My Confused Cub (Lovable Grumps Book 2) Read online

  My Confused Cub

  Lovable Grumps: Book 2

  Jayda Marx

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for your interest in my book! This title is the second in the “Lovable Grumps” series and is better enjoyed after “My Grumpy Old Bear”. My stories are low angst, insta-love, and filled with teeth tingling sweetness and steamy scenes. They follow relationships on the fast track. I want my readers to finish my books with a smile on their face and a fierce case of the warm and fuzzies. Laughter is guaranteed, and each read delivers its own type of drama. Thanks again for taking a look and happy reading!

  Chapter One

  Jay

  I hung up my work phone and rubbed my temples. I'd just spent the past twenty minutes explaining to a woman why it'd be illegal for her to write off the new inground pool she just installed as a business expense, even though she could "see it from her home office, so technically it should count as a business renovation". The ways people try to get out of paying taxes never ceased to amaze me.

  It was irritating to say the least, especially when those people became irate when I didn't tell them what they wanted to hear, but it was just part of the job. The parts I enjoyed of my work far outweighed the bad. I’d been with the Lewis & Taylor firm for just under four years, and I loved my job as a Certified Public Accountant.

  I was a math nerd all through school; it came naturally to me. Even now as an adult, I found it soothing to methodically work through a complex equation, and got a little thrill when everything balanced out the way it should. And yes, I realize I’m probably in the minority on that. As a bonus, working on number problems which had a distinctive answer was a hell of a lot easier than working on personal problems.

  If all that wasn’t enough reason to love my job, there was also the perk that I got to spend more time dealing with paperwork than people. I’m not what you’d call a ‘people person’. It’s not that I hate people, but I do hate drama. Paperwork didn’t give me drama, which I appreciated. My personal life had enough of that shit, so being able to escape it for a while and get paid for it wasn’t a bad deal.

  I shook away my frustration and turned back to the file on my desk. I’d been given the task of analyzing the financial data of a new restaurant downtown to check its viability and what they could do to improve their bottom line. That was my favorite part of my job; I loved helping small businesses get ahead in a world where big corporations ruled.

  “Jonathan?” a voice called from right beside my cubicle, startling me. I looked up into the handsome face of my boss, Mr. Taylor. And yes, I said handsome. Mr. Taylor was unknowingly the cause of quite a bit of the drama in my life (not counting the whole ‘I have three dads and one is younger than me’ revelation that came about recently). The man was gorgeous, and for the first time in my twenty seven years, had me questioning my sexuality.

  I’ll be honest; I’ve always seen a man on a cover of a magazine or on television and thought ‘Oh, he’s good looking’, but I never thought much of it. But then I laid eyes on the silver fox that was Mr. Taylor. I stammered all over myself during my job interview with him, but miraculously still received an offer.

  My instant attraction to him grew and I’d been in lust with him for nearly the past four years. When he began starring in most of my self-love fantasies in the shower, that raised a realization of “Hmm, I don’t think I’m as straight as I thought I was”. The fact that I’d never had a successful relationship with a woman and hadn’t even fantasized about a female for four years confirmed that thought.

  I’d not come out to anyone yet because for one, I was confused as hell. Was it too soon to tell someone, ‘Hey, I think I’m gay’ when I didn’t have any experience beyond fantasies to back it up? I had no idea if Mr. Taylor was gay or not; that wasn’t exactly the type of thing a person should ask their boss. That’d get me a trip to Human Resources faster than I could say, “Hey Mr. Taylor, I like your ass”. Which I do.

  Beyond my undeniable attraction to Mr. Taylor, I found I was drawn to a particular type of man; older and grayer than me, which also confused me. Didn’t I have enough drama with older men in my life? Was it a weird extension of my daddy issues? I often thought of my best friend Noah and how he’d found love with an older man, who just happened to be one of the dads in my life. Their love didn’t seem odd to me; it was honest and real and I was jealous as hell.

  Noah was more than my best friend; he was really my only friend. I tended to keep to myself because it was easier that way; less people meant less drama. I enjoyed my own company and appreciated peace and quiet. But Noah approached me a few months back at the mall (where I was enjoying my lunch break alone, as usual) and dropped a bombshell on me about Brooks, my estranged father and Noah’s then-boyfriend.

  But, everything worked out in the end, and Noah was so genuine and nice, it was impossible not to like him. Plus, he had quite a bit of experience dealing with difficult personalities because of my dad, who was arguably the biggest asshole I knew. I was less of an asshole and more of a sarcasm-prone loner, but surely difficult to get along with nonetheless. But for whatever reason, Noah enjoyed our company.

  But the fact that I had one friend in the world made my coming out process more complicated. I knew Noah would understand if I talked to him, but I also knew he didn’t like keeping secrets from Brooks, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for everyone to know. I wasn’t even sure what I’d tell him. “I think about my boss while I touch myself” wasn’t exactly something I was ready to share with the family.

  Plus, I didn’t have anyone else to talk to; I wasn’t as close as I used to be to my mother and Lee, the man who I believed was my biological father for most of my life, just to learn he wasn’t. I still loved my mom of course, but the lies she told me and the secrets she held from everyone put a strain on our relationship. Also, she and Lee were putting a lot of time and effort into their own relationship, so I stayed out of the way. They lived in a different state so it was easy to do. I decided I was an adult and needed to just try and sort through everything myself, which was not shockingly working out pretty shitty.

  “Yes, Mr. Taylor?” I asked after realizing I zoned out for a moment while having an identity crisis in my head.

  “I need to see you in my office, please.”

  “Of course.” This was how the majority of my fantasies about my sexy boss started; he’d ask me into his office and then bend me over his desk to fuck me while still wearing his suit. Don’t think about that shit right now, Jay; dress pants don’t hide anything!

  I followed Mr. Taylor into his office, trying desperately not to stare at his ass for the same reason. He held the door open and motioned me inside before closing it behind us. Beyond my fantasies, I’d not been in his office very often. Most of the staff worked in cubicles in a large open room. I didn’t love being that close to people, but I’d perfected the art of ignoring them. We were usually only pulled into the boss’s space to receive our quarterly evaluations. It wasn’t time for mine yet, so I was confused as to why he was bringing me in.

  “Have a seat,” Mr. Taylor requested as he rounded his desk to sit in the wingback chair behind it. I sat across from him and folded my hands in my lap. “How long have you been with this company, Jonathan?” It gave me a little thrill when he called me by my first name instead of his usual ‘Mr. Fuller’.

  “Nearly four years,” I answered. I wasn’t surprised he didn’t know off the top of his head; he and his business partner Mr. Lewis had many employees under them, so specifics would be difficult to remember. God, I’d love to be under him. Stop it, Jay! I shifted in my seat and waited for Mr. Taylor to continue.
r />   “And you’ve been an excellent employee.” I beamed with pride at his words, but he wasn’t finished. “You meet your deadlines, and your work is accurate and precise.” I opened my mouth to thank him, but he spoke first by saying, “Which is why this is so difficult.”

  My mouth went dry, but I managed to squeak out, “Sir?”

  Mr. Taylor rested his elbows on his desk and rubbed his hands over his face. “As I’m sure you’re aware, the economy has taken a turn over the past couple of years. We’ve lost a number of clients because they’ve cut our services as a way to decrease their expenditures.” He looked at me with guilt and pity in his warm brown eyes, and I knew where this was going. “The end of last month also marked the end of our fiscal year.”

  I nodded and he continued, “Mr. Lewis and I went over the numbers and found that our bottom line was nowhere near the projected figures. I don’t need to tell you how important it is for us to have a healthy profit; we’re in the business of helping companies beef up their own profits, so how would it look for us to struggle financially?”

  He let out a long breath and gave me a sad smile. “After much debate, Mr. Lewis and I came to the difficult decision that we have to let five employees go. To make it as fair as possible, we decided to go with the people who have the least seniority. I’m sorry to tell you that you were number five.”

  “Oh,” I replied in a whisper. I didn’t know what else to say; I’d spent most of the morning reflecting on how much I enjoyed my job, and it’d just been pulled out from under me.

  “I wanted you to hear the news directly from me,” Mr. Taylor offered, “So that I could tell you how sorry I am. I really wish there was another way. My poor wife has heard me bellyaching over this for weeks and-”

  “You’re married?” I blurted out, and Mr. Taylor blinked.

  “Yes, my wife and I have been together for twenty seven years.” As long as I’ve been alive. The irony hit me as hard as the pain. “I’m usually so wrapped up in work matters that I guess I don’t speak about my personal life much.”

  If he had, he could have saved me the guilt of three and a half years of whacking it to the fantasy of a straight, married man. Wait a minute. “You don’t wear a ring.” My ass was just fired, but all I could focus on was Mr. Taylor’s marital status.

  “I’ve got arthritis in my fingers,” Mr. Taylor explained with a shrug. “I assume it’s from years of bookkeeping by hand. At any rate, a wedding band isn’t comfortable, so I forgo it.”

  My mind reeled. In a five minute conversation, Mr. Taylor had ripped so much away from me. I couldn’t decide if I was more upset about my job or the loss of a man I never had. Nothing made sense anymore and a new, stronger wave of confusion overtook me.

  “You’ll receive a severance package which includes four weeks pay, and a month of continued health insurance and benefits. Plus, I’ve written you a letter of recommendation.” He pulled an envelope from a drawer and slid it across his desk. “I hope it helps you find employment with another company, though I hate to lose you. You are a great accountant and I wish you all the best.”

  Part of me wanted to scream at him and ask if I was such a great employee, why the fuck was he firing me and not one of the lazy asses who had been here for a decade and gotten so comfortable they felt they no longer had to do anything. Part of me wanted to beg him to reconsider. Part of me wanted to cry over how stupid I felt for lusting after a straight man for so long. No part of me was strong enough to win out, so I just grabbed the envelope and muttered, “Thank you.”

  I shuffled out of his office in a daze. I stopped at my cubicle to collect my things, but only felt worse when I realized I didn’t have any personal items there. There were no photographs or momentos on my desk. There was, however, a pen I particularly enjoyed using. Technically it belonged to the company, but I didn’t feel guilty when I pocketed it.

  I was suddenly in my car even though I couldn’t remember walking to the parking lot. I put the reference letter in my glove box before resting my head on the steering wheel. What the fuck do I do now?

  My attention was caught by my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and read a message from Brooks.

  Old man: Hey Jay. Do you want to come over for dinner tonight at six?

  4:32 PM: It depends. It’s not Bagel Bites, is it?

  The man had an unnatural obsession with the frozen meal. It took several minutes for his reply; my father was a slow texter. I doubted he’d ever sent a message in his life before he got with Noah.

  Old man: Sunshine is laughing his ass off over my shoulder but I don’t see what’s funny. But no, it’s not Bagel Bites. Your loss. Noah has the night off from The Rhinestone Cowboy and is cooking meatloaf and potatoes. It smells good in here.

  Damn, Brooks; maybe it wouldn’t take so long to send a message if you didn’t write a fucking book.

  4:37PM: Sounds good. I’ll be there at 6.

  Old man: Oh, he made cake too.

  Old man: Okay.

  Old man: Bye.

  I snorted at his terrible texting skills and slipped my phone back into my pocket. The messages distracted me from my sorrows for a few minutes, and I liked the idea of not spending the evening alone with my thoughts. If anyone could cheer me up, it was Noah. I wasn’t sure if my dad was up to that task, but if nothing else, I was sure he’d share his outrage over the ordeal and that could prove to be entertaining. I smiled as I started up the engine, thankful I had people to turn to.

  Chapter Two

  Jay

  I knocked on Brooks and Noah’s door at just past five thirty. I was early even though I’d gone home to change into my most comfortable pair of jeans and a t-shirt (it’s hard to wallow in self-pity while wearing a suit) and picked up a case of beer from the store. Beer was essential for wallowing.

  “Hey, Jay!” Noah greeted when he pulled the door open. He gave me a swift hug before ushering me inside.

  “Sorry I’m a little early,” I offered, but he waved me off.

  “Don’t be silly; you know you’re always welcome here. Take a load off.” He nodded his head to the couch and just as I sat down yelled out, “Honeybear, our son’s here!”

  It started off as an inside joke between Noah and me that he called me his son or stepson. We tried irritating Brooks with it, and though he was shocked at first, the big grump ended up loving the sound of it. And technically, Noah was going to be my stepdad in just a few weeks. So, the term just stuck. Noah always referred to me as his own and somehow I no longer found it weird; no weirder than anything else in my life, that is.

  “Hey Jay,” Brooks greeted as he lumbered into the living room from the hallway. He patted my shoulder as he walked behind me and took a seat next to me on the sofa.

  “You changed pants,” Noah announced as his fiance sat down.

  “Yeah, those other jeans were too tight. They pinched the hell out of my gut. Not to mention my balls.” And yet he mentioned them.

  Noah gave him a flirty smirk. “You could have just asked me to kiss them for you.” Brooks gave him a naughty smile of his own.

  “Jesus, guys; there are certain things a man does not need to hear from his dads,” I insisted.

  “Sorry,” Noah offered through a chuckle.

  “I’m not,” Brooks shrugged. I wasn’t surprised. “So, what are we celebrating?” As he asked, he nudged the case of beer on the floor by me with his foot.

  “Well, actually-” my words were cut off when Noah’s cell phone rang in his pocket. He retrieved it and squinted his eyes at the number.

  “I have no idea who this is.” He gave me an unsure look. “Do you mind if I answer it?” Noah was a sweetheart and didn’t want to be rude.

  “Of course not.” He nodded and shuffled down the hallway as he answered it. Brooks didn’t even try to hide the fact he was watching his fiance’s ass, and didn’t turn back to face me until Noah disappeared into their room.

  “So, the celebration?”


  “Ah. Well, it’s not so much a celebration as it is drowning my sorrows.” He furrowed his brows and I explained what happened in Mr. Taylor’s office, minus the sexual fantasies.

  “That motherfucker!” Brooks roared, clenching his fist. “Who cares if you have less seniority? You’re fucking good at your job! Who the fuck does he think he is, firing my son? I’ll march my fat ass right into his office and ask him myself, though it’ll be hard for him to answer when I shove his head up his ass.”

  This is why I wanted to tell Brooks. First of all, he made swearing an art form, and I loved to hear him get riled up; especially when it was on my behalf. But also, I regretted not letting any of my anger out at work. It was so unlike me to take something lying down (which is ironic, considering that’s exactly what I would’ve done for Mr. Taylor up until three hours ago). I didn’t say anything to my boss, though; I just left with my tail between my legs. Although this wasn’t the same as pleading my case at work, Brooks’ outpouring of anger made me feel a little better.

  Brooks took a deep breath and seemed to calm down as he looked at me. “I’m sorry, Jay. I know you really liked that job. If there’s anything I can help with; your mortgage or groceries or anything else, you just say the word and I’m there. You know I’ve got some money tucked away and I’m happy to help you in any way you need.”

  After we connected, Brooks told me about the small fortune he had in the bank from his injury on the job. It meant the world to me that he was willing to help me without question. We all made some mistakes in the past, but Brooks showed me every day that he was in my life to stay, and that he was a damn good dad.

  “I appreciate that, but I’ll get a severance package and I hope I’ll be able to find another job soon.”

  “But if you do need me-”

  “I’ll call you,” I promised, and he gave me a lopsided smile. “Thanks, Dad.” He draped his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder. Brooks usually didn’t show much affection (except with Noah), but I appreciated the gesture of support.