Page 110 of Pretty ’n Peak

Austin considered it the whole ride down, the flowers filling his lap and the vase settled protectively in a paper bag between his feet.

The Lyft driver fortunately didn’t want to talk, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Was this part of the Daddy kink that everyone else got off on?

And was that what he wanted?

It wasn’t until they were driving through Woodburn, nearly an hour in rush hour traffic, that he started to worry.

What if he was coming on too strongly? What if the flowers were too much?

Like the other things he’d secreted away in his suitcase, he could hide the vase if things didn’t seem to be going that way.

They made it to the library just before seven, so he wouldn’t be the first one there but there was still plenty of time left in the event.

The Woodburn Public Library was a sprawling building of glass and brick, and already there was a festive air with music playing in a flow of Spanish syllables. At a table inside the lobby, someone directed him to scan a QR code that would let him bid on the art pieces or make a donation to the library, and someone else let him stash his things behind the check-out desk.

Inside, the space was airy and open with… maybe some sort of greenhouse room in the middle of all the bookshelves and computer tables?

People were milling around and chatting in a fluid mixture of Spanish and English. He wasn’t trying to overhear any conversations, but this wasn’t a high brow event. People caught up about their kids and talked about local events while they roamed the halls.

Like most public buildings, all the furniture was large and blocky, easy enough for him to see and avoid, and the floors were clear and flat.

He could make out the darker shapes of painting on the walls where people stopped to congregate, but more details than that were beyond him.

He was really looking for Mateo anyway.

But one huge painting dominated a white wall, the canvas at least eight or nine feet high and split into three vertical panels with some space between.

Together, they made up a face with dark eyebrows and a neat beard that he was almost certain was Mateo’s.

The background of the first panel he couldn’t make out, and the middle one was white. But the third was filled with flowers.

Austin’s heart clenched.

God, his beautiful, beautiful boy.

He pulled out his tablet, which he’d brought for just this purpose, and used the magnifier app to begin scanning up and down the painting. With the screen held a few inches from his face, he could make out shapes he’d never be able to with the distance.

He started at the left, and discovered scenes of daily life in a blocky, folk art style. Family. Construction work. Church. Community. It was brimming with color, or at least the full spectrum of pinks and greens that Austin could make out.

The white background of the second panel turned out to be a staticky gray, with uneven drips and slashes.

And then the third was a jungle motif. Austin’s eyes had been drawn to the flowers that curled past Mateo’s ear and around his neck, but there were thick leaves, a toucan, and a lizard as well.

So, perhaps not quite as revealing of Mateo’s desires as he’d thought at first.

Hiding and showing at the same time.

He ended with the plaque on the wall. The piece was titled El Otro, and in smaller letters below that The Other. Oil paint on wood. Mateo Delgado-Martínez.

He’d only learned Mateo’s last name a week ago when he looked him up on the library website. It was funny to think of how well he knew the man—or at least thought he did—without exchanging such pertinent information.

He typed the code for the picture into the website and found that the bidding was currently at three hundred dollars. He wanted it.

A painting large enough that he could see Mateo’s glowing face surrounded by flowers.

Unless that would be strange? He’d have to ask.