Chapter 1
Grady
Grady Dalton was afraid he was becoming a stalker.
That hadn’t been his intent, of course. He couldn’t say exactly what his actual plan had been. What he knew was that after breaking up with yet another boyfriend, in yet another city, he’d needed a change. He also needed to put down roots. At thirty-eight, it was high time.
That was how he’d found himself in Everett, a small town in Briar County, North Carolina. It was where Nathan grew up—Nathan, whom Grady had met his first day of basic training and who became his best friend. They’d looked at each other, eyes catching, and…well, the motherfucker had given him a cocky grin before beating his ass in one of the exercises. In the beginning, Grady had thought he hated him, but really, he was pretty sure he’d always known he hadn’t. Even from that initial, brief glance, he knew Nathan would be an important part of his life.
They’d become friends right away—though always in competition with each other.
They’d admitted to each other they were both queer. Nathan was the first person to know Grady was gay, and Grady was the first person Nathan had told.
They’d spent four years in the army, then moved to DC together.
They’d learned to be okay with who they were together. They’d gone out and danced and met men. They’d had a second sort of growing up together, one where they’d been authentically themselves.
Nathan had been Grady’s family when Grady came out to his own and they turned their backs on him.
Then Grady had supported Nathan when he’d made the decision to come out to his own family at thirty years old. Only Nathan hadn’t had the chance. He’d been driving to Everett to see them when he’d gotten into the car accident that had taken his life.
He and Nathan had never been lovers, not once, but the man had been his brother, his confidant, a part of his soul.
And now, seven years later, Grady was in the town Nathan had told him so much about, while stalking his dead best friend’s sister’s husband.
Stalking was maybe a strong word to use. Following? That was just as bad. Interested in talking to him? Though he didn’t know what he would say. He didn’t plan on outing Nathan. But while Nathan had been nervous to tell his family, he’d always said that out of everyone, he knew his sister, Birdie, wouldn’t care.
Sadness washed over him. Grady had known the man for twelve years and didn’t even know Nathan’s sister’s real name. He’d always called her Birdie. He knew Deacon’s, though—he’d listened to stories about her husband and Sundae’s Best, the ice cream parlor Deacon owned.
Grady had yet to see Birdie, but he’d seen Deacon, hence the whole creeper vibe he had going on. What did a guy say to the family of the man who’d known him better than anyone in the world, when said family likely didn’t know Grady existed?
He watched the brick ice cream shop across the street, taking in the old-fashioned facade. The black awning over the glass door and the large window out front provided a nice contrast to the inside of the place, which was painted in white, pinks, and other bright colors.
He’d seen Deacon enter earlier, before Grady had gone to lunch. It was fall, but he noticed they still stayed busy. It wasn’t cold yet, but he had a feeling the winter months wouldn’t slow down people’s clear love for Deacon’s ice cream.
He needed to get his ass off the bench, approach the man, and ask him where Grady could find Deacon’s wife—in the least psycho way possible.
He also needed to get a job if he was going to stay in Everett—or hell, regardless. He had a bit of money saved after leaving Richmond, where he’d settled for the last year, but if he didn’t put down roots in Briar County, he’d have to somewhere, and that would require the money to continue to come in and not just out. For now, he’d rented a small house in Everett. It wasn’t his dream place by any stretch of the imagination, but it would do. He was an easy guy. He didn’t need a lot.
It was stupid, coming here. He didn’t know what he’d thought would happen—that Nathan’s family would welcome him with open arms? That they’d be to him what his own family hadn’t been? Did he think he’d find here what he couldn’t find with any of the men he’d dated either—connection, something real, something more than how much fun they had being naked together?
Fuck, he was being mopey today.
He stood up, walked down Wildflower Street and away from Deacon.
There was a part-time job available at a place called Covington Supply Co in Harmony, a small town not far from Everett. The store was a one-stop shop for feed, farm and gardening supplies, and the like.