“Bad,” Ellie whispered.
Dad was hot-tempered, always flying off the handle before he simmered down enough to talk. I just had to wait. Besides, school and work came first. It had to. “I’ll let him cool off. Maybe a day or two. I’m not gonna call, and I won’t answer if he calls me.”
“Good thinking,” she said. “You’ll work through everything over Christmas. Face-to-face will be easier.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“I’m so sorry, Sawyer. It shouldn’t matter.”
“I always knew it would.”
Her voice choked off in a sob.
“Hey, El. Let him cool off before we start catastrophizing. My entire life, I knew he’d have trouble with this, so I’m prepared. I’ve had this fight with him in my head a thousand times already.”
“You’re gay, not a terrorist, for fuck’s sake.” I swore she stomped her foot, which made me chuckle.
“It’s gonna be okay, Ellie. It’ll be okay.”
It wasn’t okay.
Four days later and it still wasn’t okay.
Ellie warned me off coming home for Christmas entirely but wouldn’t give me any more details on what Dad was saying. “You’re better off not knowing” was her reply.
I’d asked around about a place to stay. No luck so far, but I’d figure something out.
I didn’t want to hurt Mom, so I had to be careful how I handled the conversation I didn’t want to have. And I had to lead, not allow Dad to put his thumb on me.
But not this second. Right now I had a very muscular gent expecting me for a bit of playtime and his supper, and I didn’t like to keep him waiting.
It was dusk and streetlights were just popping on, giving a soft glow in the damp, cold air. I stopped in front of a three-story Craftsman with a brick and wood exterior that exuded tons of charm.
Or at least it could.
It was rundown. Well-loved, if I were being diplomatic. A few repairs and a paint job would do wonders for curb appeal. But I wasn’t there to fix the house.
The attic was lit up, so I rang the doorbell. I heard Murphy before I saw him.
The front door swung open, revealing Gregg and his warm smile. “Hey, Sawyer. I keep telling you to use your key.”
“I don’t want you thinking I’m breaking in.”
“Murph’s reaction will always clue me in.” Gregg gave me a wink as the bullmastiff shouldered past him to get to me. I cupped his colossal head and gave him the scratches he loved, right behind his ears.
“Hey, champ,” I said. “You warn your dad when I’m here?”
Murphy looked up at me as if he knew exactly what I was saying. He was such a smart dog.
Gregg pulled Murphy’s leash off the hook and passed it to me before Murphy could slip his bulky body out the front door. “He’s eager. He’s been raring to go since I got home after lunch. I messed up his entire schedule.”
I hooked Murphy up before facing Gregg. “He’s just playin’ ya.”
“Thought he could get four constitutionals in rather than three, I suppose.” Then Gregg winked at me.
And I had to escape.
The guy was sexy as sin, and he didn’t even know it. And when he winked at me like that, I got weak in the knees.
“We’ll be back in twenty minutes,” I said as I led Murphy down the stairs, grabbing the loop on the leash near his collar. On our first walk together, I’d missed that bit and ended up with a face full of grass when he chased after a bunny.
“Have fun, you two.” Gregg waved, and I couldn’t help gazing back.
Warm light of the entryway wreathed him, revealing his slim build. The T-shirt he wore under his cardigan was tight, showing off his toned chest underneath. My attention dragged down his long legs, one crossed over the other, to land on bare feet.
I’d been walking Murphy since September, but I only saw Gregg on the weekends. Sometimes, if a hockey game was on, he’d invite me to watch. Probably because I peeked at the TV to check the score.
But I was there for Murphy. I was his dog walker, his play pal. And from time to time, as we played tug-of-war on the living room rug, Gregg slipped around the corner, leaned against the nearest wall, and watched us interact as if it was the cutest thing ever.
He clearly loved the mutt.
I gave Gregg a final wave, then took off down the sidewalk with Murphy by my side, thankful for the crisp air. It cooled my cheeks and blew away the heat spreading down my collar.
After I heard the door snick shut, I told Murph, “Your dad doesn’t understand how sexy he is. Clueless. And if he had an inkling, he’d be back on the market again. When he dips his toe in the pool, every single woman fifty and under will swipe right.”
Murphy looked up at me before he turned the corner, and we headed toward the park.
Gregg was divorced and had a daughter. She was older than me, but Gregg didn’t look old enough for that. He had a little salt growing in at his temples, but the rest of his hair was dark blond. A few lines around his eyes from smiling a lot, too. Other than that, I saw no signs of aging. Aside from the reading glasses he pulled on and off.
It was the daughter in grad school that threw me. The math and what my eyes told me didn’t add up.
And Gregg was straight, so there was no point in wondering shit like this. It didn’t matter if he were fifty years older than me because I was his dog walker, not his lover.
“I’m hopeless, Murph. Always drawn to the straight ones. The older ones. Or maybe it’s the quiet ones? ’Cause he’s quiet. Solid. Calm. I think I like that. Why can’t I be satisfied with the twinks lined up at my bar who flirt shamelessly? Life would be a hell of a lot easier.”
Murphy looked at me as I performed mental gymnastics.
I groaned. “None of that’s important. I gotta find a believable excuse for not going home for Christmas that Mom will buy. I won’t hurt her, so I can’t daydream about a man I’ll never have a chance at.”
My phone pinged with a notification about a study group that was meeting at eight. I couldn’t miss that because I had to pass Jenkins’ final.
And then another ping.
Dad: Don’t bother coming home for Christmas.
Followed by another message.
Mom: Give your father time. He’ll come around.
Yeah, right.
As I dried Murphy’s paws, clanking came from the kitchen. I slipped off my shoes so I wouldn’t track dirt in and went about my usual routine.
“Did we go far enough to make you hungry?” I asked, and Murphy gazed up at me with sad eyes. Or maybe he read my worry. It didn’t really matter. Murphy needed his supper, I had to find a place to stay, and somehow I had to compartmentalize all this shit so I could pass this semester. That was the priority.
I carried Murphy’s bowl to the faucet, took care not to spill on my way back to his elevated feeder, and then watched him chow down on his kibble, keeping my back to Gregg as I pushed down my fears.
“Everything okay?” Gregg asked.
I spun to face him. He wore a navy chef’s apron with red pinstripes traveling its length, and he wiped his hands on a tea towel while something delicious simmered in a pan behind him.