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neighbor’s work.

“Paranoid much?” Aaron asked.

“When I’m working on something new, I don’t like to see my other work. The work should only be inspired by what I see in my mind, not what else I’ve done.”

“Artists,” Aaron said, rolling his eyes with mock sarcasm.

“Hey, I’d agree, if I wasn’t one,” Marc said with a laugh.

“What do you plan on doing with all these paintings?”

“Didn’t you hear about my upcoming show?”

“Oh, well, Paolo mentioned something about visiting Lauren’s gallery last week, but…is it really happening?”

Marc nodded. “In two weeks, so I’ve got a lot of prep work.

Lauren doesn’t want the summer tourist trade to miss out on my work, so that explains the elevated schedule. Hey, sorry, I’m not being a good host, can I get you something…cup of coffee, maybe a glass of wine?” He looked up at the clock on the wall. “It’s late enough, isn’t it?”

“I’ll have if you’re having,” Aaron said.

“Be right back—no peeking.”

“Scouts honor,” Aaron said, his hand raised in the air.

“If you were a scout, you probably seduced them all,” Marc said, and then disappeared downstairs, his feet light on the hardwood steps.

Aaron walked back to the window, again taking in the amazing view of the ocean. He breathed in the ocean air, a sense of contentedness washing over him. He knew the feeling was temporary though, since in a matter of months this world of theirs could be just a distant memory. All of the residents of Eldon Court might be forced to sell, move, scatter to all parts of Wonderland. Truth be told, if such a scenario happened, Aaron wasn’t sure he could remain in town, to watch his home be turned into a money-grubbing resort. Well, to be witness to such a travesty was beyond him.

He was about to turn away from the view when two men emerged from the path that led down to the beach, their laughter caught by the gentle wind. Aaron did a double take as he realized he knew that laugh, knew the first man…Paolo. The man behind him, shirtless, powerfully built, and hairy-chested, was none other than Parker St. John.

Since when did the two of them know each other, and worse, why did they seem so chummy…and why was Parker half-naked? All those questions had one easy answer. Aaron knew his partner well, and his heart sunk as he realized that Paolo was again stepping out on him. While he could handle the sexual betrayal—he’d done it before, was guilty of it himself—the fact that he was fucking with, and no doubt being fucked by—the enemy, that was too much to absorb. He was about to rush out of the sun-baked studio and confront the two men when Marc suddenly reappeared, a bottle of white wine and two glasses set upon a silver tray.

“Ta-da—service, with a smile,” Marc said. “You okay? You see a ghost up here?”

Aaron realized he must have paled at the sight of Paolo and

Parker. “Nah, didn’t eat much today, probably low blood sugar. Stupid me, happens all the time.”

“You sure you want the wine?”

“Definitely,” Aaron answered a bit too fast.

Wine poured, the two neighbors pulled up a couple of stools, Marc sitting in front of his easel, Aaron at his side. “So, you want a sneak peek?”

“Only if you want to,” Aaron said.

Marc set his wine glass down on the wood floor, then lifted the thin sheet off the canvas. What he revealed was a splash of muted colors, and Aaron had to focus a bit to make out just what the hell he was looking at. It appeared to be two figures, and as much as they took up the bulk of the canvas, they somehow blended into the background. In the center of the canvas was a bright red heart, so vibrant it was nearly beating off the page.

“I know, it’s weird. I like to dabble in abstracts,” Marc said. “Two men so in love, they share one heart. Pretty simple notion, really.”

“But powerfully told,” Aaron said. He peered in closer, looking at

the two figures, one of them seemingly floating above the other, body darker than the small figure. “You and Rich? Kind of an obvious message, there, you’re the bottom. Rich is the dominant one—what’s that dark, fuzzy blur, his chest?”

Marc laughed. “He does have a great chest,” he said.

“Yes, he does,” Aaron agreed, remembering the time he and Rich had been forced to be with each other, how that dark carpet had felt when he’d plowed him from behind. Aaron scratched aimlessly at his own chest, where the hair was starting to grow back after a few months of constant waxing.

“But to that supposed dominance, if you want to see it that way, that’s fine, it’s what art is about,” Marc said, “but I like to think of it as two men independent of each other, able to be themselves, connected by their heart…their independence the key to their love.”

“Okay, wow. You’re good, Marc, really talented. You gonna put this one up for sale?”

“Nah, I think this one is going to be an anniversary present,” Marc said. “It’s a few days after the gallery showing, and if you want to know a secret, Rich doesn’t know about the show yet. So, promise me, you won’t tell him.”

“Mum’s the word,” he said, “In fact, I don’t think I’ll be telling anyone on Eldon Court, they all seem to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Where the hell is everybody?”

“Rich is at the bank, I’m sure you know where Paolo is.”

“I mean Edgar and Jack…talk about homebodies. One of them is always around.”

Marc quickly looked down, seemingly to retrieve his glass, but

Aaron saw through the subterfuge. “Okay, tell me. We’ve had enough trouble on Eldon Court the last few weeks, and if Danvers Converse and Parker St. John have their way, it’s only going to get worse. So, what happened?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell,” Marc said, taking a large gulp of his wine, “but you’re right, you need to know. Everyone who lives here does.

There was an incident the other night, Edgar was attacked…and before you

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