Page 51 of A Small Town Spring

“Er—anyone, really,” Toby says weakly.“But, I guess I was thinking a child?You know you spoil your nephews long distance.What if you had one of your own?They’d have you dancing to their tune.”

I have no idea where to start with that statement, but Van responds immediately, hooting with laughter.“Toby’s got your number, Kingston.You know you’d be mush around a kid of your own.”

“Excuse me?I take exception to that.”I feel oddly defensive, not least because having a child of my own one day seems absurd when I can’t even get a boyfriend.The one I want, anyway.“It’s an uncle’s job to spoil his nephews.When Pete and Jack finally get around to acquiring some rug rats, I’ll be happy to spoil them as well.And what about you and Beck?”I say, turning the tables with a stab of viciousness.“You planning on having kids anytime soon?”

Van’s smile drops but then he shrugs.“Touché.And honestly, probably.Beck’s pretty set on it.”

“And you spoil him, so there you go.”

“You only have one chance at this life, as far as I know.And I don’t want to miss out on anything,” Van says, sounding more certain now.

“That’s brave of you,” Toby says, sounding serious.I think I feel his gaze on me, but when I look over at him, he’s already turning away.

“What do you need the trash bag for?”I ask.

“Just cleaning up the studio.My manic work period is officially over.I’m taking a painting break.We’re working on the final list for the show now.”

“Did Beck’s portrait make it in?”Van asks.

“So far, yes.”

“But it’s not for sale,” Van says.

“Nope, that one’s already spoken for,” Toby confirms.

“By you, I assume,” I say.

“That’s right.It’s pretty special,” Van says.“Have you seen it?”

“No, not yet.”I haven’t seen any of Toby’s portraits.Including the one of me.I decided I didn’t want to see it, though he reminded me I will when I attend the show’s opening, a little over a month from now.

“Prepare to be amazed,” Van says.

“I’m sure I will be,” I murmur.Again, I feel a snag of unease.Toby’s world is going to open up after that show begins.He’s not going to have any reason to stay here if he doesn’t want to.I’m not going to be able to offer him anything he can’t get for himself.

Is it too much to hope he’ll want to stay, anyway?

“I’ll see you around, Van,” Toby says.“Kingston, do you still want me to make that soup for dinner later?”

“Yes, please,” I say.“And put on a coat, please.”

He huffs but grabs a jacket from the hooks by the back door—it might be my jacket, actually—and leaves.

“And you’re telling me that you and he aren’t sleeping together?”Van’s question jolts me out of my warm thoughts of Toby nonchalantly wearing my clothes.

“What?No.”I glance sharply at my friend and his erroneous suppositions.

Van just shakes his head.“I wasn’t sure I was going to have this opportunity, but I am so glad I get to do this.”

“Do what?”I ask suspiciously.

“Help you pull your head out of your ass,” he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his ankles in satisfaction.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Toby.You need to kiss the boy already.”

“He’s not interested,” I say dismissively.

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