“Mama, come on. I’m fine. Not everyone’s meant to settle down and get married. I’ve told you that.”
“You’re not everyone.” A stubborn note crept into her voice. “You’re my son—a wonderful man who deserves love. You have to give it a chance is all I’m sayin’. And I know you’re not.”
“Grace. The boy called to say hello, not get a lecture. Leave him be.”
Always grateful for his father’s steadiness, Adam took the time to breathe deeply and cool his annoyance. “Mama. I have friends, and I love my job. I go out. I’m not interested in a relationship is all. What did you always say—once you found Daddy, you knew that was it for you? Well, I had my one and done. Now I’m living every day to the fullest. So Iamloving my life. I don’t have to beinlove to do it.”
Hearing her sniffle on the other end of the line hurt. There were no two people he loved more than his parents; they’d helped him through his darker times and couldn’t have been prouder when he was accepted to the FDNY, even though they’d much rather he’d remained close to home. He’d listened to their pleading but stayed strong, and that meant leaving home with all the memories tugging at his coattails, threatening to pull him back into the abyss. Adam might’ve only been seventeen, but his joy in life as he knew it had been extinguished in a dusty barn that long-ago April morning.
“Now, I gotta go. I’ll call you at the end of the week. Okay?”
“I love you. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“You didn’t. I know you want what’s best for me, and right now I’m doing it. So don’t worry.”
He hung up and finished his coffee, stretching as a patch of sun hit his back, warming him. His body ached in that bone-deep way one only felt after a night of uninhibited sex. Rico had proved to be an amazing lover: rough when he sensed Adam needed it, yet tender and sweet at times that even now made him long to be held. Frustrated and a bit annoyed with the way Rico sneaked out of his apartment, Adam picked up his phone and punched in Rico’s number. Not surprisingly, after several rings, the call went to voicemail.
“Not gonna get rid of me that easy.” Adam pushed up from the table, and after grabbing his wallet and keys, took his jacket and left his apartment. Despite his earlier words to his mother, Adam had every intention of learning more about what made the mysterious Rico Estevez so very damn appealing. He’d thought a night together would’ve diminished his desire for Rico, but it’d had the opposite effect.
Adam wanted him more than ever. One night wasn’t nearly enough.
*
Getting to CarrollGardens from his Bay Ridge apartment took a couple of trains and over an hour due to delays. It might’ve been years since he left Texas, but Adam hadn’t yet gotten used to the crazy hustle of the city, and when he finally made it above ground, he needed a moment to breathe some fresh air. One of the best things about his job was the house he worked in—a small, almost homey firehouse incorporated into the neighborhood. Adam really felt a part of the close Brooklyn community. He loved when the kids on the block came over tooohandahhover the trucks, remembering the bond it created when he was young with not only his father but the job when he visited his hometown firehouse as a child. Those happy memories were what spurred him to be a firefighter when he grew up.
The early afternoon sun streaked through the leaves of the tree-lined streets, and he smiled at the people tending their gardens or sitting on their stoops for a chat. For all that New York could be a cold, anonymous place, these outer-borough enclaves were populated by close-knit families, many of whom had lived and worked there for generations and watched out for each other.
“Hey, Adam. Day off?”
Vincent DeCarlo, or “Mr. D” as everyone called the diminutive man, put down his gardening shears. Adam knew the unofficial “Mayor of Carroll Gardens” loved tending to his vegetable garden as well as his roses, and the firehouse often reaped the rewards of his homegrown bounty of tomatoes, zucchini, and string beans. And nothing went on there, especially on his block, without Mr. D knowing about it. He lost a son and a nephew in the 9/11 attacks, and Adam had the highest respect for the man and always made it a point to stop and chat.
“Sure is, Mr. D. I’m heading over to the Garden of Eat-In. Can I get you anything? A corned beef sandwich? Cookies?”
Adam grinned, already knowing Mr. D’s response. They played this game at least two to three times a week.
“You can bring me a few of those cookies with the jelly in the middle. But don’t tell my wife. She thinks I need to watch my weight.”
And as always, Adam gave him a wink and a nod. “No problem. I’ll keep it just between us guys.”
“Attaboy.”
Adam continued down the block until he reached the corner, then stood waiting for the light to change; he’d yet to learn to jaywalk like a true New Yorker and often found himself left standing while others raced across the street. The royal-blue storefront sign with the white lettering stood out, and through the window Adam saw a few customers waiting in line. When the light turned green, he crossed the street and entered the store. The scent of roasted meats, coupled with the vanilla cinnamon of the baked goods he knew Rico prepared, had him salivating. The bagel he’d eaten only an hour before seemed very long ago, and Adam eyed the glass-front counter with its various dishes, deciding what he’d buy for dinner that night.
“Next.” The cashier, Sean, grinned. “Hey, how are you? Not fighting fires today?”
“Not today.” Well, not unless Rico tried to ignore him. “Your boss in?”
“Which one?” Sean glanced over his shoulder, his curly brown hair sticking out from under his New York Mets cap. “Gideon’s elbow-deep in brisket, and Rico’s in his office, doing paperwork.”
Good. He could corner Rico and make him talk. Or something.
“Rico. It’s okay if I go back, right? I want to ask him a question.”
Or maybe kiss him. ’Cause damn, that man could kiss.
“Um, yeah. I guess.”
“Excuse me. Can I get some turkey breast?” A customer shuffled impatiently behind him, and Adam took the opportunity to escape to the back of the store.
