Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

we almost done shopping?” I whispered. “Because I would love to take you back to the hotel and—”
    “ Excuse m e .” The voice was loud and startled us both. I automatically pulled away from Cole, looking over to see who had disturbed us. It was a man in a suit, probably in his fifties, and the look of disapproval on his face was obvious. “Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?”
    I felt my face turning red. I wasn’t usually one for public displays of affection, and I was embarrassed that I had let my hormones get the best of me. I was actually about to apologize. But then I glanced at Cole, and I saw that not only did he not look apologetic, he looked positively annoyed. He flipped his hair out of eyes, his head cocked back a little bit in that way that allowed him to look down his nose at just about anybody.
    “Honey, I assure you, we don’t need your help with anything.”
    The man—his name tag said “Frank”—bristled noticeably. “This is a gallery —”
    “I know , honey,” Cole said, and I had a feeling he had intentionally used the pet name again just to annoy Frank more. “I’m not blind.” He actually put one hand on his hip, and cocked his hip out, and I suspected it was all Frank could do to maintain his composure.
    “My partner and I are trying to decide which piece will look best in our bedroom.” He turned to me, and I was trying not to look too startled at being referred to as his partner. “Isn’t that right, muffin?” He winked at me. “Which do you think? The snow or the water?”
    “I don’t know,” I stammered, trying not to laugh at his over-the- top behavior. “It’s really your call. Muffin .” And I could tell that tickled him to no end.
    “Perhaps,” Frank said curtly, “you’d like to see the price lis t before you decide?”
    “Excellent idea, honey,” Cole said. “Why don’t you run along and fetch that for me? We’ll wait right here.”
    Frank had obviously expected the mention of a price list to send us on our way, and being told to “run along and fetch” didn’t seem to be sitting well with him either. But he was professional enough to do his job, even if he couldn’t quite manage to hide his biases as he did it.
    “Of course,” he said, with a forced smile. He walked away, leaving us alone again for the moment.
    Half of Cole’s affectation dropped away as soon as Frank was out of sight. “What a pompous ass,” he mumbled. “Now I suppose I’ll have to buy something.” He turned to me. “Maybe we can compromise and get one of the above-water seascapes.”
    “It’s your house and your money,” I said. “Get the one you like.”
    But I wasn’t actually thinking much about the pictures. I was thinking about him.
    I remembered months before when I had taken him to the theater, and we had fought afterward about his flamboyance. I remembered thinking that I had seen him turn the levels of it up and down. Yet for some reason, I hadn’t ever realized exactly what it was that triggered it.
    At the time I had thought it odd that it would be worse when we were away from home. After all, it made more sense to me to be low-key when we were in public.
    Why had I never realized before that, more than anything, his affectation was a defense mechanism? The more uncomfortable he was, the more he added to it, like pieces of armor. The gestures and the attitude, all just used to put more distance between himself and whoever it was that was threatening him. That was why, when we were at home, it all seemed to fall away. Because he was comfortable there and he didn’t need it. But when he really had his guard up, as he did now with Frank, it was amplified. And that night with my father, and the next evening at the theatre, my own disapproval had probably only made things worse.
    Frank reappeared then with the price list. Cole took it and started looking it over. I glanced at it over his shoulder and tried to keep my jaw from dropping when I saw the prices. “So tell me, honey,” Cole said to Frank as he looked at the list, “do you work on commission?”
    Frank looked uncomfortable with the question but said, “We’re paid a flat salary, but I do receive a bonus for anything I sell, yes.”
    “And is there anybody else working today?”
    Frank’s cheeks started to turn a little bit red, and for the first time, he started to look a little bit worried. It apparently hadn’t occurred to him that his attitude could come