One Night

CHAPTER ONE

I sorted out your flights to LA.

Jeez, that had been one hell of a change of subject. One minute Micah was discussing buying more land for the vineyard, and the next, his sister hit him with flights from Rochester.

Why would you do that? I didn’t say I was definitely going, Micah responded quickly. Damn it, every year Abbey brought this up in front of witnesses. He never had a real chance to argue back. Alex, his brother-in-law, looked up at him from the piles of papers on the desk with an expression of sympathy, but didn’t join in to defend or to encourage. He clearly knew to stay out of things when his wife was set on something.

You say that, Abbey pressed, but when push comes to shove, you always end up getting on the flight, and then you have fun.

But I thought with Rosie having the baby and all… Doesn’t that put a different spin on it? The words tumbled out of him in a rush of defensiveness. He really thought this year, with his other sister just having gifted the family with a new baby girl and thus unable to work, he could get away with not going anywhere. There was so much to do here, grapes to grade, the new pages on the website to change…

Seven nights is all. You need to get away, take the vacation time, meet up with your friends, and network with the winey-type people.

You won’t be able— he started to protest, but Abbey held up her hand to stop him.

We’ll be fine. It’s all taken care of. We’ve discussed this already. Alex is taking a break and will be here every day working with Zach. She indicated her husband. Alex was still very quiet but lifted his hand and waved it in agreement.

We’ll talk about this later, Micah huffed. Surely, even though she said she had sorted out the flights, she couldn’t have booked everything yet, could she? She seemed to read his mind. Damn sibling connection.

Flights are booked—ROC to LAX with only one stopover. I booked you into the hotel where they are holding the conference. It’s right on the beach, and I got your room upgraded. It’s got a hot tub and shower with all kinds of fancy settings. Just what you need.

But—

All you need to find is a hot man when you’re there and you’ll be all set.

Abbey—

I’m not discussing this with you.

I’m a grown man. Alex, tell her. Micah pleaded for support, but if anything Alex slumped lower in his chair.

Yes you are. A grown man who needs a damn vacation, his sister said firmly.

Later as the evening was rolling in and smudging the sky with a purple-gray, Micah stood at the fence, looking out over his grapes, feeling blindsided and completely out-maneuvered. He sensed Alex walk up and stand next to him. Alex would have known what Abbey and Rosie were planning and even though Alex and Micah had been friends since grade school and so he should have had Micah’s back, he couldn’t be angry with the guy. Micah’s sisters were very persuasive.

The two men stood in companionable silence for a while until Alex cleared his throat. Micah could sense the other man grinning from where he stood. Micah’s week away was a standing joke and almost word for word he could guess exactly what his best friend was going to start in on. He wasn’t wrong.

So your gay ass is going to the beach for your annual tail-chasing trip. Same old, same old, every year.

Micah huffed. If you weren’t married to my sister, I would take you down right now. There wasn’t really a lot of heat in Micah’s tone; he was waiting for the rest of the same old joke Alex made every damn year.

Did you put lube and condoms on the house grocery list?

Fuck off, Alex.

It’s okay, buddy. Leave it to me and I’ll get Abbey to add them.

CHAPTER TWO

Your purchases, Mr. Wade.

Liam opened the door wider to allow the bellhop into his room, casting a critical eye over the collection of bags that were being given to him. He hadn’t bothered to pack much for his stay at the ocean. In fact, it was very rare he ever really packed to go anywhere. His credit card purchased most of the things he needed in one-stop shopping at hotel boutiques. This was killing two birds with one stone at its best—no outbound packing necessary and a near-empty suitcase to fill with a new season of clothes. He opened his wallet and pulled out a fifty-dollar tip, handing it to the young man who stood patiently at the door. Fifty was what he imagined was expected given he was in one of the few luxury suites in the hotel, the ones with five rooms and patio areas leading onto the beach.

There wasn’t really any way he was going to be recognized. He wasn’t known because of publicity or from appearing in tabloids and magazines. He was from old money, which followed him everywhere he went. Still, a week away from his family, with the plans he had in his head and the things he needed to do, meant he had to rely on the discretion of people around him, and that started here.

Liam tilted his head and read from the badge. Thank you, Oscar. He was rewarded with a genuine smile before the man slipped past him and left. He began to unpack his purchases, shaking out limited creases and hanging everything on hangers in the bathroom. He could get service to iron everything, but a quick run of the shower to get the steam in the room and everything should be good to go. His phone signaled an incoming call, and he smiled at the picture on the screen before answering it on the third ring.

Daddy, I gotta new doll. The voice of his three-year-old daughter held so much excitement, and he couldn’t lose the grin.

Did you, baby? Is it a pretty doll?

Uh huh. I called her Susie an’ she has a friend named Anna.

Two new dolls?

Two.

Are you being a good girl for your Nanna?

Yes, Daddy…bye.

Love you, pumpkin.

Lub you, Daddy. There was a pause then the sound of a phone being passed to another.

Liam?

Hi, Mom, is she being good for you?

She is an angel, darling. Are you having fun?

Not yet, Mom, only been in the room a while.

Your dad wants a word. Her voice sounded calm, but the word dad was enough to make Liam sigh semi-dramatically with his hand over the receiver.

Son?

Dad.

Did you get to look at the Ascot Hemling paperwork? Yep, straight in there with all the office shit. Great.

Briefly, Dad. On the plane for about ten minutes.

You do remember I’d like your thoughts on the proposals for the meeting on Monday.

I do, Dad.

Your mother says goodbye, son. Enjoy your break. The phone disconnected, and Liam felt like banging his head against a wall. Why was it with those three words, enjoy your break, Patrick Wade had managed to sour Liam’s mood? He was the patriarch of both the family and of Wade-Bellings, the second biggest firm of corporate attorneys in Seattle. Liam couldn’t avoid him, being the middle of three sons and a lawyer with the firm. One week. That is all he wanted, a week away from Seattle where everyone knew his family. Decompression, relaxation, taking photos, and forgetting who he was supposed to be.

He missed Emma as he would a limb, but he would be a better father for carving out some space to get his head straight. He had decisions to make, huge judgments on what he should be doing next, and those decisions would greatly impact his life and hers.

He needed time to be Liam, twenty-six and currently way back in the closet. Not engaged-to-a-women-daddy or responsible-son or model-employee. This week was all about him; it had to be. He was not going to turn twenty-seven and become married-Liam without deciding things about himself one way or the other.

His family and his fiancée didn’t understand. Leigh, usually the perfect, attentive fiancée, understanding that this was a marriage in name only, hadn’t been that focused lately, appearing reluctant to spend any alone time with him. What did he expect? Their engagement had been planned like military maneuvers by their respective parents. She didn’t love him and he didn’t love her, but it suited family and each other to tie the knot. Or at least it had sounded like a good idea when her father first approached his. Their joining was to be a marriage of convenience and he liked Leigh well enough. He just couldn’t ever learn to love her or bring himself to sleep with her. Lately she had been as happy as he to have time apart. He even suspected she had a lover, and good for her. If only it was as easy for a blue-blooded middle child of an old monied family to find a lover.

The avoidance was his fault. He was like ice when he was with her, always making excuses to avoid being alone with her, wanting alone time for moments when he could breathe. Like this week, this whole seven days on his own.

He didn’t expect his family to understand this week away, although Leigh had understood immediately. He had used the bachelor break with a college friend excuse, and thankfully, at least to his face, his mom and dad had bought the reason for the vacation. Especially with the wedding so close now, only six weeks in the future.

The wedding.

He sighed noisily and then cursed. It was getting too late to really pull off changing his mind. Marrying Leigh was all kinds of good, especially given that Emma needed a female influence in her life now that her mother was gone.

And it would make his parents happy.

Powering up his laptop, he opened his mail and gave it a cursory glance. There was nothing there that wasn’t automatically copied to his secretary and several other colleagues. He closed the email down before his nagging conscience decided he needed to open each and every mail and ensure it didn’t hold something important. Then he did what he really wanted to do.

Opening his pictures folder, he scrolled to the latest dates, connecting his Canon and downloading the newest batch of photos. They were simple shots from his departure at Seattle, his flight, and then his arrival at LAX. People, places, half-eaten dinners, flight plans, the sky, the well-worn carpet…anything that caught his eye. As he waited for them to download, he glanced out the window to the wide beach in front of him, which was his next subject. At midday the beach was full, each person out there basking in the heat of the sun, all golden, toned, and fit. His gaze moved from the view outside to his reflection in the mirror, and he idly noted his indoor-office pallor—pasty skin and tired eyes.

Photography on the beach,