Page 29 of Emil

Anders and I both looked around to see who he was talking to.

“Are you talking to us, sir?” I asked.

“Of course I am,” he said. “Here, give me your phone, and I’ll take a picture so you can have a shot of both of you with the sunset. It really is gorgeous tonight.”

The older man directed us to stand in front of the railing, and Anders and I didn’t really stop or object. He’d called us boyfriends, and it seemed petty to correct him. There was no harm in it. The man took several pictures just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

“Stand closer together so we can get you and the sun,” he directed.

I moved closer to Anders and wrapped my arm around his shoulder. His hand landed around my waist. I angled him in closer so he was cradled against me. The smile I gave was wide and open. Anders’s was soft and a little hesitant.

The man showed us the pictures he’d taken. Each one was a slight variation, but in all of them, Anders looked beautiful. The kindness in his eyes radiated like a beacon in a storm.

“Thank you so much for taking our picture,” Anders said.

If you didn’t know him, it sounded friendly. But I did know him. I’d been studying his voice for weeks now, and it sounded wooden and stilted, like he wasn’t sure what to say but knew words had to come out.

“You’re very welcome. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” the man said before walking off.

It wasn’t his fault that we were left standing there, both of us a little stunned by the implications of what he’d said.

“Well, I guess that’s not a picture Rory is going to get,” Anders said under his breath.

“Yes, it is.”

“What was that?”

“Send the picture.”

CHAPTER NINE

ANDERS

With permission granted last night, I set my alarm for early this morning so my plan could be executed smoothly, if I was lucky. God, it felt good. I had a purpose today. A direction. A hole inside me that could be filled. Nerves made my hands jittery, but anticipation was part of it too.

When my alarm went off at six, I jumped out of bed for a quick shower. Last night, Emil had given me the alarm code so I could let myself in, and that’s what I did by six-thirty. First up was taking the shoes he’d left outside his door, along with the shoe-shine kit he’d admitted was in his closet but had never been used.

I took the wooden box and moved into the kitchen. The smell of wax filled the room from the buff-and-shine. I’d removed the accumulated dust and double-checked the stitches to ensure they were free from any debris. When I was finished, they looked brand new. The sense of satisfaction I felt at checking off the first task on my list eased some of the tension in my chest.

I returned the shoes to their original spot outside Emil’s bedroom door. There was no sound, so I assumed he’d decided to sleep in this morning. We normally started our day around seven in the cottage, but not today. Today, he was giving me time. The tightness loosened a little more.

Next up was to prepare the coffee to be started later and to make his breakfast. After a quick rummage in the cupboards, I found a pitcher and some plates. Over the last few weeks, he’d mentioned he didn’t like a heavy breakfast. Rather than a full one, I created a fruit plate with a bit of cheese and nuts for crunch. He didn’t know, but I’d been studying his coffee habits. He used an absurd amount of half-and-half and way too much sugar—three yellow packets and half a teaspoon of regular sugar.

Everything was laid out and ready to go at the kitchen table. When he got up, all I’d need to do was bring the little pitcher filled with cream to the table. He might get annoyed that his sister lived out her home-decorating fantasies at his house, but I appreciated her. It would have been nice to have some fresh flowers on the table, but that would have to wait for another day.

I went back down the hall to check his door for noises, and this time, I heard him stirring on the other side.

“Emil?” I said as I gently rapped on the door.

When Emil opened the door, I was not prepared for the sight of him in nothing but a towel wrapped loosely and low on his hips. His chest was smooth with just a hint of hair between his pecs. I knew he went to the gym fairly regularly, but, oh my goodness, I hadn’t been prepared for the results. His stomach wasn’t a full six-pack, but there was definition to appreciate. “Uh…um…”

“Good morning,” Emil rasped. His voice was still thick with sleep. He must have been in the shower when I checked earlier because water dripped from his dark hair and made trails along his shoulders and chest.

“Yeah, uh, g-g-good morning.” For whatever reason, my brain had ceased to function. The ability to look anywhere but at Emil had fled with it. It was a chore, but I forced myself to take a steadying breath before I tried speaking again. “Am I okay to start the coffee now?”

“Give me five minutes, and I’ll be out.”

With my answering nod, Emil disappeared back into his bedroom, and I remembered to breathe again. Rather than let myself become distracted by the encounter, I returned to the kitchen to lay out the food and start the coffeemaker. With ten seconds to spare, Emil emerged from the hallway and slid into the space I’d set for him at the table. He immediately took a sip of coffee before setting the mug down again. He glanced around, and a frown took over his face.