14. Chapter Fourteen #2
I gave the corn a nudge so it wouldn’t burn, and turned my attention to Sam. “I’m listening.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m not aromantic.”
“Yes.” Where is he going with this? “You’ve been very clear about your boundaries, Sam. I’ve tried to respect every one. If I’ve overstepped—”
“You haven’t.” He sighed. “You’ve been perfect. Maybe too perfect.” On that note, he strode into the house.
I rolled my eyes. Not that anyone was there to witness—but I had a point to make.
“There’s no such thing as too perfect.” I muttered the words as I shut the gas off.
The scent of cooked meat assailed me. You know this isn’t good for you.
Ignoring your health for the past month was a really bad idea.
Not being honest with Sam was even worse. Yeah, I was going to have to own that.
“Who’s too perfect?” Noah stood beside me with a pile of plates. “Sam said to hurry my ass.”
I blinked. “Exactly how fast—”
“Christian and I were standing by the door waiting for your heated discussion to come to an end.” He whistled.
Tibby bolted out the door, tore past us, and headed toward the lake.
“Hey.” She skidded to a halt, turned, and sauntered back.
I eyed Noah. “I thought you said she was trained.”
He laughed. “Come here, Tibby.”
She headed straight to him and plopped onto her butt.
I waved the spatula. “You did that.”
Another laugh. “I wanted to get your goat. So to speak. You fucked up, my friend.” He held out the plate. “Burgers.”
After a moment, I lifted each from the grill and put them on the plate. I did the same with the corn. “How bad?”
Noah whistled again. “When you screw up, you do so epically. Spectacularly. Don’t worry—I’m the same way.
I’ve had to apologize to Christian more than a few times over the years.
I’m good at being oblivious to important things.
He’s been working on training me. Especially because, if we’re blessed with kids, I won’t have the option of missing the important shit. ”
Christian exited the house with a bowl of salad tucked in one arm and a plate of buns in his other hand. He met my gaze. “Sam’s making you a tuna sandwich. You’re going to be grateful.”
I pressed a hand to my heart. “Easy one. I really don’t mind tuna.” I eyed the burgers. “I just prefer red meat.”
Noah nudged me. “Maybe Sam wants you around and healthy for a really long time.”
“I…uh—” I swallowed. “Okay. I sort of asked him to move in.”
Christian snickered. “That’s what’s got him so flustered. I don’t think you did a great job. I have to go get the salad dressing and condiments. Be right back.”
I scraped the grill. The sound hurt my ears, but I knew better than to let the fat congeal. “Is there a right way to ask someone to move in? My wife? She proposed.”
“Okay. Didn’t see that coming.”
“You and Christian…?”
“Just sort of figured it out. Of course, we were already living together. Once I got my head out of my ass, figured out how much I really did love him—both as a best friend and as a lover—then the rest came easily. You’ll remember that.” He pointed to me. “You were my best man.”
“I remember. Sam was there too.”
“Yes. And you didn’t connect then. In fact, nothing happened until Christmas. So, are you finally going to give me details? You were in my hallway, after all.”
“I would never—” I clammed up. I’d been about to say kiss and tell. I couldn’t remember how much I’d told either Noah or Christian. Even if I had said there’d been a kiss, bringing it up now felt wrong. “I think that needs to stay between Sam and me.”
Noah nudged me. “Good man. See? I think you’re already in love.” After dropping that little bomb, he headed over to the table. “Okay, if no one else is here in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to make a burger and eat it naked.”
I laughed.
Just as Christian and Sam emerged from the house.
Tibby made a beeline for Sam.
He held the plate above her head. “Sorry, girl. I know you love tuna, but this is for your daddy.” He met my gaze and arched an eyebrow.
“I can’t wait.” I put the spatula on the shelf, grabbed the plate of kebobs, and headed over to the table.
The next hour was…fun. We laughed, joked, talked seriously about Noah and Christian becoming foster parents, and then sat on the end of the dock and dipped our toes in the water. I offered everyone swimming trunks, but no one took me up on the offer.
Tibby, though, with her webbed feet, took a running leap off the end of the dock, swam back to shore, came up behind us, and shook herself off.
Everyone laughed.
We cleaned up and headed inside to find the kittens quite indignant at having been excluded from activities. Tibby joined them and, as she relaxed, they climbed all over her.
“We need to be going.” Noah tucked himself against Christian.
Who placed a kiss to his husband’s temple.
I extended my hand.
Sam grasped it.
We saw our friends off and stood by the front door long after their SUV was out of sight.
Tibby swished past my legs, found a patch of grass, and squatted.
I laughed. “Thank you for waiting until after our guests left. That was very delicate of you.”
Whether she actually understood me or not, she headed back into the house. Undoubtedly to play with her two new companions.
I squeezed Sam’s hand. “Shall we?” I gestured toward the house.
“We still have a lot to work out.” He gazed at me with those fathomless dark-brown eyes.
“Yeah. We do. But for now…can we take a nap? I’m exhausted.”
His scowl soon morphed into a smile. “Yeah, we can do that.”
We went into the house.