Page 21 of Coming Clean

Jeremy returned then,carrying a hooded sweatshirt along with what appeared to be acollared cardigan he’d stolen from the set of a 1950s TV show.Connor was tempted to check it for elbow patches. It would makealmost anyone else look like a douche, but Jeremy would look sexyas hell in it. FuckingHell. Was he going to start havingfantasies about Father KnowsBest sweaters? Maybe he did need ashrink. But since none of them had been able to do anything for himafter his last mission in Afghanistan, he didn’t trust they couldcure him of his new obsession with soft-skinned poets and hipsterclothes.

Connor took the offeredsweatshirt, and Jeremy grabbed an enormous picnic basket from thehall table. Connor had packed a few ham sandwiches and an apple.Obviously, his and Jeremy’s ideas of a picnic were not the same.Was that a bottle of wine sticking out of the basket?

“I’ve got plenty to share,”Jeremy said. He must have noticed Connor staring at the basket. “Iwasn’t sure if you were packing anything or not and since youoffered to drive…”

“Sabrina offered for me todrive.” Those words came out more resentfully than he meant themto. Jeremy’s smile faded. “Not that I minded or anything,” headded, hoping to salvage the moment. “I appreciate you packingextra food for me. I brought some, but nothing thatfancy.”

“Oh, it’s not fancy,really. It’s just some meat and cheese and crostini. And somemustard and chutney to go on it. And a pint of berries and a poundcake I made this morning. I’d been craving one.”

Connor stared, almost toostunned to speak. “You bake too?”

Jeremy’s cheeks turned evenredder. “Yeah. I spend so much time in my head that it feels goodto work with my hands on occasion. I make my own bread most of thetime, too.”

“That’s… I love pound cake,and your food is wayfancier than mine.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter.Like I said, I’m happy to share.” Jeremy really didn’t seem to carehow different they were, he’d never said anything to make Connorfeel inferior. Connor wasn’t just some jarhead to Jeremy, and thatmeant a lot. He wasn’t used to men like Jeremy—wealthy, intelligentmen—treating him like an equal. Some of the clients he cleaned forwere awesome but there were others who treated him like he wasthere to serve their every whim. Not that he’d mind serving a whimor two of Jeremy’s. The man wasn’t only hot, he continued toimpress Connor more every time Connor spent time withhim.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sabrina was wearinga huge pinkish purple sun hat which made her easy to find. She’dspread out a picnic blanket on one of the wide, grassy tiers of theamphitheater. Jeremy added his offerings to the fried chicken,potato salad, and strawberries she’d brought, but Connor was tooembarrassed to bring out his little sack lunch. He’d look like akid playing with the grownups.

“You’re welcome toeverything I brought,” Sabrina said. “I’m not going to eat allthis.”

“Where’s Ingrid? I thoughtshe was coming with you.”

“She cancelled on me at thelast minute. I was so glad you guys were coming.”

“What happened?” Connorasked.

Sabrina shrugged. “I don’tknow. She probably had to go have her energy aligned, or decidedlast minute to attend a spirituality retreat so she can pretendshe’s going to delve deep into a new practice that she’ll be overin about five minutes.”

Jeremy laughed. “She soundsinteresting.”

“Flaky is more like it. Butshe entertains Connor.”

Connor rolled his eyes.“Where I grew up, we didn’t have hippie weirdoes like that. I’mstill trying to adjust.”

“Wheredid you grow up?”Jeremy asked.

Shit!Why had he said anything? Of course Jeremy wascurious now. Connor wished he at least had some food on his plateso he could pretend to be chewing and unable to talk. “I… uh… Idon’t like to talk about it.”

Jeremy frowned. “Badmemories?”

“Yeah. It was just a boringlittle town in Ohio, but my family… things weren’t good.” For amoment, Connor returned to his childhood:

“Can’t you do anythingright, boy? Get over here and clean it again.”

“Where do you thinkyou’re going?” “Out, sir.”

“A dog could do a betterjob than this.” “I’m sorry, sir.”

“I told you what wouldhappen if I found any wrinkles now, didn’t I.” “Please, sir.I…”

And then the blows wouldcome. Any protest, any contradiction and he got hit again. Connorcould never meet his stepfather’s standards. No matter how hard hetried. So to escape, he joined the Marines where discipline reignedand now he ran a cleaning business. He was sure Sabrina’spsychologist friend would have a field day with that.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I got out andI’ve never been back.” Please don’t askany more questions.