“We could call you June, instead.”
“No! Mom!”
“Guys, stop with the name teasing,” Melissa said. “We have a guest.”
Iggy caught Sofia mouthing the word “June” at Tommy, and he hid his smile behind his coffee mug. He envied these siblings their obvious bond and camaraderie, squabbles and all. Not all families had that, blood or not. Iggy had been in enough foster homes in his early life to know he preferred being an only child.
Solitude was safer.
Safer as a helpless child. Not so much as a very lonely adult.
Well…he glanced at Malcolm.
Not so lonely right now.
“Tell me more about Abigail?”
Malcolm had waited to blurt out the question until Iggy pulled the wagon into a spot at Walmart to do a little bit of shopping for groceries, cleaning supplies, and a few medical things for Howie’s homecoming. It had been in the back of Malcolm’s mind for over an hour, all through post-brunch cleanup, and more time with the kids before other errands called.
They hadn’t spoken much on the drive over to the Walmart, both a little tired from their early morning shenanigans, plus the carb-heavy brunch. “What do you want to know?” Iggy asked.
“I don’t know.” Malcolm waited until they were both out of the wagon and walking toward the entrance to continue. “Is she older or younger than Darren?”
“Younger by three years. She adored her big brother, and she was a little jealous of me when Darren and I first started dating.”
“You’ve got a high opinion of yourself.”
Iggy chuckled. “She admitted it to me once, when things with me and Darren got pretty serious. Abigail’s great people. Loyal, funny, sharp as a blade. She’s the kind of person who makes you listen, even if she’s talking about the least interesting topic in the world.”
“So, she could make even me sound interesting.”
“Probably.”
Malcolm grinned at the gentle teasing and grabbed a shopping cart. Iggy had his phone out, probably armed with a list in his notes, and Malcolm wouldn’t be surprised if the list was done in aisle order to avoid doubling back, especially on a busy Sunday afternoon. They headed toward the pharmacy/home goods side first.
“What does Abigail do?” Malcolm asked. She had to be pretty amazing for Iggy to rate her as his best friend.
“She’s a photographer.” Iggy studied the shelf of first aid supplies. “She started doing weddings, but she’s been branching out into portraits and stills, trying different things until she finds her niche. She’s done some celebrity shoots, too. Darren once told her it’s a good thing she creates with images, because she can’t cook worth a damn.”
Coming from someone whose life goal was to be a food influencer/chef/person, Darren had probably intended for that to be a compliment. “Was cooking a big deal in their family?”
“Both of their parents were in the restaurant industry. Darren said they were happy he had inherited some cookingtalent, but Abigail is the type who can burn water. So that was even more pressure on him to be successful.”
Malcolm studied the guarded expression on Iggy’s face, annoyed at himself for steering them toward such a depressing topic. Now that he knew what happened to Darren, he was curious about the man Iggy had obviously loved very much—and the sister he still kept in contact with. “Sorry, I’m being insensitive.”
“You aren’t, you’re asking questions. It’s easier to talk about these things now. With you.” He flashed Malcolm a warm smile then turned to the next aisle. Malcolm wasn’t sure what they needed here until Iggy’s eyes lit up at the display.
Oh, hell yes.
Condoms and personal lubricant. And only three other small items were in the cart. Not enough to hide this stuff, but Iggy didn’t seem to care when he made his choices and chucked them into the basket. A small part of Malcolm that still existed near the closet door wished he had a jacket to throw over the condoms and lube.
The rest of him didn’t give two shits who saw, or what they assumed about the two men shopping together.
He met Iggy’s eyes across the cart. Iggy winked. They were doing more than housecleaning when they got back to the trailer.
The rest of the shopping felt like it took them twelve hours, based solely on the way Malcolm’s heart raced with anticipation, and he wanted to rush Iggy through every aisle. But Iggy was a methodical shopper, and he wouldn’t be rushed, and Malcolm adored that trait, while also finding it incredibly irritating right now. They needed privacy and a flat surface soon.
Their trip ended in the deli, where Iggy grabbed a cold rotisserie chicken and a few sides. “So, we don’t have to worry about dinner,” he said with a saucy grin.
