St. Nacho's 4: The Book of Daniel by Z. A. Maxfield Page A

it?”
    “Well, she said it was easy, and it was. She climbed up first even though she was in a skirt and heels. I stayed there to think. I’ll bet she guessed you’d show up, and along you came, right on cue. Are you some tree-hugging horndog? Or is that tree your particular favorite? I guess I can ask around at Nacho’s if you don’t want to answer that. Anyway, she must have wanted me to see you, although I can’t think why…except…”
    Cam flushed a dull red, and I thought he might be angry. “Except what ?”
    “She might have tumbled to the fact that I like to see you smile,” I admitted. “Although I think she might have taken that a little further than—”
    “Wait… You like to see me smile?”
    I shrugged. “But maybe not—preferably—because of a public sex act.”
    Cam closed his eyes when I said that.
    “I’m just sayin’. You know. Against a tree and all.”
    He waved that off. “Everyone does that.”
    “I don’t.” Well, I hadn’t done exactly that. That didn’t mean if Cam invited me I wouldn’t. I guess Cam realized how hypocritical that was at about the same time I did, because he was quick to comment on it. “That’s because you don’t want to get caught.”
    “And you do?”
    “I guess you don’t have to worry about your wife anymore. Or the financial repercussions of cheating on her.”
    I knew he was probably talking about the prenup Bree and I had—which only she’d been caught breaking. We’d both violated it. My brother Jake had an awfully big mouth.
    Cam dragged his fingers through his short hair and walked toward the kitchen. “You want a cup of coffee or something?”
    “Is this an over coffee thing?” I asked, following him. His place was damn nice. It looked professionally decorated—like it came straight out of Everyday Living magazine. Who knew ? His loopy fire cat/dog rubbed up against my leg along the way.
    While Cam added water to the reservoir of his coffee pot, he said, “I talked to your brother a lot when he first came to town. He was getting together with JT, you know? I guess I have one of those faces. Or maybe I was the one person who wasn’t afraid to tell him what I thought about men who go out publicly with girls and then get off with guys in private. The subject of your marriage might have come up.”
    So. Jake really had told Cam all about me. I’d given Jake a ration about JT being in the closet too. I’d just come out to him and—at the time—JT’s behavior seemed duplicitous. I recognized it pretty easily since I was guilty of the same thing.
    “You warned Jake off JT?”
    “Yes. A few times actually.” Cam grimaced at some memory or other.
    “Yet now you’re JT’s best man. What happened?’
    “I didn’t blame JT for being afraid. But he still could just as easily have thrown everything Yasha had to offer away because he was worried what people might think. I didn’t want Yasha to get hurt. JT is on the level, now anyway.”
    If I condemned JT, I condemned myself by extrapolation. “No one can know what he was thinking, though,” I hedged.
    “Uh, yeah, we can.” Cam put the pot beneath the grounds with a clank . “A guy like that”—he looked pointedly at me—“is only thinking about how he can get what he wants without having to live with the consequences. He’s thinking, I can lie, cheat, screw around, and deceive everyone, and as long as I don’t get caught, I’m golden .”
    “That’s a little harsh.”
    “The truth hurts sometimes.” He watched steam puff up from his coffeemaker.
    It was pretty obvious the truth had hurt me in Cam’s eyes. I wasn’t proud of what I’d done. I’d married a woman although I identify as gay, and I cheated on my wife more than once. I’d gone the route of paying for men or tricking anonymously so I would never get emotionally involved, and I’d convinced myself it was perfectly all right, even legitimately kind, to do it that way.
    What a crock of shit.
    I