Ian (Unbreakable Bonds 4.5)

“Oh God,” Hollis groaned. “Please tell me that you’re going to put in more shrubberies and trees to shield the neighbors.”

Ian reached over and playfully smacked Hollis’s shoulder, a Monty Python quote on the tip of his tongue because they’d watched Holy Grail just two nights ago. “They don’t have neighbors.”

While the new neighborhood was starting to fill up, there were still openings. Snow and Jude were on the end, but the house next door stood empty.

“They’ll get neighbors eventually,” Hollis said then turned his attention back toward Jude. “Think of the children, man!”

Jude just shook his head, taking all of Hollis’s ribbing with his usual ease. The only person he seemed to butt heads with was Lucas, but then everyone butted heads with Lucas.

“Hey, guys, could one of you run in and tell Snow that I’ll be taking the chicken off the grill in about five minutes?”

Ian immediately jumped up. “I’ve got it.”

Before he could get a step away, Hollis grabbed his wrist. “No helping. I’m serious.”

“I’m not going to cook. Just relay the message and come right back.”

“Could you also ask where he put the new tablecloth?” Jude added.

Hollis gave him one last warning look before releasing his wrist, allowing Ian to turn back toward the sliding glass door. He had no intention of telling Snow how to cook. He could take a night off. He’d tell Snow that the meat was nearly done and get the tablecloth. And maybe just check on the salad dressing…and see if he put enough butter in the—

Ian stopped as he put his hand on the handle so he could roll his eyes at himself. He needed help. It was like he couldn’t turn his brain off. He could let others around him cook in peace…maybe.

Drawing in a deep breath, he pulled open the door and quickly slipped inside, shutting it behind him as he saw Sergeant dart across the living room. The little kitten had turned into a ten-pound monstrous ball of fluff. He had to be part Maine Coon because their little baby was bigger than some dogs. And still fast as hell.

“Jude says five more minutes and the meat is done,” Ian quickly announced as Snow opened his mouth—likely to shoo Ian out of the kitchen again. The noodles were now off the stove and he was hoping in the stove baking in a casserole dish full of cheese. The salad was prepped and other bowls were steaming across the room. It all smelled amazing and Snow looked as if he had everything under control.

“Great. Just finishing up here.”

“He also asked where the new tablecloth is?”

Snow turned and pulled open a drawer opposite the sink. He reached in and pulled out…a shower curtain still in its plastic wrapping. They both looked at it confusion before Snow suddenly swore.

“Damn it! That means I put the tablecloth in the hall closet. Ian, could you—”

“I’m on it,” he said, cutting him off.

He passed through the living room to the front hall and up the stairs to the second floor. He loved Snow’s home. The walls were a soft cream and everything was accented with dark woods. He’d liked Snow’s old house across the river in Ohio, but this place he’d built with Jude truly felt like a home. There were pictures on the walls of both Jude’s family and Snow’s family. Rowe’s wife Mel even had a place of honor on the end table next to the couch as if Snow wanted to make sure she could still hear all their conversations. There were other knickknacks and mementos of lives lived together. All things they’d wondered if Snow would ever have and things Ian was trying to build now with Hollis.

Jogging up the stairs, Ian zipped down the hall to the narrow linen closet next to the spare bathroom and across from the guest bedroom. He may have crashed there a time or two after Snow and Jude had moved in, the result of nights of too much drinking. Unfortunately, the linen closet was overflowing with towels, hand towels, washcloths, sheets, and pillowcases. Not a tablecloth still wrapped in its plastic container in sight.

He moved stacks of towels and linens around, trying to find the missing tablecloth. After a couple of minutes and no luck, he’d decided that he’d be happy with any tablecloth. Or maybe they could go without a tablecloth.

His only warning was a whiff of spicy cologne over the lingering smell of dust and cotton. Hollis’s strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind half a second before stubbled cheeks brushed across his neck. Ian leaned into him, welcoming the feel of the bigger man’s body against his while Hollis burrowed his face into Ian’s neck.

“Forgive me?” Hollis asked, his words muffled.

“For what?” He tried to turn in Hollis’s arms, but they only tightened, holding him in place. “You pick a fight with Snow?”