Jason yelped at exactly where her thoughts had gone. “Look, I can’t tell you much. He’s, ah, wanting to tell his family first. Before the rumour mill gets started, y’know?”
“What about your family?”
“Oh, well. Um. We’re going to invite both our parents to dinner sometime this week and tell everyone at the same time.”
Cora glanced from him to Owen and back again, eyes narrowed in suspicion. And she was entirely wrong, of course, but . . . Owen might be the best option? Oh God, he’d been so magnanimous about this whole thing so far, would he . . .
Probably not. Surely that went too far, especially since he had an actual reputation to uphold around town.
Some Grindr random would be a better option. His stomach gave a sickly twist. He’d never been with a man, never so much as flirted with one. He wasn’t sure he wanted to try acting close to a guy he’d never met, who might expect things in return.
He really had got himself into a pickle now.
There was, of course, the option of admitting he’d made the whole thing up, but . . . that made the twisting worse.
He’d just have to figure it out. Maybe Owen might know someone decent who was talented at fakery?
“Can I come?”
Jason pried his gaze off Owen and back to a smirking Cora.
“Come?”
“For the boyfriend unveiling.”
“Ahhh.” Owen approached with his donuts and a rather bemused expression. He raised a brow, awaiting what Jason would get himself into next. Good God, Owen had called it. He was trouble all right.
Jason nodded. Best he said nothing more on the boyfriend subject.
Cora clapped her hands, then stole the magazine back. “Hey, Owen?” she asked slyly. “What’s your star sign?”
Owen set the donuts on the counter and fished out his wallet. “Libra. And I’ve never been so curious to have my horoscope read out to me.”
He was smirking, and it was taking the piss out of Jason, but Jason couldn’t scowl without his lips quirking. “I know what Libra’s says.”
Owen rested a hip at the counter and his twinkling eyes hit Jason’s, daring him to go on.
“Libra. Someone absolutely fascinating has walked into your life and quite possibly turned it upside down, and though the temptation is there to make right all his messes, there’s more adventure in letting them go.”
Cora looked up, shaking her head. “Actually it suggests Libra be brave and not fear history repeating itself. ‘This new chapter in your life, with much patience, might just have a most desired ending’.”
Owen’s smile stiffened, and he handed over his cash robotically. “Best not read too much into those.”
Jason gripped the notes hard and watched Owen truck his purchases out of the store. What?
A little ache rose and fell. He wanted to chase after him, ask follow-up questions. Was he okay?
Jason caught Cora studying him, shaking her head in amusement. Gosh, she was going to be disappointed. Quickly, he swivelled the magazine around. “Let’s read yours.”
“Nope, can’t actually hang today. I’m seeing Craig.”
Craig rang a faint bell. Widower, accountant, two kids. “Fun date?”
“He wants to ask me something. Sounded serious!”
She rolled the magazine and tucked it under her arm, then raised her hand.
For a moment, Jason stared at her fingers. Then he snapped his own hand up and pressed their palms together in a wave, just like he’d practiced with Carl, but unlike anything he’d practiced with Carl. Little zings of knowing . . . Wondering what Cora thought every time she’d bid his brother goodbye like this . . .
His voice got croaky. “’Til the unveiling then.”
Chapter Six
The whole drive home, and throughout dinner—which Jason had gone ahead and cooked at Owen’s again. Seriously, it was easier to cook for two, the company was superior, and splashing Owen with soapy suds during clean-up made for some excellent entertainment. He really had quite the unfathomable stare, dark pools that made you feel naughty indeed, and want to immediately chirp out an apology before doing it all over again.
Anyway, throughout all this Owen kept giving him this other look. Like he was waiting for—and fearing—the next outrageous thing Jason might do. The look was measuring, and he grimaced, as if afraid what the results might be.
Jason wanted to assure him he’d keep a steady head from here on out. No more wild lies that made this whole mess messier. But Mary was watching them with big eyes from the couch, and she’d yip for sure.
Owen looked at him expectantly.
Jason dried his hands on his T-shirt. The small step over to Owen and his shoulder-draped tea towel suddenly felt too nerve wrecking. Because . . . because they’d chattered about non-consequential things all evening, but Owen had been there today. He’d seen the wreck with Pete and then the punch that came with seeing his mother. Owen knew more than anyone else in this town. And, for that matter, in his entire life. A man he’d known only a couple of days.