Page 123 of Something Like Winter

this behavior.

Tim hid his smile, splashing the remaining foam from his face before

heading for the hallway. “Come on. If I’m going to risk my life

defending my home—and my vegetables—I want a witness.” “Wait!” Ryan darted into the bedroom, returning with a cell phone

that he held before him like a crucifix. “I’ll take photos. We can use them

in court.”

“Good idea.” Tim marched downstairs like he had something to

prove. When he entered the kitchen, Marcello was already perched on a

bar stool, glass of champagne in hand.

“Well!” he breathed, eyeing Tim in his towel. Then he noticed Ryan.

“Well, well!”

Tim charged him, which took Marcello by surprise, but as soon as he

was close enough he gave him a hug that nearly knocked him off the

stool. Tim grinned. “Why are you always creeping around my house?” “Isn’t it obvious?” Marcello nodded at Ryan, who had stopped taking

photos and was now looking puzzled.

Tim gave basic introductions, not bothering to explain who was who.

The reasons Ryan was there were fairly obvious, and Marcello—there

was no explaining him.

“I came to drag you out of the house again,” Marcello said, “but I see

you have a very good reason for staying in.”

“What’s up? Another Eric Conroy fundraiser?”

“Not until autumn,” Marcello replied. “No, this one is a good ol’

fashioned shindig.”

Ryan perked up and came closer. “A party?”

“Theparty,” Marcello corrected. “My fiftieth birthday, in fact!” “Those are always fun,” Tim said coyly.

Marcello was shameless. “Indeed they are. This year I’ll be hosting

from home, and there will be more beautiful boys and bubbling booze

than ever.”

Tim nodded knowingly. “I’m sure there will be, but we sort of have

our own thing going here.”