“In a while.”
“You want me to start something for dinner? Or we could order in?”
There was a distinctive retching sound from the other side ofthe door, the noise that came from a stomach that had already thoroughly emptied and was now trying to eject itself from its host body.
“You’re pretty sick.” Ben wasn’t sure if Uncle Calvin was in any condition to reply—probably easiest if he wasn’t. “And it came on pretty fast, which is kind of scary. I have no idea what symptoms we should be looking for to be sure it’s not something serious,but that’s okay, because we happen to live in a community with a significant number of experts on that topic. We call them doctors.” Another gagging sound. “I’m going to call over to the clinic and ask for some advice. You’re okay with that, right?”
And Ben left before giving Uncle Calvin a chance to pull himself together and reply. He had his phone out on the way down the stairs and had alreadydialed before he made it to the kitchen where Liam was waiting, concern clear on his face.
It was amazing how the usual rounds of bureaucracy seemed to melt away once Ben mentioned he was calling on Calvin’s behalf, and within a minute or two he’d been assured that Calvin’s regular doctor would call back as soon as possible, even though it was a weekend. Ben sipped the beer he was holding and—wait.How the hell was he holding a beer?
He looked over and saw a matching bottle in Liam’s hand. Liam had opened beers for both of them, given one to Ben—and Ben hadn’t even noticed? Maybe he was too caught up in worrying about Uncle Calvin, but maybe Liam was just that damn smooth.
Or maybe the two of them were just comfortable together, just that natural. But Ben couldn’t let his thoughts wanderin that direction.
“Kurt Mason’s going to call.” And just because they had to talk about something, he added, “He was a couple years behind us at school. Do you remember him? Small kid, red hair? Weird to think he’s adoctornow.”
“I like my doctors in their forties. Old enough to know what’s going on, young enough to still be on top of things.”
“Uncle Calvin likes his doctors younger thanhim so he can boss them around.”
“From what I remember of Kurt Mason, I’m not sure he’d be all that easy to boss.”
“Yeah, Uncle Calvin’s plan kind of backfired on that one.” Ben grinned and sipped his beer. “I’m not sure what we should be doing in the meantime. Should I be up there sitting outside the bathroom door, listening to him puke in case he asks for help? Or should I give the poor mana little privacy?”
“No idea.” Liam made it sound like commiseration rather than dismissal. “If it was me, I think I’d want the privacy… but not if I was having a heart attack or something.”
“Do heart attacks make you puke?”
“I have no idea about that either.” Liam pulled out his phone, obviously ready for some research, and Ben managed to resist the urge to peer over Liam’s shoulder, callingup a browser on his own phone instead.
They’d only been searching for a couple minutes when there was a knock on the front door and a male voice called out, “Hello? It’s Kurt Mason. Calvin? Ben? Can I come in?”
“Kurt!” Ben strode out to the front hall, vaguely aware of Liam trailing behind him. “I expected a call, but not ahousecall.”
“I was on the way home from the golf course.” Kurt gestureddown at his clothes. “I may not look too professional, but I’ve got my bag with me, and—holy shit. Liam? Liam Marshall?”
And there it was. The familiar admiration that came far too close to hero worship. As if Liam was something special, something more important than other people in his surroundings. Kurt was adoctor.He saved lives. And he was excited that some stupid architect was back intown?
But it wasn’t professional admiration, and Ben knew it. Knew it because he’d felt it himself for too damn long. Liam was magnetic, charismatic—beautiful. It wasn’t sexual—or at least, notonlysexual. It was just pure charisma, and it was all the more effective because he didn’t seem to use it to his advantage. At least not most of the time.
“Uncle Calvin’s upstairs in the bathroom,” Bensaid. They needed to keep things moving in the right direction. “I can take you up there.”
Kurt nodded, clearly called back to his official capacity, but he grinned at Liam as he passed and reached out to clap him on the shoulder. “Good to see you,” Kurt said, and he made it sound like this casual interaction had made his damn week.
It wasn’t that Ben was jealous, exactly. He was just—well,he had no idea what he was. And he shouldn’t be getting distracted by any of that anyway.
So he stood and listened while Kurt tried sweet-talking Uncle Calvin into opening the bathroom door and then resorted to threats to call the fire department to have them break it down, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing and no, there’d be no financial compensation for the repairs. Finally, there was a click,and Kurt was able to turn the doorknob.
“Wait downstairs, okay?” he told Ben. “Close enough that you can hear me if I call, but far enough away that Calvin can have some privacy.”
“The backyard,” Uncle Calvin croaked. “Wait in the backyard.”
“Downstairs is fine,” Kurt said firmly. Then he slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Ben obediently headed downstairs, where he foundLiam waiting for him with two bottles of beer, one in each hand. He wordlessly handed Ben’s to him and said, “We just wait?”
And that was what they did. They stood there at the bottom of the stairs like two anxious fathers awaiting news from the same delivery room, and at some point they finished their beers and Liam got them new ones, and muted voices filtered down to them from above, loud enoughto hear that Kurt was doing most of the talking, but too quiet to be sure just what he was saying.
