“Why did I have to learn my mother had a boyfriend through Damon?”
“That kid always had a big mouth,” she grumbled while storming past where we stood in the foyer. “Cooper, darling, would you like some freshly made iced tea?” The tone of her voice completely altered as she addressed me.
I cut my eyes to Ricky before saying, “That would be great. Thank you.” He narrowed his gaze when I shrugged and followed her into the kitchen.
The house was as cozy and welcoming inside as it was out. Although what I had seen of the foyer and living room revealed her tastes were traditional… the kitchen was spectacular. A professional chef’s dream come true with state-of-the-art stainless appliances mixed with honey-toned woods and cream granite. It all looked brand new and never used.
Windows covering the entire back wall led to a screened-in porch. From there, you could see a stunning view of the tree-lined property and slate patio. Different from Ricky’s modern fortress but no less tasteful.
The way she busied herself, grabbing drinks and plating cheese, grapes, nuts, and crackers, you’d never know she had just sparred with her son. As she placed it all on the large butcher block island, she pointed to a high-backed wooden stool. “Sit, Cooper. Let’s get to know each other.”
Ricky had since walked into the kitchen and sulkily leaned against the counter. Meanwhile, Cindy seemed completely unfazed over her son’s brooding and rested her elbows on the island across from me with a pretty smile.
“How do you know my Ricky?”
“Cooper is Rebecca’s brother,” he said a bit deceivingly.
“Really?” Slicing her eyes toward me, she asked, “How is my sweetheart, Rebecca?”
“She’s great. Just had her second child… a girl.”
“That’s lovely.” Cutting back to the chase, she then asked, “So you’re just friends then?”
He nodded, but when he saw my annoyed expression added, “We’re together. Almost two months.”
“Two months?” Her eyes widened, and if possible her smile grew even more. That tidbit propelled her to catapult around the wooden barrier between us and throw her arms around me for a second introduction. “Well, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you, Cooper!”
“Same here.” I hugged her back and grinned as Ricky’s gaze flicked up toward the ceiling.
I loved her.
I loved everything about Cindy Burrows.
Once Ricky finally yanked the stick out of his ass, we spent hours chatting on the screened-in porch. Cindy knew just how to handle her son by pulling out photo albums scanning Ricky’s growth, telling stories with the sole purpose of embarrassing him, and making it a point to ask me about my family and life.
I loved being there.
But after Cindy received a call on her cell and excused herself, upon her return the time eventually came for Ricky to bring up John. “What’s that dude’s story?”
“Your aunt Mindy had a friend who met a nice man on an online dating site. So I joined.”
“How well do they screen their members?” Ricky asked.
“He’s not a serial killer, Ricky.” She rolled her eyes the same way her son often did. “We met at a coffee shop in broad daylight and instantly hit it off.” While studying his scowl, she paused before saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I planned to soon, I promise. But I knew just how you’d react, and you have to admit I wasn’t off the mark.” Sliding from her chair, she grabbed the pitcher and refilled my iced tea before casually admitting, “He makes me feel young.” Ignoring her son’s groan, she added, “And he’s a very nice man.”
“Mom, there are nice men in Florida… tons of them. I hate you being here all alone in this big house while I’m worrying that someone will try to take advantage of you.”
Leaning closer, she placed a hand on her son’s. “Ricky, John Miller owns Miller Technologies.” At both of our shocked expressions, she nodded. “Yeah. He doesn’t need my money.” Shit, that man was loaded. I owned a few of his gadgets myself.
Her attention focused on the glass she held as her cheeks tinged a soft pink. When she lifted her gaze, she added softly, “I love him. He loves me. I haven’t been this happy since your father was alive.” That time, when she reached across the space, she gripped his hand in hers. “I’m happy again.”
When he remained silent, I squeezed his knee, hoping to prompt him to speak. He didn’t at first, but something seemed to soften his ire when he said, “I’m sorry.”
“For?” His brows rising forced her to wave a hand. “Specifics, please.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. What exactly are you sorry for, Ricky?”
I had to suppress a smile. It seemed Ricky was a man of few words in any difficult situation.
“I’ll help you,” she went on to say as the corners of her eyes crinkled and a sly smile spread across her lips. “I accept your apology for being a complete and total asshole.”
“Whatever.” Releasing her hand, he huffed. “Your friend is lucky that I wasn’t armed.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ricky
My mom wasn’t surprised when I wanted to order in dinner from my favorite restaurant. Never the happy homemaker type, her forte wasn’t whipping up a four-course meal, as Cooper’s mom so easily could. But I never felt slighted growing up. Mom’s twin, Aunt Mindy, had gotten the domestic gene, and since we spent every holiday and special occasion together, I benefited greatly.
But Mom, well, she could throw a mean party. She loved appetizers and finger foods and would think nothing of catering a Friday-night hangout with my friends from our favorite sushi restaurant. Give teenagers a buffet of gourmet munchies and turn a blind eye when they indulged in a beer—or five—and that made her very popular among them.
The drinking had been allowed only once we turned eighteen. Her condition was that no one drove home and had to stay over. She claimed she’d rather have us all where she could keep an eye on us than to be gallivanting all over town. Personally, I knew she loved when the house was filled with people.
My friends never minded and shamelessly allowed her to spoil them as well. That meant we all woke to more of the royal treatment the next morning—specifically, a hired chef whipping up custom omelets at my mom’s rarely used Viking stove. And it had become a common occurrence when she couldn’t get rid of my friends for weekends at a time. Club Burrows was what my home came to be called.
It was a very confusing time for me. I knew I was gay, and I suspected she knew I was, but none of my friends did. When I came out to her, I made her promise to act no differently among them and loved that she always respected my wishes. My friends and I had known each other most of our lives, and our connections went beyond the baseball teams and pickup football games that had been a major part of our interactions. And as close as we were, some understood better than others.
That had been my point when I told Cooper coming out was a very personal thing. Yes, I’d done so to the most important person in my life at an early age, but it had taken years to reveal my true self to anyone else. Even my aunt and her family had no idea until I came home from college and had already experienced my first homosexually incited heartbreak.