At that second, only a hug from Daisy could pull him away from Jim.
Repairing their wounded relationship after the debacle with her ex-husband and the Ed Kelly script turned out to be both complicated and vital to both their happiness. In many ways, they were no longer Griffin-and-Daisy as they’d been for so many years—a duo locked in a platonic marriage of mutual dependency. No, they’d both grown up, found other passions and other directions, found truth and love. And for all the joy Griffin felt now, being with Jim and the direction of his career, it didn’t feel right without his best friend.
They hugged, Daisy’s arms tight around his neck as they exchanged a flurry of kisses.
“Hi, Jim!” Daisy called, leaning around Griffin’s torso to smile in his direction. “Thanks for coming!”
Jim and Daisy’s relationship—if it could even be called that—was another matter entirely. Daisy remained wary around Jim (despite the fact that he’d once saved her life), very aware of how her past behavior angered him. And she wasn’t wrong. Jim held a grudge because she’d hurt Griffin, which on the one hand made Griffin’s heart sing.
No, on both hands it made his heart sing. Jim couldn’t forgive people who hurt Griffin, even if Griffin had.
But now that they’d fully reconciled, Jim had agreed to be civil, especially when Bennett and Daisy made Griffin Sadie’s godfather. They were family, maybe even more than Griffin’s dad and sisters and their extended families. And Jim was part of their circle whether he liked it or not.
“A weekend at the beach—always up for that.” Jim looked up at the house, then back to Daisy. “So this is like you guys slumming, right?”
Daisy tittered, a little overenthusiastic at Jim’s lame joke. “Yes. Welcome to our little beach shack!”
Daisy led them into the house, her arm around Griffin’s waist, Jim following with the bags. They each made the appropriate noises about how beautiful the place was thanks to Daisy’s fantastic decorating job. Griffin admired the art and the fireplace. Jim seemed more inclined to appreciate the expansive kitchen and fully stocked bar. Daisy promised the grand tour later but first wanted to get them settled into their rooms.
Their guest suite was shades of cream and brown, with a soft tan rug and enormous king-size bed. Griffin made happy noises over the two-person tub—Daisy knew him too well.
“Bennett and everyone else are on the deck. Dinner’s almost ready. We’re grilling!” Daisy said excitedly. Griffin knew her exuberance was because they were handling their own cooking for the weekend, which made Daisy think she was Martha Stewart.
He stuck his tongue out when Jim rolled his eyes.
“Jim, there’s steak and lobster.” Daisy stood by the door, bouncing on her toes. “And cobbler. And um—we got chips! The spicy kind you like?” She wanted to please him so badly that Griffin used all his boyfriend telepathy to get Jim to respond.
“Wow, that sounds great,” Jim said politely.
Daisy beamed. “Oh, and beer! We have beer.”
“Even better.” Jim looked around and spotted the bag with the desserts sitting on the bed. “Oh right—during our little misadventure with the car, I picked up some pies from this farmers’ market.”
Daisy cooed over the sweets like Jim had instead brought spun gold and new shoes for her. She promised to bring them downstairs and refrigerate them. (“That’s what you do, right?” she whispered to Griffin, who googled it on his phone. Apparently yes, you put them in the fridge.) Then she took her leave, telling them to join everyone in the back when they were ready.
Griffin interrupted Jim’s nosy cabinet snooping to give him a tight hug.
“Thank you.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know.” Griffin kissed Jim long and slow, loving the feeling of those muscled arms around his body, the way Jim rubbed his back gently.
He felt words bubble up inside him, things that had been filling his thoughts for months now, but he was still a little afraid of saying them out loud. He held on to Jim tighter instead.
Chapter 8
EVAN WAS not a man who yearned for a life of wealth and leisure, but sitting on a lounger with a view of the Atlantic Ocean, a cold beer in hand and a brisk breeze ushering in the sunset on the deck of a mansion? Well, he was considering playing the lottery when he got home.
Because this was freaking fabulous.
Bennett manned the grill, chatting with Shane and Helena, who were cuddled close together, each holding a glass of champagne and raspberries. Evan tried to remember ever seeing his former partner and close friend look so… chic. Since falling in love with Shane, Helena had changed her style and her life—suddenly her clothes were designer, her life was filled with things Evan thought only happened in movies, and the matrimonial rock on her finger made Evan’s eyes water.
He didn’t say it out loud, but he was in wait mode for her to hand in her resignation. At some point being a cop wasn’t going to be the life Helena wanted.
Evan also knew that even if he did win the lottery, he would never leave his job. Hell, when retirement eventually came, he was pretty sure they’d have to change the locks to get him to settle down and not come to work.
Maybe he’d just join Matt’s little security firm at that point. Couples worked together without mishap, right?
Across the way, Jim and Matt were deep in conversation, feet in the pool, drinks in hand. It looked serious, though with the occasional gesture from Matt toward the house, Evan figured it had to do with the security system.
Under the awning, Daisy and Griffin were tucked onto the wicker sofa with little Sadie in her godfather’s arms. Over time, Evan and Griffin had slowly worked their way into a friendship; Griffin had a sassy mouth and loved nothing better than to make Evan blush, but Evan was aware that underneath it all lay Griffin’s good heart and sincere intentions.
Evan was also very aware of and familiar with the expression on Griffin’s face as he cuddled the baby in his arms.
Baby fever.
Evan remembered it well. Even after Miranda and Katie were born, when they were young and struggling and exhausted, he and Sherri would see a newborn and look at each other, not having to say a word, thoughts communicated through a mutual connection of want. The twins were anything but an accident—Evan and Sherri wanted more kids, and only money stopped them from going for number five.
Everyone else greeted the baby with coos and smiles when she’d made her first appearance to the group. Matt had even stooped to baby talk, much to everyone’s delight and amusement. But the only one with that longing stare? That projection of a heart’s desire beamed out from his gaze?
Griffin.
Jim looked at Sadie like a tiny nuclear bomb with a tricky off switch, and Griffin clearly saw a dream come true.
Evan took a sip of his beer and resolved to have a chat with his young friend before the weekend was over.
Chapter 9
MATT KICKED back in the dining room chair, patting his stomach with a happy sigh. Amazing what a five-thousand-dollar grill could do to a choice piece of New York filet mignon.
Lobster, champagne, potatoes the size of footballs. God, he ate well with this crowd. And he was going for a run in the morning—a decision that seemed well made and quite necessary when Daisy started talking about a recipe she’d found for stuffed french toast.
Movie star turned Holly Homemaker—at least for the weekend.
Everyone at the table was full and buzzed except for Daisy (breastfeeding) and Griffin (“I’m holding the baby! Are you insane?”), the atmosphere relaxed and heavenly. Matt wanted to lie on the floor under the ceiling fan and take a nice nap.
“We’re going to start a fire down on the beach,” Bennett said, holding Daisy’s hand on the tabletop. “For anyone who feels like joining us.”
“I’m going to give Sadie a bath—” Daisy started, but Griffin, who hadn’t relinquished the baby in a good three hours, not even during leaking diaper mishaps or squirmy
unhappiness or feeding time (breast milk in a bottle), quickly cut in.
“I’ll do it. You go down and spend some time with your husband.”
Daisy and Bennett shared a little smile. “You sure you can handle it? She’s pretty wiggly,” Bennett said, more teasing than an actual warning.
Griffin looked indignant. “I have like a hundred nieces and nephews! None of them has ever suffered a mishap in my care.”
“Can’t keep a fern alive, but good with babies,” Jim deadpanned on the other side of Griffin. He got a glare in return.
“Ferns don’t have an early warning system like vocal chords,” Helena said, clearly chiming in as a person who’d killed many a houseplant. “Entirely different care routines.”
“Is this supposed to be convincing me to go to the beach?” Daisy laughed as she stood up. “Come on, Griffin, we’ll give Sadie a bath, the boys can do the dishes, and then we’ll all head out.”
“Fine,” Griffin said, standing up gingerly as Sadie gazed up at him with big sleepy eyes. Evan watched Griffin leave the room, his expression one that Matt associated with his boyfriend being concerned. When Evan noticed Matt’s gaze on him, he shook his head.
“Tell you later,” he murmured as he gathered the plates closest to him.
Matt was good at dishes, good at setting a kitchen to rights efficiently, even managing less than skilled helpers. He quickly became the dude in charge, directing Shane and Helena to clean the table and Jim to scrape the grill. In less than a half hour, everything was finished to Matt’s satisfaction.
“A man of hidden talents,” Bennett proclaimed, clapping him on the back. He’d earned a thumbs-up for knowing where everything went once it was clean. “Evan, you are a lucky man.”
Evan, leaning against the counter with a smile across his lips, nodded slowly. “Agreed,” he said, a flash of something sexy wicked in his blue eyes. Matt gave him an incredibly obvious waggle of his eyebrows in return.
“Ugh, you’re both so gross,” Helena moaned teasingly as she wrapped her arms around Evan’s shoulder, ever the affectionate drunk. “Shane and I aren’t even that gross and we’re still in the honeymoon phase.”
Shane—the daring drunk who sometimes forgot he’d moved out of the frat house—took the cue to rush over to Helena and picked her up bridal style as she shrieked. “The honeymoon phase demands I throw you in the pool!”
“What? That doesn’t even make sense!” she squealed as Shane took off out the open sliding door toward the back deck.
“Don’t drown!” Bennett yelled in their wake, then huffed out a “watch, they’re gonna drown” before heading after them.
A newly arrived Jim looked around warily as he joined the mix. “What did I miss?”
“Drunken pool shenanigans. I think it’s safe to warn for heterosexual nudity and canoodling very soon,” Matt said dryly. He laid the dishtowel he was using over a little rack.
“At least someone is getting lucky.” Jim shrugged, then went to the fridge.
“Griffin still on baby duty?” Evan asked. Matt caught a certain tone in his voice and looked over to find Evan’s face serious.
“I’m thinking that kid is sleeping with us tonight.” Jim came out of the double-wide fridge with a beer. “He won’t put her down.”
He sounded frustrated.
“Hey, he’s taking this godfather thing super serious,” Matt said lightly. “Plus he’s not really able to be around her as much as he’d like now that the movie stuff is heating up. That’s rough, I’m sure.”
“Hmmm” was Jim’s only response. He looked at the beer in his hand like it was a surprise, then shrugged. “Gonna take a walk. I’ll see you guys later.”
When they were alone, Matt sidled up to Evan, pressing against his side. “You gonna tell me what’s going on in that big sexy brain of yours?”
Evan put his arm around Matt’s waist. “Jim ever say anything to you about wanting a family?”
That caught his attention. “What? No. It was tough enough him deciding to settle down. You know us old bachelors. Stubborn till the end.”
Evan didn’t answer; he just made a noncommittal sound in his throat.
“What?”
“You took to having kids in your life pretty easily,” Evan said slowly, tipping his head to look at Matt. Something about his expression—tender and nervous at once—reminded Matt of their beginning days, when the feelings were powerful and terrifying and despite all the reasons it might not work, they couldn’t seem to stop the collision between them.
“Yeah, I guess. Didn’t expect to, but your kids are amazing. And you were worth it to try,” Matt murmured, pressing a kiss against Evan’s jawline to punctuate his words. “Why?”
“I was watching Griffin with Sadie, and I think maybe he’d like for Sadie to be his.”
“And you’re telling me as the head of security for the Ames family to check his bags for a baby when he leaves?”
“Matt.”
“I know what you’re saying, and you’re probably right, and wait—this is you telling me to talk to Jim, right?” Matt sighed against his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Why are we meddling?”
“We’re not meddling. We’re just… being friends.”
“By being nosy.”
Evan huffed, jabbing Matt in the stomach with an elbow. “Helping our friends isn’t about being nosy, it’s about being concerned for their well-being.”
“So you get the nice guy cooing over a baby and I get the grouchy one—I see how it is.” But Matt knew Evan was right, and it was clear there something was up with Jim—his shoulders and expression held a tension that hadn’t been there in the past. At least not post-Griffin. Matt pressed a few more kisses to Evan’s neck.
“Go find Jim and I’ll meet you down by the fire in a little bit,” Evan murmured, and Matt made a sound suspiciously close to a whine.
“Dangling a carrot in front of me.”
“If that’s a euphemism, you’re sleeping on the couch.”
The dirty bargaining Matt so enjoyed from January made an appearance. He let Evan push him against the counter, rough and handsy, and insinuate his thigh between Matt’s legs in a way that made him want to forget all about Jim’s problems. They made out for a few minutes, trading deep kisses and wandering hands until Evan pulled his tongue out of Matt’s mouth with a rude smacking sound.
“Go find Jim,” Evan said. Matt felt quite smug at the breathless delivery of the three words. “Then come and find me.”
“Deal.”
Chapter 10
JIM SAT on the beach, watching the last licks of the burnt orange sunset sink into the ocean. The breeze coming off the water had a bite, and he wished he’d remembered to bring a jacket.
He could go back to the house to get one, but Jim’d rather avoid Griffin and deal with this surge of questions haunting him alone for as long as he could.
He nursed his beer, feet sunk in the rough sand, thoughts swirling in his head until the mess resembled a swarm of angry bees and it started to cause actual pain. When he heard someone approaching, he knew exactly who it was.
“Mr. Shea.”
“Mr. Haight,” Jim said, not even bothering to turn around. Tell me you brought beer.”
Matt settled down beside him, bearing two blankets and a six-pack of some microbrewery stuff Bennett had found locally.
It would do.
Jim wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, waited for Matt to settle next to him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping the beer as the night swallowed up the last bit of daylight.
“You okay?” Matt murmured as Jim sighed and let their bodies connect at the shoulders, a weight sinking his heart down to his stomach. He didn’t want to shoulder this burden alone anymore. He just wanted to get it out of his head.
Maybe it would help.
“I’m jealous of an infant. And Griffin’s career,” he said finally, the truth hurting his throat. “I’m tired of traveling,” he added,
the words hanging in the air for a long minute.
“Well,” Matt said, quiet then, as if he was thinking about a response. “That doesn’t seem to be the end of the world.”
Jim frowned. “Didn’t say it was.”
“And yet here you sit, staring at the ocean and making my boyfriend feel bad for you. I could be getting laid right now, on fancy sheets in a badass luxurious bed, but instead I’m here, making sure you’re all right.” The words were sharp but the tone was gentle, friendly, and Jim laughed, dry and tired.
“I’m fine.” Jim paused. “Just a little unsettled right now. Living out of a suitcase is apparently not the glamorous life I was told it was.”
Matt kicked off his shoes and let them roll down the little rise and into the dark. The illumination from the house’s distant patio lights didn’t quite reach their spot, and kept the two of them in the shadows, right on the edge of pitch-blackness. “Did you have a plan? Like—what happens when you’re done?”
“No, not really. It was just about getting away from life for a while.” Jim kicked a bit of sand. “We didn’t have an end date.”
“So you tell him you need one. He’s got the movie in LA—you fly back there, you go back to Seattle, you decide what’s next.”
Jim heard something loaded into the words, and he turned to look at Matt’s strong profile. Staying friends with an ex-lover wasn’t his style, especially when it was borne out of a one-night stand between two emotionally compromised people—one that had less to do with sex than with a desperate need for intimacy. When he let his gaze settle on Matt, he wasn’t remembering the sex. He was remembering how vulnerable he’d felt in the moment of them being together.
There would always be something between them, something tender and caring, and Jim knew what he was holding close to his chest right now was something he could share with his friend.
“He… he wants kids,” Jim murmured, a hitch in his breath punctuating the word. Matt grunted next to him, and Jim knew everyone could see it, that it was like skywriting over the monstrous house behind them.
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