by Quinn Ward
When I tried maintaining distance, Peter sidestepped, lacing his fingers with mine. I glanced down at our linked hands and then up to see him smiling at me. He leaned his head against my shoulder. “We’re in this together, right?”
“Always.”
Silvio sneered at us before turning to lead us into the house. He motioned for us to take a seat in the formal living room. Nothing had changed since the last time I’d been in their home nearly a decade earlier. The high-backed couch with its gaudy floral print and stuffed to the point the cushions barely moved when you sat on them was still a few feet into the room facing the fireplace. The wing-backed chair we used to call Silvio’s throne was still perpendicular to the couch, his reading glasses folded on the end table next to it alongside a glass of amber liquid dripping with condensation. The fact he’d been drinking already didn’t give me hope for the direction tonight would go.
“Maria, this doesn’t concern you,” he scolded her when she tried to sit on the other side of Peter. She leaned back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Sensing the impending fight, Peter leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She stood and left the room, giving Silvio a death glare the entire way. “Lucia called Gianna and told her it would be for the best if she didn’t come over tonight. Whatever you have to say is between you and me, we don’t need to involve anyone else in our business.”
He looked directly at me as he spoke, obviously expecting me to bow to his subtle hint and leave the room as well. Too bad for him I wasn’t his child and didn’t have to abide by his rules. If he’d been drinking, there was no way in hell Peter was facing him alone. To show him how serious I was, I took Peter’s hand in mine and rested them on my knee.
“Freddie is my business, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Peter told him. Every thread of uncertainty he’d shared with me earlier seemed to have vanished, and he sat straighter on the couch. “I’m moving in with Freddie and wanted you to know.”
“How can this be? What did you do to him when he was so gracious to allow you to stay in his home?” I stiffened at the accusatory tone in Silvio’s voice, resenting the implication I was so weak I could be swayed into liking dick if I was as straight as I’d always led everyone to believe I was.
“I didn’t do anything to him.” Peter slid his hand out of mine, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with his father the entire time. “I don’t have to tell you anything about Freddie’s and my personal business, but know that he is the one who did everything for me. He is the man who proved that I’m worthy of being loved and that not everyone here sees me as an abomination. He accepts me for who I am and isn’t trying to make me fit into a life I don’t want.”
“And he’s worth you throwing away everything you used as reasons you couldn’t come home when your family needed you?” Silvio shot back. His nostrils flared as he dug his fingers into the padded arms of his chair. Seeing his jaw clench made me a bit queasy, remembering the temper he showed whenever Peter dared talk back to him as a child. “You had no problem turning your back on your family because of your silly little whims, but now you’re coming back. For what? For a man who, the last I heard, was still married to a woman? How is that supposed to work?”
“Quite well, thank you.” I hid my laughter behind a cough at Peter’s quick retort, praying he didn’t choose this moment to explain my bisexuality to his father. “The only reason I came over here was so you didn’t hear that I’d moved back through the rumor mill. I wanted to give you the respect of hearing it directly from me.
“My hope is that we can eventually work through our differences and you’ll realize I’m a good man. I know I’m not what you dreamed of in a son and I know you believe I let you down, but I did what I had to in order to live.”
Peter’s voice cracked, and he wiped a tear from his eye. Not giving a damn what Silvio thought, I slid my hand over his back, fitting him against my side. “I love you and it killed me to tell you I couldn’t run the bakery, but believe me when I say I would’ve failed you even more if I’d tried. I wasn’t cut out for that life. And then we’d be in an even worse place because you’d have watched me destroy everything you worked for your entire life. The bakery was your dream, Papa, not mine. Can you see that?”
“What I see is an empty storefront every time I run errands.” Silvio was still angry, but his tone had softened a bit. “Every day, it’s a reminder that all my work, as you put it, was for nothing. There is no legacy to be carried on, only memories that fade with time. Someday, another shop will open in that space, and then there will be nothing.”
I almost opened my mouth to tell him that was on him; if he hadn’t been such a misogynistic asshole, he could’ve turned the bakery over to Lucia and it would’ve been a rousing success. She now worked for a small bakery a few towns over and they were thriving, all because of the recipes she’d learned from the jackass who couldn’t let go of his disappointment in Peter.
Rather than continue the fight, Peter stood, turning to me. “I’ve said what I came to say. Let’s go get Sophia and go home.”
Just as we’d walked into the house, we walked out hand-in-hand. A united front, rising to meet whatever challenges we faced in life.
Epilogue
Freddie
One year later
I wiped the sweat from my brow after setting down the last box. How the three of us had accumulated so much crap I’d never know, but we were finally home. I met Peter at the curb, opening the passenger’s door for Mama. She’d graciously offered to entertain Sophia while all the brothers, plus a few extra hands, loaded the truck at the townhouse and followed us to the cute split-level ranch home we’d closed on last week.
When I thought about adding Peter’s name to the mortgage on the townhouse, it never felt right. Sure, it was the first home I’d purchased, the place where I’d raised my daughter for the first six years of her life, but there were also bad memories lurking in the shadows. It took sitting down and sharing my concerns with Mama for me to see the solution.
“My boy, you need a home that’s yours. A place you pick out together because it’s where you see yourself raising your family,” she told me.
“Daddy, can I go inside and see my new bedroom?” Sophia asked as she jumped out of the backseat. I clutched my chest, taken aback by how grown up she seemed recently. It was almost the start of first grade, and she was excited to meet her new classmates. She hadn’t had a nightmare since shortly after Peter officially moved in, and it’d been months since I’d heard her come into our room in the middle of the night to make sure Peter hadn’t left.
I scooped Sophia into my arms, spinning her around fast enough Mama warned me she’d just eaten a big lunch and I’d better put her down unless I wanted a mess to clean up. “Of course you can, Soph! Remember, your stuff is set up yet because we just finished unloading the truck.”
“But you painted it purple like I asked you to, right?” She cocked a hip and rested her fists against her waist. “You promised I could have a purple room in the new house instead of the baby room I had before.”
The Peter Pan phase had officially, blessedly, ended a few months ago, when Sophia proclaimed she was far too old to be into little kid stuff anymore. I think the entire family breathed out a collective sigh of relief at that news.
“Yes, your room is the exact color you picked out,” I reassured her.
Peter gave me a gentle shove, telling me to take her inside while he helped Mama get dinner into the house. She’d insisted on cooking a big family meal since this was the one day all of us were away from the restaurant at the same time. Things had been going well with Carlos working as my assistant and Tabatha helping Tony run the front of the house.
A crash inside followed by cursing sent me running ahead of Sophia, ready to cuss out Matteo for whatever he just broke. And I knew damn well it was Teo, because it was always him. I stopped short when I noticed him on his knees, sc
ooping up pieces of a broken pie plate.
Before I could open my mouth to lecture him about being more careful, I Peter stilled me with a hand on my shoulder.
“It’s okay, Freddie,” he whispered into my ear. But it fucking wasn’t okay. That had been a peace offering of sorts from Silvio, handed over on Peter’s birthday. It had been one of his Mama’s favorites, and as Silvio sat in the living room of my old place after an awkwardly silent lunch, he began to open up about how he’d loved hearing Peter tell him stories about baking in the kitchen with Teresa.
By the time he left that night, a bit of the ice between father and son had begun to thaw. I wasn’t sure he’d ever be comfortable with Peter’s defiance of gender expectations, but the old man was trying and that was something. In fact, he and the Agnelli sisters would all be joining us a bit later for dinner.
“I’m so sorry, Peter. I didn’t mean to drop it,” Matteo sobbed. Levi dropped down in front of Teo, gripping his chin and forcing him to look up. I couldn’t hear the words he said, but as he spoke, Matteo began to unwind a bit and his tears dried up. He nodded once before standing and coming over to us.
Peter laid a hand on Matteo’s shoulder. “I’m not angry, Teo. It’s just a pie plate.”
“But it was your Mama’s, and I know it was special to you,” he said, fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt the way he did whenever he was upset. “I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve let someone else unpack that box.”
Peter’s other hand came up to Matteo’s opposite shoulder, and he shook him gently. “Listen to me. It’s okay. Life’s too short to be upset about something as silly as an old baking dish. Just because it’s broken doesn’t mean the memories are gone, and that’s the part that really matters.”
The two men hugged, and I noticed Levi step up behind Matteo. He’d become a fixture in my youngest brother’s life over the past few months and we all hoped he stuck around. No one knew how he calmed Matteo down, all we knew was that Teo seemed more focused than usual, even if there were still the occasional screw ups.
“Freddie, do you mind if I take him to the guest room for a few minutes?” Levi asked, already gripping Matteo’s hip to lead him away. “There’s a lot going on and I think he needs a few minutes to unwind.”
“You are not having sex in my house before I do,” Peter teased, causing Matteo’s entire face to burn cherry red. “Go on. We all understand that sometimes you need to decompress. I think Tony and Enzo already have the bed set up in there.”
As they walked away, Peter rested his chin on my shoulder. “I hate how wound up he gets sometimes. It’s good that he has Levi to ground him.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Sophia called out from the bottom of the stairs, telling me to hurry up. I took Peter’s hand, wanting him to be part of the big reveal.
Since he’d moved in, Peter had become the best co-parent I could ever ask for. He’d decided against rushing into another job and was using part of his inheritance from Teresa’s death to pay for college courses. Every day, he waited in front of the school to pick up Sophia, and the two of them stopped by Marino’s at least once a week for dinner. On the nights I got done early, I’d come home and the three of us would walk to the park before bed.
That’s not to say we didn’t have our fair share of growing pains, but every day I loved him a little more, and I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him.
A few hours later, I questioned whether we should’ve bought a bigger house. With all the Agnellis and their significant others, Mama, my brothers, plus Calvin, Ryan, and Levi, the house seemed filled to bursting. It was too loud and too crowded, and yet it was exactly as it should be.
I let out a shrill whistle to get everyone’s attention. In an instant, the room went silent. Sophia joined me and we walked together to stand by Peter. “I want to thank everyone for coming over today to help us celebrate the new house. If you’d told me a little over a year ago that we’d be standing here like this, two families with so much shared history under one roof, I’d have said you were insane.
“I know it hasn’t always been easy, but the one value our parents instilled in all of us is a strong sense of family.” I paused, swallowing around the lump in my throat as I remembered some of the harder times of the past year. For all my bluster about family being more than blood, I hated how much Peter hurt when Lucia seemed like she’d never forgive him. But eventually, even she’d come around and they’d begun very slowly mending fences.
I turned my attention to Peter, drowning out everything in the world but him. “Peter, you were my first best friend. You showed me what it meant to love before I understood the concept, then again when I’d given up on ever finding it for myself. We’ve built countless memories over the years and I want to create even more.”
I dropped to one knee and wrapped an arm around Sophia’s back. I was so damn proud of my girl for managing to keep this a secret. After I’d wandered past a jewelry store and spotted a band I knew Peter would love in the window, I knew I had to ask her if she was okay with me marrying Peter. She would always come first, but it’d been a calculated risk to tell her about my plans because she always forgot to keep surprises to herself when she got excited. “Peter Silvio Agnelli, will you marry us?”
The room immediately broke out in cheers and whistles. Only Peter’s teary nod as he tackled us to the floor told me he said yes. We took turns kissing one another, chastely because we weren’t alone, and then kissing our daughter. Our daughter, not mine. From this moment on, Peter would always know both of us belonged to him.
What seemed like forever later, we finally closed the door behind Tony and Enzo, who’d insisted on sticking around long enough to help us get the beds set up so we all had somewhere to sleep tonight. I slumped against the wall next to the door and let out a sigh of relief. For the past month, I’d been obsessing over everything about today: moving, whether Sophia would have issues with me uprooting her from her friends, and most importantly, proposing to Peter. But it’d all gone off without a hitch.
“You ready to go to bed?” Peter asked, curling a hand around the back of my neck. He pressed me against the wall, kissing me deeply, grinding his hips against mine. We were both already painfully hard, and I was grateful the layout of our new home put a little distance between our room and Sophia’s, because I knew how I wanted to end tonight, and I had no intention of being quiet. “I have a surprise waiting for you upstairs.”
Peter took my hand and led me through the house, turning out lights as we went. Contentment washed over me as I realized this was my life now. Peter stalled as we reached the bedroom door. I stepped up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist as I peered over his shoulder. The room was stunning.
The room had been sterile white with generic coverings on the bed when we’d first looked at the house, but now, it actually looked like our room. The walls were a warm gray with crisp white trim and furniture. I’d pressed Peter to pick something with a bit more color because he always complained about the absence of color in my old home, but now everything was put together, I understood why he’d insisted on this look. It was masculine, yet somehow romantic all at the same time.
“It looks amazing,” I whispered. I stepped forward with Peter still in my arms, forcing him into the room. “Is this the look you were going for?” He nodded, then sniffed. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“It doesn’t feel real.” He turned in my arms, sliding his hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “I know we’re really here, but tonight is this strange mix of knowing we finally made it here but worrying that this is all a dream and I’m going to wake up alone.”
“Oh honey, never again,” I promised him. I ran my thumb over his cheek, wiping away a tear I knew was out of happiness. One of the things I loved most about Peter was how he never held back whatever he felt. If he was happy, I knew it. When he was upset with me, I really knew it. “You’ll never be alone again.”
As we started to strip out of our work clothes, I took a moment to appreciate the man before me. Today, there wasn’t a stitch of satin or lace on his body but he was as beautiful as ever. One of the biggest hurdles we’d had to overcome was his fear I wouldn’t be attracted to him if he didn’t dress up for me, so on nights like tonight, I paid a little extra attention to every inch of pure masculinity, from the stubble on his cheeks to the long dick pressing against the front of his skimpy cotton briefs. He thought these underwear were boring, but he was so fucking wrong. Nothing about him was mundane.
“Love you, so much,” I told him before nipping my way along his jaw. As I kissed my way down his neck and chest, I guided him to the chest at the end of the bed, easing him down when his knees hit the edge. He reached out and flipped open the button on my jeans and shoved the denim over my hips.
I massaged the back of Peter’s head as he bent forward, mouthing my dick through my underwear. I’d never figured out why that was so fucking hot, but I loved it. It was his way of showing me how turned on he was without rushing to suck me. And he would, eventually, because Peter loved giving head more than just about anything else. He pulled down the front of my boxer briefs, jerking me as he kissed his way across my stomach and down to my hips. My back arched, pushing my cock closer to his mouth.
“Need you.” He looked up at me and smiled, curling his fingers around the elastic. When he tugged at the waistband and freed me, I stepped out of the last of my clothes before straddling one of his legs, getting close enough for him to take the head of my dick between his lips. I tangled my fingers in his hair, guiding him to where I needed him to be. We both moaned when he wrapped his lips around my crown, sucking as he dragged his tongue through my slit. He took a little more of me in, but never enough. I reached down, dragging my fingernails up his back and he let out another needy moan, the vibration of the noise sending a jolt through my entire body.
