Chapter Two
Brogan
The Blue Star Diner felt frozen in time, but comfortable, constant, with the scent of fried food and old stories. People came in, left their worries at the door, and enjoyed meals that tasted like home.
Brogan slid into the back booth with a sigh. The blue vinyl squeaked beneath him. He stretched his legs and watched the fog roll down Main Street. The server took his order of the daily special of the fried chicken platter.
The bell above the door jingled. It announced Andrew’s arrival. Andrew owned the Blue Star and was married to Captain Rafael Duarte of the Foggy Basin Police. He walked over to Brogan’s booth, beaming.
“Brogan, I need to talk to you,” Andrew said, his voice low but warm.
Brogan leaned back and gestured for him to sit across from him. “Aye, go on then,” his Irish accent adding rhythm to his words.
Andrew settled in, the murmur of conversations creating a low hum around them, mixed with clinking glasses and laughter. “Did you find a renter for your room yet?”
“I met five prospects, but none worked out. The men talked trashy, smelled of alcohol, and one wanted me to lower the rent. Of the two women, one didn’t like dogs, and the other was allergic to cats. So, no. I guess I’ll never find a renter.”
“I thought for sure you’d find someone by now.”
Brogan sighed, rolling his shoulders as he glanced outside. “Aye, I thought so too. I thought pricing the rent a little lower than I wanted would make someone jump at it. No luck yet.”
Andrew leaned in, arms crossed tightly. “My cousin’s coming to town. He’ll work here at the diner while figuring out his next move. He’s looking for a place. Maybe you two could be a good fit.”
Brogan raised an eyebrow. “Your cousin, eh? What’s he like?”
“Archie is twenty-two and recently graduated from San Francisco University in English Literature. Believe it or not, he’s gay too. He’s on his way here now and will stay with us until he finds a place.”
“Ah, Rafael isn’t thrilled about Archie staying with you two?”
“No, he wants him out ASAP. We had a huge fight about it since I didn’t discuss it first. But he’s already on his way.”
Brogan drummed his fingers on the table, thinking it over. “Well then,” he said, tilting his head, “might work out for both of us. He needs a place. I need a tenant.”
Andrew grinned. “That’s what I was hoping.”
Brogan took a sip of his coffee, nodding slowly. “When will Archie be here?”
“Anytime. He’s riding his motorcycle from San Diego.”
Brogan set his mug down. “Why don’t you bring him to my place? Let’s have a proper chat.”
Andrew smiled, the tension easing from his shoulders. Then the bell jingled again. Brogan turned at the sound, and his wandering thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind.
A man carrying a dusty helmet stepped inside, glowing in the golden light. He was slender but moved with a quiet grace. His fair skin was freckled, and he stood with a vulnerability, as if braced for whatever came next.
His eyes were soft brown and deep, holding unmistakable sadness. His dark hair looked carefree, tousled, as if he’d run his fingers through it. He wore simple jeans and a black shirt, but somehow, even ordinary clothes fit him perfectly.
He approached their table, smiling warmly.
Andrew grinned and nodded toward the newcomer. “Speak of the devil. Brogan, meet Archie.”
Archie’s gaze flickered to Brogan, and he hesitated for a moment. “Nice to meet you.”
“And you too.” Brogan winked.
“I’m starving,” Archie said, his voice carrying exhaustion from the trip. He pulled a chair from a nearby table and brought it over.
“You got it. Steak, coming right up. Take my seat.” With a joyous laugh, Andrew jumped up, hugged his cousin, and nudged the chair back, the wood sighing softly.
Brogan studied Archie for a moment before smiling. “Rough trip?”
Archie exhaled, rubbing his jaw. “You could say that.”
Brogan nodded, sipping his coffee. “At least you made it here in one piece.”
Archie tilted his head, watching Brogan with curiosity. “So, Andrew says you’ve got a place for rent?”
Brogan smirked. “That I do. I can show it to you after dinner if you’re interested.”
Archie thought it over and nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that. My cousin got married last month, and I don’t think his husband will want me living with them.”
Andrew returned with a plate stacked with steak, setting it down in front of Archie. The way Archie dug in made Brogan think he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days.
Brogan leaned back, letting the moment settle. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad turn of events after all.
After eating, Brogan and Archie told Andrew they were going to check out the house.
“We didn’t even talk yet,” Andrew said.
“We will. I’ll message you when I’m on my way back.” Archie followed Brogan out to the parking area. Brogan waited for him to start his motorcycle, then drove out slowly.
In the rearview mirror, Brogan watched Archie’s motorcycle hum behind his van.
The guy looked at ease on the bike, as if he belonged to the road.
Brogan admired that. He preferred something more grounded, something with four wheels.
But Archie? He looked like he could ride for days and never feel lost.
As they moved through town, Brogan’s thoughts circled back to they would be reaching his place soon.
And then what? He needed someone to take that spare room, and Archie seemed decent.
Maybe even a fit. Brogan didn’t recruit roommates lightly, but the house felt empty lately.
He wouldn’t say that out loud, though. He hoped Archie saw him land the plane smoothly on the solid runway, a sigh of relief escaping his lips.
The turn onto his street came faster than expected. He pulled into the driveway, cutting the engine. Archie rolled to a stop beside him, smoothly kicking out the stand. He removed his helmet, ran a hand through his hair, and shot Brogan a lazy grin.
“Nice place,” Archie said, eyeing the setup.
Brogan nodded and led the way up the steps. Inside, it wasn’t fancy, but it was his—warm lighting, new furniture, and the faint sound of paws on hardwood. His black-and-white cat sauntered out from the hallway, staring at Archie like he was judging him. Outside, his dog barked, eager for attention.
Archie lit up at the sight of the animals. “You didn’t mention these guys.”
Brogan shrugged. “Didn’t think I needed to. They speak for themselves.”
“And what’s this little princess’s name?”
“Molly. She’s friendly.”
“Can I pick her up?”
“Sure.”
Archie picked up Molly, and she purred as he stroked her. He carried her around as they moved through the house.
The tour was simple. Brogan showed Archie the available spacious room with its own bathroom. A good setup for someone who wanted privacy. The fenced backyard had a pool, perfect for relaxing weekends or unwinding after long days.
An Irish Setter bounded up to them and barked. “This is Pasha. He’s a puppy and loves to play. He stays outside during the day and comes in at night or when he rubs against the door.”
“That’s a nice red dog.” Archie petted Pasha, still holding Molly.
“Just so you know, Molly is an inside cat.”
Archie followed Brogan into the kitchen.
“Do you have any questions?” Brogan asked.
“Why did you move here from Ireland?”
“I was born and raised in Dublin. My parents sent me to the UK for my education, then when I graduated from university, they sent me around the world for a year. One of my stops was California. Spending time here changed my life. Once I set foot in Foggy Basin, I loved it and wanted to stay here. Ireland couldn’t offer me what I was looking for. ”
Leaning against the doorway, Archie looked around. “Honestly, this is better than I expected. How much are you asking for a month?”
“How about five hundred? You can use any room except for mine. That needs a personal invite.” Brogan felt his face warming.
Archie nodded. “Do you give many personal invites?”
“None so far.”
“Interesting. What’s the rule about sleepovers?”
“Sleepovers?” Brogan scrunched up his nose.
“You know, to mess around in my room?”
“That would be a no.”
“Got it. Not like I have anyone to bring home.”
“You can cook in the kitchen and use the pool. The washer and dryer are off the kitchen.”
“I don’t have any friends, so don’t worry about me bringing a bunch of guys to party. I’ll be working, then kicking back.”
“So, do you want to rent the room?” Brogan asked.
“Yes, I’d love to.”
Brogan, never one to dance around decisions, stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You might as well move in now.”
Archie blinked, then laughed. “You don’t waste time, do you?”
“Not really,” Brogan admitted. “Besides, you look like you belong here.”
And somehow, that felt true.