Forgive and Forget(13)

Yep, he had heard what he thought he’d heard. Because his life wasn’t awkward enough. Joe tried to appear as aloof as possible, but the crooked grin on Tom’s face wasn’t helping any.

“I never said that. I mean, not that you aren’t—just that I wasn’t—I mean, I’m not saying….” What the hell was he saying? He tried to find a way out of the hole Bea had dug for him, and when he couldn’t, he gave up. Not like he hadn’t made a fool of himself already. “Never mind.” He motioned to Bea with a saccharine curl of his lips. “Please, carry on.”

Tom did just that, turning to Bea with a charming smile and leaning over to whisper in her ear. Unlike Elsie, Joe couldn’t hear a word of what Tom was saying. Now he was really starting to get nervous.

“You bet,” Bea stated, winking at Tom knowingly. Again Tom leaned over to whisper, and Joe found himself leaning in the same direction. When had they started playing Chinese whispers? And why wasn’t he being let in on it?

Bea waved a hand dismissively. “He’s just shy when it comes to that sort of thing. It’s been a while. A really, really long while.”

Joe smacked his hand to his head. There was no way on God’s green earth this was happening. Had she lost her marbles?

He stalked over to Bea and dragged her into the kitchen before she started giving Tom figures and statistics. “Have you lost your mind? Why did you tell him I thought he was handsome? And please tell me you didn’t just tell him what I thought you told him. We talked about this. You remember, right? You remember the man who single-handedly destroyed my life? You have any idea what it’s like to end up on the street with nothing? I lost everything Bea, and if it hadn’t been for Officer Baker, I could have lost my life. I just can’t go through that again.”

“What are you talking about? And don’t you dare for a second think I don’t care about what happens to you Joe Applin. Who took you in and tended to you after what that no good bastard did to you? That man out there isn’t Blake. You need to stop beating yourself up for what happened. You did nothing wrong, Joe.”

It sure as hell didn’t feel that way.

“You need to forgive yourself for what happened and move on with your life. If a man looked at my butt the way Tom was looking at yours when you were talking to Elsie, I’d be enjoying him with a side of ice cream by now.”

“Oh my God!” He was going to keel over, he just knew it. He could feel the palpitations in his heart already. Joe paced. He hated pacing. “Where do I begin? The man doesn’t even know his own name! Don’t you think he has more important things to worry about than whether or not I find him attractive? Doesn’t matter how long it’s been, which by the way, your estimate of that time frame is highly exaggerated, and just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he’s ready to jump in the sack with me.”

“Why not?” Bea blinked, clearly perplexed.

Joe had no idea how else to explain it to Bea. Just because there was a hot gay man in his living room, that did not mean they would automatically end up under the sheets together, and no matter what Bea thought, Joe was not a prude. He’d had plenty of experiences with men, both before and after Blake. Maybe he hadn’t gotten very far with them, but he wasn’t completely inexperienced.

“You could do a lot worse, Joe. If I were you, I’d—”

Slapping his hands over his ears, he spun away from her. “Excuse me for a moment.” He went to the oven, pulled open the door, and dropped to his knees.

The kitchen door creaked, and Joe heard Tom’s worried voice, sealing the deal. “Everything all right in here?” From the corner of Joe’s eye he could see Tom look from Bea to Joe, whose cheek was now resting against one of the oven racks as he felt around for the right knob.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just being overdramatic again,” Bea said with a snort.

“What’s he doing?” Tom asked, bemused.

“I’m trying to bake myself.” Joe’s muffled voice echoed from inside the large appliance. “Would you mind throwing your towel over the radiator in the bathroom? And don’t let Bea give my eulogy. God knows what she’ll say.”

Bea rolled her eyes. “He thinks the world’s gonna implode or something just ’cause you figured out he thinks you’re handsome.”

There was a loud thud as Joe’s head hit the roof. “Christ, woman, you trying to finish me off? He didn’t figure anything out, because you told him! Could someone direct my hand to the right dial? I’d like to finish this quickly.”

“Stop using the Lord’s name in vain,” Bea reprimanded, smacking his ass with what he could only assume was Tom’s towel.

Was there no end to this humiliation? I’m not such a bad guy, Joe thought. I eat my vegetables, respect my elders—Bea doesn’t count and you know that, Lord. What will it take? More donations to the orphans? More volunteering at the Y? I’ll do it. Just make it stop.

“This from the woman who swears like a drunken sailor after getting one cocktail in her!” Joe heard Tom’s husky laugh and groaned as it grew closer. A hand came to rest on his lower back, and he froze. He could feel the heat from Tom’s touch even through his layers of clothing. Either that or he had somehow managed to get the oven going. This was bad, very bad.