“Oh, I told her he’d been committed.” Monty signaled the waitress for the check. “I just didn’t tell her where. There’s no love lost between me and my sister, Tucker. She hates all gay people. Myself included.”
“Why would she come to the wedding, then?” Evan asked.
Monty scoffed. “To rub his nose in it. Emmett confessed everything to me, Tucker. Everything. My sister may have told him that the wedding was therapeutic but, honestly, I think she enjoys seeing him miserable. She’s a terrible, terrible person.”
Epilogue
ONE MONTH LATER
“It’s so much bigger than I expected.” Evan put the suitcase down and stood in the center of the room, turning.
“Well,” Tucker said. “After living in the guest house, everything probably seems larger by comparison.”
They were standing in Tucker’s childhood bedroom in the main house. Reminders of his youth surrounded them. Atlanta Braves pennants, along with a poster of The Big Three–pitchers Greg Maddux, John Smoltz, and Tom Glavine. Opposite these, posters of Nirvana and Red Hot Chili Peppers still hung on the walls.
Evan chuckled. “It’s like a museum. Clean as a whistle and perfectly preserved.”
“There are a lot of good memories in here. I think they keep it this way to cherish them. I suspect other parents do as well.”
“It’s sweet.” Evan picked up a picture of Tucker and Shelly as teens, him holding her lanky body precariously out over the water, mouths and eyes wide with youthful energy. “I like being able to peek into your past.”
“Well, get used to it,” Tucker said, setting down the box he was holding on the dresser. “We’re stuck here for at least a month. Who knows, with contractors? Maybe two.”
Evan went to him, wrapping his arms around Tucker’s thick torso. “It’ll be worth it–like new... and ours.”
They had been scouting for a new place to live. Though they loved the guest house–it was close to home, came with beautiful landscaping, a pool, and, best of all, was free–for two grown men starting a life together, it was simply too small. When Titus got wind of their plans, he offered a solution. Why not move into the main house while he had the guest house renovated, adding a second floor, doubling the space?
Evan, being the new addition, seemed the likely culprit to balk. However, it was Tucker who was skeptical, questioning whether starting their lives together so near his parents was wise. Evan, however, was sold on the idea immediately. Not only had he fallen in love with Tucker, but having been reared by unsupportive parents, Titus and Pedro were now a significant part of his world, too.
His excitement at the notion of being able to have a larger house and being able to stay where they were was all it took to convince Tucker it was the right decision. After all, and similar to what Pedro had once said, it was a package deal.
Titus, never one to beat around the bush, called contractors for prices immediately. Construction started tomorrow, hence their temporary move to Tucker’s childhood bedroom.
Evan collapsed on the bed, stretching his arms with an exaggerated sigh. “Man, I am worn out.”
Tucker went around the bed and laid down beside him. “How are auditions going?”
“Good. It’s a small cast—a murder-mystery thriller called Deathtrap.”
“Sounds dark.”
“It’s scary, but fun. Like a roller coaster ride, lots of twists and surprises. Monty will make a great Sidney, the lead.”
“I like that you’re casting him. Daddy’s been trying to mend our relationship with the Barksdales for years. Now, here you are, carrying the torch.”
“That’s got nothing to do with it. Y’all can believe whatever. I’m casting him because he was the best that auditioned. You’ll be surprised at how good he is. There’s a lot of untapped talent around here. I’m hoping to get you up there one day. You would make a great Clifford—handsome, strapping.”
“Uh, no. I have a business to run, remember?”
“I do. So, Lance is my best option. I’ll have to age him a tad with makeup.”
“Wait, a minute. Lance works for me now.”
“Yep.”
Evan rolled to his side, slipping his hand beneath the waistband of Tucker’s shorts. Tucker’s cock was quick to respond, semi-hard and growing. Evan gave it a good squeeze.
“Mph,” Tucker moaned.