"Make it two boxes." Noah held the freezer door for Chase as he grabbed boxes of frozen hamburger patties. "The exhibit's all tiny art."
Chase hummed. For a show put on by some pretentious rich guy, that actually sounded interesting. "Cool. Why tiny art, though? Not, like, world peace or beauty?"
Noah leaned in and lowered his voice. Grocery stores were a prime spot for overhearing gossip, after all. "I think the guy thinks he can buy a lot of it for the same amount as a few large paintings and impress people..."
"Oh," Chase laughed, setting the boxes in the cart. "Did you try explaining--"
"That size doesn't dictate price?" Noah smirked. "That can apply in so many situations. But yes," he lisped, letting the door swing shut and flourishing as he turned on his heel to follow Chase.
Chase snorted. "Funny." He wheeled the cart along. "What veggies do we need?"
"Fresh veggies are better on the barbecue. We'll go back there." Noah checked his list, then dangled it between two fingers and sauntered along next to Chase.
Even Chase was surprised at how at ease he felt around Noah. He still didn't quite know how to respond sometimes, but Noah made him laugh instead of cringe more often now. "Okay. What do they like making most?"
"Asparagus, green beans, corn... the usual. Thomas is a fiend for corn. He'll eat it all if you let him."
"Good to know," Chase chuckled. "You must like being around them a lot."
Noah nodded. "Oh, yeah. I'm moving in soon." He glanced at Chase. "You are, too, huh?"
"It... it's way sooner than you and Cam, but yeah," Chase admitted. "It was supposed to be temporary, but I like living with him. And I like the family atmosphere."
"Yeah." Noah started choosing corn cobs, squeezing them and peeking under the layers of leaves. "It gets a little lonely here sometimes. Or it did before I met them. Now I have this huge, weird circle of friends from each of them and from my own hobbies..."
Chase laughed. "Yeah? You don't have family here?"
"No. They haven't been out to see me yet, either," Noah shook his head. "But I'm hoping to see them at Christmas or something. We've never been super-close. We're the type to visit once or twice a year and maybe call on special occasions, but otherwise leave me alone."
"That sounds okay," Chase nodded. "The opposite of these guys, though."
"Very opposite." Noah frowned as he stuffed corn into a bag, then chose another. "Help me pick corn."
Chase abandoned the cart and grabbed a plastic bag to start choosing corn cobs as Noah showed him how to. "I don't have one, so I'm kind of looking forward to getting involved with the Rileys more," he admitted.
Noah gave him a quick glance, then smiled. "Yeah? They're super-nice, even his parents. It's just small-town manners. It's really easy to get to know people. I kinda wish my family were more in touch, though... I drove them away a little, you know?"
Chase nodded. He wasn't sure what to think of Noah confiding in him so easily, but again, he tried hard not to judge him. After all, Noah seemed to be trusting him like a new family member, and being treated that way was a relief. He kept his voice down out of respect for Noah's privacy. "If you want them to talk more, try encouraging them. Maybe they just think you want more distance than you want anymore."
"Mmm." Noah gave him a thoughtful glance. "Wise."
Chase cracked a smile. "Thanks. This enough corn?"
"It should be." Noah squeezed his shoulder. "Come on, let's go get green beans next."
Chase took charge of the cart and followed after Noah, smiling to himself at Noah's retreating back. Maybe Noah was loudly colorful, the type for whom the closet was never an option, but he seemed sweet.
This was his new life: grocery shopping and barbecues, bringing lunch to Jackson when he was off while Jackson brought him lunch on his work days. And getting to know a whole new family on top of that... It was overwhelming, but every fiber in Chase's body told him he was on the right track.
Chapter 33
Jackson
"Cathy and Don? Great to meet you," Jackson smiled, pumping their hands. "You live next door, huh? Sorry for my brothers' ugly mugs."
Cathy laughed and accepted the hamburger he handed over. "Thank you. It's nice to see some more life in this neighborhood. We haven't been a tightly-knit neighborhood in so long."
"Yeah?" Jackson frowned, stepping back from the grill for a moment once he gave Don a burger, too. "I don't know much about the neighborhood. I lived on the other side of downtown for a while, but not over here."
"Oh, it used to be a little closer. Since the suburbs started growing, a lot of families have moved there. Downtown is full of students now, not so many young families."
Jackson nodded. "But this is the best place to raise a family, right in walking distance of everything."
"Exactly," Don agreed. He was a heavyset, greying man with a small beard. He licked the ketchup off his fingers. "It was wonderful for our family. When our sons moved out, we decided to stay here because we knew the area, if not the people."
"If only we'd had these barbecues at the start of the summer," Cathy shook her head.
"Next summer," Jackson promised firmly. "We're planning on redoing the yards until the snow falls, and then as soon as the ground thaws in the spring. It might look very different by next time you're over! But you can come over anytime if you need anything," he added. "To any of my brothers'."
"Thank you. You, too – I hate running out of things while baking," Don laughed.
"So you're all brothers?" Cathy added. "You're the one with the forge?"
"Ah, you know about the forge," Jackson grinned. "Hard to miss, I suppose. I am. I'm the oldest. My brother Cam there's a beekeeper, in semi-retirement until he has surgery in December. And that's Thomas, my little brother. He works at a bank."
"Are you all seeing anyone?"
The way Cathy asked, Jackson was certain they already knew the answer. Nosy damn neighbors. He kept a lid on his first response, reminding himself that a hot temper wasn't the best way to make friends. "Yes. My boyfriend there is Chase, the one with the tattoos." He had his sleeves rolled up and he was making another bowl of salad under Noah's directions. "And Noah, next to him, is Cam's boyfriend."
"Thomas isn't, then?"
"Not yet." Jackson laughed. "We've both started dating since moving in here, though, so there must be something in the air. Many young singles here, or mostly couples and families?" At the barbecue, it was an even mix of people. Some young professionals, a couple pairs of roommates, two families, and some older couples.
At least nobody had been too weirded out by them. Canada was nice sometimes, especially small towns. Jackson thought they got a bad rap sometimes, but sometimes they were the best places. Sometimes people didn't judge you, or they'd known you since you were a kid. His old math teacher turned out to be living quite close and had dropped by earlier.
All four of the others – Cam, Thomas, Noah, and Chase – kept glancing at him as he talked with Don and Cathy. He got the feeling something was up. Eventually, he excused himself under the pretext of asking them to run inside for more meat.
"What are those looks for?" he asked, leaning between Noah and Chase.
Noah glanced at Cam, who returned the glance.
"Okay, spill."
"Uh," Cam spoke up, clearing his throat. "A week or two back, someone called the cops for a noise disturbance. And complained about the wood smoke."
Jackson's eyebrows shot up and he heated up. "But the regulations--" He tugged at his collar.
"I know," Noah assured him. "That's what we told him – he agreed and left us alone. But we don't really want people asking the city to come investigate. It'd just be a pain in your ass..."
"What, you thought I'd bite their heads off if I knew?" Jackson rolled his eyes. Probably true, but still.
"Uh..." Cam swapped glances with Thomas, both trying not to laugh.
Jackson snorted. "Fair point. I'll play nice. More burgers, please."
"On it," Chase told him. He pecked his cheek and ducked away to head inside.
When Jackson returned to the grill, Don and Cathy were still standing nearby. Jackson forced himself to smile again. The bastards, calling the cops on me. I clearly had contractors do the work specifically so it would be up to code. And I don't run the forge out of hours, and I even dampened my damn anvil...
"So, do you do railings?" Don asked.
Jackson resisted the urge to groan. No more fucking railings. "I've done a lot of them, yeah."