Page 8 of The All-Inclusive

Beck and his husband adopted three siblings from foster care a few years back. Sadie is sixteen, Lola eleven, and Jack just turned six. They’ve been through a lot and they’re lucky as hell to have Beck and Cam as their dads. “They’re cool kids,” I tell Beck. “My parents would love them.”

Beck gives me a look but doesn’t respond.

“My mom would,” I amend.

“Okay.”

We don’t discuss what happened. That’s kinda our rule. My parents raised Beck from the time he was four, taking him inwhen his parents were killed in a car crash. The night before Beck left for boot camp, he mustered the courage to come out to my parents.

Let’s just say it didn’t go great.

Beck clears his throat now, shaking me back from that horrible memory. “Cam keeps asking about the wedding,” he says. “I didn’t tell him you called it off.”

“Really?” Maybe Beck’s hoping I’ll change my mind.

“Cam still thinks we’re all flying to Portland to watch you get hitched.” He takes a sip of his beer. “We’re tacking it on to our trip to Seattle to see Cam’s folks. Sadie wants to be baptized in the same church he was.”

Shit, that’s so sweet. “Same one where you guys got married?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s such a cool kid.”

“Yep.” Pride fills his eyes as he picks up his beer. “Thanks for taking them to the game last night.”

“No sweat.” I always imagined myself as a dad who’d take his own kids to games. “Sorry the breakfast I fixed them made Jack puke.”

“You didn’t know he can’t have dairy.” Beck takes a sip of his drink. “I’m guessing that new bike you bought him made up for it.”

“The girls will get theirs tonight.” I smile at the thought of how giddy they got when I told them. “We had to special order the purple ones they wanted.”

“You’re a good uncle.” Beck’s brow furrows. “Second cousin? Whatever the fuck you are to them.”

“Thanks.” It’s the least I can do after the bullshit my parents pulled.

We lapse into silence, which I know I should welcome. God knows I don’t want to talk about Sara.

But I can’t keep my stupid mouth shut for some reason. “My mom doesn’t know yet.”

“That you called off the wedding?” Beck frowns. “No shit.”

“None whatsoever.” I am totally screwed. “Didn’t have a chance to tell her before we went wheels up.”

My cousin scoffs. “Bullshit.”

“What?”

“You’re being a pussy.” He’s not wrong.

“Fuck off.” I say it with love, but Beck doesn’t back down.

“Come on, bro.” For a man of few words, he’s saved up a handful for me. “I’ve been watching you mope like a lovesick bitch since you got here. You still love this girl, right?”

I can’t answer that question. Not without inviting ten more.

“It’s fucking obvious,” he mutters. “You stared at her picture for fucking hours last night.”

That might be a slight exaggeration. “It’s complicated.”

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