Page 9 of Finding Michael

Chapter Three

Tristan woke in the middle of the night in the pitch dark. He needed to see to orient himself.Holy shit.He had his story plot. He scrambled over to the desk for his pens and paper. He knew who would be in his story.The son of the woman in the photo had a child of his own and that little boy has grown up to be a businessman. He has to return to the village in order to get his father’s affairs—since he’s dying—in order. When he comes back, the entire place finds out the man is gay and that’s out of the ordinary. Everyone talks, then tries to get him and other men in the area together. He sees the shops and places of his youth, which makes him realize he likes the small town. Things were so different, but also the same. He prefers the slower tempo of his home.

Tristan stopped writing. Who was the other hero? He had the businessman, but who would the guy pair up with? He’d have to think about that. A subplot came to mind.The father of the hero had a tangled life that even the hero doesn’t know about. A secret second wife and other children. Father had an affair with the hero’s high school girlfriend, too. Hero’s got brothers and sisters he never knew. While he’s sifting through the paperwork and unraveling his father’s life, he spends a little too much time with the ridiculously handsome lawyer. He ends up sleeping with the lawyer and that gets the town talking, too. Once the story is untangled, the money is distributed equally around the remaining spouses and children. The hero takes his share and donates it to the local LGBT shelter. Doesn’t want anyone to feel alone while trying to figure out who they are.

He sat back in his seat and cracked his knuckles. Now that he had a plan for the story, he could work on the character sketches. He laughed at himself. Unlike some writers, he wasn’t big on outlines. Once he started writing, the dialogue would take over and the story would twist in ways he wouldn’t expect. Part of him wanted to turn on his laptop and tackle the story. The rest of him needed sleep. He yawned.Yep, sleep would be best.

Tristan tossed the pen onto the desk, then stretched. He had a great start and once he went on a walk in the afternoon, he’d tackle writing. He shut the light off, then crawled back into bed. He hadn’t bothered to strip out of his clothes from the previous day.Oh well.He closed his eyes and thought about Michael.

Christ, he had to get his head cleared. But why? Michael was a handsome man. He had muscle in the right places and those eyes… He’d always been a sucker for men with glasses and the dark-rimmed specs looked hot on the librarian. He wanted to run his fingers through the man’s hair and be the recipient of his smile.

He flopped onto his back. Getting caught up in a guy wasn’t his style— not this fast. He didn’t know Michael other than what he’d learned during their short conversations. But he couldn’t deny the physical attraction. There weren’t many guys who had him tongue-tied. Yeah, he needed to see Michael and figure out if the connection was one-sided and a result of his loneliness, or if it was something more.

Wouldn’t his ex get a kick out of the great Tristan Paulson getting hung up on someone? His last boyfriend swore there was no one who could wrangle Tristan for any length of time. No one was that special. Tristan was the one who steamrolled over people and didn’t look back after the end of a relationship. He only got involved when he wanted to and never pined over anyone. Then he’d met Michael. He had to be losing his damn mind.

Tomorrow he’d wander around Sullavan and meet with the lawyer. He’d fill in the blanks concerning the setting of his new novel, then maybe, when he’d finished, he’d detour over to the library. Would Michael want to meet for coffee? He’d never know until he asked. He grinned and settled. A shot of Michael just might do his body and soul a world of good.

* * * *

The next morning, Michael walked the three blocks from his townhome to the library and unlocked the building. He waved to Dicey, who was sitting in her car reading one of her various paperback books. He headed into the building and waited for her to join him. He treasured the few minutes of silence. Dicey was like a mother to him, but she didn’t stop talking all that much.

He turned on the computers, then made his way over to the patron ones. He wondered about Tristan. The man intrigued him. Al hadn’t been much of a talker until he ventured into the library. Was Tristan a chatterer, too? He seemed so.

Michael opened one of the books he’d referred Tristan to and flipped through the pages. He lingered over images of Sullavan in the 1950s with the neon-lit storefronts and the quirky little shops. Anything could be purchased if one walked up and down the main drag. No need for superstores or leaving the area. He loved the architectural wonders of the town, too. So much art deco still standing and all the beautiful ironworks in the park… He didn’t know why anyone would want to live anywhere else. Would Tristan enjoy living in Sullavan? Probably not. He struck Michael as a city slicker who had a ton of hot guys lined up to be with him.

He turned his attention to the books again. He didn’t have guys crawling out of the woodwork to find him. Thinking about men and Tristan, in particular, wouldn’t do him any good right now. He busied himself with paperwork and logging in the inter-library transfer books. Dicey joined him at the counter, but once patrons came in, she paid him little mind.

The door opened and the squeak garnered Michael’s attention. When he looked up, Tristan stood in front of him. “Hi,” Tristan said. “I need assistance.”

Michael’s breath caught. He’d noticed just how handsome Tristan was yesterday, but today in a pressed button-down and his hair combed, he blew Michael’s mind. A hint of Tristan’s cologne wrapped around him. He suppressed a shiver. Would he smell so woodsy on a date?

“I’ve rendered you speechless?” Tristan laughed. “Molly said I might.”

“I…sorry.” Michael cleared his throat and regained his poise. He was there to do a job, not ogle a patron. “How are you?”

“I’m great, but I do need assistance. My lawyer is busy until tomorrow. I guess he’s in court. So, I can’t meet with him. I’ve got the rest of the day free and I thought I’d work on my research. Which books did you say I needed to use?” Tristan’s eyes sparkled.

“Sure.” He rounded the counter and escorted Tristan to the rack of books once more. “Whatever you need, this is what we have. There are some records on the computer, but I see we don’t have any open.” He nodded to the larger table of computers. “If you can wait, you’re welcome to one.”

“I’ll do this first.” Tristan smiled. He stepped forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s Wednesday and I see the open hours end at one. Would you like to come with me on a walk around Sullavan and dinner this afternoon?”

Michael stared at him for a moment. He didn’t know what to say. “Yeah,” he managed. “I would.”

“Perfect.” Tristan settled onto the chair and opened his notebook.

Michael hesitated, then returned to his post behind the desk. A walk and dinner. It’d been two years since he’d gone out on a proper date. When he’d been with Barry, their time together had consisted of hook-ups and the occasional pizza and beer night. He longed for a solid relationship with a decent guy, but this was Tristan. He’d sort out the details with the lawyer and leave town. Why would he want to keep seeing Michael? He probably had a guy wherever he was from.

Michael massaged his forehead and stifled his groan. He could just hear Barry telling him to stop overthinking and that his need for organization would drive every man away. He couldn’t help his quirks.

“I am so hitting that.” Lauren sidled up to Michael. “He’s hot.”

“He is,” Michael said. Christ. He needed to get a grip. He had no ties to Tristan. Shouldn’t. “You’d be good together.”

“I know, right?” she said and her voice rose an octave. “I bet he’d make gorgeous babies.”

He wouldn’t know about that.

Dicey strode up to the counter. “What are you blabbing about?”

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