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He ripped his focus back to Harry, palming his hips. “Let’s do it.”

Harry wrecked his hair with his fingers. “I can’t afford a professional photographer.”

Knight rang out a disbelieving laugh. “Good lord.” He addressed Harry. “Lake has all the equipment needed to take a professional shot.”

Not the same as saying Lake could take a professional shot, Knight’s doubtful look said.

Determination bubbled in his chest. “I’ll take the best shots you’ve ever seen.”

Philip clapped gleefully.

Harry bit his lip. “Now?”

“Why not? It’s good weather, approaching the golden hour.”

“I’ve got to darken my eyes.” Harry gulped and shot out the room.

Lake smiled cheekily at Knight. “Will you help me gather the gear from the attic?”

“From a dark, tight space?” Philip said, breath-smellingly close to his side. “I’d love to help you.”

“Unnecessary.” Knight’s expression tightened. “It’s a mess up there, and some boards can’t be stepped on. Lake and I will get everything as soon as I finish watering.”

Lake turned to find Philip’s teeth flashing before his face.

“I bet you’ll take the perfect picture of Harry. You’re good at everything.”

“Well, not everything. But this shouldn’t be hard. Harry’s a cute guy with a stunning face, especially those freckles.”

“I’m sure you’ll capture him from his best angle.”

“Hopefully, but I’m a little worried that Harry is nervous about posing. He bolted from the room so fast.”

“I can help relax him.” Philip slid a hand over Lake’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m really good at massaging—”

Knight ducked through the arch, smothering a cough. “The watering can wait. Let’s go.”

Lake hoofed after Knight, tossing over his shoulder to Philip, “Start calming Harry. I’ll meet you at the gazebo.”

Lake followed Knight up a narrow, foldaway ladder into the darkness of the attic. Light beamed from Knight’s phone, casting a glow over mountains of boxes. Beams creaked as they picked their way across the crammed space.

“Sorry about the lack of warning about our guests,” Lake said. “I’ll cook. What do you want?”

“Anything you like, as long as it comes with a side of Tylenol.”

“What’s the Tylenol for?”

“Philip. Possibly Harry. Definitely you.”

“Me?”

A dry chuckle. “Please don’t pretend to have no idea.”

The surprise visit. His meddling, which Knight had emphatically warned him about. A slither of guilt itched in his belly.

Knight spotted his camera gear. “If you take your camera, I’ll bring the rest.”

Lake sat on a steel-hinged crate. “Mind if we stay up here a few minutes?”

Knight glanced at him. “Why?”

“I want Philip and Harry to bond without us.”

Knight perched on a wooden crate next to him and let out a weary laugh. “I don’t think they’ll bond as well as you think they will.”

Lake waved a dismissive hand. “You’ve spent the better part of the last seven years single. What do you know about bonding? Now, what do you think, navy bowtie for their big day?”

“Forest green, but there won’t be a big day. And I haven’t been a monk. There’ve been opportunities.”

Their legs bumped every other exhale. “Why didn’t you take them?”

“I wasn’t thrilled with any of the matches.”

“None?”

“I have a problem.”

Lake cupped his mouth, shielding a horrified whisper. “Down there?”

“And I’m leaving.” Knight stood, and Lake hooked a finger in the beltloop of his jeans and steered him back down. His finger stayed nestled around that strip of denim.

“Stay. I’m sorry. I mean, it’s okay if it’s not working. There are pills for that.”

Knight shook his head; his jaw twitched as if caught between a laugh and a groan. “I’m close to clobbering you with your camera.”

“I’m serious.”

“That’s why I’m so close.” Knight shifted, knees angling toward Lake. Lake’s finger fell from the belt loop. Brown eyes flashed in the muted light. “There’s nothing dysfunctional about my cock.”

The word sizzled through Lake, pooling in his crotch. It must have been because it was dark. Dark and warm, and they were so close their breaths were knotting.

“Jesus, Knight. I expected ‘manhood’ or ‘member’ from you. You shocked me with cock.”

“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

“No, you didn’t shock me up here.” Lake tapped his head, and then pointed toward his lap. “Shocked me there, if you know what I mean.”

Knight’s gaze followed his pointed finger. He slammed his eyes closed and breathed in deeply, like he needed extra patience to deal with Lake’s nonsense.

A baffling giggle escaped Lake. Hell, it almost seemed like he was nervous. But it was just Knight. Taylor’s relentlessly longsuffering dad.

Lake returned to their conversation. “Why didn’t any matches work for you?”

Knight inhaled deeply, let it go, and reopened his eyes. He focused on Lake’s camera. “I have a picture of the man I want to be with, and no one else comes close.”

“The man must be perfect. And well read.”

“Trust me, he is neither of those things.”

“Sounds like you’re talking about a real person?”

Knight hesitated. “I am.”

The confirmation prickled. It was just . . . he liked to think he knew all the important things about the Dixons. Lake should have picked up on this secret crush earlier.

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