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  A cute waiter bustled over, all spiked hair and artistic scruff. “Let me tell you about the specials.” He rattled off a dizzying number of dishes as he filled their water glasses. “I’ll give you another few minutes, shall I?”

  He flitted away, and Gideon tried unsuccessfully to focus on the menu—which was freaking impossible because Alex’s calf was rubbing against his shin.

  After Gideon moved his leg away again, Alex frowned and set his water glass down with a thump. “What’s the matter?”

  Gideon blinked at him. “Sorry. The table is so small. I didn’t mean to . . .” Gideon’s eyes widened as he suddenly got the picture. “Wait. That wasn’t— You weren’t— You touched me on purpose?”

  Alex leaned forward, resting his crossed arms on the table, holding eye contact much longer than any straight guy would dare. A smile teased his full lips. “That surprises you?”

  “Well . . . yeah. You’re . . . I mean . . . are you gay?”

  Alex’s smile vanished. He drew back, balling his napkin in his fist. “Jesus, you can be a clueless asshole sometimes, Gideon. And I’m not much better, because I imagined this was a date. Sorry. My mistake.” He stood and tossed his napkin on the table. “I won’t keep you.” He strode out, raising his hand in farewell to Tall Guy.

  “Alex. Wait.” Gideon pushed his chair back and took off after him. As he hurried past the restroom bay, Travis stepped into his path.

  “Wait, G. Will you—”

  “Not now, Travis. God, will you get a freaking clue?” Gideon shouldered him out of the way and followed the retreating triangle of Alex’s back.

  Alex made it to the elevator ahead of him and didn’t hold the door. By the time Gideon waited for it to return and got to the sixteenth floor, Alex was nowhere in sight. In fact, the whole build-out site was deserted—even the napping foreman was gone, so the crew must still have been on dinner break.

  Gideon finally cornered Alex in the server room, where he was winding a stray length of cable in a loop anchored by his left elbow and thumb, the sharp movement of his right arm causing back muscles to flex in a way that made Gideon’s mouth go dry.

  Never really looked at him, did you, bucko? You stopped at his labels—the ones that said “not like you.”

  Had Toshiko been right about Gideon all this time? Was he too quick to judge, too quick to pigeonhole, too quick to stereotype? God, was he actually a bigot? Shame washed through his chest like an ice-water bath.

  “Alex. I’m sorry.”

  Alex’s crisp movements stopped for an instant, like a DVD with a glitch, before he continued, wrapping the end of the cable around the loop to tie it off. “Forget it.”

  “I—I never thought of you like that.”

  “I get it. I’m not up to your standards.”

  “No. I mean, that’s—”

  “Don’t date black dudes?”

  Gideon’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? I’ve dated hundreds—okay, maybe not hundreds, but a lot of men who aren’t WASPs. That’s not the point.”

  “What is, then? Too busy mooning after Haynes?”

  Gideon almost stamped his foot. “I’m not mooning. I never moon. Not with my face anyway. I thought you were straight.”

  “So not only are you moping over the boss, but your gaydar is for shit?”

  He sniffed. “I don’t believe in gaydar. My modus operandi is gay sonar—much more effective. I ping a flirt off a guy and see if I get a response.”

  “How’d you manage to miss me playing footsie with you downstairs? That not enough of a response for you?”

  “I thought it was a mistake.”

  Alex tossed the bundle of cable onto the floor. “Jesus, Gideon.”

  “Besides that, you’re Lindsay’s brother.”

  “So what?”

  “So it’s awkward. If I— God.” This time, Gideon did stamp his foot. “I never thought I’d ever say this, because I thrive on personal drama, but I don’t have time for it right now.”

  “Is that what you call pining after Haynes? Personal drama?”

  He glared at Alex. “I call it nothing, because right now, my professional crisis is center stage in a fricking spotlight. If I don’t get this project finished on time, the only thing I’ll be mooning or moping or pining about will be Wallace Web Design, D-O-effing-A.”

  Geekspeak: Munge

  Definition: The process of merging disparate systems not originally intended to interact; transforming data from one state to another by methods that may not be formal or revocable.

  Alex tossed the cable he’d just wound onto the floor. “So you think cozying up to Haynes will fix that? He didn’t back you up before. What makes you think he ever will?”

  “That was different. He couldn’t interfere. It was a contract thing.”

  “Bullshit. Who signs the fucking contracts? It’s his company.”

  “He delegates. You should understand that much at least.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? That I’m stupid?”

  “No,” Gideon said through clenched teeth. “I mean that’s the way your crew works. The tasks are delegated to the people who have the necessary skills. But once Jared delegates—”

  “‘Jared,’ huh? On a first-name basis, are you?”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Got him lined up as your next two-date target?”

  Gideon froze, eyes widening. “Who told you about that?”

  “Who do you think? Lin, of course. She worries that you’ll end up alone. Maybe I should tell her you’ve already got your eye on a long-term prospect.” Alex snorted. “Though it’s not like Haynes’ll look at you.”

  “Are you insinuating I’m not good enough for—”

  “Simmer down. He won’t look at you because he can’t see anyone but himself.”

  “I— You— Arrgh!” Gideon clutched his hair.

  “Can’t argue with that.” Alex picked up Gideon’s discarded hard hat. “Here. This is required. Better put it on before you get another black mark.”

  Gideon snatched it out of Alex’s hands and clapped it onto his head. Alex winced. That must have hurt. Guess he’d touched a nerve about Haynes and the dating thing.

  A little spurt of evil ignited Alex’s adventure circuits—the same urge that had always gotten him in trouble with his parents or the school authorities—usually with Landon along for the ride. He really shouldn’t indulge, but it had been so long since he’d gotten any kind of break. It’d be downright ungrateful not to take advantage of an opportunity dropped square into his lap.

  Gideon needed help with his project. Alex wanted to spend time with him. Why not make a deal?

  “The way I see it,” Alex drawled, “you’ve got a problem. I just might be able to help you with that.”

  Gideon squinted at him, suspicion written all over his face. Smart man. “I get the feeling there’s a catch.”

  “Not anything outside of your wheelhouse. Or at least not much. I’ll help you complete the project on schedule if you give me the same chance you give any other guy.” Not like Alex had time for more anyway, and maybe this would get Gideon out of his head.

  “I wouldn’t call it a chance. More like a timeshare.”

  “You can call it what you like. I’ll call ’em dates. But I guarantee your project will be finished by your deadline.”

  “You can do that?”

  Alex grinned. “Sure. I’ve got resources. How about it?”

  Gideon was wavering, Alex could tell. He could also tell that he was going to win, because what choice did Gideon have? He was totally out of his comfort zone—with no connections, no crew, no construction experience. Alex held all those cards, and this was his chance to call the hand—to see Gideon rocked off-balance again. In need. Out of his element.

  Touchable.

  “All right. After the project is done.”

  “Uh-uh. We start now. Tomorrow in fact.”

  Gideon widened his eyes, obviously going for Ba
mbi-like innocence. “Don’t you trust me to make good?”

  “No.”

  “Fine. One date, and you help me finish the project.”

  Alex shook his head. “Three.”

  Gideon glared at him. “You’re the one who brought up my two-date max. Two.”

  “Three.”

  “I never—”

  Alex retrieved the cable bundle and slung it over his shoulder. “Good luck with the installation.”

  “Be reasonable.”

  “I don’t have to be. I’ve got something you want. What do they call it? Supply-side economics? Why shouldn’t I get my asking price?”

  Gideon scowled. “Fine. Three.”

  Satisfaction washed through Alex. “Outstanding. What are you into?”

  “No butt sex. Nonnegotiable.”

  Alex’s lips twitched. “Duly noted. Although that wasn’t what I was asking. What do you do for fun?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “So, your dates are always about sex?”

  “Of course. Why else bother?”

  “I don’t know. Amusement. Companionship. Maybe a little conversation.”

  Gideon waved one hand with an extra flick of his fingers. “Irrelevant. For that, I have my darling girls. I don’t need anyone else.”

  We’ll see about that.

  “We can keep this on the down-low if you want. No need to tell Lin.”

  “Why?”

  “You want to tell her you’re dating her big brother?”

  “It’s not like a real date.”

  “You want real help? Then they’d better be real dates.” Alex set the cable down and took a step forward, and Gideon stumbled back, hands up as if to ward off an attack.

  Shit, was that fear in his eyes?

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s . . .” He gulped. “You’re really freaking big.”

  Not much Alex could do about his size—if size was the only problem and not his profession or skin color. Oh what the hell—for now he’d take it at face value.

  “All the better to carry your weight.” Alex wiggled his eyebrows, and as he hoped, Gideon lost his wild-eyed look and huffed, nose in the air.

  “I’ll have you know I’m like an ant. I can carry three times my own weight.” He shrugged, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “Most of the time. So thank you for the help. I . . . I truly appreciate it.”

  Alex rubbed his palms together. “Great. First date tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at noon. We’ll have the meal we missed tonight.”

  “But—”

  “Later. I have to see a man about an HVAC.”

  The next day, while waiting for Alex to pick him up, Gideon practically bounced off the walls of the apartment. He was insane. That was the only explanation. Or else that horrid meeting had thrown him so off-kilter that he’d lost touch with reality. How could he have agreed to a date—no, three dates—with Gigantor, the Space-Age Electrician?

  He’d been lulled, that’s what. Alex had distracted him, first with sympathy and the dinner offer, followed by the Big Gay Reveal. Then, when Gideon was completely discombobulated, Alex had zapped him in the balls with that date double-dog dare.

  Alex was at least ten years older than Mark had been during the great Gideon Loses His Virginity fiasco. That could mean he’d had a decade to settle into jerk-hood—and given this devil’s agreement, that was a distinct possibility. Or else—Gideon swallowed, a teensy thrill buzzing through belly—he had . . . experience.

  Then Gideon remembered another critical factor. Alex was a Henning. Lindsay’s brother. The guy had to be . . . well . . . nice. Maybe Gideon should give him a freaking chance.

  Aww, look at me. Avoiding snap judgments. Tosh would be so proud.

  A knock at the door startled him. People couldn’t get up to the second floor without getting buzzed in. Except Alex is the son of the freaking landlord, idiot. He had to have a key, otherwise he couldn’t have gotten into the upstairs apartment.

  Gideon pasted a smile on his face and opened the door. God, Alex dwarfed the landing, looming like Haystack Rock at low tide. The frantic surf of Gideon’s panic could crash against that stoic calm for millennia and not erode it by a single molecule.

  “Hey.” Alex grinned but didn’t attempt to take Gideon’s hand or kiss him or anything remotely intimate. So why did that grin make Gideon quiver? “You ready?”

  As I’ll ever be. “Sure.”

  Alex let Gideon lead the way downstairs. “I borrowed Lin’s car. Figured you’d like it better than mine.”

  Gideon glanced over his shoulder. “I could drive, you know.”

  That grin again. Shiver. “Nah. You drive a MINI Cooper. I’m not gonna fit in one of those.”

  “Whatever.”

  They didn’t talk much in the car other than some desultory, absolutely neutral chat about the project. Keeping with the program, I guess. Sheesh, was that twinge in his chest disappointment? Surely he didn’t want a more intimate conversation. After all, he never delved further than skin-deep with any of his hookups.

  Except this wasn’t a hookup. It was a date. A real one. Why did that scare him so much? What could happen while they were out in public? He cleared his throat. “So. Where are we going after lunch?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Gideon shot him his best narrow-eyed glare. “I’m not fond of surprises, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “So?”

  “Still not telling you.”

  “Fine.”

  But lunch was . . . nice. Cordial. Cheeseburgers and truffle fries at Little Big Burger. Not as fancy as Double Down, but not McDonald’s either. Alex paid for the meal. Gideon was a little unsettled by not paying his half, but when it came down to it, he didn’t have the money to spare.

  Alex asked him about his company, his time at school, things he and his roommates did together. Nothing too invasive. Alex then reciprocated with several truly hair-raising tales of stunts that he and Tall Guy—whose name was apparently Landon and who was about to become Gideon’s neighbor—had pulled when they were kids.

  By the time they got back in the car, Gideon had started to relax just a smidge. Alex had done nothing to frazzle Gideon’s nerves at all—he hadn’t even staged a repeat of the footsie games under the table.

  But when Alex pulled into a strip mall anchored by a giant bowling alley, Gideon’s misgivings returned.

  Bowling. How blue-collar cliché. If Alex expected to show him up and laugh at a succession of gutter balls, he was SOL. Gideon had totally rocked the bowling league for his high-school academic decathlon team. After all, what was the point of any effort if you weren’t in it to win it?

  “If you’d told me we were going bowling, I would have brought my shoes.”

  “You have your own bowling shoes?”

  “You can’t possibly expect me to wear the rental shoes, can you?”

  “Why not? They’ll go great with those paramecium pants you’re always wearing.”

  “Paramecium? What— Oh. Those hideous paisley jeans. How do you know about paramecia?”

  “Hey, I cut high school biology like everybody else. Let’s go.”

  They got out of the car and walked across the parking lot, Gideon staying a safe three feet away from Alex at all times. But when they got to the sidewalk in front of the storefronts and Gideon turned right toward the bowling alley, Alex turned left.

  “Hellooo, Alex? The bowling alley is this way, unless you know of a secret entrance.”

  “Who said we were going bowling?”

  “You did.”

  “Nope. You assumed. We’re doing something else.”

  Gideon squinted at the signs hanging over the sidewalk: Video poker. Dollar Tree. OLCC liquor store. Tattoo parlor.

  Uh-oh.

  “I am not watching you get a tattoo, nor am I getting one myself.”

  “Jesus, you are a piece of work. We’re not going to the tattoo parlor. Co
me on.”

  Gideon followed, still several steps behind in case Alex had picked an option worse than tattoos. Alex disappeared around the corner, and Gideon scuttled to catch up.

  Alex was standing in front of a frosted glass door with lettering that read NPW. Not exactly helpful or descriptive. “Trust me?”

  “Not on your life.”

  Alex grinned. “Probably just as well, but you’re safe here. Go on in.” He opened the door and gestured for Gideon to enter.

  Edging forward, Gideon peered around the door. “You’re kidding. An art gallery?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “You seem—”

  “Not the artsy type?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you thought it. Better get over these snap judgments.” Alex jerked his head toward the gallery. “Are you going inside or are we gonna stand here and let November in instead?”

  “Sorry.” For a lot. God, I really am a prejudiced asshole. He scurried inside.

  The place was bigger than it had seemed from the sidewalk, with large, white floating panels to break up the space and display the current exhibit of black-and-white photography.

  Alex led the way past the wood-paneled reception desk. “I’ve been a fan of this photographer for a long time. He does great nature stuff too, but I’ve been waiting for this portrait exhibit for years. I’m pumped that it’s finally ready to show.”

  “Have you seen any of the work before?”

  Hands in his pockets, Alex wandered over to a large print of an older man holding a baby. “Nah. I wanted to save it to see with someone special.”

  Gideon stopped, his hand drifting to his chest. God. Did Alex even realize what he’d said? Probably not, but that didn’t stop the warm fuzzies from invading Gideon’s middle. Here he was with a totally nice guy. They’d had a nice lunch, were spending a nice afternoon. True, hip-checking his own biases had been a tad uncomfortable, but he’d never experienced anything this good with any other man—not even with Mark before the butt-sex disaster.

  Maybe this date-for-labor thing would turn out okay.

  Geekspeak: Banner Blindness

  Definition: The tendency of users to ignore website banner ads, whether consciously or subconsciously, and whether the banner contains the information they seek.