Flynn hid the bitter twist of his mouth in his mug. The car was outside. He ran his own business, so if he wanted to be late, he could.
“He’s nearly here,” Nate said. There was a pause that condensed twenty years of old resentments and older secrets into an awkward shuffle of avoided eye contact. It was Nate who broke it. “Look, this whole bad-boyfriend plan… maybe we should talk about it?”
“Tonight?”
Nate laughed. “Rehearsal dinner, remember?” he said. “Then the wedding. Maybe in a couple of days?”
Flynn finished his coffee and put it down. The odd, candy-floss fluffiness that had stuffed his chest since he woke up finally started to melt. It left a sour stickiness behind.
“Katie and Bradley,” he said. “Give them my best. They were a cute couple.”
Nate nodded. “I will.”
Flynn was relieved when the brash blare of the car horn outside interrupted them. Nate glanced around and twitched like he’d forgotten Max was on the way.
“I better go.” He stepped forward and leaned in for a quick, dry kiss. “Soon as this wedding is in the bag, we can talk.”
Flynn clenched his jaw against the urge to kiss him back, to bruise his lips and mark his neck so that when he went outside, Max would know exactly why they’d kept him waiting. Instead he slouched where he stood and listened to the front door slam and the rev of the engine idling outside.
It didn’t take long—Max obviously wasn’t interested in wasting any time—and Flynn was left alone with Teddy’s check and his own thoughts. They weren’t the best company.
When he’d left Ceremony twenty years earlier, he swore he’d never come back. When he came back, he swore he wasn’t going to stay. His leg was good enough for rescue work. He could probably pass the physical to get reinstated in the service. If he wanted.
Even if he didn’t, fifty thousand was a lot of money to do exactly what he always said he would—leave. What did he have here after all? A view, a bad reputation, and a fake boyfriend who was happy enough to fuck him but didn’t want to rock his comfortable boat.
He tossed the dregs of his coffee into the sink and flicked the tap on to wash it away. The sour taste in the back of his throat had spoiled the cup. In a couple of days, Flynn was going to get ditched, Nate would go back to his nice, unruffled life, and Teddy St. John would get the stand-in son he always wanted.
Money in his pocket or not, that didn’t seem entirely fair to Flynn.
