Star spangled showdown, p.17
Star-Spangled Showdown, page 17
Meeting someone on a business trip: sure, that could happen.
That someone being a man: he could deal with that, especially at this point in his life.
That someone being a corporate rival: what the actual fuck?
That someone making him feel something he’d never experienced…
He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. And continued to think about Owen. Things were fun with Owen, even work things. Even Dom himself. And Dom didn’t have all that much in his life that felt fun.
Sure, his kids were fun, but they were also a lot of work. With the divorces and Heather moving Kayley and Harley down to the Nashville area, it took a lot of arranging and coordinating of schedules for him to be able to see them.
Being with Owen was easy. Conversations flowed naturally, always lightly tainted with a competitive edge that Dom appreciated. And the sex was good, astoundingly good. They each seemed to pull something out of the other, something that hadn’t been given much chance to breathe. Dom really wanted to see where that might take them.
He started to harden at the thought of more sweaty, sticky nights spent with Owen, and he shifted position. What would it be like to come home to Owen at the end of a day or after a business trip, without the shadow of a looming Williamsville decision hanging over them?
Unless there was a different shadow in the future. Perhaps the shadow of the decision Williamsville had made.
How would Dom handle it if Owen won the Williamsville contract? It would break his win streak, which, according to Eric, wasn’t all that impressive anyway because those wins didn’t come with much profit. But how would he feel personally? He considered the scenario, unsure how long it would take the city council and mayor to make a decision. Most likely, he wouldn’t be in Williamsville with Owen when the decision was made. He wouldn’t even be with Owen in some other city.
A wash of sadness and longing swept through him. Would it matter to Owen which of them won the contract? It might. He had family relationships tied up in the business side of things. Dom couldn’t imagine Owen closing himself off should he lose the bid, but family pressure was a very different beast.
His phone buzzed and Dom quickly picked it up from the desk, hoping to see a message from Owen. But it was a text from Henry. How’s the presentation coming along?
Dom made a face and looked at the screen of his laptop where he’d left a sentence dangling in the middle of a thought. He wrote back: It’s getting there.
Need some help with it?
Don’t tell me you’re in the office on Fourth of July.
We work for a fireworks company. It’s pretty much expected. Get your earbuds in, I’m calling you in thirty seconds.
“All right,” Dom muttered to himself as he dug his earbuds case out of his messenger bag. “Head in the game, Dominick. Time to get to work.”
He’d just gotten the left earbud settled—realizing he needed to trim the hair inside his ear, getting old really sucked—when the familiar ringtone sounded: a snippet of Flight of the Bumblebee in a nod to Henry’s furiously busy mind.
“Hey there,” Dom said.
“Hi,” Henry’s deep voice rumbled into his ear. “So, catch me up. How are things going with Owen Gillespie?”
A cold rush of panic went through Dom. What did Henry know? It was followed almost immediately by a flush of heat at the memories of what he and Owen had done the night before. And that morning.
“Uh…” Dom managed, but a mental breaker kept being thrown as his mind flipped through hot, sweaty images, preventing him from completing a thought.
“That bad, huh?” Henry said.
Or that good, Dom thought. Like too good too fast.
“Dom?”
Right, Henry. And then he recalled talking with Henry about Owen and Henry providing him some details. “Sorry, I got, um, distracted by something outside the window. Things with Owen are…” Maddening. Concerning. Overwhelming. “…Progressing.”
“Progressing? What does that mean? You almost make it sound like you’re working as a team on this or something.”
We’ve flip-flopped being the bottom, if that counts, Dom thought. “No no, nothing like that,” he said with a breathless laugh. “It’s just gotten kind of complicated.”
Henry’s simple “Huh,” spoke volumes without him having to say anything more.
It got to Dom so much, he told Henry most of it, leaving out his and Owen’s personal competitions and sexual relationship. But the rest came spilling out: the mayor seeing them talking; her pitting them against one another in city events. And now Owen was ahead by one event, and Dom was trying to figure out what event the mayor might choose for them to compete in today.
“Holy crap,” Henry said when Dom paused to take a breath. “The mayor sounds like she’s really into this. Do you think that could play into our favor somehow?”
“I don’t know how it would,” Dom said. “She just seems to be enjoying the competitiveness of our association.”
“Association? That’s an interesting word choice.” Henry paused a moment, and Dom could almost hear his mind clicking through information across the line. Finally, Henry asked in a quiet, almost gentle tone, “Is Gillespie staying at the Inn as well?”
“Um, yeah. As a matter of fact, he is. He’s down the hall from me.” Dom made a face, not sure why he had felt the need to add that last part. “But we don’t see each other much. In the halls.” That part wasn’t a lie. They saw each other in the lobby and at breakfast and in each other’s room. Not that often in the hallway.
Dom’s stomach felt tight and a persistent buzzing started in the back of his mind.
“Huh.” Henry’s single word said more than anything how well Dom’s response had gone over.
“So, anyway, how about that presentation, huh?” Dom said, trying to shift the conversation back to work and away from the messy personal entanglements he’d managed to spin the last few days.
“Dom, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Are you…” Henry stopped, and Dom waited breathlessly until he finished his question. “Are you shadowing Owen as a way of interviewing with his family’s company?”
Relief bubbled up inside him, pushing ahead of it a manic-sounding giggle. What the hell? Since when did he giggle?
Since he met Owen Gillespie, he supposed.
“Henry… No. I can assure you, I am not shadowing Owen as some kind of interview process. I am legitimately trying to get a signature from the mayor and city council here for Prestige to get the contract.”
“Okay. Well, that’s a relief.” Henry chuckled, and Dom heard him shuffle papers and wondered if he’d been taking notes about their call. “So, how do you want to do this work on your presentation? Do you want to jump on a Teams call and share your screen?”
“Yeah, it would be easiest.”
“All right. Boot your laptop up and I’ll chat with you in a bit.”
“You got it,” Dom said, then, on impulse, added, “and thanks, Henry.”
“You’re welcome. That’s what I’m here for.”
The call ended, and Dom fished his laptop out of his bag and got it set up on the desk. He thought about Owen, about their nights together, and wondered what he was going to do once all his work in Williamsville was completed, no matter the outcome.
Chapter Nineteen
The Fourth of July had turned into a real scorcher, and by the time Owen arrived at the park, his polo stuck to his back. He removed his Mets hat to wipe sweat from his brow as he dodged through the crowd, even bigger than previous days. He put his hat back on, hoping it would act as a beacon as he looked for Dom’s familiar Yankees hat. Both of them had been busy working on their presentations, and Dom had finally suggested they get lunch on their own and meet at the park.
Owen hadn’t paid much attention to the cold knot of worry deep in his gut. He’d focused instead on incorporating Diane’s suggestions into what he’d already written. But now that he was away from his computer, surrounded by people, he wondered if Dom’s suggestion marked the beginning of the end for them. Had the world outside the strange bubble they’d created already begun to creep back in around the edges?
“Metsie!”
As if he’d been queued in a movie, Dom’s voice broke into Owen’s thoughts, bringing him to a stop in the middle of the crowd. He felt himself smiling big as he turned in place, looking in all directions for the source of the ridiculous and amazing nickname. He saw Dom wave a hand over the heads of the crowd from where he stood by a cotton candy booth, and Owen worked his way over.
Dom grinned around a huge, fluffy cloud of red cotton candy. Wisps of it were stuck in the whiskers around his mouth, and his lips were stained red, and Owen wanted to take him by the hand and drag him back to the Inn where they could fuck each other until they forgot about contracts and fireworks and monthly sales quotas.
“Is that your lunch?” Owen asked with a laugh.
“It’s my dessert,” Dom said, then stuck out his glorious and bright red tongue to pull in another hunk of the stuff. “I had a take-out portion of ribs from that place we ate last night.” He leaned in and lowered his voice, and Owen could smell the sweetness of the cotton candy on his breath. “It wasn’t the same without you.”
Owen’s heart hammered and he licked his lips. “Yeah? I’m sorry I missed it.”
Dom straightened up and nodded. “Me, too. But I got my presentation wrapped up for tomorrow. I hope you got a lot of work done, too.”
“I did. I’m all set for tomorrow as well.”
Mayor Debra Hollingsworth stepped up beside them, materializing out of the crowd dressed in a red pleated skirt topped by a lightweight navy blazer over a white button-down shirt. Her smile was big and genuine as she greeted the couple working the cotton candy booth, reaching across the table to shake their hands. She made a couple of jokes about wearing the cotton candy directly on her hips before she turned to them. Owen thought her happy and polite smile might have slipped into something a little more predatory.
“Hello, gentlemen. Happy Fourth of July.”
“Happy Fourth of July, Ms. Mayor,” Owen said.
“Oh, now Owen, we know each other much too well for you to refer to me in that manner. Call me Debra.”
“That’s right, sorry,” Owen said. “You just look so official and festive today.”
Debra held her arms up and moved her hips to allow her skirt to swing around her legs. “Oh, this old getup?”
They all laughed, and then Debra expertly maneuvered herself between them and linked an arm with each of them. She started them moving, heading toward the activity field.
“How limber are you gentlemen feeling today?”
Owen chuckled, but even to him it sounded nervous. “Why? Is today a gymnastics competition?”
Debra laughed and momentarily tightened her arm on his. “I just love your dry sense of humor. Not gymnastics, no.” They’d reached the edge of the activities field and Debra stopped, pulling both their arms in tight against her sides. Over her head, Owen saw Dom flail his free arm a bit to keep his balance, the half-eaten fluff of cotton candy nearly smacking a passing man in the face. “This is what it’s all been building up to.”
Owen looked out over the activity field and screwed up his face in confusion. “I don’t get it.”
Debra giggled. “It’s everything you’ve done the past week, all rolled into one. Oh, plus sack races at the end.”
“It’s the boss level obstacle course,” Dom said with a tired sigh. He caught Owen’s surprised look over the top of Debra’s head. “What? I play video games with my kids, I know what a boss level is.”
“Okay, defensive Dom,” Owen said with a chuckle. “No need to get all high and mighty.”
Still keeping their arms locked in her own, Debra verbally talked them through the course. “You ran an obstacle course this week, which Owen won.”
“Thank you,” Owen said.
“Whatever,” Dom muttered.
“But this is a very different version. First, you will compete in a water balloon toss, but with a target bucket instead of a partner. Once you hit the bucket, you will walk an egg across the field to the start of the obstacle course. If you drop the egg on your way, you need to start over. You will run the obstacle course, then get into the burlap sack waiting at the end and hop your way back to the finish line.” Debra sighed. “It’s going to be glorious.”
“Going to take all day to get everyone to go through that,” Owen said.
“Oh, whoever signs up does it at the same time,” said Debra. “It’s going to be a great, grand mash up of people trying to get through the obstacle course.”
“You are a bloodthirsty queen,” Dom said, but Owen recognized the impressed smirk he was giving her. “I like it.”
“I thought you might, Mr. Mitchell.”
“Oh, we know each other far too well for that. Call me Dom.”
“Oh, please,” Owen said with a roll of his eyes.
Debra laughed again but finally released their arms and took a step away, before turning to face them. “Limber up, gentlemen. The event will start in fifteen minutes. I’ve already put your names on the list, so when Jess calls for participants to get in line, you just have to show up.” She looked between them both, smiling big. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Owen said. She walked off and he found Dom giving him a steady look. “What?”
“Just looking.” He licked the last of the cotton candy from the long paper cone, slowly running his tongue up the side.
Owen shook his head and tried to look unimpressed although heat pooled in his belly. “That’s cheating.”
“Is it? Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to distract you.” Dom moved a step closer and lowered his voice as he stared into Owen’s eyes. “Did it remind you of fucking my face and shooting your wad down my throat?”
“You’re an ass.”
“You were balls deep inside mine last night, yes.”
Owen let out an involuntary sound, a grunt mixed with an ‘oof’ of surprise. He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. “You’re not going to distract me, Yankster.”
“Aren’t I, Metsie? Not even when I remind you of the double hand job you delivered?”
“You’re awful.”
“I’ll remind you of that later tonight when I’m smacking your ass pink as I fuck you into the mattress.”
Owen’s breath left his chest in a rush. “Jesus.”
Dom cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah. Just wanted to let you know how serious I am about winning this event. I want another go at that tight, beautiful ass of yours.”
Owen’s voice sounded nothing like his own as he whispered, “Dom…”
“Good afternoon, everyone, and Happy Independence Day!” Jess’s amplified voice broke through the intense bubble that had formed around them.
Dom squinted in Jess’s direction. “I really want to hide the batteries for that bullhorn.”
Owen’s brain no longer seemed able to formulate words, much less put them together in coherent sentences. He had to settle for a quick nod before Jess explained the event to the crowd. What would become of them once this week was over?
“You ready, Metsie?”
“I’ve been ready all week.”
With a smug grin, Dom leaned in a bit. “You’re not going to be ready for what I have planned.”
“You’re not going to distract me.”
“We’ll see.”
By the end of the event, Owen knew he’d been distracted.
While neither of them finished first, Dom managed to finish five spots ahead of Owen. Until the potato sack race, Owen had been slightly ahead. But a gawky teenage boy, basically just all arms and legs, took a bad hop and stumbled into Owen, sending them both to the ground. Owen didn’t think he’d ever forget the sound of Dom’s ecstatic cackle as he’d hopped past to cross the finish line ahead of him.
Once Owen had made sure the kid was okay, he got back on his feet. With the rough edge of the potato sack gripped tight in his hands, he hopped to the finish line himself. Just on the other side, Dom waited, arms crossed over his puffed-out chest as he smiled in a very self-satisfied manner.
“Welcome to the other side of the finish line,” Dom said. “I think you’ll like it here.”
Owen dropped his potato sack and stepped out of it, surprised when one of Jess’s staff immediately grabbed it and whisked it away. He crossed his own arms as he looked back at Dom.
“I do like it here, but the neighbors leave something to be desired.”
“There won’t be anything left to be desired after I’m done with you tonight.”
“Jesus Christ,” Owen whispered. “Where do you come up with these lines?”
Dom shrugged. “They just come to me. Like dad jokes when I’m around my kids.”
“Did you just compare dirty things you say to me to dad jokes you tell your kids?” Owen said, then sneered. “Gross.”
Dom laughed and Owen enjoyed seeing him blush as well. At that moment, Debra approached with a big smile.
“Looks like Dom managed to tie things up between you two,” she said.
Owen could almost hear Dom thinking, Not like I’m going to tie Owen up later tonight.
“That means we’ll need a tie-breaker.”
Owen exchanged a pained look with Dom. “I hope it’s not another obstacle course.”
“Oh no, something much simpler than that,” Debra said, then paused for dramatic effect as she looked back and forth between them. “How about Rock, Paper, Scissors?”
After a relieved laugh, Owen looked at Dom again. “I’m game. How about you, Dom? Feeling lucky?”
“Oh, I’m feeling very lucky,” Dom said, with that satisfied smile back on his extremely kissable lips.
“Let’s do this then,” Debra said, waving Jess over as an impartial witness.
Owen and Dom squared off and put their hands out. Debra counted them down and they went through three rounds in rapid succession, Dom coming out the victor as he threw paper which covered Owen’s rock.
