Page 63 of Cosy & Chill
Seeing and Believing
Finn didn’t stir when Leo returned from the bathroom, showered, shaved, and dressed for the day. He lay on his side, with one hand tucked under his chin and his curls obscuring his face. The protective position forced a lump into Leo’s throat. In only a few weeks he’d fallen hard and fast for Finn and he felt the urge to wrap him up and protect him from hurt.
He’d always hidden his own worries behind defiance and a brash manner. Which hadn’t protected him any better than his quiet stubbornness would protect Finn if they failed to make this work. This store was Finn’s dream, and there were few things more painful than watching a dream die.
Leo closed the bedroom door and headed downstairs to see about coffee and breakfast. He’d wondered what it would be like to share his life with another man, but nothing in his past had prepared him for what he now shared with Finn.
This wasn’t the simple desire he remembered from his nights out. He didn’t just want to drag Finn to bed. He wanted much more, wanted what they already had. Breakfast in the morning. Dinner at night. Texts and phone calls during the day, batting questions back and forth.
He didn’t want to lose the life he’d just found, even as he was afraid that he’d mess everything up. Or that Finn—the sweetest thing that had ever come his way—would grow bored with him and leave.
Don’t be an idiot,he admonished himself and reached for the frying pan.He won’t leave Cosy & Chill. He’s just as stubborn as you.
He started the coffeemaker and loaded the toaster. Then he laid bacon strips on the griddle, and assembled eggs, chilli flakes, and salt on the counter beside the stove.
It wasn’t until he reached into the drawer that he noticed his spatula had miraculously returned.
And that it sparkled.
The smell of burning bacon brought Finn down the stairs in double time. “Leo? What’s the matter? Leo!”
Leo stared at the spatula, which trembled in his grasp, while the bacon drifted past extra-crispy and into charcoal territory. Finn reached around him to turn off the stove. “Leo, talk to me.”
“I’m losing the plot.”
Leo’s voice was so soft, Finn struggled to hear him. He still held the spatula, and when Finn took it from his fingers a sudden shock zinged up his arm. “What the fuck?”
“You too? That makes me feel a bit better.”
Finn threw the spatula into the sink. He wrapped his arms around Leo, glad when Leo hugged him back. “Go sit,” he suggested when he’d assured himself that Leo wasn’t hurt. “Let’s forget about bacon and scrambled eggs. I’ll make more toast.” He heard his own voice, strangely calm when part of him wanted to scream, and knew that he’d reached the edge of what he was willing to ignore for the sake of having Cosy & Chill.
He’d put up with Roisin’s invisible decorating sessions and had tried not to worry too much about expensive antique furniture appearing all over the house. He’d even let himself enjoy the huge bed she’d found for them. But sparkling utensils and a frightened Leo… that was above and beyond.
“Maybe you should dress while I see to breakfast,” Leo said before Finn could start a fight with an absent woman. “Not that you’re not decorative, but you’re—”
Making breakfast in my birthday suit.Finn kept his chin up. “See if I come and rescue you next time,” he said, and disappeared upstairs.
He was back five minutes later, dressed and smelling of toothpaste and mouthwash.
“You really just rolled out of bed and raced downstairs, didn’t you?” Leo handed him a mug of coffee.
“I smelled smoke.”
“Ah, yes. I’m afraid I incinerated the bacon. Sparkling utensils are distracting.”
Finn peeked into the sink. The spatula hadn’t vanished yet. Neither had it stopped sparkling. “We need to talk to Roisin.”
“Agreed. It’s bad enough when the utensils disappear. Making them sparkle is just…”
As if their irate thoughts had drawn her, the back door banged open and voices drifted upstairs.
Finn looked at Leo. “Grab her before she disappears again?”
“Definitely. Breakfast can wait.”
They found Roisin in the store, directing two removal men as they heaved a sofa, three armchairs, and a couple of small coffee tables into place. The new furniture wasn’t identical to the sofa and armchairs Leo’s grandma had left him, but the style and colours matched, and their store appeared one step closer to welcoming customers.
“What’d ye think?” Roisin spun in place, checking the new additions from all angles. “As close to perfect as I could get it.”
