Chapter 4
Edison couldn’t stop smiling.
He’d been smiling since the moment Kevin showed up with that serious expression that made Edison’s chest ache in the best way.
Since the moment Kevin’s fingers brushed his as they stepped into the gallery, warm and sure.
Since Kevin had kissed him after the exhibit.
No words, but a dictionary’s worth of meaning in his touch.
By the time they’d stepped through the front door of his home, Edison’s cheeks hurt from how much he’d been grinning.
And now? With Kevin rolling up his sleeves like the literal fantasy he was? Edison might need to lie down.
Distraction was needed, now. “Plates are there. Glasses in the top cabinet. Forks in the drawer to your right,” Edison reminded him before switching into danger mode. “And I swear, if you rearrange anything, I will haunt you.”
“Yes, Chef.” Kevin obligingly opened the correct doors and got to work. “I haven’t changed anything the other times I’ve been here,” he teased.
That was true. Which had to mean ironclad willpower on his part, since Kevin’s rooms at High Water were so spic-and-span tidy. Edison was always tempted to mess something up.
Hmmm. Which said more about Edison’s issues than Kevin’s.
Still, Edison gave him an approving nod. “Part of the reason you keep getting invited back,” he shared with more honesty than intended.
The kitchen was small, but everything in it was his. A deep red tea towel hung off the oven handle, and the small round table bore a hand-stitched runner he’d found at a thrift shop in Edmonton. The mismatched plates were vintage, and his wine glasses were etched with tiny maple leaves.
Everything in the room made him happy inside. As Kevin moved around the space like he belonged there—quiet, calm, competent—he too made the makes Edison happy list.
The man had loosened his collar, and those sleeves—
Lord help me. Those sleeves were now rolled up just high enough to show off strong forearms and the faintest peek of veins.
Edison fanned himself dramatically as he brought over the sautéed vegetables. “You’re dangerous like this. Casual domesticity looks illegally hot on you.”
Kevin glanced up, expression amused. “I’m pretty sure I just set out cutlery.”
“With authority,” Edison said. “It’s the authority that kills me.”
They sat across from each other at the little table, knees brushing every time either of them shifted.
The meal was simple but warm—creamy polenta with garlicky mushrooms, cumin-roasted squash, and a caramelized onion jam Edison had made last weekend because apparently he was a man who made jam now.
One bite in and Kevin moaned in approval. “You’re spoiling me.”
“I told you when we started dating; I come with snacks,” Edison offered primly. “Also—flair, sparkle, and occasional bursts of musical theatre.”
“I like all of that.”
Edison’s heart did that fluttery thing again, and he tried not to let it show too obviously.
Conversation was easy. Kevin listened like always—focused and present—but he also responded more tonight. Teased a little. Shared more stories. A brightness shone in his eyes Edison hadn’t seen before, and it made anything feel possible.
When they’d finished their plates and Kevin started gathering the dishes, Edison caught his wrist.
“Sit. Please.” He smiled. “I’ll deal with the dishes tomorrow. Tonight feels too nice to waste on ordinary chores.”
Kevin sat agreeably, that unreadable expression settling across his face.
“You okay?” Edison asked softly.
“Yeah.” Kevin nodded slowly before rotating his palm up and letting their fingers mesh together. “I was just thinking how good this feels.”
“Yeah,” Edison echoed. “Me too.”
“I like your place.” Kevin glanced around but his gaze returned quickly to Edison’s eyes. “I like being here with you.”
A pause. Just long enough to make Edison’s squirrel-chasing brain leap five trees and change direction completely.
Boom, they were freefalling into dangerous territory. “You don’t feel like it’s too much?”
Do you think that I’m too much?
Those words didn’t come out of his mouth. He swore they didn’t, but Kevin stared at him as if he’d spoken them clearly.
A soft squeeze to his fingers was followed by Kevin’s firm but gentle answer. “You are an amazing man. You’re kind and fun and centered in yourself. When I look around your place, I see a reflection of that.”
A knot formed in Edison’s throat. “Someone told me I should stop flitting around and grow up.” He paused. “They also told me that, in spite of being eighteen and having figured this part out, they didn’t think we should be gay anymore. So I know they were wrong about—”
Kevin swore. “They told you to stop being gay? That’s bullshit. Who had the balls to try that nonsense? Because I know it wasn’t your parents. They’re rock solid and a hoot.”
“My high school boyfriend,” Edison admitted quietly.
Across from him, Kevin’s eyes widened then his whole body sagged slightly. “Definitely bullshit, but damn. I bet that hurt.”
Edison eyed him for a second. “Don’t pull your Dr. Robb analysis hat on me or anything, okay?”
“I won’t,” Kevin promised even as he leaned forward. “But I am sorry you had to deal with that crap as a teenager. Those years are hard enough without people we care about making it even more confusing.”
“Amen,” Edison agreed.
“Also, I’m very glad you’re gay,” Kevin announced with complete deadpan.
A snicker escaped before Edison could stop it.
Kevin tilted his head. “Not to change the topic or anything, but you were stretching your neck earlier. At the gallery. I meant to ask.”
Edison waved his free hand. “Ugh. I helped Mr. and Mrs. Braxton move some stuff during my lunch break. It turned out to be mostly sandbags. Apparently, they’re prepping for basement leaks again.”
Kevin blinked. “Sandbags?”
“Yup. Heavy and awkward. It wasn’t what I expected to help with, but…” Edison shrugged. “They’re old enough the task might have hurt them. I wasn’t going to let them throw their backs out when all it cost me was some sore muscles.”
Kevin stood again, using the connection between them to tug Edison upward. “Come on.”
Edison let himself be guided to his feet. “Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Kevin said, his voice soft but firm. “You’re getting a backrub.”
A pleased noise escaped before Edison could bury it. “You know how to sweet-talk a man.”
His room was just off the kitchen. The walls were painted soft cream, and the bed was covered with a thick quilt he’d sewn himself—fabrics collected over the years, memories stitched together in navy, burnt orange, and forest green.
Kevin guided him to sit on the edge of the bed then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Edison shivered—not just from the cool air on his skin but from the reverent way Kevin’s fingers moved, brushing his shoulders as he slid the fabric down and off.
“You always smell good,” Kevin murmured, thumbs pressing gently along the muscles of Edison’s upper back. “Like cedar and something warm.”
“Fancy shampoo and a lifetime of good decisions,” Edison said, but his voice was already going breathy.
Kevin hummed in amusement and leaned down, brushing his lips to the nape of Edison’s neck.
Lordy, it felt amazing, and they’d only just begun.
A minute later Kevin had him positioned on his belly on the bed, crawling over him to place one knee on either side of Edison’s thighs.
The massage started slowly. Gentle circles at first, then deeper pressure. Kevin’s hands were strong and sure. He found every knot, every tight line of muscle, and coaxed it into ease. Edison melted, a soft moan escaping as Kevin’s thumbs dug in just beneath his shoulder blades.
“You did too much today,” Kevin scolded.
“I like helping people.”
“I know. But maybe let someone take care of you, too.”
The words hit like an arrow straight to the heart. Edison’s breath caught.
Then Kevin’s mouth followed his hands, kisses replacing pressure, lips ghosting over bare skin. A slow burn lit up along Edison’s spine.
He turned slightly, enough to look up at Kevin.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Robb?”
Kevin smiled, slow and devastating. “Would it be working?”
Edison surged up to kiss him, hand curling into Kevin’s shirt.
Their lips met, slow and hungry. Kevin guided him gently back, kissing him again as they lined up together on the bed.
Helpless to stop, Edison pulsed his hips forward, need swelling as the kiss deepened.
As Kevin slid a hand to Edison’s lower back and lined up their groins so perfectly—cock to cock, pressure rising.
“Kev. Don’t stop,” Edison begged.
Their hips moved in rhythm as heat built between them.
Kevin pulled back, and Edison cursed softly.
The other man smiled, but his expression also held want. A need as deep as Edison’s. Kevin whispered, “Let me take care of you tonight.”
Edison nodded, his throat too thick with emotion to answer properly. He trusted Kevin. He wanted this.
Wanted him.
What followed was delightful torment. Kevin’s pace was patient but determined, a feather-light touch one moment and more grounding the next. He eased Edison’s pants and underwear off, eyes dark and full of—
Something Edison refused to name. The mere idea still made his chest ache with how much he wanted to believe this was more.
One kiss after another, Kevin worked his way down Edison’s body. Fingers ghosted over skin gone sensitive and hot. Little nips and hot strokes of Kevin’s tongue were mixed with addictive pleasure as a strong fist wrapped around Edison’s cock.
“Kev…”
A request? A promise? Edison didn’t know what he was asking for, but when Kevin’s mouth slipped over his shaft—hot, soft, and unhurried—Edison arched, fingers fisting the quilt, breath coming in ragged little gasps.
It was exquisite. Not only the physical sensations, but the intimacy. The knowing. Kevin kissed and licked and teased as if he wanted Edison to feel worshipped. As if every moment was a conversation they were having with skin and breath instead of words.
When Edison finally came, it was with a shudder that racked his entire body and a cry that he tried to muffle but didn’t quite manage to hide.
Kevin held him as he came down. Just held him. Hands warm on Edison’s back, breath soft against his hair. No demands. No pressure. Just presence. They lay tangled together in the aftermath, skin cooling, breath slowing.
“Wow,” Edison whispered.
“Yeah,” Kevin said, voice low and rough. “You’re incredible.”
Edison chuckled weakly. “That was… You’re very good at massages, Dr. Robb.”
Kevin chuckled as he pressed a kiss to his temple. “Don’t tell anyone at the clinic. They’ll start booking me out.” They lay in silence for a while longer before Kevin whispered, almost too quiet to hear, “I really like being here with you.”
Edison’s heart did that dangerous flutter again. He didn’t know where this was going. He had rules and mandates, but maybe…
In this moment, in this room, with Kevin beside him and a quiet stillness wrapping around them like a second quilt—
It was enough to start dreaming about moving forward with new rules.
And maybe, just maybe, that was all he needed to know for now.`