Extraits

“You know, you might actually be almost ready,” Esteban remarked as they set aside a green-bean dish to keep warm. “Maybe I should—”

Right as he was about to suggest he head back to his place, the doorbell chimed.

“They’re early.” Russ sounded dire, like an enemy force was about to invade.

“You’ll do just fine.” Esteban patted him on his meaty biceps. “I’ll just slip out as you let them in—you can just say I was looking for the cat. That way you can claim all the cooking glory for yourself.”

Leaving through the front door was his only option. Their minuscule back patios had six-foot fences that Esteban had zero intention of scaling.

“You could stay,” Russ suggested, tone almost hopeful, as Esteban followed him toward the door.

“Nah.” Despite having some interest in how the feast went over, Esteban wasn’t about to barge into another family’s celebration. “Me and the cats have a date with some steak.”

He realized at the last second that he was still wearing his apron, a dead giveaway that he’d been helping, and he hung back to slip it off as Russ opened the door to admit a trio of adults and a cute little toddler in a blue sweater.

“Russ!” A very tall, very pregnant woman engulfed the big guy in a hug. But right as Esteban was about to slip away, she locked her gaze on him. “Oh! And this must be the new guy! We’re so delighted to meet you.”

“Yes, we’re so happy for Russ,” an older, elegant woman with cropped hair added.

Russ looked utterly miserable standing behind the women, expression stricken, like Esteban’s nephews after hearing one too many siguanaba monster stories.

Hell. Russ apparently hadn’t told them about the breakup. And now he had to come clean, which would undoubtedly cast a shadow over the gathering and make Russ’s predicament the center of attention. That had to be the last thing Russ wanted.

Esteban’s stomach churned unhappily in sympathy. If Esteban had figured out one thing about Russ in their time in the kitchen, it was that he was way more comfortable talking about others than himself. He wished there was some way to spare Russ the humiliation.

Wait. They don’t even know his name. Wasn’t that what Russ had said about his ex?

Esteban tried to catch Russ’s eyes. Should I pretend? Want me to?

He’d never had a blockbuster role, but Esteban wasn’t some scenery chewer either. He could still act, spare a nice guy a little awkwardness, and maybe ease his holiday burden. That earlier moment when Russ had talked about leaving the marines still lingered in Esteban’s brain. He understood all too well that change was hard. And Russ had surely been through enough of it.

Esteban’s unspoken question seemed to hang between them for an eternity. Russ’s nose wrinkled as his mouth twisted. Then he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Russ, aren’t you going to introduce us to your boyfriend?” the tall woman, who had to be Judy, prompted while her husband juggled both a pie and the toddler.

“This is…uh…” Russ looked like he’d rather be auditioning for a hemorrhoid cream ad rather than deal with his family. He was back to the dejected guy he’d been when Esteban had met up with him at the dumpster. And that just wouldn’t do.

“Esteban. Or you can just call me the boyfriend. I’m easy.” With a wink, he stuck out a hand for Judy. He could do this, could act the part, and remove that air of failure from Russ’s otherwise impressive self.

Russ’s jaw had fallen open wide enough to land a 747. “Yeah…”