Tough Luck (A-List Security 1)

“Figured.” She gave us both a knowing smile, gaze darting between us. “My brother and his husband are over in Berkley. You doing Pride this year?”

“Pride?” Cash blinked. Clearly, he hadn’t thought his cover story through enough.

“You’re not married?” Her head tilted, hair staying perfectly in place. “Thought it was real sweet how you’re getting a camera for your boy. Figured you for a long-time couple.”

“Ah.” Cash’s mouth opened and closed. I got ready to bail him out with a “we’re just friends,” but before I could, he took a breath. “Not married yet.”

“You’re still young. Especially that one.” Looking right at me, she waved a finger at Cash. “Cradle robber. My brother’s husband, John, is ten years younger than him. Always did like the pretty ones.”

She laughed, and I did as well. Cash got the idea a second too late and gave a forced chuckle. “Yeah.”

“If you do tie the knot, come back here to do it. I can get you half off on a justice of the peace and cake combo pack.”

“I…uh…” Cash swallowed. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

After she bagged our purchases, we were free to escape her friendly questions. I waited until we were back in the Jeep to touch Cash’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I know that had to be uncomfortable for you.” Even in disguise, it was hardly the first time some stranger had assumed I was gay. Anyone with half a functioning brain could probably figure that out, but I bet this was a first for Cash.

“It’s okay.” Both hands on the wheel, he took a deep breath as if trying to convince himself of that. “No big deal.”

“You didn’t have to play along.”

“Eh. If she thinks you’re a broke college kid and I’m the sugar daddy, so much the better. It makes her less likely to look too hard at you.”

“True.” I patted his bicep again, not sure what else to add but watching his face closely.

“You can stop looking at me like I’m an egg about to crack. Honestly, it wasn’t as weird as I would have thought. Probably good practice for me.”

“Practice?” My eyebrows rose so fast they almost hit the roof of the Jeep. Wow. I’d assumed it would be a huge victory if I could get Cash to not hate himself and maybe score some more clandestine kissing. But Cash wanted to practice being in a same-sex couple?

“I can’t exactly unknow it.” His voice was resigned, but the strain there made my chest hurt.

“I’m sorry.” Maybe I shouldn’t have ever offered kissing in the first place. Last night had been incredible, easily the hottest make-out session of my whole life, but I hadn’t wanted to torture the guy. As usual, I hadn’t thought things through enough. I shrank back against the passenger door.

“I’m not blaming you.” He reached over to rub my knee. “I can be mad about how many years I lived in denial and not mad at you. And I can be unsure about my future, but also admit that this truth fits way better than denial ever did.”

“I guess I understand that.” I still hated that I’d made him all conflicted, but his warm grip on my knee was reassuring. “It’s weird for me because I don’t ever remember not knowing. I can’t imagine not being me.”

“Well, who you are is pretty awesome.” He gave me a crooked grin, but his eyes stayed sad and lost. I wanted to hug him in the worst way, but I settled for mimicking him and placing my hand on his solid thigh.

“Who you are is awesome too, Cash.”

“I’m working on getting there.” He nodded solemnly as if he were making me some important promise. “Just…be patient with me?”

“I can do that.” Like last night, the energy between us had shifted, everything becoming sharper, crisper like the universe was telling me to focus because this moment was significant.

Cash wanted me to be patient, which was probably my worst quality, especially when I wasn’t entirely sure what I was being patient for. More kissing? Cash to feel better about liking guys? I really hoped it was both. And if we could speed ahead to the more kissing part, that would be awesome. But if there was anyone worth waiting on, I was sure it was Cash.

Chapter Sixteen

Cash

“Remind me why I let you talk me into a picnic?” I asked Daniel. His idea of getting sandwiches to go had morphed into needing to unearth an old backpack at the cabin and tromping off behind the outbuildings to follow a little rough trail that led through the trees to the creek. And now he was fussing over the picnic blanket being just so on the soft ground near the rocky creek bank. I’d eaten cold rations in some truly awful places, so I was way easier to please, but I let Daniel have his fun of arranging the blanket and food.