Warning! This is a tale about men loving men. If you find this disturbing - click off. If it's unlawful for you to read this - click off. If you under age - good luck if you can get away with it.

This is not a story for getting your rocks off. Just thought I'd let you know so you won't waste your time if that's what your looking for.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy my writing.

I appreciate feedback and do my best to respond to it all. I may be contacted at:

J S.Collection@Verizon.Net

Those Golden Eyes

Chapter 19

Dave untied the bow that held the six journals and opened the first one dated 1938-1941. Joe, who had tired of bending over Dave's shoulder, stretched and suggested they all see what the rest of the mansion looked like.

"Dave?" Joe called out softly to Dave, who had is nose in the journal.


"Close that book and come on."

"Mmm 'kay," Dave said without looking up. He read:

[ This shall be the beginning of my thoughts

on what will happen in my life.

Aug. 21, 1938

I turned 17 two days ago. I start my last year of upper school in 2 weeks. I have one year to go before I start getting a regular monthly installment from Grandfather's will. It will be good not to have to ask for money from Father. One would think he was a poor man the way he doles out my meager allowance of $35.00 a week.(Dave did a quick calculation in his head and figured that $35.00 was equal to around $300.00 today) I think that Father will begrudge me being independent from his pocketbook.

My birthday party was quite the success. Caroline came. What a beauty. She is so sweet, too. Several of my friends were swooning over her. She is mine, though. She really likes me, I think.

There was another beauty at the party. Cold and haughty she is. Beautiful like an ice sculpture. Someone said her dad has more money than even God. But they are nouveau riche. Her name is Edith Upton. She ignored me though the whole afternoon and evening. SheÆs got her eye on Buddy. The Man is crazy about her. Well, he is welcome to her. I've got my sweet Caroline. That all I need.]

Dave's reading was interrupted as a strong breeze swept over the books, blowing the opened one off of the desk. Dave grabbed for it as it slid across the desk, but missed. He leaned down to pick it up. The rest of them slid to the edge and toppled off on Dave's head. Dave scrambled to gather them up. He stacked them back on the desk top and stood up, keeping his hand on top of them. He looked to see if either of the other two men had seen what had happened. Joe was outside the door. And Clyde was sitting on the couch reading.

"Dave, you can read those later. Come on, let's go explore," Joe said, sticking his head back into the room.

Clyde put down the book that had grabbed his attention the moment he had pulled it from the shelf, laid it down on the big old leather couch and stood up. Both men looked at Dave.

Dave carefully tied the cords back around the stack. He picked up the bundle, clutching it to his chest, and followed Clyde and Joe out of the study.

"Let's see what Edith's study looks like, first." Joe suggested.

"Certainly." Dave responded.

Clyde led the way through the dining room to Edith's study. The door wasn't locked, so the three men trooped in.

Dave stepped inside the door and looked around. He shivered. The room was chilly compared to the rest of the house, as though someone had left the air conditioner on over night. Neither Clyde nor Joe seemed to notice the change in temperature.

The room was decorated as a young girl's bedroom would have been all in white and pink. The cases of dark-bound books stood out harshly against the soft pastel colors, as did the Corinthian leather blotter and black utilitarian telephone on the top of the desk.

Dave moved cautiously into the room. He looked at the items on the desk more closely. What caught his eye was the photograph of a young man in military dress. He looked vaguely familiar. The man in the photo reminded him of someone, but Dave couldn't quite figure out who. He walked over and picked it up to read the inscription. "To Edith, the love of my life. I will always be with you in spirit, Buddy." Dave wondered if the Buddy mentioned on the first page of the journal was one and the same. He wondered if the cold beauty that was also mentioned in the journal was Mrs. Way. He felt there was a tragic story to be discovered here. Joe looked over his shoulder at the photo.

"Dave, is that a photo of Bill? It looks just like him except heÆs dressed oddly."

"No, the man's name is Buddy and that," he pointed at the woman in the Photo, "is Edith Way, Bill's mother."

"So this guy isn't William, Bill's dad?"

"You saw the painting of William in his study. This is definitely not him."

"Hmm." Joe kept his thoughts to himself as he turned to look at more of the room.

There was a painting of a beautiful young woman on the wall behind the desk. Dave knew from the brief description on the first page of the journal and the inscription on the photo that it was of Edith. He couldn't see how the harridan that had screeched obscenities at him each time he ever saw Edith Way could have ever been that beautiful. Joe stepped up and tugged on the right edge of the frame. It came away from the wall and he almost dropped it in surprise.

"No hidden safe here." He said, as he hung it back on it's nail.

"No, Edith's safe is in her bedroom." Clyde said.

"Well, shall we head upstairs?" Dave asked.

Dave laid the stack of journals on the big table in the center of the foyer at he foot of the grand staircase. He tightened the bow and turned to follow the other two men up the stairs.

At the top of the staircase Clyde stopped.

"To the right is Edith's wing and to the left was William's."

Dave wondered at the difference in tenses as he mention their names. Maybe he felt that Edith's spirit hadn't quite let go of her worldly possessions. And William was years gone.

"Shall we toss a coin?" Joe asked.

A sudden cold breeze blew down Dave's neck. He shuddered. He looked at the other two to see if they had felt it. Neither Joe nor Clyde seemed to have noticed it.

"Did you feel that?" Dave asked.

"Feel what, Dave?"

"That cold breeze."

"I think your imagination is getting to you, babe.

"Anyway, I would like to explore Bill's dad's rooms first and Bill's too," Dave said, not even glancing toward the other wing.

"Let's do it." Joe said like an eager kid.

Clyde caught Dave's eye and grinned in amusement as he nodded toward the hall down which Joe had disappeared. Dave headed in that direction as Clyde followed.

"I've never been in this wing. So it is all as new to me as it is to you. I would assume that the rooms at the end were William's as it is in the Edith's wing."

Before they got to the heavy oak double doors leading into the master suite, they heard Joe in the room adjacent to it.

"Dave come in here. It's a memorial to Bill."

Dave stepped into the room and gasped. It was a young boy's room. A single bed in the corner next to the window. A chest of drawers and a student desk with a chair and a big club chair were the only pieces of furniture in the room. They were all of an earlier period, but looked like they were brand new except for the club chair; it looked well used. What was amazing was that the walls were cover in framed photographs of Bill from babyhood to soon before William's death.

As Dave studied the ones of Bill's later life, he realized that all the shots were taken covertly. He recognized the backgrounds of many of them. Some were taken in the bookstore, others around the campus and some even around their home.

And many of them were shots of Bill and Dave together; some in moments of light intimacy. There was one blow-up of Bill and himself holding hands and looking into each other's eyes that sat on the desk. It looked like it had been posed for. He wondered what the moment had been about, and how the shot could have been taken without them being conscious of it. The background was blurred so Dave couldn't identify the location of the shot.

"The man really loved his son." Joe commented in a quiet reverent voice filled with awe.

"I wonder if Edith ever ventured into the room." Dave said.

"I seriously doubt it," Clyde commented. "She lived in her own little contained world and seldom ventured out. If you will notice the key that opened this door was on the small ring that was attached to the large ring, and there is not a matching key on the large ring. Those were William's personal keys. I attached them into the large ring which had been Edith's before handing them over today. I removed them from a sealed envelope that contained his personal effects, apparently sealed at the time of his death. Edith had given it to my care to be given to Bill at the time of her death. She said that the coroner had given it to her already sealed and that she wasnÆt interested in its contents. It will all be handed over to you, Dave, along with several other items."

Dave only nodded as he continued to study the photos.

"Are you ready to go into the master suite, Dave?"

"Sure," Dave said, coming out of his revery. As he turned to leave, framed photos on the wall clattered as though a wave had washed around the room. Dave's hair stood on end as he glanced around the room. Had he imagined that? Shaking his head, he hurried out and closed the door.

Joe and Clyde had already entered the master suite that had been Bill's father's refuge from the world. As Dave stepped into the mammoth room, Joe swept open one of the many heavy drapes that closed out the light. The entire room was covered in magnificent exotic hardwoods. Sixteen feet above their heads the coffered ceiling drew Dave's eye to its magnificence. The amount of mahogany and walnut used in it could have built a normal house.

Clyde's cell phone chimed. He turned toward the door as he answered it. "Excuse me a moment," he said into it and turned to Dave and Joe.

Please forgive me, I must take this call. I'll catch up with you when I've finished."

"No problem," Dave said as he walked toward the big king sized sleigh bed made of very rare curly teak. The bed alone screamed money. He looked for Joe who had wandered to the far end of the room. He was running a hand over the black marble mantle. Dave felt the need to be close to him and walked briskly over to Joe. Joe picked up on the need and enveloped him in his arms.

"How does it feel knowing that all of this is yours, Babe?" Joe asked as he gently rocked Dave back and forth.

"Unreal. Not true. I feel like an interloper. This place is haunted, Joe." Dave clung to Joe's waist. He turned his face up to Joe who lowered his lips to meet his. For more than a minute they kissed. Joe finally broke it and pulled Dave over to one of the large high-backed chairs. He sat down, and Dave automatically sat on his lap and laid his head on Joe's shoulder.

"Well, all of this is yours, Dave. Have you thought about what you will do with it? You don't want to live here do you?"

"Good God! No!" The vibes in this place give me the shitters. Damn! I mean shivers." Dave jumped up and paced to the fireplace and turned. Joe was laughing at Dave's combining the two words.

"I think shitters fits." He said.

" Joe, let's get out of here. I've had enough of this for today."

"Sure, babe, if that's what you want to do. We haven't gone through Edith's end yet."

"Not today. I've just got to get out of here." He took Joe's hand and headed for the door.

Joe stopped long enough to lock the door, and then turned to lock the door to Bill's room. Dave didn't wait. Joe with his long legs quickly strode down the hall to the staircase and caught up with him. Both of them hesitated at the top, looking down the hall in Edith's wing. Neither man said anything to the other as they took the stairs down as quickly as their feet could move.

Dave was nearly running when he got to the front door. He suddenly stopped, and Joe ran into him, nearly taking both of them to the ground. Only by grabbing Dave and whirling around did he manage to keep them both on there feet.

"What'd you stop for?"

"I forgot the Journals." He broke away from Joe and ran back into the house, The journals were not on the table where he had set them. Dave turned, looking around the room. He wondered if Clyde or Joe had picked them up. And then he noticed that they were strewn under the table. He dropped to his knees and started gathering them up. Something icy grazed his cheek. He reared up, his shoulder hit the table skirt. He heard the large vase topple as he scooted under the table toward the door with the journals clutched to his chest. The huge heavy vase hit him on the back of the head, knocking him out.

Joe and Clyde heard the shattering glass when it hit the floor and rushed back in. Seeing Dave laying under the table, Joe rushed over to him. Kneeling beside his prostrate lover's body, he carefully rolled him over onto his lap. Dave moaned as Joe gently felt his head. There was a large bump forming, but other than that there seemed no other harm was done to him. Clyde gathered the journals into a stack.

"He must have raised up under the edge of the table and knocked himself out," he said.

"Wouldn't the vase be on the other side if that were the case?" Joe asked.

Sitting back on his heels he studied the Glass shards and Dave's position.

"Yes, I suppose it would, so how do you explain it being on this side of the table?"

Before Joe could formulate an answer, Dave's eye lids fluttered as he groaned again, and then they opened. Slowly he focused on Joe's face.

"Edith got me a good one." Dave uttered.

Clyde let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Edith? Are you gentlemen alright? You both look like you have seen a ghost."

They both looked at each other and then back at Clyde.

"You didn't see her?" Dave blurted out.

"See who?"

"Edith Way. She was standing in front of her bedroom door."

"So you saw her too?" Joe asked. "I thought my imagination was working overtime.

Clyde gave out with another short bark of a nervous laughter.

"Really! You are both grown men. There is no such thing a real ghost."

Dave looked at Joe.

"What exactly did you see?"

"I saw Edith dressed in black. Her arms were folded under her bosom. She was standing as though guarding the door to her bedroom, with her feet wide apart."

"Clyde," Dave said turning to look at him, "that is exactly what I saw. If it wasn't a ghost, then it had to have been her in person. But she wasn't screaming at me so it wouldn't have been, would it?"

"Well, I had the unpleasant duty of having to identify her body. So I know for a fact that she is dead and buried. And I don't believe in ghosts."

"Well, there is no point in arguing about it right now. Let's get out of here."

Joe helped Dave to his feet and held onto his arm as they moved toward the door. Clyde stepped forward, opened the door, allowed the two men to exit and then followed them. When he turned to close the door, it suddenly slammed closed right in his face.

Dave and Joe looked back at him. He muttered something about strange damned winds as he hurried to lock the door.


The Journals were stacked on the coffee table in the den. Dave stared at them from the doorway, his arms folded tightly against his chest. He couldn't get the image of Edith's ghost out of his head. Joe was in the kitchen preparing dinner, the occasional clatter of pots and pans audible in the background. He was torn between wanting to be with Joe and wanting to sit down and find out what secrets the six books held. He heard his name called softly and turned to see Joe standing in the kitchen door with a pot in his hand.

"Come keep me company, babe, while I cook."

Dave smiled, relieved that the decision was made. He wrapped his arms around Joe's waist as he peered around him to see what he was concocting on the stove. Joe kissed him on the forehead.

"Umm, that smells good. I didn't realize I am starving."

Joe served up poached chicken breasts dressed with a light garlicky sauce, spaghetti carbonara, coarsely shredded carrots that had been lightly sauteed in butter with a touch of brown sugar to enhance their natural sweetness, and a salad of baby field greens with lemon vinaigrette.

Dave sat down grinning at his lover and attacked the food with gusto. Joe couldn't have been more satisfied with his culinary efforts.


After cleaning up the kitchen they settled on the sleek leather sofa with a steaming cups of freshly brewed coffee. They both stared at the stack of journals.

"I feel kind of voyeurish just thinking of reading those books." Joe muttered.

"Nonsense. You saw in the letter that William gave Bill permission to publish them if he saw fit."

"I know, but this is a little different from reading a printed book."

Dave reached over a picked up the top journal that he had started reading earlier.

"You want to read together?" He asked.

"No, I want to perused the last volume, I think," Joe said, slipping the bottom book out from under the other four. He snuggled into the nest-like corner of sofa and, having shucked his shoes, he rested his feet on the coffee table. Dave swivelled around and laid his head on Joe's thigh as he stretched out on the length of the sofa. Both became absorbed in what they were reading.

Sometime later, Dave interrupted Joe's reading.

"Listen to this.

[May 7, 1939.

I think that something has gone awry with dad's investments. He is very preoccupied these days. He hardly pays any attention to me these days. And then last night he was asking many questions about my social life. One question stuck me as very odd. He asked me how I felt towards Edith Upton. I told him I thought she was beautiful but cold as an iceberg, and that I have hardly been around her even though she is dating my best friend.

His question stopped with that answer. He became very preoccupied again.]

Dave scanned into the next page.

May 10, 1939

[Last night I ran into Buddy and Edith Upton at Wharton's Café. I was with Elizabeth Compton. He asked us to join them at their table. Edith was visibly disturbed by this. Throughout the hour or so that we were there she kept studying me. Very strange. I felt like a bug under a microscope. Afterwards Elizabeth asked me if Edith had a crush on me. I responded that I hoped not, for I really don't like her. She strikes me as a Status seeker.]

Dave flipped the page, scanning down the page through numerous entries.

[June 16, 1939

School is out for the summer. Our bunch is going to take the train up to New York to see the World's Fair. There is a festive mood in the air. I find it rather macabre with England and France fighting for their very existence while we party.

If the United States doesn't soon enter the war to save Europe from that mad man Hitler, I shall sail to England and join their fight. Dad is very much against such a thing, but I feel it is immoral to stay out of it. He must be stopped.

Edith has turned her eyes on me. Something is up. She and Buddy are still very thick. I would think he would be a fine feather in her cap. So why is she trying to get my attention?

August 14, 1939

Finally looks like something may happen. President Roosevelt has gone over to have a conference with Mr. Churchill.

Edith continues to make overtures. I don't understand her gig. She is always with Buddy. It's easy to see the fellow is smitten with her. She is all he talks about.

I'm 18 on the 19th.

October 26, 1940

Damn the Separatists. Can't they see that if Hitler wins we will be his next victim? So we have a big ocean to protect us. He'll find a way to do it if we don't stop him now.

Buddy proposed to Edith. She is considering it. I know it is her parents looking for someone of higher social standing. Buddy is so smitten. I wish he could convince her to run away and get married. ]

"This is like getting a glimpse of history first hand. Go to November of Forty-one," Joe suggested. He laid the volume down that he had been perusing.

Dave skipped several pages.

"Ah, here it is." Dave said, and started reading aloud again.

[November 19, 1941

Dad's in big financial trouble. His European investments are nil at this point. He is seeking someone one to pull him out.

November 27, 1941

The curtain has been raised. Now I understand it all. Mr. Upton wants social status. Edith is being pushed to get me.

Dad is urging me to pay attention to her. Mr. Upton has big money.

December 1, 1941

Well, the parents have struck a deal. I am the bargaining piece. If I marry Edith my father is saved. At least I'm not emotionally involved. Poor Buddy. Where does this leave him? I don't like this one bit. He is my best friend. We grew up together.

I must give Edith credit. She doesn't like this one bit more than I do. She told me that her father has threatened to disinherit her and send her back to Texas to live with her poor relatives if she doesn't go through with this marriage. Buddy's dad has threatened him with dire consequences if he doesn't step aside and let Edith go. I wonder how Upton entangled him.

I know that if I don't marry her Dad's financial collapse would kill him. And where would that leave my dear sweet mother? It would probably end up killing her, too. I can't let that happen.

I will marry Edith.

Dec. 7, 1941

My God! We've been attacked. The Japanese hit Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. We have to get into the war now.

Dec. 8, 1941

Yes! War has been declared. Now we can get Hitler out of Europe. I shall enlist as soon as this marriage debacle is completed.

Dec 9, 1941

Buddy did it. He's gone. He is now a soldier. Damn, we were going to enlist together. I guess this damned marriage is why. Who could blame the poor boy? It makes me feel like a genuine heel. But I've got to save my dad.

The date is set. 12/20. I shall enlist on the 21st.

Dec. 17, Æ41

Am so glad that I am the groom. All this flurry for a fancy wedding. It's all a sham. Just a big show to impress with his wealth. He told me to call him Dan. I will not. The ass shall stay Mr. Upton. I cringe when he tries to be friendly. It is so hokey.

Neither Dad nor Mom has smiled for days. Dad won't raise his eyes to meet mine. God, I feel like the lamb to the slaughter.

December 20,1941

Well, I am now a married man. At least in name. Edith marched into the suite and locked the bedroom door behind her. I shall spend the night on that miserable looking sofa. So much for married life.


My life is a snafu. I stood in line for and hour and half this morning to enlist in the army. When I finally got to the table I was told that I was already signed up and I am to report to Fort Sheridan for officer's training on the 26th. It seems I will be groomed to be a General's aide.

I went straight to my father to have it out with him for doing this to me. It turns out Dad didn't have anything to do with it. Upton did it. Edith is already packing to move to Washington D.C. My General is a paper pusher.

I went back to the recruiting station to see if I couldn't just be a common soldier. No luck. The die is cast.

Dec. 25, Æ41

This has been the most horrible day of my life. Having to act like a loving husband to that cold witch. What on earth did Buddy ever see in her? In front of her father she is clingy and cloying and soon as we leave his presence she is again cold and distant.

Both families got together for Xmas dinner at the Upton's. What a couple of pretentious asses. I can see why Edith is what she is. I have never seen my father like he is today. He was almost groveling at Upton's feet.

Hopefully, as soon as Edith and I are gone from here Dad won't have to associate with him so much.

I leave for Fort Sheridan tomorrow morning. I can't wait.]

Dave turned forward several pages until he came to a letter attached to a page. Joe was leaning against him reading right along with him.

[Jan.16, 1942

I received a letter from Buddy today. I had thought I would probably never hear from him again. I really wish that things had gone the way we had planned. He really is my closest friend. I think I miss him more than I do Mom and Dad.]

Joe unfolded the letter and held it where Dave could read it, too.

[Jan. 3, 1941

Dear Will,

Happy New Year.

I suppose you thought I was a coward running away without even saying good-bye. Maybe I am.

The night before I left Mr. Upton called me and told me to come over to see him. I thought that he was going to ask me about my intentions toward Edith. WRONG!

He was very straight forward in telling me what was going to happen (you marrying Edith). And then he told me he had enough dirt on my dad to ruin him for life. I didn't believe him. He pulled out a folder and passed it across his desk to me, not saying a word.

Will, I could never reveal what the photos in that folder revealed. I love my dad, but I couldn't spend another night under his roof after seeing those pictures. Thank God my mother is dead.

I closed the folder and handed it back to Upton. I was wordless. Not him though. He told me that I was to join the army the next morning. I was not to see Edith again. And that as long as I complied he would not use the folder.

Of course I did exactly what he told me to do. I went home and packed a duffel and was first in line at the recruiting station the next morning. I left a note for Dad telling him I was joining up and where he could find my car. I feel bad about not saying more but I was in shock. I didn't think I could stand seeing him then. I wish I had now. No matter what, he is my Dad and he was always there for me. I wrote to him, apologizing for leaving as I did. I made it sound like I was broken up about Edith. I couldn't reveal that I knew about him. I just couldn't.

I've had several letters from Edith. I don't know what I should feel about her at this point. I look at this from where I am now and I can see that you had little or no choice in saving your dad from financial ruin. But I am still hurt that Edith didn't even try to resist her father. She obviously loves the money, power and prestige more than me.

I know that she is now your wife, Will, but I also know you have no love for her. And knowing the both of you, I know there will never be a consummation of your marriage. You are too much the kind, considerate gentleman and she is cold, and conniving.

How can I say that about her and still be in love with her? Well, I saw a side of her once in a while that is a lovable little girl. I think that given the chance that side of her could come to the fore. But as long as her father is alive it will never happen I guess.

My first week here I was pulled for officer training. I will be given three days leave before being shipped overseas. I wish that we were going together like we had once planned. We've been best friends since we were in nursery school. Now life has torn us apart. There is this dim dread in the back of my subconscious. I don't really believe I'll be coming back from over there. And if I do survive I will certainly not go back home. So one way or another I doubt that we will ever reconnect. But always remember I was your best Buddy.]

Joe finished reading the letter before Dave and raised his eyes to his face. Dave had tears running down his cheeks. He folded the letter, wiped his face and continued scanning through the entries. He turned the page and found another letter attached to the page.

[April 3, 1941

I found this letter opened and lying on my study desk this morning. I do not understand why Edith would open my private mail and hold on to it for nearly a month before returning it to me. Maybe she does have a little human kindness in her. She hasn't spoken to me but twice since I arrived in Washington. I attempted to speak to her about the letter but she totally ignored me. We sit at the same table for meals, but I might as well not be there. She doesn't acknowledge my existence at all.]

Dave unfolded the letter and read it aloud to Joe.

[March 10,Æ41

Dear Will,

I finagled a three day leave. And went home to see my dad. I feel so much better for having done it.

I told him what had transpired with Upton. Man, it was so difficult. He cried like a child and begged my forgiveness. I told him there was nothing to forgive and that he had always been a good father to me. When I told him that I loved him he broke down and cried again. Damn it, Will, his private life is his own and it should be no one else's business. Upton is a vile evil man.

I was so upset and angry seeing my dad like that, that I went to see Upton before I left. I told him I wanted the folder and the negatives. I had complied with his wishes. He hedged. I told him that the only way that I would stay away from Edith, even though she is now your wife, was if he gave them to me. I also promised that I would kill him if he ever uttered a word about my dad. I think I probably could do that to him in cold blood. I truly hate the man. He must have believed me. He handed over the folder and negatives and swore there were no other copies. I told him again that he would die if any surfaced.

I took them home and gave them all to my dad. He acted like I had given him his life back to him. Well, maybe I did. All I know is that no one deserves to be ruined because of their bedroom activities.

The night before I left to the ship Dad invited his "friend" to dinner to meet me. I had seen him around all my life and never knew. I will not reveal to you who he is, but you, too, have known him all your life. He is a fine upstanding pillar of the community.

Congratulations on your appointment, even if Upton did finagle it. It will be so fantastic for you to be right in on the planning stages of the war effort.

I will write you again from the trenches.

Your best Buddy]

"Wow! I wonder what happened to them all." Joe said as he watched Dave refold the letter.

Dave closed the journal and stretched his arms over his head and arched his back.

"Let's find out tomorrow, I am bushed.

Joe got up as Dave leaned forward and placed the book on the coffee table. He held out his hands to Dave and pulled him up and into his arms. His eyes were burnished gold as he stared into his lover's.

"You know how lucky we are to have been born into this time period? IÆd hate to have to hide my love for you," Joe asked as his lips sought Dave's.

"Mmmm." Was all that Dave managed to get out as his passion for Joe took over and he became totally involved in the kiss.

End of chapter 19

If you enjoy my story, it'd be real nice of you to tell me. And if you hated it I'd like to hear why. I can be contacted at JS.Collection@Verizon.Net.