Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
For the next two weeks, they would be able to do just that, and maybe afterward. August had told him about his conversation with Reese on their camping trip. He hated that Reese felt insecure. That he liked Clint and wanted August to be happy but worried where his place would be with Clint in August’s life, as if that would change how much August loved him. He was such a cool kid, and it killed Clint that Reese didn’t see that. Fear of abandonment was a very real thing, and Clint never wanted to hurt Reese or make him question his dad’s love for him. They would just have to prove him wrong, and he knew they would, but these next two weeks belonged to Clint and August.
They’d come home from their camping trip the day before, and today August was taking Reese to the airport. Afterward, August was going home to pack his things and grab the dog before heading to Clint’s.
It took longer than Clint expected, but eventually he heard August’s vehicle pulling down the driveway. He got a ridiculous smile on his face, knowing they wouldn’t have any interruptions. That for now, August was his.
Clint stood on the porch, leaning against the railing as August got out of his SUV, let Butter out, and grabbed his bag. He was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt, but he looked gorgeous, all sexy and relaxed, his hair a little messier than usual.
“You okay?” Clint asked when August took the steps.
“Yep. It’s hard to say goodbye even though I know he’ll be home soon. It’ll be good for him to have some quality time with Lewis, and I’m hoping I’ll have a different sort of quality time with you.”
Clint kissed August’s smile, feeling each and every one of his words. “You can count on that, and it’s gonna start with a date.”
August raised a brow. “Oh really?”
“Yeah. I’m taking you out and showing you off—if you’re okay with that last part.”
“Are you kidding me? I scored Clint Jones. I’m flaunting that shit around everywhere,” August replied, and damned if that didn’t make Clint feel all sorts of proud.
“I’m quite the catch.”
“Oh, I see how you are. You’re gonna let it go to your head now?”
“Maybe.” Clint winked.
They went upstairs, August unpacked his things, and they got ready. Clint was a simple kind of guy, so this would be a simple kind of date. The main point was that he wanted to be out with August.
Italian food had always been August’s favorite, so he drove them out to a place in Chelsea he’d heard good things about. While Chelsea was the biggest city in Briar County, they did have an old-fashioned downtown area that used to be the whole town before all the growth. That’s where the restaurant was, along with other older buildings and wood-front shops and cafés.
“It’s crazy to me how much Briar County has grown,” August said as they walked from the truck to the restaurant.
“That’s because we’re old. It’s been twenty-eight years.”
“Why do you have to remind me?” August teased.
“We get better with age.” Clint held the door open for August, who went inside. There was a young hostess at the counter.
“Two?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Clint replied.
She grabbed menus and led them to a corner table. They were all covered in white cloths with candles in the middle. “Your waiter will be right with you,” she said before slipping away.
He showed up just a moment later with bread and water, before asking if they wanted anything else to drink. Neither of them was really a wine drinker, so August ordered a beer and Clint just drank water.
“Ron is bugging me to get you over to his place.”
“I’d like that. It’s weird because in Orlando we lived close to my family but didn’t spend much time with them. Lewis’s are in California, and they aren’t close either. I feel like Reese missed out on that.”
“There’s no shortage of family here, even if they aren’t blood related. Between Grady, Deke, Roe, Holden, the Covingtons, and my brother and his wife, he’ll be properly suffocated with family before you know it.”
They laughed, then looked at the menu together to decide what they wanted. They settled on an appetizer of fried ravioli, Clint getting lasagna and August chicken parmesan.
They ate and laughed, natural ebbs and flows in the conversation. When the bill came, Clint insisted on paying, and August leaned over the table and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. That wasn’t something Clint had done so publicly before, not outside of queer spaces like a gay bar, at least, but it didn’t bother him at all. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he wanted everyone to know August was his.
After dinner, they walked down Main Street, holding hands, checking out the shops.