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“I don’t…I can’t.” He shut his eyes and scrubbed both hands over his face. “I’m not sure what this means, but I have to leave so I can find out. I’m sorry to cut our evening short, and I’m sorry about the door. I’ll fix it tomorrow.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the damn door, Dom. This is bad. I can tell. You said you wanted more than a hookup, and that means communication!”
Dom’s lips tightened, and a flash of agony flashed over his expression.
“Dom?” Abe stepped toward him.
But Dom jumped into his car and shut the door. He mouthed, I’m sorry through the window before peeling out of Abe’s driveway.
Abe stared after him for a few moments, then looked back and forth down the dark street. He saw no movement and he didn’t feel eyes on him, so he was sure he was alone. He walked to the garage door and saw that someone had used actual paint to make the figures. This time, Dom couldn’t wipe them off.
Because it was obvious this was some kind of evidence, he walked inside to get his cell phone. This time, Abe would have pictures of the entire message.Chapter SevenThe familiar scents drifting through the air at the Norfolk Pub the next afternoon didn’t settle the uneasiness swirling through Abe’s chest. He had a standing lunch date with Shane and he usually looked forward to it, but today, he had too much on his mind.
Just a few days ago, he’d decided to tell his son about Dom, but now he found himself reconsidering. And it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Shane’s boyfriend had joined them. Quinn couldn’t have been a better fit for their little family, and it was obvious he was a permanent part of Shane’s life. Abe’s decision had more to do with the way Dom had acted the night before. His concern sat like a weight on his shoulders, and he had a feeling he shouldn’t talk about what was going on yet. Not the relationship or the stick figures that had been gone when he left his house that afternoon. Dom must have returned at dawn to paint over them.
Luckily, Abe had taken plenty of pictures.
The scent of toasted bread, pastrami, and roast beef filled the restaurant, and all the tables and blue booths were full. The place was known for its Binham Blue Cheese and specialty mustard. The owner had come from England and brought a taste of his home with him.
His son loved the food, too, so he’d scored a reservation early today.
Quinn’s face lit up when he spotted Abe and he waved him to their table, which was already set with the colorful clay pottery made in one of the seaside towns in Britain. Various images of sailboats and sea creatures peppered the walls, and a white sail was stretched near the ceiling over the bar. When he’d first come here, he’d expected seafood, which he loved, but he’d been so pleasantly surprised by the cured meats. And the special was always a delightful surprise.
A place was already set for him; Shane knew him well.
Abe walked over to the table, smiling at his son as he looked up at him. Happiness lit Shane’s brown eyes—mirrors of his own. In addition, Shane had inherited his curly hair. He’d gotten his slimmer build from his mother. He wasn’t as slim as his boyfriend, though, who was cute with his dark hair and black-framed glasses. Seeing these two with each other was the highlight of any day they got together because there was a magic there he’d hoped his son would find. Something real and lasting.
“Dad.” Shane stood and hugged him.
Abe held his son and smiled. He loved that they were so close now. Shane had been angry with him for years because of Patricia and the way he’d indulged her. Far as he was concerned, he deserved the anger. She’d walked all over him at times because she knew just how important family was to him. He’d wanted to keep her in Shane’s life, so he’d given in on so many things. Hadn’t mattered in the long run—she’d still walked out on them both.
“Hey, Abe.” Quinn smiled up at him, then pointed to the glass of iced tea. “I hope unsweetened is good, because I ordered when Shane was outside on the phone. He told me you always get the special, no matter what it is.”
“I do, and unsweetened is fine. It’s good to see you.”
“You too.”
Their food arrived as he settled into his chair—like the waiter had just been watching for his arrival. This being his third time for sandwiches this week, he’d have to cut the bread for the rest of it. He’d never get down to the weight he’d enjoyed in his younger years, but staying in shape was important. Especially now that he had a hot boyfriend.
