“This would make a beautiful little garden,” August murmured to himself.
“Consider it yours,” I replied. “I always wanted a bunch of plants up here, but I might be better at cooking than gardening.” I continued, telling him about the concrete pots and installing the heater above the creaking wicker sofa I’d found at a yard sale. I guessed my vision was bigger than my abilities.
“You’re a handyman,” he noted. “Nicky told me you’re always runnin’ around fixing things. If something breaks at the Initiative, you try to repair it yourself first. Apparently, you’re often fixin’ your father’s radiator and the sink at your grandmother’s place.”
I chuckled. “Exactly how much did my brother tell you about me?”
He grinned faintly and pulled me close. “He’s been keepin’ tabs for me. He told me you had a damn Twizzler for lunch.”
For fuck’s sake.
“That’s not what we agreed upon, darlin’,” he whispered, his lips ghosting so close to mine.
I wet my bottom lip and waited for him to kiss me. “I guess it’s good you’re here. You can keep me in line.”
“You can count on it.”
I shuddered with want and finally felt his lips claim mine in a slow, deep, hungry kiss. I locked my arms around his neck and pressed myself closer, and I angled my head to go deeper. To taste him properly.
“I don’t wanna be apart from you,” I admitted. “It hurt.”
“We’ll find a way. I promise.” He rested his forehead against mine and just held me. “I foresee an everyday life right here, with weekend getaways and holiday breaks at the ranch.”
“I want more time than that in Nashville.” I brushed my fingers across his silver scruff, then back into his hair. “We’re gonna make changes to our schedule. Here and there, I’ll have a couple months away from the school to produce online material for an expansion.”
He smiled and tilted his head, curious. “I’m lookin’ forward to learning everything about your work. And hopefully, there will be more concerts.”
Fucking hell, he made me happy.
A few weeks later
“You really don’t like Manhattan, do you?” August was thoroughly amused.
I was mildly annoyed by all the people. Fucking Times Square, of all places. Or rather, the M&M Store right next to the square. But most of all, I was ready to cut a fucker if they crowded Camden again.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said I avoid coming into the city.” I eyed the man nearby who was here with his son and daughter. Camden was there too, looking through the coloring books, and the man had already acted like his kids deserved more access than anyone else.
It was possible I was being slightly overprotective, but it was rare for Camden to even wanna leave the house when he was in a regressive period, and I didn’t want him to regret it. There was no role-playing or costumes today. It was just us.
After another moment, Camden looked up and waved me over.
I was there in a second, and I wove my fingers through his hair. “Did you find something fun, ragazzo?”
“This one.” He stayed close to me, self-conscious about who might overhear, and extended a coloring book to me.
“I can hold it for you. Did you wanna go upstairs and look at the stuffies?”
He nodded hesitantly and grasped my hand. “I saw M&M stuffies holding candy tubes.”
“You did? Well, if it comes with the stuffie, then I guess we have no choice but to get you the candy too.”
That made him grin.
These little outings were important to me. Slowly but surely, he was filling his new room with toys, stuffies, clothes, posters, and movies. He slept with the bunny I’d given him at the food festival every night.
According to Camden, the bunny loved New York very much.
Last weekend, the boy bought a new entertainment unit, a TV, and a PlayStation. His plans were to spend the evening playing video games with an online friend while August and I had dinner at Nonna’s.
And bless that woman. While Pop had gone out of his way to let me know he was on board with me having two partners, he was still part of a more conservative generation, and I could tell he found it a bit weird. Nonna, though, despite that she probably didn’t understand everything herself, dove right in with acceptance. She also adored Camden an absurd amount. She liked August very much too, but he was a professional chef, and she was an Italian woman. She was a little careful at Sunday dinner, torn between laying down the law in the kitchen and hoping this famous chef liked her cooking.
He did, for the record. He was a gentleman through and through.
She’d probably be disappointed Camden didn’t show up tonight, but he needed a night off. He’d worked his ass off all week and wanted a weekend to unwind, regress, and have fun without worrying about filters and social standards.