by Elle Keaton
“I’d do it again,” Carsten said fiercely.
“I’m in love with you, Carsten. This,” Beto tapped his chest, “mi corazón, it beats for you. It wants you. It wants you in my life, in my bed. Since you appeared, I’ve laughed and smiled more than I have in years. I’ve been in love with you for months.”
“Me? Say it again.”
“Yes, you, bobo. I love you.” He tapped Carsten’s nose.
“Bobo cannot be flattering.” He narrowed his eyes at Beto, who chuckled and nuzzled Carsten’s neck.
“I probably knew the first time we met that I could fall for you—if I let myself. All that ridiculous talk about countries that begin with I.”
Carsten shook his head. “I just—”
Beto cupped the face of the man he loved between his palms, making sure Carsten was listening. “You’re not broken. Bent, yeah, but not broken. You’re a survivor—and not only a survivor, but you and Troy hatched a plan to stop the people who hurt you and help anyone else trapped by them. You’re beautiful inside and out; you can do whatever you want to. I would be proud to walk beside you every step of the way.”
“Jesus, you’re going to make me cry again. You really mean that.” There was no inflection; he wasn’t asking a question. Carsten was just stating the truth.
“I do.” The simplest and most powerful answer Beto could muster.
“I love you, Beto Hernández. Yes, I will move to LA with you and marry you.”
“I love you too, Carsten Quinn.”
Beto rested his forehead against Carsten’s, shutting his eyes and losing himself in the flood of emotion.
He was interrupted when Carsten gasped and pulled away. “What time is it?”
Beto looked around. One of their sweaters had been tossed aside, and it covered the digital clock on the nightstand. Reaching over, he tugged it off. “Eleven thirty, why?”
Carsten leapt out of bed and began tugging on random clothing: Beto’s sweater, his own Levi’s, socks, and boots. “Where’s my coat? There it is.” He snatched it up and put it on.
“What are you doing?”
“Come on, Mr. Romance, get dressed! It’s time for the northern lights!”
Chuckling, Beto dressed himself in Carsten’s hoodie, his own jeans, thick socks, and his boots. Their room had a small balcony facing north. Carsten had already unlocked the doors and slid outside, and Beto joined him, standing by his lover and enjoying the view.
Carsten gazed upward, his lips slightly parted, and, sure enough, on the horizon the aurora borealis was putting on a swirling, magical show.
“It’s incredible, isn’t it? So beautiful.”
“Yes, yes it is,” Beto agreed, but he wasn’t watching the sky. He had his eyes on the man he loved.
Carsten glanced over at him, shaking his head and smiling when he realized Beto wasn’t talking about the light show over their heads. “I love you too.” Beto wrapped his arm around Carsten’s waist, and everything was perfect. It wouldn’t always be that way—it couldn’t, not in this world—but everything was perfect for now.
* * *
The End.
Acknowledgments
Thank you, Erik, for believing in me, you believe in me more than I believe in myself. Without your patience, understanding and unfailing sense of humor, books like ‘When It Rains’ would not make it from inside my head to the page (You are amazing).
Without the unfailing persistence and dedication of Alicia Ramos, who edited each and every one of the series, well, obviously the books wouldn’t be what they are. Eight novels and a novella! Thank you Alicia.
To the creators of Jeopardy! and Alex Trebek, Dr. Martens footwear, Converse (and Nike) thank you for the use of your products. Tom Waits and Sia, thank you for the music you create. If I have forgotten to acknowledge someone it is my fault alone.
I should also thank 2Cellos who got a lot of play time during the writing of this book.
And lastly, to my adult children who’ve always encouraged me to write, I love you, thank you for helping me follow my dream – I hope I’m able to help you follow yours.
* * *
Elle
About the Author
Thanks so much for reading my book, I’m Elle Keaton and I hail from the northwet (hahaha) corner of the US where we are known for rain, rain and more rain. I write the Accidental Roots series, set (remarkably) in the Pacific Northwest featuring hot mm romance and the guarantee of a happy ending for my men. They start out broken, and maybe they end up that way too, but they always find the other half of their hearts.
When It Rains is my ninth book.
If you’ve read this far, my next series will be titled ‘Never Too Late’, watch for the first installment late spring/early summer 2019.
Thank you for supporting an indie author.
Feel free to email me with questions about the series or my [email protected].
Follow me, find me, friend me.
Also by Elle Keaton
Storm Season
No Pressure
Spring Break
As Sure As the Sun
River Home
Unforgivable
His Best Man
The North Star
