CHAPTER NINE Tate

The movers had just left, and I was busy assembling my new bed in the upstairs loft when the call box buzzed. Peering over the half-wall to the room below and toward the small video screen by the front door, I realized there was no way to answer the call from upstairs.

I dashed down the stairs, carefully, as I got used to their unusual design, and hurried to the small screen by the front door. I could see Alec and the city street behind him as he stood at the front entry. He hadn't said he was stopping by on our weekend off, so I was a bit surprised to see him.

"Alec," I spoke into the call box, his face now closer to the camera and as handsome as ever.

"Tate, my man," he said, grinning widely and holding up two coffees and a bag of something. "I came bearing coffee and bagels."

I pressed a button to allow him inside without comment. Quickly running back upstairs to put a shirt on and check my face, I was slightly irritated that he had stopped by uninvited. I cupped a hand to my mouth and checked my breath.

A knock at the front door caused me to check the mirror one final time. Why I cared how I looked was unknown, since I didn't see Alec the way I thought he saw me. The past three weeks at the office had been a revolving door of him coming and going from my office. He always had an important question or a topic he just had to share with me.

"Good morning," I greeted cheerily as I swung the door open.

"Too nice out on a three-day weekend for you to be inside here," he stated, hurrying by me as he made his way to the kitchen island. "Let's enjoy this quick breakfast and then take a drive in my new Tesla truck."

My eyes widened, completely forgetting his intrusion. "You have a Tesla truck?" I asked, practically wetting my pants. "But how? When? That's not possible," I blabbered. "Aren't they sold out for years?"

He tilted his head, giving me side-eye, as if to infer that I had underestimated his ability to pull any necessary strings he needed to get what he wanted. "Nothing is sold out if you want it bad enough," he declared. "Well, that and you have the financial means," he added.

"As much as I'd love to, I have to pass on driving around," I said, looking around the empty room. "I have to get some new furniture ordered for here and I have zero idea where to shop for it without heading all the way into Portland."

"What style are you visualizing?" he asked, scanning the large, open space.

"I'm thinking recycled wood with metal to match the history of this old building," I began. "A sort of sophisticated farm-house chic. You know the look, with large wooden pieces, and a distressed wear about the furniture. But I want an authentic local feel as well. Maybe an authentic craftsman sort of feel."

"Sounds like you want the Moonies' style," he stated. "Weird fucking folks, but their furniture is to die for."

"Moonies?" I asked, wondering if he'd insulted me or was being helpful.

"The cult out at Half Moon Ranch in Madras. They have a furniture store here in Bend."

"It's Memorial Day though," I said. "They'll be closed, don't you think?"

"The Moonies only close on Sundays, and they don't acknowledge our holidays," he stated. "Actually, they don't acknowledge reality to tell you the truth."

I suddenly remembered Luke saying he lived at Half Moon Ranch. "Do they like being called Moonies?" I asked. "Seems off-putting to me."

"I don't know what the fuck they like being called," he replied. "Don't care either, but they make good furniture at a decent price."

As usual, Alec was Mr. Sensitivity. However, I hated to admit that he was so damn good-looking it was hard to hold anything against him. I imagined many people overlooked his brash personality because of his incredible looks. Unfortunately, I think I was falling victim to his charms as well.

"I'll go on that ride if you show me where this furniture store is located."

"Done," he said. "And I'll do you one better. We can check out their stuff while we're there."

"I need a quick shower," I said.

"Want company?"

Alec was persistent with the not-so-subtle come-ons. He was stunning, and I was horny, so his request was hard to ignore. Usually, I wasn't drawn to a man with freckles on his face, but his gave a softness to his sharp edges that I found appealing. The freckles were a light dusting across his nose and with the black hair, he looked barely legal—another thing I'd just recently found out I liked.

Did this newfound desire for younger-looking men stem from me hitting my thirties, losing my twink card, and now possibly wanting a twink of my own? But then again, could Luke be considered a twink and be so big and muscular? Alec definitely wasn't a twink, but he could still pass for one.

I was thirty-two, but had, on two occasions, been drawn to youthful-appearing men, something I had never felt before. First was with Luke and now Alec. While Alec was actually a year older than me, Luke admitted to being only nineteen.

Both seemed out of the question for obvious reasons. One, Alec was my boss. Two, Luke was involved in a strange religion where I doubted the word gay was even discussed. But, if I had a choice, and there were no barriers, I was still obsessed with Luke and his innocent, yet sexual, energy.

Truthfully, Luke could only be considered a twink because of his age. His massive, muscular body and animalistic appeal gave off power-top vibes to me. The idea of him owning me with his commanding body made me weak-kneed, something I wasn't feeling about Alec. With Alec, I felt like I'd have to have the power-top vibe, something that held no appeal for me.

"I think I'm good on my own," I replied to Alec, answering his question about joining me in the shower.

"Just thought I'd ask," he said. "Seems my charm hasn't worked yet."

"Not yet," I responded, laughing his comment off.

"How about if I just watched?" he suggested, still pushing.

I waved him off. "Stop!" I insisted, keeping my voice lighthearted and friendly.

His interest in me was flattering for sure, but he was forcing me to walk a tightrope around him. He was my superior at my place of employment, and not just as my direct boss, either. He owned the law firm with his nearly retired father. Finding a way to appreciate his advances while stroking his ego—and keeping my job—was becoming an issue.

"I would've figured that, by now, you knew I'm used to getting what I want, Tate," he began. "To be honest, I don't take ‘no' all that well."

I wanted to laugh in response but got a strange feeling that he wasn't joking. Whatever friendly feeling I'd had about enjoying his company on my day off was souring in my mind. They were more than just souring; there were warning signals relaying messages to my brain to keep a professional distance.

"Well, I'm quite sure when you figure out how boring I am, you'll be glad we didn't mix business with pleasure."

Alec pulled out a barstool and sat down, appraising my body from across the room. I felt a bit spooked for just a moment. My feet felt ten times their normal weight as I was glued to my spot as he studied me.

"I highly doubt that someone like you could be boring," he stated, dragging his finger across the marble countertop of the island, still staring directly at my crotch. "Like I said the day we met, I have big plans for you and me, Tate."

I chuckled uncomfortably, the sound barely a whisper. I was unsure how to respond to something that seemed a bit off. "How about we start with a furniture hunt for today, boss?"

"See how easy that was?" he asked. "We're already starting."

He may have already started, but I was feeling creeped out.