“I, uh, always tell people that.” She beamed at him. Silence. Well, hell, who was going to address the boyfriend elephant in the room? Quentin stared into space, and Mary Beth just smiled. Shit!
“Ma’am, uh, you referred to me as Quentin’s boyfriend—”
Quentin put a finger on Micah’s arm. “Shh.”
He covered Quentin’s finger with his hand. “No shh.” He looked back at Mary Beth. “Can you tell me what you meant?”
She smiled. “Well, dear, where I come from, a boyfriend is someone who comes to call and pays attention and steals kisses in dark corners and maybe more if the opportunity arises.”
Micah swallowed. He didn’t even look at Quentin. “And, uh, you think that’s what Quentin and I do?”
“I think life is a lot harder for gay men than it is for women nowadays, but I sure hope you do.”
Quentin’s voice sounded serious. “You never told me you knew I was gay.”
She sighed and looked up at him. “I know, and I’m truly sorry. You know how good we are at pretending in the South. You didn’t seem to want to deal with it, and I just got into the habit of letting you be the way you wanted. I’ve known you were gay since you were twelve, dear. Maybe younger.”
Quentin’s breathing seemed rapid. “Did you move to California because it’s hard being gay in South Carolina?”
“I’m sure it’s hard being gay everywhere, dear. I wanted to move to Laguna Beach for both of us. But yes. I wanted you to have a better life, and most of all, I always hoped you’d find a young man who was so special to you that you’d finally be moved to bring him home and tell me you’re gay. But you never did. Until now.”
Quentin frowned. “Micah’s not my boyfriend.”
Micah’s heart thunked. Mary Beth put a hand on his arm as if to steady him.
“Don’t be silly. Of course he is.”
“He said we have nothing in common.”
She put her hand on Micah’s shoulder. “And I’m sure he’s very sorry he said such a silly thing when it’s clear you were made for each other.”
They were? Micah cocked his head. “I thought we were opposites. Quentin is this genteel, well-educated, gorgeous, talented guy, and I’m a skinny, rigid control freak from a dysfunctional upbringing.”
Quentin stepped over to him and put both hands on his hips. The Queen was on deck. “You are not. You’re incredibly accommodating and generous. Look what you did for me with that awful Dharmaram and how you sacrifice for your customers and for whales and trees. And how your cat loves you. And you’re so handsome and smart.”
Mary Beth smiled. “There, you see. Made for each other. Now, why don’t both of you take the day off and figure out this whole boyfriend thing. I’m sure your staff can do without you, Micah. I’ve always found them to be very professional when I come by.”
“You come to the Place?”
“Everyone in Laguna does, dear. Now, off with you and have a relaxed day. Eat some cupcakes, drink a little champagne. Maybe more than a little. And have some good hot sex.”
Quentin’s hand flew to his face. “NeeNee!”
“Oh, did I forget to mention? That’s another thing boyfriends do.” Her laugh followed her as she left the room.
Micah took a deep breath, and it came back out as a laugh. He took two steps across the room, grabbed Quentin’s head, and pressed his lips against the mouth that was still hanging open. He kissed hard, then pulled back. “Did we just get a lesson in how fear blows everything out of proportion?”
“No, I think it was a lesson in not underestimating one’s grandmother.”
Micah nuzzled that sweet neck. “Want to take her advice? Cupcakes, champagne, and clean white sheets?”
Quentin pulled off the apron. Man, he looked great in jeans. All lean hips and slim, muscled chest. “I’m not sure I can breathe.”
Micah kissed him again.
When he pulled away, Quentin grinned. “My place or yours?”
Micah gazed at him. “Actually, I have something I want to do first. C’mon.”
He took Quentin’s hand and walked out into the busy shop. Several of his regular customers were in the line that snaked out the door.
Annie, his early morning wheatgrass customer, waved and smiled a little sheepishly. “Hi, Micah. I came for raw cupcakes.”
He laughed. “Yes. I have my own right here.” He held up the box. “Say, Annie, have you met Quentin?”
“Sure. Hi, Q.”
Micah looked at the pretty guy beside him. “Q?”
Quentin nodded and smiled shyly. “Some of the customers christened me Q. I think it’s from the movies. They say I come up with great inventions.”
“Hey, I like that.” He raised Quentin’s hand to his mouth and kissed the backs of his fingers.
Quentin’s eyes widened, and he looked around quickly at the stares of the interested customers.
Micah nodded toward Quentin. “Q’s my boyfriend, Annie.”
“I gathered that. Congratulations, you two. I think if you guys can get along, it must portend well for relations in the Middle East. The peace treaty between wheatgrass and white flour.”
Chapter Eight
MICAH CHUCKLED and looked at Quentin, whose eyes still resembled the fabled deer-in-the-headlights. “Come on. Our adventures have just begun.” He took a bag from the counter, slipped the cupcake box in it, put it over his arm, and grabbed Quentin’s hand again. He led the way out into the bright February sunshine. “Where are we going?”
“I’ll show you.” He walked, holding hands, down the sidewalk beside the busy Pacific Coast Highway. A few people stared at their clasped hands. Quentin kind of ducked his head at the glances, but Micah held tight. They reached a side street that led down to the beach, where Mica turned toward the water and bounced down the steps to the sand.
Quentin hurried after him. “Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” At the bottom of the stairs, Micah sat and took off his shoes and socks. Quentin followed suit. They tucked their shoes over beside the stairs and walked barefoot out
