Tingle Bells Read online

  Justin, clearly in panic mode, perched his gorgeous butt at the edge of a chair. “I’ll do whatever I can to make this work. If we don’t save the Tingle Bells, I’ll be so far up shit creek, a paddle won’t help.” He sprang out of his seat and began pacing again. If they harnessed the nervous energy Justin was putting out, Ramon figured they could probably power all of Princeton’s holiday lights for the month of December.

  Clear thinking was not usually such a challenge for Ramon. But Justin was about to go into a meltdown in his office. If he had to melt, Ramon could think of a lot more desirable ways to bring that about. His dick throbbed in agreement. “Sit,” he commanded. “We’ll find a way. I’ll help you.”

  Justin exhaled hard and fell back into the chair as if his bones had just dissolved. “You’ve got my undying gratitude and that of all the other Clancys. Hell, man, you’re about to save Christmas, Solstice, Chanukah, Kwanzaa—every holiday up to and including Chinese New Year.”

  “Prompt payment of my high but justifiable fees will do.”

  For the first time since he’d come into Ramon’s office, Justin flashed his smile. Full sensuous lips opened to reveal perfect white teeth. Ramon could picture those lips opening around his cock… If he hadn’t been a goner before, he was now. He crossed his legs under the desk and forced himself to concentrate on business. “So give me details about the product.”

  Justin described his Tingle Bells, going into technicalities that almost had Ramon’s eyes glazing over. But he listened carefully, hoping for some detail that would clarify how to proceed.

  “Aphrodisiac bells, huh?” Ramon growled hoarsely.

  Justin grinned. “Yeah. Luckily an early prototype I worked from escaped the ruin, but it’s the only set of bells that did. Unfortunately, the sound these make is just a fractional sample of the effect the final product has, but this can give you an idea.” He shook the strip of bells, and Ramon’s erection turned nearly painful.

  “That’s only a sample? Where can I get the real thing?”

  “You could have bought them in many retail outlets before the hex or whatever the hell has messed them up.” Justin’s grin had vanished.

  “Do you have any of the hexed bells with you? I’d like to hear what they sound like now.”

  Justin’s mouth twisted into a grimace. Wordlessly, he took a strip of bells out of his jacket pocket and shook them. Ramon cringed at the grotesque noise that issued forth.

  “That is a real travesty. Do you have any more of the bells that sound the way they’re supposed to?”

  Justin shook his head glumly. “No. It looks like the hex or whatever has affected all the bells, even the small supply I held on to. And it’s far too late to try to manufacture more and get them out in time for Christmas sales.”

  Ramon shook his head. “I don’t want to hold out any false hope, but I’ll try my best. I definitely agree with you, there’s some sort of hex or enchantment on these bells. Nothing else could explain the fact that they are one hundred percent affected.”

  Justin licked his lips and Ramon nearly lost it. “You’re my only hope now.” He reached across the desk to shake hands with Ramon, and several thousand more volts of electricity crackled between them. Surely Justin had to feel what he did.

  “I’ll do the best I can. I have to tell you, I’ll probably be able to determine what kind of enchantment or hex might be operating without too much difficulty. But removing that spell is another story. In most cases, we’ll have to convince whoever put the hex on to take it off.”

  The other man frowned, which did nothing to diminish his good looks. “Well, shit. That kind of complicates matters.”

  Ramon nodded. “Nothing like a challenge to get the detective juices going. Justin, you’re my last appointment for today. I need to arrange a few things, including the start of a trace on the bells to analyze what’s affecting them. If we can get that information tonight, it’ll give us a good shot at saving the bells and Christmas for your family. And then, in the meantime, how about we go for a drink, some dinner? Maybe you can give me some more leads.”

  Justin grinned his acceptance of the invitation.

  * * * * *

  Now that Justin knew Ramon was going to help him fix the bells, he could relax enough to enjoy the view. Even though Justin had let his fingers do the walking to choose a detective, he couldn’t have imagined the hot destination those fingers would lead him to. Not only did Ramon Ramirez have smoldering Latin good looks, he also appeared very successful at his work, which augured well for the Tingle Bells. If this guy didn’t know what he was doing, there was no way he could afford his high-rent office on Nassau Street in Princeton. Though any space as meticulously neat and organized as the man’s office would usually grate Justin’s nerves and make him break out in hives, Justin was feeling no pain in Ramon’s company. Quite the contrary.

  Ramon evidently was just as meticulous about his person as his space, and the guy obviously worked out regularly. In a suit that screamed designer label, Ramon looked like the consummate professional. But with his brooding dark eyes, full lips, great teeth and classic features, this man had to have a life beyond the nine-to-five routine.

  The two men walked to a restaurant down the street from Ramon’s office. At just past six in early December, the streets were already dark. It had been the bone-nipping kind of cold all day that threatened snow. Ramon put up the collar of his cashmere overcoat. Justin, who’d thrown on his scuffed leather bomber jacket, shivered as they rushed through the crowds of people headed home or to do their holiday shopping.

  This early, the two men had no problem getting seated at Chez Clay. “You up for an early dinner?” Ramon asked.

  With his hard cock pressing against the fly of his jeans, Justin knew “up” was the operative word to describe him around Ramon. But business came first. “When are you going to check on the trace you’ve started? How much time does it take to read what’s hexing an object?”

  Ramon raised a brow. “A man’s gotta eat.” He flashed his perfect smile, and heat radiated from Justin’s groin. It didn’t take much imagination to visualize exactly what he wanted Ramon to nibble on.

  “Agreed. But, hell, my whole family needs the Tingle Bells to work out if we’re going to keep eating on a regular basis.”

  Ramon winced. “Give me mercy, guy. Every time you mention your family, I want to drop everything to help them. But now that the trace has been started, it takes time for the analytical processes to go through. There’s nothing I can do to speed them along. In fact, if I tried to short-circuit the process, it would probably produce inaccurate results. Then I’d have to restart, which would mean losing even more time. So though I know it’s all you can think about, try to give it a rest. I’m giving your case top priority. The minute I know anything, you will too.”

  “Easier said than done,” Justin grumped, “but I’ll try. Okay, Ramon. So how’d you get into the private detective business, anyway?” God, could he have asked anything more inane?

  Ramon appeared to consider that question for a moment. “I’ll tell you, but that’s it for shop talk tonight, okay? There’s really more to life than business.”

  Justin certainly agreed. But he’d been caught up in figuring out how to support his ragtag family for so long, he’d put everything else on a back burner. Now the pressure of his cock and the simmering arousal of being with Ramon reminded him of how narrow and unsatisfactory his recent focus had made his life. “There is?”

  “Man, you need a drink. Here comes the server.”

  “I’ll have a margarita, salt on the rim.”

  Ramon ordered the same. The server brought their drinks quickly. “You gentlemen want to see the dinner menu?”

  Ramon looked at Justin, who nodded. The server went off to fetch the menus.

  “To the recovery and abundant use of the Tingle Bells,” Ramon toasted.

  “Amen, brother.” Justin clinked glasses with him and began to sip. “So you wer
e going to tell me how you became a private detective.” He sat back.

  “I was, but I’ve changed my mind. Even that would be too much shop talk. I’ll tell you the story, which is short and not terribly interesting, some other time.”

  Justin liked that. There would be another time for them to be alone together, with all that implied. “Where are you from, Ramon?”

  “Why?”

  “You look like you should have an accent, but you don’t.”

  “Some people consider the New Jersey accent a pretty thick one, and I certainly have that. Born right here in Princeton. How about you?”

  “My family lives here. I spent my formative years farther up Route One, in North Brunswick.”

  “Your family moved here later?”

  Justin shook his head. “Great-Uncle Fred, Aunt Claire and cousin Pat have always lived here in Princeton. So has Aunt Louise, who’s estranged from the family but is supposedly somewhere in the vicinity. Fred was my dad’s uncle. Dad and Mom and Pat’s parents died together in a plane crash ten years ago while I was at Rutgers and he was a kid. I’ve called Fred, Claire and Pat my family ever since.”

  “Whew. Do you give out a score card with that story?”

  “It’s not really that complicated.”

  “You live with them?”

  Justin shook his head. “I’ve got my own place, such as it is, in South Brunswick. I live where I work—the headquarters of our business, Clancy’s Fancies. There’s an office-studio-lab and a small apartment. Be it ever so humble.”

  “What exactly is Clancy’s Fancies?”

  “I thought you said no shop talk.”

  “Busted.”

  The server arrived with the menus, cutting off their conversation. Justin, hungrier than he’d felt since he discovered the problem with the bells, ordered stuffed mushrooms for an appetizer and the rack of lamb entrée—guaranteed hearty. Ramon ordered mussels in melted butter and prime rib.

  Their appetizers came, and were excellent. As the two men ate, Justin felt something growing between them besides his erection, which had him shifting in his seat. If he’d had to name the exact time when he realized how much he wanted to go home with Ramon tonight, he’d probably have picked the moment when he looked across the table and saw the other man’s lips slick with butter sauce. Justin wanted to lick every bit of the butter off Ramon’s mouth. Ramon caught his look and made a very subtle movement of his head—was that a wink?

  Justin bit back the impulse to leap across the table and start licking those buttery lips. Soon, he promised his impatient cock. Real soon. If it didn’t for some reason work out to be Ramon tonight, he’d find someone else…but he hoped with everything he had that it would be Ramon.

  Ramon ordered a Spanish red wine to go with their entrées. The meal, delicious though it was, was turning into a prolonged tease. The tension between him and Justin was thicker than his excellent steak. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this aroused, this heady feeling of being on the brink of something very special.

  “You know about my charming but eccentric family. How about yours, Ramon? Are they still in the area?”

  Ramon shook his head. “They were just passing through when I was born. Then they kept right on going. Dad died when his polo pony threw him.”

  “Polo?”

  “Yeah. Rich playboy from Argentina.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  By long-developed habit, Ramon shrugged away the sympathy. He sipped more wine.

  “Is your mother gone too?” Justin’s eyes glittered with the sympathy Ramon wanted to reject.

  His mother. Ramon felt his mouth twist into the same grimace that mention of her always inspired. “Not in the way you mean. Do you ever watch cable TV’s Marisela, the Shopping Diva?”

  “Yeah. But, dude, she’s only thirty-five.”

  Ramon laughed dryly. “Exactly. How could a thirty-five-year-old be the mother of a thirty-three-year-old son?”

  Justin swallowed hard. “You’re saying she’s your mother?”

  “Shhh. If she knew I’d told you, I’d have to kill you. In other words, for all intents and purposes, she’s not. According to her press kit, she’s never had children. For all I know she’s a born-again virgin.”

  “Shit. That sucks huge hairy lemons.”

  Ramon shrugged again.

  “So who brought you up?”

  “My guardians decided ‘round-the-year boarding school would do the job best. For some reason, maybe because it’s the location on my birth certificate, Princeton always felt like ‘home’. Went to boarding school, the university, graduated and opened my office.”

  “No relatives around, not even distant ones?”

  “The family back in Argentina figured I was only trying to connect with them to hit them up for funds. I tried to tell them Dad had managed to set up a great trust before the pony fell on him, and even if he hadn’t, I wasn’t out to get myself on the list of heirs. But I suppose I wasn’t credible.”

  “So you’re alone.”

  “Yeah.” His voice came out gruffer than he’d intended. “The Lone Ranger. That’s me.”

  “I’m sorry, man. I can’t even imagine what life would be like without my family around.”

  Ramon shrugged. “Most of the time, it’s okay. But Thanksgiving and Christmas can be rough. It’s why I make sure to keep really busy during the holidays.”

  Justin moved as if to put his hand on Ramon’s, then apparently changed his mind. Much as Ramon would have liked to have Justin touch him that way, the gesture of comfort would probably have had him bawling. Definitely not the public image a tough detective wanted to project. Regretfully, he withdrew his hand from the tabletop. “I’m going to break one of my own rules,” he said, “but my curiosity is killing me. You found my name in the Rainbow Directory?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Do you often consult the directory, or was this a fluke?”

  Justin raised an eyebrow. “Definitely not a fluke. What are you really asking me?”

  Now or never. “Are you gay?”

  “Oh, yeah. And you, Mr. Investigator?”

  He nodded. “Have you come out to your family?”

  Justin squirmed. “Not yet.”

  “Really. How come? Do you think they’d take it badly?” Not being part of a family, Ramon had never had to deal with coming out to those near and dear. He’d heard some nightmarish accounts of what people had gone through, though families ran the gamut of reactions and attitudes. His fantasy family would, of course, have completely supported him, but he knew how far his illusions could be from reality.

  Justin made an I-don’t-know gesture. “First of all, I don’t know if they’d be surprised. They are completely supportive of people doing their own thing. That’s why the estrangement with Aunt Louise has always been so difficult to understand. But I guess in my situation, I’d plead inertia. There hasn’t been any real reason to tell them.”

  “I agree with you about the Aunt Louise thing. There must have been a really deep and painful rift to keep them apart for so long. But that aside, I’m kind of surprised you haven’t told them yet.”

  “I guess I’m just waiting for the right time.”

  “And how will you know when that comes?”

  “I have no idea. I just haven’t felt any signal yet.”

  “You don’t think they’d reject you, do you?’

  Justin didn’t answer right away. “Just haven’t gotten my mind around doing it yet. Not to change the subject, but let’s change the subject.”

  Ramon saw no reason to push the point for now, so he acquiesced. The more he got to know Justin, the more turned on Ramon felt. He wanted to be with this man past when the Tingle Bells offered a pretext. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

  “I wish.” Justin leaned toward him, and Ramon’s heartbeat accelerated.

  “Uh, what do you say we skip dessert here?” Ramon held his breath waiting for Justin’
s response.

  “I’m ready to take the rest of dinner home in a doggie bag.”

  Which was exactly what they both did. In ten minutes, they were headed to Ramon’s car, a late-model Beemer he garaged near his office.

  Both men walked briskly, their breaths forming puffs of condensation. “Where do you live, Ramon?”

  “I’ve got a house on the other side of Route One, in West Windsor.” Ramon stopped for a moment. “You have a car here?”

  “Would you believe it’s at the shop today for a tune-up? My cousin Pat dropped me off at your office. I figured I’d walk or take a cab to Fred and Claire’s place after I saw you.”

  Great. No details to worry about. They managed to miss rush-hour traffic and were at his place in fifteen minutes.

  Chapter Two

  Ramon’s house, a large white colonial with an impressive live holly wreath gracing the red door, was exactly the way Justin would have pictured it.

  When both men had removed their outer garments, which Ramon carefully hung in the neatly arranged closet, he put the doggie bags into his refrigerator. All the very modern appliances in the huge state-of-the-art kitchen gleamed. “Can I get you an after-dinner drink?”

  “I’ll take a rain check on that. How about giving me a grand tour of your place?”

  “Okay. I’m going to have some wine.” He took out an expensive-looking bottle, which he opened with a complicated corkscrew that intrigued Justin’s inner inventor. But right now Ramon intrigued him more.

  “On second thought, I’ll join you.”

  Ramon poured rich dark wine for both of them into highly faceted crystal goblets. They toasted. “To a happy holiday season,” Ramon proposed.

  “Slainte.” Justin responded with the traditional Irish toast. The men sipped their wine companionably at the granite counter.

  “This is great.”

  “Right. About that tour.” Ramon put down his goblet, and Justin, amazed to see how the other man’s hand trembled, followed suit.