Chapter Two

Warning: Bad gay flirting behind the cut.

"Well, look who it is," Milly's dad said as we walked in the house. Jeff was a big guy, football quarterback big. Even two of me weren’t as big around as he was, and it wasn’t because he was fat. I figured he hadn’t been home for very long as he was still in principal mode in his button-down and dress slacks.

He held out his hand. "Good to see you again, son."

Milly often complained that she looked like her dad, and I could see it now. They were both tall, broad shouldered, with dark hair. Mills was a little shorter than me, though. Her mother’s genes, I suppose.

Shifting my bag to the shoulder strap, I reached out to take Jeff’s hand. "You, too. Thank you so much for putting me up like this. I shouldn't be here any more than a week, and then I'll get out of your hair."

"Not at all," Milly's mom said with a smile as she came in from the kitchen, absently smoothing down her blondish hair. Abby was one of those ever-happy people who used their whole face to smile, even her eyes. The dark color of which, I noticed, she had given to Milly. "After what you and your father did for us, you're welcome in this house any time."

I smiled back. "Still, thank you."

Jeff gestured with his head. "Need help taking your bags up?"

Milly and I had grabbed my stuff before coming inside. She held a duffle of stuff, I had an attache and bigger canvas suitcase. I shot Milly a glance but she shook her head.

“Nah,” I said. “I think we got it.”

“Dinner’ll be ready in a few,” Abby said. “Milly knows where the guest bedroom is, so go on up. I’ll call you down.”

Milly took the lead, and we tramped up the stairs. The Parker’s house was interesting because the only rooms on the top floor were the guest room, Milly’s room, and a bathroom. Her parents had this big ole master suite on the ground floor.

“Ta da!” Milly flung open the guest room door. “Here it is.” She headed toward the wall with the closet, across from the bed. “We can put your stuff in here.”

“I probably won’t be in town long enough for that to really be worth it,” I said.

She gave me a look, then shrugged. “All right, but we can put the bags in here to keep them out of the way.”

That was as good a plan as any, so I headed that way. When all my stuff was piled on the bottom of the closet, Milly turned to me. “We should go drive around after dinner.”

I grinned. “Wow, you really got a mad-on for my car.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” she said. “You had one before it was the cool new thing that everybody had, and I never even got to see it.”

Laughing, I said, “Milly, I hardly got to see it. You know I’m on the road a lot, mostly it just sat unused at hunter central.”

There was a forlorn look in her dark eyes. “That poor little baby.”

“You care more about my car than I do.” I shook my head. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

I have to admit that dinner was…a surreal experience. It was served in the dining room, an honest-to-God dining room, using matching place settings. The number of times I’d ever used the full-on setting to begin with wasn’t high, even at the manor. There was even a salad fork and the entree fork. Two forks…just what was the point, really?

Anyway, dinner itself was steak. I vaguely recall a vegetable and some other side which I’m sure were fantastic, but mostly I was all about the steak. Abby Parker made better steak than some of the professional cooks my dad had hired over the years. The mind, it boggled.

Jokingly, Abby asked me if I was enjoying myself, and I made incoherent appreciative noises back at her. My father would have been appalled at my manners, I’m sure, but oh my God the steak was delicious.

After that was over, Milly convinced her parents to let her go driving with me on the condition she was home early. She dashed upstairs to grab our coats while I waited for her, shaking my head.

I just sort of drove aimlessly while she oohed and awed over my car. Eventually she got over it.

“So,” she said, “how’s the solo thing, treatin’ ya?”

“I’m surprised how much I like it,” I replied. “I mean, I’ve only been doing it for a few months, so maybe the novelty of it just hasn’t worn off yet, but I really do like it.”

“You’re so independent,” Milly cracked.

I shot her a shit-eating grin. “Don’t I know it.”

“What about that guy you were partners with?”

“Eric,” I said. “I suppose he’s out doing his own thing too, or else his dad got him a new partner.”

Milly looked at me. “Don’t you talk to him?”

I felt my mouth crook wryly. “Mills, communication in the hunter community is mostly just for information or emergencies. I’m not gonna call him up to chat.”

She shrugged. “Okay, that makes sense, I guess.”

Her mouth flashed a grin just for a second, and I knew what she was gonna ask before she opened her mouth. “So, you guys ever get down and dirty with it?”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “He’s straight. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Milly asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

“He’s straight when sober, but up for a handjob when drunk.”

“Ah,” she said sagely. “Straight, but slutty.”

I laughed. “If you knew Eric you would know he’s not slutty in any sense. Way too up tight. It’s a shame, too.” I sighed. “He’s frickin’ gorgeous.”

“But now you gotta go pick up some hot new thing,” Milly said.

“If by ‘new thing’ you mean ‘random bar hook-up,’” I said. “Then, yes.”

“Don’t you get lonely on the road all the time?” she asked.

“Not really,” I answered. “I’m actually pretty cool with me-time, and besides, having someone to come back to just makes going away lonelier.”

It was obvious on her face she wanted to shoot that down somehow, but in the end she didn’t. After a second, she sighed.

“We should probably head back. It’s getting dark and the ‘rents will be freaking out.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “I need to go get ready anyway. Too bad you can’t come with.”

Milly rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you can score just fine without me.”

My grin returned to my face. “Here’s hopin’.”

The Library was a small bar and grill trying its hardest to be hip and ironic. From what I could see, it was putting up a good fight for one and failing epically at the other. The jury was still out on which was which. One side was a legitimate restaurant that let anyone in, and the other side was the bar. I’d brought one of my fake IDs just in case, but that was a last resort. If I ended up coming here a lot the fake would be too risky.

Turned out it got a little cold at night around here, so I’d thrown my heaviest leather jacket on over my royal blue button-down and black jeans. I looked nice, but hopefully just nice enough to look like I was looking, not like I was waiting.

As I came in I took a quick glance around. The bar along the far wall stretched across the entire place. There was an arc in the wall separating the two rooms where the bar passed through, which I have to admit I thought was kinda clever. Even the people on the pop-only side could sit at a bar and look chic and urbane as they chatted away. Grinning, I sauntered that direction.

I ordered a Pepsi, and when it came I swiveled on my seat to take in the room as I sipped it. The lighting in here was low and intimate, but in a nightlife kinda way instead of a high-class dining kinda way. There didn’t seem to be that many people here, but this was a college town. There had to be someone at least curious around—that’s what college was for. Maybe I’d have better luck on the other side—

“Looking for anyone in particular?” asked a voice to my left.

I glanced over to see the first prospect I’d had all night. The first thing I noticed was his height. He was at least two or three inches taller than me, and being six feet myself I didn’t exactly trip over taller guys. His hair was brown, but not as dark as Milly’s. With the lighting, I could tell his eyes were dark, but not much more than that. He had a lazy, easy smile on his face as he plopped down on the stool next to me.

“Oh, not really.” My voice was light and teasing. “Just some cute, available college guy. Know any?”

The casual light in his eyes heated a bit. “I might be able to help you out with that. Ira.” He held out his hand. I reached over to take it.

“Regan.”

He leaned closer. “Reagan?”

I grimaced. “Regan.”

Laughing, he held up his hands and backed away. “Okay, my bad.”

“It’s okay.” I gave him a sweet, innocent smile. “So what do you do, Ira?”

“I’m taking some night classes right now.” Ira shrugged. “I figure since college kids are supposed to sleep all day anyway, might as well cut to the chase.”

That made me smile honestly, in spite of myself.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I move around a lot for work,” I said. “I’m just in town for a few days.”

He looked skeptical. “You look pretty young to have that kind of job.”

Bashfully I turned away. “It’s kind of you to say so.”

When I looked back, I said, “So. Have we flirted enough?”

Ira cast me a sideways look. “Enough for what?”

“I think you know.”