Because of a deathbed promise to his father, Elijah Peck reluctantly left his friends and successful career in Bridgeport to return to Willowby, Connecticut, the small town of his upbringing, in order to run the antique shop that had been in his family for generations. Now, in just the span of two years, Eli has morphed into a social recluse, isolated in what he believes is a stuffy, suffocating nowheresville. With no thriving gay community at his disposal, and with his entire existence wrapped around the store he never really wanted, Eli's devoted little time to his personal needs. As a result, instead of acting like a man in his mid-thirties, living out his own dreams, maybe even finding love with the right guy, he often feels like just another item in his shop -- a dusty, moldy antique that has seen better days.<br><br>But all that starts to change when a stranger moves to Willowby.<br><br>One night outside his shop, Eli has a chance encounter with Neville "Gray" Grayson, a wickedly handsome musician who's purposely left the bustle of New York City in favor of quiet country living. Eli is instantly drawn to Gray, and the flirtatious jazzman stirs dormant feelings inside Eli, reinvigorating his hopes for a brighter future. Not only does Gray make Eli feel attractive for the first time in years, but also makes him appreciate small-town life in a way he never has before. And Eli can't help but wonder if Gray's presence also offers the promise of finding much-needed companionship, sexual fulfillment, and perhaps even love ...

When the Jazzman Sings

“Gray, I’m so flattered I can barely speak.”


“As long as you aren’t disillusioned. So much for my bad-boy image, huh? I hope I haven’t come off sounding like a fool, like a blithering sap, so forgive me if I have. Shit, we haven’t even had a first official date yet, and here I am babbling like a hopeless romantic, a lovesick puppy. I pray I haven’t scared you off by saying all of this crap or—”


I caressed his face with both of my hands and gave him a kiss, a deep heartfelt smothering of his mouth, so I could hopefully convey to him my understanding, and my own feelings. “It’s not crap,” I said after pulling away from his lips. “It ishow I feel. It iswhat I’ve also wanted for my future.”


He smiled, obviously relieved at my statement. We sat in relaxed, companionable silence for several moments, until that mischievous twinkle I had come to adore filled his hazel eyes. “So now it’s yourturn.”


Chapter 28