Chapter 7 #3
“First, she was never my wife. We were more…high school friends experimenting. She went to college, of course, and by the time she graduated college and got a job and had a way to support a kid part-time, she lived in Albuquerque. The schools are better here. For a long time they spent summers together because I was working so much, but then Hil turned fifteen and got her junior PRCA card, and she was gone.”
It hadn’t helped that Valerie had gotten married to Tanya, and they’d had babies one after another after another. Hopefully they could all be closer now. It wasn’t probable, but it was possible.
“I resembled the not-thinking remark as a teenager myself, though I was so immersed in hockey and the draft that I was pushing for and all I had less time to be a jerk.” Evan winked. “Plus I didn’t have to worry about getting anyone pregnant.”
“So you didn’t date at all?” He had dated a lot.
“I mostly fooled around in dark, paneled basements with the TV on.” Evan winked. “And didn’t get caught.”
Sam pondered that for a moment, and then his eyes widened. He glanced around. “So, who did you fool around with?”
“No one who could get pregnant.”
“I—” Sam blinked. “Are you telling me that you are la familia?”
Because that was going to fuck with his world, all the way.
Evan blinked, looking innocent even as his lips curved a sexy as hell smile. “Are you asking if I’m in the mob?” At Sam’s glare, he snorted. “Hell, yes, that’s what I’m saying. I swing for the home team all the way.”
“Well, my baby mama is married to a woman named Tanya, and she’s…the only woman in my life.” He winked over, tickled as a pig in shit.
Evan studied him, then grinned widely. “Well, that makes staying at yours less intimidating.”
“Ditto.” Sam slapped his hand on the table and laughed as the weird tension between them melted. “So, be honest. Lots of queer folks in your sport on the down-low?”
“A decent share, yeah. Not that most of them will ever come out.” Evan gave him a one-shoulder shrug. “I was out to my team, since we were a close bunch. And my family and guys like Bobby.”
“Well, good on you. My boss, he’s got a husband. There’s a lot of bi cowboys in that six-pack sort of way.”
“‘Six-pack sort of way’?” Evan asked.
“You know the joke—what’s the difference between a gay cowboy and a straight cowboy?” He paused. “About a six-pack.”
Evan hooted, his grin really, truly making it to his eyes. “That’s amazing. I’ll have to use it. We have nervous sheep up in Massachusetts…”
“Nah, our sheep are demons here. That wouldn’t work.”
“No shit?”
Sam tugged out his phone. “Let me show you a churro sheep.”
He found one of the four-horned sheep, and okay, that was hilarious.
“Those aren’t real.”
“So real.” This was fun.
“You’re full of it. Oh my god. They have slit eyes.”
“All goats have those.”
“Get outta here. No shit?”
Sam chuckled. “I shit you not, guapo. It’s the horns on our sheep that make them crazy.”
Evan shook his head. “I mean, I was a kid in Wyoming. You would think I would know goats from sheep, but my dad was Air Force.”
“You were a townie, no? That’s a different kind of world than ranch folks.” Not better, not worse—just different.
“I was, yeah. I’ve been on a horse. I’ve been chased by a cow. But I lived in town, and then it was billeting with hockey families.”
“Is that scary?” He couldn’t imagine sending Hillary to strangers.
“It can be. Depends on the town and the coaches and the team and all. Most of the families are super nice, but a few were really strict.” Evan shook his head. “I was pretty young on my first go around too.”
“Man, that’s scary. I moved from my mama’s house to the house I’m in now. Never lived anywhere else.” He’d been a bunch of places, though, so he knew he was lucky.
“That’s wild to me. My folks were both military brats. No homesteads for us.” Evan chuckled and grabbed his silverware roll when the food came. “And I was traded twice, so I never bothered to buy a house or a condo until after I retired.”
“Now? Do you live near Max’s family?” He didn’t really understand where Max was, but he needed to learn, and fast.
“Yeah. They live a little farther out than I do. I’m in the Back Bay in Boston, which is kind of a historic neighborhood. Bobby’s more of a modern McMansion kind, but he has a ton of kids to house.”
“Ah. Well, you’ve seen my place. Just a nice old adobe.” He loved it, and it was a good, solid home. “The guest room is comfortable as hell. I’ve slept in there when Hillary’s mama’s house had a water pipe break.”
“Ah. Well, I really appreciate it.” Evan gave him a slow appraisal that made his face and neck feel hot. “So much more friendly than the Motel 6.”
“Sí, and the food is going to be way better, I promise.” Although this food was pretty damn amazing, if he was honest.
“Hey, I loved everything I had at the cookout.” Evan leaned across the table, holding his gaze. “Seriously. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Relaxing is good, hmm? Hillary will be better, once Max heads home.”
“I have no doubt. So will Max. His mom will have his balls.” They set to eating, and he felt like he had a whole new idea of Evan the man sitting in front of him, now they’d both relaxed.
Or maybe because he knew that looking at Evan wasn’t going to cause offense.
Whatever it was, he didn’t hate it.