Jack had, among his other calls, contacted his father to ask him about Chad. As he knew he would, his dad had readily agreed.
He knew, however, as he opened the trunk of his car to take out the duffle bag his new lover had packed, Chad was less than thrilled with the idea. He smiled and waved his hand to indicate he should precede him up the walkway to his dad’s house.
The house, in the suburb of Thousand Oaks, was where he’d grown up as a kid. His father had commuted to his job as a Los Angeles police detective from there. It was still an unassuming house on a small, quiet cul-de-sac with only a handful of neighbors.
“Are you sure this isn’t a huge imposition?” Chad asked him for the fourth time since they got in the car to drive over.
“Positive. I talked to my dad and he’s thrilled.”
