t think I’m not flattered, but—”

“Hey, I can guarantee a happy ending,” Anthony added with a grin that would not quit. “Don’t they say an orgasm is the best thing to help you fall asleep?”

“They may say that, but not tonight.” Mike gave him a hard stare. “Goodnight, Anthony.” He closed the door and hurried over to the bed.

Ashley chuckled. “My, aren’t we popular?”

He waggled a finger at her. “This isn’t funny.”

“I beg to disagree. From where I’m sitting, it’s hilarious.” She grinned. “Hey, maybe I should sell tickets.” She made a show of studying him. “Then again, maybe not. Who’d pay to watch you play hide the salami?”

“Hide the—where do you get this stuff?”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “You think you’re the only gay man I know? And you have no idea what I read or watch when I’m in the sanctuary of my bedroom.”

He let out another snort. “Just because you have a Kindle doesn’t mean I’m not aware of your taste in books. The covers are a bit of a giveaway, y’know. Lots of bare chests, smoking hot glances to the camera, guys—”

“I think you nailed it with guys.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, I was mean. You’re not exactly Elephant Man when it comes to the looks department. In fact, I’d say you’re hot.” There was another knock at the door, and her eyes gleamed. “Looks like I’m not the only one who thinks so. Wanna place bets on which one of them is out there?” When he didn’t move, she gave him a push. “Well, go tell whoever it is to take a hike, or we’ll never get any sleep. Because at this rate, we’re gonna need a revolving door.”

Mike let out a low growl. “Not tonight, we’re not.” He returned to the door.

Jim was on the walkway, wearing the tight jeans he’d worn earlier. He’d stuffed his hands in his pockets, which only served to pull the denim tight across his—

Fuck, he’s huge.

That was one piece of information Mike wasn’t about to share with Ashley, not unless he wanted to be labeled a size queen.

Jim smiled. “Hey. In case you’re not ready to sleep just yet, my door is right through there. I’m sure I can think of a few ways to wear you out.” He gave the tiniest thrust of his hips. “And to sweeten the deal, maybe this is the point where I mention I’m vers.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“Thanks for the information, and I’m sure you’re… highly skilled, but I don’t think I need any sleep remedies tonight. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.” He shut the door with a little more force than he’d intended. Mike turned to find Ashley with her face buried in her pillow, her shoulders shaking, her laughter muffled.

“We are not going to discuss this ever again, do you hear me?”

Ashley was still shaking with laughter. “Oh, I think we are. I’ve never had this much ammunition. But what I want to know is, how are you going to look any of them in the eye tomorrow? Breakfast is gonna be awkward as hell.” Her eyes widened. “Do they even know they’ve all tried their hand? Well, not all of them, but as good as.” She snorted. “Okay, that trying their hand part put an image in my head, and I can’t unsee it.” When another knock came, Ashley groaned. “Is everyone around here horny tonight?”

Mike was done. He stormed over to the door and flung it open, not surprised to find Sam standing there. He didn’t wait to hear what Sam had to say for himself.

“And what are you offering? What’s your secret skill?”

Sam blinked. “I make good hot chocolate. I saw your light was still on, and I figured after the day you’d had, it might help you sleep.” He held out two cups. “Don’t forget to bring them down in the morning. Goodnight.” Then he turned and crossed the walkway, opened the door, and closed it behind him.

Mike retreated into the warmth of the room, carrying the cups. “A gift from Sam.”

Ashley sat up. “That was nice of him.” Her lips twitched. “Did it come with any offers attached?”

“Nope. Not a one.” Mike placed them on the nightstand.

“Gasp. At least one of them has some taste. Maybe Sam’s into older men.” She grinned. “Maybe he was into Nick.” Ashley chuckled as Mike went back to the door and locked it. “What are you afraid of? Being ravished in the night?”

“More like, waking to find one of them next to me.”

She sipped her chocolate. “Maybe I should have brought the rolling pin to bed with me.” She leaned back against the headboard. “Can we be serious for a moment?”

“Sure, if it stops you using me as a target for your sharp-as-fuck tongue.”

She stared at him. “Do you have any idea what you’re going to say to them in the morning? About the future of this place, I mean?”

“Not really. I’m hoping the night will bring inspiration.”

It had already brought one revelation.

Sam was a good guy. Not to mention awfully easy on the eye.

Stop that. He isn’t staying, remember?

For one moment there, Mike thought that was a real shame.