Page 4

His smile widened. “Precious.” His voice was soft and warm, like the sunshine that warmed Elliot’s back when he was allowed to tend his garden. “I’d like to enjoy your company a little while longer, if that’s something that might interest you.” His voice was nervous, like he was scared Elliot’s answer would be no. Honestly, Elliot knew he probably should say no. Alarms were firing inside him, warning him off spending any time with Alexander Davenport, reminding Elliot he belonged to another.

Elliot searched Alexander’s face, seeking out sincerity. His big, brown eyes didn’t seem deceptive, but Elliot knew looks could often deceive. Deception be damned, because Sugarplum Island was a hidden oasis. A place where dreams came true, if the brochures were to be believed. Despite having seen it all the night before, now Elliot wanted to see it at Alexander’s side.

“If you’re sure it isn’t a bother,” Elliot said.

“It would be my honor.”

As they walked across the island, Elliot snuck glances at Alexander, and Alexander caught him every time. But Alexander never questioned him. He didn’t insist Elliot refrain from sneaking peeks. If anything, each stolen glance made Alexander’s smile spread even wider.

“So,” Alexander started when they were roughly halfway to the dock. “This Jared fellow. Is he your partner?”

Elliot’s entire body tensed, but if Alexander noticed, he didn’t mention it. “He’s . . .” He closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to explain Jared without laying his shame bare. “I live with him.”

Alexander nodded, and there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. It made Elliot uncomfortable, because he didn’t want Alexander to know anything about his life with Jared Price.

“Where’s home?”

“In Dallas.”

His eyes widened. “I live in Dallas, too.”

It felt like Elliot’s heart was going to leap out of his chest. Alexander lived just down the street. Well, in the same city, at least. And at the moment, he was still within reach; though Elliot didn’t understand why he felt the need to reach for him. His mind raced, trying to think of ways Elliot might accidentally bump into Alexander in Dallas, but he came up short. When Jared left for work each day, he forced Elliot to power himself down. Being powered down meant any chance at popping out of the house and running into Alexander was slim to none. Maybe if he simply pretended to power himself down. But then, if Jared found out, there would be hell to pay.

“Would you like to see each other again? Back home, I mean,” Alexander asked. Elliot believed he would have liked that very much, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work. Alexander quickly looked away, his cheeks red with the sting of rejection, even though Elliot hadn’t meant to reject him.

“Home,” Elliot whispered.

“Home?”

“I have one, but it isn’t a good home.” The words felt like glass shards digging at the lining of his throat. An immense wave of shame hit him, leaving him breathless. He shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t something he was supposed to say. Not to anyone. Certainly not to Alexander. “I don’t think Jared would allow us to socialize.”

When Alexander’s hand found his and squeezed, Elliot could tell Alexander wanted to pry. Alexander’s face was a myriad of emotion, conflicting and contorting his frown to a smile that sent a sense of calmness through him, soothing his nerves.

“What would make a good home for you?” Alexander asked, catching Elliot off guard.

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you could picture the perfect home, what would it be?”

Elliot paused, considering the question. He didn’t understand Alexander’s reason for asking, but he already asked it, and Elliot knew he wanted an answer.

Home.

When it came to homes, Elliot had only known a few. Jared’s mansion in Dallas. The home of Arthur and Periwinkle Price, though they’d sold it a few months prior. Then there was his first home. His true home. With Mother and all her bountiful beaus. God, Elliot missed it.

“I was created in New Orleans. My mother raised me for the first year of my life. Well, it was almost a year, I wish it had been longer. I used to go down to the swamps and sit on the dock, watching all the fascinating creatures. The water was always very peaceful; so I believe my perfect home would need to be near a swamp. Or maybe any water source would do.” Elliot sighed, disappointed at his own indecision. “I apologize, Alexander. I can’t say I’ve given this much thought.”

“You’re doing great,” Alexander reassured him. “So, your perfect home would be on the water. What else?”

“My home now is big and cold and uninviting. Everything has its place, and it mustn’t be moved. It makes me feel on edge. I believe I’d like to live somewhere small. Somewhere cozy, where I wouldn’t have to worry about items being placed in spaces that aren’t meant for them.”

“A little cottage, perhaps?”

Elliot nodded. “That could be cozy. And it would have to have a garden, because the days when I can garden are my favorite days of all.” He sucked in a sharp breath, because Elliot had been traveling to Sugarplum Island every Sunday for months. He didn’t want it getting back to Miss Twylah that he enjoyed gardening more than visiting her lovely shop. “I love the days I come to Sugarplum Island, too, but there’s something about digging my fingers into the earth and planting a seed that calms me. You get to watch life grow. It’s not a big life, but it’s still something I can create from nothing. My flowers depend on me, and I think I depend on them just as much.”

Alexander gave him a nod. “All right, a small home on the water and a garden. What else would you like?”

Elliot wondered what purpose Alexander’s inquisition held, but he’d been very nice to Elliot so far, so he indulged the man. “An automobile, maybe. Jared used to allow me to drive and I always enjoyed it.”

“What kind of car?”

Elliot shrugged. “Something small. It wouldn’t need to be anything large like a pickup truck, but I think I’d like the tires to have those pretty, white circles around the wheel. I used to see those on vehicles when I went up in town. They seem very fancy. I saw a few with gold on the side, but they looked tacky.”

“Agreed. White walls are gorgeous on the right car,” Alexander said, and then, as if he was acting on instinct rather than rationality, Alexander wrapped an arm around Elliot’s shoulder and led him onward. Maybe he should have, but Elliot didn’t pull away.

“Will you tell me about yourself?” Elliot asked after a long stretch of silence.

“I can do that,” he said, squeezing Elliot’s arm and making him feel all tingly inside. “Well, I was born in Missouri, but my family relocated to Texas as a child.”

“Why did you relocate?”

“My dad,” Alexander answered. “He owned a property development company, and after making it big in the Midwest, he wanted to strike while the iron was hot, as they say.”

Elliot looked up at him. “As who says?”

“Well, my father, for one, but it’s just an expression. After he died, I took over the company. I’ve been at it for a little over a decade.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

Alexander paused, looking lost in contemplation. “I enjoy being successful and keeping the family legacy alive. The work itself, not so much. It gets stressful sometimes, but I like to think it keeps me on my toes.”

Alexander admitted he knew he was gay all his life, which made sense, because during the half-year spent learning and training at Ms. Broussard’s Home for Bountiful Beaus, Elliot learned homosexuality was something a person was born with. There was even a song Mother would sing to her sons about God making no mistakes, usually performed at her piano, where Clarence would always sit behind the keys, twinkling out the stunning ballad. “Born this way.” Those were the words she sang, and Elliot realized he was born that way, too.

All too soon, the dock came into view, and Elliot felt as if his world were crumbling. He didn’t want to make the final few steps. He didn’t want to purchase a passage back to his horrible life. If he was being honest, Elliot thought he would quite like to stay right there on Sugarplum Island, just so he could get to know his new friend better. By the time they reached the dock, it felt as if Elliot’s feet were submerged in quicksand, and he found it hard to put one foot in front of the other.

Alexander paused beside him and smiled down at Elliot. “I’ll get your ticket.” He pointed at the small bench Elliot had rested on earlier. “You can wait there if you want.”

Elliot shook his head and held Professor Plum higher in his hand. “I have to let him go.” The words felt bitter on his tongue.

Alexander nodded toward the booth. “I’ll be right over here if you need me.”

When Alexander was gone, Elliot stared down at Professor Plum, knowing he needed to release the fieldmouse back into its natural habitat. Try as he might, Elliot couldn’t bring himself to let go as Professor Plum stared up at him with big, hopeful eyes.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” Elliot whispered, hoping Alexander wouldn’t overhear. “Your home is here. You belong here, Professor Plum of Sugarplum Island.” Despite the fact rodents are usually seen as filthy creatures, Elliot couldn’t bear to say goodbye to his new friend without a proper sendoff. He lifted his hand, bringing the fieldmouse to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on its head. “I will miss you very much.” The look the mouse gave Elliot was enough to crack his mechanical heart. “I would love to keep you, but my master would never allow it. He would make me leave you in the street, or worse. You’re the closest thing to a friend I’ve ever had, and I can’t stand the thought of him—” Elliot slammed his eyes shut. “No, I can’t let that happen. I wish I could keep you. You don’t know how much I wish I could. It simply isn’t an option.”

The mouse squeaked, its tone sounding like a plea.

“I’m sorry,” Elliot repeated, his voice cracking on the words. A tear fell down his cheek, because his brief moment of freedom was ending. Someone squeezed Elliot’s shoulder, their other hand softly rubbing up and down the length of Elliot’s back. He froze, embarrassed that someone heard everything he just said. Swallowing, he turned, mortified to see Alexander Davenport standing behind him with an overwhelming look of sympathy in his eyes. Elliot’s mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.

“Would you like me to care for him, Elliot?”

More tears pooled in Elliot’s eyes, because, yes, he thought. Yes, he would like that very much. With Alexander Davenport, Professor Plum might live a happy life. He would continue to know the taste of freedom. A life uncaged. Elliot Price knew about cages. The way they twisted and curved around you, creeping closer and closer until you could no longer move. Elliot had never known the taste of freedom but for those hours on Sugarplum Island. How was he supposed to go back to his silver cage in Dallas?

“I would like that very much,” Elliot agreed. “If it pleases you, sir.”

Alexander squeezed Elliot’s arm. “I’d be honored.”

When Elliot inevitably returned to Dallas, Jared would be waiting for him. Having been gone all night without a word, Elliot would be in for the sternest lesson of his life. He wanted to ask his new friend to save him. To keep him safe from harm. Alexander possessed kind eyes and an honest heart. Elliot was sure he would help him. All he had to do was ask.

“You’re a wonderful man, Mr. Davenport. I hope we meet again.”

When Alexander lifted his hand and wiped away a tear from Elliot’s cheek, Elliot’s skin tingled. Needing one more moment of freedom—of this newfound connection—Elliot placed his hand on top of Alexander’s, holding it there, leaning into the touch like a purring kitten to its master. A kind master. A master unlike Jared Price.

“Sweet boy,” Alexander whispered, and then, as if Alexander knew how much Elliot would need something to cling to in the future, he gave him a gentle kiss. It wasn’t much, but it was one that rattled Elliot to his core. The silk-smooth texture of lips against lips, and the way Alexander placed his hand right over Elliot’s heart, like he was trying to pour himself into the wayward automaton. Most of all, the way Alexander allowed his lips to part, though only for a moment, fitting them together like a well-clinging sweater.

The kiss ended faster than Elliot would have liked, but he wasn’t a greedy man. He didn’t seek more than Alexander was offering, because what Alexander had just provided was the single most wonderful moment of his life. And all the while Professor Plum squeak-squeak-squeaked his approval.

“You don’t have to go, Elliot,” Alexander whispered, his nose brushing back and forth against Elliot’s. “You can stay.”

Elliot’s jaw trembled and he shook his head. He couldn’t stay. The tracker in his arm would lead Jared right to him. For all Elliot knew, Jared could have been on his way already, probably chartering a yacht to find his missing ‘appliance.’

Elliot could love Alexander, he thought. He was able to picture their future so clearly, but the longer he pictured it, the more his heart ached for what he could never have. He allowed himself a moment before the image slipped away, imagining the way Alexander would return every night to their small bungalow on Sugarplum Island. The way Elliot would greet him at the door with a kiss. Professor Plum would peek his precious head out of Elliot’s shirt pocket and squeak-squeak-squeak to his heart’s content. Alexander’s slippers would be in Elliot’s hand every single night, the soles warmed by Elliot’s feet, wanting them to be cozy for his love. They would share a lovely meal in their kitchen nook, and Elliot would cling to Alexander’s every word as he told him about his day. Maybe if Elliot was lucky, Alexander might even care enough to ask about his day. At night they would cuddle on the sofa watching I Love Lucy , Alexander with a glass of wine, Elliot with a cup of cocoa, and Professor Plum with a thimble of carrot juice. Upstairs in their bedroom, Elliot would finally know a gentle touch, because Alexander Davenport seemed like a very gentle man. Before bed, Elliot would look into Alexander’s eyes, and he would say . . .

“Thank you,” Elliot said, drying his eyes. “Thank you so much for this, Mr. Davenport. You don’t know how much it’s meant to me.”

Alexander swallowed and squeezed Elliot’s hand one final time. “I think I do, actually.” Reaching into his pocket, Alexander removed his wallet, fished out a business card, and offered it to Elliot.

Davenport Developments, the card said, and then Alexander’s name and phone number. He memorized them quickly, because he knew he couldn’t keep the card. If Jared were to find it, his punishment would be severe. That’s not to say he didn’t wish to keep the card, because Elliot wished for it very much. A physical touchstone to cling to, reminding him he wasn’t alone. A secret souvenir from the single moment of his life that belonged only to Elliot. He put the card in his pocket, knowing he’d need to throw it from the ferry on the ride back to the mainland.

“Can I wait with you for the ferry?”

Elliot closed his eyes and shook his head. “Please give Professor Plum a good life. He’s—” my only friend, Elliot wanted to say, but how could he when the lump in his throat was aching so badly?

“I swear it,” Alexander insisted. “You’ll see him again, though.” He squeezed Elliot’s shoulder. “We’ll meet again, Elliot Price. I promise.”

Elliot watched as Alexander walked away. There was an old saying he’d heard before, about hating to see someone leave but loving to watch them walk away. It couldn’t be further from the truth. Elliot would give up the chance of any future stolen glances at Alexander’s backside if he would just come back. If he would stay.

Elliot sat on the dock, his legs dangling over the ledge, looking out at the slowly approaching ferry. He pulled Alexander’s card from his pocket and memorized it by heart.

Alexander Davenport. Davenport Developments. A phone number.

Alexander Davenport. Davenport Developments. A phone number.

Alexander Davenport. Davenport Developments. A phone number.

The scent of Twylah’s cookies reminded him of a county fair he visited once. It was like sweetness and strawberries and so much cotton candy. He wanted to taste those strawberries and to let the cotton candy melt on his tongue, the way Jared said it did.

His punishment was going to be torturesome anyway, Elliot rationalized. Why not make it worth it?

He opened the bag Miss Twylah packed the cookies in and lifted the lid to the box. Elliot gasped. Inside was an individually wrapped cookie resting on top of all the others. Miss Twylah drew a heart on the wrapper and everything. “Everyone deserves a Sugarplum treat,” it said at the top, and Elliot couldn’t have agreed more.

He opened the wrapper, his hands shaking with nerves. Elliot brought the cookie to his mouth and took a small bite, whining at the pop of flavor. He nibbled and nibbled until his teeth reached the jammy dollop in the center. Elliot didn’t realize what he’d been missing out on, and that made everything hurt worse, because he knew this would be the only time he’d ever have the chance to indulge in a sugary treat. Pushing past the crippling fear, Elliot forced himself to relax and live in the moment.

With fear rising like rolling tides and the ferry sailing closer, Elliot closed his eyes, lifted his face to the sun, and smiled.