Martin parked the car beside Anthony’s and walked around to the back of the house. He smiled to see Agnes as she looked over his garden and nodded her approval. He realized he was delaying the entrance. He wasn’t sure yet what he should say to Anthony, if he should even say anything. The back door opened and Anthony stood with hands on his hips. He was wearing an apron.
“I might have known you two would be out back, conspiring over your grow-op, or whatever it is you have out here.” He frowned at Martin. “Is that a briefcase in your hand? You do still have a few weeks of recovery time. You don’t have to go proving how butch you are by working when you’re ill.”
Martin looked up at him and tried to pull back his grin. “And you don’t have to go proving how butch you are by wearing a frilly
