Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“Because I heard him tell Father Roman that the only reason he wouldn’t marry his girlfriend was because of her queer kid. Well, that and the fact the kid’s a troublemaker.”
“Who?” I asked, knowing pretty much everyone in town.
Curt snorted. “Nico Salerno. That kid’s got problems, just like his sister. No wonder my dad can’t bring himself to pop the question.” He said that last part with a laugh but not before I heard a sharp intake of breath from the next row.
Suddenly a scrawny guy stood up from where he must have been crouched down in the seat in front of us. He whipped his face around to us, eyes flashing and dark, overgrown hair hanging in his face.
“Fuck you,” he spat before bolting out of the row of seats toward the exit.
“Shit, he’s going to tell the manager.” Curt stood to go after him. “Gonna beat his fucking ass if he tells anyone.”
I shoved him back into his seat, deciding I was done with this “date” anyway. “I’ll take care of it.”
I raced out of the theater and caught up with the kid before he reached the lobby. “Wait up,” I called.
His steps faltered, and he glanced over his shoulder at me. There was something familiar about him, and I realized with a sinking stomach that I recognized him. He was the kid Curt had just been talking about, the troublemaker. He was a couple of years younger than I was, but had a sister around my age.
“Nico, right?” I asked.
“No.”
That was the first lie Nico ever told me. But it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.
I stepped closer, holding my hands out in an effort to keep him from bolting. “Look,” I said. “I’m sorry you heard that.” And I meant it.
He studied me from under thick, dark lashes, lips tightened in anger and face flushed in embarrassment. He shoved his hands in his pants, and that’s when I noticed the bulge straining against his zipper. He’d heard us getting off. It had turned him on.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s the truth,” he said in a huff. “Everyone in town knows it. Makes no difference to hear him say it.”
I could see the hurt and anger coming off him in waves, and I hated I was one of the causes.
“The guy’s full of shit.”
“This whole town is full of shit,” he said defiantly.
I couldn’t help but smirk at him. Nico was kind of cute with those stormy eyes and pouty lips. I shook my head to clear it of the stupid lust haze. What the hell was my problem? It was thoughts like that that had landed me in that damned movie theater to begin with. Never trust the lust thoughts, West, I thought.
“What’re you going to do? Leave?”
I’d meant it as a joke, but his eyes darkened at the suggestion.
“Come to think of it, yes,” he said. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Six weeks later, Nico Salerno disappeared from Hobie, Texas, and his family never saw him again.
Chapter 1
Nico—current day
“Where’s the king?” I asked when my best friend Griff and his husband Sam showed up at my tattoo shop empty-handed. I’d been looking forward to their visit to San Francisco all week but was surprised to see them show up without the baby.
“Don’t worry, we dropped Benji off at Mom and Dad’s so you wouldn’t have to deal,” Griff said, leaning in for a hug.
“What do you mean, wouldn’t have to deal?” I said.
Sam rolled his eyes and started looking at some of the premade designs hanging on the walls. “Everyone knows babies aren’t your thing, Nico. Whenever you’re around him, you get weird.”
My eyes flashed to Griff. “I do not get weird.”
“You do. It’s okay. I get it,” he said with a laugh. “It’s too bad though, we could use a competent babysitter. Blue and Tristan have their hands full with their own crew, and Mom and Dad are going to be torn between Benji and Wolfe when we’re in town.”
What I should have said was that they were wrong, that I was fine babysitting, but we all knew that was a load of crap. As much as I hated to admit it, babies truly weren’t my thing. I’d never been interested in them. Maybe it’s because they were so damned vulnerable or breakable. Or they were loud and covered in puke all the time. I didn’t know, and it really didn’t matter. As a single, gay man, it wasn’t something that came up often in my life.
Until my best friend had moved to Napa and started a family.
“Well, it’s true I don’t make a good babysitter, but I can help in other ways,” I said, reaching behind the counter to where I’d stashed my notebook. “Here are a few sketches based on Sam’s concept for the tattoos.”