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Ambrose and Raf exchanged a look and then burst out laughing. “He turned her down, and when we got back to the car, she’d put her number onall the cars. I hope she found someone with all that effort.”
“It was truly one of those times I was sad she wasn’t my type. She was very pretty and even better, very funny.”
Ambrose shook his head. “See what I put up with?” he asked Barrett, tone teasing.
Raf slung his arm around Ambrose’s shoulders, the movement easy, unforced. And with Barrett grinning at them and Dandi bouncing around their heels, Ambrose could feel his anxiety melt. Even with everything going on, these two men made him feel more relaxed and at home than anything else possibly could.
Ambrose took them inside and let Raf get settled in his guest room while Barrett puttered around the kitchen. But when Ambrose came back from helping Raf with his luggage, Barrett was standing by the kitchen island, hands jammed in his pockets. “I should go, get out of your hair,” he said quietly, gaze meeting Ambrose then flicking away. “You and Raf catch up.”
“Barrett.” He drew closer, close enough to put his hands on Barrett’s arms and slide them down until he could pull those hands from worn jean pockets. “I want you here. And trust me, Raf absolutely wants you here. You’re not in any way at all. Please stay.”
The moment Ambrose pulled Barrett’s hands out, the other man linked their fingers together and dipped his head. His kiss was soft and his breath warm on Ambrose’s lips. The gentleness made a lump form in his throat and his heart hammer against his ribs. “Make you a deal,” Barrett said, sliding his mouth across Ambrose’s jaw and pulling a shiver from him. “You two catch up, relax. And I’ll make all three of us dinner.” The worry had bled off Barrett’s face, thankfully. “Kinda my way of meeting in the middle. If that’s all right. I know how important Raf is and you two need your time together.”
Barrett couldn’t see it, but every syllable of his sweetness and care was poking holes in all of Ambrose’s defenses. And boyfriend or not, there were parts of Ambrose that had to contend with how much his life had changed for the better after moving out to Lake Honor. “Okay,” he whispered back, stealing another kiss. “But promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“That’s a dangerous promise.”
“I know.” Barrett combed Ambrose’s hair away from his face with gentle fingers. “Maybe I like a little danger when you’re involved.”
He tried to huff but Barrett just laughed softly. “Raf’s an early to bed kind of person. So around ten he’ll start yawning. We should light a fire in the pit outside, have some drinks, and then let him wander off to bed.”
One dark eyebrow went up ever so slightly. “And then?”
Ambrose kissed him, harder now, urgency thrumming in his veins. “I’ll get on my knees and you let me do the work.”
“Playing with fire, Ambrose.”
Ambrose nipped at his jaw, dragging a breathy moan from Barrett. “I’ve always been good with fire, Barrett.”
Chapter twenty-three
Thebluepainter’stapestood out in stark relief against the grey of the wall, but Barrett stepped back anyways. He wanted to make sure the lines were centered and equal, since the tape was creating diagonal lines, corner to corner, and they needed to be exact. Painting walls wasn’t his idea of a good time; it made his neck and back hurt and he’d have to keep Dandi and her tail of death away from the wall. But the nervous energy that had been building for days - hell, weeks - was at a crescendo. He had plans, big ones, for Ambrose’s birthday and he wanted it to be right.
Ambrose and Rafwere out for their usual hike. They’d invited Barrett along but there was no way he was going to crash their tradition. What lay between he and Ambrose was new and they were learning, but he would never step into something as precious and important as the best friend slash brotherly bond those two shared. He knew Raf was important, maybethemost important person in Ambrose’s life and seeing them together had only cemented that understanding.
He spent the morning approving the last page spreads for Perry’s book. Easier to hand them off to Raf in person. And looking at the spreads reminded him how much his life has changed in just a short amount of time. Maybe the clichéidea of holding tighter to what you had after experiencing a loss was really true. Barrett was certainly determined to cling to the good things a little tighter now.
That frame of mind had then driven him into the work shed, looking for the old plans he’d made to paint a few lines on the wall outside the kitchen. He’d tossed the paint and tape into the shed after Perry died. It just didn’t hold any importance or interest then. But now with the spring air heavy with damp and the flowers in full bloom, he saw a chance to plug some holes, as it were. Finish a few things and leave room for the new. That’s what spring was about, right?
Dandi was outside, on a long lead attached to the front porch. And she was the reason Barrett’s attention was drawn to something outside; he heard her barking over the podcast Ambrose had recommended to him.
His hackles were up as he set down the brush and peered out one of the front windows. Someone in a black jacket and grey slacks stood a few yards from Ambrose’s front porch, their face hidden by a scarf and hat. From the angle he had, he couldn’t see any identifying markers. That strange tingling sensation of awareness had him eyeing the axe he’d left outside with the intent to chop wood later.
He stepped out onto his own porch and said, “There a reason you’re hanging outside my neighbor’s house?”
The figure turned and Barrett saw droopy eyes and a slightly red nose. They pulled down their scarf to say, “Making sure I had the correct house. You’re Barrett, right?” The man gave him an up-and-down that was a little too invasive for curiosity.
Barrett dipped his head slightly. “I am. You lost?”
The man smiled and withdrew a business card from his pocket. “Adam Waine, private detective.”
Barrett took the card, leaning forward slightly but not stepping down off the porch. Forcing the man to approach him and Dandi...and come on his property. “All well and good, Mr. Waine, but you didn’t answer my question.”
The man smiled, big and genuine, and Barrett instinctively wanted to punch him. He knew that was a strong reaction to someone smiling but this man oozed like an oil slick. It must have been a job requirement for smoozy private dicks or something. Waine rocked back on his heels, not stepping away from Barrett’s proximity. “Your neighbor’s mother hired me to look after him. She’s worried about him.”
Barrett bristled. “You make a habit of spying on grown adults for their overbearing parents?”
