Chapter 11

“It wasn’t exactly love at first sight.” Calvin laid down his spoon. “In fact, back in high school I thought he,” he pointed a thumb at Brock, “was a total asshole.”

Brock laughed. “I can’t deny it. I was so deep in the closet I had wood splinters in my ass.”

“Gross, dad,” JJ groaned.

Milton snickered. “So when did you two fall in love?”

JJ rolled his eyes. His friend was such a sap.

The older men spent the next few minutes explaining how Calvin had gone back to Texas to sell his parents’ house because they’d retired to Florida, and how, after seeing the painted sign on the side of Brock’s truck he remembered that John Brockwell Sr. ran a construction business in the area, so called to get an estimate for fixing up the place.

“But instead of John Brockwell, Senior,” Calvin explained, “a total stud dressed in fancy cowboy gear showed up on my folks’ front porch and I knew, whatever price he asked, I’d give him the job.”

“I didn’t know that,” Brock admitted.