Chapter 41
Every image is perfect. Not only because Gavin is gorgeous and sexy, but because Brody draws the man as he sees him, and the love he feels for the man shines through every time.
None of those images are for sale today, though Brody did slip in a few portraits of former boyfriends he no longer wants to keep. The grittiness of those drawings is a sharp contrast to the rosy, post-coital afterglow evident in Gavin’s pictures. Some of the older drawings have already sold—tattoo artists and skateboarders really seem to appeal to the crowd that’s turned out for the art show.
Brody’s surprised at how many sketches he’s sold already, to be honest. After his first customer, things picked up and he had to set his sketchbook down on his chair to answer all the questions directed his way. A few people just look, but for the most part, a lot of them stop and buy. He’s restocked the sketches hanging on the display board twice already, and the fat binders have begun to noticeably shrink in size. He hasn’t had a chance to count the money he’s folded into the pockets of his jeans, and there’s no time to take a seat or breathe in deep, or even race across the boardwalk to get something to drink from the lemonade stand within sight of his booth.
It’s just before noon when he’s talking to someone about commissioning a graduation portrait of their son, who’s in the Marines, when he feels something—or someone—barrel into the back of his legs. Small hands clutch his knees, and he hears his name shouted out in Evie’s bright voice. “Brody!”
Smiling down at her, he smooths down her windblown ponytails and hands the customer his card, who asks, “She’s a cutie. Yours?”
“His,” Brody says, nodding back over his shoulder at Gavin. When he sees the foil-wrapped hot dogs and soda bottles in Gavin’s hands, his stomach growls. He hadn’t even realized he was hungry, but he grins at the thought of taking a few moments from sales to sit down and fill up on carnival fare. Plus Gavin’s here now. Evie, too. All’s right in Brody’s world.
The customer turns over Brody’s card. Something about the man’s ramrod posture reminds Brody uncomfortably of his own father. But he grins when he sees Gavin’s likeness on the card. “Ah, this guy. The likeness is uncanny.”
Evie steps around Brody’s legs and pushes her way between them. Though she doesn’t know the customer, that doesn’t stop her from tugging on the man’s hand to bring the card down to her level. “That’s my daddy!” Then, dropping her voice to a loud whisper, she adds, “Brody drew me a picture that I’m giving Daddy tomorrow for Father’s Day. Shh! Don’t say anything!”
The customer grins. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
“My daddy has a secret,” Evie says.
Brody gives her a strange look—she just rambles on from one thought to the next with little segue, her child’s mind making mental leaps even he sometimes can’t follow. “What kind of secret?” he asks, resting a hand on her shoulder.
She looks up at him and giggles. “I can’t tell you yet.”
Before Brody can ask her again, she pushes past him to Gavin. “Honey, watch it,” her father says, trying to step out of her grasping arms without losing their food. “Don’t make me drop anything. This is lunch.”
“Hot dogs!” Evie crows as she climbs up to stand on the empty folding chair beside Brody’s seat. “Soda! Gimme, gimme, gimme.”
“Like you need more caffeine,” Brody teases. To the potential customer, he says, “If you want to commission a sketch of your son, just give me a call. I can meet with him or I can work from a photo, whichever works for you.”
“Hey, thanks.” The guy shakes Brody’s hand, then tweaks Evie’s nose, eliciting more giggles from her. “Be good, little lady.”
“I’m alwaysgood,” she assures him, standing on her tiptoes to touch the top of the nearest display board.
“Yeah, good at being bad,” Gavin jokes. “Don’t touch that, honey. Sit down and eat.”
Brody comes around behind the table and leans against Gavin’s back, his head on his lover’s shoulder. “Hey there, sexy,” he murmurs, his breath fanning the hair on Gavin’s neck. “About time you showed up.”
That’s as intimate as he dares to get, but Gavin surprises him by turning to give him a quick hug and kiss. It isn’t passionate or soul-searching by any means, but it’s on the corner of his lips and tells anyone who sees it exactly who they are to each other. “We would’ve been here sooner,” Gavin tells him, “but it seems someonepromised a certain you-know-who that she could go in the water when her daddy woke up.”
“I said later.” Leaning into Gavin’s embrace, Brody looks down at Evie, who’s already biting into a hot dog slathered with ketchup and mustard. “I said don’t wake up your father—“
“I didn’t!” Evie protests. “The TV woke him up. It was too loud, I guess.”
Brody rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t that loud when I left.”
With a shrug, Evie hides her grin by taking another bite of her hot dog. “It must’ve gotten louder somehow. I don’t know.”
Brody isn’t buying it. “Hm-mm. You’re a mess.”
“I’m not a mess!” Evie cries. She pouts up at them, eyes wide, as if on the verge of tears. “Daddy, I’m not a mess, am I? I’m not!”
“You’re something, all right,” Gavin says. His hand drifts down to cup Brody’s butt, then squeezes the wad of dollars in Brody’s back pocket. “What’s all this?”
Brody pulls out the money. There’s more on the other side, and some shoved down in the front pockets, as well. “I sort of sold a few things,” he says sheepishly. “I haven’t had a chance to count it yet…”
“A few things?” Taking the money from him, Gavin starts smoothing out the bills to count them. “I’d say you’re doing pretty well. There’s like two hundred dollars here. Jesus!”
Evie gasps. “Aww, Daddy! You said the J-word!”
“What the hell is the J-word?” Gavin asks with a smirk.