Catch Me If I Fall Read online

  * * *

  * * *

  CATCH ME IF I FALL

  by

  RILEY KNOX

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

  * * *

  * * *

  Catch Me If I Fall

  An Amber Quill Press Book

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.AmberQuill.com

  http://www.AmberHeat.com

  http://www.AmberAllure.com

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  Copyright © 2011 by Riley Knox

  ISBN 978-1-61124-121-1

  Cover Art © 2011 Trace Edward Zaber

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my partner, who is cringing proudly

  at this dedication, and my friends Dani, Ani, Divina,

  and all the other folks who offered support, praise and

  the occasional, "WHAT THE HECK," to help keep

  me on track. Thank you so much for everything.

  Let's do it again sometime.

  Chapter 1

  * * *

  "THE DOOBELL IS RINGING, UNCLE AVERY!"

  Pushing his glasses up his nose with one index finger, Avery Cole wiggled the other around in his ear, trying to get the hearing back. When his younger sister Sarah had dropped off her son on her way to an out-of-state work conference, she'd grinned and assured Avery that Kyle would help "liven up" what she deemed his normal--aka "stale"--daily routine.

  Forty-eight hours later, Avery would have blown a homeless man for a taste of stale.

  Wimbledon tennis was lively. Trying to keep up with a four-year-old fueled by the sugar rush a desperate uncle had armed him with was lethal.

  Hastily turning the corner, Avery pounded down the stairs, pants still unzipped from the bathroom break he had been trying to squeeze in between another round of Sesame Street and his limited knowledge of card tricks.

  "Kyle!" he called out. "Do not touch that door, buddy! You know the rules."

  Small feet in Spiderman sneakers squeaked as they slid across the linoleum. Hands that had been aiming for the knob guiltily curled behind his back. From his vantage point on the steps, Avery could see the chocolate stains on the child's fingers.

  "I wasn't going to touch it. I was just looking at it!"

  "Uh-huh. What does Elmo say we look with?"

  The little boy grinned, showing off dimples and the cookie crumbs stuck between his teeth to frighteningly cute effect. "Our eyes."

  "Right. Not our hands, so keep yours where I can see 'em." Avery fought a grin as his nephew folded his hands behind his head like he was auditioning for a non-title role in Cops. Showing amazing dexterity considering his five hours of sleep, Avery zipped his pants and bumped the little boy away from the door and into a fit of giggles with his hip.

  Surprise and a bit of remorse for his one handed zip-trick slid through him when he opened the door and saw his next-door neighbor, Ethan Rhodes, standing on the porch

  His extremely sexy and, sadly, very straight neighbor.

  One of Avery's brows arched when he managed to pull himself out of his inevitable slide into the fantasyland where Ethan had played a starring role for months and really take a look at the man.

  In place of his usual blue jeans and tee shirt under a flannel shirt that Avery had secretly nicknamed "construction chic," Ethan sported a green sash that cut across his white tee shirt like a beauty queen's pride. A pair of tiny green cargo shorts that left little question--praise God!--that the man was a walking, talking slab of prime male real estate, finished the ensemble.

  Avery admired the wide breadth of Ethan's shoulders and well-defined chest firmed by manual labor at construction sites, before finally settling on the easily recognizable boxes in his hands.

  "Cookies!" Kyle happily announced.

  That they were. Girl Scout Cookies, without the girl part of the equation attached. A little voice shouted ah hah! as Ethan's outfit made sense for a second, only to not the very next moment, when a perfunctory glance around didn't reveal Ethan's daughters, whom Avery knew from coaching the local girls' softball team.

  Avery's brow hovered somewhere in space as he swept Ethan's six-foot-plus frame again, admiring those long, lightly furred legs. The other man's expression twisted into a sheepish smile when their eyes met.

  "Hey there, Avery. Who's this?" He smiled down at Kyle.

  "Hi, Ethan. This is Kyle, my sister Sarah's son. He's been staying with me while she's at some work enrichment thing. Kyle, say hello."

  "Hi, Mr. Cookie Man," the little boy echoed obediently. "Are you related to the Cookie Monster?"

  Ethan's smile widened, creating deep lines around his eyes and mouth that softened the rugged angles of his face and brought out glints of mischief in his hazel eyes--something Avery wouldn't ever have guessed from the serious expression Ethan usually sported as he went to and from work.

  As stalker-esque as it sounded, Avery knew exactly how few extracurricular activities Ethan engaged in.

  There were some benefits to working from home, and one of them was parking himself at his window like a houseplant every time he heard Ethan's car coming and going at exactly the same times every day. Other than picking up his kids from softball practice, the only deviation in the man's conservative routine was the occasional grocery store run.

  Avery snuck another furtive look at Ethan's teeny shorts. That was definitely a deviation from the normal Sunday routine.

  "Not to my knowledge, though it looks like you are," Ethan observed, bringing Avery's attention back to the conversation as his eyes zeroed in on the cookie crumbs still clinging to Kyle's formerly white tee shirt.

  "Uh-huh. Uncle Avery and I had cookies and milk for dessert after we ate pizza and Pop-Tarts this morning!"

  It was Avery's turn to look sheepish, blinking as Ethan grinned at him. The man's dimples were distracting him to an absurd degree. He'd consider tracing them with his tongue--if they didn't have a toddler audience and the man wasn't off limits.

  Which he was. Period. The end.

  Avery loved dimples.

  "That sounds like quite the feast. I'm sorry I missed it."

  "I don't have kids around often," Avery lamely explained. "I wasn't really sure what they ate outside of a school lunch box, and bologna has always skeeved me out, so we winged it."

  "Mommy says my friend Molly's mom is full of bologna. Sometimes she says she's full of beans. She's full of lots of stuff."

  Avery cringed as Ethan snickered. Unfazed, Kyle leaned up on tiptoes to admire a box of cookies, stroking a little hand along the top of the box like he was petting a cat. The tips of Avery's fingers tingled, itching to join the party though he had a very different target in mind.

  Whatever his political beliefs might be--and Avery didn't much care one way or the other--those tiny shorts left no doubt that Ethan Harrison swung heavily to the left.

  Avery reeled his wayward mind in and up from his unsuspecting neighbor's crotch with a soft clearing of his throat. "Note to self--sugar is not one of the main food groups."

  Ethan's dimples flashed again. Avery tried to keep his knees from going weak. "Yea, I learned that lesson really quick after Hannah and Becca were born. It's like kiddie c-r-a-c-k.
"

  "And Sarah's going to love me when he crashes on her after his weekend bender." Avery said with a smirk. It was definite payback for all the years of sibling torture he'd been the scrawny victim of.

  "Uncle Avery, can I have a cookie please?"

  "I love that you said please, kiddo, but let's wait and see how excited Mom is about trying to put you to bed all hopped up on unnatural sweeteners."

  "Please?" The lower lip, which Avery had become very familiar with over the last two days, began to descend like an enemy missile.

  The cuteness factor was almost overpowering, but he stood firm for the sake of adult sanity. "Or we could have absolutely no possibility of cookies at all if you prefer?"

  "NO!" came the hasty response. Kyle sighed as if the world were truly a cruel, cruel place. "Ok...later. Can I go watch TV now?"

  "Sure. But don't sit too close. I don't want to have to break out my spatula again to peel you off." Avery grinned as he got hugged around the legs.

  "I'll tell Cookie Monster when I see him that you have cookies, too," Kyle assured Ethan, before dashing off toward the living room.

  "And while he takes care of that"-- Avery said, casually crossing his arms over his chest--"you get to tell me what's up with Halloween coming early."

  "Oh, that," Ethan mumbled, the sunlight glinting off the silver strands laced through his dark hair as he dipped his head. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

  Avery snorted. Despite the Spartan black glasses he always wore perched on his nose--whenever Kyle hadn't accidently knocked them off his face practicing wrestling moves--he wasn't blind.

  "Not notice?" he said incredulously, taking immense pleasure in watching the older man fidget in a way that was both uncharacteristic and adorable in a man his size. "All I can say is that if you keep walking around like that, Ethan, cookie sales are going to be up so high you might singlehandedly re-boost the economy."

  Since they were talking about it, he considered it socially acceptable to steal another admiring look at the man. "So what brought on this need to induce diabetes?"

  A wry smile twisted Ethan's lips. "Eh," he mumbled, broad shoulders shrugging. "I lost a bet to the girls."

  "What was the bet?" Avery's grin widened when the bigger man's perpetual sunburn seemed to suddenly blaze a little more concentrated on those chiseled cheekbones.

  Damn...dimples and he blushes. Wonder how far down it goes...

  "They told me something that seemed a little...too good to be true... and I didn't believe them." His smile tipped higher on one side than the other. "Turns out they made a pretty convincing argument, and this was my punishment."

  "You're kidding, right?" Avery whistled low when Ethan shook his head. "Man, you just walked right into that one. After my second year coaching the softball team, I realized that enemy combatants have nothing on teenage girls when it comes to one-upping you. Last time I made a bet with them I ended up buying donuts for every game for a month."

  And painting his fingernails Ruby Woo-hoo Red, but that wasn't something he was sharing with a man who oozed testosterone even when dressed like the Chippendale's version of a Girl Scout. Luckily, March had been cold enough to wear gloves all month.

  "Yea, they're at that age when talking to boys on their cell phones is more exciting than doing their community duty--big surprise there," Ethan said.

  Avery shuddered. "That is the reason I am never having my own kids--well aside from the more obvious hurdles." He shrugged, watching Ethan's eyes for any reaction to that.

  Although he didn't advertise with billboards, Avery had never hidden his sexuality. His family had always been supportive, and Sarah had told him more than once that he'd set off anyone's gaydar the moment he opened his mouth, so it had always seemed a moot point. Most people seemed to be all right with it. At least no burning crosses had appeared on his front lawn beside the rosebushes yet.

  Ethan's expression grew thoughtful, and Avery felt his cheeks heat when the other man's gaze slowly swept Avery's body with a deliberation that his foolish mind mistook as interest.

  Impossible, because the man was a divorced father. With two kids. For all sane intents and purposes, he was a single dad who was off limits since Avery had never seen any indication that Ethan had any interest in men. Still, if the look the man was giving him right now from beneath those ridiculously long lashes was any indication, there was definitely some sizzle in the air.

  "I don't know about that. You were doing pretty well with him. I think you'd be good with kids. I trust you around my girls every week at practice."

  The words were innocent enough, but as the other man leveled a look at him, Avery wished he had the secret decoder ring that Kyle had found in his breakfast cereal yesterday morning.

  "Thanks," he said, awkwardly rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "If you ever need someone to check in on them, I'm just next door. We can bond over movies starring cute, effeminate boys."

  Ethan's lips quirked crookedly in a half smile. "You like them young and pretty?"

  Hello, Houston, we have a problem. Avery winced inwardly as his attempt at flippancy crashed and burned with epic success. "Since I look terrible in orange, no, not at all. But that's what's available... I mean...well not available to me because I'm thirty-two and they're underage and that's like whoa illegal but..." He jammed his tongue hard into the back of his teeth before it could twist him into a place with a guaranteed perv registration and ankle bracelets in his future.

  "I like Tom Selleck," he said finally.

  Ethan's grin deepened slowly as he propped a broad shoulder against the porch, his white shirt straining over well-defined chest muscles in a way designed to give Avery a heart attack. But what a way to go.

  "Old and stoic?"

  Avery snorted indignantly. "No. Confident and well-seasoned, like a cast-iron pan. The type of guy I don't have to draw a map to my dick for."

  He colored as a smirk curled over Ethan's sensual mouth, assuring him that, yep, he had actually said that aloud. Jeeze. Way to send the straight guy running.

  Only, Ethan wasn't running. Instead he took a step closer, sending Avery's world down the rabbit hole.

  "I'm six-three," he said. Avery blinked, and that smile deepened as Ethan continued. "Tom Selleck is six-four. I miss the mark by an inch, but I think that still gives me a pretty good shot. Might have to work a little on the moustache though." One large, calloused hand lightly stroked the neatly trimmed goatee that was a shade lighter than the dark curls falling carelessly over his forehead. "And I have to admit, since I'm eight years older than you are, I seem to like them young."

  Shit. Avery broke eye contact, trying to find something else to focus on--which wasn't too difficult since his neck was all too happy to have a break from looking up. He could still feel the weight of Ethan's gaze on him, and it did nothing to help his sudden fit of anxiety.

  After years of practicing the fine art of flirting, Avery considered himself a pro. Of course the fact that most of his practices had taken place inside his own head didn't really help his current situation.

  Despite his earlier teasing, Avery had never been very good at cruising. There were too many unknowns involved in the mating game, making it too unpredictable for a man who liked things to make sense. It was one of the hazards of having a logical mind that excelled in computer programming where there was usually a clear problem and one solution, but which froze up like Bambi in front of a Buick when other variables came into play.

  Things like a gorgeous, very straight man making a pass at him.

  Avery ventured a wary glance upward, unsure of how to respond when it seemed like it was going to be a full moon kind of day.

  "Ummm..."

  Yea, that was eloquent. Fortunately Ethan took pity on him. Only one dimple appeared this time as he offered a self-conscious smile.

  "I caught you off guard, didn't I? Sorry..." He curved a hand back through his hair, spiking up the short strands. "That sounded way
smoother in my head."

  "It's okay," Avery said, leaning back against the doorway with his arms behind his back so he could pinch himself to make sure he hadn't nodded off again into some bizarre but hot fantasy.

  "I'm just..." Shocked? Elated? Tempted to forever disgrace himself even among twinks everywhere by doing a spazzy, happy dance? "...surprised," he managed to get out. "Hannah and Becca..."

  "Are the only wonderful things to come out of a marriage that was as unfair to Linda as it was to myself," Ethan said. He sighed, glancing over Avery's shoulder a moment as if checking for little ears, his voice lowering to a warm rumble Avery felt down to his toes. "Look, I know how it might seem, Avery, but the fact is that Linda and I had an amicable divorce because we realized we both made mistakes. Mine, by denying what I really want out of life. We're fine. We're still friends."

  He set the cookie boxes down on the porch ledge so that he could close the gap between them a bit more. Even standing on the step below the one Avery was on, he towered over Avery, but there was nothing threatening or intimidating about his body language when he leaned in.

  Avery felt the mild spring temperatures shoot up another ten degrees around them as Ethan dipped his head enough to be able to peer into Avery's face when he spoke, the honest intensity of his expression flipping Avery's heart inside out.

  Ethan was looking at him like his opinion mattered, as if Avery mattered to him. When Ethan's smile warmed, Avery inhaled hard. Jesus the dimples!

  "And the girls know?"

  Ethan's dark head dipped once in the affirmative. "I came out to Linda first, but we waited till two years ago when they turned thirteen to tell them I was gay because they were still adjusting to the divorce and the new living arrangements and we didn't want to overload them." His expression softened for a moment. "They said they already knew. You, apparently, did not."