“I’m going to hop in the shower.”
Calvin nodded and threw on a pair of briefs.
In the kitchen, he stared into the fridge. It was late in the day, after lunch but before dinner. He didn’t know if Emory would be coming back, and he didn’t want to call him and ask, but he also didn’t want Emory to show up and have there not be enough food for him. One of the things he and Graham had often fought about was the way they’d stopped sharing meals. Calvin had been at work so much, and with Graham’s fluctuating schedule, moments were sometimes barely stolen and sometimes lost. He sighed, then startled when he felt cold hands wrap around his stomach.
“What are you thinking about?” Graham asked, breath warm and minty against his ear.
“I thought you were going to shower.” Calvin closed the fridge.
“I did.”
“Oh.” Calvin rubbed his face.
“Have you been staring into the fridge this whole time?” Graham chuckled.
“Apparently?”
“Go sit, I’ll make us something.”
“No.” Calvin stopped him with a hand to the chest. He pushed Graham toward the table. “I want to.”
“Alright.” Graham slipped into the chair at the head of the table and watched Calvin return to the kitchen.
Back at the fridge, he scavenged some ground beef from one of the drawers. He grabbed cheese and lettuce, and a loaf of bread from the pantry. He set to work making burgers, ensuring there was one for Emory, in case he showed up.
“Do you think I’m boring?” he asked, dropping one of the burger patties into a hot pan. He pressed it down with a spatula and glanced toward Graham, who hadn’t taken his eyes off him.
Graham winged up an eyebrow. “You’re…predictable.”
Calvin puffed out a breath and flipped the burger patty. “That’s boring.”
“You’re not boring,” Graham chuckled. “You like the things you like, and you stick with them.”
“Do you think I work too much?” Calvin scooped the cooked patty off the pan and slid it onto a piece of bread.
Graham snapped his mouth closed and, for the first time, looked away.
“So, that’s a yes,” Calvin surmised, leafing some lettuce and slicing a tomato. He assembled the burger and dropped some plain chips onto the plate. He threw a second burger patty on the pan and picked up the plate. He took it to Graham, and as he turned to go, Graham grabbed his wrist and spun him back.
“You work too much,” Graham confirmed softly.
“Did I make you feel less than important?” For as naked as he felt, Calvin wished he was at least wearing more clothes.
Graham slid his fingers up Calvin’s arm and pulled him down. He let himself be moved into Graham’s lap, his burger forgotten in the pan.
“Not lately,” Graham bumped his nose against the side of Calvin’s neck and kissed him there.
“But before.”
Graham nodded. No other answer was needed.
“I’m sorry,” Calvin whispered, resting his forehead on Graham’s shoulder.
Graham’s arms slid around him, warm and secure. “I know, Cal.”
“Forgive me.”
“Forgiven,” Graham promised.
“I’ll put you first.” Calvin closed his eyes and focused on the warmth of Graham’s arms. “And him, if he comes back. I know that I was less than willing to try again, but I need you so much, Graham. I’m so sorry.”
In his ear, Graham sniffled, and he rolled his face across Calvin’s shoulder, hot tears smearing across his skin.
“Thank you.” Graham’s voice was barely audible.
Regret roiled through Calvin’s stomach, gurgling and making his bones ache. He dug his fingers into Graham’s back and held him tighter than he ever had before, not willing to lose sight of the chance he’d been given. Calvin had been the one who was ready to move on, but it was apparent now that he would never be ready to give his husband up.
“I need to tell you something,” Calvin leaned back and wiped at his eyes, then wiped at Graham’s eyes. He squinted, face burning.
When he and Graham had first separated, he’d had Zach call up a friend who specialized in family law and asked to have divorce papers drawn up. Zach hadn’t ever given him the papers, so nothing had been discussed or signed. It wasn’t real, but in this moment, it sat heavy in Calvin’s heart and he needed to put it out there. He needed Graham to know he was really all-in.
A shrill noise blared and Calvin’s hands flew to his ears. He scrunched his nose, and Graham laughed, pushing him away. It took a moment to register the noise was the smoke alarm.
His burger.
Calvin ran to the kitchen and shoved the burger pan onto a different burner, turning off the flame. Graham slid a chair to the doorway and stood on it, pulling the detector down and hitting the reset button. Calvin flipped the fan in the oven hood on and used his hands to unsuccessfully move away the smoke from his charred brick of beef.
Graham approached him and wrapped his hands around Calvin’s shoulders and turned him toward the dining room.
“You don’t need to cook to prove to me that you’re in this.” Graham swatted his ass and pushed him away.
“Fine,” Calvin grumbled, bypassing the dining room table. He opened the windows that overlooked the back yard and padded through the house to open the front door, hoping there was a breeze to blow the smoke through and out.
“Be sure you make one for Emory,” he called over his shoulder as he opened the front door.
“Make what for me?” Emory stood on the porch with a hand raised to knock. His eyes widened and he scanned Calvin from head to toe, and Calvin remembered he was only in his underwear. His cheeks heated from the appraisal.
Emory coughed. Waving his hand in front of his face.
“Are you trying to burn the house down?”
“Not on purpose.” Calvin stepped out of the open doorway and Emory stepped inside, taking the frame in hand and pushing the door closed behind him.
“I feel painfully overdressed,” Emory mused, reaching out and dragging a finger up Calvin’s chest.
“You are.” Calvin wobbled on his feet, closing his eyes and letting himself be weakened by Emory’s hand.
Two thuds followed a quiet swish of fabric, and Calvin opened his eyes, smiling at a now mostly naked Emory.
“Better?” Emory asked.
“I approve.” He stepped closer and took Emory’s slender waist under his hands. Emory’s skin was warm and he smelled like lemons.
“Are you here?” he asked, closing the space between them until Emory’s chest pressed against his.
Emory made a sound in his throat, but quieted himself before answering seriously, “I’m here.”
Calvin cradled Emory’s head in his hands and kissed him, walking him backward until Emory’s back landed against the front door. He split Emory’s mouth open with his tongue and kissed him until Emory’s cock was wet against Calvin’s briefs and his breathing labored.
“Me too,” he replied, separating their mouths.
Emory sucked in a sharp lungful of air, his pupils shot.
“And Graham?” Emory tenderly rubbed his fingers across his already kiss swollen lips.
“Yeah.” Graham’s voice came from behind him, rough and gravelly. Calvin looked over his shoulder and found Graham in the space between the kitchen and the dining room where the front door was visible. He had a plate with two burgers in one hand, his pajama pants covered cock in the other. “Now come eat, both of you.”
“You didn’t need to cook. Zach already got my accounts freed up.”
“What was the deal with all that anyway?”
“Just my father trying to keep pulling strings from beyond the grave. It’s resolved now.”
Graham gestured toward the table with the burgers. “Come eat then.”
“Alright, tiger.” Twining their hands together, Emory led Calvin into the dining room.
Twenty
Graham
“Is this weird?” Emory scrunched up his nose and closed the car door behind him.
“Why is going on a date weird?”
“Well.” Emory gestured around himself dramatically. “There’s three of us.”
“How illicit,” Graham teased, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto the driver’s seat before closing the door.
They were one month into this new relationship between the three of them, and Emory had convinced them all to take a trip up the coast. They’d gotten up early and hit the road, making a stop in wine country for brunch at Mallory Vineyard, where Calvin picked up another bottle of the merlot he liked so much, and Emory had picked up the idea that they should go to the beach.
“We’re not dressed for this,” Calvin grumbled, shielding his eyes from the sun and looking out toward the ocean.
“Careful, boss,” Emory teased, raising his hands to the collar of Calvin’s shirt. “You’re sounding terribly boring.
“I’m not boring.”
“I know.” Emory popped open the first three buttons of Calvin’s shirt and jogged around the hood of the car, lacing his fingers with Graham’s. His other hand dipped under the hem of Graham’s loose t-shirt and moved upward, his nails scratching against his chest.
“I’m not,” Calvin repeated. He flattened his palm against Graham’s back and stood still, the three of them staring at the ocean together.
“I know,” Graham assured him.
There was a time, a long time, where Graham had thought Calvin to be boring. Calvin had become so focused on work and making partner at Oglethorpe and Schulz that his attention had become centered on the time he spent at work, and the cases at work, and making Zach happy, and work, and work, and work.
Graham would never say that Calvin’s dedication to his job was what had tanked their relationship, but it was a catalyst. Graham found it hard to enjoy spending time with Calvin on the rare times he wasn’t at work because Graham was either tired himself, or found the attention from Calvin to feel faked. In addition to the fact they’d been together so long, what had always felt homey and comfortable to Graham turned into a barren prison.
And he’d been no better. Not talking to Calvin about how he was feeling and shutting down emotionally. After Calvin had realized something was wrong, Graham was already in disaster recovery mode, fighting to hold on to any last sliver of his emotional well-being.
Then, things had gotten really bad. His silence was met with angry words, his tears with a cold shoulder. Graham could see the confusion and the pain in Calvin’s eyes, but he’d felt helpless to stop it. He’d built up so much resentment toward his husband that it seeped into every thought he had. If Calvin brought home dinner, Graham found fault. If Calvin tried to take him on a date, Graham was churlish and rough around the edges.
Calvin eventually had stopped trying, and Graham offered to go.
Biggest. Mistake. Ever.
Emory’s hand slid away from his chest and Graham watched him bend down and loosen the laces on his shoes. He stripped out of his shoes and socks, then folded his jeans up as high as he could manage. They were skinny and tight, and Graham hadn’t been able to stop looking at his ass.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t want to get my jeans wet. Nothing is worse than wet jeans.”
“Are you planning on going in?” Calvin asked. “It’s cold. You’ll get sick.”
Emory rolled his eyes and chucked. “It’s not that cold yet, Dad.”
Graham laughed and kissed Calvin on the side of his forehead.
“Are you coming?” Emory called, jogging backward, his toes already buried in the sand.
“This is more your speed,” Calvin told him with a pat on his ass.
Graham kicked off his shoes and pulled his jeans up. “Are you not coming?”
A flicker of past resentment shimmered around the edges of his vision and he blinked it away.
“I’ll come,” Calvin assured him. “You go, now.”
Graham dropped his shoes and walked toward Emory, who was at the water’s edge.
“Hey, tiger.” Emory held out his hand and Graham took it.
“Hey.”
Emory stepped closer, tucking himself against Graham’s chest and staring out silently at the waves as they lapped against the shore.
“You happy?” Emory’s voice was barely louder than the sea.
“I can’t think of a time I’ve been happier,” Graham admitted. “You?”
“My father is in the ground, the house is on the market, I have two men that like to fuck me. I’d say I’m doing all right.” Emory wrapped his arms around Graham’s side.
Emory had fought with Zach and Carson about having a funeral. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but both attorneys had stressed the importance of a proper send-off. Emory’s realtor had pulled him aside after the fact, picking up on Emory’s total lack of interest in anything Edgewood and reminded him the funeral would make the news and in turn push visibility on the listing for the house.
He’d relented, playing the part of dutiful and mourning son, choosing to sit alone in the front pew during the service. Father O’Halloran had done a lovely job eulogizing a man that so many people hated, and as soon as it was over, Emory had been in Calvin’s bed, naked and pumping Calvin’s and Graham’s cocks in his hands.
“Have you and Calvin talked about the living situation at all?”
“What about it?”
A wave crashed, the water crept closer to their feet.
“Have you asked him if you can move back home?” Emory looked up at him.
“No.”
“Are you going to?”
“Why would I?”
In truth, Graham did want to move back home, but he was nervous about things backsliding right back to the way they’d been before they’d met Emory. Graham didn’t believe Emory was the glue holding them together, but him being there helped; there was no denying that.
“Because it’s your house?”
“Are you asking to move in?” Graham dropped a kiss against Emory’s nose. Bits of salt clung to the tips of his eyelashes and his hair whipped around his face.
“Why would I?” Emory parroted Graham’s answer from earlier.
“It’s no different. He and I are married, but starting over. It doesn’t make sense for me to move in if you’re not moving in too.”
“It’s too early for all that nonsense.” Emory turned his attention back to the ocean, but not before Graham recognized a wistful longing dance across his features.
“What nonsense?” Calvin stepped alongside Emory and pressed in, leaning down and resting his cheek against the back of Emory’s hair. Emory shifted his weight and distributed himself evenly between Calvin and Graham with a happy sigh.
“Cohabitating,” Emory answered, and Graham wished he hadn’t. He winced and turned his attention to a raucous game of volleyball down the beach.
“Is it nonsense?”
“Isn’t it?” Graham looked at Calvin, head tilted to the side.
Calvin shrugged. “I don’t know. Emory is going to be homeless soon. You live in an unpacked apartment. It’s not the craziest idea.”
“That is patently un-boring of you, boss,” Emory teased.
Calvin’s cheeks turned red and he looked down at their feet.
“It’s something to think about,” he continued. “Maybe another day or something.”
“Is that what you want?”
“You could come home,” Calvin whispered.
Between them, Emory tensed.
Graham bit the inside of his cheek. How cruel a thing he had wanted so desperately for so long was now within his reach and he was terrified to take it. But not just that, he knew it was wrong. His heart twisted in reaction to Emory, and Graham knew he couldn’t make a move as long as Calvin posed it like that.
“I don’t think that’s gonna work out,” he answered. The taste of hot copper drippe
d against his tongue and he swallowed it down in silence.
“You’re a liar,” Emory rasped.
“I meant what I told you.”
“I feel like I missed an important part of this conversation.” Calvin looked between them, brow furrowed in confusion.
“It’s too soon,” Graham answered.
“We’ve been together eleven years,” Calvin corrected.
Graham exhaled sharply and shook his head. “You and I have, yes. We have not.”
Emory pursed his lips and took a step toward the ocean.
A look of realization washed over Calvin’s face, quickly morphing into regret. “That’s not how I meant any of it.”
“I know, boss.” Emory walked closer to the rising tide, the small waves crashing around his ankles and the tops of his feet.
“That’s not what I meant,” Calvin appealed to Graham.
Emory stood a few paces ahead of them, every consecutive wave reaching higher up his legs.
“You know what we need to do, don’t you?” Graham looked away from Emory and focused on Calvin, who grabbed his hand. It was something they’d discussed before, with raised voices and vitriol, but here on the beach, in this exact moment with Emory, it was an idea Graham found himself at peace with.
“Are you ready for that?” Calvin whispered. “Are we ready for that?”
“He’s in love with you,” Graham answered. “Or he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did to what you said.”
“I’m fucking terrified, G.”
“I know.” Graham swallowed. “But you love him too.”
“I love you,” Calvin’s voice cracked and he blinked up at Graham, eyes as glassy as the ocean.
“I love you.” Graham leaned down and kissed the corner of Calvin’s mouth. “Nothing will ever change that, Cal. But that doesn’t mean we can’t love him too.”
Calvin dropped his forehead against Graham’s chest and wrapped his arms around his back.
“It won’t change anything that we don’t want it to. You know that, right?” Graham whispered against Calvin’s ear. He kissed him there, the warm skin tasting like salt.
Secrets in Edgewood: The Complete Series Page 63
