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Couldn’t blame them, to be honest.

About halfway through the evening, Natasha and I were watching from the sidelines as couples danced the night away under the stars in the lavishly appointed atrium to the DJ’s perfectly curated playlist. After a few minutes spent smiling at how much everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves—including Rita, Janice, and Maxwell, who appeared to be behaving, to my utter surprise and suspicion—I noticed Henry, sleeves of his white heather Henley rolled up to showcase his tattooed forearms, push into the space with a metal tub full of ice and head toward the bar we’d set up in the far corner atop a long banquet table.

When I saw unusual movement on the dance floor out of the corner of my eye, I turned just in time to see Janice wave at Rita and both of them start ambling toward the open bar.

Fuck my life—I spoke too soon.

Sensing Henry would need saving at some point, I headed over to him, reaching him just before the women did. Sidling up next to him, I leaned over and whispered “Prepare yourself” before Janice popped up.

“Tristan, you are looking dapper this evening!”

I tugged at the lapels on my jacket—the only one I owned and had found when I’d gone to finalize the details at the thrift shop that donated the evening wear for tonight—and preened. “Thank you, Janice! Rita, good to see you, too! How are you ladies enjoying the night?”

Rita’s eyes sparkled as she gripped her walker, her tiny hips swaying side to side a bit as she danced in place. “This is so lovely, young man. It’s such fun! Thank you for helping Natasha put this on for us.”

I felt my cheeks heat a bit at the compliment. “You are so welcome. You both look gorgeous tonight.”

Rita’s eyelashes fluttered, and Janice blushed before she turned her unwavering gaze on Henry. I moved closer to him until our bodies were touching in multiple places and grabbed his hand, clutching it behind our legs where no one would be able to see. He would need the fortification. “And who is this handsome young man?”

I covered my snort with a cough when Henry glared at me. Scratching my nose, I cleared my throat and faced the firing squad—er, little old ladies. “This is Henry. He graciously agreed to help us tonight.” I squeezed his bicep, and Rita gasped, nearly swooning. I was glad she had her walker to hold her up. “Figured we’d put all this muscle to good use.”

“My, my,” Janice exclaimed, reaching for his other bicep as if to test my claim, and fuck if Henry didn’t blush all the way to his hairline. I bit back another laugh. “Aren’t you a snack?”

I did laugh out loud that time; I couldn’t help myself. “Hands off, ladies. This one’s mine.”

Janice removed her hand, but Rita tittered, scooting forward until her walker nearly bumped Henry’s thighs. “Nothing says we can’t enjoy the view, sugar,” she said, clearly addressing me though her eyes were scanning Henry up and down.

My man squirmed in place, an adorable reaction, and I chuckled. I was living for this.

“Okay, okay,” I inserted after another ten seconds or so of blatant ogling. “Be gentle, please.”

Rita’s face softened, and she reached up, cupping her frail hand in a clear attempt to pat Henry’s cheek. Unfortunately, even stretched as far as she could, her arm wasn’t quite long enough to touch him.

With a wary glance at me—that I returned with a confirming nod—Henry leaned forward, allowing Rita to place her hand on his cheek. “We’re just fucking with you, baby. Henry, is it?”

He blinked, and I smiled at Rita’s affection. Henry nodded.

“You listen here, Henry. I’m Rita, and this is Janice. We’re going to take care of you. Be your surrogate mothers if you need that.” She pursed her lips, cocking her head to study him in a completely non-lascivious way this time. “Is your mother still around?”

Because I was watching the side of Henry’s face so closely, I didn’t miss the way his eyes shone with unshed tears at her words. I clutched his hand tighter, still out of view. “I . . .” The single syllable came out broken, so he cleared his throat before continuing. “My parents are still alive, ma’am, but they don’t speak to me. They . . . they don’t want anything to do with me now that I’m—”

“Gay?” Janice interjected, and the other woman smacked her with the back of her hand.

“That’s rude, Janice!” Rita hissed at her friend. “Maybe he’s bi! We can’t make assumptions.”

At that, Henry started chuckling. “Gay is correct. And yes. I haven’t spoken with them in four years —when they cut me off.”

Rita gasped. “Those bastards.”

I barked out a laugh. “You are the best.”

Janice scoffed. “And Henry’s parents are the worst.”

“Hard agree.” Taking a small step away from Henry, I lifted our joined hands and brought them to my lips to press a kiss to his skin.

When I dropped our hands in front of us, Rita put her wrinkled hand on top of ours, and Janice followed suit. “But now you have us.”

Henry’s tears did fall then, and I swore my eyes filled as well. “Thank you, ladies,” he whispered. The DJ was between songs, the only reason we all heard him.