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“That’s it!” Nick collapsed on the couch that was still sitting in the middle of the disorganized living room and pulled at his sweaty t-shirt. “I’m never moving another piece of furniture as long as I live!”

“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?” Howie teased. “Who’s going to move all of your crap out of your – I mean Lauren’s house?”

Nick saw his friend cringe at his mistake, but he was beyond the point where he felt liking making a big deal out of it. At first, he had been absolutely livid about the fact that Lauren had claimed the house; the house in Franklin that he had lovingly purchased for the two of them. It had seemed so unfair in the beginning, but he was over it now. The pain was still there, and he was sure that it would be there for a long time to come.

Nick still couldn’t believe that he and Brian were in a similar situation; alone and desperately trying to figure out how to present themselves to the world as single men. The only difference was that Brian had Baylee to care for and to worry about. At least Nick had been spared the hardship of having to explain to a child why he or she was now the product of a broken home.

“I’m sure that Nick will hire someone to move his stuff. Like a sane person.” Kevin pointed out. “Brian, I know that you’re desperate to blend into the neighbourhood like a normal guy, but this was a bit much.”

“What?” Brian opened his eyes wide in mock confusion. “I don’t understand the problem. You guys helped me move, so I bought you all pizza and beer. Isn’t that what normal people do?”

“It’s what poor, starving college students who have a few sticks of furniture from IKEA do.” AJ shot back. “It’s not what multi-millionaires who have custom-made, solid wood furniture do.”

“Well, I don’t want anyone to find out that I’m a multi-millionaire.” Brian retorted. “That’s the point.”

“I’m pretty sure that your neighbours are going to figure it out as soon as they see your face.” Kevin mumbled. “All it’s going to take is one stay-at-home mom to see you in the driveway and the whole neighbourhood will know that a Backstreet Boy has moved in down the street.”

“You don’t have to be so stereotypical.” Brian mocked. “How do you even know that any of my neighbours are stay-at-home moms?”

“I’m currently a stay-at-home mom.” Leigh pointed out. She grabbed a piece of pizza and took a large bite while staring heatedly at Howie. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“You’re a great mom.” Howie reassured her. “A very pretty one. I mean, you’re a very HOT mom. That’s what you are; a hot mom.” Howie chugged the rest of his beer as he hastily attempted to appease his now simmering wife. “I’m gonna need another one of these.” He muttered. He shook the empty bottle for emphasis and placed it on top of a nearby box.

“I think you’re going to need a lot more than just one.” Brian chuckled. He stood up with the intent of bringing Howie another beer, but he was distracted by a soft knock at the door.

“Maybe it’s one of the neighbourhood moms.” Leigh teased. “I sure hope that she’s as hot as I am.”

Brian was still laughing as he pulled open the door. In the background, he could hear Howie hurriedly trying to reassure his wife that she was more than just an attractive baby-maker. His grin stretched even wider as he caught sight of the elderly couple standing on the porch.

“Hey y’all!”

“Hi, dear. I’m Lorna and this is Ralph.” The elderly woman introduced herself and her husband. “We saw you moving in this afternoon and we just wanted to come over and introduce ourselves. We live just over there.”

Brian followed the woman’s outstretched arm and took in the sprawling bungalow across the street. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it had nice curb appeal and a large wrap-around front porch. The yard was well maintained and there were more than a few garden gnomes dotting the property. A large, gray Buick was parked in the driveway next to an ornate, custom-made mailbox.

“I’m Brian.” Brian introduced himself. “It’s so nice of y’all to come over and say hello.”

“It’s our pleasure, dear.” Lorna continued. “We made you a casserole. I’m sure that your wife won’t feel like cooking until she has everything unpacked.” She thrust a flowered Corning Ware dish into Brian’s hands and smiled. “Is the lady of the house here? We’d love to meet her.”

Brian accepted the dish; he was surprise to discover how heavy it was. “Actually, I’m ...”

“Is that chicken casserole?” AJ pushed his way into the doorway and pulled the dish out of Brian’s hands. “With scalloped potatoes and grated cheese on top? I haven’t had chicken casserole since I lived with my mom!” He flashed a massive grin at Ralph and Lorna. “Thank you so much!””

“Oh, you’re – you’re welcome.” Ralph stuttered.

Brian watched as the couple exchanged a confused glance. He could see them taking in AJ’s appearance; their eyes flickering back and forth between his out of control beard and the tattoos that littered his arms. It was clear that they were more than a little taken aback.

“Are you two ...? We didn’t realize.” Ralph sputtered. “Of course there’s nothing wrong with your choice.”

“No!” Brian hurriedly launched into an explanation. “We’re just friends. He was helping me move. I have a son. He’s almost eleven. I’m just recently divorced.” He was well aware of the fact that he was rambling rather incoherently, and he flashed what he hoped was a sane looking smile at Ralph and Lorna.

“Oh. So, you’re just friends?” Lorna returned her eyes to Brian as she processed the information. “You said that you’re divorced and a single dad?”

“That’s right.” Brian nodded. “This is my friend ... Alex.”

“It’s nice to meet you both.” AJ smiled broadly. He shifted the casserole dish to his left arm and extended his right hand to both Ralph and Lorna. The two of them accepted his outstretched hand in turn; Lorna still eyeing his tattoos rather warily.

“It’s a shame that you’re not, you know, a couple.” Ralph chuckled. “There’s this really lovely pair down the street; Chris and Shane. They’re young like you guys. You would all probably get along really well.”

“Chris and Shane have lots of friends, Ralph.” Lorna admonished her husband. “Besides, I’m sure that Brian will meet them eventually.”

“Yeah, sure, I look forward to meeting everyone on the street.” Brian grinned. “It will be a nice way for Baylee to meet some of the other kids.”

“Of course, dear, we’ll encourage everyone to drop by once you’re all moved in.” Lorna promised. “Anyways, we won’t keep you. We know that you have a lot of unpacking to do. Just heat the casserole for twenty minutes at 375oF. Don’t worry about returning the dish, I’ll pop over and pick it up in a few days.”

“Thanks, again!” AJ shouted as the two of them headed back across the street.

Brian waited until Ralph and Lorna had safely set foot on their driveway before he closed the door and went back inside. He could hear AJ puttering around in the kitchen, and he knew that Lorna’s casserole was not going to make it to dinner tomorrow night.

“So, you and AJ, huh?” Nick smirked as Brian settled himself back on the couch. “I’m hurt that you guys hid it from us.”

“Don’t even start.” Brian warned. “I still don’t think that they’re entirely convinced that we’re not ... involved. Ralph wanted to set us up on a double date with Chris and Shane.”

“Who are Chris and Shane?” Nick raised his eyebrows.

“Apparently, they’re a lovely same-sex couple who live down the street.” AJ supplied as he walked back into the living room. “Casserole will be ready in twenty minutes.”

“Best first impression ever!” Kevin laughed. “At least they didn’t recognize you.”

“They’re like eighty years old.” Brian retorted. “I don’t think that our music is exactly their taste.”

“Maybe they have grandkids.” Howie offered. “Wouldn’t that be nice, Baylee? You could have someone to hang out with whenever they come to visit.”

“Whatever.” Baylee shrugged. He was fully engrossed in a tower-defence game that he had downloaded onto his iPad, and he didn’t even bother to look up when Howie addressed him.

“I think it would be nice.” Nick encouraged. “I always liked playing with the other kids on my street when I was growing up.”

“You were practically famous by the time you were my age.” Baylee shot back without taking his eyes off of the screen. “I bet you didn’t even know the names of the kids who lived on your street. Weren’t you already a Backstreet Boy by the time you were eleven?”

“I wasn’t famous when I was your age.” Nick corrected him. “I still had plenty of time to play basketball and stuff.”

“Whatever.” Baylee repeated.

“Bay, you know that I can’t stand it when you say ‘whatever’.” Brian sighed. “It’s rude.”

“Whatever.”

Nick suppressed a smirk as he stole a quick glance at Brian. His friend was positively seething on the other side of the room. Clearly, both father and son were having a hard time adjusting to the pre-teen phase of Baylee’s life. It was likely that the divorce wasn’t helping the situation, but Nick sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to point that out to Brian.

“Baylee, I’m dead serious ...” Brian began to raise his voice, but his threat was cut short by a sharp knock on the front door.

“More visitors?” Rochelle wondered; incredulous. “People around here sure are friendly.”

“I’ll get it.” Nick offered. He pushed himself off of the couch, his over-exerted muscles aching in protest. “Maybe it’s another old lady brining you food. Hopefully, it’s home-made cookies this time.”

“That reminds me; I should check on the casserole!” AJ leapt from his seat with surprising agility. “You’re all going to have some of it, right?”

“I have never seen that man so excited about food.” Rochelle muttered as AJ retreated to the kitchen. “I better learn how to make a chicken casserole.”

The knock sounded again, but it was more urgent this time.

Brian rolled his eyes as Nick walked past him. “Please don’t give anyone else the wrong idea. I’m already going to have a hard enough time explaining AJ’s presence the next time that I see Ralph and Lorna.”

“I make no promises.” Nick quipped. He strode over to the door and yanked it open. “Welcome to the Littrell residence!”

“Mr. Littrell?”

Nick stared back at the two women who were standing on the porch. Actually, his eyes were firmly locked on the girl who was standing slightly behind the lady who had spoken. She was young, probably in her early thirties, if he had to warrant a guess. She was slim with a pretty face and wide, pale blue eyes, but it was her hair that had captured his attention. It was pin straight and a unique shade of red; darker and more auburn, like the colour of cinnamon. The colour was so unusual that Nick wondered for a second if it was nothing more than a well-executed dye job, but the long strands cascaded over the girl’s pale skin and he knew by her complexion alone that the colour was her own.

“Mr. Littrell?”

Nick tore his eyes away from the red-haired girl and focused his attention on the older lady. She was staring back at him expectantly; her lips pursed together in annoyance. Just beyond middle-aged and heavy-set, she was a stark contrast to the younger woman who stood behind her.

“Bri – errr - Mr. Littrell is inside.” Nick mumbled. He was practically forcing himself to keep his eyes on the plump, gray haired woman. “I’m Nick – Nick Carter.”

“I’m Peggy Peach.”

The older woman extended her hand and Nick shook it quickly; surprised by the strength of her grip. “It’s nice to meet you.” He offered.

“This is Kayla Ford.” Peggy gestured at the attractive redhead.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Kayla.” Nick grinned. He offered his hand to the young woman and she extended her slender fingers in response, shifting the clipboard that she was carrying to her left hand.

Nick looked into her eyes as their hands touched, and he knew immediately that Kayla recognized him.

Her eyes twinkled knowingly, but she kept her expression neutral; a perfect poker face. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Carter.”

“We’re here to see Mr. Littrell.” Peggy continued. “We’re with Lexington C.P.S.”

“C.P.S.?” Nick reluctantly let go of Kayla’s hand and turned to Peggy in confusion.

“That’s right, Mr. Carter.” Peggy spoke slowly. “We’re with Child Protective Services. Is Mr. Littrell available?”