Halos and Heroes - 19. Chapter 19

Getting near the end! Sorry about the hiatus. Apparently, computer search engines don't realize that most people publish stories under pen names, and decide to give them a hard time despite proof that yes, we are who we say we are. But it gave me time to work on other things and now Halos is almost at a close. I decided to break this chapter into two parts. I'll post the other separately because it's super intense. There will be major disclaimers and trigger warnings on that one, so I wanted to keep this one loving; the calm before the shit storm to come. It will work out in the end, but you'll have to stick with me till it does!

I'll never stop dreaming that one day we can be a real family, together, all of us laughing and talking, loving and understanding, not looking at the past but only to the future.

—LaToya Jackson

TARA’S 911, -breakfast needed ASAP because I’m here at Sofia’s house and we’re starving!!!!!- text had come in bright and early at 9 a.m. the morning after we’d gone to the club. Ben and I’d still been wrapped up together under an oversized, lightweight throw blanket on the outdoor couch about the size of a love seat, on his back deck, enjoying strong cups of espresso and the cloudless blue azure of the sky that reflected the deeper sapphire tones of the ocean. Considering that Tara, Sofia, A.J. and Max hadn’t even arrived when Ben and I’d finally left after a quick second round that’d been followed by a thorough cleaning of Roman’s office around 11 p.m., I hadn’t expected anyone to try and make contact with us before noon, so I’d put my cell on silent mode. I knew that A.J. and Max were with Tara and Sofia which meant they had a former Ranger and a top trauma doctor with them in the unlikely case anything went wrong. They were fine, and I needed to start trusting that other people could be there for my family long enough for me to focus on my other relationships, like the one I was trying to build with Ben.

They’ll be fine, I’d told myself. Nobody would need me. Especially not after the hour drive, they’d had to get back home. They’d all just fall into bed exhausted probably at least a little drunk so I’d have peace of mind till at least noon. I was proven wrong when Tara’s text had come in. A text I hadn’t responded to until 9:45 a.m. after I’d finished my coffee, had a light breakfast of scrambled eggs and pumpernickel toast, then showered with Ben.

I’d have dropped everything for a true emergency, but as much as I loved Tara, the state of her stomach wasn’t more important to me than getting sudsy with Ben and coming with my cock down his throat before I returned the favor. He had a busy day ahead of him with work he needed to get done at the church, so relaxing him was my one true calling until he got out of the house. My schedule was less packed, structured mostly with survival training for my new world order with Max. Like I told Ben last night, regardless of the fact that things were strained between Max and I right now because of what he’d confessed to me last night, two other things were true.

1) Max was still the person I trusted most in this world because under his belt were years of proof that he deserved it and 2) he was my family’s family as much as he was mine, just like his parents were mine in my heart. We’d never be out of each other’s lives, so we had to figure this shit between us out and learn how to navigate the stupidly awkward as we went along, just like we always had. Nothing had really changed. We still loved each other. Only now, I knew exactly how much Max really loved me, and he knew it was too late because I was in love with someone else.

After I’d sent Ben on his way to work with a packed lunch and a kiss, I drove to the local café that Ben liked and picked up some ham and cheese breakfast sandwiches. I got enough for the girls, as well as Max, and A.J. if they were there. Sofia got cream cheese and lox on a feathery soft, fluffy croissant because I knew they were her favorite. The two chocolate filled croissants in another small white paper bag were for Tara just in case things hadn’t worked out well with Sloane. I considered the box of assorted donuts—minus the maple and bacon one I’d gotten for myself as an impulse purchase—open season for whomever happened to be there since both Emma and Addie had friends drifting in and out of the house frequently. The smaller box of sprinkled donut holes however, had Emma’s name written on the top in the surprisingly elegant script of the pink haired teenage girl who’d helped me at the café.

When I let myself into Sofia’s house a little before 11 a.m. I heard Sofia’s voice call out, “Sam? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Sof. I’ve got food and donuts.” A distinction I needed to make because according to every female living in this house, donuts were in a completely different category then just regular food.

There was no other response from Sofia, but when he giggles blended with the sound of another woman’s laughter, I sighed and girded my loins. If you weren’t already in on the joke when women started cackling like that, it usually meant that you were either the butt of an unknown joke, or that they were going for their brooms. Neither situation was ideal at 11 a.m. but at least I wasn’t hung over.

I forged forward, the last twenty feet of my trek to the kitchen doorway guided by strains of a familiar, fast rock beat whose unique chorals and beat were identifiable even in an instrumental version, when it was just pitches of perfectly timed harmony. Apparently, the ‘80s were back in full swing at the Trammell house.

I rolled my eyes, but let Sofia and Tara belt out, “I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero till the end of the night. He's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast, and he's gotta be fresh from the fight. I need a hero!,” before they ramped up the song on the Bluetooth speaker. They’d gotten through most of it—Tara surprisingly on key while Sofia was far from it—by the time I’d gotten all the sandwiches laid out on the island and opened the communal box of donuts. Emma’s box was placed safely on the counter by the coffee pot for her to dig into later.

I slow clapped them both once they finished their serenade— which had been impressively exuberant considering they’d probably spent most of the night drinking. “Cute,” I said drolly, tossing Tara’s bag in her general direction so she had to lunge for it with a curse. I handed Sofia her bag, then helped myself to a cup of the remaining coffee in the pot as they fell into the food like beautifully rabid barracudas.

I didn’t add my usual Ceylon cinnamon to my coffee because I smelled the rich hazelnut before I even took a sip, which meant Sofia hadn’t made it. Neither of us were fans of flavored coffee, but A.J. and Max were, so they must’ve both spent the night. I steeled myself, then took a sip from the mug. I’d deal with the coffee because faced with that fact and the performance from the female dynamic duo setting the tone for the day, I needed a lot more caffeine pumping through my veins than the one cup I’d had at Ben’s earlier. At least that had been his usual top tier espresso.

“When the hell did you get home that I was getting hangry texts at 9am?”

“Three, but we’re grownups with jobs and children, so food’s how we shall go on and on, al la of Celine Dion,” Tara said.

I raised a pointed eyebrow since she was wearing a cream-colored camisole with pajama bottoms that I’d seen Sofia wear many times before. Grown women wearing pink sleep pants printed with hot dogs tended to make an impression on you. Sofia on the other hand, was dressed for her day in teal blue scrubs, hair neatly pulled back, her makeup minimal. She looked fresh faced and more content than I’d seen her in months.

“Sof’s got kids and is ready for the day. Did you pick up a second job at a hot dog stand that I didn’t know about?”

Sofia giggled around a bite of her lox croissant after she’d offered half to me like I knew she would. She rarely ate full meals before work, but I waved it away.

“Save it for lunch.”

I earned myself a smile and kiss on the cheek before Sofia moved over to the coffeepot to pour out the remaining contents into two separate, insulated travel mugs. She added mocha flavored creamer to the blue mug which I assumed was Max’s, since A.J. didn’t have a huge, sweet tooth. After screwing the lids tightly on both mugs, Sofia washed out the pot, then grabbed the blessedly bright yellow can of Bustelo to make a fresh pot of coffee.

“Have I mentioned that I love you and If I was straight, Connor would’ve never stood a chance?” I said, earning another grin at my grateful expense from Sofia when she took the cup of flavored blasphemy away from me as the pot began to gurgle happily, filling the kitchen with the fragrant scene of strong espresso.

“And Father Ben would be a very unhappy man.”

“True, but he was very happy after this morning’s shower hijinks, so it’s all good.”

Sofia giggled. Tara eyed me as she licked some chocolate off of her lower lip when I swept her pajamas with a deliberate look to silently illustrate my earlier point.

“So hot and capable, yet he doesn’t know the about the miracles performed by some quickly slapped on makeup, and a suit jacket thrown over this cami. I’ll look practically corporate when I’m sitting down behind the desk in Sofia’s office, taking my first clients at 1 p.m. in my comfortable, borrowed PJ’s.”

“Are lesbians even supposed to endorse hot dogs? Doesn’t that break the ‘I lick clit’ code of conduct?”

Sofia’s palm caught me on the back of the head, but I couldn’t complain as she pressed a cup of hot, fresh coffee into my hand with her free one.

“You’ve seen me eat, Sam,” Tara said. “Believe me, my ILC card is legit.”

“Is Sloane thinking the same thing today?”

Tara made a rude sound then sighed, visibly deflating. She looked more defeated than I’d ever seen her. Good thing I’d erred on the side of caution and gotten two chocolate filled croissants.

“No, she isn’t. She had her hands full last night after all the excitement that Micky and Violet said you and Ben were at the center of—which I’ll need more deets on in a second—so while Sloane’s eyes were much more appreciative of the view made possible by a killer red dress, and an obscenely expensive push-up bra then they were of cream-colored lace, we didn’t flirt, much less talk.

“I’m sorry Tara.” And I honestly was. Unrequited emotions sucked.

She shrugged, but then her lips curved slowly with an impish humor that was suddenly directed at Sofia not me. I raised a curious brow when Sofia slowly flushed pink as she handed me the little glass container of Ceylon cinnamon that I kept on the lowest rung of her spice rack.

Curiouser and Curiouser.

“What am I missing here?”

Sofia made a throat clearing sound of warning that Tara cheerfully ignored. “I couldn’t get Sloane to play with me, but the neckline of my dress was made for body shots.”

Oh boy.

“Max?”

“Nope.” Tara smile deepened until her blue eyes crinkled tightly at the corners behind her glasses. She looked over at Sofia meaningfully. Sofia didn’t meet Tara’s eyes as she shifted a little further down the length of the island to investigate the open donut box like she was trying to narrow down her options, even though other than that one time that she’d requested a chocolate peanut donut when A.J. had first arrived, she only ever chose glazed or jelly filled. I’d broken her out of her old-fashioned habit because Connor was dead, and those donuts sucked.

I grinned as I took a sip of my coffee from my ‘#1 Uncle’ mug—one of many random love gifts from Emma that didn’t need any particular occasion—then sat in the bar stool directly across from Sofia and Tara so I had a front row seat to what, if Sofia’s level of avoidance was any indication, was going to be an even better show then their two-woman 80’s revival serenade had been.

“Start talking.”

“I’d love to handsome, but it’s not really my story to tell. At least not the opening scene.”

Sofia closed the box without actually choosing a donut, her words coming out in a rushed whoosh of heavily accented sound. “I took the shot off of Tara. It was tequila, which means there was salt...”

“Which means there was tongue,” Tara said with a wicked smile.

My brow shot up again and held this time. “Whose idea was that?”

“Mine.” Sofia peeked at me from between the fingers of her hands when she covered her face with them.

“Why?”

She sighed. Tara winked at me as she started holding up a finger every time that Sofia gave a reason.

“Because we were drinking. Because I’ve never done it before and was curious. Because Tara needed to get Sloane’s attention. And because it was really good tequila Sam.”

The edge of my coffee mug partially hid my grin as Tara wiggled four fingers at me. Sofia sounded more sheepish than annoyed. I’d done worse in the past, so I wasn’t judging. I just found it both funny and hopeful because it looked like Sofia’s old spunk and sense of spontaneity at appropriate times, were coming back.

“Besides, Tara’s my best friend. She’s safe.”

She wasn’t wrong. Tara might have the hots for Sofia on some level, but Sofia wasn’t gay, and she was with A.J. Tara respected boundaries and was a loyal friend to the people she adopted into her inner circle. I was proof of that. But none of that negated my brotherly obligation to tease Sofia whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Tequila’s definitely several steps up from peach schnapps, so don't worry about it, Sof. We've all had at least one regrettable drunk moment with a gorgeous, handsy friend."

Tara shot me a dirty look. "Hey! My hands remained behind my back for that perfect angle. A.J. was the one holding her hair back so it didn’t cover her face, OR block the show.” Her lips twitched. I took another sip of my coffee because nope, that was where I drew my line in the sand.

“Sofia was barely tipsy at that point,” Tara continued. “I'd never take advantage of an inebriated woman. Well not since college, but I was a horny kid back then. I've evolved and those days were in college with girls who wanted to go all ‘hoo rah! Female empowerment’ by redefining the word loose. I’d never take advantage of that beautiful, brilliant creation over there that we both adore."

Tara gestured Sofia’s way with the same hand she used to toss the scrunched up white paper bag her breakfast had come in, at my head after her speech. When it missed, too light to make the short journey across the island, she grabbed the one maple bacon glazed donut in the box that I was reaching for—a recommendation from an employee at the café as being a solid choice for someone like me who didn’t love singularly sweet flavors—licked it, then stuck her tongue out at me.

"That's attractive. I need to get you the same t-shirt I gave Max last year for his birthday.”

“I licked it, so it’s mine?”

Tara smirked at my surprised look. “You’re too late to the party, baby boy. I already own that one. In hot pink.”

“God help us all. You’re the female version of Max Melone.”

“No, my sweet love. He’s the male version of Tara Fitzgerald.” Tara offered me the licked donut. She took my grunt as the ‘no thanks’ it was meant to be, then bit into it herself. “This isn’t something I’d have chosen myself, but it’s pretty good. Sweet and savory.”

“The one time I’m actually interested in eating a donut, and you pull a culinary cock block.”

“Life is all about learning to handle disappointment, handsome. Tragedy makes us stronger. This donut travesty keeps you all GI Joe strong, even without the uniform

I eyed her sideways and I went back to our previous conversation. “How did A.J. feel about you and your ‘safe’ status licking salt off my sister?”

Tara smiled at me sweetly. “Ask Sofia about the state of her tonsils after she finished takin’ the shot and A.J. got a hankerin’ of his own for salt and good booze.” Tara’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she finished my donut, then wiped her fingers and mouth clean like she didn’t want to cross contaminate the croissant she finally tore in half to lick out the filling.

“My little lesbian heart was crushed, but as beautiful and special as this woman is, it was a one-time thing that I’ll hold snug and safe in my soul as I release her to what will potentially be a very happy life one day if that sexy ginger has a dick as big as his heart.”

I laughed. Sofia made a strangled sound behind her hands. “Dios Santa Virgen!”

“Max offered to take one for the team if A.J. wanted to even the playing field.” Tara licked the remaining chocolate out of the one half of the croissant, then popped it into her mouth. “I’ve never seen a redhead turn that particular shade of pink before. So much for being an ally of our own personal rainbow coalition.”

I grinned. “There’s not a homophobic bone in A.J.’s body. He just knows from many anecdotal stories, both mine, and everyone else all too happy to talk, that Max is good enough with his mouth to possibly make him reconsider just how straight he actually is.” I glanced at Sofia. “As much as I don’t need confirmation of this statement, you know he’s straighter than a ruler. Max knows it too, which is why he suggested it in the first place. You know how Max is, Sof. He was probably aiming for a purple hued blush instead of the standard pink.”

Sofia chuckled as she lowered her hands from her own flushed cheeks. It’d been her, Max and me against the world for so long, she knew as well as I did about Max’s almost compulsory need to teasingly push the envelope at times with the people he cared about.

“After last night, there are a lot of people who know how Max is,” Tara interrupted with an indelicate snort around a mouthful of her second croissant, the first having apparently already succumbed to the digestive processes of her stomach. “He redefined the phrase, ‘holding court.’”

“He’s always been like that. I know for a fact that he briefly dated one woman he met at a supermarket, and a guy he shared detergent with at a laundromat. Not at the same time though."

"I'm sure that's not the only thing they shared," Tara said with an unladylike snort. "Last night on that dance floor... Doc McFreaky was up in the house."

Sofia looked amused as she shot Tara a pointed look. I'd seen the look many times before. It was the mommy, big-sister hybrid of, 'you've been caught, now confess.' Tara was apparently familiar with it too, because she cleared her throat. The uncharacteristic hint of a blush on her cheeks inspired my own version of that look, and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine, fine, I admit that I was straight for about five seconds because the boy knows how to drop it like it's hot, and I've been single and horny for too long for me to talk about unless there are more croissants in that bag." She paused before she looked over at Sofia and grinned. "And then I was reminded by salt and tequila, of just how delightfully dykey I am."

She laughed as Sofia snorted softly. “He was just having a good time," she said, coming to Max's defense like she had since we were kids. I'd loved Max most of my adult life, but Sofia had adored him since the first day I’d introduced them. The feeling had been mutual, and she’d protected Max like a momma grizzly, especially from Connor who’d always ridden Max hard about being gay. She'd been the most supportive person in both my life and Max's about our sexuality, and apparently still was.

"No one was complaining. No one."

The emphasis she put on those two words made Tara smirk.

"I've been to Allegria a few times with Ben, and that scarily beautiful and complicated man known as Roman Cruz, has never gotten on the dance floor even once. He’s always lurking, keeping an eye on the world below from his office cameras, or from the VIP levels like a sexy gargoyle in designer suits.” She opened the donut box and found a glazed one which she broke in half, before offering the larger piece to Sofia. Sofia’s lips twitched as she accepted the peace offering.

“Roman always has a major stick up his ass when he's on the clock,” Tara continued. “But he was working a whole other angle last night when he cut in while Max was dancing with a few different men." She paused, her glee about the good gossip obvious in her pretty face. "When Roman joined him on that dance floor, it was like Moses parting a very freaky Red Sea. Everyone else just sort of scattered. I was taking bets with the Misfits at the bar that he was going to break his own anal retentive house rules about no sex in the club the way they were grooving on that dance floor.”

She and Sofia looked at each other and in unison said, "Despacito!"

Tara grabbed her cell phone from beside her coffee mug, then quickly found what she was looking for to answer my questioning look. The music video on YouTube was fairly tame, but I was able to translate the Spanish song quickly enough in my head to understand the explicitly sexual lyrics that made me whistle halfway through. If Ben ever needed Max's number for anything, this was definitely Max's ringtone.

Before I could say anything though, I distantly heard the front door open. Max and A.J.’s voices preceded the little bump and grind move Max entered the kitchen with. “Good morning, friends and fans.”

He offered us all an unabashed grin as he set white grocery bags printed with the name of a local deli, onto the island. A.J. did the same with the bags in his own hand before he moved over to brush a gentle, publicly appropriate kiss across Sofia’s mouth. Tara and I got an amused look, his rusty brows crinkling in the middle.

"I guess we know what the morning topic of conversation is. Good thing we got plenty of snacks for the show, though it looks like someone else got here first.” He peered into the bag of leftover sandwiches.”

“Tara sent me a hangry text at 9 a.m..”

A.J. grinned at her. “I thought you were going to make pancakes with the kids.”

“That’s going to be tonight’s dinner. A night of drinking gives me the munchies. Don’t start casting stones, sir because everyone in this kitchen right now has a story.”

A.J. pretended to zip his lips, then moved to slide his arms around Sofia’s slender waist from behind. They were still mostly PDA free when the kids were around, but when it was just us, they relaxed into an easy affection that I approved of because I hadn’t seen Sofia this happy in years.

“We already went through all the interesting shenanigans. You’re just in time to hear Sam fill us in on what happened last night before we got there. Violet gave us the Cliff Notes version, but they were slammed with customers at the bar, so you need to fill in the good parts.”

I shrugged. “Not much to say.” Because I definitely wasn’t telling them about what had happened between Ben and I in Roman’s office, and that was what I considered the ‘good parts.’

“An entitled jackhole got handsy with Ben—some former client who didn’t want to get with the modern-day programming that Ben is off limits now.”

“Uh huh. Generally, a, ‘hey buddy, that’s mine, so hands off if you please,’ commentary is a quick resolution to conversations like that. It’s a peaceable ‘fuck off.’ No bloodshed necessary.”

Tara’s eyes were practically sparkling as she teased me just for the sisterly love of it, not because she disapproved. Even if she only knew highlights of how things had gone down between Michael and I at Deseos, she obviously knew enough to guarantee that had she been there too, I’d probably have been stepping in to drag her away from Michael as she took pieces of his face off with her long fingernails.

“Considering you’re the same woman who just licked out the only donut I wanted from the box, and we’re still friends, I’d say my self-restraint is amazing.”

A.J. hid his snicker in the side of Sofia’s neck. Max grinned at us from around the mouthful he’d taken from one of the ham and cheese breakfast sandwiches when Tara casually flipped me off, then started looking through the new grocery offerings herself.

“Don’t be grouchy because you were too slow to the donut party. Apparently, you came through last night, all Bonnie Tyler worthy, though witness accounts are sketchy and have you doing everything from some basic Swayze via Roadhouse ass kicking, to some vintage Jean-Claude Van Damn moves.”

“He shoved Ben,” I said, my tone even. “No one hurts Ben.”

He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.

“Broken bones heal, and it was his wrist, not his arm or his shoulder, which heal slower. He’ll be fine. Maybe next time he has a choice to make, he won’t pick stupid.”

“If that was how the world worked Sarge, I’d be out of business in a heartbeat. Fortunately, stupid’s a state of mind that overtakes enough people with axes to grind, that the firm will always have clients who need protection.”

“As long as he stays away from Ben, it’s all good.”

Recalling that bone deep fear in Michael’s eyes when I’d threatened him, made me doubt he’d be a problem we had to worry about in the future. In the unlikely event that his and Ben’s paths ever crossed again, Michael would probably run to the other side of the street and hide under the nearest rock he could find.

“So, you saved the day and got the boy. Well, the priest,” Max said, amending his initial statement with a lazy smile, though the expression in his sea green eyes said more than either sentence had. “Good job.”

“From what I heard, you had your own hands full last night.”

Max’s right brow lifted slightly at my subtle challenge to the discreetly offered snark I doubted had gone over the head of anyone in the room with us right now. We just stared one another down as we had so many times before when we were irritated with each other over whatever asinine issue had come up in our decades of friendship. We’d always gotten over any of our stupid little tiffs before, but I wasn’t sure about right now. The ball was in Max’s court, and I hated to admit how afraid I was that he’d kick it completely out of bounds.

Don’t do this to me, man. I love you. Don’t make me choose because I can’t choose you…

Max took another bite from the sandwich in his hand, slowly chewing and swallowing it before his expression relaxed, and a slight softening of the edges of his mouth allowed a smile to peak through. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until I felt my lungs deflate when I exhaled.

“Well, Red over there,” Max said gesturing towards Tara with his half-eaten sandwich, “spent most of the night tryin’ to get the attention of a girl who has no idea what she’s missin’.” He winked at Tara who actually grinned back as she toasted him with what looked like half of a BLT. “And those two were doin’ the whole new relationship canoodlin’ thing, so I needed to keep myself occupied. No one likes a third wheel. Fortunately, I found a few very welcomin’ new friends happy to bring me into their happily horny, last-night-on-earth, bachelor party herd. Roman just crashed party,” Max said after finishing his sandwich and washing it down with a bottle of lemon green tea that he pulled out from one of the bags, “Since he owns the place, who was I to tell him no? Besides, a man that big, who moves like water, is somethin’ everyone should experience at least once in their lives. So, I did. One dance, then poof, off he went. Guess he wasn’t brave enough to see what could happen next.”

That last sentence felt a little pointed, but there was no heat in his tone or his eyes when they briefly met mine. I got only the briefest glimpse of a hint of rare self-deprecation before he offered me a wink, then moved to inspect the coffee pot.

“Much like my hazelnut happiness apparently.”

“I filled that blue insulated cup with coffee for you. The green one is for A.J. Sam, and I needed real coffee,” Sofia said. “But I added that mocha creamer that you like to yours. Addie flavors her milkshakes with it when she makes them.”

Sofia squealed when Max took his cup and crossed the short distance where she was still standing with A.J. He bussed a noisy kiss to her cheek before doing the same to our mutual best friend. A.J. grinned and rolled his eyes as he waved Max off, otherwise non-plussed.

“A.J. you better marry this girl. She’s had my heart wrapped around her finger since we were fourteen, so anythin’ other than hearts and flowers means I might have to kick your ass.”

Tara, A.J. and I laughed. Sofia blushed to a shade every red colored fruit on earth aspired to be, and narrowed her eyes at Max. He blew her a kiss. A.J. brushed his own kiss along her cheek, then murmured something into her ear that none of the rest of us could hear. Her blush deepened and a soft smile curved her mouth so whatever he’d said, it hadn’t been bad.

“Trouble,” she finally said, the word directed to Max with a twitch of her lips before she grinned. “But I’m happy you’re home. We’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too. It’s good to be back. I already promised Addie-Cat she can take her drivin’ test in my Charger once I’m settled and get it out of my parent’s garage. And Emma and I nailed down weekly ‘Just Dance’, rock out parties. But before any of that happens, I want to look into A.J.’s cup ‘cause knowin’ who has more inside their mug means knowin’ who has more of your love.”

Sofia laughed. The smile she graced Max with was like sunshine. For a few heartbeats, listening to Max and A.J. cheerfully giving one another shit as they peered into one another’s cups as they threatened to break out tape measures to determine who had more of Sofia’s affection, I felt like we’d time warped back to a simpler time in our lives— back before we’d all started getting in our own way, and complicating life. But living in this moment together, I felt hopeful that we might eventually kick off our joint lifetime of baggage.

“I think it’s pretty fair to say that the kissin’ tree spot is being held in reserve for A.J. and Sofia when it isn’t occupied by Sam and Ben,” Tara said, sidling around the kitchen island to smoothly loop her arm through Max’s. “For now, it’s just you and me, handsome. Of course, there won’t be marriage and there won’t be sex, but there will be plenty of dancin,’ unless you dump me because you decide to give Roman a chance to get your heels by your head.”

Max's smile was slow and lazy. A smile that usually got him into pairs of panties and boxers alike with ease. This time it was also laced with amusement when Tara added, “I might have to introduce you to a few of my favorite haunts. The way you attract people, maybe you'll meet a nice girl who likes other nice girls."

“I can do that. Only problem with that plan Sugar, is that most of the girls I meet who fall into that category, also like good southern boys as the fillin’ to their sandwich. Makes the parts line up better.”

Tara laughed, mirroring Max’s grin when he gently tugged on a long blonde curl. Just one smartass, libertine soul conspiring with another—the start to a beautiful friendship that would probably hurt my head depending on what kind of trouble they got into together. I'd also have to start sharing two of my closest friends with each other as past met present. But as my cell vibrated and I saw an emoji loaded text message from Ben, I was alright with that.

Ben: Still planning to come home tonight? 😊 😊😊

Home.

I waited for the usual nausea-causing anxiety to hit me when I read that word, but my stomach remained as calm as the sea outside his house that morning, even when I glanced in Max’s direction. He was laughing over something Tara said, and I smiled slightly.

Sam: Yeah, I’ll be home tonight… I have something I want to tell you.

Ben: Want to tell me now?

Sam: No. A text message isn’t big enough for these three words…

I held my breath when there was a delay long enough to make me stupidly ignore the fact that Ben had already said that he loved me, so he couldn’t possibly be upset now that I’d practically told him I felt the same way.

Breathe Sam.

I exhaled when my cell beeped again with his message.

Ben: I’m making paella then... special dinner for a special night. P.S, I love you.

I grinned, then rolled my eyes when I looked up and saw Tara, Sofia, A.J. and even Max, making kissy faces at me.

Yeah, putting our baggage behind us might actually be possible….

***

“So, how did your day go?"

I was distracted from Ben’s question by my watering mouth that was paying close attention to the fragrant blend of flavors from the seafood he was mixing into the rice of the paella. The chicken and sausage were already interspersed throughout. It was a ridiculously complicated dish for just two people, but I wasn't going to rain on his culinary parade since Ben was practically vibrating with excitement like a kid on Christmas. I guess knowing your emotionally constipated boyfriend was finally going to say those three words that you’d been holding out for like Miss Tyler for her hero, deserved some paella.

"Today?”

“Hanging out with your entire crew. It’s been a while since Max was home, right?”

“Yeah. Honestly, I thought it’d be awkward, but it wasn’t. The truth is that when I dropped the ball with Sofia and the kids for those five years I was gone, Max picked it up. He’s never been completely out of their lives and now, with A.J. being here too, our janky puzzle with the missing pieces seems to be fitting together like it’s supposed to. He and Tara are going to inevitably become best friends, which should scare the rest of the world as much as it terrifies me. They’re practically the same person with different hardware.”

Ben snickered as he kept stirring. “I picked up on that, but it might be a good thing for Max to have his own therapist friend as a cushion while he tries to reacclimate to civilian life. It was difficult for you, and even though your circumstances are different, it still has to be a challenge to leave one life for another that’s a 180-degree shift.”

I nodded. “Yeah, especially after he took down that hospital sniper. I think that messed him up more than he wants to admit. It’s never easy taking a life. Doesn’t matter if it’s the first time, or so many that you lost count.”

Ben glanced at me over his shoulder like he was trying to make sure I was ok and not spiraling after that comment. I smiled to let him know I was alright. I was more worried about Max than the state of my own mind for once. Things between us had been strained last night, but after we’d shared some donuts with the girls this morning, and Max and Emma had crushed Addie and I in four rounds of Emma’s ‘Just Dance’ video game, Max and I had played Call of Duty for an hour and just shot the shit, catching up while Emma and Addie went to a friend’s pre-planned playdate, and Sofia and A.J. snuck in a little date of their own, in an also pre-planned grocery and Target run.

Max and I hadn’t brought up Ben once, silently agreeing that as open as we wanted to be with one another so we could return to life as usual, it was just too soon right now. Instead, we’d taken bets on when A.J. would move down here permanently. Now that Max and I were both bound to Florida, neither of us was going to let Sofia and the girls leave. Max called it for six months. I called it for a year, possibly with a temporary break in between. Sofia and I were a lot alike, but she bore the additional weight of a former Catholic’s guilt. That fucker would inevitably rear its ugly head and make her doubt that she deserved happiness after everything that had gone down with Connor, and the aftereffects her choices had left on Adelyn.

A.J. was loyal and stuck things out when he gave a shit about someone, but he was also a workaholic. Restructuring his company so that he could run it from Florida could be a stress he wasn’t ready to take on it he didn’t think Sofia was one hundred and ten percent in for the long haul. Max doubled down on six months. I was confident they’d eventually meet in the middle, but that it’d definitely take longer than that. The only thing I wasn’t sure of, was whether or not A.J. and Sofia would end up married before Ben and I did.

That thought made my cheeks heat pleasantly. Before coming back to Florida, I never would’ve considered marriage being even a remote possibility for me. Devlin hadn’t been the type, and I hadn’t cared enough to try and make him the type. I would’ve said yes if Max had ever asked me, but of course that hadn’t happened. I hadn’t even known how he really felt about me until yesterday. As far as I’d been concerned, I was going to live and die a single gay man with the occasional hookups in between battling my demons and trying to get my family back on track. But now, everything was different, and after that X-rated game of “Truth” that we’d played in Ben’s bathroom the day he’d trimmed my beard, I knew that he intended us for us to wear matching rings one day. Initially, that realization had felt overwhelming, but now, I wanted it so much, that it terrified me to admit it even to myself.

Ben was a good man. Better than I probably deserved, and he loved me. I loved him too. Fuck, I fucking adored him, and I wanted to tell him, intended to tell him tonight. I was just waiting for just the right moment and right now, when he was stirring a pot of really hot food, didn’t feel like that moment. However, helping him prepare dinner with matching rings on our fingers one day… yeah, that would happen.

Tonight, the girls were having sleepovers at friend’s houses. Sofia, A.J. Tara and Max were going to a sushi place that A.J. had wanted to try in Miami which was allegedly close to the hospital that Max would be working at, so there was no reason for me not to stay with Ben tonight.

“Max is tough as nails though, so he’ll be ok if he learns how to let it go. Tara can probably get him to open up, though God only knows what other trouble they’ll get into in the meantime.”

Ben grinned. “She likes him. She texted me that he reminds her of her brother, Nate. Which surprised me because from everything she ever told me about Nate, he seemed more like the quiet, salt-of-the-earth type. But she said they have the same, ‘I’ll handle it’ energy.” He smiled. “You have that same energy. So does A.J. to be honest, so I guess we all have a thing for heroes.”

I made a noncommittal sound that just deepened Ben’s smile. “You know you are, right?”

“I’m what?”

“A hero to everyone who’s lucky enough to know you. But more importantly, you’re my hero. Last night… despite me never wanting you to see that kind of evidence of my past life, having you come through like that for me was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“Didn’t scare you?”

“Absolutely not.” Ben’s expression softened as he put the lid on the pot, set the wooden spoon down in the little metal tray he had resting beside the stove, then turned to face me as he leaned against the counter, hands relaxed in his pockets. “I’d never be afraid of you, Sam. And after last night, I’m even happier than I was before that you’re spending your nights in my bed because I know you’d kill anything that came through that door intending to do us harm. Like I said, it’s comforting and hot.”

I felt the heat in my cheeks get more concentrated as I cleared my throat. Ben might consider me a hero, but being brave about my feelings was an entirely different thing.

“Max likes Tara too,” I said, changing the subject. “Said she has spunk. He plans to try and play interference between her and Sloane. If anyone can get them onto the same page, its him. He’s good like that. Talks a lot of trash, but you can’t find anyone more loyal than him once he lets you in. He keeps his friends circle small, partially because he can’t always stop being ‘on’ like he has to be around his dad. But where he lacks in handling his own feelings, he's good with helping other people with theirs. It’s a sort of frigged up superpower.”

Ben smiled though I suspected it was more for the fact that I’d cleaned up my language around him, than for the information about Max.

“Families are a weak spot for most of us, good or bad. It’s just more difficult when they fall onto the bad end. We have to try a little harder to extract whatever good we can.” He smiled again. “Like this paella recipe, which was originally my grandmothers.”

“Well, it looks good. Sofia makes paella, but I never learned how. I’m happy to be a taste tester though."

Ben chuckled. "My mother taught all my siblings and I how to make it once we were old enough to be trusted to wield a knife without attacking one another."

"Did that happen often?"

Ben nodded solemnly, though his eyes danced with amusement. "Growing up in a house of seven kids, we were lucky to make it through the teenage years with minimal carnage."

I grinned, then reached for my water glass as I watched him when he turned back to work on whatever was in the other pot he had on the stove. Comfortable in his own space, Ben moved like one of the works of art he created. I'd never been a wordsmith, but adjectives like graceful and beautiful threatened to fly off my tongue as he moved around the kitchen. Stuffing a chip from the bowl on the table into my mouth stifled the urge, allowing me to admire the view in silence. Some things didn't need words to describe them.

Like the way my pulse quickened when Ben shuffled in unselfconscious rhythm to the salsa beat playing softly on the radio, adding a little spin when he reached the refrigerator. Or how my mouth went dry when he bent down to get something from a lower cabinet, and his jeans dipped low on his narrow hips, revealing bronzed glory. There was a lickable sheen dappling his skin because of the heat radiating from the oven, but I didn't mind the warmth. It gave me a legit reason to sweat.

"If your family ever decides to stop being stupid one day, I’d like to meet them," I said casually, watching for his reaction.

Ben stopped working, turning to hand me the jar of red peppers he was trying to open. It popped for me immediately, but instead of making the clichéd wisecrack about having loosened it for me, he said, "Really?"

"Of course. Isn’t that what couples do when they’re serious? Meet their future in-laws to gauge the level of crazy they’ll have to deal with for the rest of their lives because they’re crazy about that one member of their family?...”

For a moment, Ben and I just stared at one another, the jar of peppers temporarily forgotten. It wasn’t how I’d expected to tell him I loved him. Honestly, I wasn’t sure it actually counted as a real confession. But judging by the way Ben’s face lit up, he didn’t care that it was awkward.

First times are rarely perfect, Sam.

He’d said that once. I wondered if he still felt the same way.

“Sam….”

“I love you,” I said, my voice soft but confident as I got out of my chair so I could back Ben up the few steps to the refrigerator. I took the jar from his hands and set it safely on the counter. "And if that day ever comes, I'll answer any questions they have. If you can put up with my entire crazy crew, I can handle yours."

When I braced my hands beside his head on the stainless-steel door, Ben brushed his knuckles against my jaw, reminding me that the best moments in life were rarely planned out. “I love you too, Sam.”

I leaned into the touch. "When will dinner be ready?"

"It has to simmer for about another hour. Why?"

"I've always preferred showing to telling."

Ben met me halfway when I leaned down, his mouth warm and slick, and everything that made kissing him perfect every single time. It was tempting to tear his clothes off and go straight for the gold, but there was no reason to rush. The words were out, and we knew where we stood. Instead, I kissed him deep and lingering, allowing the heat to build between us from the slow simmer the paella had to cook at, to an increasing intensity as we eventually moved down the hall, tangled up in each other’s arms as we kissed and touched, discarding our clothing as we went.

My shirt hit the floor after Ben scooted it up past my ribs, leaving little lines of fire behind as he dragged his blunt nails up along my skin as it became exposed. My belt buckle jingled as I undid it, then broke the kiss just long enough to get my jeans down and abandon them and the rest of my clothing to the floor. I kicked the mound of fabric away unceremoniously as Ben took initiative and kept up with me by undressing himself. By the time we reached the bedroom the only thing beneath our bare skin was the air.

Ben made a choked sound of surprise that dissolved into a pleasurable purr as I got my hands beneath the curve of his ass and lifted him into my arms so I could walk us back to his bed and lower us to the plush mattress that felt more familiar to me now than the one in Sofia’s guestroom.

“Let’s add being reminded just how strong you are to the ever-growing list of things that I find hot about you,” he said.

We grinned at each other like two fools before I curled my hand around the nape of his neck to bring his lips back to mine. Even after all the times we'd been together, I doubted there’d ever come a day when I was tired of heat or flavor of Ben's mouth.

A light tap to my hip indicated he wanted me to roll over onto my back. After stealing one last deep kiss that I hoped curled his damn toes, I reluctantly pulled back from the kiss to flip our positions. Ben grinned down at me, giving me the cheesiest possible smile, and a thumbs up before he scooted lower on the bed, leisurely mapping himself a scenic tour of my personal landscape that paused at all the spots he found interesting.

When his teeth closed around my nipple, tugging it out until I hissed, I sank my hands into his hair to encourage him to keep going because it hurt in the best possible way. Unfortunately, the silky strands of his hair slid right through my fingers when Ben kept moving on. His tongue swirled around my navel, tickling as it teased the edges, then dipped inside it briefly, just to make me chuckle. His own laughter warmed the lower skin of my abdomen as he kept moving down lower, slowing his descent until every hair on my body stood on end in anticipation. When the warm tunnel of his mouth finally closed around my cock, I groaned his name.

Ben kept my dick captive as he swirled figure eight patterns into my skin. I closed my eyes when my brain started to overload from the visual stimulation. My hands clenched into fists in the sheets, twisting them into knots as my orgasm started to build faster than I’d expected. Maybe it was finally confessing how I felt about him that had unleashed the last burdening rock that I’d put in my own way years ago when I’d decided I didn’t deserve this kind of love that was easy and passionate all at the same time, but whatever the reason was, I felt loose and free and was just a few good sucks from coming down Ben’s throat.

Fortunately, Ben had learned to read my body's responses by now, and he pulled back just before I popped. His cock left a damp trail of promise along my abdomen when he slid back up my body with a smile that warmed the parts of my soul I’d thought years of doing things that still gave me nightmares, had burnt out completely.

Ben said I was his hero, but he was the one who’d saved me.

"What are you in the mood for tonight?"

"You?" I said helpfully. "In me. Like now would be awesome."

I turned into the warmth of Ben's free hand when he stroked it down the side of my face, sucking his index and middle fingers into my mouth. I wrapped my tongue around them, then licked and sucked, imitating what he’d done to my cock. I grinned when the torture proved too much for him, just like it’d been almost too much for me. Ben hummed low when he pulled his damp fingertips free to trail them across my lips.

"Your mouth should be registered as a lethal weapon."

"We'll have to sign up the same day."

Horny inspiration struck me as Ben's laugh rumbled against my chest. As much as I wanted him to peel me apart, my brain overpowered my dick, deciding that now was the perfect time to enforce "the do unto others" dogma. Ben's protests when I rolled us and slid down his body, quickly became a newfound ability to speak in tongues when he felt the first stroke of mine along the thick length of his dick.

Ben’s accent swallowed up syllables when I licked around his flared head, then stroked the flat of my tongue firmly along the underside of his cock all the way down to the soft, curly thatch of hair at its base. That lick was followed by a second, then a third- all good things were supposed to come in threes after all, and I was a stickler for rules. The moment I finished my last pass downward, I stopped completely and braced one arm casually but firmly across Ben’s lower abdomen to keep his hips still so I could keep toying with him.

He struggled in protest and his moans tormented me with 3D fantasies about straddling his body and turning his cock into my own personal plaything. It was so tempting, but that would've meant I'd have to stop sucking him and I didn't want to relinquish my prize just yet. His skin alone—warm velvet over the steel strength of his shaft— was something to savor. It was a warm study in taste and texture that gave me power over every groan and plea Ben made.

His thighs trembled as I slowly licked away the pearly beading at his tip that tasted of ocean brine. It had a heart of subtle spice, almost like the cinnamon mints Ben loved so much, had absorbed into his pores. I could’ve kept this going for hours, might’ve even tried if I’d had a proper pair of leather handcuffs to restrain him to the bed. He made that wise crack about wearing a collar once, back when we first met. One of these days I’d have to ask him if he had actual cuffs from his days when he’d worked as an escort. We’d make new memories with them. Hell, he could tie me up if he wanted to. Turnabout was fair play.

"Sam, baby...please..." Ben's desperation was the sweetest possible sound to my ears. I finally pulled away and climbed up his body so I could spread out over him like a blanket made of heat and need.

Ben’s hands curled tightly around the base of my neck immediately, like he was afraid I'd pull away and resume my torture. I dropped down a little closer, supporting my weight easily with my hands by sinking them into the sheets on either side of Ben’s hips. I was never more thankful than I was now, that I'd kept up my habit of doing a shitload of push-ups every morning—including ones on my knuckles—even after leaving the military.

We stayed that way for a while, exchanging long, languid kisses. We seemed to be on the same page of just needing that simple physical connection. Eventually the kisses got more heated and though I hated to stop, I needed to get my hands on the lube that we’d started keeping in his nightstand drawer for ease, instead of the headboard compartment. I'd thrown out the condoms that used to be in there after we’d decided to lose the latex, needing that level of finality to close the door on the idea of ever being with anyone else other than Ben. I also secretly thought that Ben’s possessive side got off on that visual of me taking all barriers down between us.

Ben's hand curled around my wrist to take the bottle out of my hand. When I cocked a brow in silent question, he pushed my hand down between his thigs and along his crease so that I could feel how slick and open he already was. I blinked and he grinned, nipping my lower lip.

"Immaculate intervention...also known as prepping myself before you even got here. I knew what I wanted."

Ben's tongue made a warm, gentle circle below my ear, then dipped lower to whisk across the pulse in my throat that jumped when he bit down. He sucked the skin into his mouth with just enough force to bruise, and I moaned his name.

"I want you inside me tonight, just like you were last night. You were in so deep, I could practically feel you against my spine, Sam.” Ben’s teeth nipped the lobe of my ear. “Your cock’s the perfect size to fill me up completely… just this side of too much, until it’s not enough at all… Do you think I'll make you lose it again, or will you have enough focus and control this time to break me first?"

Ben's eyes glittered when he issued the challenge and locked his thighs around my hips to trap my body where he wanted it. Insistent, confident hands slid down my sides to settle on the curve of my ass. He squeezed my cheeks, massaging the flesh to promise a much happier ending than any I could find at a high-priced massage parlor if I gave him what he wanted..

"My money's on door number one, but either way, you're taking me hard and deep because it's what I want. Right. Now."

His hips tilted up in invitation and the slick smear across Ben’s inner thigh came from my leaking tip, not the lube. My skin prickled with heated awareness that started at my cock, then spread out to every nerve ending in my body to make sure it knew that I'd just been topped from the bottom.

Gooseflesh broke out over my body as I shuddered. “Baby, we have all night. We can take it slow.”

“We could, but it’s not what I asked for, is it?”

I could hear the tease in his tone, but I heard the desire too. "Come on, Sam. Don't make me beg."

It was a safe bet that he wouldn't be the one who ended up begging, but after dipping two fingers, then three, deep inside him slowly, working them in and out a few times to make sure he was loose enough to take me, I finally did as I was told.

Angling my body between his thighs, I pushed in slowly, inch by inch at a snail’s pace despite his pleading urgency for me to move faster. I didn’t want to hurt him by rushing this, knowing there was always a subtle burn during penetrative sex no matter how well you were prepped, but Ben didn't seem to care. He pushed back against me firmly, determined to get his way. I groaned when his body finally sucked mine in balls deep just like it did every time that I was inside him.

My eyes almost crossed when he clenched down, rolling his hips up to hit the spot he wanted. I never needed to wonder if I’d found Ben’s prostate when I was fucking him. The back arching jolt that went through his entire body every single time, was my personal metric.

"Right there, Sam," he groaned. "Just like that."

Between the evidence of his teeth in my skin, and the long, stinging lines on my back from his nails, I was going to end up looking like I'd fought with a cat and lost. But it was a small price to pay for the pleasure of watching Ben’s teeth sink into his lower lip hard enough to leave their imprint behind. I could feel the subtle raised pattern when I kissed him, savoring his mouth to protect it. He bit me instead, making me laugh when I drew out slowly just to hear him beg. His body arched beneath mine in frustration when I pinned his hands down on either side of his body.

I gave him what he wanted, but at my pace—sinking in deep and blind. A part of me wanted to roll him over onto his hands and knees so I could take him from behind. Not for any playful power play, but for the sheer visual thrill of spreading his cheeks and watching the head of my cock be swallowed up by his tight ring on every inward thrust as I fucked him slow and easy. Of course, the erotic visual probably shorted out what was left of my working brain synapses, so I kept working with our current situation.

When I pulled back, the ridge of my cockhead teased Ben’s clenching entrance before I plunged deep again until I bottomed out. I repeated that cycle until his hips were grinding against my body, trying to get me even farther inside. I deliberately avoided hitting his prostate on every stroke, wanting to prolong his pleasure as well as mine, but each time I gave into temptation and slammed into that spot, his entire body reacted like he'd been electrocuted.

A million sensations overwhelmed me, my hands wanting to be in twenty places at once. Metallic flavor filled my mouth when I bit my tongue hard so that small pain could focus my mind on something other than the pleasure that was threatening to break me.

Pressing my face against his shoulder, I breathed in the musky sweetness of Ben’s skin and tried to calm down—not an easy task when Ben was moving beneath me, clenching and unclenching his inner muscles with that expertise that always made me want to kill everyone he'd ever practiced on to hone that particular skill.

I kissed him hard to distract myself, but it proved to be a mistake. Ben's mouth was an erotic playground—as exhilarating as that first time that you went so high on the swings, you were sure that you'd clear the tree line, and fly with the birds.

"Samuel..." Ben's voice held both warning and praise when I relinquished my claim on his mouth just so I could hear the vocal litany I used as my guide to getting him closer to popping, and myself to earning bragging rights.

I was playing a dangerous game because every time I fulfilled one of his erotic petitions, it came back at me like a boomerang, making me want to give him more. To give him everything.

The room spun around me as I started to lose control. A tingling began low in my balls when I rocked forward, feeling Ben’s inner muscles tighten like a velvet vise around me as he got closer to that edge that we were both trying to get each other over.

I broke from Ben’s mouth so I could get to a kneeling position with his legs braced on my shoulders. I pressed a kiss into the soft skin of his left inner thigh before I curled my fingers hard into his hips for traction and I gave him everything he was asking me for. I bottomed out hard on every on every stroke so there was nowhere left for me to go, but that didn't mean we stopped trying to get more of this connection that had me trembling, and Ben's body straining as he wrapped his hands around the spindles of the headboard like he was trying to physically hold back his orgasm.

I felt my mouth go dry as Ben’s eyes closed, and his lips parted enough for him to whisper my name. I knew he was waiting for me to surrender first, but I stubbornly held out until his eyes opened again and locked on mine. His left hand let go of the headboard and reached for mine, immediately lacing our fingers together to rest them against his chest. He leaned up to kiss me, and the hand not holding mine curled around the back of my neck to brace me there. He moaned my name against my lips again, but his winning play was the two words that followed.

"Te amo."

God yes.

“I love you.” I knew my words had my desired effect when Ben called out my name as his ass clenched hard around my dick, the sticky heat of his spunk splattering both his skin and mine, so the thick white trails trickled down my chest like pure, molten pleasure that pooled in his lower abdomen.

Visual proof that he was mine.

I shoved into him hard one last time, then let go. My release flooded Ben’s body and without a condom dulling the sensation, I got to feel every greedy inch of his body trying to hold onto the streams of my cum that would inevitably start sliding out of his ass, and down his thighs once I pulled out.

“Say it again.”

Ben rasped my name out on a moan, then did me one better than I’d asked for. “I love you, Sam. Te amo. You’re it for me. Te quiero. Te ador. Te amo. Eres mío, ahora y siempre.”

His confession sucked my heart out of my chest, then slammed it back in so hard I lost the struggle to hold myself up with arms that’d suddenly turned gelatinous. The decision of whether to collapse right on top of Ben, or roll away to keep from crushing him, was taken out of my hands. My heart was racing, but his didn't feel any steadier when his arm locked around my waist to drag me flatter against his chest. He kissed me hard and his ankle curled up high on the back of my thigh to hold me there.

The way that Ben devoured my mouth made it clear that he wouldn't disregard the fact I'd begged him to say he loved me a second time without any prompting. He couldn't repeat the sentiment while he claimed my lips and tongue as his, but he fed the emotion of his words back to me with a fervor that put our earlier passion to shame.

Every press of his lips, each stroke of his hands that aligned our bodies perfectly, demanded I submit to the emotional wave that might just drown us both.

When he finally allowed his head to loll back against the pillows, I tucked mine beneath his chin.

"If my family ever stops being stupid, I do want you to meet them Sam,” Ben murmured.

I couldn't see his expression, but I felt him relax when he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“I know baby. And by then, you’ll be wearing the ring that makes it count.”

I heard him chuckle softly as I closed my eyes. We were sticky, hot, smelled like sex, and needed to get up at some point to turn the damn stove off, but Ben loved me, and I loved him back. That was the only thing that really mattered right now.

Smiling slightly, I preased back against him as I murmured, "Set an alarm on your phone for the damn paella. We dont need the fire department breaking down the door."

Ben's soft chuckle and the gentle drag of his fingers through my sweat dampened hair, lulled me into sleep. Dinner could wait.