Page 49 of Backward Motion

“I can’t remember the last time I wore heels,” Sam’s mother agreed. “And you, Connor, I’m used to seeing you in a pair of overalls.”

Connor looked dashing in his suit and tie—perfectly knotted, if Sam said so himself.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bryant,” he said. “I do what I can.”

“Please,” she said with a warm smile. “Call me Lily.”

Over her head, Connor waggled his eyebrows at Sam as if to say, “See?” Sam stifled a snort.

The invitation had specified formal attire, but by the looks of those gathering in the ballroom, that didn’t exactly translate to tuxedos and tails. Sam had worn his favorite emerald-green suit that he’d bought from a boutique in the West Village. He’d paired it with an icy-pink shirt, which he knew looked good yet was a rather bold choice for this neck of the woods. He’d gotten the suit before he started at his last job, wanting to splurge on something unique that would make him feel successful—worthy of the role. He brushed the fabric with his fingertips and wondered how he’d expected a piece of clothing to accomplish what a lifetime of hustling couldn’t.

While their mothers caught up, Connor stepped over to clasp Sam’s shoulder. It was such a macho gesture, two male coworkers greeting each other at a work function. No one would have guessed that mere hours ago, Connor had been on his knees, eagerly swallowing Sam’s cock.

“You look incredible,” Connor whispered out of earshot of the group, his eyes trailing down Sam’s body in a way that was much less platonic. “I mean, you always do, but this is next level.”

Sam tried to act as if Connor had just commented on the weather and not sent his heart fluttering with delight. “I figured this might be the only chance Oakdale gives me to pull out all the stops.”

Everyone took their seats at the table, and a server came around and filled their glasses with wine. Sam watched Maureen move Connor’s father’s glass out of reach.

“I can handle myself, Maureen,” Ian snapped and returned the glass to the edge of his plate. “She treats me like a child,” he muttered to no one in particular.

“Take it easy, Dad,” Connor said in an effort to smooth over the situation. His gaze flicked to Sam, almost in alarm. He had warned him after all. “How many categories are there again?”

Eager for an excuse to angle the conversation to lighter fare, Sam launched into a description of the award categories and the overall rundown of the evening. The prize-giving would happen first, followed by dinner and capped off with a brief presentation from the mayor.

“And you’re in the running for Up-and-Coming Businessperson?” Sam’s mother asked Connor, reaching for her wine.

“That’s right,” he replied. “But let’s not get our hopes up.”

“Well, whatever happens, I think all the nominees are winners.”

“That’s not really how it works, Mom,” Sam said, but she was already raising her glass in a toast.

“To Connor!”

Sam followed suit, and the rest of the table began clinking glasses.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Lily,” Connor said with a laugh. “But if we’re toasting, then it’s only fair I give credit to Sam. Despite doing my best to convince him otherwise, he pushed me to step up tonight,and it made me realize I have a lot to be thankful for in this town.” He raised his glass and gave Sam a private smile. “To Sam.”

Sam touched his glass to Connor’s and took a small sip. He thought of all the extravagant events he’d attended for work, when the Cristal champagne and gourmet hors d’oeuvres did little to distract him from the fact that the people he was with wouldn’t remember his name in the morning.

It didn’t matter that the wine he was drinking was watery, that the candles in the center of the table were battery operated, or that on the wall behind the stage was a giant portrait of Buffalo Bill Cody. What mattered was that the people seated around the tables genuinely gave a shit and had come together to support and celebrate each other. The thought filled him with an unfamiliar warmth.

The mayor appeared on stage, and the room fell into a hushed silence. Greenfield started by waxing poetic about how great Oakdale was and how proud he was to be hosting the awards. He introduced the judges and their credentials before jumping into the industry categories. Hospitality was first, with Jenny’s Diner coming out on top for the fifth year in a row. Then came Retail and Tourism. For a town devoid of most traditional landmarks, it was no surprise that the Amazing Maize—a corn maze open year-round at a nearby farm—won Best Tourist Attraction. Sam had seen the signboards along Main Street. Not a place he was in any hurry to visit. He’d watchedChildren of the Corntoo many times as a kid to be even mildly tempted.

There was a brief break, during which the servers returned to top up drinks, and then the mayor took to the stage and announced they were moving on to the individual awards. As Greenfield read the names of the finalists for each category, Sam saw Connor’s face tighten. Sitting across from him, Sam stretched out his leg under the table and bumped Connor’s foot with his own. Connor glanced upand flashed him a tense smile, and in that moment, Sam realized just how far he’d pushed him. He’d well and truly put Connor out there.

Sam smiled back, but a lump lodged in his throat.

“Now we have the award for Up-and-Coming Businessperson—see what we did there?” The mayor ribbed with a cheesy grin. “So no excuses, ladies.”

Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes.How inclusive.

“And the nominees are Gareth Hogg of Barbershop Blues—”

Sam’s mom leaned in. “I wasn’t too impressed with the last cut Dad got there.”

“Mom,” Sam said, shushing her.