By the time he got to Steven’s house, his brother and Holly had already started feeding branches into the small fire pit on the back patio. Given the size of the burn pile and the size of the fire area, this was going to take a while.
“Hey, bro,” Steven called. “Perfect timing. Can you start breaking up some of those larger branches into burnable lengths? I need to go get the saw to work on the thickest ones.”
“On your way inside, you can put these in the fridge.” Paul handed Steven a six-pack of Boulevard beer, his standard hostess gift.
“Ah, that’s my big brother.” Steven patted him on the back in a manly fashion and headed inside.
Paul bent down to pick up some branches, and he felt a light smack on his butt.
“Hey cutie,” Holly grinned.
“Hey yourself,” he smiled. “You’re smacking the wrong brother’s ass, you know.”
“Well, you guys share some DNA, so my hand must have gotten you confused.”
“I can’t tell you how many girls have told me that.”
“How many girls tell you what?” Steven returned with cutting tools.
“About the power of the McDonnell ass,” Holly said.
“Oh, well, yeah,” Steven shrugged. “Nothing like a powerful ass.”
You have no idea, Paul thought, his mind shifting directly to Ace’s delectable backside. And you need to keep having no idea.
“Babe, why don’t you go get the food that we’re going to roast,” Holly said. “Paul and I will keep the fire going.”
“This feels backward, anthropologically speaking,” Steven frowned comically. “Building fire is man’s work, woman.”
“Yeah, about that,” Holly said. “Get used to things being backward.”
“Hmpf. Okay,” Steven said. “But only because everything feels so good backwards.” He waggled his eyebrows and jogged back into the house.
“Did I just learn something about your sex life with my little brother?” Paul asked.
“Depends on how good you are at reading between the lines,” she said, throwing more twigs into the flames.
“Truly, no more talk about my brother and sex,” Paul pleaded. “There are things you just don’t want to know about family members.”
Holly brushed her hands onto her jeans and sat down in one of the Adirondack chairs to take up the rest of her supervisory role in the burning of shrubbery.
“Fine. Then let’s talk about your sex life.”
Paul fought a blush. He wanted to say, ‘what sex life?’ which usually would be exactly accurate. But not lately.
“By all means,” Paul said with a bravery he didn’t feel.
After checking that Steven was out of sight and earshot, Holly turned to Paul and fixed him with an unblinking stare.
“I know,” she announced.
Paul frowned and shook his head. “Know what?”
“About you.”
Her Cheshire cat smile was starting to irk him. “Can you be more specific?”
She leaned far back in her seat to make sure Steven was out of range. “You’re gay, aren’t you?”
Paul felt the blood drain completely from his face, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Why in the world would you say that?”
“Ace,” she said simply.
He was instantly, irrationally furious. Had Ace said something to Holly while they were decorating the house yesterday while Paul had been sweating outside? Was Ace really that guy?
“Did Ace ” He cut himself off before he gave away more. But it was too late. Holly’s triumphant look told him the jig was up.
“I knew it!” she whispered excitedly. “I mean, it was written all over your faces at lunch!”
Paul swallowed with difficulty. “So Ace didn’t tell you or anything?”
“No!” Holly said, sounding offended. “I’ll have you know my gaydar is the gold standard. I could just tell.”
Paul scanned his periphery for Steven, then leaned in toward Holly. “How long have you known? About me, I mean?”
Holly was taken down a peg. “Well, just since Ace. It was the way you looked at him.”
That brought a small measure of relief. At least he hadn’t been careless before Ace had made him lose all control over his rules.
“So, you didn’t have any suspicions before?” he asked carefully.
“That you were gay? Are you kidding? I mean, it’s not like I’ve seen you date at all, but you’ve either got a mild case of gayness or you’re the most carefully closeted guy I’ve ever seen.”
Paul quirked an eyebrow. “Gold standard gaydar, huh?”
“Hey! Cut me a break already! The only other guy I usually see you around is your brother.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “And I’m feeling an ewww coming on at the implications of that.”
“All right,” Steven called out, his hands full of platters and baskets. Paul jumped up from his seat and away from the heart-racing conversation he was having with Holly.
“We’ve got brats, fat-free turkey dogs for you, my dear, and the requisite marshmallows, graham crackers and Hershey bars,” Steven said.
“In other words, health food,” Paul said, stepping forward to take some of the food.
“Exactly.”
Holly took the rest of the food from his arms. “Sweetie, can you go get us some drinks now? I believe I saw Paul walk in with beer. And can you make me some iced tea? Pretty please?”
“That was my next stop, yes.” Steven pecked her on the lips and returned to the house.
Paul stabbed some meat on skewers and kept his eyes away from Holly’s, trying to forestall any further uncomfortable conversation. It didn’t work.
“So, was I right about Ace, too?”
“You mean that he’s gay?” Paul asked with fake disinterest. “I’m pretty sure he made that clear up front.”
“No, damn it,” she huffed. “About you and Ace. There was a thing between you yesterday at lunch. Did something happen?”
Man, what didn’t happen. There was no use hiding this; Holly was proving to be frightfully good at coming to the right answer without showing her work.
“Yes,” he sighed.
“At lunch?” she persisted.
“And after. And before, actually.”
“Really,” Holly drew out. “Before? As in before yesterday or just before lunch?”