Page 204 of Checking Out the Librarian

“Are we not dancing?” Jonathan tilted his head to the side, showing that beautiful arc of his neck. How was he not going to kiss him if they took to the dance floor. “It’s alright if you don’t want to. We can dance in Eugene or Portland anytime we want.”

“We’re all dancing!” Hannah and Jess and Bri had their arms around each other. “All of us!”

“I’m going to find your mother. Might even let her take me on the floor with you. Somebody has to mind the herd.”

Connor knew his father was absolutely on over-watch, not going to let anyone ruin his chance to box step around the floor with Jonathan or join some complicated line dance, and he grinned at Jonathan. “I only know how to lead.”

Jonathan smirked in return. “I’ll allow that.” He leaned to whisper in Connor’s ear. “Until later.”

42

HAPPINESS IS NOT A POSSESSION

After another obscenely early wake up, time spent with the horses, and a breakfast that ensured Jonathan didn’t need to eat until Monday, he stood next to his car watching Connor stuff a suitcase into the back seat. The bikes had never come off the rack.

“I don’t want to go back. What am I saying? Who am I?”

“That’s the John Day Valley for you.” Connor smirked at him like a villain on a Housewives franchise before he let the door thud closed. “But you’ll see Pawsley tonight.”

“True.” Jonathan tried not to whimper as he watched Connor turn and walk away in his faded jeans. Pawsley and his job mattered, and he’d be glad to be with his fuzzy soft munchkin, but they didn’t look like that.

“I need a paycheck if I want to buy the good kitten food and somehow, it’s a mystery to me how, but I’m running low on my cleansers.”

“That’s a very accusative eyebrow. I can hear it all the way over here.” Connor walked slowly around Jonathan’s car, looking at the tires. “I’ll be back Friday. Five days.”

“Long enough for me to restock. Lucky you. And have you been wearing your sunblock? Do I need to leave one of mine here?”

Jonathan had five days to organize a birthday, which wouldn’t be difficult, because he’d already done most of the shopping, and Connor had amply demonstrated that he was far, far, too easy. A party that Jonathan planned, even if it wasn’t Met Gala level swank or influencer level swag, would be perfect for Connor.

A Rebecca quote popped into his head, and he whispered into the shimmering air, quietly testing the shape of the words for their truth. “Happiness is not a possession to be prized, it is a quality of thought, a state of mind.”

Even from the other side of the car, Connor must have heard. “You know I’ve been reading your book, backwards, forwards and Sundays. I know it’s not all evil housekeepers. I recognize that, mainly because you underlined it in a pink gel pen, you bad librarian, but yeah. Happiness.”

“Oh.” He heard himself echo Connor in the single, bewildered syllable.

Even if they ended up sounding alike, they would never dress alike, this he could spray paint on the side of the ginormous barn or tattoo on his ass. They would never dress alike.

Connor came very slowly around the front of the car, staring at Jonathan. “The narrator turns out to be strong, although why she never gets a name, I will never understand. But she and Max eventually learn to communicate. When death is on the line.”

“Ohmigod, stop with that.” He swatted at Connor, who was six feet away and thus immune to Jonathan’s flapping hand. “You cannot put your Princess Bride in my Rebecca.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do when I get back. Maybe against a wall.”

Jonathan covered his flaming cheeks with his palms. “Stop!”

“Tires look good.” Connor stopped beside him. “And for the record, my thoughts and state of mind are happy, too.”

He reached out to lift Jonathan’s hands away from his face and linked their fingers, like they were going to gambol around the lawn. If Connor suggested it, Jonathan might. He’d clearly transformed into a baby deer, a singing fawn, or worse, a musical candelabra.

If they were going deep in movie-world, the thing struggling to escape his chest was probably an alien xenomorph and he should let it burst out already and consume them both.

“I love you.” It felt so good to say that first, he didn’t know why he hadn’t. “I. Love. You.”

Connor stepped back and grinned. “I know.”

He felt his mouth open and he wasn’t sure whether a shriek or a laugh or an epithet was going to tumble out, or all of them, and in what order. “You!”

Connor laughed so hard that he had to bend and put his hands on his thighs, the fucker. “Grumpy cat face, incoming!”