Page 71 of Outside the Lines
She nodded.
“You need Simon right now. And I need you both well.” He shrugged. “Call me selfish.”
Tears welled in Lydia’s eyes and she scrubbed at them. “Fuck. You’re making me cry. And you’re the least selfish guy I know, Ian.”
“Thank you.” Color on his cheeks. He pushed himself off the doorframe and strode to the bed. “I’m still convinced we’ll figure this out.” He brushed Lydia’s hair off her forehead and pressed a quick kiss there. “You’ll see.”
He had the confidence I lacked. Without Lydia outing herself, there was no way to stop the thief. I held out my hand to Ian. He took it, and bent down to kiss me—a gentle one on the lips. “You two get some sleep.”
Ian’s smile was lovely, heartening, and warm, and we both watched him blow us a collective kiss before he slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
When the latch clicked, Lydia breathed out. “How did he end up in our lives, Si? We totally don’t deserve him.”
“I have no idea. But I hope to God we can keep him with us. I can’t imagine a future without him.”
Same thing had happened with me and Lydia. Now it was happening with Ian—for both of us.
I woke to only Larry Purrbutt as a companion, which wasn’t that unusual. Lydia said I could sleep through a ferry horn going off next to my head. She often got up before me, got dressed, and made coffee. What wasn’t usual were the soft strains of conversation floating up from downstairs. Lydia’s sweet voice coupled with Ian’s deeper one.
Our fluffy kitty padded across the bed and flopped down for scritchies, and I indulged, enjoying the sounds of my lovers talking.
I had to be the luckiest man alive.Hadto be. Still couldn’t wrap my head around Ian, his agreeing to a relationship, and how quickly and easily he’d slipped into our lives, especially to support Lydia. If only there’d been a better, less heartbreaking reason for his understanding. But I’d take this, especially since it only highlighted the type of man Ian was, now that we were all on the same page.
I checked the clock and groaned. A few minutes before seven.How the heck do they get up this early? I pushed myself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Shop opened at ten and both Lydia and I were scheduled to work, me in the morning, and her in the evening. But dollars to donuts she’d be catching up on her freelance work. The whole stolen-art situation had slowed her down something awful, which I understood, but deadlines were far less forgiving.
A half hour later, I made my way downstairs and was greeted by two smiles. My heart did one of those little flips you read about in books. Lydia was relaxed for the first time in days, her eyes no longer red and the lines of worry that had been there were nearly gone. I’d done that. But so had Ian. “Hi, guys.”
“Hey there, sleepy head,” she said.
Ian chuckled and sipped his coffee.
“Hey there yourself.” I leaned in and claimed a kiss from her, then another from Ian that tasted of coffee and milk.
His cheeks were ruddy.
I couldn’t tell if his expression was surprise or gratitude, only that he, too, was happy. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I always do here.”
Lydia bumped him on the shoulder. “You know you’re welcome any time.”
“I—yeah?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree.Thatexpression was gratitude.
One of the great things about being married for ten years is that Lydia and I had developed a way of communicating without speaking. I raised my eyebrow and tilted my head.May I?
Her smirk and tiny nod were the reply.
“In fact . . .” On my route to the coffee pot, I pulled a set of spare keys off a hook on the wall. “Catch.” I threw them to Ian, who deftly snatched them out of the air.
Then I poured myself a cup of coffee, leaned back against the counter, and watched as he stared at the keys in his hands. So many emotions played over his face that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His shoulders eased down when he finally met my gaze, and his eyes were a little too shiny. “Thank you. You have no idea—” His voice cracked and he shook his head.
I had some idea. So did Lydia, who leaned her head on his shoulder. “We mean it.”
A faint, but joyful smile from Ian. “I know.”
I took a long sip of coffee. Perfect. Almost everything was perfect.
We only needed to fix the part that wasn’t.
