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Best he pay better attention. He eyed Knight carefully. “I’m sorry, Knight.”
“Sorry?”
“He’s straight, isn’t he? I mean, he has to be.”
“He’s not straight.”
“Who else would turn you down? You have the driest humor this side of the hills.”
“Is that all I’ve got going for me?”
“Now look who’s fishing for compliments!”
“Don’t act surprised. I like to hear one or two positive things about me from time to time.”
“I could tell you sixteen things.”
“How highly specific.”
Lake smirked. “Well, I read this online article about boyfriends and finding Mr. Right. The short story is that you, Knightly Dixon, are a Mr. Right.”
Knight leaned in, whispering with a twitching smile. “And the long story?”
A laugh bubbled up from deep in his gut and poured out of Lake. “The long story is—”
“Lake?” Philip’s keen cry drifted up the ladder, and Lake and Knight jerked an inch apart. “You sure you don’t need help? Harry and I can carry things.”
Knight stood abruptly, and Lake grabbed a tight handful of his camera bag.
Within ten minutes they were set up in the gazebo, a lip-gnawing Harry perched on a stool.
Velvet summer wind breezed over them, and Lake stared at his beefy camera. He knew how to use it, but it had been a while; he was rusty, and he’d rather not let on to Harry or Philip.
He adopted a smile and ordered Harry around. A lot could be said for spirit. Fake it until you make it and all that.
Lake corrected the focus and began snapping, thankful he’d left a loaded battery in the camera bag all those eighteen months ago.
Philip fidgeted at Lake’s left, Harry defaulted to biting his lip, and Knight watched quietly from a bench where he’d seated himself with a book.
“Just relax!” Lake called out to Harry. “It’s not like we have gawking boyfriends to impress.”
Philip’s gaze flashed from Harry to Lake with a twinkle. “Not yet, anyway.”
Knight snorted.
Lake turned to the bench where Knight was watching them over an open book. “Good read there?”
“Painfully funny scene.”
Lake shook his head, smirking.
Philip kept looking over Lake’s shoulder, trying to catch glimpses of the display screen. Lake was used to Knight’s criticism, but constant ohhh-ing and ahhh-ing was throwing him off his game.
“Philip,” Lake said. “Find out what music Harry likes and stream it on your phone?”
Harry’s naturally photogenic figure assumed every pose perfectly, but between shots he looked close to shitting himself. Unless that was what blooming romance with Philip looked like?
A minute later, music beat a goofy tune out of Philip’s phone. Harry bopped along to it.
“What on earth are we listening to?” Knight said, reading Lake’s mind.
Philip cleared his throat and read from his screen. “Tiddlywinks.”
The rest of their session revolved around a looping track.
Not quite his thing, but it infused Harry with confidence.
“I’ll work on a selection of pictures after dinner,” Lake said as they packed the gear away.
Philip clapped. “Can I help you choose the perfect shot?”
Couldn’t get enough of Harry, could he?
Lake grinned. “After I’ve made a pre-selection and cleaned up my favorites.”
After I weed out the badly focused and out-of-frame shots.
Dinner was pizza, and a side of Tylenol for Knight. Afterward, Lake suggested Philip and Harry watch a movie while he dabbled with Photoshop.
From the dining table, he had a good view of the lovebirds through the arch; Knight puttered around him, cleaning up.
Lake kicked out the chair beside him and gestured he sit, which made Knight laugh. He finished cleaning and seated himself, the scent of vanilla and oak reminding Lake of their close proximity in the attic.
Lake side-eyed him. “We never finished our conversation.”
“By all means. What sixteen things make me Mr. Right?”
Lake snickered. “Why do you think you’d be turned down?”
Knight let out a deep breath. “It’s complicated. I’m fairly sure he hasn’t any clue of my feelings and it’s better that way.”
Lake frowned. “Why?”
“Because it can’t happen.”
“He’s off-limits?” Lake gasped. “Is it your boss?” Wasn’t Paul married? Wasn’t he close to sixty?
“He’s in charge, all right.”
“Is age difference the problem?”
“Partly, yes. It’s a delicate situation involving more than one party.”
It was Paul then. “What’s with all this forbidden romance in the air?”
Why this sudden and immeasurable dislike of Paul?
Paul wouldn’t go there. He was happy.
Which left Knight unhappy.
That was the crux of it. Lake didn’t care for Knight being lonely. It filled his chest with a hollow ache.
“This is ridiculous,” Lake decided. “You’re too good-looking to waste away waiting for someone who’ll never love you back.”
Knight grimaced and leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “I should focus on never being loved back, but I confess it’s the good-looking comment that snagged me.”
“Don’t let it snag your modesty. Humility is part of your package.”
The flicker in Knight’s eye had Lake flushing.
He quickly refocused on his screen, almost relieved when Philip leaped off the couch and sauntered into the dining room.
