Sense of Place Read online

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Totally Bound Publication

  Sense of Place

  ISBN # 978-1-78184-954-5

  ©Copyright N.R. Walker 2014

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright January 2014

  Edited by Eleanor Boyall and Sarah Smeaton

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 2.

  This story contains 110 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 6 pages.

  Thomas Elkin

  SENSE OF PLACE

  N.R. Walker

  Book three in the Thomas Elkin Series

  Designing homes is easy. Finding home is something else entirely.

  Thomas Elkin and Cooper Jones finally have the support of their families, and their love grows stronger every day. Now living together, they think nothing can stand in their way.

  But there are outside influences trying to pull them apart.

  Cooper encounters a man, closer to his age and with connections high up the property development chain, who wants Cooper as his own. Tom encounters discrimination and a hidden agenda from a fellow senior partner who’s trying to take him down.

  No matter what the world throws at them, Tom and Cooper are the real deal. Age differences aside, Tom has finally found his sense of place. His one true centre, his home.

  Dedication

  For my husband…

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Architect: Hanley Wood, LLC.

  Coke: The Coca-Cola Company

  Google: Google Inc.

  Lego: The Lego Group

  New York Times: The New York Times Company

  Prada: Prada

  Windows: Microsoft Corporation

  Chapter One

  Definition: Sense of place—a quality of design where the building and/or space achieves a sensory, emotional and spiritual connection to the site in which it is placed.

  Source: Architecturewiki

  I did up the last of the buttons on my shirt, and my doctor sat down in his chair behind his desk. “Well, Tom,” he said. “Your blood pressure is fine, and,” he said, looking down at the piece of paper in the file, “all test results came back clear. Cholesterol is good, blood glucose is fine, STDs all clear, PSA is good.”

  I nodded and sat down across from him. “And everything else looks okay?”

  He double-checked the papers in front of him. “I have to say, you’re the healthiest I’ve ever seen you. What’s your secret?”

  “Um…”

  The doctor smiled. “Who is he?”

  I let out an embarrassed laugh. “He’s, um…he’s a lot younger than me.”

  My doctor smiled and nodded, knowingly. “Well, whatever he’s doing is working. I know you’re concerned about your health, with the passing of your father, and that’s completely understandable. But, Tom,” he said, “I’d say you’re a picture of health. Diet and exercise looks good on you.”

  “I need to work out, just to keep up with him,” I admitted.

  The doctor laughed at that. Then his smile faded. “Do you practise safe sex with your partner?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “How long have you been together?”

  “About six months.”

  “Are you exclusive?”

  “Yes. We live together.” Then I added, “Well, that’s kind of new. He moved in with me two weeks ago.”

  My doctor tilted his head. “Will you be looking to have unprotected sex with him?”

  I hadn’t even considered the idea. “Um, no…” I started. “Well, maybe… I’m not sure. We’ve not discussed that.”

  “When was he last tested?”

  “Um…” Shit, I had to think about that. “He was tested just before he moved here. He’s only been with me since.”

  “Anyway,” he said casually. “If you do decide it’s something you want to explore, then I’ll be more than happy to run the necessary tests for him too.”

  I shook my head, a little daunted by the concept. “Okay.”

  “Don’t feel you have to have unprotected sex, Tom,” he went on to say. “A lot of gay couples don’t, a lot do. It’s something you need to discuss with your partner.”

  I left the doctor’s appointment probably more conflicted than when I’d arrived. It had been a late appointment and when I got home, Cooper was cooking dinner. Well, he was making a mess—dinner, not so much.

  “Oh, hey,” he said with a smile, looking up from the stove. “Working late?”

  “No,” I said, putting my satchel on the table. “Doctor’s appointment.”

  Cooper looked up at me, alarmed. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Everything’s fine. Just got the test results from my full checkup.”

  Cooper still looked concerned. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I gave him a bit of a nod and a shrug. “It’s just with the way Dad died,” I said. “I think I need to keep an eye on my health.”

  Cooper frowned and his eyebrows furrowed. He stopped stirring a pan of sauce, and put the spoon down. “Tom, please don’t talk like that.”

  I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him. “Cooper, sweetheart, no one expected my dad to have a stroke. I’d be foolish not to take that on board.”

  “I just can’t think about you like that,” he said quietly. “I can’t even begin…”

  “Hey,” I said, kissing him again. “My doctor actually said I’m the fittest he’s seen me. I told him I can credit you for that.”

  He smiled then. “He said you were okay?”

  “A picture of health.”

  His eyes widened. “What tests did you have?”

  “The usual,” I answered. “Cholesterol, blood sugar, HIV, PSA…”

  “What’s PSA?”

  “Prostate test.”

  “Prostate?” Cooper asked, looking a little miffed. “I hope he boug
ht you dinner first.”

  I snorted out a laugh. “It’s a standard lab test these days.”

  “Oh,” he said, seemingly disappointed. “That’s a shame.”

  Smiling, I looked around at the kitchen counter. “What are we eating?”

  “It’s supposed to be poached chicken,” he said, turning back to the stove. “Well, it will be if I can get it cooked. And there’s a mango dressing to go on it, but I haven’t got to that yet.”

  “Where did you learn to cook this?”

  “I called my mom for the recipe,” he said with a grin.

  “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Yeah, you could cut up the mango, and add all the dressing stuff,” he said. “There’s a recipe here somewhere.”

  I smiled as I scoured through the mess on the counter until I found the piece of paper with a handwritten recipe. I cleared a space, cleaning up what I could, and set about doing my task.

  “Oh,” I said as nonchalantly as I could. “My doctor said he’ll add you to his list of patients if you wanted to go to him to have any tests done.”

  He looked thoughtful as he turned the chicken. “Mmm, I’m about due to be tested again.”

  I slid the diced mango into a mixing dish. “I know it’s not exactly pleasant dinner conversation, and the fact we have to have tests done at all is an awful reality, but it’s something we should talk about.”

  Cooper shrugged indifferently. “No, it’s not that,” he said. “I was just hoping to find a doctor who did prostate exams the old-fashioned way.”

  I laughed at him, and he smirked as he put the cooked chicken on a plate. I squeezed some lemon over the mango, and told him, “I can check your prostate for you later, if you’d like.”

  He slid in beside me and playfully bit my shoulder. “Do you want me to call you doctor?”

  I kissed his cheek. “No, Tom is fine.” I took a clean board and chopped red peppers. He threw in some type of canned bean, stirred it all together and spooned it over the chicken.

  It was pretty freakin’ good.

  “This was beautiful,” I told him. “How come you don’t cook more often?” I asked.

  “Did you like it?” he asked excitedly. “My mom makes it all the time.”

  “We eat a lot of takeout,” I mused out loud.

  “You can cook tomorrow night,” he told me. “I think we should have grilled Thai fish with a bean shoot salad.”

  I chuckled at him. “I think you overestimate my cooking ability.”

  Cooper stood up, took my plate and walked into the kitchen. “Just as well you’re good in bed.”

  Smiling, I cleared the table and followed him into the kitchen where I kissed the back of his neck. “I’ll clean up, you start the work you brought home.”

  When I had the kitchen back to spotless, I pulled out my laptop and a job file and set up my own work space across from Cooper.

  He was engrossed in his work. His head was down, looking from his laptop to the file in front of him and back again, and there was that concentration line between his eyebrows which meant he was trying to get his thoughts around something.

  I opened my job file and flipped open my laptop, but I just couldn’t get started. My mind was elsewhere.

  “You okay?” Cooper asked.

  I looked at him then, not even aware I’d zoned out. “Um, sure. Just not really in the mood for work tonight.”

  “Oh…” he said, then he looked at his own work. “I can pack this up if you’d prefer.”

  I laughed. “No, keep at it. You look engrossed in whatever it is you’re doing.”

  Cooper sighed. “Actually, I’m stuck on something. Can I pick your brain?”

  “Sure,” I said, brightening. “Of course you can.”

  “Well,” he started. “We’ve just signed with a developer who I met with at the Philly energy convention. He wants to incorporate the design concepts in a commercial refit. He has a list of requirements and I’m not sure they’ll work.”

  “How so?”

  Cooper launched into how the existing building structure was confined by New York building restrictions, and how the desired energy compliance wasn’t feasible without some external façade changes, and how he had to find a middle ground. “He really liked the glazing concept that I used on the Philly design, but I can’t use that if I keep with the façade guidelines for the Riverdale district.”

  “Can I have a look at it?” I asked.

  “Please do,” he said, and pushed his laptop out a little.

  I pulled my seat around to his and for the next hour and a half, we went over the plans, job specifications and New York City building codes. It was fascinating how his ideas differed from mine. His were new and exciting whereas mine were traditional and tested.

  “I can bring home some old job sheets from work,” I said. “I’ve done work in this district, so I can see what council certificates we needed. You might be able to find a loophole.”

  “Would you?” he asked. “That’d be great! I mean, I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  “It’s not privy information,” I told him. “Anyone could check city records, but this will just save time. Is the original structure pre- or post-1940?”

  “Pre.”

  “I’ll check our records with the Preservation Commission,” I offered. Then I smiled. “I’m sure you can figure out a way to make the new and old coexist.”

  “Yes, between us we have the whole retrofit thing covered, don’t we?” he said with a nod. “You know, me being modern, you being antique.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “At least I’m post-1940.”

  “Just as well,” he said with a laugh. “Because I didn’t get a permit from the Preservation Committee to date you.”

  “You’re such a little shit,” I said, grabbing his chin between my thumb and forefinger and planting a kiss on his lips. “I offer to help and you insult me.”

  Cooper grinned and stood up, only to straddle me in the seat. “You’re so sexy when you try to act all hurt.”

  “Sexy, huh?” I asked with a smile. “Now you’re just trying to sweet-talk me.”

  He leant down and kissed me, pulling my bottom lip between his. Then he whispered gruffly, “You have no idea how sexy you are.”

  I looked into his darkening eyes. “I could say the same about you.”

  He kissed me again, rocking his hips on mine. “You promised me a physical examination.”

  “Then I best make it thorough.”

  He grinned and I kissed him, then I stood us up and walked him backward towards the bedroom, never taking my mouth from his.

  He wanted me to check his prostate. So I did.

  Twice.

  * * * *

  I walked into my office on Monday morning, and smiled at my personal assistant. “Morning, Jennifer.”

  “Good morning, Mr Elkin,” she replied professionally. “I trust you and Mr Jones had a good weekend.”

  “Yes, we did,” I answered, flipping through my messages. We’d gone out on Friday night for a few drinks. Cooper had spent the weekend going over the old files I’d brought home for him while I did some work, but mostly I’d annoyed him. We’d worked out, we’d cooked lunch and dinner both days. “It was lovely, thank you. And how was yours?”

  “Very well, thank you,” she replied. “You’re early today. If you’d like, I can bring in fresh coffee.”

  “That’d be great,” I told her.

  Barely two minutes later, Jennifer carried in my coffee. But she frowned. “Were you expecting a meeting with Robert?”

  Robert Chandler was one of the other senior partners here. He’d mentored me, and even though I was on an equal footing as a senior partner, I’d always thought of him as a boss. He’d even gone with Jennifer to my father’s funeral just four weeks ago.

  “No, I wasn’t expecting a meeting, why?”

  “He’s asked to see you,” she said.

  “Oh, okay.”


  “Did something happen between you?” she asked, rather cryptically.

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  Jennifer wasn’t displaying her usual cool demeanour. She even seemed concerned. “Well, he asked to see you now. Told me to hold all calls, and asked that you see him first. He didn’t exactly seem happy about it.”

  Chapter Two

  Grace, Robert’s personal assistant, opened the double doors for me and announced my expected arrival.

  “Robert, you wanted to see me?” I asked, walking into his office. He was about sixty-five years old, with grey hair and jowls that reminded me of that cartoon dog.

  “Yes, Tom,” he said somewhat pleasantly. “How’s your mother?”

  “She’s okay,” I answered, unsure of where he was going. “She’s determined to stay at the house, though. I call her every night, just to check on her,” I said, though I got the feeling he didn’t really care. He was simply making polite conversation until he got to the subject he was after.

  “I saw that young intern of yours at the funeral…”

  And there it was.

  “His name is Cooper.”

  “Yes, that’s it,” he said, like he didn’t know. “Cooper Jones.” He stared at me for a long moment. “You seemed very…familiar.”

  I couldn’t believe it. I could not fucking believe it. “He’s my boyfriend, if that’s the information you’re fishing for,” I said, not caring if he didn’t like my tone. “Actually, we now live together.”

  Robert tilted his head. “Were you seeing him while he was your intern?”

  Fuck.

  “No,” I lied. “Strictly professional while he was here.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Robert said with a smug smile. “Because you know it’s a breach of company policy to date staff. Particularly impressionable interns.”

  I almost laughed at that. Cooper was anything but impressionable, but that was not Robert’s point. I’d broken company protocol, and we both knew it.