Free Bad Boyfriend by K. A. Mitchell Page B

shopping.” Eli’s voice had taken on a singsong affectation that was nothing Quinn had heard from him before but all too familiar to anyone who’d seen a stereotypical gay man on television. In a minute, Eli would start snapping his fingers. “Quinn’s closet comes in two colors: gray and grayish.”
    “Count me in for shopping,” Paula put in.
    “Me too.” Chrissy slid into her seat, handing off a complicated piece of baby equipment and the baby to Peter.
    He dragged an empty table over and put the carrier on it. Standing behind his wife, he shot Quinn a disgusted look.
    “Quinn hates shopping,” Alyssa said as if that was akin to hating puppies.
    “I know, right?” Eli added in that same tone. “Sometimes even I’m not sure he’s gay.”
    Peter’s chair made a grinding scrape as he dragged it out and took his seat. Unable to meet Peter’s gaze, Quinn looked to Dennis for help. Dennis, who’d had his back since the Academy, only stared like Quinn had lost his mind. All Quinn could hope for was that Roger’s selective deafness had kicked in.
    “The sweater looks very handsome on you, dear,” Claire said gently.
    “We’ll work on it,” Eli fake whispered to Alyssa.
    Quinn put his hand on Eli’s thigh as a warning.
    There was no salvation coming from the talkative women. Claire failed to offer her usual call to action about the latest health threat she’d discovered about online. Alyssa fought off a giggling fit, biting her lips, cheeks rounding like a chipmunks. Paula was occupied with a whining Faith who was flinging unwanted items from her salad onto the tablecloth.
    Crunching on a crouton, Quinn pushed harder on Eli’s thigh, praying it would keep him from leaping into the conversational void.
    With a smirk that deserved a punch to the jaw, Dennis said, “So how did you guys meet?”
    “Why don’t you tell him the story, baby?” Eli turned to face Quinn with a half-lidded expression that Quinn guessed was supposed to be romantic, but made Quinn think of the way Eli’s dark-rimmed eyes had looked when he came.
    Quinn jerked his chin in Faith’s direction. It wasn’t a complete cover. Their meeting wasn’t exactly fit for a nine-year-old’s ears.
    “Ah.” Alyssa winked. “We’ll talk later.” She gestured between herself and Eli.
    “You betcha.” Eli returned her wink.
    Wishing his hand was leaving dents on the brat’s ass instead of resting on his thigh, Quinn tried a pinch right above the inseam. He wasn’t sure he’d made an impression through the denim until Eli flinched.
    A phone buzzed, and Peter pushed away from the table enough to check his display before tucking the phone back into his case.
    “I didn’t know you were on call.” Chrissy turned toward her husband.
    Peter’s hand paused in the act of bringing a huge leaf of lettuce to his mouth. “I’m not. Force of habit.”
    A fireman could always be called in, Quinn knew well enough, but he hoped to God Peter wasn’t up to his old tricks with a brand-new baby who’d be the one suffering this time.
    “What do you do?” Eli asked.
    “City fireman,” Peter muttered. “I’ll bet you’re in school.”
    Eli shook his head. “I work for a newspaper.”
    “Paperboy?”
    “God, Peter. Anyone would think you were jealous,” Chrissy said with a light laugh.
    In the deafening silence that followed, Quinn missed his stab at a cherry tomato. It rolled off the plate, ricocheted off the basket of rolls and left a trail of dressing as it spun down to the far end of the table where Roger caught and ate it.
    “Actually, I’m a photographer.” Eli’s voice was cheerful.
    Claire seized the topic at last. “That’s wonderful. You know, now that Gabriel’s here, I want to get a new family portrait done.”
    Eli rested his fork and knife on the edge of the salad plate. “I don’t have a studio or anything. We do mostly digital work.”
    “That’s exactly what I want. The family has a webpage now, so it would be