Cleats in Clay Read online

  “Dear Lord,” Bobby moaned.

  Odis traced his tongue along Bobby’s jaw, hesitating when he got to the chin and near Bobby’s mouth. Then he worked his way down to the center of Bobby’s chest and traced the collarbone with his tongue back toward Bobby’s armpit. Odis hesitated again, then raised his mouth to kiss and lick at Bobby’s Adam’s apple.

  Bobby moaned again, enjoying this unusual attention. Odis seemed to be targeting the things that made him male. Bobby had to reach down and adjust himself—the denim of his jeans had quickly turned into a tight prison for his dick.

  Odis rose and gazed into his face.

  Bobby gazed back. “You can go to the armpit, it won’t gross me out.”

  Odis chuckled. “I didn’t think it would, but it stinks of deodorant.”

  Bobby laughed. “Never had anybody tell me deodorant stinks before.”

  “It does when I want to smell you.” Odis leaned in and sealed his lips around Bobby’s mouth before he could reply. The kiss was light and curious.

  Bobby raised his hands and put them on Odis’s back. He was going to pull him in closer, but Odis broke the kiss and stood up. “Sorry, all that coffee. I’ll be right back.”

  Bobby stood and watched him go into the bathroom and close the door. He looked over at the bed. He thought about going over there, but Odis was being hesitant and he didn’t want to appear presumptuous. With another thought, Bobby pulled off his T-shirt and scrubbed the jersey material inside his armpits, hoping to remove some of the offensive deodorant. He dropped the T-shirt on top of his jacket when he heard the door open again.

  Odis returned from the bathroom. “Sorry,” he said. “I can’t….” His eyes zeroed in on the tattoo above Bobby’s left nipple.

  “No promises, remember? It’s cool.”

  Odis approached Bobby, holding his hand out toward the hummingbird tattoo. He hovered his hand above the skin art briefly before pulling it away. “No, I mean, I’m a shit, I have to apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “Earlier, your name really didn’t ring any bells.” Odis sat at the table and grabbed his mug. “After you started your story about the Series, though, I did remember. And I didn’t stop you. I made you tell me the whole thing.”

  Bobby sat down. “Hey, it’s not like you forced me or anything.” He smiled when he saw Odis’s gaze. The man couldn’t keep his eyes off the hummingbird. “It’s okay. I’d never had to say it out loud like that before. It was kind of… liberating.”

  “Cathartic?”

  “Show-off. Pullin’ out those five-dollar words on me,” Bobby teased.

  “You’re not a brick. Don’t even try to pull that off.”

  “A brick?”

  “Most men are like bricks, solid and hard and dense. You’re not a brick, Bobby Lane.”

  “Oh.” Bobby looked in his empty mug. “Seeing’s how I’m not a brick, then, maybe we could get some food?”

  “Feed you? Lord, you’re just all kinds of trouble, boy,” Odis teased as he went to the kitchen. He browsed around in the fridge. “I’m not exactly set up for hosting. How about a bologna sandwich?”

  “Bologna? What are you, twelve?”

  “Don’t make fun of the fixins or I’ll stick you with peanut butter and jelly.”

  “That’s a thought.” Bobby smiled. “I haven’t had peanut butter and jelly in a long time.”

  “All right, then, classic grape or strawberry banana?”

  Bobby stood with his empty mug. He also grabbed Odis’s mug from the table and went into the kitchen. “Strawberry banana? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that flavor in the store.”

  “Prob’ly not. It’s one Gertie makes for the B and B.”

  Bobby filled the two mugs with coffee and got the flavoring powder from the cabinet. “Let’s go with that one, then.” He stirred in the flavor and took the mugs back to the table.

  “All right,” Odis agreed, getting out the bread.

  “Be right back,” Bobby said, excusing himself.

  Bobby entered the bathroom. It was a small, compact space much like he expected, except for the huge shower. It took up one whole curving wall, a space large enough to house four people comfortably, maybe eight people if they were really friendly. At least a dozen chrome heads protruded from various locations of the polished lava-rock interior.

  He chuckled to himself as he peed. It didn’t look like a shower—it looked like a religious experience.

  Bobby had to fight the urge to just strip off his jeans and climb in. Then he noticed the yellow washcloth hanging on the rod near the shower door. The washcloth was still damp, so he used it to scrub his armpits, then along the treasure trail of hair where he liked to spray his cologne. Bobby always tried to be optimistic.

  He returned to the lounge area and saw the sandwich, neatly cut into two rectangular halves, waiting in front of his chair. Odis was sitting at the table with his own plate. Bobby looked down as he sat. “Toasted?”

  “Well, of course. The peanut butter rips up the bread if you don’t toast it first.”

  “You artists, just can’t do anything normal.” Bobby chuckled before taking a bite. The bread was very lightly seared, just enough to give a slight crunch but leaving the bread soft in the middle. Bobby decided he liked the sandwich that way.

  They ate quietly, each taking momentary glances at the other.

  Odis gazed at Bobby’s bare chest. He still had a muscular look, but the muscles appeared slightly softer, as if Bobby hadn’t been faithful with his workouts of late. Odis thought it was a nice look, more natural somehow. His eyes kept drifting back to the deep blue ink. “You do realize what a big fat tease you are.” He smirked. “Sitting there all shirtless and all.”

  “Oh, is that a complaint? ’Cause I can put the shirt back on.”

  “No, merely an observation.”

  “You seem to like my tattoo,” Bobby said with a grin. “Just making my own observation.”

  “I do. I’m surprised sometimes with the high degree of art some tattooists are capable of.”

  “I’d think they would hafta be great artists. If people are permanently applying something to their skin, they don’t wanna get stuck with some half-assed scribble.”

  Odis laughed. “Point made. Never thought of it that way.” He waited until they finished their food and then walked over to Bobby. He leaned down for a closer look at the hummingbird. The inking was quite impressive; the rich blue and highlighting green-and-yellow colors shimmered with the iridescence of the real thing. “It’s extremely unique, I hope you realize. How much did you shell out for it?”

  “A hundred bucks, all together.”

  “No, you’re shittin’ me….”

  “I’m not. Nate and I both got one right after that first Independence Day. Back then, twenty years ago, getting married wasn’t even a dream yet, so we thought up the idea of matching tattoos. For fifty bucks each, we both got one over our hearts.”

  Odis pushed in on the skin with his finger, watching the iridescent shimmer. “I’ve never even heard of tattoo ink like that.”

  “It wasn’t ’til years later we even realized how special it was. She was a huge biker dyke who lived right off campus. When we told her the reason for the tattoos, she got all mushy and just did an outline, told us to come back. She spent two weeks altogether on the tats. I have no idea where she found that special ink.”

  “So you’re thirty-eight?”

  “I’ll be forty April 1.”

  Odis snickered. “Then you’ll be an old man like me,” he teased. He lightly put his palm on Bobby’s chest and rubbed his fingertips along the tiny words inscribed along the bottom of the tattoo. “Why hummingbirds?”

  “When we got to her place, we hadn’t really decided on anything. Nathan had suggested a pink rose, but that seemed kind of girly to me, just a huge invitation for locker-room teasing. So she showed us her scrapbook, and one of the pictures was of a work she did with some roses and a
hummingbird.”

  “And it caught your eye.”

  “Yeah, it seemed so playful and flirty and kind of romantic.”

  “And the hummingbird didn’t seem girly?”

  “Well,” Bobby said with a shrug. “It’s mostly blue. That’s a boy’s color.”

  “What’s the ‘nip and ripple’ mean?”

  “That’s our initials pronounced out—N, I, P and R, P, L.”

  “Oh, so you’re Robert, then.”

  “Robert Petri Lane, and before you even ask, yes, my mom was a huge Dick Van Dyke fan.”

  Odis sat back on his heels. “Wait, Robert Petri?” He got up and went into the bedroom area and started rifling through some kind of filing cabinet. “I remember that name, kinda sticks out.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  Odis searched in another drawer and then yanked out a folded printout. “Here it is.” He brought the paper back to the table. It was the original order sheet Nathan had filled out online. Odis put his hand over the bottom section of the page to hide it as he showed the printout to Bobby. “That’s why Bobby Lane didn’t register with me. He’d made it out as a gift for Robert Petri.”

  “I kinda use that name as an alias sometimes.”

  Before Bobby could look at the page too closely, Odis whisked the printout away and put it back in the filing cabinet.

  Odis returned and hesitated briefly before he leaned down and kissed Bobby. He sank down to his knees as Bobby opened his mouth. This quick kiss tingled with more heat than the previous effort.

  Odis lowered his mouth to the hummingbird and licked at the colored ink on Bobby’s skin. He turned his head, his nose pointing towards Bobby’s armpit. Bobby put his hand on the back of Odis’s head and gently pushed him toward the hairy space under his arm.

  He didn’t hesitate this time. Odis buried his nose and mouth in the space, reveling in the masculine smell and taste of Bobby.

  Bobby moaned in reply as his groin twitched.

  Odis rose back up and kissed the end of Bobby’s nose before gazing briefly into his eyes. “Okay, stud. I’ve got my inspiration. Time to go.”

  “Go?” Bobby frowned. “You’re kicking me out?”

  “Yes.” Odis nodded. “You’re a huge distraction. Can’t get any work done if you’re here. Get over to the B and B. Gertie can get you some real food and a bed while I work.”

  “Work?” He groaned. “What a shit. Get my engine all revved, then throw me out.”

  “I’m sorry. Only for a bit. Let me get this outta my head, and I’ll call ya back.”

  Bobby fished up his shirt from the floor.

  “I’m not trying to be mean, I’m sorry. I just… I just need to focus on work.”

  “Fine,” Bobby conceded as he pulled on his jean jacket. “You better call me.”

  Odis smiled. “Oh, that I can promise. I’m not done with you yet.”

  “Better not be.” Bobby tried to look mean but didn’t feel as if he quite pulled it off, and his disappointment showed through. “I guess I’ll go….”

  “Green button opens the gate, red one closes it.” Odis watched as Bobby went through the door, then climbed the steps. Damn if he didn’t have a gorgeous man’s butt.

  Odis went to his kitchen. He opened the cabinet door and looked at the prescription bottles. He hadn’t taken any of the arthritis pills for the day yet, but he closed the cabinet without getting any. The stupid pills made him so fuzzy and clouded that working was difficult. Instead, Odis opened one of the drawers and loaded his pipe from his pot stash. Toking didn’t make the pain go away, but it helped him not care about it so much.

  Bringing the pipe, Odis walked over to the studio. He took a deep toke while looking at the equestrian piece. After Bobby’s defense of the horse, Odis opened the kiln and put the raw clay sculpture inside for firing.

  Once the piece was situated and the kiln turned on, Odis gathered up his carving tools and brought out some bricks of wet clay, then threw it all onto the worktable. His fingers hurt and complained, but he took another toke and ignored them. Odis then set to work on the clay, starting the slow task of teasing and shaping the sticky material to copy the image in his head.

  Chapter 3

  BOBBY made it back to Hasting’s Bed and Breakfast just before dark. He parked and entered the vestibule area of the Victorian-style home and pushed the buzzer.

  A portly man breezed in and greeted him with a vibrant handshake soon after. “Bobby Lane? I’m John Hasting. Good to meet you.”

  “Hello.”

  John ushered him into the hallway. “I couldn’t believe it when Gertie told me you’d been by here earlier. What brings ya out to our neck of the woods?”

  “Just dropped by to see Odis about a sculpture.”

  “Did you find what yer looking for?”

  “Don’t know yet,” Bobby answered honestly.

  John pulled him conspiratorially close. “Just so ya know, I thought that was a real crappy deal ya got. I hope yer suing the pants off the bastards. Don’t care what side your bread is buttered on, nobody deserves to get treated like that. Enough to turn a man from watching baseball altogether.”

  Bobby just shrugged. “Thanks for the support. I was planning to retire after the season anyway, though.”

  “Don’t matter. The way they got the media all stoked, they deserve to have it turn around and bite ’em in the ass.”

  “There’s some legal action in the works. Shouldn’t really discuss it, though.”

  “A’course not. Keep your hat on tight.”

  Gertie stepped in from the dining room. “Howdy again, Mr. Lane. I see ya made it back in one piece. Just settin’ the table for some dinner. Come on in. Don’t suppose my brother fed ya.”

  “Thank you,” Bobby said as John led him into the dining room. “And we had some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

  “Honestly, he eats like he’s still in junior high. Miracle the man survives out there,” Gertie thought aloud as they all sat down to the table with a dish of pot roast and vegetables. “Not a vegetarian, I hope? Guess I shoulda asked earlier.”

  “No, ma’am. Man’s gotta have meat, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Gertie chuckled. “Just call me Gertie. Dig in, boys.”

  They each filled their plates with food and sampled a few bites before Gertie looked over at Bobby. “So, other than the wacky weed, what were you boys up to out there?”

  At her frankness, Bobby nearly choked on his roasted potato. “Not much, just had some sandwiches and talked. Then he said he was inspired and kicked me out.”

  John smirked. “Damn lucky dawg. I bet he shared his good shit too.”

  Gertie nearly dropped her fork as she studied Bobby more closely. “He said ‘inspired’?”

  “Yeah, that’s what he said.”

  “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Gertie appraised Bobby as she took another bite. “A fine looker like you’s prob’ly turned more than one straight man’s head. At least he’s working again. I don’t think he’s stepped foot in that studio in over a year.”

  “How bad is the arthritis?”

  “Prob’ly worse than he complains about, I’m sure. But it’s not just that. He kinda lost his fire when Tina left. Hasn’t done a real show in over four years.”

  John toasted the air with his glass. “Good riddance too. Never liked that bitch.”

  “Now, now,” Gertie scolded her husband. “Be nice.”

  John looked over at Bobby when he finally clued in to the previous conversation. “You mean, you and Odis?”

  “Just talked, mostly. Not a big deal.”

  “Oh,” John disagreed, “it is a big deal. Odis is buttoned up tighter than a nun. With Marsha, he wouldn’t even hold hands in public after they’d been married five years.”

  Bobby just ate, trying not to dwell on it, but he remembered how Odis had held his hand as he took him back to the studio.

  “Hm, never thought I’d have a
brother-in-law.”

  Gertie swatted John’s hand. “Don’t be so presumptuous.” Then she turned to Bobby. “But John’s right. My brother doesn’t jump into relationships lightly.”

  Bobby was starting to feel a bit on the spot and decided to change the subject. “So, what was that you were saying about his ‘good shit’?”

  John nodded. “When he started smoking regularly about ten years ago, he never trusted buying it off the street, so he started growing his own. Just a couple of plants, for personal use. Won’t ever sell any, no matter how much people beg.”

  “Other people know about it?”

  Gertie nodded. “Small town, ya know. Everybody knows everything. Wouldn’t be surprised if people start dropping in here just to see a celebrity. But I haven’t told anybody other than John.”

  “I kept it quiet too. Figured the last thing you need is more gawkers.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Gertie put down her silverware. “We’ll see if the quiet lasts. How long ya in town for?”

  “Hadn’t planned to stay at all—was just going to pop in and out. But Odis said give him a couple of days, so I’ll hang around a few, I guess.”

  “Well, we don’t have people standing in line for rooms, so I’ll set you up with one, like I promised.”

  “I’m not a freeloader. I’ll pay the normal rates.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Like you said, there’s not exactly a line, so I’m paying my share.”

  “All right, then.” Gertie didn’t argue more. “There’s a clothing store down the road to the south, mostly western stuff, but if you didn’t bring any luggage, ya may want to pop over. They’re open ’til eight.”

  “Appreciate it.” Bobby stood and grinned at Gertie. “And thank you for the excellent meal.”

  “No trouble.”

  John loaded up another helping. “See ya later.”

  Bobby made his way back to the car and headed for the clothing store. He turned up the radio but couldn’t stop thinking about Odis. The man Bobby had spent the day with and the man Gertie and John had described at dinner just seemed like two totally different people. Maybe Gertie just didn’t know her brother as well as she thought she did.