I've got a new snippet for you from THE TRUTH AS HE KNOWS IT (Perspectives #1). It's from the start of Chapter Three. Noel is out for lunch with his best friend Tristan, and he runs into a familiar face.
Mineo's had been busy every time Noel stopped in,
and today was no different. A line of at least six people stood between them
and the cash register. You placed your order, paid, took a number, then waited
for it to be called, because everything was assembled to order. Besides deli
sandwiches and hoagies, they also offered wraps, soups, a variety of personal
sized pizzas, and six different kinds of wings.
Noel
perused the vast menu board of options, unsure what he was in the mood for.
"What are you feeling?"
"I
don't know. You decide."
Tristan
seemed genuinely perplexed, and it struck Noel that for the last few years,
Tristan ate the food that was put in front of him. He didn't have to make a
choice. Noel thought back to college and the things Tristan liked to eat.
"How
about the turkey club?" Noel said. "You like mayo, right?"
"Yes.
Okay, that sounds good."
"Excellent."
By
the time they reached the register, Noel had decided on corned beef on rye with
mustard. A classic combination. He gave their orders to the girl at the
register, plus two large sodas they could fill at the dispenser. She slid his
debit card through the machine.
A
dark head of hair slipped past behind the counter, the owner wearing a blue
Mineo's apron. He sidled up to a sandwich station, then grabbed two red
baskets. Lined them with waxed paper. Noel stared, willing the man to turn
around. He took his debit card by rote, then his order number the same way.
Reaching
for a bag of rye bread, the man in the apron showed his profile, and surprise
sent Noel's heart racing. Shane. The stripper from the party. Shane turned back
to his sandwich making quickly, but Noel had seen him.
Tristan
touched his elbow, cluing Noel into his holding up the line. They filled their
soda cups, then found a table as close to the service counter as possible. Noel
sat facing it. He couldn't explain his newfound fascination with Shane. He
hadn't honestly expected to see the man again, assuming that no one would strip
at a party in a town they lived in. Assuming, again, that Shane lived in
Stratton. Which was a logical assumption, since he worked at Mineo's.
So
many assumptions when the object of his interest was assembling his lunch less
than ten feet away.
And
Tristan, bless him, noticed. "Do you know him? Do I know him?"
"No,
you don't know him." Noel tried not to stare. "I barely know him. We
crossed paths the other night."
"He's
cute."
"And
probably taken by an equally cute girl."
Tristan
angled himself to study Shane, his sharp gaze so like his old self when they'd
go out looking for action. "Dunno about that. I'd lay odds he swings our
way."
"Based
on what?"
"Instinct."
He leaned forward and pitched his voice low. "You know my gaydar has
always been better than yours."
True.
"Number
four-oh-six!" Shane's shouting voice made Noel jump. He glanced down at
their order number: 406.
Noel
stood to fetch their order. Shane had the tray in his hands. His eyes widened
briefly when he saw Noel, startled. Trapped. He blushed, then dropped his gaze
to the tray. The two feet between them suddenly felt like a chasm. Noel took
their food without a word, unwilling to speak up and embarrass Shane further.
"Okay,
I don't know how you know him, but that was kind of awkward," Tristan said
when Noel sat back down. "You two hook up or something?"
"No,
nothing like that." He couldn't make himself tell Tristan about Shane. The
entire situation was too personal—not for himself, so much as it was for Shane.
Noel could read people pretty well, and he'd seen the shame in Shane's eyes.
The fear of people knowing too much.
Lunch
passed pleasantly enough with inane chatter. Noel didn't see anyone he really
knew. He'd lived in Stratton for about two years, but his overnight shifts left
little actual interaction with the town, and he wasn't a social butterfly. The
few friends he had were fellow officers, including his weekly workout buddy, and
that was okay with Noel.
He
couldn't help a few more glances at Shane. Even though he'd seen the man
practically naked, he was just as stunningly handsome in a polo and khakis. He
worked with the precision of someone with years of practice, reaching for ingredients
almost blindly. Noel found himself insanely curious why Shane made sandwiches
by day and played stripper by night.
It
wasn't the time or place to ask.
