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“All the pumpkins are over there,” Art says, using the knives like an air hostess pointing out the emergency exits. “Grab whichever one you like and get to work. I’ve got stencils and photos you can follow, plus a whole craft table if you want to get creative. Whatever you make is going to be decoration here for my Halloween party, so don’t fuck them up.” His face is lit up with excitement, the way it usually gets when he’s in the throes of a hair-brained idea.
“I’ll grab ours,” Ford says, squeezing my thigh.
“Sure. Want me to get drinks?”
“Thanks. I’ll have whatever you’re having.” He drops a kiss on my head and walks toward the table.
A second later, Molly scrambles after him.
My eyes meet Keller’s, and he jumps up to follow me to the bar.
“What’s going on there?” he asks, nodding across the room.
“I have a feeling your son might have a thing for my boyfriend.”
Keller’s face screws up. “No way.”
“Yes way.”
A full-body shudder runs through him. “It still fucks me up to consider he’s a grown-ass adult.”
“A grown-ass adult who probably should learn to keep his hands to himself,” I say pointedly as we both watch Molly laugh and grab Ford’s bicep. Ford hurriedly takes a step back.
Keller sighs. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Thank you.” I place my order with the barman, and something in the way Keller’s standing catches my attention. He’s still. Watching … Molly’s friend?
“You okay there, buddy?”
He jerks out of it and throws me a broad grin. “Sure am.” He steals my drink. “Let’s carve some pumpkins.”
Keller walks away, and I turn back to order another one, but Joey slides it across the bar before I can.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Hey …” He leans in. “You with that guy over there?” He jerks his head toward Ford.
Oh no. Is he going to tell mehe’sin love with Ford too?
“Yes,” I grumble. “He’s my boyfriend.”
“How long have you been together now?”
That’s a hard question to answer, considering things have only gotten official recently. “A little while. Why?”
“Curious.” A smile slowly spreads over his face. “So he’snotdating Art?”
“Art?” That would be a disaster. “No way.”
“Good to know …” Joey grabs the dishcloth slung over his shoulder and wipes over the countertop.
I’m about to ask him what’s so great about it, but I stop myself. Whatever is going on between him and Art is something I don’t need to know about, not when I have enough on my mind as it is.
I carry our drinks back to where Ford is waiting, and he starts bouncing in his seat.
“Can we make this? Can we? Can we?” The picture he holds up is of a pumpkin that’s been carved to look like a Volkswagen van.
I study it a minute, knowing it’s well beyond our range of competency. “We can give it a go.”
