by Cara Dee
Something was over now. I felt it. A line had been crossed in August’s world.
As I waited for him to say something, anything, I clutched the bracelet like Nonna clutched her Rosary beads. Such a small, insignificant thing, yet it carried more meaning than I could put into words.
August cleared his throat and kept his gaze on the floor. “When you carefully carve out vanilla moments in an otherwise twenty-four-seven-type of kink lifestyle, you don’t get enough reminders that the partner you treat like a little boy on a daily basis knows you better than you know yourself.” The evident defeat in his posture caused my chest to tighten with worry. “He always knew before I did.”
Knew what? It didn’t feel like the right moment to ask questions.
“I’m supposed to be one step ahead.” He blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. “In kink, it works. I know him so well. I can anticipate his needs and be a good Daddy for him.”
I sensed a “but” coming.
“As partners, I can’t say the same,” he admitted. “A couple weeks into our relationship, I just found him precious for saying that we were gonna fall in love. Few months later, similar when he said we’d end up spendin’ the rest of our lives together. He’s… He’s incredibly confident and never hesitates to take risks. And how he reads people so well, I’ll never understand.”
I could relate to the last one. It still baffled me how Camden had extracted that much information about me based on the pictures I uploaded on social media.
“Is there something wrong with him being so attuned to your connection?” I asked hesitantly.
Sounded perfectly balanced to me. August was one step ahead in their kink dynamic, and Camden was one step ahead in their vanilla life.
“Not at all.” He shook his head. “I’m just an old, stubborn fool who hasn’t learned to listen properly yet. Imagine it yourself. Some guy twenty-five years younger than you storms in and lets you know what you want in life. For chrissakes, by the time he was born, I was well on my way to becomin’ head chef at a restaurant in Vegas. I’d broken a couple hearts and had my own shattered too. I opened my first restaurant before he started kindergarten.”
I smiled faintly and stuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans. I’d been on the receiving end of this conversation once upon a time, when I’d been with Charles.
August sighed and folded his arms over his chest. He dropped his gaze back to the floor again too. “When Camden and I became more serious, I wasn’t interested in sharing him—or myself, for that matter—with anyone. My playtime days were over, and I feel that way to an extent even today. So whenever he carefully brought it up, or hinted at it, I stowed it away for down the road. He seemed to push for inviting another man to play with us for my sake, and I was happy with the way things were.”
I twisted the bracelet between my fingers in my pocket. “Was?”
He frowned to himself. “I suppose I knew that down the road was comin’ closer and closer.”
And Camden knew too.
“Opening our relationship still feels like a final resort,” he admitted. “Maybe I’m too set in my ways with traditional thinkin’.”
I was certain that was another thing Camden was well aware of, hence handling the pushing by himself.
“Did it ever occur to you that Camden’s happier when you’re happier?” I asked. “I’m not sure finding a second partner is as much about satisfying your needs as it is about completing your dynamic.” That was my impression anyway. Of course, August’s needs were a factor too, but I didn’t think that was all of it. “Without having anything to compare it to, I can only say he’s seemed very happy with our roles this week.”
August nodded slowly, deep in thought. “The whys and hows don’t matter as much anymore, either way. After meeting you, everything’s different.” Then he gestured vaguely at the Christmas wrapping on the island. “Things have changed for Camden too. Callin’ you Daddy is… That’s big for us, Anthony. You mean a great deal to him.”
I clutched the bracelet a little tighter in my pocket and felt the urge to apologize again. I just didn’t know what for. I’m sorry I got under his skin. I’m sorry the three of us have such fucking great chemistry. I wasn’t sorry for shit. I was only mourning the fact that I was going to lose it. The shoes I’d filled this week were a temporary thing.
“It’s mutual,” I replied quietly. “You gotta let me know if you need space, August. You and Camden have barely gotten a moment alone while I’ve been here.”
They’d elaborated a bit the other day on their one and only discussion about me. My first day here. I’d gone to shower in one of the guest rooms, and August had gone upstairs to shower and talk to Camden. Who had pleaded with August to talk less and do more. Let’s just see where this goes. If you’re attracted to him, run with it, Daddy. Just run with it. Go all in. In Camden’s words.
“We do need to talk,” August agreed. “But it’ll have to wait till after the weekend.” He took two short steps until he was right in front of me, and he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “He’s not wrong, you know. I saw the note too.”
I swallowed uneasily and side-eyed him as he put on his bracelet. He wore a small but proud smile, one of a father.
“Where’s yours?” he asked.
I retrieved it from my pocket.
“I know one thing for sure,” he murmured and slipped the bracelet onto my wrist. “This doesn’t end with you returnin’ to New York. It can’t.”
Cazzo, was he serious?
Soon as the bracelet was on, he cupped my jaw and kissed me hard. “I need this weekend with you, baby.”
I shuddered, a storm of emotions surging forward, and wrapped my arms around his middle. “Don’t make it the last.” I felt assertive enough to say that, at least. “I’m not strong enough to rip off the Band-Aid with you and Camden.”
“No goddamn ripping,” he agreed against my lips.
I let myself get lost in the kiss and took comfort in our promise of this not being over. At the same time, I wasn’t new. I knew how these things worked. Maybe I’d come down here to visit in a couple months. We hadn’t gone to his restaurant yet—I wanted my date.
Maybe they’d fly up to see me too. But eventually, one visit would be the last. Life got in the way of most long-distance relationships. The odds of one surviving that wasn’t even based on love weren’t in our favor. They’d go on with their lives. I’d hopefully go on with my own back home.
It was gonna hurt like hell, but anything was better than saying a final goodbye on Monday morning.
“Daddy!”
August and I jolted awake and nearly knocked our heads together. A second later, rapid feet padded across the floor outside the bedroom, and I reached over and flicked on the lamp on the nightstand.
Warm light flooded the room, causing me to squint at the form that appeared in the door.
Camden with a bed head.
“Spider or bad dream?” August asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Spider,” Camden mumbled. “I woke up thirsty and saw it on the wall.”
August nodded and climbed out of bed. “I’ll get rid of it, darlin’.”
“Thank you, Daddy. Can I sleep in here with you?”
I extended my arm as August said of course.
Soon, I had Camden crawling up in my arms, and I pulled the duvet to his chin.
“Yay, you’re still wearing the bracelet,” he said softly.
“It’s never comin’ off.” I kissed the top of his head and gathered his hand on my chest. At dinner, he’d worn an entire collection of bracelets on his own wrist. Well, he’d run off to put them on once he’d discovered that August and I loved our gifts.
I didn’t have the heart to tell the boy he’d misspelled one of the Italian terms of endearment I’d given him this week. The bracelet was almost more perfect with the mistake. But there were several others too, from topolino and ciccino to darlin’ and baby boy.
&
nbsp; “Which ones are you wearing now?” I noticed he had two left.
“My favorites.” He smiled sleepily and held up his wrist. “Ragazzo and little one.”
I hummed and gave his forehead a kiss too. “You’ll always be my piccolo ragazzo.”
He sighed happily and burrowed himself deeper into my embrace.
After we heard the toilet flush, it wasn’t long before August returned and said the spider was gone. Then he joined us in bed, and we sandwiched Camden between us.
“I’ll give it ten minutes before he declares it’s too hot and Daddy’s snoring too loudly,” August said with a pinch of amusement.
I closed my eyes and grinned, and Camden giggled. Ten minutes—better savor the moment, then.
“I don’t recall Daddy and me giving you permission to be this cranky.” I spoke against the top of Camden’s head as I hugged him to me, making it impossible for him to escape.
I knew coming out of a regressive period took its toll on him, but I had to admit he’d reached a whole new level of cute. He’d joined us for breakfast on the patio a few hours ago looking like a grumpy teenage gamer, with his sweats, hoodie, shaggy hair, and black-framed reading glasses. And as much as the Little in him enticed me, I wanted to get to know this Camden too. The young man who worked as a content creator at a gaming company, the one who produced cooking tutorials and cursed like a sailor, the one who sported inked cuffs around his calves of his favorite Star Wars characters and had his eyebrow and nipples pierced.
The one who knew August better than the man knew himself.
“You’re fogging my glasses,” Camden groused against my chest.
I slipped my hands into his hair and tugged back a little, forcing him to peer up at me with the same scowl he’d worn throughout breakfast.
“There. Fog’s gone.” I dipped down and kissed him briefly. “Anything else we can do to help August?”
He should be back from the store any minute, and he’d put us in charge of fixing a lunch we could eat while we prepared for the barbecue.
Camden looked over his shoulder at the kitchen island. “I don’t think so. It’s a little early to do the salad.”
The meat was already soaking in different types of marinade, though. Pork tenderloin, chicken wings, and New York strip. The last one rested mostly in oil, sea salt, beer, and black pepper. Then there was a plate of sausage, burger patties, and lamb kabobs too. August had essentially emptied the fridge and freezer last night.
Camden had provided a list of sides he was going to make that included roasted potatoes, vegetable skewers, coleslaw, steakhouse fries, onion rings, and mac and cheese.
Not for the first time around these two, I felt a bit useless. I’d insisted August take my credit card before going to the store, to which he’d raised a brow, then chuckled and walked off.
If they ever did come visit me in New York, I was going to up my game.
“Look at that fuckin’ tan!” Nicky exclaimed, right after stepping off the bus.
I grinned and walked over to him. Growing up, Pop always called us Irish in the winter and Italian in the summer. My lily-white ass had just gotten a head start this year.
“Welcome to the South, bambino.” I gave him a hug and watched the others get off the bus too.
Eight members of our gospel choir from back home, including Maria, Matthew, Sylvia, and Luiz. Then Chris, Nicky’s friend and our bass player. They didn’t look very tired at all. I assumed they’d gotten at least some rest and freshened up at their hotel.
“Papi!” Maria beamed at me and ran into my arms, and I hugged her tightly. I had over a decade on the girl, but she would always be the mother in our group. I’d say she and Matthew were the most influential members of the choir, and I was happy they’d both signed up to be part of our gig.
Matt and I had gone to high school together, so it was nice to have a buddy around too.
“What a beautiful place,” Gideon commented as he took in his surroundings. He was usually sporting a bespoke suit, so it was nice to see Nicky had convinced him to go casual. Well, casual for him. The dress pants were probably still tailored to fit him perfectly, but the fitted pullover brought him out of the boardroom.
“Let’s go inside,” I said. “I’ll introduce ya’s to August and Camden.”
“Fuck yeah, you will,” Nicky replied slyly.
“I’ll introduce you last, punk,” I told him.
He didn’t say anything at first. He just walked over to me and gripped the back of my belt and—what the fuck?
“The fuck’re you doin’?” I frowned, smacking away his hand. Why was my kid brother tryna see my ass?
“No tan lines! That’s what’s up.” Nicky smirked.
Ignoring the guffaws that erupted around us, I stared at him incredulously, then exclaimed, “Boundaries, Nicky! Behave—non fare lo spiritoso con me. Gabeesh?”
“I’m not getting smart wit’chu,” he laughed, speaking with his hands. “You’re my brother—your business is mine. Deal with it.”
I smacked him upside the head. “Scordatelo.” I told him to forget it. “You be good, or I’ll let Gideon know exactly how to make you heel.”
Nicky instantly backed up and showed his palms.
Gideon cleared his throat. “I’m all ears.”
“Soon as we get home,” I promised.
Christ. Fuckin’ animals around this place…
As I blew out a breath and got my shit together, it was just my luck to spot August and Camden in the kitchen window, both with matching grins.
Fuck my life.
Chapter 14
Feet, Don’t Fail Me Now
The biggest rush had to be watching the sea of people jumping up and down to the fast beat as a single unit.
Sylvia killed it on my Hammond, Nicky played and moved around like he was high on cocaine, and I slammed on the strings of my electric as Luiz raised the tempo.
Don’t slow me down.
Don’t fail me.
Luiz hit the snare hard right after I’d gotten out my bottleneck slide again, and then I took a step back from the mic and let my guitar wail in a solo.
I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised that everyone got along well that evening. There was someone for everyone, and the food and drinks put us in high spirits. Throughout the night, I saw little groupings of happy chatter. Camden and Nicky, Maria and Chris and August, Gideon and August, who were then joined by Sylvia and Luiz. No one sat in their seat for very long. With the food set up around the grill, we constantly had a reason to get up and stumble upon another conversation.
“You look happy, papi.” Maria joined Matt and me where we were having a smoke a few feet away from everyone.
I frowned. “You haven’t started smoking again, have you?”
She raised a manicured brow. “Don’t you think you’re the wrong person to get on a soapbox, huh?”
“No.” I stared at her and exhaled some smoke.
Matt snorted.
She rolled her eyes. “Please. I only came over to say you look happy.”
Oh. Well, good. I relaxed my stance. “It’s been a good week.”
She chuckled. “Come on, Anthony. That’s all you’re gonna say? We wanna know about August and Camden. They seem sweet. And August’s scopin’ you out as soon as you’re not nearby.”
I’d known this was coming. “I love you, Maria, but everyone knows you’re Nonna’s eyes and ears on the ground. I’m not giving you gossip.”
She cursed under her breath and appeared to strategize for a second attempt, but I was saved by Luiz and Chris.
A little past midnight, only a handful of people were still here. Luiz had volunteered to be the designated driver earlier, and he’d taken some tired friends back to the hotel around eleven. And when he returned, August decided to strike, evidently. He threw the offer of available guest rooms on the table, resulting in a quiet stare-down among everyone. Silent questions. Should we? What do you say? Anyone up for it? Wh
ile Luiz’s expression mostly made it clear that he really fucking wanted a drink.
I could sense that Chris and Nicky were on board too, though my brother would leave it up to Gideon, who reached his limit for social interactions faster.
“What time do we have rehearsal tomorrow?” Maria asked.
“Ten-thirty’s our slot,” I answered.
I lifted my arm as Camden came back from the snack table with a bowl of chips, and he cuddled up against my chest.
“And we’re leaving the bus there, right?” Nicky asked for clarification.
I inclined my head. Three bands would play on “our” stage tomorrow, so after the rehearsal, we’d stow everything in the bus again. Then Matt, Luiz, and I would head out in my truck and rent vehicles for the day. Some sight-seeing would follow before it was time to get back to the festival area and get ready.
We took the stage at ten and would be one of the three bands closing for the day. Two smaller stages, one main stage.
“I’d like to stay,” Gideon said. “But I’ll probably retire in a little while.”
Maria nodded. “Yeah, same. I’m so tired, but Dio, waking up to this view…?” She gestured toward the paddocks that were cloaked in darkness now. “Thank you for letting us stay here, August.”
“It’s our pleasure,” he responded. “Camden and I have gotten a little too good at closin’ ourselves in. Having Anthony with us this week has made me miss hostin’ dinners.”
I put my hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze.
It opened up a new conversation—about family dinners, parties, and barbecues—and I was content just to listen. Nicky filled in for me anyway. He spoke animatedly about our holidays and how we spent them, and how Nonna had mercilessly pushed us down the ranks in favor of Gideon lately.
I grinned.
“I can relate to that,” Camden chimed in. “My family prefers August over me.”
