Page 140 of The Gaybor War

I say nothing.

"That’s… impressive coverage."

I still say nothing, but my face warms from the sudden rise in my blood pressure.

"I mean, statistically⁠—"

I pivot toward him. "Do not!"

He presses his lips together, valiantly suppressing a grin. It doesn’t work.

"I will burn those flamingos."

"You love them."

"I love you. The flamingos are collateral damage."

He steps closer, sliding his arms around my waist, his chin bumping my shoulder. "You knew loving me came with risks."

"I did not anticipate avian warfare."

"Semantics." Benji cozies up against my chest, nudging his nose against mine. "Say it again."

I glance down at him, then at the ridiculous sleigh, the squirrel mafia stripping my tree bare, and the absolute catastrophe that used to be my SUV. Somehow, beneath all the chaos, everything inside me feels astonishingly... settled.

"I love you, Benji Stewart."

The words leave me quietly, but they land between us with the weight of something permanent.

For once, he has nothing clever to say. He just... stares. His eyes shine in that dangerous way they do when he's trying very hard not to let himself feel too much all at once.

"You..." His laugh comes out breathless. "You finally said it."

"As if you didn't already know."

"I hoped." His voice is barely above a whisper now. "But Carter..." He shakes his head, still looking at me like I've handed him something impossibly fragile. "Knowing isn't the same as hearing it."

His hands slide up to cradle my face. "I love you too."

He kisses me slowly, like he's memorizing the moment instead of rushing through it. When we finally separate, his forehead rests against mine, and he smiles—a smaller smile than usual, but somehow brighter than all the loud ones.

"You realize," he murmurs, "I'm going to be unbearable now."

"You were already unbearable."

"Fair." He steals one more quick kiss. "I love you, Carter Reed."

Something inside my chest expands so suddenly it almost hurts.

"But I’m making you wash my car."

He laughs bright enough to scare three sparrows out of my maple. "Together."

"…Fine."

He kisses my cheek, quick and smug. "House of the Holiday, here we come."

I look back at the flamingo sleigh, the jumble of festive yard decor, and my once pristine driveway.