Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You? You’re the perfect boyfriend.” He shook his head before abruptly stopping his chuckling. “I mean, assuming not everything was an act…”
His little hint of uncertainty was my fucking kryptonite. Lord, help me. He could have all my confessions if it stopped him from doubting himself.
“It wasn’t. Not by a long shot. I can’t seem to fake it around you.”
“Good.” He exhaled hard, not even trying to pretend he wasn’t relieved. He was a fucking delight. I loved how little guesswork he required. My muscles were warm and loose now, shoulders lifting, chest fifty times lighter now that we were on the same page.
“So. I’m gonna stop for gas next exit. Call Dale.” I figured he was the twin more likely to pick up the damn phone instead of telling me to text. “See if he and Sue want some ribs. And I’ll tell him I’m bringing someone.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Ambrose glowed, like light up the whole damn highway with high beams smiling. I might not have a clue what the hell I was doing here, but I’d at least done one thing decent. Now to keep my winning streak going.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ambrose
Funny how I had spent all weekend playing “meet the family” and “happy couple,” and now one sleepy Sunday dinner with a couple of mechanics had my insides grinding together. All my gears were out of alignment as we pulled into a barbecue joint in a squat building with log-cabin styling and a parking lot filled with pickups and older cars. The place was located in a town close to the one where Harley had actually grown up. This section of Northern California was full of scrubby, hardy plants amid a tawny and amber landscape, dry air greeting us the second we exited my car.
Maybe I was freaked because this felt real in a way nothing else had. No more fake-boyfriend shenanigans. Instead, I was the person Harley was seeing, an apparently accurate description. Seeing present tense might mean dating back in LA, although what that entailed was still rather murky. Guess we’d start with steaks and that truck obstacle course, and we’d figure out the rest. Like I’d eventually figure out what was happening with my show and career.
But right then was not for worrying about show drama. It was for making a good impression on Harley’s family. I’d never been more acutely aware of how unlikely I was to pass as straight. Even in casual clothes for the drive, I was the guy whose dog had a matching blue linen shirt, and I doubted I would be able to keep my adoration for Harley low-key. Especially with him displaying such resolute courage in deciding to tell his family he was pansexual.
He wasn’t coming out for me. He’d made that clear, yet his self-awareness made this all the sweeter. He wanted to live his life authentically, and I was lucky to be even a small part of that life.
We hadn’t taken two steps away from the car when Harley was mobbed by two tweens toting handheld gaming devices and with mouths full of braces.
“Uncle Harley!” The kids were followed by two hulking giants and their respective wives. I’d given Harley privacy when we’d stopped for gas, so I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect as far as reactions from his siblings. Introductions were made amid backslapping hugs for Harley and handshakes for me. Dale had the shorter hair and wider middle, while Denny had the graying ponytail and younger wife. Denny and Paula were the ones with the two kids in tow, while Dale and his blonde wife, Sue, were enjoying a night free of their teen brood.
“Okay, let’s see this car.” Dale rubbed his hands together, apparently done with the small talk. Whatever awkwardness I’d been expecting was smoothed over by my having every car guy’s dream ride for them to check out.
“Damn. A seventy-eight. You know how to pick them.” Denny slapped Harley on the back. “Pop the hood.”
Apparently, Harley’s brothers had decided he was dating my car, not me, but as this was better than any uncomfortable interrogations, I was content to hang back. I’d let them poke around my car and joke with Harley while I held Hercules.
“You sure this will get you to the mountains?” Dale gave an exaggerated frown. “That cabin is at a serious elevation. I’d be worried. I’ve got a bronco back at the shop you could borrow.”
“Or that sweet little jeep we got in last week,” Denny added. They were both clearly teasing, so I waited to see how Harley would handle the situation.
“No chance.”
“You could let us keep your baby for the week, then meet up back in—”
“Nothing doing. It’ll be fine, and you know it.” Harley shook his head. Ordinarily, he was a big dude, but here he was the little brother in all senses of the word, shorter and younger than these mammoth jokesters, who were both closer to fifty, but with banter worthy of nineteen-year-olds.