Gifts for the Season - R.J. Scott Page 0,51

will," I purred, watching him get into his truck.

Chapter Three

I was more than a little curious about Dan Partridge. But there were too many hits on that name to search through on Facebook, and I didn't find anything obvious on Twitter or Instagram either.

Oh, well. I'd been meaning to call Sean anyway.

"Hey, Paul! How are you liking Port Lodge? I'm so sorry we're not there to ease the way."

"Yeah. I miss you both. But other than being a bit lonely, it's perfect. I love the area. Been taking advantage of the trail system."

"Yeah? Have you done the golf course loop yet? We like that one."

"I have. The views of the marina from the top of the hill are to die for. I keep meaning to take my lunch up there someday, but it's a bit rainy now. Maybe we can do that when you guys get back."

We chatted about Port Lodge for a bit, and about their housesit, until I finally broached the thing I'd really called about. "Say, do you know the UPS guy here in Port Lodge? Major cutie with dark hair? Not that you or Graham have eyes for anyone but each other."

"You mean Dan Partridge?"

"You know his name?" I asked in surprise.

Sean snorted. "Way to be classist, Paul. Yes, we actually speak to our delivery man."

"No. No, that's not what I meant. It's just... I guess I'm a certified introvert. I only recently thought to ask his name because I'm suddenly getting all these packages."

There was a beat of silence before Sean said, “Yes, we know Dan. He's a great guy. He's really good to our neighbor, John. He's in his eighties and pretty much housebound. Dan always spends a few minutes chatting with him. Laughing." Sean chuckled. "I swear John gets stuff delivered just to talk to Dan. And to admire the view, if you know what I mean."

"I have no idea what you're referring to," I deadpanned, just to hear Sean laugh. But it warmed me to hear about Dan's kindness to others. "Say... you don't happen to know if Dan is gay, do you?"

"Seriously, Paul? You're interested in Dan?" Sean's tone was bemused.

My back stiffened. "What is that supposed to mean? You were just saying how I shouldn't be classist."

"You shouldn't be. It's just that Dan isn't exactly your type, is he? James was such an intellectual. I've only seen you with guys like him. You know, arrogant assholes. I've never seen beefcake turn your head before."

I felt a spark of anger. "Dan is not just beefcake."

"No, he's not. I'm just surprised you recognize that."

In the background, I could hear someone laughing. It sounded like Graham.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Nothing," Sean said innocently. "Graham's reading something online. Anyway, what's going on with Dan? And why does all the exciting shit happen when we're out of town?"

"Nothing is going on. He's just been friendly, and I was curious about whether or not he's gay. That's all there is to it."

"Ah. Of course. Graham says he is, and his gaydar is much better than mine."

"That's true. Graham practically had to lay himself out across your lap in gold lamé to get your attention."

Sean laughed. "Yeah, yeah. And I'll never hear the end of it. So how's the new book coming along?"

I was grateful for the change of subject and we chatted about other things for a while.

When I got off the phone ten minutes later, I felt uneasy. It was strong enough that I went out on the back deck and sat in a chair in the cool, damp air, trying to decipher what had me tweaked.

Was it the implication that I shouldn't be into Dan because he was the UPS guy?

It was true, he wasn't my usual type. I'd typically dated engineers, managers, even a banker once. My ex-boyfriend, James, was brilliant. He taught Latin along with Greek and Roman history at UDub. James was definitely snobby—he could be a real twat at times. He poo-pooed my career as a gay fiction writer, looking down his nose at it even though, at other times, he'd brag about it, like when he'd taken me to faculty parties.

James was also boring, in bed and out—a fact I wouldn't admit to myself until after we'd broken up.

So what if Dan wasn't my usual type? There was nothing wrong with trying something new, was there? And there was nothing wrong with being a delivery guy. Or a plumber. Or working in a health club. Or any other profession.

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