The pause stretched—made it worse.
“…Not like this.” The man’s head turned and his gaze locked on him.
Sage felt the instinctive response before he could stop it—the old street reflex that had kept him alive for years.
What did I do wrong?
He buried the thought immediately.
When boots sounded against the porch boards, Sage looked up.
Law stepped down the porch steps holding two mugs of coffee, the warm porch light catching the gray threaded through his dark hair.
His gaze swept over him as he crossed the yard toward them. Law moved with easy confidence—long stride, shoulders loose, hips rolling just enough to carry his weight smoothly across the grass.
Something about the movement caught his attention for a long beat.
The soldier didn’t hurry, and it only exaggerated his sexy walk. Sage couldn’t look away.
Law’s father glanced over his shoulder and gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment.
“Well. Here he is.”
Law stopped beside the table and held one of the mugs out toward him.
“Coffee.”
Sage took it automatically. “Thanks.”
Up close, Law’s presence felt… intense.
His father pushed back from the bench and rose to his feet, brushing his hands together.
“We’ll let you two talk.”
Law shot his dad a look.
The older man only smiled faintly and started toward the bonfire. Law’s mother stepped at his side, looping her arm through her husband’s as they wandered away beneath the lights.
Just like that, they were alone at the picnic table.
Sage took a careful sip of coffee, the creamy sugary heat spreading across his tongue. He licked his lips.
Law’s gaze followed the movement.
Sage swallowed around a suddenly dry throat and took another hasty sip of coffee.
“What did he say?”
Sage slowly placed the mug down and ran his damp hands down the sides of his jeans.
“You never bring people home.”
A corner of Law’s mouth lifted slightly.
“He’s right.”
Sage blinked at him.
