Unforgettable
Table of Contents
Books by J.P. Bowie
Title Page
Legal Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademark Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
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About the Author
Pride Publishing books by J.P. Bowie
Single Books
The Set Up
Ride ‘em Cowboy
Ride ‘em Again Cowboy
Personal Trainers
Halloween Angel
The Officer and the Gentleman
With a Little Help from My Friends
Blood Relations
Nowhere to Hide
Trip of a Lifetime
A Ghost Story
Happy Ending
A Highlander in LA
Journey to Hope
Paris Connection
All I’ll Ever Need
Every Breath I Take
Highland Hearts
Evan Sent
Fear and Loving in Las Vegas
Breaking the Habit
Fear of Flying
Love on the Rocks
Murder by Design
The Love Between Us
Hold Him Close
The Journeyer
The Journey Begins
The New World
The Fight for Freedom
Into the West
Hot in the Saddle
Vetting the Cowboy
Teaching the Cowboy
Loving the Cowboy
Naming the Cowboy
My Vampire and I
My Vampire and I
My Vampire Lover
Duet in Blood
Blood Resurrection
Bound in Blood
Blood Lure
Blood Lust
Blood Talisman
Blood Vigilance
Blood Kiss
Anthologies
Fabulous Brits: Under the Law
Naughty Nooners: Lunches in Laguna
Friction: Cruising
Saddle Up ‘N’ Ride: Ride ‘em Hard Cowboy
Promoted by the Billionaire: Fly to Him
Heatwave: Summer Bliss
Collections
Christmas Spirits: A Present Christmas
Homecoming: Blueprint for Love
Yule Be Mine: A Special Christmas
Immortal Love: Night Wing
A Little Bit Cupid: Valentine’s Day Blues
My Bloody Valentine: Dark Valentine
UNFORGETTABLE
J.P. BOWIE
Unforgettable
ISBN # 978-1-83943-197-5
©Copyright J.P. Bowie 2022
Cover Art by Kelly Martin ©Copyright May 2022
Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Pride 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, Pride Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride 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 2022 by Pride Publishing, United Kingdom.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.
Pride Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.
Reunited twenty years after their teenage split, Blake and Alex are determined that this second chance will have a happy ending…
When Blake Carson enters a photographic exhibition in Los Angeles, he’s astounded that the gifted photographer is Alexander Martin, with whom he’d been in love when they were both teenagers. Alex disappeared from Blake’s life without explanation, and his ultra-religious parents ran Blake off.
Reunited, the two men realize that the feelings they’d had for each other twenty years ago are still there, and the pair is determined to make up for the years stolen from them. They plan a future together, and even talk of adopting an abused child Blake had represented in court.
But the darkness of Alex’s past isn’t so easily shaken off. A phone call from his homophobic father brings back bitter memories of his parents’ cold-hearted abandonment of him to a conversion therapy center and threatens to revive the resultant PTSD he’s fought so long to overcome.
Can the love he and Blake share free Alex from the shadow of the trauma inflicted on him all those years ago?
Dedication
Thanks again to Claire Siemaszkiewicz and Rebecca Scott at Pride Publishing for their continued support. And to my editor Rebecca Baker for her keen insight into what makes my books better—thank you!
Thanks also to Phil for putting up with me for nigh on twenty-eight years! Love you!
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Alexa: Amazon Technologies, Inc.
Brooks Brothers: Authentic Brands Group; Simon Property Group
Facebook: Facebook, Inc
Hyatt: Hyatt Hotels and Resorts Corporation
Samuel Adams: The Boston Beer Company, Inc.
Stuck Like Glue: Jennifer Nettles; Kristian Bush; Kevin Griffin; Shy Carter
Uber: Uber Technologies, Inc.
Vanity Fair: Condé Nast
Chapter One
Blake had never been one for art shows and, unlike a lot of gay guys, not that much into musicals either. So why he was peering into the window of an art gallery in downtown LA showcasing the work of one Alexander Martin was a bit of a mystery. For a long moment he stood gazing at the display of a black-and-white photograph featuring a rocky seashore, boiling surf surging under a cliff wall.
Nice, he thought at first glance. A bit Ansel Adams. The major difference being when he stared at the photograph more closely, the subtle outline of a naked man reached out as if to touch the waves.
“Beautiful…”
His murmured comment must have caught the attention of a woman standing a few feet away from him. She smiled then gave him a flirty look. “Takes one to know one, I guess,” she said.
“Sorry?
”
“You know what I mean.” She opened the door to the gallery and held it for Blake, probably amused at his flaming cheeks while she gazed without any sign of embarrassment at him, again with the flirting. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how good-looking you are, sweetie.”
Blake stared at her, slightly amazed at how bold she was, and now that they were almost toe to toe, he could tell she might just be old enough to be his mother.
She patted his shoulder. “Alexander Martin’s exhibition is to the right, down the hall there,” she said. “It’s a private showing today, but go ahead. I’m sure he won’t mind. Enjoy.”
“Thanks,” Blake mumbled then added, “You seem to know your way around the place.”
She smiled. “I should. I come here every time they have a new exhibition.” She held out her hand. “Doreen Leslie.”
“Blake Carson.” He shook her hand. He was so bad at this kind of thing. Give him a courtroom floor and he was at home, but talking to strangers not so much. Socially inept, his last boyfriend had called him. “N-nice meeting you.”
“You too, honey. Now go enjoy Alexander Martin’s work.”
With that, she turned on her very high heels and walked quickly away. Still a little surprised by her overt friendliness, Blake watched until she disappeared through a frosted glass doorway with some gold lettering on it. He had to admit it was nice to stand in the gallery’s cooler air. It was September, and the usual California warmth had turned a trifle sticky mid-month.
Alexander Martin… He used to know a boy called Alexander Martin, except he’d known him as Alex. They’d been best buds—more than that really—but that had been many years ago and there was no way this could be any more than mere coincidence. Right? The Alex he’d known had never shown any interest in photography―at least not that he could remember― and this work lining the gallery walls was, even to Blake’s plebian eye, pretty spectacular.
He glanced down at the brochure in his hand. There was a picture of the artist, and although there was a resemblance to his boyhood friend, he might be wary of going, ‘Wow, reunited after all these years’. If in fact Alexander Martin was anywhere around in the gallery, and they just happened to bump into each other.
Of course, the man in the photo was an adult, a handsome adult without a doubt, but the boy in Blake’s memory had been a tow-headed skinny kid with a beaming smile. And now? Blake took a second, closer look at the picture, and there was that smile that stirred something inside him, something warm, a distant memory of a summer’s day when he and Alex had gone skinny-dipping together in Baker’s Pond.
But that had been in DC, or rather, in Bakerton, a small town outside the city with lots of trees and farms and a swimming hole. Just like they’d done so many times each summer, they’d laughed, cavorted and playfully wrestled in and out of the water—but the day that Alex had kissed Blake, everything had changed.
His lips were cold and wet, but when he pressed his mouth more firmly against Blake’s, a definite heat stirred, and not only where their lips were joined. Blake stepped away from him, flustered, looking down at Alex’s penis which was twice the size it had been a moment ago―and oh Jesus, so was his. Red- faced and breathing hard, Blake yelled, “Whatcha do that for?”
Alex looked away, his expression one of fear and something else―longing? “Sorry, Blako. I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Don’t tell anyone, will ya? My dad will skin me alive if he found out I like you like that.”
Blake stared at him for a long time, unable to voice the words that were spinning through his head. He likes me like that? He wasn’t even sure what that meant. Like what?
“Like you want to kiss me?” Blake asked him. “You’ve never done that before.”
“I-I know.” He looked at Blake again, shyly this time. “Was it awful?”
“No… Surprising is all.” Truth be told, now that Blake had recovered his senses, he had to admit it’d felt…nice.
Blake smiled at the memory of Alex’s cute face, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling when he’d smiled back at him that day. He stopped in front of one of the larger framed photographs, a magnificent, almost mystical, view of the Shenandoah Valley.
He knew that view. Long ago, on a road trip through Virginia with his parents, his dad had pulled over so they could get out and enjoy what he’d called God’s majesty. Blake had been eighteen and the trip had been a reward for his getting enough passing grades to enter the University of Virginia.
That had been fourteen years ago, and now, staring at and getting lost in Alexander Martin’s beautiful photographic landscape, a sudden prickling in the back of his neck made Blake shiver and want to turn around, sure that someone was standing behind him. That feeling was borne out when a smooth, deep voice, close to his ear, murmured, “So, what d’you think?”
“It’s beautiful…” He didn’t have to turn and look at the man by his side. He was pretty sure he already knew who it was. “Alex,” he added.
Alex gripped Blake’s arm. “Blako, I can’t believe it’s you. After all these years, and I’d know you anywhere, even the back of your head. Especially the back of your head. Still have all those dark curls. This is a very nice…no, more than nice…it’s a fantastic surprise.”
Blake grinned. “I was kinda highjacked, but I’m very glad it happened. This…this is all so incredible. You standing here in front of me—and this talent you have, that I knew nothing about. Why did I not know?”
Alex’s eyes clouded for a second or two. “It was one of the things that I hoped to share with you, but then…” His smile returned, and he squeezed Blake’s arm. “It’s so good to see you again. I can’t quite believe it.”
Blake covered Alex’s hand with his and grinned. “I know, I never dreamed when I walked in here that—and, oh wow—!”
Alex had pulled him into a hug that, although startling in its suddenness, felt so right, as if all the years had rolled away, and they were exactly where they should be—in each other’s arms.
Alex hadn’t changed that much, just added some years—twenty on Blake’s quick count—and some muscle. He still had that thick thatch of sandy-blond hair, the blue eyes Blake remembered so well, and when his gaze dropped to his friend’s mouth, he couldn’t help but admire its pouty fullness. A mouth made for kissing.
Alex had been a cute kid, and now as a grown man, in his prime, he was without a doubt, totally gorgeous. He wore a black polo-neck sweater and tight black jeans, all of it designed to enhance his lean, toned physique.
“So…” Blake cleared his throat and, although he didn’t want to, stepped back from their hug. He felt a tad dizzy. From the rush of emotion that had enveloped him or the distinct impression he’d been aroused by Alex’s hard body, he couldn’t tell, but he knew he had to get control before his face got any hotter. He hoped Alex had simply chalked it up to the excitement of their unexpected meeting.
“A-are you free for a coffee or something, or are you going to be busy with your, no doubt, adoring clients?” From the corner of his eye, Blake had taken in a group of men and women, brochures in hand, who were no doubt waiting for Alexander Martin.
He nodded. “If you can wait about a half hour or so, or better still, join us. I’m giving a quick tour and answering some questions for future PR opportunities.”
It took Blake a moment to realize his hand was still in Alex’s firm hold. No wonder he was breathless. The warmth of his touch was most definitely starting a heat in other parts of Blake’s anatomy. Oh yeah, right there in his groin. Jeez, Carson, get a fucking grip. Or maybe it was the grip that was causing his borderline loss of control.
“Uh, i-if I won’t be in the way,” he just about managed to stammer.
“You won’t. And it’s so good to see you, Blako.”
“No one calls me that anymore,” Blake said without any snark. “I think you were the only one who ever did.”
“You mind? I can cut it out if you want me too.”
“No, it’s okay. Kinda nice hearing it again.”
Alex grinned and squeezed Blake’s hand before releasing it. “Can’t wait to know what you’ve been doing all these years.”
Blake watched him walk over to the group, admiring his athletic build and grace. After shaking hands with the men and women, he engaged them in some small talk that had them all smiling then he turned and beckoned Blake over.
“This is an old friend of mine,” he said, putting an arm around Blake’s shoulder. “Blake Carson. We went to junior high together back in the day. He’s going to join us on our tour.”
The group gave Blake smiles and nods of acknowledgment, then Alex led them into the main gallery where the bulk of his work was on display. Blake was impressed with the sheer number of framed photographs lining the walls, artfully presented with a single spotlight illuminating each one.
He was also impressed with Alex’s charismatic presence while he answered the questions from the group and gave details of where and how some of the photographs had been taken, the type of cameras he used, how he got the lighting just right… Charming and gorgeous. What a combination, and oh, why did it take us this long to reconnect?
Scanning the gallery walls, he could tell most of the work was landscapes but there were a few portraits and Blake wandered over to take a look. The one that caught his eye was of a place he’d never forget—the swimming hole he and Alex had enjoyed so many times, where they’d spent almost all their summer days together, and where Alex had kissed him.
He blinked as he stared at the image of a young boy standing with his back to the camera gazing out over the water to the tall trees beyond. He was naked, his perky ass evidence to that fact, and Blake gasped when he recognized himself. The mop of dark, curly hair he’d sported as a kid, unmistakable.
How on earth did Alex manage to secrete a camera on that day without me ever noticing? And manage to take that picture without me knowing what he was doing? All those years ago, and Blake could recall it as if it were only yesterday. Murmurs of appreciation from the group behind him made his face heat up again. Shit, the second time I’ve blushed in a half hour!