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At the end of the day, Lyon found Bennet where he was sitting at the base of a lumpy pine, head tilted back against the bark, bathing in the sunset glowing through the old greenhouse.
With an oof, Lyon dropped next to him. “Why are you hanging out here?”
Bennet shrugged. “Just thinking.”
“What about?”
“I always believed in love—extraordinary, infallible love—but it seems the more I see, the more I realize it doesn’t exist.”
“Maybe ‘cause you’re wishing for perfection?” Lyon ground his shoe into the grass. “I reckon you gotta look past a few bad impressions. Like the town, they were a little wary at first, sorta didn’t know what to make of us both being gay, but once they gave us a chance . . . I mean, some are still ridiculously un-PC, and I know I shock ’em a bit with my loud mouth, but they’re kinda giving us a chance, right? Maybe they’re realizing we’re worth loving too.”
Bennet slung an arm around Lyon and hugged him tight. He protested for a few seconds before sinking into the hold and squeezing Bennet back, albeit briefly. “You’re worth loving.”
Lyon squirmed free. “And I’m saying, maybe others are worth it too. They just might be harder to spot.”
“Will was not the guy. There was always something missing.” Bennet sighed. “I didn’t even care when he said he was in love with someone else. I felt nothing but vague regret.”
“Regret?”
“That I’d even sort-of dated him.”
The first evening, he’d spent the entire time trying to figure out Will’s connection with Darcy, and the second had been all about chasing a missing connection that he never found. A quick, empty thrill in the end. Disappointing.
Lyon tossed stray pebbles toward the greenhouse, skimming the blades of the grass. One tinkered against the door and Lyon hurrahed himself.
Bennet pushed out a laugh and closed his eyes again.
He might be disillusioned with romantic love, but love itself was still real; Lyon was here, simply sitting at his side staring into the same sunset, telling him not to lose hope.
Dear Bennet,
Excuse me if this is inappropriate, but I heard from Caroline that you, Lyon, and Charlie have been staying in the house next door to her mother. I hope you’re enjoying Port Ratapu and I’m sorry we haven’t run into one another.
Caroline said you all enjoyed dinner with her last night, and that you’d mentioned a fancy for seeing penguins. My daughter runs Scout Little Penguins, up on the Paripari cliffs outside of town, and she’d be most happy to run a private tour for you and your friends. If you’re interested.
* * *
Take care,
Darcy
Bennet reread the email.
They’d been in Port Ratapu for three days and Bennet had been constantly on alert for sightings of Darcy. He wanted to be prepared to quell the nervous mix in his stomach. With another three days remaining before they returned to Cubworthy, he had begun to think he’d get away without any contact.
It’d be awkward running into Darcy after the week he had spent—out of social obligation—tending to Bennet. Darcy had seen him at his worst, and he wasn’t so immune to Darcy’s appeal that he wasn’t a little mortified at the fact.
“Benny!” came Lyon’s voice from over his shoulder. “You have to say yes.”
Bennet twisted on the cushioned dining table chair. Lyon stood against a backdrop of books and board games and china dog figurines, alternating between Bennet’s screen and the tiny one in his hand. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know you’ve read that email at least twice. What’s to think about? It’s penguins, and it doesn’t sound like Darcy will be tagging along.”
“I’m sorry. You. You’re interested in penguins?”
The scent of freshly-made cheese scones wafted in from the kitchen, along with the sound of Charlie and Olivia sharing a good ol’ joke.
“I like more than cock you know.” Lyon stacked the order with his hands. “Cock. The ticklishness of long grass around my ankles. Penguins. Everything else.”
“Such varied interests. Where do I rank?”
Lyon waved his hand toward the floor. “Everything else.”
The warmly cluttered space immediately soaked up Bennet’s laughter.
“Besides,” Lyon continued, hopping plaintively on the spot. “I need to distract myself. William is busy with family stuff again. Barely answers my texts.” He shook his phone as if that might magically produce a long-awaited answer.
Bennet feared the cold shoulder he was getting had more to do with family stuff and sympathy urged him to reply to Darcy. “There. I sent him my number. If he calls, we can—”
Bennet leaped out of his chair as his ass began to vibrate. No way could Darcy be that fast. He wasn’t the sort to stare at his phone waiting for a response, surely. Especially from someone he didn’t much know.
“How long are you gonna stare at it?” Lyon said.
Bennet moved onto the balcony, shut the sliding door and stared out over the nest of suburban streets. Beyond, on a large hill, a thickly wooded town belt bordered a stunning stone mansion. Darcy’s property, Olivia had told him yesterday.
