Barnaby Lassiter has had a thing for attorney, Nathan Llewellyn, since he began working at the law firm as an admin assistant. Too bad conservative Nathan doesn’t seem to know the flamboyant Barnaby is alive.
But a chance to take care of Nathan when he is ill, leads to a date and then so much more. Nathan continues to have doubts. Barnaby is the hottest man he’s ever known, but their differences worry him. He’s seen too many relationships that don’t make it.
All of his fears are realized when he sees the popular, too appealing Barnaby in action at a club. When Nathan thinks their differences are too much to overcome after all, Barnaby is left with a broken heart and an uncertain future. And Nathan’s left wondering if he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life by letting Barnaby go.
"Um, Sorenson. I can't get away from the office. Are you contagious?"
"Probably, maybe. I don't know. Maybe it's cyanide poisoning."
Travis laughed again. "I think you'd be too dead to call me."
Another wave of queasiness lurched in his stomach. "I guess."
"All right, I'll send Barnaby over," Travis said, referring to his admin assistant.
Oh, no. Barnaby would be the last person he'd want to see him looking like this. As if his normal appearance wasn't bad enough.
He cleared the frog in his throat. "Can't you just have it sent by messenger?"
"Sending Barnaby will be quicker. I have to go. I hope you feel better. Call me if there's anything else."
The dial tone sounded loud enough to break his eardrum. Frowning, Nathan tossed his cell phone onto the bedside table.
Crap, he hadn't felt this sick since he was a child. He ran his fingers through his dark, sweaty hair, and then reached for his glasses from the table. He was practically blind without them.
Nathan had briefly considered the corrective eye surgery everyone seemed to tout these days, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. If they screwed it up, sure, he could sue, but he'd still not have eyesight back.
As far as contacts ... well, he'd tried them a few times but they never felt comfortable. So, he stuck with glasses.
Looking around the room, it was less blurry than before, but it still seemed to sway just a bit. There was no hope for it, though. He'd have to get up to answer the door. He hadn't thought to tell Travis to have Barnaby just leave it on the doorstep. And something told him Travis would have ignored him anyway.
He swung his legs slowly out from under the sheet and blanket and forced himself to sit up. His head swam with the effort and he blew out a steadying breath. He had to have a fever. Touching his forehead with his palm confirmed his suspicions. Burning up.
For several long moments, he stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, willing the queasiness to go away or at least dissipate. Nathan did not pray, he couldn't remember even the last time he even though about praying, but he did now. Prayed for the strength to make it long enough to take the Sorenson file from Barnaby.
Maybe, if he just stuck his arm out of the door and reached for it, Barnaby wouldn't see him. Any other time he'd be delighted to see the man. Well ... okay, more like nervous as a cat, but that was only because Barnaby was seriously hot and Nathan had a teensy tiny crush on him. One would think him too old for crushes, but what else could it be?
Every time he saw the beautiful blond with the spiky hair, earrings, and lip gloss, his stomach fluttered, his balls tightened, his pulse raced, and he could barely catch his breath. It felt like the high school crush he had on his science teacher all over again.
He slowly rose from the bed, spreading his arms a little to steady himself. All right, so far, so good. His next move was to make it to the bathroom. One, he had to pee, and two his bathrobe hung on the back of the door.
Nathan made it to the bathroom, where he did his business, washed his hands, and then grabbed his robe. He eyed the shower longingly, but didn't figure he had the strength to pull it off taking a shower. He shrugged into his robe and tied the sash.
When he made it into the kitchen, Nathan made himself a cup of tea, which he couldn't manage to drink, went into the living room to rest on the couch, and waited for the doorbell to ring.
* * * *
The buzz of his doorbell startled Nathan awake. Blinking rapidly, he struggled to remember where the hell he was.
Wiping his hand across his face, he rose and hobbled to the front door, but not before the doorbell buzzed several more times. He peered out through the peephole expecting to see his little bleached blond obsession. Instead, he saw someone with carefully coiffed sandy blond hair.
Okay, not Barnaby. So, Travis had sent someone else after all. He pushed aside his weird sense of disappointment and opened the door.
The young man standing there was definitely holding a large red accordion style folder with the name Sorenson on it. The sandy haired guy wore navy pin-striped dress pants, a crisp white shirt, and a navy tie. And though his face was bare of any makeup or other adornments, he had the same delicate beauty and full pouty lips as Barnaby.
Frowning, Nathan took the file from the man's outstretched hand.
"Finally. I was going to maybe call an ambulance or something." That was most definitely Barnaby's sexy, almost raspy voice.
"Barnaby?" he asked, hesitantly.
Those tantalizing lips curved into the familiar sexiest damn smile Nathan had ever seen. But all too soon the smile faded. "You look hellacious, Mr. Llewellyn."