Finn stifled his laughter. He had the best friends ever. The best life, come to think of it. There was only one thing missing that would make it perfect.
Someone to love.
Chapter Two
Joel Hall began counting in his head as soon as his sister Megan stepped through his front door. He’d gotten as far as fifty before she launched her first salvo. Joel was impressed: she wasn’t usually that restrained.
Megan looked around, nodding. “Small, but nice loft bedroom.” She grinned. “You don’t think you could’ve found a smaller place? I mean, if you tried really hard, you might be able to swing a cat in here. I’m sure the dog would love that.”
“It’s not that small a place, and the dog has a name,” Joel commented dryly. “It’s only two syllables, for God’s sake. Bramble. Bram-bull. Think you can remember that?” He figured Megan’s withering glance was all the response he was going to get.
Megan crouched in front of Bramble, who lay curled up on his bed by the fireplace. She rubbed his silky chocolate-colored ears. “Your silly daddy thinks I’m here to see him, but we know the truth, right, puppy?”
Bramble’s soft woof was adorable. “He’s telling you he’s knows exactly why you’re here, Aunt Megan,” Joel remarked from his rocking chair on the other side of the fireplace.
Megan shook her head. “Look at you. Rocking away in that thing as if you’re eighty years old.” Her eyes twinkled. “And why choose the rocking chair when there’s a perfectly adorable armchair covered in pictures of sailboats.”
Joel knew sarcasm when he heard it. He narrowed his gaze. “Okay, so the decor is quaint. What do you expect from a rental? An Edwardian library chair? An Irish fireside chair? A solid wood dresser? And so what if it’s not to your taste? You’re not the one living here.” Thank God. Thirty minutes or more lay between him and Portland where Megan and her partner Lynne resided. It wasn’t that great a distance, but it was enough. He loved his sister dearly, but Jesus, she could try the patience of a saint.
Megan gave Bramble one last ruffle of his fur, then moved to the armchair. “Hey, this is comfy.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” Joel preferred the gentle, soothing motion of the rocker. He loved how Bramble would putter over to him and lie at his feet, his tail safely out of the rocker’s reach.
Megan peered at him. “So, is it working? With Bramble, I mean.”
It took a moment for her meaning to sink in. Joel gaped at her. “You were serious?”
Megan blinked. “Of course I was serious.”
“I did not get a dog simply to meet guys. Talk about a harebrained scheme.”
Megan gave him a superior smile. “You may laugh, but wait and see. A man and his dog? That’s a magnet for gay guys. You watch.” She got up and walked over to the window, staring out at the scene beyond. “I have to say… Even my amazing plotting might falter in a place like this.”
“A place like what?”
Megan rolled her eyes. “You know what I see out there? Trees. Nothing but trees.”
“I happen to like trees.” Joel couldn’t suppress his ruffle of indignation. “Okay, so it’s not as… busy as Portland.”
Megan’s eyes were almost out on stalks. “Not as busy? I’m waiting for tumbleweed to roll leisurely across the road. What was wrong with that place in Augusta? You weren’t that far from the kids and Carrie, you had every conceivable amenity on your doorstep… Why on earth did you choose to live in the back of beyond? There’s nothing but tourists here.”
Joel narrowed his gaze. “I like it here. It’s quiet. I can write. I can walk the dog.” And as for being farther away from the kids… His chest tightened.
“But there are no guys,” Megan said, wringing her hands. “There have to be better places in this state for a gay man to live.” She sighed. “I’d die if I had to live here.”
“You’d have died if you’d stayed in Idaho. You wouldn’t have met Lynne for one thing.”
He loved the warm light in her eyes. “True.”
Joel had liked the quaint cottage the moment he’d laid eyes on it, from its white-painted steps leading up to the front porch, to the steep slope of the roof with its two skylights. One glance at the Adirondack chair on the porch to the left of the front door had sealed the deal. He could picture himself sitting in it, reading, or maybe with his laptop on his knee. On the other side of the door were two white rocking chairs. Joel had stepped through the screen door into the interior, then come to a dead stop.
It was exactly what he wanted, even if it had seen better days.
The living area gave way to the kitchen on the right, with a door to the bathroom, and despite what Megan said, there was plenty of room. Light poured through the window at the apex of the roof, and an oak staircase led to the only bedroom, up in the loft. A single and double futon in the living area would accommodate Nate and Laura when—if—they visited, and that was perfect. The loft was charming, with just enough room for a queen-size bed beneath the sloping roof, and he could gaze down into the living room.
Okay, so it was small, but it suited him. And he hadn’t chosen that quiet spot in Kennebunkport, a stone’s throw from Goose Rocks Beach, because it was teeming with gay men. If he wanted to meet guys, there was Ogunquit. Not that he’d ventured as far as the gay bar—MaineStreet? Is that the name?—but it was on his to-do list.
Yeah right. How many times had he driven past the place?
It could wait. Right then, all he wanted was to get used to being on his own for a while, just him and his thoughts. And there sure were a lot of them.
Megan speared him with a look. “Wait a sec. You said write. Are you still thinking about that? I thought you gave up on the idea.”
Joel shrugged. “I kick it around now and then.” Not that he’d gotten as far as writing a single word. It was as if that blank screen on his laptop taunted him. Go on. I dare ya. Type. Ideas? He had plenty of ideas. All he lacked was motivation.
Maybe this place is exactly what I need.
“Has Carrie been here yet? Has she been in touch?” Megan’s voice was suddenly gentler.
“We talk most days,” Joel admitted. “And no, she hasn’t visited yet.” That was about to change, however.
“How is she?”
Joel grinned. “You can ask yourself.” When Megan widened her eyes, Joel tapped his watch face. “She’s coming over. She wasn’t specific about the time, she just said it would be the afternoon.”
“Thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to leave before she gets here.”
Joel’s scalp prickled. “Why? I always thought you two got along.” At least that was the impression he’d gotten.
“Oh, we do. It’s just…”
Joel got up from his rocker, walked over to her, and placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a hopefully comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry. There won’t be any awkward silences or tension between us. It wasn’t that kind of a divorce.” He went on into the kitchen to put on the coffee. “You’re going to stay long enough for coffee, right?”