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)
“Hmm. I’m sure the resort does a nice breakfast, but what do you say we go into town and explore a little?” Harley’s enthusiasm for this plan had me grinning.
“I like how you think. I’d suggest grabbing Lex to spare them the hair and makeup session, but a morning person they are not.” After pulling on some clothes, I checked my phone, grateful for the lack of messages from Cressida. I’d help if she needed it, but I was also good with a respite from wedding drama. “I’ll send Lex a fast text so they can join us in town if they wake up prior to noon.”
“Sounds good.” Harley already had Hercules in his travel bag, and his eagerness to explore the quaint little beach town propelled us into the main part of town. We found parking near the police station and wandered the various small shops, deciding against donuts and laughing at funny T-shirts in the window of a souvenir shop. Across the main road, a hot forty-something bearded wood-carver was doing a chainsaw carving demonstration, and we watched until hunger got the better of us. We snagged a table on the patio, which looked like a recent addition to the Rainbow Tavern. According to my review app, the place welcomed everyone but had a decidedly LGBTQ+ friendly vibe.
Living in LA my entire life, I’d been to plenty of places where the queer couples and mixed friend groups outnumbered others, but Harley kept glancing at the tables around us. Two moms sliced up pancakes for twin toddlers, while a pair of young men were very obviously and awkwardly on a first date, complete with lots of blushes. Another nearby couple featured one of the many muscled lumbersexuals around this town who made me want to invest in flannel. He was paired with an elegant person with impeccable makeup and a tight T-shirt with an angel logo. In the center of the patio, a big table was full of a raucous crowd of friends who seemed to represent every possible color of the rainbow.
“Wow.” Harley’s voice was as awestruck as I’d heard it outside of the bedroom.
“What?” I leaned forward.
“I haven’t ever…” He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Sorry. I sound like I’m gawking. It’s just…”
“You’re fine.” I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “I remember the first time my college friends and I got up the courage to go to the West Hollywood bar scene. I’d been around various same-sex couples my whole life, but seeing so many in one place was almost overwhelming. Felt both like I was more out than I’d ever been, but also like…” I trailed off as I also struggled for words.
“Like you could finally exhale?” Harley suggested.
“Yes.” I smiled because he had it exactly right. “That. It was a homecoming of sorts, I guess.”
I moved so the server could set our entrées down. Harley waited until after he tasted his sweet potato chipotle hash to resume the conversation.
“I’m forty. I shouldn’t be surprised at myself anymore.” He shook his head. “But I am. Surprised at how…right this feels. Comfortable.”
“Good. I’m glad.” I paused from sampling my smoked salmon omelet to touch the back of his hand. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He tilted his head.
“For sharing this with me.” I didn’t know how else to express everything I was feeling, but this felt like a big moment for Harley, for his pansexual journey, and I felt honored to be a part of it.
“Huh.” He chuckled self-consciously. “Ditto. It wouldn’t feel this right without you.”
“Oh.” My cheeks heated, and I busied myself examining my side of mixed fruit. “That’s a hell of a compliment.”
“This whole thing feels way more—”
“Uncle Ambrose!” With the world’s worst timing, Lex loped across the patio to plop down on the chair next to the one holding Hercules’s bag. Lex wore giant yellow sunglasses right out of some eighties music video, a black tee and skinny jeans, and a flowy garment that looked suspiciously like a polka-dotted bathrobe. “Tell me there’s still time for me to order.”
“There’s time,” I said mildly. But time seemed to have expired for Harley to finish his thought. Real? Important? Special? All of those? Being here with him felt like the first bite of a perfectly warm and gooey cinnamon roll, and now I wanted the whole thing all for myself.
Chapter Twenty
Harley
“You gonna make it, boss?” I asked Ambrose as he paced the length of the conference room the resort had provided as staging grounds for before the wedding. We were counting down to the start of the ceremony, and the large room was a flurry of bridal attendants and last-minute prep. Double glass doors faced the clearing where we’d had the rehearsal the night before. The outdoor area had been transformed by rows of white chairs, gleaming in the late-afternoon sunshine, accented with rustic linens and purple bows. A linen runner held in place with rows of decorative rocks created an aisle between the chairs, leading to a flower-draped arch and little gazebo.