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Now the kids were all playing together, and sure enough, they came charging in like wild animals smelling the vegetables and crackers. He already knew from his prior experience babysitting when Donaldson had the surgery that these boys could eat and eat. But Isaiah was prepared, like a pit crew at an Indy race, bringing out even more food and drinks before shooing them back to the huge container of interlocking blocks.

“I owe you so big,” Bacon said to Isaiah. “Seriously, what do you want? Need to borrow my truck for hauling materials again?”

“I have my own now. Be sure to admire my shiny new landscaping logo on it when you take a look. And what I want is for you to tell me what’s going on with you. Mark’s been worried about you. You ghosted everyone for months, then all of a sudden you’re back and in super-helpful friend mode, but you don’t seem very happy.”

“I was seeing someone. We broke up. End of story. Tell Wizard I’m fine.”

“Tell Wizard what?” Wizard came loping in through the kitchen door, and Bacon had to take a step back to avoid Isaiah barreling right through him on his way to greet Wizard. Isaiah’s whole body seemed to vibrate with energy at the sight of his husband, and he all but launched himself into his arms. With no apparent mind for Bacon standing right there, they shared a lengthy, tender kiss. Their love was so palpable that it hurt, caused an ache right behind his sternum, watching them. Wizard had been gone on a training exercise a few days, but the way they greeted each other, one would think it had been months.

I want that. Want that in my life. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that thought while watching them before, but now it just made him ache because he’d been so damn close with Spencer. Everything he wanted right there, a heartbeat away.

His phone buzzed. Please. Please. Please. But the universe didn’t care about his pleas for Spencer to contact him, and the message was from Monica, who was on her way to pick up the kids.

“Did you binge watch that awful show while I was gone?” Mark was teasing Isaiah. “Bet you ate pistachio ice cream and hogged the pillows.”

“Don’t you guys ever have real fights?” Bacon groused.

“Real fights?” Isaiah blinked.

“Yeah, like, a fundamental disagreement. Something that can’t be fixed easily. What happens when you really fight?”

“We talk. A lot.” Mark swiped a handful of the kids’ snacks. “Recently, we went around and around about school—I want private school for the kids, and Isaiah wasn’t so sure, and yeah, I guess you’d call that a real fight. But no one slept on the couch if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“I’m not sure.” Bacon made a frustrated noise. “I mean, is there anything that would be a deal-breaker at this point. Not cheating. Some other sort of deal-breaker.”

“No.” Mark was quick on the answer. “We love each other. We’d talk it out. Work it out. Find a solution. Whatever it was.”

“Yeah,” Isaiah agreed. “There’s not really a deal-breaker if you talk enough, I think.”

Well, wasn’t that just perfect. If only love for everyone was that easy. Fuck. Must be nice to be living in a freaking storybook. All Bacon could do was grunt before he said something mean. Luckily, Monica arrived to get the kids, and everything was a happy chaos of toys getting picked up and car seats getting traded and goodbyes. Mark and Isaiah invited him to stick around for dinner, but Bacon didn’t want to be a third wheel.

Out in his truck, he wasn’t in the mood for music, so he flipped to his preset news station. Only to hear Spencer’s voice and have to pull the fuck over because for a second he thought he was having some sort of hallucination.

But no, Spencer was on an NPR program talking about teens who ran companies and invented shit. And fuck, Bacon missed him so much. His sinuses stung. He remembered when Spencer had been working on the pitch for this piece, how excited he’d been.

“There’s no deal-breakers if you love each other.” Wasn’t that what Isaiah and Wizard had said? He couldn’t buy in to their sunny optimism that love cured everything—he’d seen too much to believe that. But he’d also been trained to see no-win situations and find a way out. Work harder. Smarter. Faster. Never stop trying. Except he didn’t know how to do that here, how to get to a future where love still won out. But he wanted it. Wanted it so bad. And if it was a matter of hard work, could he really live with himself if he never tried?

* * *

The phone rang right as Spencer was fixing himself an espresso in lieu of a real lunch.

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