Justin makes a shocking discovery when he shows up for Molly's birthday party. Just what will the 'dessert' be?;)

I felt somewhat better after taking a nice, long shower, but I was cutting it much too close to catch any shuteye. So, instead, I concentrated on getting ready for Molly's party and securing the present I had for her. It may not have been what she was seeking, but I hoped she would like it just the same.

I scrounged through my closet, relieved at least to know that my father would be satisfied enough with me wearing something along the lines of a slightly upscale, but still casual and comfortable type of clothing for dinner. After all, it was just going to be the family and we would be in the private dining room, so I knew it wasn't necessary for me to get too dressed up.

I finally settled on a pair of dark gray linen slacks, black leather shoes and a short-sleeved, royal-blue polo-style shirt. Tucking it in and adding a simple, black, leather belt, I combed my hair into place and spritzed on a small amount of the good cologne that my mother had given me for Christmas last year. Shrugging as I examined myself in the mirror, I decided I was presentable enough for a family birthday meal as I grabbed my gift for my sister and proceeded out of my suite and down the hall toward the back steps that led to a separate entrance for the private dining room.

Dressed in a pair of black, linen slacks, black Armani loafers, and a maroon-colored, silk, long-sleeved shirt open slightly in a "V" pattern at the neck, Brian carded his fingers through his hair absentmindedly, giving it an attractive, carefree-type look as he walked down the hall toward the dining area for dinner. That morning, he hadn't noticed all the watercolor landscapes and the candid charcoal portraits lining both sides of the hallway, but since he was a few minutes early, he paused to admire them as he headed toward Molly Taylor's birthday dinner.

He noticed they were all signed by the same artist - someone with the initials of "JT" - and were quite good. Each subject on the drawings seemed to jump off the paper, the details incredible and so realistic. He could make out each wrinkle in an old woman's hand, each lush eyelash in a baby's smiling face, and every thread of a colorful beach towel that a German shepherd was lounging on at the beach. No part of the portraits was left unfinished or hastily done.

The brushstrokes on the watercolors were expertly applied, mainly using ocean pastel tones of aqua, peach, and light blue for most of the beach scenes. One, however, was vastly different and caught his eye immediately. It was a painting of a surfer in profile, perched on his board, feet planted apart and knees bent as he caught a giant wave. The look of ecstasy on his face was immediately recognizable to Brian: it was the same look he had whenever he caught a big wave. This watercolor, unlike the others, was cast in sweeping shades of dark blues and blacks, contrasting dramatically with the stark, white color of the waves cresting and the light-colored sand of the beach. A lighthouse was drawn in the far left corner, one that Brian recognized from his many trips out to catch the waves earlier today.

He stood there for several minutes, admiring the painting, until at last he realized it was getting late and he turned to leave, making a mental note to ask Taylor about the artist later.

Walking into the main dining room, he spied the hostess from that morning standing behind her station and nodded at her, receiving an interested smile in return. He was used to such displays wherever he went, even though he knew she was wasting her time.

"Good Evening," she greeted him, flicking her hair back and tucking it behind her ear in an obvious flirting gesture. "Table for one?" she asked politely, hoping to glean some information out of the handsome man.

Brian shook his head. "No, actually I'm dining this evening with Mr. Taylor and his family for his daughter's birthday," he explained.

She nodded with a smile. "Of course. Right this way, Mr...?

"Kinney," Brian told her smoothly as she nodded, filing that away for later use. She held out her hand in a silent gesture for him to follow before he shook his head. "It's okay; I'll just work my way back there," he advised her. "I had breakfast there this morning, so I know the way."

The woman hid her initial disappointment as she nodded. "All right. If there's anything I can do for you, though, don't hesitate to ask."

Brian smiled. Don't hold your breath, he silently thought. "Thank you," he told her aloud as he threaded his way back to the separate dining room leading off from the main room. He wasn't exactly looking forward to attending a teenager's birthday celebration, but he figured he could tolerate it for a while at the sake of maintaining good business relations with her father. Tomorrow, though, and the rest of the week, he vowed, was going to be strictly pleasure; lots and lots of pleasure.

Justin's POV

I glanced at my cellphone, noticing I was running five minutes late. I could just imagine my father's displeasure over what he would perceive as a social gaffe, even though it was just family tonight. Actually, my tardiness was not my fault. I wound up having to stop long enough to help guide an elderly woman that was depending on a walker over to the elevators. She had seemed so unsteady on her feet as she entered, however, that I impetuously decided to accompany her all the way down to the main floor - one floor below the dining room floor -and help her over to the lobby where she was meeting her son. By the time I did all that, it was inevitable that I would wind up being late.

"Well, fuck it," I muttered as I grasped Molly's present and walked briskly down the back stairways toward the private entrance leading to the smaller dining room, hoping my father would be in a decent mood. I knew he was supposed to meet with that ad agency representative earlier this morning; I only hoped he wound up liking what he heard, because it would probably make all the difference in whether he was in a good or a bad frame of mind.

Inserting the key card into the slot, I pushed the handle down and entered, blinking a little at the difference in the brighter light. In the back of my mind, I realized there was someone else in the room besides me and my family - I could make out a dark-haired man sitting with his back to me at the table - but I focused, instead, on making my apologies and catching my breath. "Hi, Molly!" I greeted my sister with a smile as she smiled back at me. "Happy Birthday!"

I turned to my father, knowing I would need to hurriedly explain my faux pas. "I'm sorry I'm late," I added as I stood there a little out of breath. "I...I had to help out an elderly lady in the elevator so she could get down to the main lobby."

My father's initial look of disapproval regarding my tardiness slowly transformed into understanding (fortunately) as he nodded. "Well, come in and sit down," he told me. "And I'll let the wait staff know that we're ready for the first course." He rose from his seat, apparently in search of the waiter, as he added, "In the meantime, your mother can introduce you to our guest."

I nodded as my father turned around and headed toward the main dining room; walking closer to the table, I peered over at my mother with one eyebrow arched in curiosity. I was under the impression it was going to be strictly a 'family-only' occasion tonight.

My mother smiled affectionately at me. "Honey, I'd like you to meet Brian Kinney, your father's advertising representative," she told me as I nodded. As I approached the side of the table nearest me, the dark-haired man turned to look at me and my eyes threatened to bulge out of their sockets as I realized who it was. I didn't need an introduction, even though this was the first time I had actually heard his name.

The man's face broke out into a pleased smile as he replied, "Well, if it isn't Gi..."

"Justin Taylor," I hastily supplied, knowing exactly what he was going to say. And while I still had no idea what he meant by that, I had the distinct impression that it was not exactly an affectionate term. I thought about adding the obligatory 'nice to meet you' after my name, but first of all, we had already met, and second of all, at that moment I wasn't sure if that pleasantry applied to him or not.

Kinney stuck his hand out to shake mine as I was forced to accept it. As we touched, my entire body temperature seemed to rise at least one degree by each second that he held onto my hand, and I could feel an electric current almost running between us. After several seconds, I finally managed to pull my hand away, both relieved as well as surprisingly disappointed, as we stared at each other.

"Do you two know each other?" Molly had to ask (of course) from her place at the other side of the table. Brat - she always did pick up on everything. I had learned at an early age that if you didn't want any particular piece of information to get out, best make sure your younger sister was out of the house first.

Fortunately, I was spared having to explain as he replied, "I saw your brother out at the beach today by the lifeguard station, placing baby pelicans back in their nests and kissing boo-boos on little scraped knees."

I rolled my eyes. "I did not," I told my mother and sister as Molly giggled at the look on my face. "I take my job very seriously."

"I can attest to that," Kinney replied smoothly with a smile; I had to turn away from that handsome, cocky face. "He was all business out there." I could hear the unspoken words after that. Way too much business. But it was all his fault.

My mother nodded as my father came back into the room. "Did you introduce Brian?" He asked my mom, who nodded. "Well, then, have a seat, Justin; dinner's about to be served."

I looked around for another empty seat besides the one right next to our 'guest,' and found to my consternation that there was none. Damn it.

My father frowned as he sat down next to my mom. "Justin, have a seat," he repeated a little more curtly this time as I finally nodded back at him and slid the chair out next to Brian Kinney to take a place at the table. I placed my small, gift-wrapped box down next to me as a brief, uncomfortable silence prevailed.

"Is that for me?" Molly finally piped up. Like I said, don't say - or do - anything in my sister's presence unless you want it broadcast.

I nodded as our father told her she could open it after dessert. I had to smile at her disappointed expression before I finally decided I needed to attempt to make some polite discussion with our 'guest.' "So, uh, Mr. Kinney; my mom says that you're the person working on the new advertising campaign for the hotel?" I asked as I turned to look into his eyes. Damn, up close they were even more amazing - like both light green and gold dueling with each other in the same iris.

"That's right," he said as I tried furiously not to focus on his lips now. I could feel my face warming as he stared at me, and I felt even hotter as he added, "And, please, since I feel we know each other already, call me Brian." He said his name like a song, soft and silky.

I took a deep breath, feeling everyone's attention on me as I managed to mutely nod. I wasn't sure I could speak at the moment, anyway, but fortunately I was saved from finding out as my father spoke up.

"He's done a damn good job on the promotion, too," he said with a smile. "I wasn't sure I wanted to take some of his advertising where he wanted it to go, but the more I did some research into it afterward, the more I realized that he's quite savvy in wanting to focus on the gay market."

I gulped. Did my father actually just say what I thought he said? "The gay market?"

"Yes," Brian answered for him as he turned to look at me. Like a heat-seeking missile searching for its target, I lifted my eyes to stare into his as he said, "One of the most affluent demographics on earth right now; at least for the hospitality industry. Wouldn't you agree...Gidget?"

I groaned as everyone's eyes looked at me from across the table. "Uh...yeah, I guess so," I finally managed to say. "I hadn't really thought about it much."

Of course, Molly noticed what he said right away. She giggled again. "Did he just call you Gidget?"

"Uh, Molly, it's nothing, it's just for..."

"Yeah," Brian quickly replied with a broad smile, obviously enjoying my discomfiture. "I didn't know what his name was earlier, so I started calling him Gidget. He kind of looks like one, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes and let out a huff as my sister giggled again and my parents eyed me with extreme curiosity. Great... I raised my water glass and took a large gulp, thinking it was going to be a very long night.

I also knew that I would definitely have to research what that name meant later tonight, although I wasn't sure I really wanted to know.

The rest of the evening progressed fairly smoothly with polite, non-controversial conversation and a tasty meal, followed by a small, chocolate cake with cherry icing made especially for Molly by the resident chef of the resort.

After coffee had been served with the dessert, it was time for my sister to open up her presents. I had to admit I was both a little surprised - as well as secretly impressed - that Brian had actually brought my sister a present. It was a small, gold chain with a matching gold dolphin on it. As my sister raved over it, my father explained how Brian had called him on his cellphone earlier to ascertain what my sister's interests were. Upon determining that she loved dolphins among other things, he had gone to the trouble of purchasing the necklace from the resort's gift shop for her. I had to grudgingly acknowledge that his gesture had been a very considerate one, and Molly was delighted with her gift, asking our mother to place the piece of jewelry around her neck where she now wore it proudly.

As the evening progressed, I let my guard down just a bit as events proceeded rather uneventfully; when it came time for Molly to open up her present from me, she was a little confused when she opened up what appeared to be a DVD of a movie she already had, only to find a folded-up drawing inside that depicted a scene from one of her favorite films that I would be using as a basis for a mural I would be painting on the wall above her bed. When I explained what it was, she got so excited over the prospect that she actually scooted back from her chair and rushed over to me to wrap her arms around my neck and give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Justin!" she screamed in delight as I smiled.

"You're welcome, Flipper," using my pet name for her. I laughed as she huffed in reply before taking her place back over at her seat.

All was silent for a moment before Brian quietly asked me, "I noticed several paintings and drawings hanging up in the hallway out there. Those weren't done by you, too, were they?"

I nodded as a look of respect seemed to appear on his face and he replied, "They're damn good; especially the one of the surfer."

"Well, I'm sure Justin would love to let you have it, then," his father replied politely as I blushed at the unexpected compliment. I couldn't help feeling just a little smug, too, that an outsider had actually noticed that I had artistic talent. Take that, Dad...

I smiled sweetly over at him as I replied meaningfully, "Yeah...I'd love to let you have it."

Brian smirked at me. "I bet you would," he answered so low that only he and I heard what he said. A little louder, he added, "I'll be more than glad to pay for it."

I would have liked nothing better than for him to 'pay for it,' but I knew my father would have none of that, so I replied instead, "No. It's yours. You can pick it up on your way out when you leave," I told him.

"Speaking of which," he said unexpectedly. He smiled over at my parents as he told them, "The meal was great - and I appreciate being invited to your birthday, Molly," he told my sister, who was eating up all the attention she was getting from our handsome guest, kind of like a pet getting praise from its owner. "But I'm kind of beat. I think I'll head back up to my suite now. I was out surfing most of the day and took a tumble when I was shooting a curl."

"Oh!" my mother exclaimed in surprise. "Did you get hurt?"

"No; not really; just banged up a little," he replied convincingly. I couldn't help snorting incredulously under my breath over his audacity, not as quietly as I had thought, because my parents turned to peer over at me curiously.

I scooted back from my chair and stood up, trying to ward off any awkwardness. "I think I'm going to head back up to my suite now, too. I have an early patrol tomorrow."

My father nodded. "Good idea. How did today go?" he asked me.

"Okay," I told him. "Kind of boring, actually. Had one woman who needed minor treatment for sunburn and a little girl who got separated from her mom." I paused before adding, "Oh, and there was this clown who pretended he was hurt just to get attention." I turned to stare directly over at Brian before I added, "There's always one in every bunch who likes to be the center of everyone's universe. But he wasn't hurt at all. Just showing off for his admirers."

Before my father could make me elaborate on my statement, I turned to my sister. "Happy Birthday, Molly. I'll start painting your mural this weekend." She smiled at me and nodded before I turned to go, relieved to be finally dislodging myself from an uncomfortable situation. Brian Kinney could go his way and I could now go mine.

"Mr. Kinney," I acknowledged Brian formally with a nod as he stood there with his mouth partly open; no doubt wondering what glib comment he could make in response to what I had just said. I thought I was safe from any further verbal sparring with him, however, when he remained silent as I reached the door, only to hear my mother call out, "Justin? Why don't you take Mr. Kinney up the back way with you and spare him the trouble of waiting for the public elevators? You know how slow they can be." I cringed, my back to everyone, as I heard her add, "And be courteous and go get that painting that Brian wanted of yours, too, okay?"

I closed my eyes briefly before composing myself. I can do this, I can do this, I kept repeating in my mind as I turned around and pasted a smile on my face. "Sure, Mom," I said as I ignored Brian's heated stare on me as I passed by him - giving him a perfect view of my ass - before I quickly walked out and leaned against the wall of the main dining room, taking a deep breath. How could one man be so aggravating and intriguing at the same time?

"Oh, no," I murmured, horrified, ignoring the curious stares of dining patrons nearby as I heard my sister asking Brian if he was 'married or had a boyfriend.' I had to admit that I found myself holding my breath for his answer as I heard him reply politely that he wasn't - right after my mother softly chastised Molly for even bringing it up. Why would I care about that, anyway? "Aargh!" I muttered as I pushed myself off from the wall and went in search of my painting.

Returning a few minutes later I walked over and placed the framed piece of artwork in his hands. I felt a certain sense of pride as I saw Brian studying the painting with an almost awed expression on his face. I wasn't quite sure why that would make a difference to me, but oddly it did.

I cupped my hand over my mouth as I let out a big yawn; the sugary cake, in addition to the heavy meal beforehand, was adding to my feeling of tiredness. "I'm going to go up now," I announced to no one in particular as Brian pushed back from his chair and stood up to join me.

"Mr. Taylor, Mrs. Taylor...Ms. Taylor," Brian drawled like Rhett Butler, making Molly blush like, well, like a schoolgirl. "Thank you again for dinner; my compliments to your chef; my steak was cooked perfectly," he told my father as he nodded. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Brian," my mom said with a smile as Brian nodded. It was obvious that my mother was thoroughly charmed by him now. Why was I not surprised?

Brian peered over at my father to advise him, "You have my cell # if you need me."

My father nodded. "Go enjoy yourself," he told him. "You've more than earned it," he admitted. "And feel free to contact the front desk if you need anything. Justin can help you, too, if you need it."

I turned red as Brian peered over at me and responded in what sounded like a sultry tone of voice (at least to me), "I'll...definitely keep that in mind." Bidding everyone goodnight, he turned to follow me out the rear door that led into the hallway.

As soon as the door was closed and we were alone, I leaned against the wall and spun around to face him, almost knocking both him - and my painting - off balance in the process. "Why didn't you tell me you were having dinner with my family tonight?"

He shrugged. "I didn't know you were part of the Taylor family, Gidget."

"Don't CALL me that!"

"Why? You don't even know what it means...Do you?" he challenged me, one perfectly-manicured eyebrow raised in amusement. He clutched the painting in his left hand as he used his other one to brace himself against the wall next to my shoulder, leaning in so we were facing each other and only inches apart. I found myself trying to remember how to breathe as I stared into his face.

"Well...it's...I'm sure...It can't be..." I sighed in frustration. Very glib, Taylor, I silently chastised myself as I groaned inwardly at my lack of speech. "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure it's not complimentary!" I finally spat out, glaring at him as he laughed.

"Go ahead!" I growled. "Laugh at me! I really don't care, you moron!"

Brian grinned. "I'm not laughing at you, Gidget, I'm..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know how the spiel goes," I told him as I reached up to push his arm aside so I could leave; I found that his arm was a lot stronger than it looked, though, as he continued to hold me captive against the wall.

"Do you mind?" I groused, my eyes flashing in irritation. "I'm tired and want to go to bed." My eyes widened as he leaned in impossibly closer now, so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face. "It's...It's your fault that I'm so tired anyway."

"Really?" he whispered, seemingly pleased by that statement for some reason. "How's that?"

I was finding it a little hard to concentrate with his eyes boring into mine, but I managed nonetheless to remind him, "Well, you're the one who was playing hotdog out there and faking that injury."

He scoffed. "I didn't realize how strenuous that was on you. Want me to show you what strenuous really means? I can tuck you into bed," he offered, leaving no doubt exactly what he meant by that.

I rolled my eyes, feeling my cock rebelling against me at the thought. "No, thanks," I told him, secretly proud of myself. "I think it'd be way too crowded in my king-sized bed with you, me, and your ego."

He chuckled then, catching me a little off-guard; it seemed to even make his eyes light up as he smiled. "Well, if you're sure..."

I finally managed to shove his arm out of the way, noticing he still didn't budge from his spot facing me, however. "I'm sure," I told him as I tried to sidle past him, sucking in a breath as our groins brushed together. My heart jumped, however, as he grabbed me by the upper arm to hold me in place just before I could manage to escape. "What are you doing? Let go of me!"

"You still owe me some mouth-to-mouth," he told me as his eyes darkened. He licked his lips subconsciously and continued to stare at me before he finally murmured, "Fuck, you are so..."

"No...No, I don't owe you anything," I whispered hoarsely before he could complete his thought, but my body was saying just the opposite of my mouth as he smirked in realization. "Let me go..." This time my entreaty was repeated with a lot less conviction, however, and I found my eyes lowering to his cranberry-colored, slightly parted lips just before I felt his mouth on mine.