Chapter 10 #2
Gage looked up at the ceiling and muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “Baby Jesus, save me from efficient Sundays.” But he smiled at Aiden. “Why don’t you go along and save me some chicken, okay?”
“M’kay,” Aiden agreed. But he didn’t go. In fact, he sat himself down on a chair instead. “So, how was your trip to Boston?”
Gage and I exchanged a frustrated look.
“Not long enough,” Gage said with feeling.
“Way too short,” I agreed. “But I enjoyed what there was of it.”
“Yeah,” Gage agreed, his eyes dancing. “Same.”
He threw a load of laundry in the machine haphazardly, grabbed the Hannabury sweatshirt I’d lent him a few weeks ago, and declared himself ready.
All the way across the shadowy gravel parking area, Aiden kept up a nonstop stream of chatter about all the things he would see and do if he were in Boston, most importantly a Red Sox game.
“I’ll take you to a game next year if you want,” Gage said distractedly.
“But… will you still be here then?” Aiden’s forehead puckered.
“Well, Boston’s only a couple hours drive. You can come down and visit me. Maybe your Uncle Knox can bring you for a visit.” Gage knocked his arm into mine and grinned up at me.
I smiled back. He didn’t know it, but by then I’d be in the city, too, and Gage and I could…
Whoa.
Hold the phone.
One night of fucking, and I was all Gage and I?
There was no Gage and I. Certainly not by the time the Red Sox season started up again.
The way this worked was as a short-term thing. Trying to make it into something beyond that would be… dangerous. Feelings might get involved, and that wasn’t what this was.
“What’s wrong?” Gage asked too softly for Aiden to hear, and I noticed I’d begun rubbing my palm absently over my too-tight chest.
“Hmm? Oh. Nothing.” I dropped my hand and smiled, which wasn’t hard to do when I looked at Gage, even if I still couldn’t quite draw a deep breath. “I was just realizing that I really am hungry.”
Gage’s expression cleared. “I made you late for breakfast at the hotel, didn’t I?” he whispered. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
I shivered and let him walk ahead with Aiden, while I hung back and took a few deep breaths to compose myself before I went inside.
By the time I got in, Webb had already set platters of chicken and steak in the center of the wide wooden table along with the side dishes.
Gage sat in his seat talking with Hawk. Em and Aiden chattered back and forth about Halloween costumes.
Jack helped Uncle Drew into his seat and laughed at something he said while Marco got Sally Ann.
I stood by the door and watched them for a moment, as I often did, enjoying the chaos and beauty of them, but my gaze kept flicking to Gage as it did more and more often these days.
There was something torturous but kind of fun about keeping our closeness a secret from my family.
It felt like the two of us were tied together. Connected in a way.
“Knox!” Gage beckoned me over. “Come tell Hawk that I am not dressing up as Happy Smurf with him. There are some lines a man will not cross.”
I snorted and unfroze from my spot, ducking over to the sink to wash my hands. “The problem with Goodman being Happy Smurf is that people might not know he was in costume,” I called, and everyone including Goodman chuckled.
I headed for my seat near the top of the table, but Webb stopped me with an outstretched hand. “Knox, why don’t you sit at the far end of the table tonight. Swap seats with Marco.”
I raised one eyebrow. “What for?”
“For a new perspective,” he said with the same unspoken “obviously” in his tone that Aiden used. “A new seat will give you a new perspective on life.”
Ordinarily, I’d have told him exactly what I thought of him declaring himself Seating Czar and where on his anatomy he could shove his “new perspective,” but since Marco’s seat was next to Goodman, I just rolled my eyes, exchanged a shrug with Marco, and swapped seats without protest.
“Mind if I sit here, Goodman?” I asked as I took my new spot.
He inclined his head regally. “I’ll allow—”
“Gage, why don’t you come up here and take Knox’s seat, since we’re changing things up?” Webb called. “That way you can talk to Uncle Drew about Florida. Marco’s always wanted to go to Florida.”
He had?
“Oh.” Gage’s disappointment was so cute I had to fight to hide my smirk. “Yeah, okay—”
“No, but Dad! Gage and I need to talk about my science project,” Aiden protested.
“But your Uncle Jack needs a place to sit, son.”
Jack, who’d squeezed himself in between Drew and Em, shook his head. “I’m fine here.”
“You’re not,” Webb insisted.
“Then let Jack take Uncle Knox’s seat,” Em said like the born organizer she was. “And Marco can take Jack’s seat.”
“But Marco’s already sitting,” Webb countered, conveniently forgetting that everyone had already been seated before he started this foolishness, and that hadn’t seemed to stop him.
“Did you inhale too much smoke while grilling?” I demanded.
“Gage can sit next to Drew, then Webb, then Aiden, then Knox,” Em decided. “Then on this side of the table, Marco can sit by Drew, then me, then Hawk can slide down to the last seat, Jack can sit in Gage’s seat at the head of the table.” She nodded to herself. “It’s the most efficient way.”
“But—” Webb shot back his own argument, and their bickering continued.
Gage chuckled and spoke softly enough that only I could hear. “You efficient people terrify me.”
“All New Englanders enjoy efficiency,” I said easily. “Give it a couple more months and you’ll be assimilated.”
“No, I told you it’s Sundays who enjoy efficiency,” Gage corrected saucily. “And I’m not a Sunday.”
I folded my arms over my chest and raised my voice to be heard. “Webb, tell me again why we’re playing musical chairs? I feel like my perspective is good and fresh already.”
I knew precisely why, since all of his “most efficient” plans ended with me sitting next to Jack, but I wanted to hear him say it.
Webb flushed and nodded at Jack. “To make our guest feel more at home.”
“Uh-huh. And what about Goodman feeling at home?”
Webb frowned at me like I was crazy. “Gage is at home. He lives here.”
“He’s not a guest, he’s one of us,” Aiden agreed.
Em nodded, too. “Which is why he has to move seats,” she concluded sadly.
Goodman rolled his lips together, amused and pleased and annoyed all at once.
“Turns out you are a Sunday, Goodman,” I said softly as we stood up. “Don’t try to fight it.”
We all took our new assigned seats, which left Jack in Gage’s spot at the end of the table between me and Hawk.
Webb and I were going to have a serious talk—by which I meant another serious talk—about his matchmaking one of these days, since clearly the first talk hadn’t worked.
“Sorry about that.” Jack grimaced. “Webb just gets an idea in his head, and…”
“I know,” I said grimly. “And you don’t have to apologize for my brother. If anything, I should apologize to you.”
“Wait, what idea’s in Webb’s head?” Hawk asked as he passed Jack the platter of chicken.
“That Jack and I are going to fall madly in love because we’ve sat next to each other.” I rolled my eyes and took the platter from Jack. “Nothing says romance like communing over a plate of dead, charred poultry, right, honey bunch?”
Jack covered his laugh with a cough. “You know it, baby doll.”
“Wait, you two?” Hawk nearly fumbled a platter of steak, and his eyes ping-ponged from me to Jack again in shock and horror. “No way. That’s…”
“A figment of Webb’s imagination,” Jack finished calmly.
I nodded. “You’re a nice guy, Jack, but I’m not…” I broke off with a helpless shrug before I could finish with “interested in anyone but Goodman.”
Jack grinned. “I get it. It’d be weird anyway.
I mean…” He lowered his voice. “Webb might think he wants to see us together, but he’d freak if I ever dated one of his brothers.
He got so messed up with”—he mouthed the word Amanda—“that he’d need to be overly involved just to make sure no one got hurt.
He’d act as our straight-guy chaperone and follow us on dates to make sure I didn’t get handsy in public and ruin your reputation.
He wouldn’t hesitate to knock on my door with a box of condoms and a YouTube video on How to Do the Gay Sex so he could educate us, despite having zero practical experience. Right, Hawk?”
Hawk didn’t seem to find this funny, but I found it so hilariously accurate that I laughed out loud… and then choked on the bite of potato salad I’d taken, so Jack had to whack me on the back.
From down the bench, Webb beamed at us, confident his silly plan was coming to fruition.
“Hey, Knox, I’ve been meaning to ask… D’you remember that Eagle Scout badge you got for adding a wheelchair ramp over at the Theater in the Hollow?” Webb called.
“God, man,” Jack groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Stop.”
“Uhhh… It was twenty-something years ago,” I reminded him. “But I remember it vaguely.”
“You had to write up a bid for all the materials and then do the work, didn’t you?” Webb stroked his beard. “It was a lot of work.”
“Sure.” Where was he going with this? “I guess.”
Webb took a bite of potato. “Do you know, that thing was so sturdy, it’s still there to this very day?”
“That’s… good to know,” I agreed, peering down the table at Lumberjack Yenta curiously.
Em, Hawk, Jack, Marco, and Gage all stopped eating to stare at Webb, too. And while all of us except Jack looked at Webb like we suspected he’d lost his mind, Jack glared at him like he knew it for a fact.
“What?” Webb said defensively. “Knox is good at construction projects, that’s all I’m saying.”
I took a sip of water. “You know, I seem to recall that you were also an Eagle Scout. Didn’t you construct a—”