I glanced up to see a frown of concern on his face. He was worried about me after I’d spent the last week staying up way too late preparing a design proposal for a local restaurant franchise. Miss Susie Dupree’s Deluxe Barbeque, the official sponsor of the Lickin’, was contemplating a rebrand, and I’d been one of only a handful of interior designers asked to present. This had been kind of an honor in and of itself—enough to earn me fancy celebratory cupcakes, which had become our official Richards family tradition for celebrating good news of any kind, and a celebratory blow job, which was our unofficial Ryder-and-Colin way of celebrating more personal victories.
But, although I hadn’t flat out told Ryder yet, I wouldn’t be taking the job even if my design was chosen.
While the contract would be a coup for a relatively new company like Richards Interior Design, Miss Susie had proved to be demanding as all heck, insisting on endless last-minute changes while her bad-tempered poodle growled at me, patting her shellacked blonde hair while telling me my work wasn’t “original” enough, nickel-and-diming every line item of the proposed budget. Her late-night phone calls and emails had been enough to make my Granny Joyce sniff, “Susie’s been above her raisin’ since she married a Dupree, but if she thinks she can order my boy around, she needs to be set down a peg or two,” and to make my husband grumble, “Makes a man hope karma’s a real thing.”
For me, it had been an important reminder of a lesson I’d learned on New Year’s Eve five years ago: while I would always want to do my best and please my clients, true happiness wasn’t about career success, it was about the people I got to come home to every night—the ones who inspired and encouraged me, the ones who gave me a strong foundation and a sense of purpose, the ones who loved me and let me love them—a tattooed, power tool–wielding badass, and the cotton candy–wielding pixie who had us both wrapped around her sticky fingers.
“I’m okay, honey. I really wanted to bring Sadie to the Lickin’. We talked about starting our family traditions, and you know how Granny feels about the town festivals.”
Ryder leaned in and pressed his lips to my temple. I closed my eyes for a moment and let myself bask in his casual affection. Over the years, he’d treated me like a precious treasure, like I was the absolute best thing to ever happen to him. At every turn, he’d shown me just how important I was to him.
I was the luckiest man on earth and had been even before we’d even brought Sadie into our little family.
“Okay, but when we put Sadie-bear down for a nap, you’re going down too,” he warned.
As if that was a threat.
I laughed and wiggled my eyebrows. “Promise?”
He kissed me again and bounced Sadie on his hip.
Brooks Johnson wandered over to shake our hands, and I gave him a subtle up-and-down. I remembered Brooks well from high school, but then again I was pretty sure everyone in the Thicket knew him or knew of him. After all, it wasn’t every day that the guy known for being the high school quarterback, the mayor’s son, and the all-around town golden boy came out as gay in a very scandalous, very accidentally public way, breaking his girlfriend’s heart over a hot mic at the Lickin’ Dinner Dance before hightailing it out of town the next day and staying gone for ten full years.
Rumor had it, Ava’s heart had been broken and they hadn’t exchanged a single word since that night. In fact, if Emmaline Proud was to be believed, they’d put an entire continent between them just to avoid seeing each other. It was pretty clear from our brief meeting that Ava hadn’t forgiven Brooks… and I wasn’t sure the rest of the Thicket had either.
That meant Brooks Johnson was the Thicket pariah, whether he realized it or not.
Despite all eyes following poor Brooks, he gave us his trusty, perfect smile. “Ryder, my brother, Dunn, tells me you’ve built up a big-deal contracting business in town.”
Ryder nodded and slid his arm around my waist again after shaking his hand. “Between that and these two, I stay busy. Do you remember my husband, Colin? I think you two went to school together. And this is our daughter, Sadie.”
Brooks winked at Sadie, who grinned before ducking her head into Ryder’s shoulder, and his smile turned genuine and warm. “Oh my God. Of course I remember you, Colin. Congratulations. How did I not know either of you two were gay?”
I huffed out a laugh. “I wasn’t out then. Being Black and gay in small-town Tennessee wasn’t exactly the easiest.” Before I could continue, Brooks’s face dropped and Ryder’s arm squeezed my waist.
“Of course. I’m sorry. Shit.”
I reached out and clasped Brooks’s arm. “No. It’s okay. Actually, seeing you come out helped a lot, even if the circumstances were… suboptimal.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Brooks agreed, wincing.
“Knowing you were gay made it way easier to tell my grandparents, and they were amazing. My dad, not so much. Which was fine. He’s career army and doesn’t live here. But most of the town just… rolled with it.”
Brooks looked thoughtful. “I remember your grandmother. Miss Joyce. She sold flowers, right? How is she?”
Ryder pointed behind us. “She actually has a booth back that way. She brought tons of zinnias and sunflowers in pots. I think I saw your mom over that way earlier.”
Brooks gave a rueful smile. “This doesn’t surprise me. My mom’s attained her final form, in which she can literally be everywhere in the Thicket at once. Hey, Ryder, wasn’t your sister Rachel going to Pratt? Did she ever move back south?”
As we caught Brooks up on everyone, people stopped by to join our conversation. The late-summer sun bore down on us, but with the dappled shade from nearby hardwood trees, it was bearable. Music combined with the voices of chatter and laughter all around us. The smells of cinnamon roasted nuts and hot buttered popcorn warred with nearby booths selling scented candles.
After a while, a skinny pale guy taking a puff on an inhaler wandered up to give Brooks a friendly shoulder smack. “Hey, have you seen Ava? She was having a bit of a wardrobe situation earlier.” He made a curving motion in front of his own chest in the universal sign for boobs. “I thought I’d check on her, but I’m not sure where she is.”
“Not a clue. I saw Mal at his booth earlier, though.” Brooks’s lips curved up in a small smile. “He was charming the pants off—” Brooks broke off and cleared his throat, looking awkward suddenly. “Ahem. My bad. Paul, darling, this is Ryder and Colin Richards. Guys, this is my, uh…” He looked at Paul and swallowed before looking back at us without meeting our eyes. “My little Paul?”
I almost snorted. Was he asking me, or telling me? Ryder’s hand squeezed my waist in a meaningful death grip of calling bullshit.
“Your little Paul,” I repeated carefully.
Brooks firmed his jaw. “Yes. It’s, uh… new,” he said.
“But our love is both passionate and real,” Paul said solemnly, and Ryder’s body shook beside me with silent laughter.
So passionate and real that his “darling” greeted Brooks with a slap to the shoulder, then inquired after Brooks’s ex-girlfriend’s boobs? Something was seriously wrong in the Thicket if gay men were suddenly straight and straight men were gay.