Where The Heart Is: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations story

“All right, don’t tell us,” she grumbled. Opening the car’s passenger side door, she lowered herself into the seat. “Let’s go. Loser buys the lattes at Open Eye.”
“You’re on.” Dean pointed at her. “That’s just the incentive I need to win this time.”
She smirked over her shoulder as he slid into the backseat and shut the car door. “We’ll see.”
Dean let the teasing expression melt from his face when Kerry turned around. He rested the back of his head against the seat and stared out the window, wondering why the imaginary soul mate in his mind wore Sommer’s lopsided smile.
Chapter Six
    Dean woke before the sun Monday morning, feeling as if ants were crawling under his skin. It didn’t take much thought to identify the cause of his uncharacteristic twitchiness. He was nervous about tonight.
    Nervous. About going out with a man who’d already fucked him.
    It was beyond weird. Dean hadn’t been nervous about a date in ages and couldn’t understand why he was now.
Maybe because you haven’t actually been on a date with anyone but Kyle in so long , he mused, yawning while the coffee brewed.
He’d been with his last boyfriend, Kyle DuPree, for nearly six months before they broke up. They’d parted on friendly enough terms, considering, but Dean hadn’t had a relationship last that long since his year with Sharon. It felt strange to be unattached again. He was out of practice when it came to dating.
Deep inside, though, he knew that his rusty dating skills weren’t the cause of his pounding heart, or the fluttery feeling in his stomach. He liked Sommer. A lot. More than he should, really. That, he suspected, was the real reason for his current state of unrest.
“Pathetic, Dean,” he muttered to himself. Taking a mug from the cabinet, he filled it with coffee, doctored it with chocolate soy creamer and prepared to face a long, unsettled day.
    Dean lasted until almost lunchtime before he got to the point where he either had to get out and do something or explode. Ron was working, so Dean dragged Kerry downtown with him to find the shop Bo had told him about. Once she learned Dean was an employee of BCPI, the owner, Susan Unger, was happy to rent out all the equipment Dean needed. He and Kerry left the shop with two EMF detectors, two audio recorders, a thermal imaging camera and one stationary camera which would hook up to Dean’s laptop.
    By the time Sommer’s dark green SUV pulled up in front of the house that evening, Dean was feeling calmer, thanks to keeping himself usefully occupied all afternoon in planning the upcoming investigation. “Sommer’s here,” he called to Ron and Kerry, who were in the family room in the back of the house watching TV. “I’m off. Don’t wait up.”
    “Have fun,” Ron answered.
“And call us if you’re staying over,” Kerry added.
Dean laughed. “Sure thing. Bye, y’all.”
He bounded out onto the front porch and down the steps just as Sommer strolled
    around the front of the SUV and started toward him. A wide smile lit Sommer’s face. “Hi, Dean.”
    “Hi.” Dean raked an appreciative gaze up and down Sommer’s body. “Wow, you look hot.”
Sommer’s blush stained his cheeks nearly the color of the long-sleeved silk shirt hugging his upper body. “Thank you.” Taking Dean’s hand, he pulled him close and pecked him on the lips. “So do you.”
“Thanks.” Dean licked his lips. They tingled where Sommer had kissed him. “So, what’s the plan? Where are we going?”
Sommer gave Dean’s hand a squeeze before letting go so Dean could walk around the front of the SUV to the passenger side. “I thought we could go walk around downtown, go window-shopping or whatever, then go to Pepper’s for dinner.” He gave Dean a shy, sidelong look as he slid behind the wheel and Dean bounced into the passenger seat. “It’s not fancy or anything, but the food’s wonderful and I love the atmosphere there.”
“Yeah, I remember Pepper’s.” Dean smiled at the memories of college evenings spent at the little downtown restaurant, sharing pizzas and pitchers of beer with his friends. “That sounds like fun to me.”
“Good. I hoped you would approve.” Reaching across the console, Sommer clamped a hand onto the back of Dean’s neck. “Come here.”
Dean leaned sideways to meet Sommer’s mouth with his. He opened for Sommer’s tongue, his head buzzing as if he was drunk. Sommer’s fingers massaged his neck in gentle circles.