Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“Owen deserves to be happy . . . Jason.”
He sank his chin to his chest. She was right, but it . . . his heart . . .
She leaned forward and looked at him sternly. “Hayden would not be my first choice for that.”
Jason snapped his head up.
Mary’s ears pricked and she trotted away from them toward the doors, and Owen. Yikes, Owen! Jason flustered like he were about to be caught in some illicit act, and on instinct he thrust himself into the nearby closet.
Through the door, he heard Jane laughing and pictured her, quite rightly, shaking her head. “What on earth are you doing?”
Fair question. He sagged against a shelf of paper. “Could you distract him for five minutes while I figure it all out? Then set me loose?”
She left him with sage advice. “Don’t hide longer than you have to.”
Her footsteps retreated, and he let out a long breath. The last time he’d been in this closet he’d been tucked against Owen, admitting the truth about who he really was. Now he was here again, fretting how to tell him even deeper truths.
He would just have to . . . ask. And hope.
Oh, God. Would that be enough? Didn’t he need some kind of romantic gesture?
His phone shrilled loudly in the quiet space and he fumbled in his urgency to deal with the sound. His finger swiped, answering the call. Not exactly his intention, but—“Carl? Just a quick call. We’re moving toasts to before the main course. Mum thought it would be better.”
Toasts?
“You’ll be up first.”
Toasts?
He shut his eyes and swallowed a groan. He whispered “That’s perfect” into the phone and hung up.
What on earth could he—
He straightened. Maybe this could . . . be his gesture to Owen? It could be a toast to Pete and Nick on the surface, but the subtext . . . if he were clever, Owen would know he was really talking to him. All without giving himself away to the wedding party! Yes. A win-win by all accounts, and then after his toast, Owen would . . .
Either sweep him into his arms.
Or march him directly to Break-up Beach.
Light flooded into the closet. “Thanks, Jane—”
Not Jane. That large frame could only belong to Mr July. Jason lounged nonchalantly against the shelves. “Fancy seeing you here.”
An impressively arched brow.
He patted a shelf beside him. “Took a moment to reminisce.”
Wow, Owen could really hold an expression.
“Would you like to reminisce with me?”
“Beach. Now.”
Jason’s heart jumped into his throat; he stormed past and out of the closet. “Can’t! I just learned I have a toast to write and practice for the rehearsal dinner.”
“I’ll help you, and then—”
“And then I’ll have to help Pete. Yes, he’ll need me to make sure everyone gets to the right restaurant and on time. Oh, damn, that puts a dent in our day off together. I guess I’ll have to make it up to you tomorrow.” He charged ahead, past Jane shaking her head, and out into the foyer. “I’ll head to the store.”
A vexed laugh.
“Meet you tonight!” Jason didn’t look back.
He did, in fact, have to go home and change before dinner. Alex wasn’t supposed to be working the shift, but when he’d learned Jason and Owen would be there, he’d called in to see if they needed any extra help. Someone had just called in sick, and so Alex drove Jason past Owen’s for his suit—Owen absent—and they headed to Trinity together.
“You’re sure about working tonight?”
Alex nodded. He seemed . . . a little out of spirits? “You and uncle Owen will be there so it’ll be better than other nights. And paid, so.”
Jason side-eyed him. “Anything else going on, Alex?”
Alex banged his head against the back of his seat. “I just left Mum a note. Saying . . . everything. And that I can crash elsewhere after work tonight, if . . .”
“You can always stay with us.”
“She’ll be reading it when she comes home. Any minute now.”
“Nerve wrecking.”
A nod. “I messaged Gramps and Grandma, too. Because I’m crazy apparently. But also, I just can’t have it on my chest anymore?”
“Did you tell Owen that you’d tell them? He’d want to be there for you.”
“I told him. He . . . said I was doing the courageous thing and he wished others could be so brave—be honest, no matter the consequences. He said he just wants to settle down for real. Sounded kind of sad, actually.”
Jason stared down at the cue-cards he clutched. “He said that? He sounded sad saying that?”
Alex parked in the staff carpark, facing the sun as it sank slowly toward dusk. “I mean, you have to really know him to hear that. But . . . I do. He was gently sad.”
Oh God.
Gently sad. The subtext was about him, wasn’t it? He . . . he had these feelings about Jason hiding his identity? He wanted Jason to do the courageous thing?