Mystic Man by E.J. Russell

Author:E.J. Russell [Russell, E.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64080-639-9
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2018-06-22T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter SEVEN

AARON STARED out the window, fascinated, as Cody drove through the New Haven streets. “You know, I’d heard about the Yale Art Gallery, but it looks even weirder in person. I mean a rectilinear windowed box grafted onto stone block gothic? It’s like passive-aggressive conjoined twins with wildly different fashion sense.”

“Yeah. Don’t get Eliza started on that. She has feelings.” Cody glanced in the rearview mirror. “You okay back there, munchkin.”

“Uncle Cody.” Kaya looked up from her tablet to glare at him. “I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not a munchkin.” He shot a mischievous glance at Aaron and mouthed munchkin. “You know,” Cody said as he navigated the nest of one-way streets, “you’re not the first person to run away to Connecticut.”

Aaron returned to his rubbernecking, chest tightening. “I didn’t run away.”

“Dude. We already know you weren’t running to something—at least not something concrete. Once you figured out which way was Connect-i-cut, you hopped on a plane and split.”

Aaron sighed, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “Fine. I was running away. But when I saw Wayne picking out rings after refusing to consider the possibility with me…. Well, this camel’s back wasn’t strong enough for that particular straw.”

“So you asked him to marry you and he turned you down?”

“No. I asked whether he’d ever thought about getting married, and he said never.”

Cody turned another corner. “You realize that’s not the same thing, right? Maybe he was waiting for you to pop the question so he could think about it?”

Aaron stopped drumming his fingers and gripped his knees instead. “How did we get on this subject?”

“We were talking about Connecticut as an escape hatch.”

“Okay. I’ll bite. Who else ran away to Connecticut?”

“Whalley, Goffe, and Dixwell.”

Aaron turned in his seat and caught a smirk lifting Cody’s lips. “Who?”

Cody scoffed. “And you call yourself a historian.”

“Cut me a break.” Aaron kept his tone tart, but the tension eased across his shoulders, as it always did under Cody’s light-heartedness. “I’ve been researching kangaroos for the last month.”

He waved one hand as if batting Aaron’s words away. “Excuses. If you’d spent five minutes on Connecticut research before you ran, you’d know that Whalley, Goffe, and Dixwell were three of the regicide judges who signed Charles I’s death warrant. When Charles II was crowned, England was suddenly a little too hot for them—as was Boston, where they first landed. They hid out here.” He jerked his thumb to the left, toward an obviously busy—and very oddly configured—intersection. “In fact, three major streets in New Haven are named for them. We put up freaking monuments to them. We Connecticaners”—he stuck his nose in the air, putting on a fake posh accent—“spit in the face of royal retribution. They—” Cody glanced in the back seat where Kaya was bobbing her head along to a song on her tablet. “Hmmm. Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about them in front of her.”

“We learned about them in kindygarden, Uncle Cody.”

“You did?” He glanced in the rearview mirror again. “What do you

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