“Suit yourselves.” He gives a kind smile and heads back to the kitchen.
Alex sits and I walk around, looking at the different decorations and family photos. Their home definitely has a different style than Alex’s but it’s just as warm and cozy. There’s a big brown leather sofa and matching recliner. A gorgeous woven rug with bright colors in an intricate pattern sits in the middle of the living space with a large wooden chest on top of it that serves as a coffee table. The drapes over the large window are olive green. On one wall is a painting of a sunflower field. Above the large flat screen TV is a painting of an elephant.
I spot a photo of a younger Alex on one of the bookshelves. He’s probably in highschool, and it looks like a senior photo. His arms are crossed and he’s leaning against a brick wall with one knee bent and his foot planted on the wall. He’s dressed in snug fitting dark wash jeans and a black button up, untucked, casual but nice, and he looks mischievous and sexy as hell giving that Alex smile.
Shit. I clear my throat and look away like I’m afraid I’m gonna get struck by lightning just for having those thoughts about him, or that he’ll somehow know that’s where my mind has gone. And I’m still trying to figure out why my thoughts even went there. I know Alex is a good looking guy. I’ve known that since we met, but that knowledge never made me look at him or think about him as anything other than a friend until very recently.
I’m saved from the uncomfortable thoughts swirlingaround in my head when I hear the front door open and someone shouting, “We’re here!”
I turn and see Tommy, and who I am assuming is his husband, holding hands as they walk through the door.
Why that makes my heart flutter I don’t know, but maybe it’s the fact that they’re clearly so gone on each other that they held hands just to cross the hall. Kinda adorable.
Speaking of adorable, Tommy’s husband is a little sprite of a man, maybe five foot four, with wavy blond hair that’s short on the sides and longer on top, and pale skin, dressed in white skinny jeans with holes in them and a cropped baby blue T-shirt that has Care Bears on it. He’s young, but then so is Tommy, and they’re looking at each other with so much affection it nearly makes my heart burst.
“Hey, baby brother,” Alex says, standing and giving Tommy a hug. Tommy groans, his arms limp at his sides, clearly not one for physical affection, unless it’s coming from Pierre, it would seem. Pierre giggles as he watches the two brothers.
Alex turns to Pierre next. “Hey, squirt,” he says affectionately, and Pierre presses up on his tip-toes to hug him. “How you doing?”
“I am fine,” Pierre says, his French accent thick, his voice almost angelic. “Don’t worry about me.”
“You guys haven’t met Bentley,” Alex says, ushering me over. “He’s our new neighbor.”
“Hi,” Tommy says, shaking my hand. “I remember you from the bar, but I’m sorry we haven’t gotten around to officially introducing ourselves. We’ve meant to come and say hi and welcome you to the building.”
“It’s not a problem at all,” I assure him. “It’s good to meet you.”
“Bonjour, I’m Pierre,” Pierre says, voice soft, but a sweet smile on his face as I shake his hand. It’s so small it getsswallowed up by mine. He’s really a stunning guy. Very delicate features, big blue eyes and full pink lips, three sparkly earrings in each ear and a belly button ring. He grips Tommy’s hand again and nuzzles his husband’s arm with his nose, and Tommy presses a kiss to his hair.
“Have a seat everyone, dinner’s on the way!” Isabella calls from the kitchen.
We take our seats, Alex and I on one side of the table and Tommy and Pierre on the other as Isabella and Johnny carry steaming dishes into the dining area and set them on the table. It smells amazing, and looks even better. There’s two different kinds of rice, pork, fried potato pancakes that Alex tells me are called llapingachos, and beans. And my mouth waters.
There’s so much joy and laughter at the table that it makes it almost hard to eat the delicious food because I can’t wipe the smile from my face. Isabella and Johnny regale me with tales of Alex and Tommy as kids and all the mischief they got up to. Tommy tells me about the time Alex shot him in the ass with a pellet gun and he couldn’t sit down for a week, and Alex reminds him that he got him back by making Alex do all of his chores for that week, complaining they were too painful.
They ask about my work and Isabella tells me she’ll have to book a massage soon to see how good I am, making me flush.
Johnny tells the story of how he and Isabella met in college, and he knew as soon as he saw her that she was the one, but that it took her a while to catch up.
“I couldn’t stand him,” Isabella says with a wide smile, and we all laugh, even though I’m sure I’m the only one who hasn’t heard the story yet. “Thought he was an arrogant asshole. Which he was.” She winks at her husband and there’s nothing but love in that gaze. “But he was also kindand caring, smart, funny, and my parents didn’t scare him away.”
“I knew what I wanted,” Johnny says, a twinkle in his blue eyes and that same smile on his face. Pierre nuzzles Tommy’s shoulder with his nose, his cheeks pink and a huge smile on his face. I’ve yet to see Tommy smile, but I know that doesn’t mean he isn’t as crazy about his husband as his parents are about each other, or as Pierre is about him. I have also noticed that throughout the meal Tommy hasn’t stopped touching Pierre once. Not in a way that is inappropriate, but just simple things, like stroking his finger down Pierre’s back, or resting his hand on his leg, or even holding his hand while he eats with his other hand, and how content Pierre looks with his husband’s ministrations, almost like Marble when I’m petting her.
Isabella tells me that Alex told her about my Gram passing and me moving out here, and I get the most heartfelt condolences from everyone at the table. When I find out Pierre lost his parents when he was a kid I feel an immediate connection to the little guy. He’s barely said a word the whole meal but his eyes were so soft when I spoke about losing Mom and moving in with Gram, and I know he understands grief like that. I just wish he didn’t. I can tell what a sweetheart of a guy he is and I’ve only known him for a couple of hours.
When I ask what he does he tells me he’s in school and does some cam work on the side, and I feel my cheeks heating, but he seems completely comfortable talking about it, even in front of his in-laws.
“Sorry, I’m making you uncomfortable,” he says.
“No, it’s fine,” I assure him. “I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
I ask him what he’s in school for and he beams and talks about his plans for becoming a veterinarian.
We eat dessert in the living room after the table has been cleared, and Isabella and Johnny offer us wine. I can’t help my gaze from straying to Alex every so often as we visit some more and the room is once again filled with smiles and laughter.
It’s been a long time since I had this, since I had anyone but Peyton.
When we leave it’s almost midnight, and Isabella kisses me on the cheek again. Johnny asks if he can give me a hug and all six feet and two inches of me almost melts when he wraps his strong arms around me, because it’s been a long time since I’ve experienced any sort of fatherly affection, and he’s giving it so freely to someone he barely knows.
