Page 86 of Game On

Dorian did trust Jamie, so he squared his shoulders and said, “I’m launching a subscription box.”

He didn’t have time to brace himself for their negative reactions before Holly said, “Ooh, how fun. What kind of box?”

“It’ll feature products from small businesses in BC,” Jamie answered for him, his grin a mile wide.

“Nice,” Andrew said. “You should talk to Niall about that.”

Dorian frowned. “I thought he owned souvenir stores.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t only stock knick-knacks and kitschy mass-produced crap branded with killer whales and spirit bears and mountains. He also stocks items from makers in and around Kelowna. He’d be a good contact for local makers if nothing else.”

“Oh yeah.” Jamie stole a slice of bacon from the plate at his dad’s elbow. “That’s a good idea. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

Joanna took a platter of pancakes out of the oven where they’d been keeping warm. “You could feature Holly’s art in your box.”

“Oh my god, Mom.” Holly groaned.

“What?” Joanna said innocently. “He’s featuring products from small businesses. You’re a small business.”

“Ignore her,” Holly leaned closer to Dorian to whisper.

“Believe it or not, I’ve already considered that,” Dorian said. “I looked you up after Jamie came home with your painting, but I can’t put a three-thousand-dollar painting in each box.”

“She does art prints,” Clint said proudly. “Five by sevens of her originals.”

“Yeah?” Dorian turned to her. “Because you have a painting called Rose Sunrise Over Okanagan Lake that’d be perfect in the summer box. Have you got prints of that one?”

She stared at him, mouth hanging open.

Breakfast was a wild affair. The kitchen table wasn’t large enough for everyone, so some people sat at the kitchen island, the kids had their own picnic-like table, and the dogs stayed outside within an enclosed area. When Dorian looked outside, Poppy was happily bouncing around with Mona and a border collie puppy.

Niall sat across from him, and when he learned about Dorian’s box—having missed the earlier conversation—he offered to have a stack of Fir & Pine postcards available on the counter at his shops. And Andrew sat next to Dorian, asking him about marketing plans and social media campaigns.

It was surreal. Especially compared to how Adriana had reacted.

Whatever. Dorian didn’t need her approval.

Except... didn’t he?

Didn’t he need everyone’s approval? Wasn’t that why the social media gig was perfect for him? It gave him the approval he craved—that he’d never gotten from his family—via likes and comments.

On top of the revelation that he dressed the way he did so that people would notice him...

He didn’t love the picture it painted of himself.

At the same time, though, maybe that picture wasn’t so bad. Jamie liked him. Jamie had wanted him to meet his family, and that family seemed to like him too. Hell, Andrew and Alia had fought for the spot to Dorian’s right. It was like Jamie had taken him from his own world and plopped him into this fantasy one that he hadn’t known existed.

Okay, he’d known it existed. The extended Shore family, as a whole, was affectionate, and there was always someone to lend a helping hand. But for whatever reason, it had never occurred to Dorian that he’d grown up in an emotionally repressed household until he’d spent an hour with the Jamiesons. Perhaps he hadn’t been far enough removed from his own extended family to see the difference.

But the Jamiesons made it obvious.

Down the table, Will had his phone out. “Yo, Dorian. What’s your website?”

“Hey.” Clint pointed his fork at him. “What’s the rule about phones at the table?”

“But I want to check out Dorian’s website.”

“It’s not live yet,” Dorian told him.

---