16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Kate was on her break, and it was a quiet afternoon, so Will grabbed his laptop from his office and was working his way through some of the resumes he'd gotten in response to his job posting a few days back.

Tonight, he and Enzo were going to cart over the last of his stuff to Enzo's place. Giana was over the moon, fluttering around like she'd just won the lottery. It didn't matter that Enzo had reminded her a dozen times over the last few days that their relationship was still new, that they didn't want any interference or "helpful advice," she kept walking around with stars in her eyes.

Stars that reminded Will a little of himself every time he looked in the mirror.

She had refrained from saying, "I told you so," but probably only because she still thought she'd set them up in the first place. That it was her matchmaking that had brought them together.

Will supposed that was technically accurate. If Giana hadn't been so pushy, he never would've suggested he and Enzo go on a fake date.

And that fake date had led to all those other, real , ones.

Last night, Enzo had said, leaning against the sink as Will had brushed his teeth, that maybe someday they'd need to come clean.

Will understood why he wanted to be honest, but ugh, that was going to be one can of worms once it was opened.

"She can't be pissed because what she wanted still happened," was Enzo's argument, and yeah, Will could see that logic.

He also thought Enzo was intentionally underestimating how peeved his mother might be by their deliberate lies.

Will pulled up another resume and, after scanning it, decided she would at least be worth an interview, and moved onto the next.

The bell jingled over the door, and he glanced up.

His "Welcome to Cherry's" was half out of his mouth before it died. Before he trailed off in utter surprise.

"Mom!" he exclaimed, shocked. "Dad!"

"Oh, honey, the pictures didn't do this place justice," Carla said as she wandered around, her bright blue eyes, the same color as his, taking in the bright white walls, the candy pink striped booth cushions, the comfortable but old-fashioned white enamel chairs he'd spend ages sourcing.

"Yeah, they really didn't." His father walked over to the counter and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's good to see you, son."

Will gazed at him, still shocked at their appearance. "It's . . .uh . . .good to see you too. Didn't expect you. At all."

Why are you here?

'Cause you're proud of me and wanted to finally see what I did?

Or because you want to convince me in person to do what you want?

"You've built something really nice," his mom said, giving him an approving smile.

"Yeah," Will said uneasily. He wasn't naive enough to believe that because the former was true, the latter wouldn't be either.

"Your mom said it was busier?" Patrick Johnson was all business.

"It's quiet in the early afternoons, but in a few hours, we'll be slammed," Will said. Disliking the fact that his parents had been here for less than five minutes and he was already trying to prove to them that he was doing good.

He'd been a good father, from the angle that he'd instilled responsibility and determination in his sons. But everything else . . . yeah . Will couldn't say his childhood had been shit. He knew he'd had a better one than a lot of kids out there, but sometimes he'd just wished for his dad to show some softness. Some love or approval that didn't come directly from whatever accomplishment they'd just achieved.

Will knew he'd been trying to gain his unconditional love forever, and that was one of the reasons he'd finally come to Indigo Bay and opened Cherry's.

The first thing he'd done entirely for him.

Because he'd wanted to. Because he'd wanted to carve himself a place that wasn't dependent on his family.

"I'm not surprised, you know how to run a good business . . ." Carla said, trailing off.

"It's a nice town, too. Busy downtown. Clean streets. Lots of tourists. Reminds me of a lot of places we've opened shops," Patrick said. "This was a good move, son. Diversification is everything. You know that."

Will did not roll his eyes. But he still considered it.

"Yeah, I do," he said instead. "Not that I'm not happy that you're here, but why are you here?"

"Can't we want to see you, see what you've created here?" His mother shot him a smile.

Will did not bring up that he'd been open for months now, which he thought was heroic levels of restraint on his part.

He did not bring up Tybee Island either, even though part of him just wanted to cut through all this crap and get to the bottom of why they were here, sooner rather than later.

"You want some ice cream?"

"Oh, just a taste," Carla said, when Patrick shook his head. "Come on, Pat. You gotta try it. It's homemade, right?"

"Yep."

Will's plastic sample spoons were the same bright cherry pink as the stripes on the walls. He did roll his eyes a little as he grabbed a handful and bent down into the ice cream case, picking a handful of different flavors before passing them to his parents.

"This is the dark chocolate espresso bean," he said as his father's face creased into pleasure at all the flavors exploding across his tongue.

There was nothing wrong with the ice cream they served at the Johnson's chain, but it wasn't made in-house with the best milk and cream and eggs he could get his hands on.

"Delicious," Carla said, as she sampled the brown butter cherry brickle he'd just finished perfecting. "You even make the vanilla here?"

Will swiped two more sample spoons into the bucket of Tahitian vanilla and watched as they both truly appreciated the complex flavor he'd accomplished.

Most vanilla was an absence of flavor, but he'd brought out the best in the beans he bought.

"It's all a bit pricey," Patrick said, "but the quality's there. That's some delicious ice cream, son."

"Thanks," Will said, genuinely pleased.

He'd been experimenting with homemade ice cream for years now, and there'd been a time when he'd tried to convince his father to swap out the ice cream they bought for his own, for the entire Johnson's chain.

Patrick never went for it, though, and in retrospect, Will could agree that he'd been right. They'd have had to raise prices, and that wasn't what Johnson's was.

It was what Cherry's was, though, and Will was proud of that.

He was just beginning to think, to actually hope , that they understood that, too, but then his mother said, "You seem like you're all settled in."

You know better than to expect things to be different.

"Yeah," Will said cautiously.

Patrick set his elbows on the counter and leveled that same stare at Will that he'd given him in little league and in high school debate and the first time he'd tried to resist uprooting his life for Johnson's. "Brewer's in over his head in Tybee," he said bluntly.

"Of course he is. That's not Brewer's skill set," Will said. If his dad could be blunt, then so could he.

"Because that's always been yours ," Carla added persuasively.

It was true. But that didn't mean he wanted to spend his entire life using it for Johnson's.

"You said when you left and came here to start this place that you'd still help us out if we needed you."

He'd said that because he'd been trying to forestall any panicked freakouts.

Of course, he'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. But here they were, wanting to cash in on that promise.

"I know I did, but I'm still getting up and running here." Will shrugged, trying to keep himself calm. "Cherry's has to be my priority now."

His parents exchanged looks. Will didn't need a translator to understand what they weren't saying. We didn't expect him to stick to his guns like this. We expected him to crumple, if we showed up.

But Enzo had been right the other night when they'd talked at the beach. If he didn't stick to this line he'd drawn now, he'd never be able to get them to respect it.

"We're in a real bind," Carla said. "Surely you can help us for a week. Two, maybe."

"Tops," Patrick added.

But Will knew how that worked. One week would turn into two would turn into four. And he couldn't leave Kate for that kind of time. Not yet.

Even if he wanted to. And he didn't want to.

"I can't," Will said. "I'm sorry, but I really can't."

He was waiting for one of them to bring up his manager, and of course that was the moment Kate walked out of the back, a perplexed expression on her face.

"Everything alright, boss?"

Will winced, internally. Naturally she'd had to use that nickname just then.

"Uh, everything's fine," Will said. Introduced his parents as quickly and painlessly as he could.

Then Kate turned to him and said, "I thought you were gonna meet Enzo for lunch?"

Ugh . Enzo. He would be in here in a few minutes and they'd grab a late lunch together. That was the plan anyway.

But the last thing he wanted to spring on his brand-new boyfriend was his parents being here, unexpectedly. And not just to check out Cherry's, but to persuade him to come with them.

Enzo wasn't going to want to be around for that conversation.

"Who's Enzo?" Carla asked.

"Uh . . ." Will trailed off, shooting Kate a Please help, please please please help look. "He's painting the mural on the side of the building. Did you notice him when you came in?"

"Oh, we approached from the other side," Patrick said. "We'll have to check that out, when we leave."

Oh God, please don't.

"Can you . . ." Will motioned Kate closer. "Can you uh . . .go intercept him? Tell him I'm sorry but something came up and he'd be better off grabbing lunch on his own? And I'll take my parents to Oliver's for a sandwich?"

Kate nodded, but there were a hundred questions, barely restrained, in her gray eyes, as she turned and walked out the front door.

"When she's back, we'll go grab a sandwich at the local bakery," Will announced. "And we can . . .uh . . .discuss this further."

His mother's expression brightened, like she thought the discussion would entail something other than Will saying no , over and over again.

"I knew you'd see sense, son," Patrick said, patting him on the shoulder again. Will flinched. Not for the first time he wished he'd already moved to Enzo's apartment, which had a rudimentary kitchen. It wouldn't be much, but he could take them there for lunch and avoid a public scene.

Not that his parents ever made a scene. But he had a feeling that if he kept firm, it wasn't going to be particularly pretty.

Of course, if he did take them to Enzo's, he'd have to explain exactly who Enzo Moretti was to him. Like he wasn't just the guy painting the side of his building.

Enzo was just about down from the scaffolding, glancing up as he took in his work from the morning, pleased with the way the ship was coming together, when he spotted Kate approaching.

"Hey," he said, picking up a water bottle and draining the last of it. He was supposed to meet Will for a late lunch before he headed to Charleston to pick up a few things that would hopefully make Will's move later that night a little easier.

Another dresser was going to be necessary. More hangers. Something in the kitchen besides one pan and one sad half-melted plastic spatula.

"Will's parents are here," Kate said under her breath as she walked closer. "And he is freaking out."

Enzo's eyebrows went right up, nearly to his hairline. "What?"

"He told me to come out here and tell you to stay away but . . .he needs you, Enzo. He's going to fold, and he doesn't want to."

"He told you to tell me not to show up for lunch?" Enzo was a little baffled by this. "Does he not want me to meet his parents?"

Kate shot him a frank look. "He's not thinking clearly. But I think he's trying to save you from getting dragged into this mess."

"Maybe it's a mess, but isn't that what a partner's supposed to be around for? Making things a hell of a lot easier? Not only does he have a business here, he has a boyfriend. He said he wanted roots; he's got them now," Enzo said.

"You gonna go charging in there like a white knight and save him?" Kate sounded full of disbelief, which was totally unfair.

Enzo could do the right thing. He did the right thing all the freaking time.

"Yes," Enzo said firmly.

Kate smiled then, all that disbelief melting into approval. "Knew you would," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "You're a good guy, Enzo."

"Did you really do all that to convince me to do the right thing?" Enzo complained. He took off his bandana and ran his hand through his curls, damp with sweat. This was not how he'd hoped to meet Will's parents—not that he'd really spent a whole lot of brain power on that eventuality—but he also understood there wasn't time to waste.

Kate looked annoyingly smug. "Worked, didn't it?"

"It was going to work anyway," Enzo grumbled. He shoved his bandana into the pocket of his paint-stained shorts. "Come on, let's go deal with this."

When he walked into Cherry's, a tall man with the look of Will's build and a woman with Will's blue eyes turned to him.

Will didn't look particularly happy to see him, but he also didn't look particularly surprised either.

More resigned to the inevitable, if Enzo had to guess.

"Hi, I'm Enzo Moretti," Enzo said brightly, plastering on his best I'm a good guy and I'm gonna be a good guy for your son smile. It wasn't one he'd had much occasion to use, but he'd witnessed Luca utilizing it enough over the years with Oliver's mom.

He held out his hand and shook both their hands briskly. Wishing he'd had at least time to wash the paint off, but at least it wasn't wet anymore.

Probably.

"Patrick Johnson. And this is my wife, Carla. We're Will's parents. Thought we'd stop by on our way to Tybee, see him in person," the man said. He had a firm handshake, firm enough that even Luca probably approved.

"Nice to meet you."

"You must be the mural painter," Carla said, eyeing him speculatively.

"What gave it away?" Enzo winked, shifting from the good guy smile to the I'm a handsome rogue smile.

That one was a smile he was intimately familiar with and he knew he wore it well.

Carla melted as quickly as he'd expected.

"Oh, Will, is he just the mural painter?" she whispered, loudly enough that he could hear every single word.

Will met his eyes over her head. Yep. He was definitely resigned, but there was more too, now. He looked relieved that he wasn't in this alone anymore.

If Enzo had any say in it, he wasn't going to be alone, again.

Will had bailed him out with his mom, and now it was Enzo's turn.

"I hear we're all going to lunch," Enzo said casually, walking behind the counter and pressing a quick kiss against Will's mouth.

"I'd guess he's not just the mural painter," Patrick said dryly.

"I . . .it's still very new," Will said, by way of explanation. But he didn't move away. Instead, he slung an arm around Enzo's waist, like Enzo wasn't damp and sweaty.

Like they were a team now. A united front.

"Is it?" Patrick looked amused, not upset.

"Yes," Enzo said, "but serious."

Enzo wasn't surprised at all that Will hadn't told his parents about him. After all, it was new, and from everything Will had said, he wasn't necessarily going to tell them everything.

He was trying to set boundaries. Enzo understood all about that.

"Yeah," Will agreed, meeting Enzo's eyes. There were a bunch of questions lurking there, but also a lot of answers, too.

Yes, I'm glad you're here.

Sorry I tried to keep you away.

We're in this together, now.

"Well, let's go to lunch," Carla declared happily. "I would love to learn more about you, Enzo."

"And we'll talk more about you coming with us to Tybee," Patrick added.

Enzo didn't miss the determination in his expression as they walked out the door. Or the equally as certain look in Will's eyes that he wouldn't be going anywhere.

Phew . Enzo was going to have to be on his best dancing monkey behavior to distract Will's parents from what they'd come to Indigo Bay for.

"So, Enzo, tell us a little more about you," Carla asked as they walked down the sidewalk towards Sweetie Pie's. Will hadn't let go of him yet, which Enzo was taking as a very good sign. He'd hoped Will wouldn't be upset he'd ignored Kate's message, but this was even better than he'd envisioned.

Okay. He hadn't really envisioned anything .

It had been clear enough that Will had been trying to white-knuckle this situation alone, and Enzo just wasn't going to let him. He'd charged in, without really thinking it through at all.

"Mom," Will chided gently.

"I'm from here, originally," Enzo said. "My mom and I moved here when I was ten. Then five years ago I moved away, went to art school in San Francisco."

"And you're a full-time muralist?" This question was from Patrick.

Will hadn't said it explicitly that his father was a hard-ass businessman, but he didn't need to, now. Enzo could see it.

Will's dad was Luca, if he'd never met Oliver.

"Yep. Booked about a year in advance. All over the US. Even a few dates in Europe, now. Bless social media. It does all my marketing for me."

"You must have quite a reputation," Carla said approvingly.

"He's brilliant," Will said, his firm response making it clear he wouldn't tolerate any kind of argument on this point. Enzo flushed with pleasure.

He knew he was good, sure. People said it all the time. But hearing it from Will's lips meant something more.

"So you travel all over, but you're based here?" Carla asked as Patrick opened the door of Sweetie Pie's, ushering them all inside.

Enzo felt Will tense and knew they'd hit on the one potential wrinkle that worried both of them.

"Uh." Enzo hesitated. He didn't want to lie. Not to Will's parents. But what else could he say? "I wasn't before, but I am now." He glanced over at Will, meeting his eyes, full of sudden trepidation. "After meeting Will, it was a no-brainer. I want to be with him, as much as I can."

Carla melted again, but Patrick was a tougher nut to crack.

"That sounds awfully lonely for you, Will," Patrick said.

Yep, this guy was just as blunt as Luca had been. Before he'd been forced to learn how to be an actual human being with emotions and with tact .

Bless Oliver for all that work he'd put in, because Enzo had a feeling it hadn't been a particularly easy job.

"Not at all," Will said, his jaw jutting out with frustration and annoyance. "I'll have the business here."

"And I'll always make time for him," Enzo added, deciding that if Will was going to brazen this out, he could too.

"Let's order," Will said, turning towards the front counter.

They ordered sandwiches and iced coffees and then took a large table in the corner, Rocco eyeing their group with undeniable interest, but because Rocco had a brain in his head, at least he didn't offer any pointed comments.

Enzo was grateful for that, at least.

"I'm sure," Enzo said, after taking a sip of his iced coffee, eyeing Will's parents across from him, "that when Will's business is more established, he could even come with me to some projects. See the country."

"Will's business is established now," Carla argued.

It was pretty brazen for her to claim that now, when she'd just freaking arrived. Will tensed next to him, even though he'd hardly relaxed from the last time, and Enzo knew shit was about to hit the fan, no matter how public of a confrontation this might be.

At least there was nobody else in the bakery except for Rocco, who was not doing a very subtle job of listening in to the whole conversation.

Well, if that was all Rocco was doing, Enzo could hardly blame him for that.

Enzo's hand, lingering on Will's leg, squeezed his knee reassuringly. I'm here. I got you. He couldn't say it out loud, but he could tell Will in every other way that they were a team in this. Setting boundaries was hard and painful. Nobody would leave this conversation happy, but it had to be done.

"It's not," Will argued. "How would you even know? You've just showed up here for the first time. And only because you needed something."

"Well, it's good we did, or we might never know you were hiding a boyfriend," Carla said, amused.

"If Enzo's traveling all the time for work, then I don't see what the big deal is that Will travels, too," Patrick argued.

He would think that. Enzo was beginning to understand why Will had gotten frustrated arguing with his parents. They were pretty damn slippery.

"It's not about me traveling," Will argued. "It's about me setting down roots here. We're trying to make a life here."

"You just started dating," Carla said. Enzo had a feeling she wasn't trying to be dismissive but it came across dismissive anyway.

Enzo had been trying to not escalate the situation, but he wasn't sure he had a choice anymore.

Enzo squeezed Will's hand again. A warning. And something else too. A prepare yourself .

"Not just dating," he said, working hard at keeping his voice even. "Will's not just my boyfriend; he's my fiancé. We're getting married. Will can't leave, not now. Not just because of his business. That's the kind of life we're building together."

" What ," Carla exclaimed.

"I thought you said this was new!" Patrick argued. "How could you be engaged?"

Enzo was afraid to see the look on Will's face when he turned to look at him, but there was no anger, no frustration, no anything except pure fucking relief.

He'd taken a risk, but he'd also known how it had felt, when he'd had to do this exact same thing with his mother. The guilt he'd endured.

Maybe if Will's parents didn't think that it was just a fleeting thing, if they knew it was serious between them, maybe they'd stop pushing so goddamned hard.

"We uh . . .we've been talking for a long time, before we met in person," Will improvised. "His mom thought we'd be a good match and gave me his phone number. When we met in person . . ." Will trailed off and gazed into Enzo's eyes, deeply. He's really good at faking this. If he's faking it at all. "I already knew he was the man for me. Seeing him in person, being with Enzo, it only confirmed what I already knew."

"Oh. Well. That does change things a bit." Carla appeared to have softened, considerably. "We're very happy for you two. Congratulations."

"A bit surprised," Patrick added, but he was smiling now, "but yes, very happy. We'll manage on Tybee."

Enzo could barely believe that had worked. He'd hoped it might, but he certainly hadn't expected it to.

"Thanks, Dad," Will said dryly.

No doubt he was thinking the same thing Enzo was: they wouldn't accept me saying no when it was about my business, but I meet a man and that's all that matters.

It was ridiculous but Enzo wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Good, 'cause I'm not ready to let go of him yet," Will said, and his voice wasn't quite steady.

"I'd hope not," Patrick said, "if you're going to marry him."

Enzo was insane.

Enzo was insane and wonderful and brilliant, and Will had never wanted to kiss him more than he did right now.

Or tell him he loved him. Because he'd thought he might, before, but when Enzo had walked in, cocky and confident and so sure, ready to face head-on the messiness of his parents even though Will had warned him off, he'd been sure.

It was the moment he knew.

Maybe not the moment he'd knew he'd marry Enzo, but the moment he knew this was serious for him.

Though . . .considering what Enzo had just announced to his parents . . .maybe there would be wedding bells sometime in their future.

But not now. No way. Will was crazy about this guy but not crazy enough to marry him after dating him for only a few weeks. No matter how good the dating was.

"When's the wedding?" his mom asked excitedly.

Of course, Rocco had just arrived at their table with his hands full of sandwiches, and his jaw dropped open at her question.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Will was very certain Enzo had felt comfortable and safe making that declaration because his parents would be gone by tonight, and nobody else in town would know.

But now Rocco knew.

And if Rocco knew, Giana was sure to find out.

"Uh," Enzo said, very eloquently.

"Soon but it's going to be very small," Will said firmly.

"I just couldn't let another day go by without making him mine, forever," Enzo said, giving Will the gooiest smile in his repertoire. Will recognized it, because they'd exchanged quite a few of those looks on their fake dates.

And that was what this really was, wasn't it? Just another iteration of that.

"Wow," Rocco said.

Enzo shot his cousin a warning glare. "Not now, Rocco. Later ."

Rocco seemingly got the message, because he left then. Hopefully not to text every single person he knew in Indigo Bay.

"I can give you a list of what I usually do during a store opening. Brewer might find that helpful," Will said, changing the subject.

He was grateful Enzo had intervened. Something had been needed and he'd provided it. But he also didn't want to spend the rest of his lunch break talking about non-existent wedding plans.

"He would for sure," Patrick said with a firm nod. "We've done this before, of course, but this is a big opening for us."

Will asked about the location then, and as he'd expected, once his dad was off and running talking about business, the subject took over the whole conversation.

After Enzo finished his sandwich, he excused himself, and when he came back a few minutes later, Will was pretty sure he'd talked to Rocco and contained the situation.

The way Enzo reached down and squeezed his knee again seemed to confirm it.

"Well, it's too bad we're not staying," Carla said, with true reluctance. "I'd love to spend more time with you, Enzo. You seem like an excellent young man, with true feelings for Will."

"I've never felt this way before, about anyone," Enzo said and for a moment, Will was almost sure there was the ring of truth in his voice. He'd heard Enzo fake it enough, after all, but nothing about how he sounded now felt fake.

"We'll have to swing back around, after the opening," his dad said firmly.

"Definitely. And you said your mother lives here, in town?" Carla asked, an innocent expression plastered across her face.

But Will didn't believe it.

And he could feel Enzo freeze next to him.

Yep. There was no way he was letting his mother meet Giana Moretti anytime soon. And when they did eventually meet, it was going to be under very, very controlled circumstances.

Not when Enzo had just brazenly told his parents they were engaged.

"Yes," Enzo said cautiously.

"Oh, next time we're in town, I'll definitely have to meet her." Carla smiled.

"Yes, next time," Will said, emphasizing the last part of his sentence.

"I've got to get back to work, but it was wonderful to meet you," Enzo said, deploying another one of those smiles that melted his mother and even seemed to ensnare his father.

Enzo was something else.

Will adored him. Every single part of him.

"We'll also have to stop by to see the mural, when it's done," Carla said.

"Definitely," Enzo agreed, a twinkle in his eye.

He leaned down and apparently was not at all averse to PDA, even in front of Will's parents, because he gave him a kiss that would leave him thinking about Enzo's lips on his—on every single part of him—the rest of the afternoon.

Then he was gone, waving to Rocco, as he headed out the door.

"Well, he's sure something else," Carla said, with an approving nod as the door closed behind him.

"Yes," Will agreed. He could hardly argue with that assessment. "I've got to get back, as well. But I'll make sure to email you over that opening list, and some tips for Brewer."

"We appreciate it," Patrick said, putting a hand on Will's arm as he stood. "I'm just sorry you weren't able to come yourself."

Will wasn't surprised his father had gotten one last guilt trip in. Enzo had worked him hard, but Patrick Johnson wasn't the kind of man who would ever put personal life above business. Mom might've been convinced, but Patrick wouldn't be. Not entirely.

"I am too, but not that sorry," she said, giving him a quick hug. "Not after we've met what's keeping you here."

"Cherry's is what's really keeping me here," Will emphasized. "Enzo is just an added bonus."

"But what a bonus," Carla teased.

She was right, again.

Still, he was unbelievably grateful when he finally waved goodbye to them, a few minutes later and returned to Cherry's, walking in the door feeling like he'd just gone through a war.

Kate looked up as he walked in, not even bothering to hide her curiosity. "How did it go?" she asked.

Will just laughed. "Good. I think."

I just upgraded from a boyfriend to a fiancé.