Page 5 of Julian Shared (Secret Lives of Hot Twinks #2)

I flip the vegan patties and place them aside so they stay warm but don’t get burned. We’re running low on hot dogs, so I get some more started. While I grill, I make small talk and joke with everyone who wanders by and gratefully accept a beer someone gives me.

Gotta stay hydrated to keep things fired up, yeah?

Though I’m not the only one seeking hydration. People have finally entered the pool. There’s a series of splashes followed by a bunch of shrieks joy. And some of those people are very, very small.

“Julian?” I call him over with a crook of my finger. Julian takes his sweet, sweet time detaching from the group and returning to my side.

“Yes, dear?” he smiles.

I nod my head towards the pool with an amused smile. “What’s with the kids in our pool?”

“They are a strategic acquisition.”

I shoot Julian a hard look until he continues on with a sigh. “I borrowed them from their mother on the next lane over. You know the house with all those flamingos?”

“Sure do.” Everyone knows the house adorned with a flock of plastic flamingos. I didn’t know they came in colors other than pink.

“Well, they’re here while she takes a nap. I got them so we look more…family-friendly.”

“You improved our optics on the off-chance the commander shows up?”

The gaggle of children jumping in and out of the water are brown-haired. Each one sporting deep tans from the sunshine. If you squint from a distance, they almost look like they could be related to me.

And if you don’t notice their blue eyes.

Before I can decide whether to praise or scold Julian for the last-minute ruse, he gets exactly what he planned and plotted for.

The post commander walks out onto our deck, still dressed in uniform with his cap held under his arm. Shit. He lifts his hand to shield his eyes as he scans the backyard. When he spots Julian and I by the grill, he makes his way right over.

“At ease,” the commander chuckles. “I can’t stay for long, I just thought I’d drop by. Thank you for the invite, Mr. Flores.”

Julian perks right up. He loves when folks call him mister Flores.

I didn’t have to ask him what he wanted to do with our surnames when we got married. Julian was more than happy to bury his father’s name and take mine.

“We’re so happy you could make it, even if it’s only to say hello. May I get you something to drink?”

“Sure, I’ll have some of that lemonade.”

He’s in for a treat. Julian squeezed those lemons by hand.

While he sips, we all chat. It’s light-hearted and surface-level fare.

I’m just an NCO, so I’ll admit I’m surprised as all hell I’m even a faint ping on the commander’s radar.

But he wishes us a happy anniversary, compliments our home, and asks me just enough questions that I get the distinct impression he’s trying to learn more about me to make some sort of judgment call.

“I’m glad I stopped by,” the commander quirks a smile. “I didn’t realize you were such a family man, First Sergeant Flores.”

He pats my back. Shit, that’s friendly.

“Sorry I can’t stay longer, but me and the missus are going to the VA hospital. Will deliver the good news on how much was raised at the bake sale today. Heard your mister’s muffins were a hit.”

Once the commander is gone, I shoot Julian a sharp look.

Julian shrugs, obviously pleased with himself.

“What? It worked, didn’t it? By the time the holidays roll around, your real brothers and sisters will be here visiting with their kids anyway.”

I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. This is why I married my boy. The sheer audacity of him sometimes.

◆◆◆

Manuel shows up just about the time the little ones are being herded out of the pool and back home. He doesn’t come empty-handed. He has a bottle of wine for Julian.

It’s the cheap shit. The type that puts a photo of grapes prominently on the bottle so it can prove it’s made from real fruit.

“Oh, how…thoughtful,” Julian says with a smile so wide it looks painful. “I’ll go get some glasses for this.”

And what that means is he’s going to take the bottle inside and hide it somewhere.

As Julian wanders off, I nudge Manuel’s side. “I think I just got that promotion.”

“Shit, you lucky dog.”

It ain’t luck.

I smile fondly as I watch Julian weave through the party. Smiling. Laughing. He’s not the rose among thorns anymore, not in such a pleasant and safe place like this, but he’s the prettiest rose in the garden.

And he’s mine. All mine.

Not because I plucked him, but because we’ve grown together over the years.

“You ever have a vegan patty?” I ask Manuel, pointing my spatula at the stack I’ve kept warm on the side of the grill.

Manuel pulls a face, probably much similar to the one I made when Julian said the word vegan earlier. “Fuck no.”

“Wanna try one with me?” I grin. “I made ‘em spicy.”

“Fuck yeah.” Manuel doesn’t hesitate. We don’t bother with plates or even fixings. He picks it up and tears it apart with his fingers, shoving his mouth full as he passes me the other half.

“Hey, that’s not bad.”

“Ain’t bad at all,” I agree, eating it in quick bites.

“Could use some hot sauce though.”