Where The Heart Is: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations story

pulled the matted hairs, causing bits of white to flake off.
“I’m glad you stayed.”
Something in Sommer’s voice made Dean look up. Sommer was watching him with an oddly serious expression. A strange mingling of warm comfort and near panic blossomed in Dean’s chest. He was so not ready for Sommer to look at him like that. Like he was someone Sommer might consider keeping.
He forced a smile. “Yeah. Me too.”
They stood there staring at each other for a long moment. Dean fought the urge to fidget under Sommer’s penetrating gaze.
The smell of coffee brewing wafted from the kitchen. Sommer blinked, seeming to shake himself. “Um. Okay, I’m gonna go help cook. Take a left down the hall when you leave the bedroom, the kitchen’s at the end of the hall. See you in a few minutes.”
“Yeah, see you.”
With a quick smile, Sommer slipped out the door and shut it behind him. Dean stumbled to the bed and dropped onto the mattress. He sat there until his trembling stopped, then went into the bathroom to clean up.
When he sauntered into the bright, airy kitchen a few minutes later, belly scrubbed clean and clothes back on, Sommer was nowhere to be seen. Kerry and Ron sat at the table, hunched over coffee, eggs and toast.
“Where’s Sommer?” Dean asked, heading for the coffeepot.
“Outside, talking on the phone.” Kerry waved a hand toward the cabinet to the left of the one Dean was currently peering into. “Mugs are in there. Sommer’s got homemade cinnamon rolls in the oven.”
“Wow, that was fast.” Taking a large blue mug with white ducks painted on it from the cabinet, Dean poured himself a cup of rich-smelling coffee. “I know I didn’t take that long cleaning up.”
“He makes several batches at a time and freezes them. That way, he can just take some out of the freezer and stick ’em in the oven when he needs it.” Ron shook his head as Dean spooned sugar into his coffee and topped it with a generous amount of the toffeenut creamer sitting next to the coffeepot. “You’re ruining it, man.”
“Hey, if this is as strong as it smells, it needs extra fixing up to keep it from taking the lining off my esophagus.” Dean took a careful sip. The dark, smoky flavor exploded on his tongue. “Oh yeah. This would totally get up and walk away if I didn’t cut it with the sweet stuff.”
The back door swung open and Sommer walked inside, a cell phone in his hand. He kicked the door shut and fell into a nearby chair. “Damn.”
“What is it?” Kerry asked, a forkful of scrambled eggs halfway to her mouth.
“One of my reservations for tomorrow night canceled. That’s the third one in the last two weeks.” With a deep sigh, Sommer leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands. “I’m losing more money all the time. If it weren’t for the winery and Karaoke Night, this business would’ve folded months ago. I don’t know what to do.”
Sommer looked sad and lost, and Dean’s heart went out to him. Moving to the table, Dean set his mug down and eased himself into the chair beside Sommer. “Have you thought about hiring a financial advisor?” he asked, resting a hand on Sommer’s shoulder. “My boss was telling me once that he hired one when he first started up Bay City Paranormal Investigations. He said he would’ve been out of business within a year without her help.”
Sommer’s shoulders hitched in a halfhearted shrug. “I’ve thought about it, yeah. I’m crap at money management, so I could sure use the help. It’s just…” He trailed off, dark eyes inexplicably sorrowful.
“Just what?” Dean prompted. He raked his fingers through Sommer’s satin-soft hair.
“Nothing.” Sommer stood and crossed the large, airy kitchen to the oven. He flipped on the oven light and peeked through the glass. “Cinnamon rolls’ll be ready soon.”
Sipping his coffee, Dean watched Sommer from under his eyelashes. The man seemed troubled, and something told Dean the business’s financial problems weren’t entirely to blame.
He bit back the urge to prod Sommer until he told Dean exactly what was bothering him. Just because he fucked you doesn’t give you the right to stick your nose in his private business. Leave it alone.
After an awkward couple of minutes, conversation started up again. While they polished off the cinnamon rolls, Dean managed to partly satisfy his curiosity about Sommer by asking endless questions about winemaking. Sommer answered every one without