Page 34 of Hold my Reins

Lynck gave him a round of applause as though he’d finished playing a masterpiece.

Rox shook his head. “That was scales, not music.”

“It was music.” Lynck stood, stretched, and walked over.

“You should’ve told me you were done.”

“But you weren’t, and I am happy to wait. I have nowhere to rush off to, and this is important to you. Plus, I enjoyed it.”

“You enjoyed me playing scales?”

“It’s been a long time since I listened to someone else create music. If all you want to do is play scales, then I will gladly play with you.”

“Are your scales the same?”

“No, but I have learned yours.”

Rox lifted his eyebrows. “By listening?”

“Yes, but not by listening to you. Humans feel the need to learn scales, so I needed to learn to teach them. Though it was not how I learned to play as a child... Music is not written in a herd; it is felt in the heart.”

Rox gave him a small smile. Even though sitting at the piano hurt, the act of playing was soothing. His heart ached less. “Does that mean you will bring your violin next time?”

“I can do that. Would you like to go for a walk, or do you have chores to do?”

“I did all my laundry and food shopping yesterday afternoon, so I have time for a walk. Do you need to get anything done? We can do it together.” Going food shopping with Lynck might be fun.

He wanted to ask if he thought any more about coming round to the repair shop and cutting the necklace off, but Lynck knew the offer was there. And while Rox had been confident while lying in bed—anything was possible in bed and naked with his lover—the reality was neither of them knew if the bridle could be broken with power tools.

“I have some time off tomorrow, which is when I’ll run errands. I’d much rather go to the lake with you.” Lynck offered his hand.

Rox accepted and let himself be pulled to his feet. “Are you doing some kelpie flirting?”

“You know I am…though we don’t need to do any running or swimming.”

“When the weather warms up, I might swim.” He hadn’t swum in what felt like forever, but it was probably only three years. Now that he lived by a lake, there was no excuse not to make use of it. It wasn’t as though he needed to pay to use a pool.

Lynck laughed. “Come on, Thursten told me to take the leftover sandwiches.”

His heart gave a jump. “A walk and a picnic?”

“Unless you have other dinner plans?”

Sitting in the motel room with a microwave dinner couldn’t compete. “I’m not going to turn down free food and a lakeside walk.”

It was more than that, though. It was the way Lynck looked at him and the way he could be himself. He was enough in a way he’d never expected to find.

If he’d known his ideal boyfriend was a monster, he wouldn’t have wasted six months driving around aimlessly. Except he’d needed that time to find himself because the man he’d been six months ago hadn’t known who he was or what he wanted.

He rolled up onto his toes and kissed Lynck, then brushed his nose against his for good measure.

“What was that for?” Lynck gazed at him.

“For being you.” For letting him be him.

sixteen

Lynck tightened the bow, readying to play. Rox had come in every night he was closing and sat at the piano. Sometimes, he’d start a song and then stop as if continuing was too much. After, they’d go for a walk by the lake and eat the leftovers that couldn’t be sold the next day. While he wanted to run and swim and do other kelpie things with his human boyfriend, what they had worked for them.

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