Cast Off (5 page)

Then again, maybe testing the water with a smaller audience would be simpler. If he could only convince his sweaty palms of that.

Instead, he started to redo the table as directed, trying desperately not to think about what he was going to do at dinner.

“Can you help me?”

Caitlyn snorted. “Not likely.” She gestured at her belly.

“Then get the hell out. You’re in the way.”

His sister’s glare should have burned him to a cinder, but at least she left, letting him gather his thoughts.

R
ICK
frowned at Davy’s door. He should have called ahead—it would be so embarrassing to have to come back. He rang the doorbell and waited.

Davy answered the door with a smile, which relieved Rick’s mind on one score. If his friend had been getting laid, it would have taken him a lot longer and he would have been grumpy.

“Rick, what are you doing here?”

Rick took a breath. “Hey, sweet thing. Left my keys here last night.” He gave Davy a little kiss on the cheek before pushing inside.

“I thought that was your car parked on the street. Wait, you weren’t with Ian all this time, were you?”

Wandering into the living room, he grabbed his keys and pocketed them.

“No, of course not.”

“I’m surprised you left your car here at all. I know I’ve been out of touch for a while, but you were always adamant about having transportation.”

He did not want to have this discussion, nor did he want Davy speculating about why he might have broken those rules.

“Your big, hunky cop around?”

Rick bit back a groan. Why had he asked that? Davy was going to think he was obsessed. Hell, Rick still wasn’t sure if he’d gone home with Ian because he looked like Kurt.

“Nope. Why, want to ask him about Ian?” Davy’s tone was teasing, playful, and Rick cocked his head, contemplating his friend. Davy had had a rough time of it, but Rick was so pleased his friend was happy.

“No, not at all. Why would you think that?”

“Dunno. Ian’s pretty hot. And you went home with him.”

“Don’t read too much into it.” Rick kept his voice light, airy, and unconcerned. He wasn’t going to get sucked into asking about Ian like some teenaged girl with a crush. “It was nothing more than a one-night stand.”

“Okay. Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Davy didn’t know why he had his rules. No one did. But they protected everyone, himself included.

“No worries, hon. Just because you’re making happy families with his brother doesn’t mean me and Ian are soul mates.”

Bitterness darkened his tone, and Davy’s brows drew together. Damn. He’d have to do better at keeping things lighthearted.

“Seriously, though. Kurt’s at his parents’ for dinner. You want to stick around? I’ve got a nice Chardonnay chilling. We could call for Chinese.”

Rick thought about going home. Or going out. Strangely, he wasn’t ready to use another man to erase the memories of Ian just yet. It had been a long time since he’d felt so stretched and satiated that he wanted to savor the feeling for a little longer. He also didn’t want to brood all night. Given his strange mood and uncharacteristic behavior with Ian, if he was alone, that was all he’d do.

“Sounds good.”

Davy made a call to a local Chinese place that delivered. They settled in on the couch with glasses of white wine.

Rick tucked his feet up on the couch and faced Davy.

“So, how come you let the wounded warrior out all by himself?”

Davy grinned. “He’s doing much better. And I love his family, I really do, but there’s so many of them! Kurt was expecting some drama, so I thought I’d skip it. Besides, his family won’t let him overdo things.”

“Oooh… drama? What kind?” Gossip could be fun, when it wasn’t about him. And family stuff gave him hives, so he understood Davy’s need to avoid it.

“Kurt thinks Ian’s going to come out to his family.”

Rick choked on his mouthful of wine. “You mean last night, when he said he was gay, we—or rather, Kurt—was the first to know?”

“Seems so.”

“Oh, well, that’s brave of him.” There hadn’t been a sign last night, aside from tear-reddened eyes and a delicious hint of vulnerability, that Ian had intended something so soul-shaking today. Rick had been a nervous wreck when he’d decided to come out. It had gone badly, so his nerves had certainly been justified and there’s no way he’d have been able to fuck someone into a stupor just hours prior. But then, Rick had come out when he was a teenager and his virginal self couldn’t have fucked anyone into a pleasant daze on his best day.

“I know. It’s a terrifying prospect even when you know it will be okay.”

“Yeah.” Rick downed the last of his Chardonnay. He already knew Davy’s coming out went fine and his own went shit and they didn’t need to rehash. It was over and done and as shitty as it had been, it had been marginally better than the rest of his adolescence.

Davy refilled their glasses without comment and Rick took another sip.

“This wine is pretty decent.” Rick was usually more of a margarita guy, but lately the tequila had been upsetting his stomach. Wrong side of fucking thirty-five. Wine, though, especially white, didn’t have the same effect and he should probably learn a little more about it.

“I know. It’s actually a Wayne Gretzky wine.”

Rick lifted a brow. “Wayne Gretzky has wines?” He wasn’t nearly as into hockey as Davy and Kurt were, but he didn’t mind it, and even those with a nodding acquaintance with the sport ought to recognize the Great One’s name. “You bought this just for the name, didn’t you?”

“Hell yeah!” Davy grinned and clinked their glasses together. “But it’s still good. If only he’d played for Toronto.”

Rick snorted, more than willing to get sucked into a hockey conversation. Less personal was better, and he wasn’t ready to go home and rattle around in his place. His house was home, office, and sanctuary. With a new consult coming in this week, he’d normally spend a pleasant Sunday afternoon preparing for his workweek, but he’d been too unsettled by Ian to concentrate on anything. It hadn’t occurred to him to find out if any of his friends had wanted to just hang out, so having Davy at loose ends was serendipitous. As long as he could steer conversation away from his family life or his sex life.

I
AN
fidgeted in his seat. With only his parents, three of his siblings, and two significant others at the table, he was amazed the conversation never had a lull sufficient for him to broach his announcement. There weren’t even any kids eating at the table in the kitchen to create a break in the conversation.

He wasn’t even sure what he’d eaten. If it had more flavor than sawdust, he hadn’t taken note. He could barely follow the topics of conversation.

Someone mentioned Casa Loma. The scenic castle in the midst of downtown Toronto held some good memories of an office Christmas party a few years back, along with a risky, alcohol-inspired interlude with one of the catering staff.

His brother Dylan had been planning his upcoming wedding to Stephanie, and finally, Ian was able to pretend he was paying attention.

“Casa Loma? Hey, that would make a great place for the reception. They’ve got this awesome conservatory. Great for pictures too.” Ian stopped talking as the entire table stared at him.

“Honey, I’m sure I told you already.” His mother’s concern deepened as she stared at him. “Dylan and Stephanie decided weeks ago to have the reception there. That’s why we’re talking about it.”

Heat licked at his cheeks. Surely he hadn’t been that self-absorbed.

“Sorry, Dylan, Steph.”

“S’okay.” Dylan waved a fork at him in a gesture Ian had no trouble interpreting as obscene. “I’m sure you’ve been busy.”

Stephanie gave her fiancé a mock glare and a nudge to the shoulder, but Dylan hardly looked abashed. His brother would have been more graphic and crude if he’d been on his own, Ian knew that for a fact.

Ian hadn’t been as busy as his family assumed, but last night… yes… he’d been busy. With Rick. And that reminder had his cheeks flaring hotter, even as he recognized this might be the perfect opening.

“You at least remember the date, right? You haven’t made plans?” Dylan’s teasing was a little gentler than Caitlyn’s earlier words, but the truth of them still stung. He’d been completely out of touch for too long.

“Of course I remember the date. I’m supposed to be wearing a tux and everything.” He didn’t remember the date. At all. Hopefully he’d put it in his calendar but pulling his phone out now to check would only have the whole lot laughing at him. He glared at Kurt. If his brother loved him at all, he’d groan or something, take the attention off Ian’s preoccupation. Kurt merely snorted and tried to look invisible. Ian grimaced. After his injury, Kurt had probably got far more familial attention than he wanted.

“Yes, but you did realize they’re going to be mustard yellow, right? It’s got a special meaning for Steph’s family.” Dylan smiled adoringly at his fiancée while Ian threw her a horrified look.

He hadn’t actually agreed to wear a yellow tux, had he? Where would one even go to find such a travesty? The Tuxedo Junction he’d rented high school formal wear from would be unlikely to carry such nonsense.

Heaven save him, he hadn’t agreed to
buy
it, had he? “Er…. Is it going to be specially made?”

Everyone, except for his parents, started laughing, and Ian was pretty sure his father stuffed an extra-large forkful of potatoes in his mouth to prevent himself from doing just that.

His mother’s eyes twinkled, just a bit. “Honey, you really should try to get home for dinner more.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. But the tuxedo is a joke, right?” Because that needed to be confirmed.

“Of course it is, idiot.” Dylan’s words were teasing enough that Ian didn’t take offense, although his fiancée, Stephanie, gave him a dirty look, and his mother cleared her throat warningly. He’d had two sibs call him an idiot in one day. That was a new record since they’d all graduated university.

His father finally swallowed. “Although we’d prefer our children didn’t call each other names….” Dylan had the grace to look chastened. “Boyo, you’ve met our Stephanie, right? I don’t know fashion at all and I can tell she’d not pick something that wasn’t classy.”

Well, that was certainly true. Dylan had picked a sophisticated, attractive woman who still knew how to have fun.

Ian still needed to check his calendar. For all he knew, he had other wedding obligations that required his presence. The conversation moved on to the wedding dress and bridesmaid dresses, and the interlude for his confession passed. He’d have to pay more attention to the conversation; maybe another decent moment would arise naturally.

The conversation made a turn from seating arrangements to his eldest sister, Erin, and her upcoming birthday party. At least he knew that was in his calendar, since it was practically a hanging offense to miss one of the family’s birthday parties. The spouses didn’t get a big party thrown at the pub, but Ian was certain once the grandkids turned sixteen, they’d be included in the birthday schedule too.

“Are you bringing a date to Erin’s birthday party?” His mother held out such high hopes that her youngest sons would settle down.

Ian swallowed wrong and almost choked. His mother’s high hopes would now be pinned solely on him, because Kurt and Dylan, both out of the blue as far as Ian was concerned, had found people to settle down with. He was the only one left.

“A date? No.” He squeezed out the words between sputters. Erin’s birthday party was ridiculously too soon to consider such a thing. Once this confession was out of the way, he might be able to consider dating, but first he’d have to learn how.

“I told you, Mom. He’s such a slut.” Caitlyn scraped another helping of vegetables onto her plate as she spoke.

“I’m hardly a slut.”

“Well you must be doing something wrong, otherwise those poor women you
date
—and I use the term loosely—might come back for seconds.” Caitlyn’s teasing, sharper and more pointed than Dylan’s, and right on top of the unwelcome realization that his entire family had found something he’d never dared try for, lit the fuse of his anger.

“Are you picking on me because you don’t want anyone to notice you’re so much fatter than Colleen?” His sisters had both gotten pregnant at the same time—again. Apparently the twins couldn’t do anything separately, but the fatter insult was nothing more than a stab in the dark.

He didn’t expect Caitlyn to burst into tears as her husband Mark murmured to comfort her, or the rest of the family to glare at him. Fortunately, the tears didn’t last long, but the glare Caitlyn directed at him with red-rimmed eyes should have shriveled his balls.

Caitlyn threw a roll at his head, which then dropped on to his empty plate. “If you’re not a slut, you’re definitely an asshole.”

“What did I do?”

Kurt looked rather uncomfortable and wouldn’t meet his eyes. Dylan just laughed softly at his predicament, and both his parents turned stern, disapproving looks on him.

Only his dad bothered to answer his question. “I don’t know why you’ve been avoiding us, boyo, but if you hadn’t you’d already know this.”

There it was, the expected arrow of guilt, right through the heart. But that didn’t stop his momentary panic. Was there something wrong with his sister? Why hadn’t he paid more attention?

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Caitlyn’s having twins and Colleen isn’t.” Again, his dad was the one who answered.

Ian waited, wondering what the terrible follow-up was. After a moment, he realized there wasn’t one. “You’re kidding, right? That’s it?”

“You know your sisters are happiest when they’re doing things together,” his mother said as though she thought this was normal.

“But they don’t have control over this. Why get so upset?”

“You’ll learn, boyo, when you’ve got a pregnant wife of your own.” Great. His dad was now on the “let’s get Ian settled” bandwagon.

“Please. He’s probably impregnated half the city by now and he still can’t get a girl to stick around.” Caitlyn’s tone was more derisive than ever and sparked his wild swirl of emotions.