Bravo! Brava! is an anthology scheduled for March release from MLR Press. The antho contains stories from Jet Mykles, Jim Bowie and yours truly and was edited by Kris Jacen. The following is taken from my story, Woman’s Weeds. I had a lot of fun with these boys and I hope you enjoy their story.
Blurb
Lights, Makeup, Scripts, Costumes . . . Performances!
Jet Mykles, J.P. Bowie and Kimberly Gardner entertain us with the magic and mystique of the theatre. From Shakespeare’s gender-bending comedies to the glamour of a Musical Revue, we’re whisked backstage for an intimate glimpse of the drama, romance and rumors (and maybe even a little mystery) behind the curtain. Find out what it takes for a man to carry off a skirt and heels. Follow the men who wait in the wings for those behind the fake breasts and makeup. BRAVO! BRAVA!
Copyright 2009 by Kimberly Gardner, all rights reserved.
Ten minutes later with two bottles of a good merlot safely tucked in behind the driver’s seat, David made a beeline for the mall, parked his car and walked to the nearest entrance, which, conveniently, took him directly into Macy’s, Bethany’s favorite store.
Now how fast could he grab a bottle of perfume or a pair of earrings or—
“Excuse me. Would you like to try a new fragrance today?”
“Thanks, but I don’t think—” David stopped, the old mental train derailing right in mid-thought.
In front of him, only feet away, well within touching distance, stood the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.
Hair so black it looked blue fell in glossy waves around a pale heart-shaped face. Cheekbones sharp enough to chip ice, a full, soft mouth and delicately pointed chin completed the picture.
God, he was gorgeous.
“Yes,” David said, suddenly regaining his power of speech.
The bluest eyes David had ever seen gazed up at him. “Yes, what?”
Yes, anything you say.
“Yes, I’ll take some of that… What is it?”
The vision laughed. “It’s called Frisson. It’s a new unisex cologne. But don’t you want to smell it before you buy it?”
“Sure.” David leaned close and inhaled. “I think it’s perfect. Just what I’m looking for.”
A slight blush stained those amazing cheeks. “I’m not wearing it. In fact, I’m not wearing any cologne.” He held up the atomizer and shook it. “Give me your hand.”
David held out his hand. The inside of his wrist was spritzed. Long elegant fingers massaged the spot.
David’s pulse jumped.
“You have to rub it in before you smell it.” The angel continued to stroke David’s wrist, the tips of his fingers lingering over the pale tracing of veins. “Here, now smell.”
David sniffed. The fragrance was light and spicy with a hint of citrus. It was nice, but nothing compared to the intoxicating scent of the beautiful man with the big blue eyes and the perfume atomizer.
“So what do you think?” The angel blinked impossibly long lashes. And was he really wearing mascara and eyeliner?
“I’ll take it.”
“Great.” The smile that blossomed felt to him like a ray of sunshine on an otherwise cloudy day.
He found himself leaning, if ever so slightly, toward that warmth the way a flower grows toward the sunlight.
“If you’ll step over to the counter, Ginger will ring you up.”
David’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced toward the checkout where the girl, Ginger, was assisting an older woman who was slowly making her way through each and every sample bottle on the counter.
“Can’t you ring me up? She looks a little busy.”
“I’m not really supposed to.”
“I’m in kind of a hurry.”
Even white teeth worried a plump lower lip. At last he nodded and set down the atomizer. “Okay. I guess it’ll be all right just this once. Follow me, please?”
Anywhere you want, baby.
David followed the few steps to the checkout. As the young man slipped behind the counter, he let his gaze slide down the lithe body clad in dark chinos and white button-down shirt. The cut of the pants was loose but not so much that David couldn’t see the tempting swell of a very pert, very round little ass.
David’s mouth watered and his cock twitched. Oh, how he wanted to grab a double handful of that adorable ass and crush their bodies together as he devoured the kid in three quick bites.
“Will this be on your Macy’s charge?”
David shook his head. Pulling out his wallet, he extracted his credit card and held it out. “Visa.”
He took the card. Their fingers brushed.
Thank God he was wearing a long shirt because David was getting hard, right here in the middle of Macy’s fragrance department, for God’s sake!
“Could you possibly gift wrap that for me?”
“It’s not for you?” He handed David a pen and the slip to sign.
“No, it’s a birthday present.” David signed his name.
A slight frown appeared between finely arched dark brows. “Girlfriend?”
“Um, no.” David handed the slip and the pen back across the counter.
“Boyfriend?” The lashes lowered and a smile flirted with the corners of those pretty lips.
Was this angel flirting with him?
“Not currently.” David swallowed. “What about you?”
Crouching down, the salesboy—he couldn’t be more than twenty—retrieved some wrapping paper from under the counter and set it down beside the box.
“I don’t have a boyfriend either.”
Oh. My. God. He is flirting with me.
Dropping his gaze, David focused on the slim hands. The paper was neatly folded around the box. A piece of tape was torn from the roll and affixed to the white and gold wrapping.
“Do you think maybe I could take you out some time?”
The hands stilled.
Please, let him say yes. David sent up a brief prayer to the patron saint of lonely, overworked gay directors.
“I get off in ten minutes. Maybe we could have coffee or something.”
Yes!
No!
Damnit!
He lifted his gaze and met those melt-you-on-the-spot blue eyes. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go to my sister’s for dinner.” He gestured at the box on the counter. “It’s her birthday and I promised—”
“No problem.” Ribbon was wrapped around the box and a fluffy bow fashioned. “Maybe tomorrow then.”
Clearly Saint Fabulous was not hearing him. At this rate he’d never get his hands, or mouth, or anything else for that matter on this oh so sizzling example of male hotness.
“I have auditions tomorrow.”
“Oh? Are you an actor?”
“Director, Sort of. I mean I am a director, but it’s just a little, nonprofit community theater, nothing major.” When his angel said nothing, David ploughed ahead. He was so not going to blow this, not if he could help it. “I’m directing a production of Twelfth Night at the Hartwell Community Theatre. It’s a company called Fresh Voices and we’re just getting off the ground. I’m one of the founding members so…”
David forced himself to stop. He could go on for hours talking about the theater company he and Bethany had started a year ago with all the money they each had in the world. He occasionally had to remind himself that not everyone was as enamored with nonprofit community theater as he was. And the last thing he wanted to do was bore the most promising potential hook-up he’d had in months.
“Really? Twelfth Night? I love that play.”
“Yeah. We’re holding auditions tomorrow night. But I’d really like to—”
“Excuse me.” A heavyset blonde in a fuzzy pink sweater and black sweat pants nudged David aside and plunked a box down on the counter. “I’d like to buy this and I’ve been waiting for the last ten minutes.”
Pushy bitch.
David opened his mouth to tell her to wait her turn and the phone behind the counter rang.
With an apologetic smile, his angel picked up the receiver. “Hello? Fragrance counter.”
Maybe he should look for a new patron saint.
Written by Kimberly Gardner
As early as the seventh grade, Kimberly remembers slashing her favorite rockstars and reading romance. So it’s not surprising that her two passions, romance and putting pretty boys with other pretty boys, should come together in her writing. Moliere said, “Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, then for a few close friends, then for money.” Kimberly is delighted to finally be doing it for money.
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