Winter grinned. “Yeah, we met. Tiller’s right. Smells amazing in here. He told me you’re a chef who specializes in feeding pro athletes. That’s killer. I’d love to pick your brain sometime. I work with some of the Broncos and Rockies players in the off-season whenever they get out this way, and I’ve got a few pro skiers in Steamboat who could really use some dietary fine-tuning.”
I must have had a weird expression on my face because Tiller’s hand tightened on my hip, and he met my eyes. “Babe, Winter and his husband live right around the corner in that cabin with the red roof. Remember we saw it yesterday on the way back from breakfast?”
Babe? I liked it, but was he really not concerned about claiming me in front of a complete stranger? Wait. Husband. Hot PT was taken.
I shook off my stupidity and was blessed with brain waves. “Yes! Good. Oh, hey. Would you two want to come over for dinner tonight? I’m making enough to feed an army, and we could really use some taste testers for one of my recipes.”
Winter’s eyes widened in delight. “Oh, hell yeah. Let me text Gent to make sure, but I think we’re good. That would be amazing. What time do you want us here, and what can we bring?”
After arranging the details, we sent Winter to his final appointment of the day. When we returned to the kitchen, I asked Tiller about it. “You’re not worried he’s going to tell someone we’re… whatever we are?”
Tiller grinned at me. “What are we, Mikey?”
I flapped my hand in the air between us as if that answered it. He raised an eyebrow.
“Gah! Don’t make me use words. The ‘babe’ thing. The kiss. You know what I mean.”
He leaned in and kissed me again, wrapping his arms around me and leaning me backward a little bit so I was off-balance. I clung to him and went with it, enjoying the way he took charge of my mouth. By the time we came up for air, I didn’t care who the hell knew.
“Winter’s husband is a celebrity, so he gets it,” Tiller said. “Besides, once I found out he was gay, I got an itch to make sure he knew you weren’t available. I didn’t realize he was with someone until later.”
I could get very used to being unavailable as long as it meant Tiller Raine kept kissing me.
13
Tiller
Spending the evening with Winter and Gent was way more fun than I’d expected. When Mikey had first floated the offer of dinner to Winter, I’d bitten back a wince. I wanted Mikey all to myself right now. I knew this time in Colorado was limited, and I wanted to spend as much of it as possible alone with my favorite person. There was an unspoken understanding we wouldn’t be able to continue this… whatever it was we were doing… when we returned home.
But Winter and Gentry were great company, and seeing Mikey’s pride as he served up each dish and answered Winter’s questions about his cooking was worth it. He was in his element. Mikey loved feeding people and having willing tasters to experiment recipes on.
Mikey sat down after serving dessert. “Is it true everyone in Aster Valley is gay?” he asked with a teasing smile. “We’ve been here like forty-eight hours and we’ve only met gay dudes. Not that I’m complaining.”
Gent chuckled. He was the lead singer of one of Mikey’s favorite bands, and when Mikey had opened the door earlier to see the singer/songwriter standing there, he gasped loudly enough to wake hibernating bears nearby. It had only taken a couple of glasses of wine to calm Mikey down enough to remember Gentry Kane was a regular guy despite being the lead singer of GUS. “Then you’ve had an unusual experience. When I moved here, it felt like Pim and Bill were the only gay guys around. They’d dealt with some homophobia early on, but it started getting better several years ago. I think Truman’s the only one who’s had any bad experiences lately, but I think that has more to do with his history here than his sexuality. Our friends Mindy and Mia are always mistaken for sisters, but that’s because they really do look alike. For the most part, it’s becoming an artistic little town that seems to be attracting more and more LGBT folks.”
Mikey frowned. “What do you mean about Truman? Does he get bullied?”
Winter leaned in to reach for the wine bottle. As he poured his husband a refill, he began to tell us the story of Truman’s role in the ski slope shutdown.
“This was right before the Salt Lake Olympics. Langdon Goode was training here before heading off to Salt Lake. Truman’s dad managed the resort at the time. Anyway, Truman was a kid—maybe four or five?—and had always wanted to try his grandfather’s old metal sled. So one night he snuck it out and took it for a spin on the slopes. The moon was pretty full, I guess, because he said he saw a mountain lion at the edge of the slope. Scared him shitless. He took off running for home, not even thinking about the sled he left behind.”