Free Valor on the Move by Keira Andrews

religious to appeal to voters than they actually were. Gay marriage had been on the backburner during his father’s election campaigns, and while Rafa had known his parents weren’t exactly riding a rainbow float in a Pride parade, he’d never expected… that .
    He knew it hadn’t been personal—how could it be when his parents didn’t know he was gay? But it had hurt him more than he’d ever thought possible. Then there’d been the guilt that if he’d come out before college, he might have influenced his father’s thoughts on the matter. Although surely not the Republican Party’s, and they were the ones making many of his father’s decisions when it came down to it. It was the way of politics. Thank God the Democrats had managed to kill the bill.
    Now it was almost over, and Rafa would be graduating and they’d all leave the White House. Maybe they could be a normal family again. Then he’d sit them down and tell them. Until then, he had to stick to the plan. The plan had worked all these years.
    Blowing out a long breath, he checked the time on his phone. It was still early, but he had basil to chiffonade.
 

     
    Glancing in the reflection of the microwave, Rafa smoothed a hand over his hair. He’d tamed it with pomade after his shower that morning as usual, but now he squinted critically. Was it too much? Maybe I should wet it a bit, or—
    “Oh my God,” he muttered. “This isn’t a freaking date. Chill.”
    The timer beeped, and he stirred the tomatoes and basil. He added the goat cheese before carefully putting it back in the oven. Lucky for him there’d been another casserole dish he could use. Then he checked the simmering ravioli, which he’d stuffed with caramelized onion and roasted Portobello mushrooms. It had occurred to him Shane might be a vegetarian, so he’d played it safe. The gorgonzola cream sauce was thickening nicely, and he stirred it, splashing a little onto the cuff of his dark green button-down. He swiped it off with his finger and popped it in his mouth.
    “Taste good?”
    “Jesus!” Rafa whirled around to find Shane filling the doorway. His heart thumped stupidly, and he smiled. “I guess you’ll be the judge of that.” He nervously patted his hands on his chinos. “It’s almost ready.”
    Shane checked his watch. “Great.”
    Rafa’s smile faded. “Sorry, do you have to get back downstairs? I’m a little late. The timing is tricky—I’m still working on it. If you want to come back in a bit? Or we could just forget it. You’re busy.” Why had he even asked? The whole thing was dumb. His food probably sucked anyway.
    But Shane shook his head. “It’s fine. Besides, now that I smell it, there’s no way I can leave without having a taste.”
    “Cool. Alan won’t miss you?”
    Shane’s expression tightened. “He’s not here. Probably won’t be the rest of the week. His son’s in the hospital.”
    Rafa paused in stirring the sauce. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Is he going to be okay?”
    “Hopefully. He has a rare disease. Something to do with the immune system.” Shane was silent for a moment, as if weighing whether to say more. “It’s brutal. Alan’s daughter Jessica died of it last year.”
    “God. That’s awful.” Poor Alan. He seemed like a really nice guy. Dying kids was just the worst. Rafa shifted uncomfortably. “Tell him I hope his son will be all right.”
    “I will. Thanks.”
    The timer beeped again, and he slipped on his oven mitts and removed the casserole dish, depositing it onto a cooling board. “This needs to sit for a bit. Do you want to radio his replacement?”
    “It’s okay.” Shane still stood in the doorway. “We’re short-staffed, so I’m on detail by myself. We figured you weren’t likely to be running around in the middle of the night.”
    “Oh. Yeah, not really my thing. But why didn’t Brent tell me? I can make sure to stay in if that’s easier for you guys.” He’d seen Brent and Raul