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There was that thought again, and this time I couldn’t shake it. “I don’t know.”
Paige sank lower in her seat. “I get that.”
But the idea of pushing past this fear brought so many arguments. Deacon had already balked at the idea of more. More than once. There was no reason for him to change his mind.
But Adam had plenty of reasons that all went back to him realizing there was so much more out there than me for him.
It was a lot less painful to tell myself I was keeping my distance for the twins’ sake.
I looked back at the various sites Paige had pulled up on my computer, about Deacon’s building. There was something I could do that had nothing to do with sex or romance.
Okay, it had a lot to do with sex, but not sex with me.
I didn’t suspect that having a place declared a historical site was as easy as they made it on TV, but I was going to figure it out.
I spent the next several hours learning everything I could about the process, and didn’t go to bed until my eyes were too dry to make sense of words anymore. Friday morning I was back at it, including calling in a favor with a friend who worked at our town hall, to help me answer some questions on the paperwork.
Turning onto Main Street filled me with a mix of nervous anticipation and dread, from memories of every time I’d come down here to visit the antique shop, and knowing I wasn’t going there today.
I parked out of sight of their shop windows, mostly because I was a Grade A coward and would cave and make a fool of myself if I ran into either man. I wasn’t thinking about the fact that I’d have to go talk to them after this, to share the good news. Instead, I cut through the back alley across the street.
As I drew closer to the City building, a strange noise caught my attention, and I paused. Grunting? No. Not when I strained. Murmuring. Like voices. Definitely.
It wasn’t polite to eavesdrop, but curiosity won out. I followed the sound toward two buildings with a barely-there gap between them, and found two men with a barely-there gap between them. Their foreheads were pressed together, one with his hands resting at the base of the other’s neck as they muttered words I couldn’t make out.
“Travis?” His name slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
They both looked up, startled.
“Oh, crap.” The younger man paled when he saw me, and sprinted off in the other direction without another word.
I knew him, as well. Manny was the current bishop’s oldest son. He was also barely twenty-two, and had just gotten back from a church mission in Uruguay.
For the most part, I didn’t care what anyone did with anyone else, as long as it was consensual, but given the grief Travis had tossed at me over the years—the self-righteous, snotty, gossipy bullshit—it was hard not to act smug right now.
“Don’t say anything.” Travis strode toward me. His strong tone was in sharp contrast to the fact that his eyes darted in every direction. “You’ve been with younger men, too.”
I could play thebut I’m a womancard, but really that felt slimy. Even now. “I have. And thank you for telling the entire town about that, by the way.”
“You can’t keep something like that a secret.”
Was he really trying to make this about me? No thank you. “You’re right, you can’t.” It was so tempting to rake him over the coals with this, but I wasn’t him. I did have one issue with what I’d seen though—I couldn’t help but wonder how I’d feel if it was one of my kids, barely older than they were now, with a manipulative, cruel asshole who was Travis’s age. “Big difference is, Adam and Deacon are only a few years younger than me, not nearly two decades. This will get out. You know that, don’t you?”
“Are you threatening me?”
Adam would’ve drawn a Beavis comparison at this point. I missed him. “No. I’m not a gossip. I’m telling you how it is. If I caught you, someone else will.” Though it was so tempting to shout this from the rooftops. Was I a good enough person to keep it to myself?
Manny didn’t deserve the whispers, even if Travis should be subjected to much worse.
“Why are you here?” Travis asked.
Not a great attempt to redirect the conversation, but not bad. “Not to talk to you. In fact, I have an appointment in”—I checked my watch—“two minutes. I need to go.”
“Wait.” Travis grabbed my arm.
I shot him a withering glare and he let go.
“Please don’t tell anyone about this.” The strength was gone from his voice.
