8
Yours!
They skipped the farewell show.
After dinner, Rangi scooped Shawna up like she weighed nothing, slung her over her shoulder, and left without a goodbye.
When Jorge’s fingers curled into the back of Lachlan’s shirt, his nose nuzzling behind his ear, Lach forgot about Shawna and dessert. He stood, gathered both their hands in his and dragged the two of them back to the room.
The key fob beeped. The lock disengaged. The door opened.
Lachlan stepped into the space, grabbed Jorge by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss that carried far more than want in it. “I’m so happy right now,“
he whispered into the man’s short beard.
Jorge wrapped those large arms around him, holding Lachlan still, and kissed him slower this time. It turned Lach to mush, his legs going soft and his strength failing. The kiss burned him but it wasn’t a goodbye kiss. No regrets. Just a pure celebration and promise.
Fingernails ran down the side of his face, just as Jorge slipped away from Lachlan’s lips. He forced his eyes open and looked at Champagne, who had the sweetest smile on her face, eyes misty. She pressed her lips together, brows knitted down. The profound sadness taking over her normally confident face.
“Champagne?”
“I thought I would live with a missing piece for the rest of my life,“
she muttered, voice unusually tight and low.
The soft sound of ache she let out pummeled Lach like bricks at his head. He shifted, Jorge letting go, and Lach pulled Champagne into a hug. She fell in, wrapped tight around him and buried her face into the crook of his neck.
“I’m so fucking lucky,“
Lach rasped, hands moving as if he might lose her if he let go. “You two are so special. I didn’t know how to say goodbye. How to let go. Forget. How—“ Lach cleared his throat, fighting back another onslaught of tears, his shirt getting slacked where Champagne rested. “How can two people be so perfect for me?”
“How could we not be,“
Champagne cried out, her fingers digging into Lach’s back as she hugged him tighter. “You’re perfect for us. You’re ours, Lachlan Campbell. If I had to buy a jet to get you, I would have.”
Jorge, bless the man and his casual steadiness even when his emotions ran high, snorted. He dropped a kiss on both their heads. “We can’t afford a jet, Querida.”
“Hush you.“
Champagne waved Jorge off and growled, both her hands grabbing Lachlan’s face. “You really live in Cattle Ford? In that podunk potluck town?”
He couldn’t help but laugh, tears squeezed right out of him. They slid down his face and pooled in the space where her hands crushed his cheeks. “Born and raised. My whole life.”
“Oh? There’s two of you homegrown types!“
She let go and threw her hands up, giggling.
Before Lach could entertain the freedom of his face to wipe his nose, Jorge grabbed him and pulled Lachlan in for a dozen little kisses. “How did I miss you, Güero?“
Another several pecks covered his cheeks, his damp eyes, and his forehead. He pressed their noses together and closed his eyes. “You were so close.”
“Timing matters,“
Lach managed to whisper before another firm kiss descended on his lips, taking his mind and breath with it. He wanted to melt into this man’s front and hide from the world.
“True.“
Champagne’s careful tone interrupted his haze. “Time matters and we have twelve hours until we are back in the real world, having to schedule dates and navigate life. So, why are we wasting it?”
Lach scrunched up his face, waiting for the undressed Champagne to turn down the bed, lower the lights, and sway towards them. Her body on display like a piece of art in the soft moon glow from the open veranda. Surreal. Like a dream. Like he’d wake up tomorrow and realize they still had to say goodbye forever.
“I don’t want this to end.”
His feet left the ground. Jorge wrapped Lach up and guided his legs around those thick hips, carrying him to the bed and kissing his neck until it burned from the stubble. Lach knew there’d be visible marks tomorrow. “This will never end, Lachlan.”
He leaned back as Jorge lowered him to the mattress and shoved him back into the pillows, another aggressive kiss leaving him gasping for air.
“Never,“
Champagne agreed, climbing on the bed beside the pair. She straddled Lach’s chest, hand wrapped around her dainty silk shaft. “We’re yours from now on, Lachlan.”
He licked his lips and reached out, fingers entangling with both Champagne’s slender, soft hands, as well as Jorge’s calloused, thick ones. Their hearts beat so loud in their chests, he could feel each pulse in their palms. The heavy smell of arousal and the tangy taste of tears numbed his overthinking brain.
“Good,“
he whispered, voice raspy. He licked his lips, wondering who he’d get to taste first. “Because I’m all yours. My beautiful treasures found at sea.”