Epilogue Marcus
One Month Later
“Good lord…” I breathed as I watched the back of the UPS truck open. It was full to the brim with boxes, each of them labelled in Xavier’s pristine handwriting. I turned to the driver. “Uh… how many of these are mine?”
He glanced at his tablet. “Uh… forty-seven.”
“Forty-seven?!” I looked back at my small two-bedroom house that couldn’t have been more than eleven hundred square feet. “I’m gonna need a bigger house…”
The driver shrugged, clearly not interested in my housing crisis. “Where do you want ‘em?”
“Just... inside, I guess,” I said, already dreading the tetris puzzle this was about to become. I unlocked the front door and stepped back as he grabbed the first dolly loaded with boxes.
By the time he’d finished, my living room looked like a warehouse.
Boxes were stacked three high in some places, creating a maze that left only narrow pathways to navigate.
I signed for the delivery, gave the driver a fifty-dollar bill, and watched the truck pull away, leaving me alone with what appeared to be Xavier’s entire life packed up and shipped to rural Texas.
I picked up the nearest box—labeled “Kitchen Essentials (Copper Cookware)”—and nearly threw my back out. Who the hell needed copper cookware this heavy? I set it down more carefully and spotted another labeled “Bathroom (Skincare—DO NOT FREEZE).”
A laugh escaped me despite my exhaustion. This was so quintessentially Xavier. Even his moving boxes had specific care instructions. Also, it was nearly June. Was he expecting an apocalyptic ice storm or something? Then again, after the tornado, he probably didn’t know what to expect.
I spent the next two hours just trying to create walkable paths through the house. The boxes seemed to multiply the more I moved them. By the time I’d cleared enough space to at least reach the kitchen and bedroom, my shoulders were screaming and sweat had soaked through my shirt.
My stomach growled, reminding me I’d skipped breakfast to be here for the delivery. I glanced at my watch. It was just past noon. Dolly’s diner would still be serving lunch, and I could really go for something greasy and deep-fried.
I grabbed my keys and headed out, my truck a welcome reprieve from the box fortress that had become my home. The drive to the dinner gave me a couple minutes to think about what all those boxes meant. Xavier was really doing this. He was really moving here, to Sagebrush, to be with me.
It all still felt surreal.
I pulled into the parking lot of Dolly’s diner and killed the engine, sitting there for a moment longer than necessary.
Through the window, I could see the usual lunch crowd—ranchers, a few truckers, some of the construction crew still working on rebuilding after the tornado.
Normal. Familiar. Everything Xavier’s boxes weren’t.
The bell chimed as I pushed through the door, and Dolly looked up from behind the counter. Her eyes narrowed immediately.
“You look like hell,” she announced, loud enough for half the diner to hear.
“Good to see you too, Dolly,” I said, sliding onto a stool at the counter. Every muscle in my body was protesting the movement.
“Let me guess,” she said, pouring me a coffee without asking. “Xavier’s stuff arrived.”
Word traveled fast in a small town, but this was impressive even by Sagebrush standards. “How did you—”
“Saw the UPS truck headed toward your place this mornin’, sugar. It was ridin’ real low.” She set the mug in front of me. “Figured it had to be his things. That boy doesn’t strike me as the type to pack light.”
“Forty-seven boxes,” I said, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic. “Forty-fucking-seven.”
Dolly let out a low whistle. “Well, you wanted to play house with a city boy. This is what you get.”
“You’re happy he’s movin’ here,” I said. “Don’t try to deny it. He’s grown on you.”
“He’s a right pain in the ass is what he is,” she muttered. But she just shook her head, a smile still on her face. “But I’ll be glad to see him again. He brings a little class to this dusty old town. That’s somethin’ we need.” She pulled out her order pad. “The usual?”
“Yeah. And make it a double order of fries.”
Her eyebrow went up. “That bad, huh?”
“I haven’t even started unpackin’ them yet.
I just needed them inside before someone decided to help themselves.
I still haven’t figured out who was behind all those thefts before the tornado.
But there hasn’t been another yet, so maybe they got scared off.
” I took a long drink of coffee, letting the caffeine start its work.
“Did you know Xavier’s got two boxes just for skincare products, Dolly? Two entire boxes.”
“Lord have mercy,” she said, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “When’s he gettin’ in?”
“His flight lands in Amarillo at four. I need to leave here by two-thirty to make it on time.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. “You’ve got time. I’ll get your food out quick.”
True to her word, Dolly had my burger and mountain of fries in front of me within ten minutes.
I ate mechanically, my mind already racing ahead to the airport pickup.
I hadn’t seen Xavier in person for three weeks.
It was the longest we’d been apart since we’d gotten together.
We’d done video calls every night, quite of few of which ended with us putting on a show for each other.
But it wasn’t the same as having him here, being able to touch him, kiss him… fuck him.
“You nervous?” Dolly asked, refilling my coffee.
“What? No.” I realized I’d been bouncing my knee under the counter and I was half hard. “Maybe a little.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to be nervous about. That boy’s crazy about you.”
“I know that. It’s just...” I gestured vaguely with a fry. “This is real now, you know? He’s givin’ up his apartment in New York. Movin’ his whole life here. What if he regrets it?”
Dolly leaned against the counter, fixing me with that look she reserved for when someone was being particularly stupid.
“Marcus Webb, I have known you since you were in middle school, and I have never seen you this worked up over anythin’.
Not when you became sheriff, not durin’ that tornado, not ever.
” She pointed a finger at me. “That man is choosin’ you.
Stop questionin’ it and just be grateful. ”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “You’re right.”
“‘Course I’m right. Now finish your food and get out of here. You’ll want to shower before you pick him up. You smell like a horse’s ass, sugar.”
I couldn’t argue with that assessment. I polished off the rest of my lunch, left cash on the counter with a generous tip, and headed back to my house—or rather, Xavier’s box warehouse that happened to have my name on the deed.
The shower helped, washing away the sweat and some of the nervous energy.
I changed into clean jeans and the navy button-down Xavier had bought me last month, the one he said brought out my eyes.
Then I spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to get my hair to cooperate before giving up and just putting on my cowboy hat. He loved me in that hat anyway.
The drive to Amarillo always felt longer when I was anxious. The highway stretched out endlessly, flat prairie on both sides, the occasional oil derrick breaking up the horizon. I kept checking the time on my dashboard, even though I’d left with plenty of buffer.
I made it to the airport with twenty minutes to spare.
His flight was on time according to the arrivals board, so I positioned myself near the exit from the secure area where I could watch for him.
My heart was doing something ridiculous in my chest, hammering like I was sixteen again waiting for a prom date.
Then I saw him.
Xavier emerged from the crowd pulling a sleek black carry-on, looking completely out of place among the cowboys and oil workers in his fitted black jeans and a crop top that showed off a strip of his tanned stomach.
His eyes scanned the waiting area until they landed on me, and his whole face lit up.
“Marcus!” He abandoned his suitcase and launched himself at me.
I caught him easily, lifting him off his feet as he wrapped his arms around my neck. He smelled like expensive cologne and airplane recycled air, and when he kissed me, I didn’t care that we were in the middle of a crowded airport in Texas. I kissed him back like I’d been starving for it.
“Missed you,” he breathed against my mouth.
“Missed you too, baby” I said, finally setting him down but not letting go entirely. “How was the flight?”
“Long. Cramped. The man next to me ate tuna fish.” He wrinkled his nose. “But I’m here now, so I don’t care.” He looked me up and down, his smile turning mischievous. “You wore the shirt.”
“You like this shirt.”
“I love that shirt. It makes your shoulders look incredible.” He grabbed his suitcase handle. “Please tell me my boxes arrived? I’ve been stressed about it all week.”
“They arrived,” I confirmed, taking his suitcase from him. “All forty-seven of them.”
“Forty-eight, actually. One got delayed.” He fell into step beside me as we headed toward the parking garage. “I know it seems like a lot—”
“It is a lot.”
“—but I promise I’ll organize everything. You won’t even notice after a few days.” He paused. “Okay, you’ll definitely notice, but in a good way. Your house is about to have the best organizational system you’ve ever seen.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “My house is currently a fire hazard. I can barely get to the bedroom.”
Xavier’s eyes gleamed. “Well, we can fuck anywhere, so that’s not a big deal.”
I groaned, palming my half hard cock through my jeans as we walked. Just touching him was enough to set me off. But now that he was talking about sex all I could imagine was bending him over the tailgate of my truck and taking him right there in the parking garage.
“Having a little trouble?” Xavier grinned, pulling my hand away.
“N-No!” I lied. “I’m f-fine!”