I dropped onto the bed beside him and ran a hand over his bare torso, then down under the edge of the duvet until he grabbed my wrist. “Spoilsport. So you’re moving in?”
“On one more condition.”
I nodded, grinning. “Name it!” Right then I would have given him anything, but I saw his expression grow serious as he drew a breath. Whatever he was about to ask for, it wasn’t easy to say, and I braced myself for something like separate rooms or no hogging the TV remote.
“I want to get in touch with Angelica. I want to tell her what’s going on. If you’re in agreement, I’d like to invite her to meet you.” He looked into my eyes and I nodded.
“Is that it? I have no problem with that.”
“I still want her to be a part of my life. Our marriage is over, but I’ll never stop loving her. We were best friends for so long...”
Ah, so that was why he was so reluctant to say. He thought I might be jealous of sharing him with someone else. I snuggled into his side, listening to his heartbeat as I smiled. He was thinking of my feelings, as always, and it made me feel so safe with him.
“You’re a wonderful man, Nick Dante. You know that? And if you love Angelica, I want her in our life. I can’t imagine anyone you love could be anything short of perfect.”
“Well,” he chuckled and pulled me in close. “She did embezzle funds from her father’s firm.”
I laughed. “Well, apart from that. Invite her to our house. I’ll cook.”
There was a moment of hesitation, then he said, “I... think it’s probably better if I do the cooking.”
“Deal.” I nodded against him, snuggling into his warmth, and fell asleep in his arms.
Epilogue 2: Seven Years Later
“Awww!” Angelica and I said in unison as Cleo jumped three times her own height for the string. Once she had the end of it, she tugged it out of my hand and ran off to the other side of the room, leaving us both in stitches.
“Clever girl, Cleo,” I said, still laughing. “Such a clever girl.”
“She’s adorable,” Angie said, leaning forward to rub the top of the kitten’s head. “How old is she?”
“She’s ten weeks today. Dante hates her.”
“I don’t hate her! I just think she looks like a gremlin, which she does.”
“Oh my God.” Angie looked genuinely shocked as she grabbed Cleo and snuggled her into her arms. “Don’t listen to the nasty man, I think you’re beautiful.”
Dante huffed from the kitchen. “When is Michael getting here? This is almost done. I hate shoving food in people’s faces as soon as I meet them, but I don’t want all this to go cold either.”
“He must be running late. I’ll try calling him.” Angie handed Cleo over to me and I took her gratefully as she left the room, pulling her phone out of her back pocket.
It had only been a day since I picked up the kitten from the shelter. She had been entirely my choice; Dante had been fine with the idea of getting a pet, but was just too busy with his charity to come along with me to meet her. The first time he saw her was when he got home from the office that evening, expecting to see a little bundle of fur, and finding me playing with a little bundle of skin instead.
Sphinx cats certainly aren’t to everyone’s taste, and perhaps I should have told him what to expect sooner, but Cleo had just won my heart as soon as I saw her and there was no way I could leave her there in the shelter any longer.
She’d had a bad start in life, but between us I knew we could make the rest of it happy and healthy.
“Michael’s here,” Angie announced as she popped her head back into the room. “I’ll go meet him.”
The way she nearly skipped out of the room made me smile. She might have been a woman in her late forties, but the way she had been acting since she met Michael was more like a seventeen-year-old with her first proper boyfriend. I was glad of that. Over the years, I’d got to know Angie and I wanted her to be happy. I’d been right when I predicted that anyone Dante loved, I would love too.
A few minutes later, in she came with a man who I guessed had to be Michael following her. He was handsome, dark skinned and broad, with an easy smile that made me feel instantly at ease. I clung to Cleo as I crossed the room just a step behind Dante, and Angie grinned.
“Guys, this is Michael. Michael, I want you to meet my ex, Nick, and his husband, Juke.”
Michael shook Dante’s hand, nodding enthusiastically. “The soup kitchen guy, right? I couldn’t believe it when Ange told me she used to be married to you. Loved that TV show you did, I’m not ashamed to admit that it made me cry. Some of those stories, man...” He shook his head, growing serious, and Dante sighed.
“There were some sad stories, for sure. Your business is doing well, right? Maybe I could hit you up for a donation some time?”
Michael nodded. “Sure, I’d be happy to contribute. Or even help out, if that’s doable?”
“That would be great!”
I held out my hand as Michael turned my way, and he shook it. “What do you do, Juke?”
That made me laugh inwardly. In the intervening years, I’d stopped swimming professionally and Dante had stopped coaching. It might have only been a few years since I quit, but swimming never did bring much fame and now nobody knew who I was – and I definitely preferred it that way. I smiled, hugging my kitten, and said, “I’m a man of leisure. Dante looks after me.”
Angelica scoffed and slapped my shoulder, twisting her lips to the side. “You’re such a liar, Juke Henderson!” She turned to Michael, rolling her eyes. “Juke used to be a professional swimmer. He’s coaching one of this country’s current rising stars. Jimmy...” She turned my way.
“Landry,” I said, and she nodded, grinning.
“And he’s just had a book of poetry published.”
I tilted my head side to side. “Well, maybe.”
Michael laughed, shaking his head. “That’s fucking amazing. It’s like meeting royalty. Except royalty doesn’t do home cooked meals. Sorry if you’ve been waiting on me to start, some joker next door wouldn’t move his car. What is that smell?”
“That is chilli con carne, spiced rice, home made pitta breads and—”
“Let’s just go and eat, shall we?” I suggested, and Dante narrowed his eyes as he turned to me. Before he could say anything, I planted a kiss on his lips, making him laugh. “I love you, Nick Dante,” I said.
And I guess I always will.
Also By Dean Cornwall
Flip Turn
Albuquerque, Colorado
About Dean Cornwall
Dean Cornwall is a quiet, shy, slightly nerdy writer from England. He loves books and films and cats (he loves all animals, but cats are his favourites – he has four).
He’s drawn to the M/M genre because, while each one can be relied upon to follow certain conventions, the variety of stories on offer is immense. That promise of experiencing something new each time he picks up a book is his favourite feeling, and hopefully it’s yours too!
Keep In Touch
Head over to my website at www.deancornwall.com, follow me on Facebook or Twitter, or sign up to my newsletter to keep up with new releases, giveaways and free content!
Flip Turn Page 9
