A Williamsville Inn Story
by
- Fake Date Flip-Flop
- Snowflakes and Song Lyrics
- The Cupid Crawl
- Star-Spangled Showdown
The first family wedding after a painful breakup. A milestone high school reunion. A hotel with a history of romantic meetings and happily ever afters.
While checking in at the Williamsville Inn, Nash and Tobias meet and feel an immediate spark of attraction. During an impromptu shared dinner, they commiserate about being single for their weekend events: the wedding of Nash’s niece, and Tobias’ thirtieth high school reunion.
When they hatch a plan to be each other’s fake date for the weekend, neither man realizes that while they’re pretending to be an item to satisfy nosey family and inquisitive friends, they just might end up falling in love for real.
This story is set at the Williamsville Inn and is part of the Williamsville Inn Series of gay romance stories.
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Publisher: Independently Published
Editors:
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 5
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 46-65
Protagonist 2 Age: 46-65
Tropes: Fake Relationship, InstaLove / Love at First Sight, Meet Cute, Pretend Boyfriend / Girlfriend
Word Count: 28500
Setting: Williamsville, NY
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Same Universe / Various Characters
Who had a wedding on a Sunday in January?
"Cheaper," Nash muttered to himself as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He went through his suitcase, assessing and discarding shirts.
Maybe the blue chambray that brought out his eyes? “What the hell am I doing? It's not a fucking date."
Shaking his head at himself, he chose the navy cashmere V-neck pullover he'd brought for the rehearsal dinner and tugged it over his head. Any other shirt he'd brought could work for the dinner.
But it doesn't matter because it's not a fucking date.
“You’re treating it like one, though.”
He pulled on the pair of casual winter walking boots, grateful he’d packed them considering how much snow he'd have to deal with all weekend. And which, according to Tobias, was just the beginning. Why did people live in this region?
READ MOREWhen there was a knock at the door, Nash checked his watch. Thirty minutes right on the dot. That was a good sign.
Not that it means anything because you're not going on a date. It's dinner with a guy you just met.
And how is that not a date?
Nash grabbed his coat and pulled the door open, stopping and staring as Tobias stared right back.
Tobias wore a flannel shirt over a black T-shirt, both tucked into a pair of jeans that had to have been altered to accentuate his amazing ass. Nash couldn't seem to pull his eyes up from Tobias's ass, until he realized Tobias stood turned slightly sideways to show off his profile.
Cheeky bastard, showing off that delicious ass he probably spends three days a week working on at the gym.
"Wow." Tobias caught himself and tried to act more casual as he leaned in and said, "Is that cashmere?" He attempted to look like he was studying Nash's sweater but seemed instead to be ogling his pecs and the chest hair sticking up through the neckline.
"It is. Is that pure flannel?"
Tobias grinned and set off down the hall. Nash noted he really did have a fantastic ass. “One hundred percent, baby. I graduated in the 90's. It's all about the grunge."
Nash followed and pulled on his coat as he asked, "Is it really grunge flannel if you tuck it into your jeans?"
The grin widened into a bright smile, and Tobias nodded as he pressed the call button. "All right. You've got some sass and snark underneath that Gruff Daddy exterior. I like it."
"Gruff Daddy?"
Tobias gave him a look. "Oh, please. Don't even try to pretend like you've never heard that before."
Nash sighed. "Fine. I've heard it before."
"How often?"
"A lot."
"I'm sure you have." Tobias look him up and down, taking his time, and Nash’s stomach did a little somersault. It had been a long time since anyone had checked him out like that.
The elevator arrived, and Tobias stepped inside. Nash followed, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into.
COLLAPSE