Free Chartreuse by T. E. Ridener Page B

silence.  Kasen wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen here.  A
handshake? Just a goodbye?  He wasn’t very good at making friends…..that could
explain why he didn’t have any.
        
“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?”  Rowan suddenly asked.
        
Kasen blinked, feeling his cheeks heating up once again.  Why did that keep
happening around Rowan?   Oh, that’s right.  First off, he was a really good
looking guy.  Second off, Kasen was attracted to guys.  And lastly, he
might have very carelessly developed a crush on a man he barely knew, and of
whom he wasn’t even sure if he was gay.  You’re a smart one lately, Kasen. He thought to himself.
        
“Yeah,” Kasen replied, unsure if he even recognized his own voice right now. 
“That would be really cool, actually.  Though uh, there’s not too much to do
around here…”
        
But then Rowan smiled.  It was a sly smile of sorts.  He gave a small shrug,
“Who says it has to be here?”  
        
Kasen’s smile grew bigger as he nodded, finally unbuckling his seatbelt, “Then
I’ll see you tomorrow?”  He asked.
        
“Definitely,” Rowan promised. 
        
Kasen opened the door and got out, though he leaned back down to look at Rowan,
“Again, thank you,” He said.  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Uh, bye,” Then he
awkwardly closed the door before he started walking towards the steps to go up
to his apartment.  He could have kicked himself for sounding like such an
idiot.
         He’s a friend.   He told himself.  That’s all he is.  He’s new and
doesn’t have anyone to hang out with.  So just relax and be cool.  Don’t mess
this up.  He rolled his eyes at himself as he unlocked the door and stepped
inside, to see a very happy Houston. 
        
“Hey, Boy,” He said gently, kneeling down to pet behind his ears before
straightening up again.  “Boy, have I got a night to tell you about.”

 
     
    Chapter
Nine
     
        
It was the loud banging on his front door that damn near caused Rowan to fall
out of his bed.  Napoleon barked, but otherwise, he didn’t move from the
floor.  It took Rowan a good thirty seconds before he realized that it wasn’t a
dream, and he needed to get to the door to see what the hell was going on.  He
reached for his shirt, blindly, and tugged it on before he got up and walked
hastily down the hallway to the front door.  He peeked through the peep hole to
see a man standing there.
         Thump Thump Thump.   It made him jump a little.  But then he opened the
door and stared at the man in a bit of bewilderment. 
        
“Can I help you?”  He asked, yawning.
        
“Sorry. Didn’t know you’d be asleep,” The man said. 
        
Rowan’s thick brows shot up on his forehead.  If he thought he’d heard a
southern accent before, he was clearly mistaken.  This man had the southern
drawl down pat.  He was a fairly tall man, but he was just as round.  He wore a
red and black flannel with a pair of overalls, and a brown tattered cap that
covered his salt and pepper hair.  His beard though, was an entirely different
thing.  He reminded Rowan of hillbilly Santa.
        
“It’s no problem,” Rowan insisted as he ran his hand through his messy hair. 
“What can I do for you, Sir?”
        
“Well,” The man started. “My names Lloyd Bruckhemer.  That there’s my boy
Cecil,” He nodded towards the red truck in the driveway where a thin, blond boy
was sitting in the passenger seat.  “Don’t be rude, Cecil.  When I introduce ya
to people, ya wave.  Manners, Son.”
        
Rowan tried very hard not to laugh.  So he just nodded to the boy who waved at
him.  Then he focused back on Lloyd when he turned back around.
        
“Well ya see, I got me a problem,” He continued.  “One of my huntin’ dogs ain’t
doin’ too well.  I’ve ‘ad her fer ‘bout six years an’ this mornin’ she just
didn’t