Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

pretty much shot for doing business anyway. He said the timing was good and told Trey to go the hell away and get rested up for a change. He wished Trey a fun vacation. Oh yeah, lots of fun. Trey hauled himself out of bed and pulled on some khaki shorts.
    It was kind of hard to pack. On the one hand there was the farm, which meant old jeans and T-shirts. And they'd get dirty, which meant he needed a bunch of them. On the other there was the store, and it would be good to have some nicer clothes to work in. The map had shown the town to be right on the coast, and Trey figured he should pack swim trunks. He spent an unconscionable amount of time hovering between board shorts and his Speedo, thinking about the beach and Josh, before packing both.
    And then there were his good clothes. Not suits or club clothes, obviously; he wasn't crazy. But there were a couple of things in Trey's closet he only now realized he'd bought because he wanted to imagine Josh seeing him in them. It felt incredibly stupid but nonetheless Trey packed the blue silk shirt that brought out his eyes and the expensive jeans that hugged his ass perfectly. He might never wear them on this trip. Probably wouldn't. Still, he'd have them. He ended up with three suitcases, for a one-week trip.
    Trey hauled the cases downstairs, outside, and loaded them into the trunk of the car. He checked the oil and washer fluid. Back inside, he took a look around the condo. The kitchen was pretty clean but he scrubbed the sink and ran the disposal. He gave all the plants a good soaking and covered the pots with plastic to keep them moist. He pulled the milk and perishables out of the fridge and took the trash out. Then he realized it would have been smart to wait with those things until after breakfast. Or even after dinner. Trey stood in the carport next to the trash can and leaned his forehead against the post. He was too queasy to eat dinner anyway. Jesus, I'm a mess.
    He got into bed and found himself wishing he could call Charlie. It had been years since they'd been that close, but Trey suddenly needed that deep slow voice telling him that he was fine and normal and beautiful. He pulled out his phone, and scrolled up his contacts list, and then stopped. Charlie was off in France for the summer, on some kind of book tour. It was some ungodly hour over there. Trey's insecurities weren't Charlie's problem anymore. He checked his email, actually thought about calling his goddamn mother , before he decided her being innocently thrilled that he'd have time with Josh wouldn't help. He stuck the phone in the charger and turned out the light. It was a long, sleepless night.
    The next morning Trey didn't bother to brew coffee, since he'd already ditched the milk. He just threw his laptop bag into the passenger seat and pulled out. The roads were quiet, well quiet for L.A. anyway, at five thirty a.m. on a Sunday morning, because only obsessed fools were on the road at that hour. Although apparently there were more obsessed fools than you'd think. Trey hit the brakes fast to avoid rear-ending one of them, and decided he needed to be more alert than he was. He pulled through a Starbucks for a Venti fix of caffeine and dairy, before heading out of town.
    CHAPTER 2
    Josh winced as yet another car pulled up in the parking area in front of the round barn. The sign on Aunt Julie's door said the store opened at ten a.m. on Sundays. And yet there had already been half a dozen people who had showed up, knocking on the door and peering in the windows, and then stomping off to their shiny SUVs as if it was an insult for him not to have opened up by eight in the morning just for them.
    This car was smaller and more battered than the last few behemoths. Josh took another look and saw that it was Trey unfolding himself from behind the wheel. For a moment he froze, just watching Trey move, watching him stretch in the sunshine and look around. Dammit, he looks good. And that was a very dangerous thought to be having. Josh hurried out, looking anxiously down the driveway for the next Hulk-mobile as he did so.
    "Trey. You're here!" At the last minute Josh turned a hug into a pat on the shoulder. That last comment of Trey's about keeping his hands to himself had really stung, but Josh was happy to have his friend there even if it meant keeping a rigid distance. "Come on. Get your ass in here before someone arrives and sees the door open."
    "What?" Trey reached in the car for a computer bag and