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“Who indeed.”
“And the more I said no to them, the more of a snob I became….” He rolled his hand, then shrugged.
“Snob? You? That’s not what I see.”
What do you see? “Thanks.”
They entered a street with identical white homes, and Ed pulled up outside a well-maintained Cape Cod house. “Home sweet home.”
Jack clumsily pulled himself out of the truck and followed Ed to the front door. He folded his hands, then dropped them to his side, then stuffed them into his pockets.
“Relax,” Ed said, his lip tugging up at the side. “Just be yourself. They think you’re a friend, so you don’t have to worry about an interrogation.”
The reminder slapped the excitement out of him. “Right.” Friends.
“They’ll love you, trust me.”
The scent of a wonderful home-cooked meal welcomed them into the house.
Memories of coming home from practice to the smell of dinner slammed into Jack. He reached out and braced himself on the wall. Fuck. Get it together.
He followed Ed toward the smell.
Don’t lose it, Jack. He repeated it three more times before they traversed the small living room and entered the dining room with the table set for five.
Daisies sat in the little crystal vase Ed had bought last weekend. Jack bit down on a smile and the urge to tuck Ed into him for a slow kiss.
He put another inch between them as Ed called out to his mom. “Dinner smells great.”
Emily Knowles wiped her hands on a red apron and beamed at her son. “You act like I never cook anymore.” She kissed his cheek before locking eyes with Jack. Her smile was all Ed. So were her looks. Close to fifty perhaps, she maintained an active figure. Gray hairs almost outnumbered the brown, but she carried them well. “You must be Jackson.” She held out both hands, grasping his in the process. “Nice to meet you. Welcome.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Knowles, I appreciate you inviting me over for dinner.”
“Please, call me Emily.”
“No, ma’am. If I did that my parents would be appalled by my lack of manners.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Well, Mrs. Knowles is better than ‘ma’am,’ I suppose.”
A laugh came from behind them, and Jack turned toward a teenage girl with a pink streak in her blonde hair. “Who’s this?” she asked her brother, eyes darting to up and down Jack, as if trying to suss him out.
“Jack’s a friend of mine,” Ed said, and Jack choked back a wince.
“Good for you, bro. Was thinking you didn’t have any.”
Ed flushed and grabbed his sister by the back of the neck. It looked a cross between a friendly hug and a pinch. Siblings at their best. “I’m usually too busy for friends, Becks.”
Becky smiled over at Jack. “You must be special then.”
There appeared to be no hidden meaning behind the tossed comment, but Jack felt Ed stiffen from three feet away.
Clearing his throat, Ed backed toward the door. “C’mon, Jack. Dad’s in the den watching basketball.”
Ed led them down a flight of stairs to a finished basement. The bright red carpet looked out of place against the panel-covered walls. Clearly this was a man cave meant for Ed and his dad.
Mr. Knowles was nothing like Jack expected. He was tall, his dark hair thick and graying. Instead of work pants and a T-shirt, he wore khakis and a collared shirt.
“Dad, this is my friend Jack.”
“Eugene Knowles. Gene,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jack. Eddy’s told us quite a bit about you. Good to put a face to the name.”
“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Knowles. Ed always speaks highly of you and his family. I’m glad to meet you too.” Jack swiveled to face the screen. “Who’s winning?”
“Not sure.” Gene laughed. “I don’t follow either team, so I was only half watching. Been switching between the game and Rio Bravo.”
Jack grinned. “The one with John Wayne and Dean Martin?”
Father and son stared at him for a moment, then smiled at each other. “Is there another?” Gene asked.
Jack laughed. “Not that I know of. My granddad and I used to watch westerns together every weekend. He’s a big fan of the ‘the Duke,’ as he called him.”
“Well then, young Mr. Murphy—” Gene put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the couch. “—you come sit here, and the three of us will skip this game and watch a classic.”
* * *
Gene left when the movie ended, leaving Jack alone with Ed in the man cave. Ed peered over his shoulder toward the stairs, then put his arm around Jack’s shoulder. Their gazes clashed, and a spark sizzled through him.
Ed’s soft lips brushed over his once. Then he paused, dragging his nose lightly over his cheek. They looked at each other for a tingling second, and then Ed cupped the back of Jack’s neck and dragged his lips over his jaw, to his ear, and down the column of his neck, pausing at the pulse. Could Ed taste his excitement?
