Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-one
COLBY
Colby sat on the porch in the late afternoon sunshine and tried to relax. Tristan was at school, and everyone else had scattered after breakfast, to do whatever they did. Colby had been left behind with nothing but silence and sunlight and too much space in his head.
He’d tried to stay busy. The outbuilding was cleared, and Christian was waiting on lumber for the next stage, so that was off the table.
Instead, he cleaned the kitchen and unloaded the dishwasher.
He did laundry and cleaned Tristan’s bathroom and the hall bathroom, right down to folding towels that hadn’t technically needed it.
He didn’t know how to stop moving.
Halfway through the afternoon, Jesse had shown up and taken him out to meet the horses, who’d need to get used to the new wolf in their midst. It had all gone well, until Missy’s foal got curious.
Colby had been lying there, tail wagging low and friendly, trying to look as non-predatory as possible. The foal had responded by trotting over and sinking his teeth into the tempting, bushy tail.
Colby yelped and leapt forward, but the foal had braced his long legs and pulled back, obviously thinking this was the best game ever.
He looked set to spend the rest of the afternoon trotting along behind Colby, huffing happily through his nostrils as his teeth remained firmly clamped to his prize.
When Jesse finally stopped laughing, he stepped in to separate them, and Colby beat a hasty retreat. Damn horses. He knew there was a reason he didn’t like them.
After that, he was at a loss. There was no one to tell him what to do, or what not to do. He tried to keep himself busy, sweeping the house of the wolf hair that lurked in every corner. If VIPs were about to visit to check out Jesse’s Argent status, the place needed to be respectable.
Afterward, he picked a book at random from the shelves and carried it out to the porch.
The late afternoon sun was warm on his face, but he was tense and unsettled.
His wolf was calm, and he knew he should follow its example—he was safe and free.
He just didn’t know what to do with either of those things.
He checked the time on his phone and felt the same, almost absurd pleasure he experienced every time he touched it.
He had no orders. No schedule. No one checking over his shoulder and waiting for him to fail. It was uncomfortable.
The back door creaked behind him, and a familiar backpack dropped with a soft thud. Colby looked up and saw Tristan’s smile—wide and warm, brighter than sunshine.
“Hey,” Tristan said.
Colby didn’t have time to answer because Tristan was already in his lap, knees bracketing his hips, mouth on his like he’d been thinking about it all day.
When they parted, Tristan leaned in, their foreheads resting together. “Miss me?”
Colby swallowed. His hands rested on Tristan’s hips, still scarcely able to believe this wasn’t a dream.
“Always,” he said, and it sounded like something sacred.
Tristan’s weight in his lap, his scent in Colby’s lungs, his smile like sunlight—Colby held onto him. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to.
Tristan’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Did you do laundry while I was gone?”
“...Maybe.”
“Did you fold the towels into weird little rolls again?”
“They weren’t weird. They were military standard.”
“They were weird.” Tristan kissed him again, grinning against his mouth. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured. “But you’re my mate, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”
Colby huffed a soft laugh. “You might if that foal gave me fleas. Or lice. Or rabies—I’m not ruling anything out.” He seemed to have caught Tristan’s habit of dramatic escalation.
Tristan grinned wider. “Oh, now that is a story I have to hear.”
Colby smiled. Not just because of the conversation, or the sunshine, or Tristan’s warmth pressed against him—but because this was what safety felt like. It meant he could laugh. Argue. Fold towels however he wanted.
It meant this.
And he wanted it. All of it. Every damn day.
Tristan kissed the tip of his nose. “I thought about you all through fluid dynamics today, by the way. Especially during the part where Professor Mendez started drawing vortices and I realized your hair absolutely follows a logarithmic spiral when it gets damp.”
Colby blinked. “That sounds unlikely.”
“It’s not. I’ll show you the equation.”
“Please don’t.”
Tristan beamed. “Too late. I already saved a screenshot. Also, there was this bit about laminar flow and I started wondering how we could get Chaos to sit still long enough to test water resistance with her horns.”
Colby tipped his head back, laughing. “And I’m the weird one?”
“I’m visionary,” Tristan said. “Also, I missed you. And I brought cupcakes.” He gestured toward his backpack like it held holy relics.
“Chocolate?”
“Triple chocolate, and red velvet with extra frosting. You get first pick. Obviously.”
Colby’s stomach did a little flip, and it had nothing to do with sugar. “Love you,” he said quietly, and those words didn’t even begin to express how much.
Tristan kissed him again, slower this time. Then he pulled back with a happy sigh and rested his head against Colby’s shoulder. “Love you too,” he murmured.
“Even with the towel folding?”
Tristan nodded solemnly. “Especially with the towel folding. It’s like living with a scarily efficient housekeeper and a hot professional goat wrangler at the same time. Peak fantasy.”
Colby wrapped his arms tighter around him. Not everything was easy. Not yet. But this? This was perfect.
This was what he’d fought for. And he’d won.