“Morning.” Evan yawned. Matt could hear sounds of Evan’s daily routine in the background. Fix the bed, into the bathroom to shave and brush his teeth. “No baby yet?”
“Nope. Stubborn little thing.”
“It’s a first baby—sometimes they take longer,” Evan said as water started running. “Miranda was almost twenty-two hours from first pains to first screams.”
“Stubborn,” Matt said dryly. “See?”
“Hmmm,” Evan said, laughing a little. “She’s getting better.”
“She takes after you—I don’t hold out hope for an easygoing personality to suddenly appear.”
Evan just made a noise of derision. Or agreement. Matt could hear him brushing his teeth. It was nice, though, after all this time and the struggle and the strain, to joke about things that used to threaten to break them apart.
Sometimes they even brought up Sherri and nothing terrible happened.
Evan spit out the toothpaste and rejoined the conversation. “They say you forget the pain of childbirth, which is what enables you to have more,” he said. Matt heard the cabinet open.
“I would assume so—after twenty-two hours? If it were me, Miranda would be an only child.”
“Same,” Evan laughed. “Which reminds me….”
“Uh-oh.”
“No, nothing bad. Miranda and Kent are apparently going to Florida in March for his birthday.”
“Disney World? He’s so going to propose,” Matt deadpanned, mostly just to rile Evan up.
“Shut up.”
“Father of the bride—this is going to be lovely. I’m sure Miranda won’t be a bridezilla at all,” Matt continued drolly.
They’d been relieved after the Thanksgiving debacle when Miranda assured them she and Kent weren’t ready for marriage, but all the work Miranda was doing to repair things with her family just seemed to settle the couple into something more mature and therefore escalating since then.
Matt and his favorite cohort, Katie, mined the fertile ground for teasing Evan at every possible turn.
“If she loves me, she’ll elope,” Evan muttered, which sent Matt into a full snicker.
They chatted for another few minutes, household details that Matt usually took care of as Evan worked long hours at the precinct. The four-child household was down to two, with the twins involved in numerous after-school activities that required shuttling around.
“Mrs. Reyes is taking Elizabeth to dance, and then Ollie’s dad is giving Danny a ride home from the batting cages.”
“I might be home by then, depending on when Miss Ames decides to make her entrance.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
“Since last night? No. But I have drunk enough cafeteria coffee to make my bloodstream run black.”
“So come home when you can and just go to bed. We can handle things. Car pools and dinner. Hell, I’ll even make sure you have clean clothes tomorrow.”
“I have a competence kink and you’re talking dirty,” Matt growled.
Evan laughed again. “Send me a text when the baby gets here.”
“Send me a picture of you in an apron. We’re missing Valentine’s Day—it’s the least you can do.”
MATT ARRIVED back at the waiting room just in time to find a disheveled Bennett hugging the hell out of Griffin.
“She’s here, she’s here,” he kept saying, sounding exhausted but jubilant. When Bennett stepped back from Griffin, who was blinking and smiling like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, he spotted Matt, and his grin got bigger.
“She’s here.”
IT WAS a full forty-five minutes before they could see Daisy or the baby. She’d had a rough time of it—there was mention of “stitching her up,” and Matt tuned out briefly. Private matter about his boss lady’s private parts—no, thanks.
When he did get into her room, Matt found a pale but smiling Daisy sitting up in bed, her red hair pulled back and her beautiful face makeup free. A pink robe covered most of her small frame, the rest tucked under a white blanket. There wasn’t anything glamorous about Daisy at this moment, but Matt figured she never looked more stunning.
“Did you see her?” she whispered as Griffin hustled around Matt to get to his best friend’s side. “She’s fine—they said she’s fine, totally fine.”
Griffin shook his head as he put his arms around Daisy. “Soon. I just wanted to see you first.”
Tears spilled down Daisy’s cheeks as she curled up in Griffin’s arms; they’d been through a lot together, and Matt knew from Jim just how much their estrangement had hurt Griffin. Now? They held each other, crying and whispering, and Matt had to clear his throat.
He was so blaming lack of sleep for the emotional twist in his chest.
“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Daisy repeated.
Bennett touched Matt’s arm, gesturing outside. “We’ll be right back, darling,” he called.
Daisy nodded, her face tucked into Griffin’s neck.
They stepped outside, letting the door close behind them.
“Everything’s okay, right?” Matt asked quietly. He didn’t remember either of the Ames being concerned about the baby’s well-being, but something had to be up, given Daisy’s reaction.
“She’s just tired,” Bennett said, the lighting making him look older and completely exhausted. His eyes, though? Bright and shining. “And I think she was worried—well, she used to drink pretty regularly, and….” Bennett trailed off, his handsome face going hard, as if anticipating something negative from Matt. “And take some… medications too often.”
Ah, Matt thought. He shrugged in response. “That was a while ago, right? So there wasn’t a high risk for anything to affect the baby. I’m not surprised she was worried, though—Daisy’s gonna be a great mom.”
The smile that bloomed over Bennett’s face told him he’d said the right thing.
MATT TEXTED the news to Evan as they waited a few minutes to give Griffin and Daisy time together. Bennett scrolled through his phone, huffing at all the messages.
“You want me to have Amy come down? Help you out?” Matt asked, his finger already on the icon for Bennett’s assistant, who was one part saint and one part ruthless rainmaker.
Bennett sighed. “Yes, please. I should call a few people, though. My mother and brother are on their way right now.”
Evan’s response popped up on Matt’s phone.
Tell everyone congratulations. Will tell Helena.
“Evan says congrats and he’s going to let Helena know.”
“She probably already knows. Shane’s on his way.”
With Bennett’s best friend married to Evan’s former partner in Vice, they formed an incestuous little circle of relationships that actually helped cut down on how many Christmas cards they needed to send out.
Down the hall came the rattle of a bassinet. A smiling nurse in hot pink scrubs was pushing the newest member of that circle toward the doorway.
“Well hello, Daddy—how about we bring the little girl in to see her mommy?”
A second later they entered the room, with Matt forced to clear his throat at least ten more times as Bennett and Daisy introduced Sadie Catherine to her godfather. The radiant light of that much happiness in one little place did something to Matt’s heart.
He surreptitiously took a picture and texted it to Evan with a simple description.
Families are a beautiful thing.
Chapter 4
“WHAT DO you wear to a christening weekend in the Hamptons?” Matt bitched from the inner depths of his closet. “What the fuck is beach casual? Because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean a T-shirt and shorts.”
“Sure it does,” Evan called from the bed, where he was refolding his polo shirt. “It just doesn’t mean the free T-shirt from the middle school car wash and your gym shorts.”
“Fuck.”
Evan stifled a laugh. At some point Matt would realize that there wasn’t a magical elf in the closet crafting things he would need fo
r their upcoming trip, and he would come out.
Out of the closet.
So they could go shopping.
He almost wanted to text Helena to share his amusement. But then he imagined Helena was going through the same trauma about packing that Matt was. He’d never seen Helena in clothing that could be described as beach casual—her idea of attire to relax in was very similar to Matt’s. Her wardrobe seemed to consist of sensible work clothes and sexy evening wear—the blending of a Vice cop and a Broadway playwright’s life.
And here sat Evan—intense, OCD, exacting Evan—fully packed and totally Zen.
Ha. On both of them.
“We have to go to the store,” Matt said.
Evan looked up to find his boyfriend standing desolately at the end of the bed. “I know,” Evan responded as sympathetically as he could manage.
“To the mall.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I need things. Clothes. Labor Day weekend at the mall.”
Matt was skirting toward melodramatic in a hurry. It said something that he could handle the stomach flu sweeping through the house but buying clothes gave him hives.
“You do. And we should probably just pack the car and get going, stop on the way,” Evan said patiently. He’d done this on more than one occasion with the girls and Sherri before a trip, but he did not mention this to Matt.
Even if his cheek twitched with a contained laugh.
“Ugh,” Matt moaned before turning to his dresser. Underwear. Socks he held up in one hand, as if stricken with indecision.
“Do I need socks?”
“No. Unless you think you’re going to run in the mornings. Then you do.”
Athletic socks were thrown on the bed.
In the end Matt’s leather duffel contained his one pair of nice athletic shorts and a black T-shirt that had no rips or stains, running shoes, underwear, and a toiletry kit. The rest stayed empty in anticipation of polos and khakis and….
“I’m not wearing sandals!”
Footwear that wasn’t sandals.
Evan followed Matt’s stomping downstairs, anticipating a fascinating weekend in the Hamptons.
SADIE CATHERINE Ames couldn’t have just any baptismal celebration. With a February birthday followed by several weeks of shitty weather, Bennett and Daisy decided to wait until August turned to September and Labor Day weekend to invite their nearest and dearest to the Hamptons house for a celebration.
Three days at an estate right on the water, with a stunning view, gorgeous interiors, and a security system that rivaled Fort Knox, courtesy of Matt Haight Security.
He had business cards now.
His clients were essentially Bennett and a few of his überwealthy friends. It had gotten so actually like a real business that they had turned the extra room on the first floor of the house into an office, with a desk and computer and files.
Matt had files.
With Katie up at Boston College, Miranda newly graduated and on her own, and the twins at a capable stage in their life, Matt didn’t mind the extra work. He brought in great money, he could work at home except on consult or installation days, and it was interesting. He had purpose.
It felt good.
He felt settled.
Sure, he could get caught up in things and forget to make dinner, but who didn’t like Chinese food twice in one week? Evan chipped in when he could; Danny and Elizabeth did their chores.
It was good.
They were settled.
Of course, a side effect of this growing business was Matt suddenly having a schedule that didn’t revolve around car pools and dry cleaning pickup. Which meant quality time with Evan had to be penciled in, instead of Matt just waiting until Evan was home.
Now, sometimes, Evan waited for him.
Which was why they were heading to the Hamptons sans children. After a summer of Matt having his favorite kid around (not that he told anyone that), Katie was back at the dorms, and the twins were spending their last weekend of freedom upstate with their aunt Elena and her fiancé, Walt, at his family’s cabin.
Everyone Matt knew was getting married or having kids, and he was on his way to the mall to buy expensive clothes to stand around a grill in.
Life.
Evan drove the SUV through their suburb, farther away from nicely manicured lawns and kids riding their bikes to the more urban sections of Brooklyn. Matt hadn’t imagined this being where he felt most comfortable, where sidewalks were rolled up by nine most nights and the sound of crickets replaced the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. He felt content, leaning his head back against the seat rest, watching the last bits of summer being wrung out of the day.
He and Evan held hands over the console.
Life was good.
THE MALL trip utilized Evan’s expertise as a father who occasionally had to clothe his children. Just a few weeks earlier, he’d taken a full Saturday to usher Elizabeth and Danny through the same familiar shopping venue, with a credit card and incredible patience. The last year of middle school required a more specific wardrobe, and times were apparently changing, because he didn’t recall this with Miranda and Katie a few years ago. Social suicide by wearing the wrong shoes seemed to loom earlier and earlier over kids’ lives.
Matt drew the short straw for that weekend: driving Katie back to school in Boston, battling traffic and dorm move-in. Not to mention putting together some new furniture for her room. In Matt’s mind, he had gotten the better end of the deal.
At least Evan’s experience made Matt’s petulance dealable; they hit Macy’s and Nordstrom’s for everything, right down to boat shoes, the shopping for which almost sent his boyfriend over the final edge.
“No.”
“It’s this or sandals.”
“Oh God.”
Matt now owned boat shoes.
Bags in hand, they stopped for coffee and cinnamon rolls in the food court, which fortunately improved Matt’s mood. As they sat side by side in the crowded space, bags between their knees, Evan exhaled loudly.
“What?” Matt asked, midmovement to bring the coffee to his mouth.
“Nothing, just had this strange feeling overcome me.”
“Which was?”
Evan laughed, licking some sticky sugar off his thumb. “I’m relaxed. In a mall, on our way to battle traffic on a holiday weekend. And I’m calm.”
“Don’t worry. When we get to the beach and sit on lounge chairs, you’ll suddenly remember you forgot the monthly steaming of the seats of the SUV and freak out,” Matt said dryly.
Evan knocked their shoulders together and went back to his sticky confection. “I’ll probably think about the promotion and have a nervous breakdown—which will be your fault for jinxing my relaxed state.”
“Yeah, ’cause it wasn’t going to happen otherwise.” Matt wiped his mouth with a wrinkled brown napkin. “A few more months and then everything changes. I’ve already ordered a tranquilizer gun.”
Evan didn’t handle change well. Everyone knew that.
In the past few years, he’d lost his wife, fallen in love with a man, taken over raising four children, done his job, and been offered a captaincy. He still had his stomach lining—most of it, anyway—and at this moment, he was sitting on a hard plastic bench next to a man he loved, clearly a couple, clearly together, and all his concerns in the world fell down to “don’t get icing on your khakis.”
For a rigid SOB, Evan Cerelli was doing okay.
Chapter 5
THE RENTAL car was making a clicking noise Jim feared was a transmission issue. Every mile farther away from Albany and toward the Hamptons added another layer of worry and irritation to his shoulders. The way things were going, they were going to be higher than his head by the time they arrived.
Oh look, the check-engine light. Jim knew his clicking noises, thank you very much.
Last year at this time, they were in Hawaii, being beach bums and living a life of hedonistic bliss. Now? They were rootless in a
way that Jim didn’t always feel comfortable with. Like driving a shitty rental car for seven and a half hours instead of his truck. Trading one packed suitcase for a smaller one, working out of the guest room of Griffin’s childhood home.
They’d returned in early January when Richard suffered a mild heart attack and just never left. Part of it was because Griffin was so fragile after his father’s health scare and staying in the house to assist with his recovery made the most sense. Griffin could work anywhere there was Wi-Fi, and Jim—well, he just needed to be where his boyfriend was. Then it was close to Daisy’s due date, so why bother to fly back to Washington when they’d just be coming back?
So they stayed.
Jim bought a few hundred dollars’ worth of equipment and spent time with Griffin’s dad upstate, learning the joys of fly-fishing. Richard’s personality and Jim’s meshed nicely, and he tried not to think about the fact that sometimes he had more in common with Griffin’s father than with him.
Sharing space with Richard wasn’t a problem. They had their own space, and Richard was an easygoing guy who was very low maintenance, even recovering from a heart attack. Griffin’s frequent train rides down to the city to see Daisy or have meetings about his movie left Jim with plenty of leisure time. He called and talked to his old partner, Terry, back in Seattle and commented with the proper level of enthusiasm on the endless stream of texts and pictures he received about their friends’ children and pregnancies and house-buying decisions. He read a lot of books. He worked out in the makeshift gym in the basement.
It was nice.
For about two weeks.
Then Jim started to think about being three thousand miles from the place he’d called home for over twenty years. He thought about being officially retired. He read the legal papers and updates regularly sent to him about the upcoming civil case being brought against him, and the department, by douche bag criminal Tripp Ingersoll. So many delays and motions, mostly by Tripp’s lawyer, as the asshole tried to keep his name in the headlines as much as possible, led to postponement after postponement.
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