“Holy wow!” he exclaims, spinning in the open space. “This is…it belongs in a magazine.”
I scrunch my nose at the thought. “It’s meant to be lived in, not to look perfect for some photograph.”
He throws himself down onto one of the couches, enveloped by the soft, sturdy cushions. “It’s both, baby.” Looking around, he points to the steps off to the side. “Where do those go?”
I smile, walking over to him, tousling his hair. “That leads down to a small boathouse and a scruffy little boat, for which I have an inordinate amount of affection.”
“How often do you get out on the water?” he asks, leaning into my touch like a needy cat.
“As often as I can. At least once or twice a month.”
He grabs my hand and tugs me down next to him, then short-circuits my brain by nipping my earlobe. “Do you take the boat up to Ski Shores?”
“Uhhh…sometimes. I tend to prefer grilling out here,” I say, pointing at the covered high-end outdoor kitchen area tucked in against the back wall.
He checks it out and looks back up at me, his lips tilted in an adorable smirk. “It’ssocozy. You ever invite guys out here?”
I narrow my eyes at his teasing tone and kiss the smirk from his face. “There’s only one guy I’ve ever wanted to share this space with.”
Ro kisses me back, then snuggles into my chest, grinning broadly.
I wrap my arms around him and continue. “I’d like to get the team out here, though. Maybe for poker night. I even have a great setup for anyone who would want to stay over. But, like I said, I get weird about having people come out to my house.”
“Well, you shouldn’t. The view is stunning, and the architecture is beautiful. It doesn’t dominate the landscape, it nestles in. It’s modern, but the materials you used are so warm and inviting.”
I smile and scuff my shoe along the cedar decking, unreasonably pleased at his approval. My phone buzzes and I lean to the side, pulling it from my pocket. My father’s name appears on the notification screen and the sappy grin slides off my face.
I’ve put him off for days.
“It’s my dad. I’d better take this, or he’ll keep messaging me.”
“Of course, take it. It’s family.”
I shoot Ro an apologetic look and make to move away from him, but he shakes his head and eases onto my lap with a sweet smile. He’s not going anywhere. Nor should he, I decide.
I put the phone on speaker. “Hey, Dad. How’re you doing?”
“Where have you been?” he asks, ignoring my question, his tone sharp as a razor blade.
Ro’s eyebrow lifts and he rubs my arm.Sorry, he mouths. My breath catches.
“Been busy with different projects. Was going to call you tonight.”
“Sure you were. My sciatica has flared up again and my knee now catches every time I try to do anything remotely physical. Just in case you care about such things.”
I nod as empathetically as I can, tightening my grip around Ro. He tucks his face under my chin, his affection a shield against my father’s foul mood.
To be clear, I hate that my father is in pain. When he complains about his sciatica, he never talks about the fact that he’s such a hateful person that he has difficulty getting a physical therapist to stay for more than one or two sessions.
He also never just gets to the point. “Idocare, Dad. What can I help you with?”
“Oh, sorry, Chunk. Am I interrupting something more important than your own father?”
Ronan pulls back, his brows stitched together. “Chunk?”he mouths. I shake my head again. Absolutely not worth going there.
“I do have somebody over, but you know that I am always happy to take your call.”
“I guess I should be grateful, then, that you answered the phone. Who is it? One of your little friends from that queer gym you insist on going to? I don’t understand it. You sell a profitable business, but then drive all the way over to East Austin to volunteer those same services for free.”
