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couldn’t stop the chuckle. “They seemed great when I met them at your wedding. What’s the problem?”
    He cleared his throat. “They like staying at the house with us instead of at a hotel.”
    “So you’re not getting… any.” I snickered.
    “That’s right,” he said not so cheerfully.
    Lazlo, former wild child, former loner, who no longer drank or smoked or did drugs or fucked for money, also refused to have sex in a house with paper-thin walls where guests could hear him make love to his new husband. No ring on his finger, even with a diamond as big as my head, would sway him.
    “He doesn’t want to offend them,” I said graciously.
    “Have you looked at him lately?”
    I had, and so, I knew, had every man and woman in town. Lazlo had always been gorgeous, striking, with that smoldering beauty that made you think he should be on magazine covers, but now, loved and cherished by Britton, he had bloomed into something else entirely. The confidence that had before been all bravado and swagger was now simply there . He was self-assured because he was loved, and that, he’d never been before. Only the wedding ring kept people from throwing themselves at him morning, noon, and night, as well as getting a look at his husband. Britton was nothing to scoff at, himself.
    “I can—” Britton cleared his throat. “—barely keep my hands off him, and my parents… are in my house, having the best time hanging out and talking.”
    “And he loves being part of a family,” I surmised. “Am I right?”
    He grunted miserably.
    “Well, they have to go home eventually.”
    “They’re looking into getting a house here.”
    I nodded, trying not to laugh.
    The noise of disgust he made as he walked around me heading for home was funny. Katie waved back at me and then leaned over the top of Britton’s head. No matter what he said, he was happy to have his family there, too, even if his parents were putting a crick in his sex life.
    I was surprised when I reached the gate in front of my house to find Blake, the other doctor in Roark’s office, on my front steps.
    “Hey,” I greeted as I lifted the gate latch and gazed up at him.
    “Sorry to just show up,” he apologized. “I tried to get you on the phone today, but every time I called, whoever answered at the station said you were out on a call.”
    “Okay.”
    “And I don’t have your cell number.”
    Why would he? We weren’t friends. “So what’s going on, Blake?”
    He stood and came down the steps to me. “Have you heard from Roark?”
    “No, I haven’t.”
    He nodded. “Did he tell you anything about his grandmother or the vineyard in Kentucky?”
    “They have vineyards in Kentucky?” This was news. “I thought there were only vineyards in California.”
    “Your wine education is sorely lacking,” he said condescendingly.
    It was really no wonder that most people just wanted to dropkick him. “What’s going on, Blake?”
    He walked toward me, stopping just a few feet away. “Roark’s grandmother passed last weekend, and she lived out in a vineyard in Kentucky, out in Midway, so that’s where he went.”
    “Oh, I thought he went to Grosse Pointe.”
    Blake shook his head. “No, he went to Kentucky, and he’s been there all this time. Normally he calls just to give me a heads-up, but not this time. And he was supposed to be back yesterday, but again, no call, e-mail, nothing.”
    “Okay,” I said, looking at him, not sure what this had to do with me or why he was at my house at seven on a Friday night.
    “I have no idea what’s going on with him.”
    I was quiet, thinking there was more.
    “Well?”
    “Well, what?”
    Blake threw up his hands. “Have you heard from him or not?”
    “Why would I have heard from him?”
    “Because he was all excited.”
    I was so lost. “I’m sorry?”
    He seemed surprised. “You guys had a date, right?”
    Fellatio on his couch could not be classified as a date. “No.”
    “No?”
    “No,”