“There are a couple of shops in Bangor. Sue Flay works at one. I can hook you up.”
Sue Flay?
He chuckled. “She’s a drag queen. I work at the gay bar in Bangor.”
Growing up, something like that would never have existed. A gay bar? This far north in Maine? I had heard rumors about men gathering at a barn for partying, but I assumed it had been an urban legend. Now I wondered if Seamus had been throwing wild orgies back in the day.
“It’s appreciated. I’m sure I’ll find something. There’s a shop on every corner in Cambridge.”
Nick’s leg, rocking back and forth, stopped. I leaned back on the couch, glass in hand, to keep it subtle as I glanced at his face. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something about the smile seemed off. With my arm tucked between us out of sight, I tugged at one of the belt loops in his jeans. It wasn’t a kiss or snuggling next to the campfire, but I hoped he felt the bridge.
“Seamus, want to visit Boston sometime?”
Patrick smirked and pointed at his partner as if he already knew the answer.
“What does the city have that Firefly doesn’t?”
“Museums.” Patrick held up a hand, counting on his fingers. “Bars. Culture. Sports. People. Food.”
“We’ve got food.”
“The Bistro on Maine,” Patrick said. The smile spread across his face as his eyebrows rose, and he gave a sweeping gesture of the hand. “Opened by somebody from…” He made an audible gasp. “Boston!”
Seamus grumbled under his breath before sipping his whisky. Their dynamic cracked me up. Seamus, a man of few words, and his partner, a talkative man quick with a joke. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see the similarities between Seamus and myself. Why offer a lengthy monologue when a grunt would do?
“Nick, we need to discuss something important.” Patrick leaned back in his chair, holding his glass as if he were a supervillain about to release the hounds. “Lacie. I ran into her at the market. I—” He took a sip. “There are no words.”
Nick chuckled. “If that’s not the best description of her. Seamus would love her.”
Seamus huffed while Patrick laughed. Lacie and Seamus locked in a room. I’d pay money to watch that.
“Assless chaps pay his tuition.”
“All chaps are assless. And hey, whatever gets me tips.”
In the flicker of the fire, Seamus and Patrick locked eyes. Knowing their romance almost ended with a gunshot, I couldn’t help but admire them. Fraught with complications, they should have walked away from one another. Patrick expanded his sexuality for this stoic hermit. Seamus let this goofball invade his life. It shouldn’t work, and yet it did.
I feared dinner would be filled with asinine small talk. Patrick made sure it was anything but. They knew about my first tattoo. Nick talked about living with Lacie’s chaos. Whenever silence threatened to interrupt our casserole, Patrick jumped in and fended it off like an expert swordsman. Despite the laughs and head shaking at dirty jokes, staring across the table, Nick seemed withdrawn.
“What made you come back?” I surprised myself as the words slipped out.
We retreated outside, coffee cups filled with hot cocoa. While Patrick entertained, Seamus built a fire like an expert. When he broke out the flint, I knew he was showing off. I wonder if he and Pops had exchanges like this, quiet competitions showing off their survival skills.
In the warm orange light dancing across his face, the stare…thestare toward Seamus said everything. It radiated warmth even the fire would envy. To my right, Nick sat in his Adirondack chair, both hands clutching his mug of cocoa. When he caught me staring, he’d flash a smile. He should be in his element amongst friends, and yet, he didn’t have the same carefree gleam he had in the woods.
“I owed him.”
Seamus huffed.
“It’s true,” Patrick snapped. “It all changed with a dance.”
“Duke can do that.”
I didn’t follow the inside joke between them. I didn’t need to. The moment Patrick mentioned the dance, Seamus’s steely exterior melted away. When I looked to my side, even Nick had a soft smile. It was hard to not admire these two and their oddities. On paper, everything about their relationship should be filled with red flags. In practice, they exchanged tenderness without hesitation.
Patrick shot out of his chair, holding up his cup. “I think it’s time to get more cocoa. Anybody else?” I offered Patrick my empty mug. Nick inspected his before shaking his head. “Seamus?”
His partner shook his head.
