Owen jerked back, startled, like he hadn’t realised what he’d been doing. He strode off, hands clutched in his hair, groaning. “I need a shower.”
Jason got to his feet as Alex joined him in the hall.
“What was that about?” Alex asked.
“I seem to be giving your uncle a bit of a headache.”
“No way, nothing fazes him. He’s as level-headed as they come.”
Jason believed that. “Come on.”
He tasked Alex with some food prep, jogged to Carl’s, changed, and returned with a spare set of keys for the Jeep. Alex stopped grinning at tweets, took the keys graciously and migrated to the other side of the room, to the couch, where he and Mary could cuddle in front of Home and Away.
Dinner was simmering by the time Owen returned, barefoot in jeans and a soft-looking T-shirt. Wet hair dripped onto his shoulders and a pearl of water wove down the back of his neck. Quite instinctively, Jason swiped it away with a thumb as he passed.
“Hey, would you have an outdoor broom?”
Owen’s fingers clasped his neck as he lounged against the counter and took in Jason’s tight jeans and tighter T-shirt. Jason figured at Owen’s, he could leave the flannel behind.
“Don’t have one at your place?”
Your place. Not Carl’s. This careful wording around Alex was a good sign, right? Like Owen was willing to play along?
Jason shuffled closer. “Figured it’d be quicker to use yours than to search.”
Owen left the room and came back with a sturdy broom. Jason took it, bounced it on its bristles, and called out to Alex, “Your transportation awaits.”
Alex scrambled to his feet and took the broom with eager hands. “Thank you so, so much, Carl.”
And off he went.
Jason smiled after him, then zipped back to the stovetop to make sure his risotto wasn’t burning. When he looked up again, Owen was still where he’d left him, frowning in the direction his nephew had gone. “This day has been . . .” He gave Jason a perplexed look. “I’ve never had so many questions.”
Jason stirred fresh apricots into the pan. “Alex is a great kid. Adult. New adult.”
“From all your experience together?”
“You can tell these things right away. From the gentle way he speaks, and the way he talked about you.”
“He talked about me?”
“There’s something about his face, certain angles, expressions, where he looks like you, and I figure that comes from being brought up by you, and if he’s been brought up by you, he’s bound to be a good person.”
Jason curled a finger for Owen to taste his risotto. He held out the wooden spoon and Owen eyed him over it. Steam wafted back in Jason’s direction as he repeated, “If he’s been brought up by me, he’s bound to be a good person?”
“You came to my rescue last night. And this morning. And maybe for the rest of the summer until Pete and Nick have tied the knot?”
Owen shook his head, laughing, and held the wooden spoon steady as he cupped his mouth around the end and tried. His eyes shut briefly and his throat jutted. “You can cook.”
“I’ll cook for you every night if . . . you’d like that. That’s not a bribe, officer!”
A lazy yip came from where Mary sat, head on the back of the couch, watching them from between the cushions.
“Mary, please,” Jason said. “I’ll feed you too.”
Owen laughed and made an umming sound in the back of his throat like maybe . . . maybe he was thinking about it? “Go back to explaining Alex’s new transportation.”
“I’m lending him Carl’s Jeep until his is repaired.”
A . . . rather stunned look.
“Alex didn’t tell you his car broke down?”
“He mentioned it. Along with half-price dog food the likes of which the corner store has never had before.”
“Oh, well . . . new promotion.”
“I doubt promotions had anything to do with it.”
Not so much, perhaps. But Alex didn’t have to know that, and Jason hadn’t minded balancing the till himself.
“He didn’t mention the Jeep, though. Or your plan to feed us all.”
“Such a solid guy, that Alex. He can totally keep a secret. Which I hope is something that runs in the family?” Jason gave his most winsome smile.
Owen rolled his eyes and moved to the window, peering into Carl’s yard. Jason shifted alongside, trying to catch a glimpse of movement within the garage, too. They probably weren’t searching for the same something.
A rumbled “I thought your Jeep had a problem?”
“Yes, one the size of”—Jason picked up Owen’s hand, warm and gently calloused like his own. He spread those long, thick fingers apart on the windowsill, one by one, and wriggled more space between the thumb and forefinger. “That. But hairier.”
Owen stared at his splayed fingers, then pressed his head against the glass with a heavy groan that seemed to vibrate along the pane and over Jason’s skin. “I promised myself I’d never . . .”