Page 18 of Dreams and Reptiles

This kiss was slow and languid, more of an exploration than a heat-of-the-moment one like the first time. He moaned and kissed me back with a searing heat that nearly made me forget any other option than to pick him up, take him inside, and get inside.

The level of desire flowing through me wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. Yes, we needed to get to know each other better, but I knew whatever interest had flickered to life at Pride was about to become a four-alarm blaze.

Francis was struggling too. He hooked his leg around my hip, trying to get closer. His nails scratched deliciously through my ever-present scruff, and then he ran them gently over the top of my scalp. His other hand fisted my shirt and pulled me closer.

I knew the day I met him that he possessed a smoldering fire, some of it good, but he also carried the kind of fire that could burn you. From what he’d just said, it seemed to me like he’d been burned. Maybe he was looking for someone to stoke those embers. Bring new life to the good fire inside him. I’d love to do that for him. I also needed to protect my own spark.

“You know what I want?” He spoke a hairsbreadth from my lips. “I want to put a gate right here so we can visit. We can meet halfway whenever we want.”

I lifted him slightly off his toes, making him laugh.

“That sounds very neighborly. How about we plan a dinner date, and we can Zoom with Kimo, give him some ideas, and see what he thinks.”

Francis’s eyes looked wet in the moonlight. “That would be… Wow, my first artistic endeavor at my new artist’s retreat.” He covered his mouth with his hands and laughed, then fanned himself as if to keep tears at bay.

“I want to know the story behind this idea,” I said, setting him back on his feet. “I’m so eager to know all about you. Will you tell me everything on our dinner date?”

He laughed again, and his saucy smile was back.

“You might get some of it, but I’m not giving up all my secrets. A guy’s gotta have a little mystery about him.”

If only he knew how invested I was in solving the mystery of him.

“I can hardly wait.”

We said goodbye, and I wandered back to my sanctuary, thinking once more how things do happen for a reason. I wouldn’t be having a rendezvous with the gorgeous guy next door if I hadn’t decided to come out here. Yeah, I’d left friends and family in Florida, and, I don’t know, maybe I was having a midlife crisis, but I’d wanted my animals, and I’d wanted change.

Florida was full of memories for me, many of them sad—like my failed marriage and so much loss. When Grandma was in her last days, she was still coherent enough to talk, and she told me over and over that I deserved to be happy, that she wanted me to find someone to love me, “and if it’s a man, I guess that’d be all right, s’long as he can cook, I reckon. Florida will survive without you, and you need to live, son.”

I sat on the stone bench I’d put in with the radiated tortoises so I could hang out, and they wouldn’t destroy it. I had eight of them, and they were so cool to watch. It was relaxing to just observe the different designs on their shells, and how they formed a little social order. They’d come from the Central Valley—some farmer had them for about twenty years—and when he sold his farm to move to assisted living, he didn’t have a place for them to go.

Rashad, the vet I befriended at UC Davis, put me in touch with him, and I’d picked them up even before I brought the giants home. I called them the Rat Pack, though I hadn’t quite decided who was who, except for the biggest one, Frank Sinatra. He was undoubtedly the Chairman of the Board in their enclosure, bossing the others around and always eating first.

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out to find a picture of my little Chairwoman on the screen.

“Dad, how’s Elizabeth Taylor? You didn’t tell me whether she’s recovered from laying her eggs?”

“That’s why you’re calling me at, what, midnight your time?”

She huffed into the phone. “I just got home. I worked an extra shift tonight. So how is she?”

I updated her on Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, my rhino iguanas, and we talked for a bit about school, which was getting on her last nerve. She’d had to take summer classes to stay on track with her biology degree, as well as her visual art minor. She hoped to finish up at Daytona State College at the end of next year. She’d started college late, changed her major twice, and it had taken her an extra two years, as the transition to college life had been tough. Losing her brother had been a major setback, for all of us. A pang went through my chest thinking about how much it sucked that I didn’t get to have these adult conversations with my son as well.

“You’re working hard, babe. You’re going to be fine. Don’t be in a rush.”

“I know, but I want this term to be over. I want to come see the new place.”

I smiled. “It’s pretty great. Reptiles as far as the eye can see,” I teased.

“As long as there’s a bedroom for me,” she groused. “I don’t want to have to sleep on the couch like at your old place.”

When her mom and I separated, I’d moved into a two-bedroom apartment. Shortly after, I’d moved Dad in, and, within months of losing him, I’d brought Grandma out from California. With their hospital equipment and caregivers coming in and out, Shay hadn’t enjoyed staying with me. There’d been no privacy for any of us, plus it was hard for her to see them suffer. She’d been motivated by the experience to become a nurse. But it was one thing to take care of strangers and another to do it for your beloved grand- and great-grandparents.

“Oh, I could probably set you up in the room with my pythons.”

She growled, and I cracked up. “Dad, you promised, no snakes!”

“And I’ve kept my promise. You’re just too easy to mess with.”