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Martin sank to his knees and read the page over again. He looked up at Harry, eyes glistening, and Harry knelt, rubbing Martin’s arms, asking if he was okay—

Martin kissed him.

God, Lake loved love.

Harry boldly told Lake he wasn’t returning with him. He had a place at Martin’s. And Lake backed triumphantly into Knight, curling Knight’s arms around his waist, effectively giving their relationship status away.

Harry smiled and told them to hurry off, he had important things to . . . do.

The car ride home was spent deciding what Lake would wear to Harry’s wedding. They parked outside of their home, and Knight told him to go ahead while he helped Cameron, who was struggling to lift a massive armchair out of a trailer.

Lake sprang up the Dixon—Dixon-Lakewood?—porch and halted, tip of the key in the door.

What was that?

The groaning of floorboards. He heard it again.

Fear jumped into Lake’s throat. Knight was helping Cameron. Harry was with Martin.

He stole around the side of the house. Through the window, he caught a shadowy figure.

Intruder.

Lake grabbed a baseball bat from the back shed and let himself in through the back door. His grip was sweaty as he snuck through the hall and followed the sound of the TV to the living room doorway. He jumped into the room with a warrior-cry, brandishing the bat—

Taylor leaped in fright onto the couch, hands raised.

“Taylor?”

“Lake?”

Lake dropped his arm.

“What the hell are you doing scaring me with my own bat?” Taylor slowly uncurled from fright and slumped back into the couch cushions.

Lake cringe-smiled and tossed himself into Knight’s armchair. The end of the bat smacked against the floor. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Taylor rolled his eyes. He looked nothing like his dad. Only echoes of Knight came through in some of his expressions. Especially the leveled looks. Like the one Taylor was giving him now.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lake said.

Taylor found the remote and switched off the TV. He rubbed his thighs and looked at Lake. “Actually, I came to chat with you.”

“What’s so urgent you had to break into the house?”

“I used the spare key. Is it really breaking in if I grew up here?”

“Yeah, maybe not. A heads up next time though. You wouldn’t want to give your old man a heart-attack.”

Taylor laughed, nervously. “I’m more worried about giving myself a heart attack.”

Lake frowned, throat constricting. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not blind, Lake. I got the Josh-part wrong, but I didn’t misread Dad’s mood. He’s in love, and I think,” Taylor met his gaze, “he’s in love with you.”

Lake’s breath hitched. His grip tightened on Taylor’s bat.

Taylor continued, “Everything you said at the Ask Austen party. You meant it, didn’t you?”

Lake unfroze. He stood and dropped the bat into the chair, giving up on explaining the backstory. He met Taylor’s eyes. “I meant every word of it. I love your dad.”

Taylor’s gaze shot sideways. Knight stood in the doorway, clutching his keys.

The air thickened, weighted with honeysuckle and Lake’s admission.

Dropping his keys, Knight strode toward him, cradled his head, and kissed him. The power of that simple kiss stunned Lake. So brief, yet packed with an intensity Lake had never felt before. An exclamation mark. A yes to anything Lake could ever ask for.

Knight rested his forehead against Lake’s, mirroring the smile pulling at his lips. “Any questions, Taylor?” His voice was steady, confident, sure.

Taylor picked Garfield up and planted her on his lap. “Only about a hundred, Dad. But”—he smooched Garfield between the ears—“for now . . . I’m happy for you guys.”

Knight smiled widely, and Lake let out a shuddering breath of relief.

“Anything else pressing?” Knight asked Taylor.

“Do I have to call him dad, too?”

Lake stifled a laugh against Knight’s shoulder, “Say yes.”

Knight cherishingly petted his hair. “No. Now if that’s all, you have a choice. Kindly head home, or brace for a heart attack.”

Garfield scurried free as Taylor leaped to his feet. He paused in his haste, just long enough to grin back at them, then kicked off out of sight with a laugh.

The front door shut, and Knight linked their fingers. “First lunch.”

Lake squeezed his hand, pulling him back around. “First, one other thing.” He slid his arms around Knight’s neck and kissed those ever-smiling lips. “I love you.”

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