Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“Not like that.” Esteban made a clucking sound that could’ve come from Mami, the same noise she made when people got something simple wrong.
He removed the turkey breast from the pan and made a makeshift “rack” out of leftover celery and some onion chunks. Then he patted it dry with a paper towel and seasoned it, all while considering whether it was a good idea to tell the baby gay that coupledom was all roses, when Esteban knew full well it wasn’t.
“There are advantages to having someone around,” he hedged. “Even though breakups suck.”
“See, that’s what I liked. The idea of having someone around. But Soren said I came on too strong, wanted too much, too soon, and that he wasn’t ready to settle down. But dating around just isn’t that fun to me.”
“Well, when you find it, a relationship does have certain advantages over random hookups for sure.”
“Is that a tactful way of saying regular sex is nice?” Russ laughed, then sighed. “I mean it is, but even that might be more trouble than it’s worth. I went a lot of years alone, especially when deployed, and I dunno, I think I might be the better date than someone like Soren at this point.”
Esteban had to chuckle at that too. “Maybe you need to widen your sample size in that case. Beyond this Soren asshole. You’ve only been out, what a year? That’s nothing.”
“You make yourself sound ancient. And if relationships are so great, why don’t you have one right now? I’d figure you’d have a line of guys wanting to date you.”
“I’ll take that compliment.”
After washing his hands, he gave Russ the pan with the turkey to place in the oven rather than try to maneuver around him. Russ might be new at cooking, but he had good instincts. Russ seemed to know when to hang back and stay out of Esteban’s way and when to fetch what he needed.
“Some days I feel ancient,” Esteban admitted. “Forty next year. It’s part of why I left LA for good. It’s not the kindest place for growing older, and I didn’t want the whole do-I-dye, do-I-wax, do-I-Botox dance for the next thirty years.”
“Don’t dye. Or wax.” Another adorable blush from Russ.
Big men with dimples and a tendency to blush might be a weakness for Esteban. Rebound. Rebound. Rebound. Oh, and he’s just finding his footing in the gay community. That too, he reminded himself. But it was nice, on a deeper level, to hang out with someone who understood the bittersweet roller coaster of emotions from moving on from a prior life.
“So I shouldn’t try to look pretty, even for my hypothetical line of suitors?” He couldn’t resist a little teasing. Not flirting. Teasing. There was a difference. Or so he told himself.
“Maybe in LA. Not here.” Russ had a surprisingly light tone, an ability to tease Esteban back that Esteban hadn’t expected. “In Portland, you might want to add more of a hipster beard and swap the dress shirt for plaid…”
“Never.” Esteban fake shuddered, enjoying their banter far more than he should. “Now, what’s next? Potato peeling?”
“Yeah. That and the other side dishes. Judy’s bringing a marionberry pie for dessert. You don’t have to stay to help with the potatoes, but…” Russ wore the same expression as Esteban’s nephews did when trying to put off bedtime, a mix of hopeful smiles and puppy-dog eyes.
“I might as well.” Esteban pretended to need to think about it. “Better I stay in case you need first aid. Besides, you’re saving me from boredom. I’d probably be watching a replay of the parade or checking my work email.”
“Where do you work?” Russ plopped a bag of Yukon-gold potatoes on the counter along with two peelers, one of which looked like first-world-war-era old. “I mean, not that acting isn’t work. But there can’t be a ton of roles around here.”
“There’s not. Some local theater and commercials mainly.” Esteban grabbed the older peeler, figuring Russ might have better luck with the newer one. “And I’ve done that scene, but honestly, I don’t miss it that much.”
“Not at all?” Russ asked thoughtfully, storm clouds in his eyes like he was thinking about his own situation with leaving the marines.
“Okay. Maybe a little,” he admitted. “But now I’ve got a great job as the special-events coordinator for a literacy nonprofit. All the years working for the catering and party-planning company in LA paid off.”
“That’s cool.” They drifted into companionable silence as they worked on the potatoes. Russ was surprisingly fast given the size of his hands relative to the potatoes.
“So what’s the appetizer?” Esteban asked as they finished, and he rinsed the strainer full of potatoes.
“Appetizer?” Russ shot him an adorably helpless look. “We need one of those?”
“You have a kid coming. Food out early is always a good thing. A little nibble, maybe a non-alcoholic cocktail for your pregnant sister, and no one will notice if the turkey isn’t ready or reheating the sides takes a little longer than expected.”