I trust them.
“There’s this guy,” Noah said quietly.
In perfect unison, Mark and Liam both went utterly still.
“Oh my god,” Mark whispered.
“Oh myGOD,” Liam gasped.
“Why does Elsie call him bakery man?”
“Is he cute?”
Noah lifted a hand. “Will you two just stop? It’s nothing. He’s… helping. At the community center.”
Liam leaned closer. “And?”
“And he’s nice,” Noah said. “Quiet. Sarcastic. Smart. Warm.”
Mark sighed dreamily. “A man with layers. Ilovea lasagna.”
“Mark, please,” Noah said.
“Tell us his name,” Liam demanded.
“No.”
“Is he cute?” Mark pressed.
Noah stared at the potato masher in his hand. “Yes.”
“Hair?” Liam asked.
“Dark. Kinda neat. So’s his beard.”
“Eyes?”
“Brown. A warm brown,” Noah said helplessly. “Hazel, depending on the light.”
Mark clasped his chest. “Flannel-wearing carpenter tragically falls for color-shifting bakery man?—”
“He’s not—” Noah stopped. “He’s Aileen’s brother.”
Both husbands froze.
“Oh,” Mark breathed.
“Ohhh,” Liam whispered, eyes wide.
Noah scowled. “Don’t make that sound.”
“That sound,” Mark said, pointing dramatically, “means destiny.”
“That sound,” Liam added, nodding vigorously, “means you have the town’s full blessing.”
Noah blinked. “What? Why?”
Mark stared at him as if he’d missed something obvious. “Aileen Winters is basically Mapleford’s Patron Saint of Good Decisions. If her brother is interested in you?—”
