Gathered Up

by Annabeth Albert

  A potent murmur swept through the room as news of Ev’s pronouncement spread, and then there was a ripple of applause that culminated in backslapping by the other business owners. Randy and the rest welcomed Ev to their ranks, and the knitters celebrated even as they mourned.

  “Now eat,” I said as the clamor died down.

  “You are going to be the most insufferable of boyfriends, aren’t you?” He smiled at me, a weak one, but genuine affection was still there, too.

  I waited until Violet and the triplets were back to talking stitch patterns before I answered, lowering my voice. “Depends. Exactly what type did you have in mind? The friend-who-is-indeed-male?”

  “That is true.” His voice was a whisper, but his eyes sparkled for the first time all day. “But I also want the exclusive kind. The you-and-me-forever kind. The you-are-sleeping-with-me-tonight kind.”

  “I can’t.” Regret laced my words. Forever was going to be tempered by the weight of my responsibilities, and that was the truth. “I’ve got the kids. Renee’s at her geology field trip still. She sends her love.”

  To her credit, she’d sent a half-dozen texts throughout the day. I knew she was taking it hard, and when she got back, we’d have a long talk, work out a new arrangement, one that let us both have lives. And maybe, eventually, down the road, I’d lean on Ev, not her. Because that was okay and right.

  “They have sleeping bags, yes? I saw them getting dropped off from their sleepovers.” As usual, Ev had the solution. “They can have a slumber party in the living room. Fill that space with a few movies and popcorn. We’ll move the chair so they have room to spread out.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Because it is.” He gave me an indulgent smile.

  “The kids and I…we’re a package deal, you know? This isn’t a temporary thing—I’m going to be their guardian forever, and whomever I’m with has to understand—”

  “I do.” He silenced me with a brief, soft kiss. “I am not talking about rearranging for a night. They are a part of your life, and I want them—and you—in mine.”

  “Okay,” I said, a bit shaky.

  Another step forward, another step, not away from Mira but toward a life where we could grieve and love together.

  Ev’s smile turned to something hotter, something almost feral, and I shivered a bit. Yeah, I could compromise and go along with the sleepover plan if it meant more smiles like that.

  Chapter 15

  Dear friends, I am absolutely awestruck at the outpouring of love and comments. Yesterday was the darkest day of my life, but today there are small rays of sunshine—one for each of you and all our local friends—breaking through the gray skies. A little while ago my friend, the barista, and I moved Hala’s chair from the living room. We made room for giggles and stories and popcorn fights. And that was right and good. Her house will not stay quiet long, I think, and that is exactly what she would have wanted. This place will ring with laughter and footsteps, and her dearest wish that it be filled with the sort of love she shared with Hala Tanya will also come true. I think. I hope. I pray. I see this shimmering image that I hope is the future and not a mirage. To that end, for the first time in almost a week, I picked up needles. My barista needs another pair of socks.—Evren’s Yarnings

  When I packed up the kids for the impromptu sleepover, I grabbed two items from the secret box I kept far underneath my bed. Hopeful planning, you could say. Truth was, sex was the one area I was still a bit uncertain about. Not only had we had precious little of it, but I wasn’t sure Ev completely trusted he was everything I’d ever need. And while I was being honest, maybe I had a few doubts, too. We’d had quickies and we’d had grief-filled comfort sex, but it still felt like maybe we hadn’t made love yet.

  Something I fully intended to rectify. I made sure all the kids were sound asleep after the movie and story, then said a prayer of gratitude that Ev’s room was the farthest one from the living room, down the long, narrow hallway that also housed Mira’s room, the bathroom, and a small office. And his door locked. I pushed aside any twinges of guilt over uprooting the kids for this evening. This was a grand adventure for them, and I was slowly figuring out that sometimes it was okay to put my own needs or Ev’s first. When I opened the door, Ev sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop in front of him, knitting needles in his hands.

  “Oh, hello.” He looked up, giving me a wide smile. “I was just finishing my blog for the day.”

  “You ever going to let me see this mystery knitting blog of yours?” I scooted in behind him, draping myself over his back. I’d jokingly threatened to Google it a few times, but in the end I hadn’t, wanting him to have his privacy until he was ready to share.

  “Of course.” Ev hit a key and Evren’s Yarnings flashed on the screen. The blog was every bit as elegant as one might expect from Ev—classy fonts, simple layout, and the most gorgeous, artful photographs of knitted items. But it was his prose that struck me the deepest.

  “I’m getting socks?” I asked, kissing his neck.

  Ev held up the ball of multicolored yarn. “Yes. It has not escaped my notice how often you wear the others. These will be colorful stripes. We both need a little color.”

  “Yes.” I kissed the spot right below his ear. In truth, he could knit me something in puke green and I’d still wear it proudly. Whatever made him happy to knit, I was completely in favor of.

  Ev made his ruffled chicken noise as I paid more attention to his ear. “Let me save the laptop, yes?”

  “Good idea. We don’t want anyone getting impaled by needles either.” I gestured at his knitting.

  He set his stuff aside, then gave me a long, considering look. “Now what shall I do with you?”

  “If we’re taking votes, I’d like to grind with you for a long, long time until my lips are raw from kissing and my dick’s about to explode.”

  “Do I get to hold you down?” The sparkles in Ev’s dark eyes told me this wasn’t really a negotiation.

  “Of course. We’ve got hours.” Luxurious, beautiful hours. “You can tie me up like you keep threatening.”

  “Perhaps. But first, strip for me.”

  “What’s this? I get to be naked?” I laughed as I bounded off the bed, only too happy to give him a bit of a show.

  “I find I did not get to see my fill last night. Also it amuses me.”

  “Well, then.” I unbuttoned my shirt slowly, teasing him with glimpses of my T-shirt rather than my chest, then removed the T-shirt with equal deliberation. I paused as I got to my pants, loving the look of rapt attention on his face. My hand brushed the items in my deep pocket. There wasn’t going to be a better time than now to bring it up.

  “How much show would you like?” I asked, fingering the pocket’s edge.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Taking a deep breath, I withdrew the lube and slim plug I’d stashed there. “Would you like to watch me finger myself and put this in before we grind?”

  In typical Ev fashion, he didn’t answer right away, thinking. Eyes narrowing.

  “We don’t have to fuck. Ever. But sometimes I do like a little penetration. And I thought this might be a sexy compromise.”

  “I am not entirely opposed to fucking you.” A small smile tugged at the corners of Ev’s mouth.

  “But you don’t have to.” I reached out for his hand. “I meant what I said yesterday, Ev. I love you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything. And I know you don’t trust bisexuals—”

  “Pssh.” Ev gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “My past is done now. I trust you. Completely. That’s all that really matters.”

  “Yes,” I said. His words warmed me more than the early summer air on my skin. “You’re it for me, Ev. You really are.”

  “I believe you.” Ev licked at his lower lip. “Now, about your request. . . Is it
wrong that you fingering yourself for my eyes only turns me on far more than the idea of me fingering you?”

  “Nothing is wrong between us.” I leaned down and kissed him.

  He carefully folded the covers back on the bed, then patted a spot at the bottom. “Come, then; show me.”

  He made quick, efficient work of his own clothes before climbing back into the bed, legs folded under him.

  I gave a little shimmy as I shed my pants, then sat back against the footboard, legs spread. I knew better than to bring up past partners with Ev, but this wasn’t the first time I’d played like this in front of a partner. I had an ex-girlfriend who had loved ordering me to do her bidding while she watched, and I’d discovered I had a real kink for being watched by commanding eyes.

  Flicking my nipple rings, I gasped, letting Ev see how much I liked this.

  “Those are mine,” Ev said in his most imperial tone. “You focus on your…task.”

  Fuck. A little moan escaped my mouth. He knew exactly how to turn my crank.

  I dipped my hand lower, trailing over my stomach. I fisted my cock but barely got a stroke out before Ev made a tsk noise. “None of that either. I will handle that. Your hands have better things to do, yes?”

  “Killing me, Ev.” I groaned.

  “Slowly,” he agreed with a sly smile. “That is the point. Now show me your ass.”

  Oh, a dirty-talking Ev never failed to make my cock throb and leak pre-cum even without a hand on it. I squeezed out a bit of lube, then swirled my fingers around my rim, lightly but still enough to make me hiss.

  “Feels good?” Ev asked. “Tell me.”

  “So good.” I gasped as I worked a finger in. The muscle was almost painfully tight—other than quick play in the shower, I almost never had the chance to indulge in this.

  “Deeper,” Ev commanded, his eyes never leaving mine. Fuck; that was sexy—he was reading my pleasure in my face, not my hands.

  A guttural sound rumbled from my chest as I grazed my gland.

  “That’s it. Two now.”

  Either Ev had done this play before or he was a studious watcher of porn, but my dick didn’t really care how he got these mad skills, only that he kept talking. I drew my knees up to get better access and worked a second finger in, hissing a bit at the burn.

  “So beautiful, tatlim. So perfect. A little harder now, just for me.”

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” My eyes squished shut and I had to work not to come just from his words.

  “Now your toy. Put it nice and deep.” Ev’s hot gaze almost singed my beard hair.

  The plug was my favorite one—slim, with the perfect curve to rest right against my gland and a wide, flared base that put delicious pressure on my rim. I worked it in slowly, giving Ev as much show as I could, moaning softly as it found its mark.

  His lips found my neck as my head fell back, and he pushed me back down on the mattress, maneuvering me until his long body covered mine.

  “Hands up,” he murmured, stroking my arms until I complied, wedging them under a slat in the footboard. “Perfect.”

  And it was. He kissed me, using his tongue to attack mine hungrily, his cock rubbing against my own leaking dick. His thrusts were far more aggressive than before, hips snapping into mine and making me gasp. Our motions made the plug wiggle inside me, and pleasure, thick and heady, coursed through my body.

  “Gonna come,” I whispered. It was simply too good—the plug, his mouth, his body on mine, the dirty whispers of encouragement spilling from his mouth.

  “Not yet,” he commanded. He dipped his head to nip at my piercings, growling slightly.

  “Not helping.” I gasped.

  “Mine,” he said as he captured my mouth again.

  “Yours,” I agreed. I hooked my legs around his waist, both to hold him impossibly close and because the angle put terrific pressure on the plug.

  Ev shifted, and then the most amazing thing happened—he tapped the base of the plug. Not fucking me with it, only tapping lightly as he continued to rock. “This is what you like?” he whispered against my ear.

  “This is perfect,” I gasped, and it was.

  “I think…someday I may let you prep yourself like this…then I will pull it out…and fuck you.” Ev punctuated his words with taps on the plug, and when he got to fuck, my whole body started shaking. I tensed my thigh muscles, body bowing as the orgasm hit me like a rush-hour MAX train—swift, urgent, and loud.

  Ev swallowed my moans with a kiss. A few more hard thrusts against my belly and he, too, was coming, alternating American curses and Turkish endearments. He kissed me for a long time as we both drifted back down, and the freedom not to rush was almost sweeter than the sex.

  “Will you shower with me before we sleep?” Ev asked with a kiss to my temple.

  “Of course.” I turned, met his mouth, tried to tell him with my kiss that it didn’t matter what little quirks he had—his thing about sticky fingers or cleanliness or whether or not we ever actually had anal sex—none of that mattered as long as I had him.

  In the shower, we made out as the water coursed over us, and I decided that I didn’t love Ev despite quirks; I loved him because of them. Because of all the unique textures and patterns that made up my Evren.

  “I want a life with you,” I whispered against his chest. “I don’t care how hard it is to make that happen. It’s what I want.”

  “We will make it happen, aşkim. You will see. Have faith.”

  Faith. It was such a funny, strange thing. For so long, I’d had none, and he’d almost had too much, but now we’d both found the one thing worth going all in on: us. What started as a small thread, the skinny yarn Ev used for socks, was now a hefty ball of hopes and dreams and a future we were going to make happen.

  Chapter 16

  All right, friends, I have heard the questions for a year now: when does my barista get a sweater? After all, I have kept the man so well shod with socks that my new book of sock patterns, out next month, is dedicated to him. When does he get a sweater? I have no idea why this has become an obsession among you all and my Knit Night group, but the answer, my friends, is today. Today he gets a sweater. Or, more precisely, today he gets a Fair Isle wedding vest with custom wooden buttons. As he would say, I went all in on this particular project, and the pattern is my gift to you on this most joyous of days. Today, I am not only gaining a husband but a family, the biggest of life’s blessings—one that I did not anticipate ever receiving, but one I am grateful for every day. —Evren’s Yarnings

  “The book is dedicated to me?” I asked as I leaned over Ev’s shoulder. He was typing at the dining room table.

  “But of course.” He stretched back to kiss me. “The shawl book coming out next year, that one is for Mira, but this one…it’s you.”

  “Thank you.” The kiss turned deeper until I was forced to remember where we had to be in half an hour.

  I broke away and did a spin for him. “So, am I modeling it sufficiently well? Did you get enough pictures for the blog last night?” My suit was a great vintage find from a place off Hawthorne, the tie a gift from Renee, but the vest was the real star. It had a ridiculous number of shades in it and a complex pattern, showcasing Ev’s signature masculine style with little hints of unexpected hues here and there in the mosaic patterns, too.

  “Yes, but I am still not used to the new look.” He gestured at my clean-shaven face. I knew the beard would be back in a matter of weeks, but I’d wanted something different for the wedding. Fresh start and all that.

  “Almost forgot. I have something for you, too.” I fumbled in my pocket, withdrew a lumpy square. You’d never know this was actually lumpy square try number four. I would have gone for a fifth try, but we ran out of that ball of yarn, and Jonas sagely noted I wasn’t exactly improving. “It’s a pocket square. I think.”

  “It
is lovely.” Ev held it up like he held up the knitting efforts of the kids. “Jonas taught you?”

  “That obvious?” I rubbed my chin. “And in his defense, I think I’m a really poor learner.”

  “No, you’re an incredibly sweet—”

  “Ev! Madison touched my hair!” Morgan came shrieking into the room, followed quickly by a protesting Madison. Both girls had complicated braids that looped around their heads with flowers woven in. Three guesses which adult in the house was responsible for that bit of whimsy.

  “Indoor voice, aşkim. Indoor voice. And I will fix it.” Ev did some bit of magic that tucked the errant strand back into place. “Is your room picked up? We will leave for the courthouse in a moment.”

  “We’ll go check!”

  No need to guess who had the girls and Jonas on a new cleaning kick. Complete with color-coded chore charts that looked suspiciously like knitting patterns. A few weeks earlier, we’d painted Mira’s old room a shade of dusky rose that reminded all of us of Mira, then moved in the twins’ bunk bed. Jonas had the small room that had once been an office. It was tiny, but he was thrilled at the privacy.

  “Jonas? Are you ready?” I yelled down the hall.

  “Let me lock Fluffy’s cage and I’ll be right there.” Fluffy was the male guinea pig Jonas had received for his birthday last month. The creature was already awash in knitted blankets and balls.

  I checked my phone before turning back to Ev. “Renee and Indigo are on their way, too.”

  Renee didn’t have a room in the apartment. She had, much to her delight and my eternal worry, gotten a new grant for housing and moved into the group house with her friends. But as Ev said, it was time to let her be nineteen. And it turned out that doing that actually brought us closer together, smoothed over a lot of the tension of the previous year. We were meeting her and Indigo at the courthouse. He, too, had become a fixture in our lives, and I credited his placid nature with balancing out some of Renee’s more…dramatic tendencies.