The magazine slipped off Cora’s hands. The younger girl caught it.
“He wants you to be our new Mummy. Will you?”
Cora’s face grew ashen. Her smile looked grim. “I . . . I . . .”
“Daddy has a secret plan for your anniversary.”
“Daddy will get mad if you tell her!”
“But Patty is babysitting. She has to know she’s going out Saturday.”
“Just shush.”
The girls scowled at one another, and Cora swallowed hard. Jason had been in enough awkward moments to recognise when someone wanted the world to swallow them up and stop asking questions. He surged to his feet and crossed to them. “Horoscope time, is it?” he called out. “Can you read Libra’s out to me?”
“Are you a Libra?” The older girl narrowed her eyes at him.
He shook his head. “My boyfriend is, and I’m fairly sure there’s a nuisance in his life. What does it say? It’s for next week, right?”
The younger girl checked and nodded, then found the Libra symbol and passed the magazine to her sister to read. Cora rose to her feet, swiping at her eyes, a sudden laugh falling from her painted lips. “Libra is in a good position to make a beautiful match,” she said, and looked at him.
“Yes, it says here: Libra couples,” the girl read aloud, a little stilted in places. “Romantically, you’re in the front seat, and you should expect to drive the way to upcoming relationship milestones. There are a few blind corners to come, and the destination is unclear. For single Libras,” she paused. Technically, Owen was a single Libra . . . Jason paid close attention. “Old lovers will return and new passions may be reignited. Light and fun sexy times are highly likely.”
He frowned.
Cora mistook his expression. She grimaced, “Um, so not quite child-friendly, that horoscope. I probably shouldn’t have given you that magazine. Does this make me a bad—” She stopped, laughing hollowly. “Of course I am. Rightio, kids, Daddy will be back any minute. Let’s wait outside.”
She herded the kids towards the door, and Jason stopped her in her tracks. She looked at him quizzically, and he raised his hand.
Her expression crumpled and her hand met his, shaking. The press of their fingers felt fraught with emotion and the look she left Jason with . . .
He rubbed his chest, found the magazine, and read his birth mother’s horoscope.
A huge opportunity looms before you, Gemini. If you find yourself doubting your ability to do it justice, repeat the mantra: You can do it. If you’re still unsure, look around you. The universe is rooting for you. With the right courage, past, present, and future just might collide and forge something beautiful.
He thought . . . he understood the opportunity.
Her pained look at him, though. She didn’t, couldn’t believe she’d be allowed it.
He frowned over it all day.
Took the problem back home.
To dinner.
To the keys of Carl’s newly tuned piano, melting under his touch . . .
Music lifted into the air, soft, rounded, a slow dance from light to dark. He stopped abruptly and turned to Owen, on an armchair in the living room behind him. The lamps cast his shadow over the rolling sea of ivory.
Sergeant Owen Stirling Sir leaned forward, forearms on his knees, hands clasped together, gaze locked on him, waiting.
“I’m too restless for this.” Jason stood and paced the rug. “It feels wrong, playing in this house. I should be playing in yours.”
A flash of something hit those dark eyes, and Jason paced some more, coming nearer to Owen bit by bit, like spiralling to a mountain top. His breath was becoming more laboured too. “I’ve got . . . things on my mind.”
“What kind of things?”
Jason stopped in front of him, toe to toe, and Owen leaned back in the chair, looking up. Relaxed, easy. Unconcerned about what Jason might say, like he’d take anything. Such a rock.
“I want to tell you something.” He bit his lip, worrying it.
Owen reached out and tugged him into his lap. Jason crumpled atop him, knees sliding either side of Owen’s thighs with a bounce that had him catching his breath. Owen’s hands slid around his hips, holding him steady, and dark eyes met his. “You can tell me anything.”
“Wow, you are such a great boyfriend.”
Owen sat up, bringing their bodies closer. “You’re quite something yourself, Jason.” The soft words fell like a caress.
“Am I?” He was fishing. Yes. Desperately. But after Caroline, he hadn’t come away with confidence in his boyfriending abilities.
“You cook, you help keep the house clean, you engage so warmly with my family, you give to my nephew without expectation of anything in return, you’re hardworking, you’re playful. You know how to make me laugh. You really know how to make me cry.” Owen said that last part with a smirk; and true. There’d been a few things to cry about. Like how much of a magnet for disaster he was.