The Men of Marionville Series

As the reigning stud of the local gay club scene, every guy in the county knows Travis Templeton, and vies for his attention. Travis wears his crown lightly, careful not to break any hearts. He knows what it's like to really love someone who doesn't love you back-at least, not in the way you want. - Heath Kelley made the biggest mistake of his life the night before his best friend Travis left for college. One small action snowballed into years of silent misunderstanding and empty distance. When Heath accepts a transfer that sends him to his hometown, he doesn't know Travis has moved back home, too. It doesn't take long for the men to reconnect. - Admitting they never stopped thinking of each other as "best friends" is easy. Forgiveness of past sins is easy, but confessing their secrets comes harder. When Heath discovers the truth about Travis' private life, the newly repaired bonds of friendship are stretched taut. It's time for Travis to choose – the love of his best friend, or a life of settling for having only second best. * * * The ghost of his lips slid coolly over mine like they had so many times over the years, a phantom whisper that raised gooseflesh on the back of my thighs and buttocks. Travis fixed me with a stare far colder than my memories. His angry, hurt voice froze my insides. "You had what I wanted, Heath. You were normal. You dated girls. You fucked girls." He sucked in a deep, difficult breath. When he spoke again, the anger was gone, but not the hurt. "Then you kissed me and brought the very thing I hated right to my bed. How could you do that to me? Why didn't you tell me you were really gay?" Stunned, my knees wobbled, and I leaned back against his car before they gave out and I ended up on the pavement. Never had I imagined he felt such self-loathing. I hadn't seen it, but then I'd been just seventeen. Liking some girls muddied the water for me, and I never thought of myself as anything but straight, back then. What I felt for Travis was special, outside everything, and everyone, else. He was my best friend. I was a senior in college before I dared put a name to my sexuality, and begin to accept what it meant. I took a chance he wouldn't shake me off, and grasped his elbow. He trembled under my fingertips. "Travis, I'm sorry. I didn't know. How could I?" He shivered, like he had a sudden chill. The anger left his beautiful eyes, to be replaced by a great sadness. "I'm sorry, too, Heath. I didn't know how to tell you. I thought you'd hate me. I thought you'd run away from me, and then I ran away from you." My chest ached. Thirteen years lost. "I could never hate you, Travis. There was a lot I didn't know about my teenage self. So much I didn't understand." I took a deep breath. "The truth is, I'm bi." His eyebrows drifted up. He blinked. I nodded and rolled my eyes at him. "Don't look at me like I'm speaking a foreign language."

Scott Thomas is tagged to oversee the new commuter rail line from Easton to Marionville, a high profile project that demands expertise. His love of trains makes him a natural for the job. When a friend invites him on a Mystery Train Dinner Adventure, Scott's onboard for an evening of fun. He gets more than he ever dreamed about when he meets his ideal tall, dark haired stranger on the adventure. Dakota Reece views the new commuter rail as the opening he's needed for him and his brother to build their own firm and future. Planning a start-up company while working on the commuter rail project is hard work, and Dakota takes an evening off to relax on the Mystery Train. When the train stops to serve dinner, Dakota is boldly cruised by a fellow passenger. He has to get to know this smart, sexy man and asks Scott to join him for a drink.   Scott and Dakota hit it off and a quiet cup of coffee leads to unexpected possibilities - and consequences. When Dakota makes a sudden decision to advance his timeline, Scott will do whatever is necessary to keep them together, on track, and avoiding derailment. * * * Dakota fell into step beside me as we climbed the stairs. "This is some place, isn't it? Booze, boys and boogie." "Yep. I generally stick to the cafe when I come here, but every once in a while I go downstairs to the Cancun Bar." We agreed on a table against the rear wall. He pulled out my chair and then sat across from me, his hands folded on the table. "I'm really surprised this place doesn't have a back room. It's got everything else a guy needs for a memorable night on the town." "The back room is tucked in behind the stage. Go through the arch with the twinkling white lights. You gotta pay the cover charge to conduct illicit activities with strangers at Frolic." He grinned, his silver eyes glittering in the low lighting. "I think you'd be worth the five bucks tonight." I bet he was worth a lot more. "Thanks. I think. I'm getting a decaf. What would you like?" "Oh, no. I asked you, so I'm buying." As we were only talking about two dollars, I didn't argue. The server arrived and greeted me by name. Dakota ordered two decafs and then blinked at Charlie's retreating backside. He lowered his voice. "I don't want to be politically incorrect here, but is she…" "Well, she is for tonight. Tomorrow, he'll be in a suit in a corner office on the ninth floor." "Damn. No offense to present company, but Charlie is fucking hot." "Charlie does have that effect on everyone. Thanks for the coffee, by the way." "My pleasure. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow evening?" "Hell, yeah, but I insist on at least Dutch treat." I pointed my finger at him before he could speak. "If you argue, we'll end up at the food court at the mall." Dakota rested his hand, palm up, on the table between us. I smiled and laid my hand in his. Little tendrils of heat snaked up my arm and made me shiver as his fingers closed around mine. I should've paid the cover charge so I could haul him into the back room, but rushing could ruin a lovely friendship.  "When did you move to Marionville?" I asked. He sipped his coffee. "I don't live here. I've been in and out of town on business for the last year or so. But if my company is awarded part of the new commuter rail job, I'll move here for the duration." It was just my luck the most interesting guy I'd met in the last twenty years might be gone for good in a week. And if not, I had an even bigger problem, like a  conflict of interest problem.

The sequel to A Hard Habit to Break   Tyler Phillips enjoys his small town life. He'll never get rich working the family business, but he knows there's more to a man than the size of his bank account. Easing into mid-life, Tyler's restless for something he can't find in the little borough of Easton – male companionship. Noel Springs got caught up in the economic downturn. His job gone, and retirement a lot of years in the future, Noel decides to take a long drive and see some of the country before dedicating himself to finding new employment. The open road is just what he needs right now.  When his car overheats outside the little town of Easton, Noel discovers the local mechanic is hotter than his radiator, and just as eager to blow off some steam. * * * * * "Nice car. How far back did the trouble start?" He leaned inside and pulled the release lever. Little lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes as he smiled. "About forty-one years." I grinned at him, already liking his sense of humor as I lifted the hood. A wave of steam engulfed us. I hastily closed my eyes and stepped back to keep the antifreeze-laden vapor from leaving a film on my contact lenses. "Come inside. We'll let that cool down so I can take a look at her." "You're going to tell me it's the radiator, aren't you?" His clear tenor held just a trace of the west as he followed me into what passed as a reception area and office combined. I opened the soft drink case. "What would you like, on the house? And don't panic yet." Based on the way the steam smelled, I suspected his radiator would be fine, but what was inside it was not. "Too late. I panicked about five miles ago when the temperature gauge shot up. You can't imagine how relieved I was to see your sign. I'll take coffee, if you have it." I popped the cap and handed him a cola. "Sorry. It's a little late in the day for any to be left in the pot." I grinned at him. "And I hear that a lot about my strategically placed sign out there on the Interstate." His grey gaze held my hazel one captive as I held out my hand to him. "Tyler Phillips, owner-operator." Strong fingers closed around mine, holding my hand a moment too long for politeness. "Noel Springs, stranded motorist."  

Bright and beautiful, Cassidy Barlow is one of Marionville's new breed of movers and shakers. Outspoken on political and social issues, Cass draws a lot of media attention and knows how to use it. Out and proud, Cass makes no apologies for who he is, or who he wants – and he wants Dylan Donaghy. The only thing is, from where Cass stands, Dylan seems to be involved with two different men. - Coming out. The most difficult phrase in Dylan Donaghy's vocabulary. He's made it this far in life with only his closest friends knowing he's gay. Dylan has a good reason for that to change – his deepening attraction to Cassidy Barlow. It doesn't come easy, but Dylan takes a few first steps out of the closet. It's his only choice if he wants to be with Cass, even though he knows Cass has some secrets of his own. - Every man has a private past and an unwritten future. What he won't confess stands between the two.    * * * * * His hand gripped my shoulders again. His amber gaze drilled into mine. "Just so I don't step in it, Dylan, how many of them have you slept with? And don't lie to me." I fought back against of wave of anger. How dare he imply I'd not tell him the truth? Being astute, he knew he'd pissed me off. I saw the apology in his eyes as he touched his fingertips to my lips. "That didn't come out right, Dylan." " Apology accepted. Before today, I might have told you it was none of your business, but now I think you should know. We're no longer intimate, but I have a very close, special relationship with both Travis and Tyler. I'm very happy for them that they both found a partner." "That's what I figured out Friday night when they spent all that time running in and out of an area marked 'private'. Especially Templeton." "Don't test me too often, Cass. I don't like it." I spoke sharper than intended, but he needed to know my boundaries. "There's a lot of space between your age and mine. Be careful not to judge until you get to where I am." Those restless hands of his skimmed along my sides. "I'm not being judgmental, I swear. I just needed to know what the dynamics are between you and them so I don't put both feet in my mouth." "Okay. I get it. And for what it's worth, all four of them, especially Travis, is rooting for you." "Really? He's in my corner, is he?" Cass tucked his fingers under my belt and tugged. I levered my weight off the door and stepped past him, capturing his hand to pull him into the casual space I used for informal gatherings.  "He's using tough love on me when it comes to you, so don't be shocked, or surprised, at his little quips. Have a seat." Cass eased down on the love seat and patted the spot beside him. I ignored him, and went to the bar. "What would you like to drink?" "Ginger ale?" I nodded and poured two, handing his to him with an apology it didn't come in a brandy snifter as I settled in beside him. I stopped him when he moved to put his arm around me. "You're killing me here, Dylan." "No, I'm not." I sipped my drink. "Cass, I don't want to make a misstep with you. I know what you want tonight, but what do you want next week? Or next month? Christ, what do I want next week?" He leaned back and watched me with those amber eyes. His cool, even regard gave little indication of his thoughts. Cass downed his drink in three fast swallows, then swirled the ice around in the bottom of the empty glass. "Do you always think everything to death, Dylan?"  

Keith Mitchell needs a new challenge in his life. When an old friend pitches him a business proposition he agrees to pull up stakes and more to Marionville. Keith decides his new house will be in the style he's always dreamed of having even if he will live in it alone.   Realtor and recent widower Terry reasons when a man has dreams to sell all he needs is the right buyer. But when his latest client is handsome, interesting and his age, he wonders if he's really ready to love again. What good is a perfect house if the man of your dreams won't share it? * * * "Listen, Keith. We need to get something out in the open here. You're a client. We're conducting business." But he hadn't said he wasn't interested. "I won't always be a client. I'm going to buy a house here, sooner rather than later. Then what are you going to do when I ask you out for a romantic dinner?" "Don't push me, Keith." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dylan and Cass stand. I took a gulp of my lukewarm coffee. "I guess we're going." Quick as lightning, he reached out and grabbed my wrist. "Don't go. I'll give you a ride home. Finish your coffee." Goosebumps skittered across my buttocks and down the back of my thighs at his touch. I wanted to take him up on his offer, but what did he really want? I covered his hand with mine and was inordinately pleased he didn't pull away. "Thanks, Terry, but I think tonight I should go with them. I'll see you tomorrow." He slid his hand out from between my wrist and palm. "So you're going to make me say 'please'?"

Wynn DeRocher's talent and ambition catapulted his band to the top of the charts, but he paid a steep price to achieve success. He needs a flesh and blood man, one who understands the demands of his music. He needs the man he let get away - Jude Thatcher. Wynn pitches a proposal to Jude - a lucrative job modeling the band's new line of signature logo'd clothing. Jude accepts but both men know it'll take more than fancy dinners and limo rides to convince him to risk his heart again. To covet might be a sin, but Jude needs a gesture of good faith. And he wants Wynn's leather jacket as much as he wants Wynn. Almost. * * * * * Wynn held the hip-length coat for me as I slipped my arms into the sleeves, then he let the weight of it come to rest on my shoulders. The jacket was light, but incredibly warm. I flipped open the left side to check the lining. "Don't bother. You'd have to cut the cloth to see what the insulating layer is." I stretched my arms out in front of my chest. The jacket moved with me, giving just enough to remain comfortable. "This is a nice jacket. I see why you liked. Does he make bombers?" Wynn reached in the closet and pulled out a black bomber complete with silver studs and chains. He caressed a front panel. "This is so you, Jude. Take it." For a moment, I was tempted. "I can't accept this. It's hand-stitched so I'm sure it was expensive." "Nine large. But take it. Call it a signing bonus." "Wynn, I don't know the first thing about modeling. You need a professional, or better yet, model this yourself. Your fans will go wild." His fingers trailed down my leather-clad arm until they found mine. He hesitated, then stroked his thumb over my knuckles. His voice was so low I had to strain to hear it. "I knew you were here, Jude. I came back to Marionville to find you."

Kenzie Zahn is starting over as a single man. Left with few immediate options, he accepts a friend’s invitation to visit and house sit. It’s the perfect opportunity for Kenzie to put a little space between the past and present while figuring out the best path for his future.   Mason Hall enjoys the carefree single life. He works hard, plays a little harder, and doesn’t think much about settling down. The right man will come along – or not – and he’s content to wait. A night out to enjoy a little dancing leads to a hook-up with Kenzie, the kind of man Mason has only ever fantasized about. Mason can’t let him get away.  Kenzie’s smitten. Mason is irresistible, but home is a thousand miles away and a long-distance romance isn’t workable. A strange twist of identity brings a linked past to light. Kenzie and Mason are brought to the realization that even when Fate arranges a man’s destiny, he still has to take a leap of faith, or lose out on love.  * * * * * * I couldn’t think about anything except getting the hell away from him. “I’m leaving, and neither one of us is going to make a scene. Goodbye, Mason.”  I stood, turned on my heel, and left him sitting there. I needed fresh air, to somehow manage to breathe again. If I could get out the door, I could quiet the pounding ‘why, why, why’ beating inside my skull. Was this what people meant by a surreal experience?  I fumbled my car keys, dropping them. I bent over to retrieve them without paying attention to how close to the car I was and whacked my head on the car door.  “Damn it!”  I plopped down on the frozen tundra of blacktop and grabbed the right side of my head to make sure my brains weren’t spilling out.  Great. Every time I went queen-out, something nasty happened and it was usually my own fault. Like now. I welcomed Mason’s body heat as he knelt beside me.  “Kenzie? Are you okay?” I kept my right palm pressed to my forehead and glared at him. “What do you think? Just tell me if I’m bleeding.” Mason hesitated, then stroked my face with cold fingertips. “The skin isn’t broken, but I think you’re going to have a bump.” He eased down beside me and I hoped his balls would freeze fast to the macadam through his jeans and stick when he got up. “Please talk to me, Kenzie.” I suspected there was no way to avoid a conversation with him. Self-induced concussion aside, I seemed to have regained some composure. Maybe. I had one burning question for him. “Mason, why even tell me? Why not let me live in blissful ignorance?” He reached for my hand but stopped short of taking it. I sighed and held it out to him. His chilly fingers closed around my equally cold ones. My gloves were in the car instead of my pocket. Score another point for the home team. “I had to tell you, Kenzie. It was the only right thing to do once I realized who you were.” He started to put his arm around me but I froze him with a look. Yes, it was. I had to agree with him on that point. He could have kept it from me. How would I ever learn of it? Dennis and I weren’t in touch, and as far as I was concerned, we never would be. It was all in the past, his and mine, and it couldn’t be changed. Generally, I held with the belief that if there was one thing gay men had no right to judge, it was another gay man’s past history – casting the first stone and all that crap. My immediate thought was he’d blown that out of the water, but maybe not. He’d taken a big risk by telling me about knowing my ex-partner. Lord, my head hurt.  “So you told me. Now you can screw me guilt free.”

New in town, Shiloh Rudy joins a group of civic-minded volunteers to better acquaint himself with his recently adopted community. It's a good way to make friends, network, and help make a difference, not to mention perhaps meet someone interesting—in a romantic sort of way. The one thing Shiloh didn't expect was a love to rival all others to come with four white paws. - Gale Widmyer is on his feet and moving forward after piecing his life back together following a series of wrong choices. The one bright spot in his existence, even in his darkest moments, was the fulfillment of his dream to become a veterinarian. Gale's making good on a promise to himself when an abandoned kitten leads him to Shiloh Rudy and a chance at the happiness he never hoped to have. - Laying the cornerstone for a developing relationship comes easy for Shiloh and Gale. But the wounds of the past often remain unhealed at their deepest point. A few careless words erect a wall of silence between the two men, one Shiloh has to breach if he hopes to win Gale back. But it will take more than apologies to win Gale's forgiveness and put old fears to rest. It'll take a cat named Hercules... * * * * * …The abrupt weaning I understood, but the other? Who would do that to such a helpless creature? "Then I'm keeping him." "In that case, your kitten has fleas, ear mites, and a touch of conjunctivitis. He's also under nourished and almost surely has worms." My heart pounded as I snatched the kitten from Galen's hands and tucked him safely against my chest. "Is he going to die?" Galen pushed his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head and grinned at me. I fell into his gorgeous hazel eyes as he stared into my sky blue orbs with open curiosity. Damn, the man had long eyelashes. "He'll be fine. Do you think we can finish our chores here this morning, or do we need to go straight to my clinic so I can treat him and fix you up with what you need?" He poked the kitten's paw and those tiny, wicked claws popped out again. "You're in for a real treat with this little guy." I'd go anywhere he asked me to go, but I didn't want to appear too eager. "Oh? Why is that?" "They call cats with these black and white markings a 'tuxedo' because, obviously, they look like they're wearing one. This fellow has the added bonus of white 'gloves.' Tuxedos tend to have a lot of personality." Galen squeezed my elbow. I thought his hand lingered a moment too long, but perhaps it was just wishful thinking. "C'mon. I'll tell the other work crew they'll have to finish pulling up these bricks and we'll go to the clinic." "Thanks, man. I owe you." I knew I was in two kinds of trouble when he nodded and grinned. "I'm afraid you will…"    

Hollis Milnor didn't think twice about moving to Marionville. His ailing cousin needs his help running his nightclub, Frolic, and Hollis needs to put some space between himself and an ex-boyfriend determined to make his life miserable. Management skills he has. Experience running a nightclub, not so much, but he's a quick learner.  Caleb Brewer is a steady, hard-working man establishing a microbrewery. He's got a great product and demand for it is growing. When a new manager takes over the hottest nightclub in Marionville, Caleb is determined to maintain the arrangements he made with the owner. What starts out as business quickly heats up the summer nights. Hollis hesitates, reluctant to step over the legal line. Caleb isn't just a vendor. He works part-time at the nightclub. Becoming involved puts them both in murky waters, waters that become crystal clear when the past catches up with Hollis and puts everyone he loves in danger.      _*_*_ Caleb eased down in the wing chair and stretched out his long legs. "Did we sorta get off on the wrong foot here? I can't afford to have that happen." I gave him points for directness. He didn't aim to come off as being abrupt. He simply kept everything right out front.  "I know. It's my fault, Caleb, and I'm sorry. I'm here to manage the nightclub, not get personally involved with any of the men working within the business end of things." "Fair enough. I thought that might be it, but I wanted to be sure that's all it was. Now I need to ask you this." He took a deep breath. "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I'd like to talk about some business." I admit getting involved with the hired help wasn't a good idea and he comes back with an invitation to dinner? We could talk ideas and possibilities for our respective ventures right now. We didn't need food, wine and the privacy of a crowded restaurant, but what better way to learn more about him?  "I guess I do need to eat sometime." His blue gaze locked on mine. "I think I like that you had to consider it. Too much impulse can lead a man astray." "Is that where you'd like to go? Astray?" His eyes sparkled with humor. "I've been there before so I know which road not to take." "Same here. Tell me something. How long have you been connected with Frolic?" "Not long. Maybe a year. Why?" I grinned at him. "You might have information useful to me." He rolled his eyes and lifted his gaze to the ceiling. "And that, Caleb Brewer, is why the man agreed to have dinner with you."  I chuckled. "Talk to yourself often, do you? I like to keep things above board, too. So, yeah, I'm going to ask you a bunch of questions, but I think I'll really enjoy having dinner with you." "I get it, and it's okay. So how about I meet you about seven o'clock? At The Wharf?" "I've heard about the place. Give me your phone number in case something happens and I can't get away on time. I can at least let you know I'm running late and why." We exchanged cell numbers and he held his hand out as he stood to leave. I reached out and his fingers closed around mine. The shock of his warm palm against mine turned my arm to lead. He let go of me. "It's not a date, Hollis. Not if you don't want it to be." It wasn't until he'd disappeared I realized I rather wished it were.   

When Griff Ernde makes a late day visit to the cemetery, the gates close with him on the inside. Griff ends up in a cell at the local precinct house charged with trespassing, and with no way to salvage the day. No doubt about, it's a personal low in his life. Then his luck changed when Kory Watts joined him in the cell. Kory Watts has a knack for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Stood up on a blind date at a local club, Kory gets swept up in a drug raid and lands in a cell with an inebriated stranger. When his drug test comes back clean, the duty sergeant offers Kory a deal: if he takes Griff home, they both can go with no charges. It's not a deal Kory will refuse. - When Kory and Griff meet again, they agree to have a drink - of ice water. Neither man judges the other and it's quickly apparent they share an attraction. As their budding relationship heats up, Kory wonders if he's ready to get serious with a guy he just met no matter how well suited to each other they are. When Griff is suddenly charged with the murder of his father, Kory is ready to move heaven and earth to help prove him innocent, but it might not be enough to save what's between them. *   *   * Friday morning finally arrived. I sent a text to Griff, just to check in, and he sent back everything was set. At five minutes to twelve, I got a one-word text from him. Nooner? I didn't even think about it before I sent my reply. On my way! I hit the off switch on my laptop and yelled for Leon. He appeared in the doorway. "What's up, other than your voice?" I rolled my eyes at him. "I hate to ask you again, but can you close up this afternoon?" "Sure. Smoke loves to sneak in here and sleep in your chair." "Of course he does. Thanks, man. I owe you." He grinned. "I'll cash in my marker the day before the Smithfield Agility Trials." "Done! See ya Monday." I didn't wait for him to reply. I was out the door and into my car, headed to Griff's place. He opened the door before I could knock. I stepped inside and he grabbed me around the waist and backed me against the refrigerator. I cupped the back of his head and pulled him in for a rough kiss.

Leon McNamee successfully worked his life plan to a good job, his own home, and the one thing he always wanted as a boy - a dog. He hasn't had much luck in the relationship department, but in Smoke, he has all the company he usually needs. Jeremy Cooke's new plan is to stay clear of entanglements and not get hurt again. He moves to Marionville to start over and decides to rescue a damaged dog. After all, he's well acquainted with abuse. Leon and Jere get acquainted over their shared love of dogs, but Jeremy holds close his secrets. When an argument escalates, disaster strikes. Leon has to fight to save Jere's dog - and the man's trust. At the end of the day, his best ally is a black Labrador Retriever named Smoke. * * * I didn't want to do that. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to him for fear I'd never see him again. My instinct said he'd never call me, and if I called him, he might hesitate to answer. I showed my desperation. "Do you like baseball?" "Yeah, I do! It's really cool Marionville is getting a double A team." He narrowed his eyes. "What?" I hung my head. "I don't know a thing about baseball." "So why did you ask me if I liked it?" "Would you like to hang out at my place and watch the game? You can teach me about it." He stared at me, lips slightly parted, an enigmatic expression in his eyes. "Do you like anything other besides dogs?" "I like to ski." He glanced at the sky, and then looked at me. "Water or snow?" I grinned at him. "Both." "Thank God. I've never been water skiing, but I'm pretty good on the slopes." "I didn't know they had mountains in Peoria," I quipped, still smiling. He smirked at me. He was adorable when he wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes. "When I was a mere lad, we spent every, and I mean every Christmas at my grandfather's place in Pennsylvania. I learned to ski. And you're a smartass, Leon McNamee." "And you're just too cute Jeremy Cooke." I didn't actually think about it. Maybe if I had, I wouldn't have done it. I slipped my arm around his shoulders, leaned in, and kissed him. He started and sucked in a quick breath. I'd never had anyone go so still in my arms. But he didn't pull away. His lips trembled, and yet he didn't push us apart. I moved my lips over his in a soft caress and ended the kiss.

Chandler Beck is at a crossroads. To move forward, he has to take a trip back to the biggest regret in his life. He discovers a man happily settled down with a partner, both of whom are ready to call him a friend. When they offer him a place to rest, Chandler ends up in their guest room and with a job at the best restaurant in town. Once a rising star on the pro golf circuit, a back injury forced August Howard to give up the game. Swallowing his pride, he accepted a job waiting tables and worked his way up to the manager of The Wharf, the area's premier restaurant. He's not happy when the owner does a favor for a friend and hires the seemingly inexperienced Chandler Beck as a bartender. It doesn't take Chandler long to win over the prickly August, but August is a man with secrets. Their friendship heats up and when August's past comes calling, Chandler pays the price. The only option open is for August to confess all and hope those around him, especially Chandler, will accept he's a different man from who he was in his yesterdays.  _*_*_ I grasped his wrist. "What can I do to help?" August raised his head. Our gazes locked. "First off, don't presume you know anything about me beyond what I tell you. Secondly, I need a glass of water, too." "Coming right up." I drew a glass of carbonated water from the soda tap and set it in front of him. He drew a small tin from his pocket. "You didn't see this." What I saw was him select a white pill from the tin, neatly crack it in half, and swallow one of the pieces. Did he have a drug problem? Since he'd taken the pill in front of me, I didn't consider it as being nosey to ask what it was. "Okay. What sort of medication did I not see you take?" "I messed up my back so bad ten years ago I was forced to quit the tour. Whenever I'm on my feet for hours on end, it becomes painful. Even with acetaminophen, I won't take more than I absolutely need to take the edge off." Tour? The pro golf tour. I gawked at him as the bits and pieces came together in my mind. "Oh, my God. You're August Howard. I saw you play at Augusta in the Open. You were really good and then you vanished." He grimaced. "Two weeks after Augusta, I unloaded on a tee shot and hit the ground. Herniated disc. Pinched nerves. Two surgeries. No…more…golf." He pushed the empty water glass in my direction and reached for his coffee. "I can't even play a par three course now." The grief in his voice was palpable. I thought I understood. The guy had had the world by the ass. Money, fame, recognition - and it vanished in a second. Not only had the talent he'd been given been rendered useless, he now lived with physical pain. What did one say in the face of his loss? "I'm so sorry, man." His angry gaze locked with mine. We stared at each other. I refused to blink. To my surprise, his features softened and he took a deep breath as he searched my face. "I think you mean that, don't you?" he asked, his voice pitched low to almost a whisper. "Yeah, August. I do. I can't imagine losing a dream like that." He almost smiled. "Who said golf was my dream?" I did smile. "You know what they say. Don't kid a kidder." He rapped his knuckles on the bar and slid off the barstool. "We have work to do, kidder. We should get to it so everyone can get out of here and go home for the night." I grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Hey. Did we just have a moment?" August grinned and walked away.