Sexy Chase Aubrey plays blues guitar like nobody's business. One look at him performing at a New York nightclub, and twenty-year-old keyboard player Brian Barclay's smitten.
However, Brian remains true to his boyfriend Kit-until Kit cheats on him and steals all the songs they’ve written together. With nowhere else to go, Brian turns to his estranged father, Trevor, and Trevor’s partner, Cameron. But even Cameron can’t smooth over the tension between father and son.
Brian’s in need of a friend, and Chase fills the role nicely-and quickly heats up the sheets with him as well. The passion between them is mind-blowing, until Brian discovers Chase’s secret past. A past he’s run from for years. And when the past threatens the present, Brian can’t help wondering if the love of his life has played him for a fool.
Bio:
Cat Grant lives by the sea in beautiful Monterey, California, with a persnickety feline and way too many books and DVDs. When she's not writing, she enjoys watching the Winchester boys and burning her own dinner. :)
To catch up with Cat, you can visit with her at:
A Fool For You Excerpt
They pulled around the back of the apartment building and parked in the lot. Chase started to climb out of the car, but Brian just sat there, thumb flicking the door latch. “Um…maybe we should rethink this.”
Chase stared at him. “We drove all the way over here, and now you don’t want to get your stuff?”
“Sure I do. I just don’t want to end up in jail again.”
“Look, we’ll try your key. If it works, fine. If it doesn’t, we walk away. I’m sure as hell not gonna break in. Okay?”
“Okay.” Deep breath, then Brian got out and followed Chase to the building’s front door. Luckily, the foyer was deserted, with nobody hanging around the candy and soda machines or picking up their mail. First time Brian had ever been grateful the management was too damn cheap to hire a doorman.
The elevators were working—for once—but they took the stairs instead, three flights up, then crept down the hallway as quietly as possible. Brian’s fingers had gone ice-cold, so Chase took the key from him and stuck it in the lock. The tumblers clicked as he twisted the key with one hand and the knob with the other. The door swung open.
They waited until they were both safely inside before flicking on the lights. “Jesus,” Chase muttered. “Welcome to slob central.”
Brian’s eyes practically popped out of his head. Looked as if a tornado had torn through the place. Dirty plates, beer bottles, soda cans and a couple of empty pizza boxes littered the kitchen table and counter. Clothes were scattered all over the sofa, floor and bed. A whiff of body odor wafted up from the nearest rumpled pile, making his eyes water. If any of his things had gotten mixed up in there, too bad. No way was he pawing through that mess.
His keyboards leaned against the far wall, still in their cases. A quick look inside told Brian they were exactly as he’d left them. Thank God. “They’re fine,” he said as Chase came over to give him a hand. “If you find an acoustic guitar, it’s mine too.”
“I’ll look for it. Why don’t you gather up your clothes while I start carrying your instruments down to the car? It’s gonna take a couple trips.”
Brian nodded and trudged over to the closet, relieved to see his jeans, t-shirts and leather jacket still hanging there. He grabbed his old army surplus duffle bag off the top shelf and started throwing all his stuff in it, including his extra pair of sneakers and black patent Docs. He’d finished packing up by the time Chase returned from his first run down to the car. While Chase carried his piano, Brian slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and grabbed his guitar case. Then they headed out.
Their walk back down the hallway felt like some weird, surreal dream. Any second Brian expected one of the other apartment doors to fly open and someone to start screaming, “Stop! Thief!”. But nothing happened. They took the elevator down this time, and even then it was deadly quiet, except for the distant whirr and clunk of the cable. He was half convinced they’d find themselves face-to-face with Kit and Stewart when the door opened, but they weren’t there. The coast really was clear.
They stowed everything securely in the SUV’s trunk, then climbed into the front seat. Brian let out the world’s most relieved sigh. “I can’t believe we just did that. Or that it was so easy.”
“After the shitty last couple of days you’ve had, you deserve easy.” Chase laughed. “In a manner of speaking.”
Brian laughed too, until he caught a glimpse of something familiar out of the corner of his eye, and immediately froze. A battered old white van with blacked-out windows. “Shit! That looks like Kit’s car!” It passed by close enough for the driver to see them. Brian slumped in his seat, yanking up the hood of his jacket. “C’mon, let’s get the hell out of here.”
“I can’t back out, they’re blocking me.”
Oh God. Oh Jesus. He should’ve known better than to let Chase talk him into this. “I’m dead. I’m fucking dead. My dad’s gonna kill me, if Kit doesn’t pound my ass into dust first—”
“Just chill, okay? They’re turning around.” Chase leaned forward, trying to get a better look out of the SUV’s rear window. “Where’d he buy the van?”
Huh? “What the fuck difference does that make?”
“Just answer me. New York or Toronto?”
“Toronto. We drove it down here.”
“It’s got New York plates. It’s not him.”
For a minute Brian thought for sure he’d pissed his pants. Then, when Chase winked at him, he realized he’d just been punked. He let out a bark of relieved laughter, punching Chase hard in the shoulder. “You fucking jerk! You knew it wasn’t him from the start, didn’t you?”
“I figured it was fifty-fifty. This neighborhood’s lousy with white utility vans.” His tone sounded perfectly casual, until he had to go and smile that gorgeous, knee-melting smile that made Brian glad he was sitting down. “Sorry to make you squirm. Even if you are pretty damn cute doing it.”
He’d leaned in close enough for Brian to feel the soft, warm puff of his breath on his cheek. It tickled, and sent a blush creeping up from his throat. “Y-You think I’m cute?”
“Like you haven’t noticed.”
“But…I’m too young for you. That’s what you said, anyway.”
“My exact words were, ‘I’m way too old for you.’ But I’ve had time to reconsider. You drove out here with me tonight to reclaim a piece of your life. That took guts. Wish I’d been more like you when I was your age.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”
“I am.” And then he hooked a finger under Brian’s chin and kissed him.
At first Brian was more stunned than anything else, but when it finally dawned that yes, Chase actually wanted him, Brian wound his fingers in his hair and held on. Chase was one hell of a fine kisser, passionate yet patient, his tongue flicking against Brian’s lips before teasing its way inside. He had a sharp, bittersweet flavor, just like the coffee they’d drunk earlier. He delved deep, then eased off, giving them both room to breathe. Offering Brian an out. When Brian refused to let go, Chase kissed him again, arms wrapping around his waist. God. A few moments of contact, and they were both rock hard.
When Melissa from WereVampsRomance came around asking questions, Lawrence from “The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf: A New Orleans Threesome” did his best to ignore her. But with her kind words about how his story kept her up to the “wee-hours of the morning” and “fogged up her reading glasses,” and her promises not to reveal his true nature to those who don’t “understand” the world of The Others, she won him over.
