Page 79 of Cohesion

“My shoulder’s fine,” Peyton said. He unclipped his seat belt and shifted across, hovering over Will. He kissed him softly, once, twice, before settling his lips more firmly. Will brushed Peyton’s hair from his face and cupped his cheek as he opened, letting Peyton’s tongue in to glide against his own. He hadn’t expected a surprise lolly so soon, but he wasn’t about to say no. “Should I drag you in the back and prove it to you?”

“I don’t think Kellan will appreciate you putting on a show for his customers.”

Peyton smiled against Will’s mouth. “Maybe it will get him more business. A missed opportunity.”

“Pretty sure he does just fine,” Will murmured. Kellan hiring more people was always a topic of conversation at Sinclair dinners. That’d be counterproductive if he didn’t have enough work for just one person.

Peyton gave him one last kiss, scrambled out of the car, and disappeared inside.

Will took a second to get himself under control before he followed. He didn’t really want to walk into the place with a hard-on.

He found Peyton and Kellan standing beside Peyton’s blood red BMW R 1250 GS motorcycle. Kellan was in jeans and a T-shirt smeared with oil in marks resembling sliding handprints. His hair, as usual, was sticking up like he’d been electrocuted. It looked like that even after he’d had a shower. It had magic standing-up powers and wouldn’t sit flat, no matter what he did with it. Will still thought he was a secret superhero and was hiding it from them. He and Riley were the oldest Sinclair brothers, and Will didn’t think there was anything the two of themcouldn’tdo, especially when they joined forces as they so often did.

Next to them was their mother, Theresa.

Standing next to her, it was easy to see where Peyton got the best of his features. His delicate jawline. The height—they were the same, with Kellan towering over them both. Their hair was the same messy blond, Theresa’s a little longer and up in a messy bun. Those lashes. That smile. They couldn’t be mistaken for anything but mother and son. The only difference was their eyes. Theresa had bright green eyes that her sons Danny and Kellan had inherited. Peyton had his father’s eyes.

Will hadn’t known that she’d be there too. An unexpected pleasure.

“Mum Sinclair,” Will said happily.

Her eyes lit up when she spotted Will, and she opened her arms wide. Will went straight into them, hugging her tight and lifting her off the floor.

“Have you gotten taller?” she asked, peering suspiciously at him.

“No?” Will straightened and pressed a hand to the top of his head. “Do you think so? Should we measure?”

Peyton snorted. “Don’t listen to her pretty lies.”

“I have some homemade lasagne in the fridge,” she said. “You should take some with you.”

“I thought that was for me!” Kellan protested.

“I made enough for you to share,” Theresa said, waving her hand dismissively.

“You didn’t even know Will was going to be here.”

“You have to share,” Will mouthed at him, grinning.

Kellan’s mouth twitched. Whether he was stopping himself from scowling or smiling, Will had no idea. He didn’t care. He wasn’t giving up Theresa’s homemade lasagne for anything. All was fair in love and food.

“What about me?” Peyton asked. “You weren’t going to give me any?”

“You don’t need any; you have Will.”

“That makes no sense,” Peyton said. He tugged Will closer and folded him in his arms, head peeking out from under Will’s arm. Will shifted so that Peyton was in front of him instead. Being this tall—and Peyton being so much shorter—he had to be conscious of what positions they could hold each other without straining anything or twisting funny.

“It makes perfect sense,” Theresa said primly.

“It doesn’t.”

“Are you arguing with me?”

“… no?”

Will searched Peyton’s pockets for a hair tie, but they were empty. He pulled one out of his own pocket instead—always kept there for Peyton emergencies. He used his fingers as a brush, pulling Peyton’s hair together.

“You haven’t been out for dinner in a few weeks,” Theresa said. “You don’t like my food anymore?”

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