6. Spice

SIX

SPICE

Whenever I go somewhere, I like to bring a variety of clothes, usually a little more than I expect to wear. I want to have options because sometimes I crave baggy pieces that help me feel snug, and sometimes I need the fabrics to hug my body tightly. The clothes I had given Jack were the loosest and biggest I had, and yet the sweatpants looked like a skinny fit on him, while the shirt was so short that the hem didn’t quite reach the waistband of the bottoms. As a result, he exposed his waist whenever he moved: when he walked down the stairs in front of me, when he bent down to pet Maggie, and when he stood up again to make his way to the kitchen. Whenever his skin showed, my attention was drawn to it, as if his groin and my eyes were two magnets attracting each other.

He didn’t seem to notice how this made my heart pump like crazy, and my dick react in a way that was all too obvious in the tight jogging pants I’d put on ten minutes ago. The heat spread from my groin all over my body, which would have been a warm welcome after everything if the sweatpants he was wearing hadn’t revealed that he wasn’t reacting the way I was.

So, I excused myself and went to the guest bathroom. I needed to calm down at least a little. When I closed the door behind me, my dick was throbbing, and my heart was pounding harder than when we were out in the storm. If I had wanted to, I could have sprayed my cum all over the bathroom floor in seconds. But this wasn’t the time to hide in the bathroom and masturbate. If anything, this was the time to get back out there and take advantage of the opportunity we had been given.

I stepped to the sink and put my hand on the faucet but stopped when I saw myself in the mirror. I was not a pretty sight. My skin was as red as if I had stayed in the sauna too long, which was ridiculous since I had just come in from the cold. I had deep circles under my eyes as if I hadn’t slept in ages. At least the well-fitting black joggers and my favorite brown hoodie, which proclaimed “Love is love” in bold letters, made me look somewhat respectable. Nevertheless, I got undressed again. I needed to freshen up.

After washing my face, torso, and crotch (I didn’t want to be too optimistic, but you never know) and applying some lotion, I still looked red but much more alive. I ran my fingers through my hair to get it in place. It was as good as it was going to get, but at least I felt more like myself again.

I went back out and found Jack sitting on the floor with Maggie cuddled up on his lap.

Jack smiled at me, and if my face wasn’t already red, my blush would have been very visible. “She’s so warm. Want to take my place while I freshen up, too?”

The image of taking Maggie’s place instead popped into my head, but it was quickly erased when Jack’s stomach rumbled so loudly that even Maggie looked up.

He wiped his hand over his forehead. “Sorry.”

“Cuddling will have to wait, then. I have to make lunch instead.” I walked past him to the refrigerator, turned on the under-cabinet lights that bathed the kitchen in a warm yellow glow and opened the fridge.

“But take it easy,” Jack said. “It doesn’t have to be fancy.”

“Any allergies or things you don’t like?”

“I’ll eat anything.”

“Dog biscuits it is.”

“You’ll laugh, but I’ve tried them, and they’re not as bad as you think!” He tapped Maggie on the shoulder. “Sorry, girl, I have to go to the bathroom.”

She raised her head for a second but decided that was nonsense and put it back on his knee.

Jack sighed. “How many times do we have to talk about this?” He tried to slide his palms underneath her to get her to stand up, but Maggie didn’t move a muscle. “Come on, girl.”

“There’s one way to get her to stand up,” I said, walking to the sink. Before I could even put my hand on the child lock on her favorite cabinet, I heard her paws clink on the laminate floor. “That always works, huh?” I said to Maggie, turning my head further to grin at Jack.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile and made his way to the bathroom.

Not wanting to get on Maggie’s bad side, I gave her one of the dog treats before I rummaged through the fridge and pantry. With everything I found, I decided to make a pumpkin soup—not a perfect Christmas meal, but something that would keep us warm.

When Jack returned ten minutes later, he looked fresh, with his hair combed back. He offered to help, but I told him to sit at the table and relax. I was almost done anyway. He followed my every move, just like Maggie did yesterday, which I enjoyed more than I probably should have. The Labrador energy he was radiating was right up my alley. Maggie crawled between his legs. She didn’t bother begging to be petted because Jack was already doing it.

“How come we haven’t seen each other at Penn State anymore?” I asked as I roasted the chopped butternut in the pot.

“Just life and the usual complications,” he said.

That didn’t answer my question. But maybe I shouldn’t have asked in the first place, just like he didn’t interrogate me when we met yesterday. From what I could gather, he probably dropped out of college for some reason. He wasn’t a veterinarian, after all. I knew about the complications he was talking about. It’s not like I followed through with my plan to use that degree, either.

I let out an understanding sigh. “Life is an asshole sometimes, isn’t it?”

The pot sizzled as I filled it with hot water. When the pumpkin was covered entirely, I put the lid on and turned up the heat. “It should be done in about twenty minutes.” I filled two teapots I had prepared with the rest of the hot water and brought them to the table. Jack thanked me with a nod of recognition as I sat down at the other side of the table.

“Tell me, Jack. How is it that someone who seems to have the whole town on his side is alone at Christmas?”

“Are you asking me if I have a boyfriend?”

That was exactly what I was asking. I brought the cup of tea to my mouth and hid behind it. “Sorry for being so nosy.”

Jack leaned back in his seat and accidentally brushed his feet over mine as he stretched them out. “Sorry,” he said, pulling them back. His fingers fumbled for his tea. “There are only three other gay guys in this town that I know of. Two of them are in their mid-thirties, a couple, my best friends, and crazy as hell. The third is twenty-three and more like a brother to me.” He pressed his lips together. “So, no, I don’t have a boyfriend.” He brought the tea to his lips but paused for a moment with a grin. “Your turn.”

“There is no one. All I had was vet school and my internships. I worked twenty-six-seven.”

“There are only twenty-four hours in a day.”

“Exactly. That left little time for anything.”

The lid of the pot behind me rattled as it was lifted by the cooking water. I jumped out of my seat. As I removed the lid, steam shot up, and I pulled my head back to avoid burning my face. The orange butternut cubes twirled in the bubbling water. “Nice,” I said to myself, picked up a spoon I had parked on the wooden cutting board to my right, and stirred.

Jack took a deep breath. “Smells good.”

“Let’s hope for the best. With my food, there’s always a fifty-fifty chance it’s either tasty or trying to kill you.”

A laugh cackled through the kitchen. “If you want revenge for our trip through the snow, you could have just kicked me out of the house. That would have been a lot less trouble.”

“The chances of you surviving your way home were way too high,” I got in on the joke, turning to face him. “Poisoning people is much more effective, believe me.”

“But then you had a body to dispose of.”

“There’s a backyard and a lot of snow that will stay up for months.”

“But they would find me eventually.”

“I’d be out of the country by then.”

“Hm.” He pushed his lower lip in front of his upper. “Maggie would rat you out. She’s known me longer than you have.”

“Damn. I forgot about Maggie.”

“You’d have to get rid of her, too, but we both know you can’t hurt a dog.”

“Especially not a lady like her.”

Maggie poked her head out from under the table, trying to figure out why we were using her name so much. I crouched down to see that Jack was still scrubbing behind her right ear. I sneaked up to her, put both hands on her chest, and as we petted her simultaneously, she seemed to drift off to petting heaven.

“What a life, huh, Maggie?” I let my hands slide from her chest to her cheeks. “Two men taking care of you at the same time?”

“She’s not picky. Cuddles are welcome from anyone, anytime.”

“Who knows if she would treat me the same if she knew I was a vet ?”

She blinked when she heard that little word, but the overwhelming feeling of four hands was too distracting.

“So you graduated?” Jack asked, not knowing that his question would make my shoulders so heavy that I could barely hold them up.

I let go of Maggie even though I didn’t want to and went back to the bubbling pot to stir it again.

“Last year. I also completed a residency program four months ago.” I wasn’t proud of my degree anymore. It was just a piece of paper. I even stopped looking for a job in the profession. Every time I talked to someone about it, they couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to do it anymore.

“Congratulations,” Jack said.

And here we go. I was seconds away from being asked what I was doing here instead of working as a veterinarian.

“That’s an impressive accomplishment,” Jack added. He let go of Maggie and took a sip of his tea.

Why didn’t he ask?

It caught me off guard more than I thought it would.

Did I mind? Did I want him to ask? Or was it a nice Christmas present not to be bothered by him as well? After all, I had come to Seastone to get away from everything.

“Thank you,” I replied, scratching my neck.

I dipped the spoon into the broth to taste what I was cooking. It was salty enough but... bland. Something was missing, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“It’s a good thing you tried it first,” Jack laughed. “Now I know it’s not poisoned.”

“The only death we will die while eating it will be from boredom.”

“Not good?”

“If you like raw tofu or overcooked noodles with no sauce, this will be your favorite.”

Jack jumped up, followed by Maggie’s disappointed eyes, and walked over to me. “Can I try?”

I handed him the spoon. “Be my guest.”

He dug deep into the pot, brought the steaming spoon to his mouth, and blew gently on it before tasting. The way his lips closed around the spoon was far more arousing than I would have liked. He licked his lips, his eyes narrowing as he searched for an answer. His head shook slightly but then changed to a nod as he turned and walked to the pantry.

The clattering announced that even though he seemed quite familiar with everything in this house, he was still a guest. “Yes!” His cheer floated into the kitchen. He returned with a small glass in his hand and held it up. “I knew they must have some curry paste.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Mrs. McCormac made a curry for the Thanksgiving potluck,” he explained as if he thought I would think he was a creep for knowing all about it.

In fact, I was more concerned about his suggestion. “Are you sure you want to put curry paste in pumpkin soup?”

“You pick up a few tricks when you hang out with old ladies as much as I do.” He held the glass in front of me. “You trust me?”

I stepped aside to give him room to work while still being close enough to see what he was doing. “Go ahead.”

He added a teaspoon of the orange paste to the pot and stirred it in. “Let it sit for a minute, then try again.” He turned to go back to the table.

“Oh no, you try it first,” I said with a grin, stopping him in his tracks. “How else will I know you haven’t poisoned it?”

“Why do we keep talking about poisoning each other?” He came back and leaned against the counter. “You know I don’t want to poison you, right?” His eyes were between the pot and me as if he didn’t dare look me in the eye.

“Same. Sorry. I have a weird sense of humor I can’t turn off.”

“No, don’t get me wrong. I like it. You had it back then, too. Every time I asked if I could look at your notes, you had a snarky comment ready.”

“Did I? Like what?”

He blushed. “I don’t know. I can’t remember every line. But it was always something like, ‘ Can’t you ask a boy to dinner first? ’ Or something like that.” He shook his head sheepishly. “It doesn’t sound so funny when I say it. You had to be there.”

“Judging by your story, I was.”

He looked at me, blinking hard. His mouth opened for a moment, closed, then opened again. “Can I confess something?”

“Is it that you would have asked me to dinner if my jokes hadn’t intimidated you?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, now supporting himself with both hands. His shoulders rounded forward, shortening his neck.

Damn. Seeing him so shy made me want to get closer to him even more. “Well, we’re going to have dinner in a few minutes,” I replied. “Better late than never, right?”

His lips curled up and looked too inviting not to stare at them.

“I know this is going to sound strange,” I continued, “but I’m glad you didn’t ask me back then. I probably would’ve turned you down anyway. And if not, I would have ruined the evening by only talking about classes. The two guys I dated in college made sure to let me know how annoying that was when they broke up with me.” Why did I tell him that? “Anyway, do you want to have dinner with me now?”

“I do, but...” The corners of Jack’s mouth turned up more. “... you dated two guys at the same time in college?”

The smug smile on his face as he teased me made me nudge his shoulder. “Yeah, and a clown, a drag queen, and Bigfoot. All at the same time.”

“Wow, you were busy. Good thing I waited then, huh?”

We stared at each other like fools for another second before he pushed himself off the counter and held his nose over the pot. “Let’s see if you like what I did to your soup.” He filled the spoon and blew on it, but instead of tasting it himself, he held it up to me, his other hand underneath to catch any drops that might fall.

I blew on it again and let him put it in my mouth. My tongue was greeted with a much more colorful and slightly spicy dish that tasted a thousand times better than what I could’ve achieved on my own.

“Do you like it?”

“Which old lady do we have to thank for this trick?”

“Mrs. Candice.”

“Seems like she has a knack for spicing things up.”

We both laughed. Hard. It was relaxing. What a way to spend Christmas Eve.