Page 115 of Our Own Light

Josephine grinned—a big, toothy smile; one that was made even better by the fact that she was missing one of her front two teeth—and then proceeded to run over to Effie so that she could beg her mama to come see it, too. When Oliver stood back up, Floyd put his hands on Oliver’s waist, pulling him close.

“Are you preparing Jo for college or something?”

Oliver shrugged. “Not intentionally, though I’d certainly pay for her tuition.”

“Ain’t that a little strange considering the fact that you never even finished college yourself?”

“Oh, Josephine’s more focused than I ever was.”

Floyd clicked his tongue. “Yeah, she’s something special.”

“Agreed.”

Whistling, Floyd looked around the kitchen. “Can you believe we own this? It’s even bigger than the farmhouse my parents had.”

“And we’ll fill it with books and music and—”

“Music? What, my banjo?”

“Sweetheart, I’m buying us a phonograph. And I’m buying myself a piano because I refuse to let you be the only musician in this house. Don’t try to argue with me about it.”

“I won’t. I want to hear you play,” Floyd said. “Heck, I’m excited for it.”

“Soon the two of us will be playing music together,” Oliver said before leaning forward for a soft kiss. As soon as they parted, Oliver reached into his pocket. He had thought he’d hold the surprise until later that evening, but he now realized he couldn’t hold off that long. Hell, he couldn’t even stand to wait one more minute. “I have something for you. Close your eyes.” Floyd only sort of closed them. “Sweetheart, I can see you peeking through those pretty lashes of yours. Close them properly, please.”

Floyd snickered. “Dang.”

One moment later, Oliver held out his hand.

“Ready.”

As soon as Floyd opened his eyes and saw the coin in Oliver’s hand, his face fell, which was pretty much the exact opposite of the reaction Oliver was trying for. Oliver started to pull his hand away, but Floyd reached out and caught his wrist.

“Is that . . .”

“It is.” Oliver nodded, still unsure whether or not Floyd was happy about the present.

As Floyd took the coin out of Oliver’s palm, his expression stayed unreadable—his eyes wide with surprise, but his lips a hard line.

“Ollie...” he whispered, studying the coin. When Floyd looked up to meet Oliver’s eyes, his baby blues were shimmering with tears, but Oliver couldn’t yet tell whether they were happy tears or sad ones. “Why?”

“I couldn’t let you have the Ollie coin without the Matt coin. You need both.”

When Floyd looked back at the coin, still not yet smiling or otherwise looking pleased, Oliver’s stomach twisted and tightened, making him wonder whether Matt might be upset with him. Perhaps it hadn’t been his place to retrieve the coin. Swallowing his shame, Oliver opened his mouth to apologize, but then, before he could, Floyd hooked a hand behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss, one so passionate and fierce that Oliver could barely breathe.

When Floyd broke away, he said, “Sorry I keep nearly kissing you to death.”

“Does this mean you like the present?”

Floyd tipped their foreheads together. “I love it.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” Floyd said, now smiling madly.

“Are you sure? You barely looked happy before.”

“I was too touched, is all. I can’t believe you found this.”

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