Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

Well,now I have a problem. It’s the end of my shift, and I don’t know what I’m going to tell Berty.

I’m renting a cute little one-bedroom house two doors down from my boss and his husband, but they aren’t exactly my agony aunts. He must be expecting me to have something important to talk about.

Like, I want to hand in my notice. And that was the plan… right up until Gage walked through the door.

I know I shouldn’t think with my dick when I’m making big life decisions. But what about my heart?

No. That’s even dumber. It’s not like we’re in love. I mean, we barely know each other. Maybe he was just lonely and freaking out because it’s his first day back here after so long away, and he’ll never want to talk to me again.

I’m standing at the top of the dock, studying the golf carts in the parking lot as I kick gravel from the metal ramp back up to the turning circle in the road.

“There,” I grunt with satisfaction as I scuff the sole of my trainer across the ramp one more time to get those last few rocks.

I don’t have a lot of time to figure out what to do. Berty and Doug live right here, overlooking the wharf and restaurant, and I can literally see my own front door.

“Kieran?”

Ah, shit. I know that cheerful voice. It’s my boss.

I turn toward his house and raise a hand as I spot Berty—and the much quieter Doug—sitting on their front porch.

They’re often found here, side-by-side in the wooden porch swing. Berty loves to spend an afternoon ambushing passersby for conversation, while Doug keeps his nose buried in a Sudoku book.

Seeing them like this, it makes something in my chest glow with the kind of tenderness and hope I don’t want to admit to out loud.

Maybe that’ll be me one day.

And now I’m imagining what Gage will look like in twenty or thirty years’ time.

Fuck. Right back to my problem. Berty’s waving me over, and I can’t avoid this any longer.

“Hiya,” I tell them when I reach the porch.

“Hello! Do take a seat, darling,” Berty tells me like he’s my ferry skipper for the day. Then he adds, “Lemonade? Cookies?”

A glass-topped table sits in between the wooden swing and the set of four cushioned wicker chairs. There’s a pitcher, empty glasses, and a plate stacked high with different kinds of home-baked cookies.

“Thank you,” I groan, dropping into a chair and leaning forward eagerly for a chocolate chip cookie while Berty pours me a glass of lemonade. I bite into it and sigh, closing my eyes as I shake my head. “They’re so good.”

“They sure are, eh?” Berty beams proudly. He elbows Doug, and Doug glances up from his book to nod his thanks for the compliment.

For a moment, it almost feels like a normal chat... except that Doug doesn’t look back down at his book, and Berty doesn’t say anything. They’re both just watching me quietly.

Is there something on my face? Did I put on my uniform inside-out this morning?

I almost choke on the final mouthful of my cookie. I grab the glass and swig some lemonade to wash it down.

They trade looks and smiles, and then Berty laughs. “Sorry,” he tells me. “We were just wondering what you had to say. No pressure, though. In your own time?—”

Doug shifts against the swing. It’s only a little movement, but considering how hard it is to escape Berty’s rambling conversations, it amazes me that it’s enough to make him go quiet.

“Oh, uh…” I fold my hands tightly in my lap as my eyes dart across the porch, trying to figure out the best strategy.

Do I tell them I want to leave? Or do I play it off, invent some other reason I wanted to talk to them? Should I give it a few days and see if there really is anything with Gage?

“Hey, kiddo,” Berty tells me softly. “Sure is weird when you’re not smiling. Talk to us. We’re friends right now, not your boss.”

Relief makes my shoulders slump as I look up at him. “Sorry. It’s just… I’m a little lost right now.”

“What’s the problem?” Doug asks in his quiet, soothing baritone.

And the honest answer comes out of my mouth just like that. “Gage Russell.”

Shit. Now I’m blushing.

They raise their eyebrows and look at each other like they’re having a whole conversation. Then Berty looks at me again. “Gage Russell, eh? What about him?”

God. How is even Gage’s name hot? I tug at the collar of my uniform polo shirt as I try to distract myself from my first thought.

I want to march into this big, sexy mountain man’s cabin and lick all the sweat off his muscles after a day of long, hard work.

No. I can’t say that.

“Uh, Gage…” I stutter. Berty starts to grin, and the more he smiles, the hotter my cheeks get. “I mean, I—we—no, there is no—but—I don’t know. We just met. Like, literally today.”

I plant my face in my palms and groan. Shit, I think I answered their question in a whole different way.

“Uh huh?” Berty pushes off against the deck boards to start the porch swing rocking gently, and Doug sets aside his Sudoku book, leaning back to watch me.

It’s crazy to say out loud, but I only got to touch him for the briefest moment, and there’s already a strange hope blossoming in me. A wild daydream I’ve never really let myself have before.

“But—but I’ve only got a few months until my working holiday visa runs out. I was going to give you my notice today.”

This won’t come as a surprise. Back when Berty hired me, I warned him upfront I probably wouldn’t stick around more than two or three months. He just grinned and told me he’d wait to see… and he was right about that.

Berty nods at me. “But then… Gage Russell,” he says with all the understanding in the world.

A little too much, in fact.

“It’s dumb,” I groan, covering my face with both hands as I lean back in the chair. “I know. You don’t need to tell me twice—or even once. It’s a bad idea to stay for love. Or, uh… anything else.”

Doug’s just smiling quietly, watching me like he sees something familiar in me—perhaps even nostalgic.

“Reckless? Maybe,” Berty says with a shrug. “But we’re the last couple to talk to if you want someone to discourage you from recklessness. Look at us. When we were dumb twenty-somethings, we moved to an island and started three new businesses at once.”

“Didn’t turn out to be that dumb after all,” I laugh.

Berty’s not laughing, but his eyes are gleaming as he watches me carefully. “Exactly. You’re nervous, aren’t you? How often does that happen?”

I shake my head. Almost never. “But how do you know when it’s the right kind of dumb, and when it’s just… dumb-dumb?”

Berty chuckles and swaps looks with Doug again. “You don’t. Hell, kid. You think we knew we were geniuses back then? We didn’t even know for sure if we were gonna work out, much less everything else. Nobody does. We just decided to do it, and we went and did it.”

I swallow hard. Something in my belly goes all tight and hot and excited at the image in my mind. Twenty years from now, it could be me and Gage playing Scrabble with Doug and Berty, talking to a lost gay boy who wants so badly to be found.

Okay, now I’m fully freaking the fuck out, because I’m definitely not the type to meet a hot guy and imagine my future with them.

“Trust your heart,” Doug tells me, his voice as slow and soothing as ever. It’s like he’s weighing out every syllable. “Where does it point you?”

I turn to look from the porch, all the way down to the slivers of beach visible past the gnarled tree trunks along the shoreline. I can’t see beyond the rocky point, but I know what lies that way: the orchard. Gage’s orchard.

Shit.

“Will you do us a favour?” Berty asks.

“Of course.” I look back at him just in time to see him grin slyly at Doug. Shit. I hope I don’t live to regret that promise. “What is it?” I add suspicously.

“Bring him some things from us. Doug, are there any pies in the freezer? And I bet he’d like something hot for supper, too.” Berty rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“We have the last of the apples. It’ll take ninety minutes. Less if I preheat the oven right now,” Doug says, pushing himself to his feet.

I could just about cry. After our conversation, I know how much this is going to mean to Gage—and it means a lot to me, too.

This place, and everyone here… it’s really special.

“Thanks, honey,” Berty leans in to peck Doug on the lips as he sidles past me and opens the screen door. “Okay. Do you want to come by in a couple of hours? Or stay here? There’s more lemonade inside…”

Uh oh. I know the look in Berty’s eye. He’s planning to talk my ear off like normal, now that the serious conversation is over.

“Um…”

Doug looks back over his shoulder and shakes his head, his eyes twinkling. “Let the poor boy change and shower before he goes to see young master Gage Russell.”

I’m blushing furiously. God help me, he’s teasing me just as much as he’s letting me off the hook.

“Oh!” I look up at them. “And I’ll make him something for supper, too!”

Berty hesitates, clears his throat, and looks toward the house before hastily nodding at me. “Yeah. I bet he’d really appreciate that.”

Both of them saw my trial day in the kitchen. There’s a reason I’m working service, and I’m only allowed to do the easy lunch menu. I can just about manage fried and frozen foods… maybe put together a sandwich, at a stretch.

But if Gage Russell is living in a shed with no power or lights, I can figure out how to follow one simple recipe. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll get invited into that shed for activities that definitely don’t require power, or lights… or even clothes.

I hope I’m being the right kind of young and dumb. But I guess there’s no way to know that yet. I just have to follow my heart and find out what happens.

After all, it led me here.