“The grooms. Is one or are both family or friends?” Dad asked.
Devyn gulped, and I side-eyed him. He’d stepped in this on his own and I wasn’t about to save him.
“Ummm family?”
Dad arched a brow. “You don’t seem certain.”
Devyn’s head bobbled, reminding me of a toy. “No, no. It’s family.”
“Are you ready to order?” The server saved Devyn from having to provide more details and expand on his lies.
Devyn prevented Dad continuing the conversation after we ordered our food by describing the painting he was working on. He showed us pics and explained his use of colors and we admired his technique.
As Dad brought his burger to his lips he said, “Isn’t that Sebastian?” His fingers pressed into the bun and froze while Devyn and I craned our necks. Shit and triple shit. What the heck was my stepfather doing in what he’d call a dive like this? He was a champagne and caviar kinda guy.
Devyn caught my eye and we slithered under the table in unison.
“Heston,” Dad hissed. “Get up here. I’m not carrying on a conversation alone with that man.”
“Can’t,” I whispered as I peered toward the counter and the expensive leather shoes that had to be my step-father’s. They were a little scuffed, another sign his life was in flux. In the past, he would bellow at the staff if he couldn’t see his reflection in his shoes.
The feet paused, turned toward our booth as if he were deciding whether to come over. But as we were tucked away behind potted plants, he might not have seen Dad—or us.
But he turned on his heel and faced the counter. Even above the chatter, I could hear his less than dulcet tones insulting the staff and telling them to hurry his order.
When he strode out of the diner, the tension left Dad’s body as Devyn and I crept out shamefaced from under the table.
Dad’s pinched mouth was a sure sign he was peeved, as he had every right to be.
“I’d like an explanation, please.”
“Can I eat first?” But one glance at my dad told me the delaying tactic wasn’t an option. “Okay. Where do I start?” I tapped my lips, hoping Devyn would help me out. “It’s like this. I love Devyn.”
Dad’s steely glare was enough to have me continue.
“And he loves me.” I bit into my BLT and the sriracha sauce drizzled over my chin.
“Napkin.” He shoved one at me and I dabbed at the spicy sauce.
Devyn grabbed my hand. “And we want to get married.”
My dad’s nostrils flared. “Andthat’sthe wedding?” He stabbed his finger on the table. “My son is getting married and I’m the last to know?”
“Maybe we should take this outside?” People were looking at us and I longed to not share all my secrets in public.
“We’ll do it here.” Dad’s firm voice told me not to argue.
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Devyn added. “For you.”
“Is it an elopement or am I invited to my only son’s wedding?”
Ummm, I hadn’t thought about that. All I was concerned about was the money.
“Of course you’re invited, Dad.” Devyn cut off the elopement story.
My dad drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Fine. But what does Sebastian have to do with it? And why were you hiding from him?”
Okay, that was a tough one. “Did you want to take that, Devyn?”
