Page 98 of His Stepdad Wears Leather

“Good,” his mother said with a smile. “Tomorrow morning after breakfast, we can get online and let you peruse the course catalog and see if there’s anything that interests you. Either way, you can, at the very least, get your general education requirements taken care of and then go pursue whatever it is you want to do. But I’m getting ahead of myself. We can talk about this tomorrow. I’m ready for bed.”

“Me, too,” he said before giving her a hug. “I love you.”

His mother squeezed him back tight. “I love you, too, Noah.”

* * *

Brody eyed the email in his inbox, curious. An out of the blue inquiry asking if his building was for sale. Some Los Angeles developer apparently had eyes on his location. Gracie had said there was something big on the horizon. Apparently, he needed to sit up and pay a little more attention to what was going on in the town around him.

Closing his laptop, he headed downstairs, but not to the club. Instead, he unlocked the door to the central spot—the dust-covered remnants of the restaurant he’d always wanted to build. The club only took up a third of the old feed mill’s first floor. The original plan had been to open the club and restaurant, and potentially lease out the final space leftover—but the relationship with his then lover had soured and the man had opted out of the whole thing.

It had left Brody with staggering financial debt, but fortunately, the club had taken off and kept him afloat. After five or so precarious years, he’d been okay enough to rehab his apartment upstairs. The idea of opening the restaurant still enticed him, but running the club seemed to take most of his attention. The thought of starting a new restaurant, from scratch, on top of what he already had on his plate—he simply wasn’t sure he could balance it all and ensure the business at the club didn’t suffer.

“Brody?”

He spun to see Noah at the back door.

Noah smiled at him. “I thought I saw you come in here?” He took a few steps inside. “What’s this?”

“It was supposed to be a restaurant. It failed before it ever really got started.”

“Why?”

“A million little reasons,” Brody answered. “The main one was my partner decided it wasn’t for him. ThatIwasn’t for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Noah said.

“Don’t be,” Brody said, giving the dusty building another glance. “I so wanted to open this place up. My family—they have a restaurant here in town. I grew up there. Washing dishes. Prepping. Cooking. Serving guests. It’s in my blood.”

“I’ve never heard you talk of your family before. Other than Mom and Geena.”

Brody smiled wistfully. “I’m no longer their son. My real family, that is. Being gay was too great a sin.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Brody replied. “I get that you understand how that feels.”

“I do,” Noah said, nodding.

“After Parker was born, I went back and got my business degree. Met someone I thought was my future. Bought this place with a dream. And then he left—and I gave up on relationships.” He brushed a hand through some dust. “And I let this part of the dream crumble and die.”

“It’s not too late to open it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Brody said. “There was an offer in my inbox today. Well, not an offer—an inquiry. A developer is interested in my building.”

“Do you want to sell?”

Jereme’s words from the dinner party circled in his mind. Would it be easier on them if he sold everything and they moved on? Perhaps. But he realized then that wasn’t what he wanted to happen.

“No,” Brody replied. “But I wonder if it’s a waste of time and space keeping this huge building and not doing something with it. Maybe I should consider leasing out the extra space.”

“What would it take to open this dream of yours?” Noah asked.

“Another me,” Brody said with a chuckle.

“I heard you on the phone with Carter once or twice. Do you trust him?”

Brody frowned. “Of course I do.”

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