Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Yeah.” Tucker couldn’t argue with that. And that whisper of maybe he’d had during the meeting was back. Maybe if Luis saw that times had changed some in the area, that other same-sex couples were living and thriving here, maybe then he might look more forward if he had—or wanted—to come back.
“So how about it? Think you can come?” Stretching, Garrick leaned back in his wheelchair.
“Let me make sure the boys don’t need me that evening, and I’ll see. And...uh...yeah, ask Luis. Good idea.” He glanced back at the now-empty conference room.
“Tucker?” Garrick tilted his head and lowered his voice.
“Yeah?”
“You do know that it wouldn’t bug me if you were...social with anyone, right?” Holding Tucker’s gaze, Garrick kept his expression neutral, but sincere as he echoed back Tucker’s own word for dancing around Garrick’s relationship with Rain last year. They were friends, more so now that they worked together daily, and he knew he could trust him.
“I know. And I appreciate that.” This wasn’t like coming out to his family—Garrick would be supportive, and it was entirely possible he or Rain had already guessed something. Tucker was still somewhat reluctant to be openly dating a coworker, but if it meant Luis being more comfortable around here, he would at least consider taking that step for him. “If my kids don’t need me, I’ll try to come. Let me know what I can bring.”
“It’s the SATs. They’re going to want to come home and collapse. And then because they’re seventeen, they’re going to recover enough to go out with their friends that night.” Garrick laughed, but his eyes remained serious, trying to reassure Tucker about his earlier comments, making Tucker even more grateful for his friendship.
“True. And thanks again. I owe you.”
“I’m the one who owes you. All those rides last year. You’ve saved my ass more than once too. You ever need...anything, my door’s open.”
“Appreciated.” He was saved from more conversation by a stream of coworkers exiting another conference room further down the hall. But no one, not even Garrick, was going to be able to save him from his own churning thoughts, from the glimmer of hope competing with the growing sense of doom, the little voice that kept telling him to try. If last night had shown him anything, it was that what they had was worth fighting for.
* * *
“You want us to go where?” Luis turned to face Tucker, stomach pleasantly full of the grilled cheese Tucker had plied him with. They were nominally reclined on his couch to watch TV, but neither were in a hurry to find a show. Instead, Luis had been enjoying the rub of their shoulders and legs and some lazy conversation while they watched Blaze explore. Feeling bad for leaving the cat so much, not that she particularly seemed to care, he’d packed her and some supplies up for the drive to Tucker’s. She’d been her usual good traveler and aloof self upon arrival, and watching her stalk around Tucker’s living room was fun. But then Tucker had dropped this invite. “A party?”
“You don’t have to sound so shocked that I might have a social life.” Tucker stared right back, expression as unflappable as Blaze’s, tone mild. “Garrick’s a great guy. You should remember him from school. Didn’t exactly run with your and Heidi’s theater friends, but he’s a real one.”
“Yeah, I remember him a little, and he’s fine to work with. Not complaining about him, just surprised.”
“Well, how about making it a pleasant kind of surprised?” Tucker suggested, bumping shoulders with him. “And his guy, Rain, is nice. Helpful. Garrick pretty much thinks he manufactures the sunrise every morning, and I have a feeling this get-together is both to keep Rain from missing his Portland contacts and because Garrick seems to think you might be bored. He’s worried you have nothing to do with your evenings.”
“Not a thing. Poor me.” Giving Tucker a meaningful look, he ran a bare foot up Tucker’s jeans-covered calf. “And that’s kind of my point. It’s one thing to keep professional at work, but in a social situation...it’s highly likely that someone will guess we’re more than coworkers.”
“Maybe let them.” Tucker gave a maddeningly casual shrug. “Garrick’s not a gossip, and I doubt any of his friends are either, but it’s not like we’re breaking any regs or that I’m your supervisor. So we’re...social. People can deal.”
“Tucker...” Luis struggled with how to respond. On the one hand, Tucker had come thousands of miles from the shy kid who didn’t want anyone knowing he held Luis’s hand in public. On the other, though, Luis felt oddly protective of him. “If you come out to work contacts, you can’t take that back. Even after I’m gone, you’ll still be out. I don’t want you regretting that.”
“It’s not like I’m deeply closeted. I’m not sixteen anymore, afraid my parents will disown me. The kids know and seem to like you.” Tucker squeezed his hand. “That matters more to me than who might guess at work. I mean I’m not suggesting we start kissing in the break room, but I’ll be fine. And I thought it might be fun for you, getting out of your hotel room.”