The wedding is off, but the love story is just beginning.
Betrayed the night before his wedding by the supposed boy of his dreams, Ethan Robinson escapes the devastating fallout by going on his honeymoon alone to the other side of the world. Hard of hearing and still struggling with the repercussions of being late-deafened, traveling by himself leaves him feeling painfully isolated with his raw, broken heart.
Clay Kelly never expected to be starting life over in his forties. He got hitched young, but now his wife has divorced him and remarried, his kids are grown, and he"s left his rural Outback town. In a new career driving a tour bus on Australia"s East Coast, Clay reckons he’s happy enough. He enjoys his cricket, a few beers, and a quiet life. If he’s a bit lonely, it’s not the end of the world.
Clay befriends Ethan, hoping he can cheer up the sad-eyed young man, and a crush on an unattainable straight guy is exactly the safe distraction Ethan needs. Yet as the days pass and their connection grows, long-repressed desires surface in Clay, and they are shocked to discover romance sparking. Clay is the sexy, rugged man of Ethan"s dreams, and as the clock counts down on their time together, neither wants this honeymoon to end.
Honeymoon for One is a gay romance by Keira Andrews featuring a May-December age difference, a slow burn of newfound friends to lovers, first-time m/m sex, and of course a happy ending.Books by Author:Keira Andrews Books
As the young woman took a step onto the almost-empty A train and asked Ethan what was probably a simple question, his heart skipped, stomach instantly knotting. He answered, "I"m sorry, what""
Her eyebrows drew close, and she repeated herself, but she was turning her head as she spoke, looking up above the subway car doors"probably for a map of stops, which was in vain on the A train"and the words were lost in a mumble of indistinguishable sound.
She still had one foot on the platform, unwilling to commit. She held out her hands in frustration, thin eyebrows raised. Again, she said, "Mumble," but this time he also heard "Fulton."
"Yes, it stops at Fulton!" he said.
As the doors closed, she skipped aboard, just as a guy approached from farther down the car, saying something Ethan missed in the roar of metal as the train picked up speed.
The woman gave Ethan a quizzical smile, shaking her head, like, Why did you have to make that so difficult" Then she said something to the other man, nodding and smiling at him before taking a seat, the guy retreating back to the end of the car.
Face hot, Ethan slouched on the orange plastic. At least she hadn"t gotten too mad. Metal screeched and crashed again, and he winced, the noise amplified by his hearing aids. Hearing someone talk could sometimes be impossible, but trains rattling and banging, jackhammering and construction, engines roaring, busking mariachi bands droning"all that Ethan could hear at a painfully loud volume on his daily commute.
When he got off at Times Square to transfer to the Q train, the station somehow always full of people even midday in January, he hurried past a group of young men dancing, their music throbbing in his ears.
When an accordion player got on the train, along with a group of teenagers shouting and jostling each other, Ethan couldn"t take it anymore. Seriously, what fresh hell was this" Since when did people give money to hear the freaking accordion"
He just wanted to fantasize about his wedding and honeymoon in peace. And maybe play a little pseudo Scrabble on his phone to calm his nerves.
Why should I be nervous anyway" It"s all going to be perfect. Michael and I are finally on the same page again. Even though"
No. He wasn"t going to let the doubts creep in. Everything was going to be perfect.
His left hearing aid was bugging his ear anyway, so as the bastard accordion player neared, Ethan turned both his aids off and eased them out of his ears and into the little case he carried, which he zipped into the pocket of his puffy winter coat.
Ahhh. The volume of the world was turned way down when he went "off the air," as his boss put it. Ethan wasn"t what the docs called "profoundly deaf" without his hearing aids, but sounds were muffled"especially speaking and noises of a higher frequency. His current diagnosis was still in the moderate hearing loss range, but leaning toward severe rather than mild.
Being out in the world without his hearing aids on made his stomach acidy, but New York City was just So. Fucking. Loud. At least with his aids out the music and shouting kids faded into a hum of distant white noise, and he was grateful.
The flash of gratitude was of course immediately followed by a long gnaw of guilt since the more he turned off his aids, the less stimulation his hearing nerves received, which could affect his ability to recognize the nuances of speech.
He could still hear that someone was speaking without his aids, but it was only a vowel-filled murmur, the clarity of the words frustratingly out of reach. His devices helped a lot, but most people talked way too fast and he regularly had to ask people to repeat themselves. Day after day, it was exhausting.
That was part of why he hadn"t wanted to plan a big wedding. The thought of trying to hear and talk to all those caterers, reception hall folks, and guests would take all the joy out of the day.
In college, doctors had assured him there was nothing he could have done differently, and that a genetic anomaly was to blame for him losing his hearing. They insisted the one time his ears had rung after a Jay-Z concert hadn"t been the culprit. Still, Ethan wondered sometimes, and he obviously wanted to do everything he could to keep the quality of the hearing he still had.
But he"d spent all morning struggling to follow along during a video conference call, and it would just be a wall of noise on the train anyway. Shouldn"t the kids have been in school"
He snorted to himself at the thought. Michael sometimes said"with varying degrees of affection depending on his mood"that Ethan had become a grumpy old man when he lost his hearing. Maybe he had. Most twenty-seven-year-olds seemed to still like partying and goofing around, but he was glad to ignore the kids and the accordion"s wailing as the train rattled across the Manhattan Bridge. He played the word "kumquat" for twenty-five points in his game, vaulting him into the lead against his best friend, Todd.