1 Chapter 1

“There was a young man who lived in a shoe.”

“I think it’s an old lady who lived in a shoe, with too many kids,” my next door neighbor, Brent, said as he joined me.

I crossed my arms on the roof of my car. It was wet, because I’d been washing it, and I grimaced momentarily. That earned me a laugh from Brent.

Looking across the street, I said, “That’s a shoebox house. Right?” The house looked like one—one level, rectangular, with a flat roof. “And our new neighbor is male.” That was obvious when the man in question came around from the side of the house, wearing cut-offs and a tank top, pushing a lawnmower. “Ergo…”

“Okay.” Brent grinned. “You win. Do we know who he is?”

“You mean you haven’t dropped in with a plate of cookies so you could find out?”

“Adam…” Brent shook his head with amusement. “That’s more Eliot or Frank’s thing, and you know it.”

He was right. Eliot and Frank were definitely homebodies. Eliot owned a restaurant and Frank had a home remodeling business. They lived in one of the eleven houses around Rainbow Lane cul de sac—where I owned one of the corner houses. ‘I’ being Adam Moore. There were four couples on the Lane—Eliot and Frank, David and Luke, who were married, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, and Mr. and Mrs. Dunn. The Dunn’s son, Neil, lived with them in the largest house on the Lane—when he wasn’t away at school. The rest of us were single, and unattached, males.

The Nelsons and the Dunns were the first residents, back when a developer bought up the property, built a variety of homes on the newly created cul de sac, and put them up for sale. Then I bought the house on the corner and told Brent about the place. He jumped on the chance to own his own home. Soon, the word got out, and now, with the newest guy on the block having moved in a week ago, every home had an owner.

Back to what Brent and I were talking about—the cute guy in the shoebox house.

“How old would you say he is?” Brent asked, eyeing the guy’s athletic build, which the tank showed off to his advantage.

“Hmm. Maybe your age or a bit younger?” Brent was twenty-eight to my thirty-one.

Brent nodded. “I’d say so. Single?”

I shrugged. “Hard to say. I haven’t seen anyone stopping by his place, but then I don’t watch it twenty-four-seven.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I don’t have visitors, either, but I’m hardly celibate.”

“True,” I agreed with a laugh. In general, most of the men living here were very circumspect about their love lives, unless they were already a couple sharing one of the homes. I suspect that’s in deference to the two straight couples who live on the Lane. Not that they care, I’m sure, but still—flaunting the fact the rest of us are gay isn’t necessary. Everyone knows and we leave it at that.

“So…” Brent looked at me. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.”

I put on my T-shirt, which I’d taken off before washing my car, and we crossed the street.

The young man rested his arm on the handle of the push-mower, looking speculatively at us, unsmiling. For a moment we seemed to be at an impasse. Then I held out my hand. “Welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Adam Moore.”

He shook it quickly. “I’m Reed Fleming.”

“Brent Lewis,” Brent said. “I live next door to Adam.”

“I know. Well, I mean, I’ve seen you both coming and going, so…”

Brent laughed. “You logically deduced we’re neighbors.”

“Yes.” After a moment’s hesitation, Reed asked, “Would you like something to drink. It’s kind of warm today. I have iced tea, or beer.”

“Tea sounds good,” I replied.

We followed him around to the patio at the back of his house. He waved us to the lawn chairs, went inside, and soon returned with a tray holding a pitcher of tea and three glasses of ice. Setting the tray on the small table next to the chairs, he poured each of us a glass of tea, and then sat.

“How do you like the neighborhood, Reed?” I asked after taking a drink.

“So far, I love it. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Not a lot of kids running around all the time.”

“Were there, where you used to live?” Brent asked.

“Oh, yeah. I had an apartment in Brentfield. You know where that is?”

“Yep. Across town. A nice enough area but definitely full of families with children. Right, Adam?”

I chuckled. “Since I grew up there, with three other siblings, I have to agree. Kids rule the streets. No wonder you wanted out.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I like kids, one-on-one. But…” Reed shook his head.