“I need to fix that,” Mason said at the same time Cooper said, “I love that half the town is gay now. See what you did when you turned me?”

Mason let out a loud laugh and stepped away from Gavin.

“Of course, it’s always about you,” Noah teased.

Cooper reminded Gavin of Braden.

He listened as Noah, Cooper and Mason continued to razz each other. He liked the dynamic of the people he’d met in Blackcreek. It made him feel at home in a way that was totally foreign to him. “Can I get you guys anything?”

“Just lunch. Burger and fries,” Noah told him, and Gavin went back to tell the cook before returning.

“Hey, what are you guys doing this weekend? Noah and I were thinking of having a poker night at the house. Braden and Wes are coming. You guys are welcome.”

“It’d have to be Sunday for us. Gavin and I both work Friday and Saturday night.”

“I’m sure that’s workable. I’ll call Wes later and make sure that’s something they can do,” Noah told them.

Gavin smiled, feeling almost content for the first time in his life. He’d lost his job, and things were a mess with his family, but he was happy. He had a relationship that meant a lot to him and friends he enjoyed. Even the bar; who would have thought he’d enjoy tending bar? But he did. He loved the people, and was excited for the chance to bring good music here.

Music. That’s something he missed. Live bands in Creekside were one thing, but he still had an ache inside him because music wasn’t as big a part of his life as it had been.

“Oh, Braden mentioned you’re giving piano lessons to Jess at the fire house the other day. One of the other guys is interested for his son. He wants to play guitar. Did Braden ask you about it?” Cooper leaned on the bar.

“No…he didn’t.” Private lessons wasn’t something he put a lot of thought into doing. Jessie was one thing since she was Braden’s little girl. If he decided to take more clients on, he would have to make more plans on going about it the right way.

Mason leaned close to his ear. “Do it. You want to. I can see it.”

And he did. He missed instructing. It was a part of him—teaching—more than he’d realized. Just as Gavin was about to answer, the phone rang. Something made him turn and watch Mason as he sauntered over and answered it. It took less than five seconds for the smile to fall from his face.

Gavin’s stomach dropped to the floor as he made his way over to his lover.

“I’ll be right there.” Mason hung up the phone and looked at Gavin. “It’s my dad. He had a stroke.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“I have to go.” Mason patted his pocket to make sure his cell was there before he headed for his office to get his keys.

“Do they know anything? Is he okay?” Gavin walked right at his heels.

“He’s alive. They’re at the hospital. That’s all I know.” He unlocked his office with the work keys and then grabbed the others from his drawer. Christ. A stroke. He could have died. Maybe he still would. And I’ve treated them like shit. He raised me and loved me and I’ve been a fucking child over things that didn’t matter.

Mason was already out his office door when Gavin spoke. “Maybe you shouldn’t drive. Let me get my stuff. I’ll take you.”

“No.” Mason shook his head. “The bar. I need you to take care of the bar. There’s nothing you can do for me in Denver.” As soon as the words left his mouth he realized how they sounded. “Shit. Not that you don’t—”

“I don’t need you to coddle me, Mason. I’m a big boy. I get it. Call me when you get there.”

Thank you. It meant a lot to him that Gavin understood. “I will. You know how to count down the register at night and everything, right? There are numbers in my drawer if you need help. Shit. I don’t even have much help for you.” He’d run on barebones staff since he opened. Not because he couldn’t afford it, but because the bar was his. It was Mason’s responsibility, and he wanted to do this on his own.

“Go. I have it under control.”

Mason nodded, hoping Gavin saw the appreciation on his face, and then he ran to his SUV. The tires squealed as he pulled from the parking lot and onto the street.

Mason’s heart punched wildly against his chest the whole drive. Stroke. His father wasn’t old—in his fifties—and yet he’d seemed under the weather the last few times Mason saw him. And now he’d had a stroke. The thought made his pulse go faster, harder.