Chapter 19 #2
Joshua ambled at Colin’s side, murmuring the names of each boat as they passed. “Driftwood Grace!” he said, pointing to a small, new-looking skiff. “I like that!”
“You like it because of our driftwood,” Colin observed, referring to a deeply-loved alcove of driftwood near Joshua’s family home along Lake Michigan, where Colin had first confessed his love.
Joshua smile up a him. “Maybe.” He turned back to the boats, then grabbed Colin’s arm.
“Look at that!” He pointed yet again, this time at a sleek white yacht, long and gleaming, its hull curved like it was slicing through water even while sitting still.
The name proudly etched onto the side: Therapy Session.
Colin bent over, clutching the railing, laughing too hard to speak.
Joshua stared, mouth open, then shook his head in amazement. “Perfect.”
“I’ll say,” Colin sputtered, then he grinned and pointed to a small inboard, barely holding its own amidst the larger craft. “Reckless Abandon?” Colin read with a faint snort. “Riiight.”
“No Bad Days,” Joshua announced, pointing at another smaller craft. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I kind of doubt it.” He leaned on the railing, looking out toward where the creek widened toward the bay.
“Different kind of quiet here,” he said.
Colin leaned against him. “Yeah.”
For a while, they didn’t speak.
The light had begun its slow shift toward gold. It caught in Joshua’s hair, traced the line of his jaw, turned the water into hammered copper.
Colin felt the words pressing against him.
“I almost didn’t want to do this,” he said finally.
Joshua didn’t look surprised.
“I know.”
Colin huffed softly. “That obvious?”
“You weren’t resistant,” Joshua said carefully. “Just… guarded.”
Colin nodded. The wind tugged lightly at his shirt.
“I kept thinking it would take more than it gave back,” he admitted. “Time. Energy. All of us split into pieces again.”
Joshua turned then, fully facing him.
“And?”
Colin looked over at the water at a sailboat easing past the marsh line.
“And maybe it does,” he said. “But that’s not the whole story.”
Joshua’s mouth curved faintly.
Colin continued, quieter now. “Knowing Emma will get the help and support she deserves. Watching Mark stand on his own feet. Dylan asking for a number instead of hiding. Hell, watching Nate at the Barter. That’s not me fixing anything.”
“No,” Joshua said.
“It’s… different.” Colin searched for it. “It’s… not being the answer. It’s being a bridge, or in Nate’s case, a proud parent.”
Joshua’s eyes softened.
“You’ve always been a bridge,” he said.
Colin shook his head. “When I wasn’t being a battering ram.”
Joshua laughed under his breath.
Colin reached for Joshua’s hand then, fingers sliding naturally into place. The familiar weight of his wedding band brushed against Joshua’s.
The water moved. The wind shifted.
“I’m glad we’re here,” Colin said.
Joshua squeezed his hand once. “Me too.”
Colin glanced sideways at him, something warmer moving beneath the words. “And I apologize for not being more supportive from the get-go.”
Joshua’s thumb brushed slowly across Colin’s knuckles.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said gently. “You were carrying more than you let anyone see just like you always do. I knew that.”
He lifted their joined hands and pressed a quiet kiss against Colin’s fingers. “I didn’t need you to be perfect. I just needed you with me.”
“You know,” Colin murmured, stepping a fraction closer, “Eastern Shore sunsets are statistically proven to improve marital satisfaction.”
Joshua raised an eyebrow. “Is that peer-reviewed?”
“Extensively.”
Joshua leaned in just enough that their shoulders touched fully.
“Then I suppose we should test the hypothesis.”
The kiss was quiet. Not hungry. Not desperate.
Just certain.
When they parted, the sun had dipped lower, and the harbor lights had begun flickering on one by one.
Colin rested his forehead briefly against Joshua’s.
“Kind of a pity we’ve got a fourteen-year-old in our room tonight,” Joshua said, a wicked grin glowing on his face.
“He can bunk with Trent,” Colin muttered.
Joshua snorted. “Trent’ll lodge a formal complaint.”
Colin’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I’ll file it with the rest of them.”
Joshua’s laugh softened into something warmer. “We’re not corrupting the youth of America, Campbell.”
Colin leaned in again, brushing his mouth lightly against Joshua’s temple. “Speak for yourself.”
Joshua turned just enough to meet his eyes. The grin faded, replaced by that steady, searching look he got when the teasing slipped away.
“You’re happier,” he said.
Colin didn’t deflect this time.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
The harbor lights trembled across the water, small reflections stretching and breaking with the tide.
“I didn’t realize how tight I was holding everything,” Colin said quietly. “Until I didn’t have to.”
Joshua’s thumb traced once over the back of Colin’s hand. “You don’t ever have to hold it alone.”
Colin exhaled slowly. “I know.”
They stood there another minute, shoulder to shoulder, watching the last strip of sun slip beneath the horizon.
Behind them, a door slammed somewhere near the inn. Nate’s voice floated faintly across the dock, arguing with Trent about seafood and structural integrity.
Colin smiled faintly.
“Come on,” Joshua said. “Let’s go be responsible adults.”
Colin glanced once more at the water. The open stretch of it. The quiet.
And together they turned back toward the inn—toward Alex, toward Onancock, toward whatever waited in the morning.
For tonight, that was enough. Water and gold light, and the steady sense of something moving forward without force.
When Joshua stepped from the shower, Colin was stretched out on the bed. One knee was up, and he held a legal pad in his right hand, its top propped against his bent knee. His reading glasses were on. His shirt was off.
“Oh my god,” Joshua muttered, drawing a quick, bewildered glance from his husband.
“Problem?”
Joshua heaved a deep, put-upon sigh. “I just hate being so goddamn predictable.”
Colin lowered his head, laughing softly.
“I mean, my god! After all these years, you’d think I’d be immune, or at least resistant.”
“To my overpowering sex appeal?” Colin asked in astonishment. “Nevaaahh!”
Joshua snorted. He hooked a towel and draped it around his waist, trying to ignore the way Colin’s chest still, even after all this time, fired every circuit in his brain that triggered desire.
“So, what’s the agenda tonight?” He crossed to the window and peered out at the lights from the boat dock as they reflected on the water.
The glass was warm from the day, sticky against his fingers.
Colin didn’t look up. “Agenda? Is this a production meeting? Are there scripts I’m unaware of?”
Joshua pressed his forehead to the glass. “I’m just saying, some of us like to be mentally prepared.”
He caught the flicker of Colin’s expression in the pane—a tilt of amusement, the crooked bottom lip Joshua kept falling for over and over again. “Mentally prepared… for dinner?”
“Or whatever comes after,” Joshua said, too quickly.
“You have something in mind?”
Joshua rolled his eyes, but could feel the betraying tick at the corner of his mouth. “Do you ever stop trying to seduce me with your”—he gestured, at a loss—“your entire freaking… deal?” His gaze softened for half a second before the heat took over.
There was Colin: strong, gorgeous, pecs still stubbornly hard despite years at a desk, freckles scattered across his upper arms. Aging like that should be illegal, thought Joshua.
Colin grinned. The glasses made him look owlish, but the smile was pure mischief, and for half a second Joshua saw the campus cop he’d fallen for.
Or had chased, more like, across quads and frat house lawns.
Colin had been thirty and beautiful and sang like an angel.
He was so devastatingly handsome in his police blues that Joshua spent half his time in a state of deeply aroused shock.
Staring at him now, Joshua was forced to admit that not much had changed. At least in that area of life. “Alex went for an ice cream with David and Nate,” he muttered, then betrayed himself with a sigh. “They’ll be back shortly, I expect.”
“Tragic timing,” Colin murmured, not looking up.
“Oh, shut up!”
Colin’s gaze turned thoughtful as he set the legal pad aside. “We’re suggesting that he bunk with Trent tonight, remember? Makes sense. He has an extra bed.”
“So do we.”
Colin didn’t miss a beat. “Not tonight, we don’t.”
Joshua froze.
Slowly, he turned from the window.
Colin was watching him now. Not grinning. Not teasing. Just looking at him—steady, warm, deliberate.
Something in Joshua’s chest tightened.
Their eyes locked.
The air shifted. No jokes. No banter. Just that familiar current humming between them, the one that had survived bullets and courtrooms and grief and long years of loving each other too fiercely to ever stop.
Joshua felt heat rise up his neck before he could stop it. “You are impossible,” he muttered, though there wasn’t much fight left in it.
Colin’s mouth curved slightly. “Mm. I’ve heard that before.”
Joshua cleared his throat, trying for dignity and failing. “Well.” He adjusted the towel at his waist, buying himself half a second. “It would make logistical sense for Alex to bunk with Trent tonight.”
“Logistical,” Colin repeated solemnly.
“Yes. Entirely practical.”
Colin held his gaze a moment longer, eyes darkening just enough to make Joshua’s stomach flip.
“I agree wholeheartedly,” Colin said.
Joshua exhaled—and laughed despite himself. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet…,” Colin murmured.
Joshua’s blush deepened, but this time… he didn’t look away.
Colin’s gaze drifted—slowly, deliberately—downward.
Joshua followed it.
“Oh, don’t you dare,” he warned.
Colin’s brows lifted in mild innocence. “I didn’t say a word.”
“You were thinking a word.”
“Possibly.”