Jason gave him double thumbs up, but his stomach took a wee dive to his groin. Oh God, he was going to meet parents. The last time he’d done that had been with Caroline’s and that had been awkward at best. Sure, this was fake, but his curiosity wasn’t, and none of his enjoyment of the evening would be either.
He’d have to make something spectacular. A wee bit exotic. Something that would leave an impression. Both families would have questions, of course, and he and Owen should be prepared to answer them all.
Owen laughed and said, “You don’t need to bring anything—”
Within the second, Jason had the phone out of Owen’s hand and pressed to his ear. “Hello, the secret boyfriend here. Yes, Carl. That’s me. Mrs Stirling— . . . Renee, of course. There is something you could bring . . .”
Two minutes later, Jason ended the call, chuckling. “Nice parents.”
Owen had taken a post against the doorframe, arms folded, to watch Jason talk. Now he pushed off the wall, took his phone from Jason’s hand and tucked it into a back pocket. “My photo album?”
Jason felt that stare in his stomach, which . . . was still lodged in his groin. And, um, it didn’t have to move anytime soon. “I had to establish credibility. I’m head over heels for you, remember?”
Somehow, he made it through the night without bolting out of the guest bed and into Owen’s. Having him just one wall over helped, but not nearly enough for a good night’s rest.
Once they were up, though, the time flew by; they were soon driving into town, listening to the weather channel. It looked okay outside now, splotches of blue in the sky at least, but around midnight a cyclone was expected to whip through.
“Hold it,” Jason said, slapping a hand to Owen’s T-shirt sleeve. “Why aren’t you in uniform? Is it casual day at the station?”
“No casual day.” Owen navigated an intersection. “I’m not on shift today.”
“What?”
“We work on a revolving roster. I have today off.”
Jason glanced at the dashboard clock. “Why aren’t you sleeping in?”
“Alex still has your Jeep.”
“It’s . . . not raining. I could’ve walked.”
Owen side-eyed him. “This is something I would do for my boyfriend.”
Jason fuzzed with warmth, and he had a sudden need to retie a loose shoelace. He did so, chuckling. “How on earth are you still single?”
When he looked over, Owen was tapping a silent beat on the steering wheel, smiling out into the distance.
Jason’s phone buzzed. A reminder. “Guttering starts at nine this morning.”
“Thank you for taking care of that. Gives me time to shop for our dinner.”
“I know. Big list. I just . . . want tonight to be perfect? The last time I met parents . . .”
“The last time, what?” Owen asked.
Jason flushed and gave him a fleeting glance. “Nothing terrible, just they didn’t think I was good enough. It was kind of hard to shake.”
“You know it doesn’t matter what my parents think, right?”
“It’s all fake, sure, but—”
“That’s not what I meant.” Owen stopped the car just outside the convenience store, engine running. “Jason, look at me.”
Owen rested one hand on the wheel, the other on his thigh, and fixed dark eyes on Jason’s. “What my parents—what anyone—thought of my boyfriend wouldn’t matter. If I reckon he’s good enough, that’s all that matters. And Jason?”
“Owen?”
“As my boyfriend, you’re frighteningly wonderful.”
Frighteningly wonderful. “I wish the frightening part would go away.”
“Believe me, so do I.”
Jason tossed him a grin. He sure had caught them both up in a web of lies. Whatever happened, he would not let Owen be hurt by them. He would absolutely play the bad guy when it came time to break up. And he’d make sure to frame Owen as the most desirable gay man in Tasmania.
Although, to be fair, he was pretty much there already. Calendar Cop looks, protective, strong, decent . . . would even shop for hard-to-come-by, quite expensive ingredients on his day off. Oh—“Do you want to take my card?”
Groaning, “God, yes.”
Jason fished it out of his wallet, and Owen pushed it all back to him. “Out of the car, sweetheart.”
A sigh. “I wish I didn’t have to work. I’d much rather spend the day with you.”
“What about all our town folk with donut needs?”
“Fine. I’ll spend the day inside creaming my pants instead.”
Owen leaned over, air waking over Jason with a shiver, and opened his door.
Jason reluctantly hopped out and ducked his head back inside. “Pick me up early?”
“Sure.”
Jason winked. “Then thinking cap on, cupid—we need a meet cute. And some practice at public affection.”
Jason dropped the horoscopes he’d been reading and rounded the counter, batting his loose flannel out of the way, as Pete stumbled into the store near closing time. “Mate, what happened?”
Pete lifted warm, tired eyes and threw his arms around Jason’s chest. He looked wrecked. Ginger hair in all directions, bags under his eyes. “I haven’t slept in days. Poor Nick came down with something and it hasn’t cleared up yet. I need to take care of him. We’ll have to shift the stag night.”