Love Him Free: Book One of On The Market

by Lindsey, E. M.

  “Hey. Simon?”

  Simon offered a sheepish smile. “Is Collin home?”

  Max chuckled, shaking his head as he swung the door wider. “Yes, he is. Do you want to come in?”

  “I,” Simon started, but Collin appeared just then, setting a hand on Max’s shoulder.

  “You look like you could do with a walk. I need to check the paddock gates anyway. Want to come along?” Collin’s soft English accent was soothing to Simon’s frayed nerves, and he let out a grateful sigh as he nodded.

  “Yes, thanks. Sorry, Max. I’m…I don’t mean to be rude.”

  Max waved him off. “It’s fine. You boys play nice.”

  Collin leaned in and kissed his cheek, whispering something into Max’s ear that made him blush. Simon didn’t ask—didn’t want to know. He hated intruding, but he did like knowing that his currently one and only friend in Cherry Creek was happy.

  Collin took off ahead of him, and though they had flood lights, he struggled to keep up in the dark. The paddock wasn’t far though, and Simon managed not to fall on his face as they reached the fence, and two of the smaller kids came running up, excited for the attention.

  “You alright, mate?” Collin asked after a bit.

  Simon loved how Collin knew that he needed time to gather his thoughts. He’d never been impulsive, though right then was the closest he’d ever felt to it. “I think I’m seeing someone.”

  Collin chuckled. “Deaf bloke, eh? The one staying at the Lodge?”

  Simon was glad the dim light hid his blush. “His name is Rocco. Uh…you might know who he is. I guess he’s kind of famous in some circles.”

  Collin turned to him, and Simon could just make out a frown on his face. “He some sort of…YouTuber or something? Spencer’s been obsessed with them lately—make up and things. I honestly can’t stand the lot of it.”

  Simon laughed with some relief. He knew that enough people were aware of who Rocco was and what he did—and it was nice to have a clean slate with Collin. “Uh. No, not…he’s.” Simon stopped and cleared his throat. “Is there somewhere to sit?”

  Collin’s face grew more concerned, but he reached down and flipped the latch on the paddock before beckoning him inside. They made their way to the barn before Collin froze and narrowed his eyes at Simon. “You’re not allergic are you? To cats or goat or duck?”

  Simon laughed until he realized Collin was serious. “No. No allergies.”

  “You sure? We had a bit of an issue few weeks back with Spencer’s mate—got carted off to hospital and I’m not looking for a repeat.”

  Simon reached out and squeezed Collin’s shoulder. “Just grass and pollen like the rest of the world, I promise.”

  Collin seemed a bit dubious at first, but eventually swung the barn door open and led the way inside. It smelled of animal and hay, and though it was probably offensive to some, Simon found it oddly comforting. It was warm in there, and a bit humid, and there were benches along the wall which Collin dragged out.

  The goats were happy to bounce around their feet, but after a few pets, they got bored of Simon and hurried off as the pair took seats. “It’s nice in here.”

  Collin gave him a look. “Why do I feel like you didn’t come to talk about the interior décor of a goat barn?”

  Simon laughed, but it was strained. “My bakery is going to close.”

  Collin blinked in surprise, then sat back. “On purpose?”

  Biting the inside of his cheek, Simon fought back a fresh wave of grief and anxiety as he shook his head. “Not…really? It’s been hemorrhaging money for…years, really. I was making ends meet—mostly—when I first took over, but each year just got worse. When Levi got the contract with the Lodge, it helped a little, but we’re not breaking even anymore.”

  Collin’s brow dipped into a deep frown. “How’d he get that food truck then, eh?”

  “I bought it for him,” Simon said quietly. “I took out a loan. It covered all of what we owed to vendors and taxes, and it let me hire Kyle for a bit. But…it’s not…I don’t have enough for my first payment.”

  Collin swallowed. “Mate, I can lend you money. If you need…”

  “No,” Simon said, a little harsh, though he didn’t mean to. Dragging a hand down his face, he took a breath. “No, I mean, that’s not going to help. One month, two months—even six. It’s not going to matter. I can’t keep this up. It was on the verge of failing when Bubbe got sick, and I didn’t have the skill to resuscitate it. This was just…borrowed time.”

  Collin looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry.”

  With a shrug, Simon leaned forward over his thighs and steeled himself for the rest. “Rocco had an idea. It’s…I don’t want to give you details. But it could work. Not to save the bakery, but to pay off the loan. It’ll be enough that I can walk away and not worry.”

  “Is it illegal?” Collin pressed.

  Simon laughed and rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling. “No. It’s not illegal, but it does…maybe cross some lines that I’m not sure I’m ready to cross.”

  “Is it a religious thing?” Collin asked.

  At that, Simon’s lip curled up in a half-smile. “No. I mean, maybe? In all honesty, Judaism is so diverse, it’s impossible to say yes or no. It’s not the same as other faiths.”

  “I get that,” Collin said with a smile.

  “Mine’s more personal.” Simon paused. “It’s something I’ve been avoiding for years, and Rocco makes me want to branch out and…I don’t know, find freedom? Not be so damn strict with myself?”

  “Is it because of him, or because it’s something you want for you?” Collin asked.

  Simon loved that about his friend—loved that he’d find the nuance in what Simon was struggling with. “Both? I want it for both reasons. I’m lonely.”

  Collin made a soft noise and shifted a little closer. “You have people who love you, you know.”

  “I do,” Simon admitted softly. “I do know that. I’m starting to accept it, and I’m trying.”

  Collin set a hand on his shoulder. “I know.”

  Simon remained silent a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’m scared if I abandon everything I know, more things will fall apart. I’m scared Levi will get hurt or…” He swallowed past a lump in his throat. “He’s all I’ve got left.”

  “Simon…”

  “I know it’s irrational. I knew years ago when I was practically on my knees begging Hashem to keep Levi safe that it was irrational. But I’ve been doing this for so fucking long now, I don’t know how to stop.” He only realized his hands were in fists when his knuckles began to ache, and he forced himself to uncurl his fingers. “I probably need a therapist. And…and I need to trust that Levi can take care of himself. He’s done well so far.”

  “He seems happy. And therapy is good. I had a good one after my divorce. I didn’t go long—just enough time to get my head back on straight.”

  Simon glanced over and saw actual kindness in Collin’s eyes—not pity. “I’m afraid once Rocco knows what an actual mess I am, he’ll end things. Which is stupid. I barely know him.”

  Collin laughed and shook his head, hanging his hands between his knees as he leaned forward and looked at Simon. “I fell in love over a two-day river rafting excursion where two men were trapped in my cabin when a storm hit.”

  Simon’s eyes widened. He knew the way Collin, Max, and Spencer had fallen in love was unconventional, but he hadn’t realized how unconventional. “Were they already together?”

  Collin laughed. “No. They were strangers who instantly hated each other—and then they didn’t. They burst into my life when I needed them the most. I was closing down my dad’s legacy, I was divorced, I had buried my father a year before that—I’d no idea what I wanted in life. All I had was a small parcel of land and a herd of goats.” Collin smiled wistfully. “I didn’t keep all the goats, or the land, but in exchange I got two men who I will love for the rest of my life.”
r />   “And a herd of cats,” Simon offered.

  Collin laughed, shaking his head. “And the sodding cats. And the duck, and our four bloody goats. And two men who love me back just as much as I love them. People will always tell you not to rush. They’ll tell you to be careful, that love at first sight doesn’t exist. They’ll tell you that there’s a correct way to fall for someone—but they’re not always right. Sometimes, mate, you really do know when you know.”

  Simon was warm all over, soft inside, and desperate for Rocco. Rocco had offered out his hand, and Simon wanted to take it. More than just for filming—though he didn’t know that he wanted to reject that idea either, but he needed more. He needed to know Rocco would be willing to give him something beyond those moments together on camera.

  “This helped,” Simon told him.

  Collin grinned widely. “Good.”

  “I should, um,” Simon nodded toward the door, and Collin rose, following him out and not saying anything until they reached his car.

  “Promise me you’ll be back. For proper dinner,” Collin ordered, and Simon laughed.

  “I will.”

  “No more hiding?” Collin pressed.

  Simon took Collin’s arm by the wrist and squeezed. “No more hiding. I’ll bring Rocco.”

  “I’ll look up some sign language videos,” Collin vowed.

  Simon grinned widely, then got in his car. Starting it this time, pulling onto the main road and heading back into town—it didn’t feel as awful. He had a few hours to sort this out, and he was ready.

  He pulled into the Lodge parking lot and parked his car next to Rocco’s sporty one, locking up before he glanced down at his phone. He wasn’t sure if he was breaking rules or not, but he needed this to be a surprise, so he let himself into the lobby and he came to a skidding halt when he found Levi and James behind the front desk.

  James’ eyes narrowed, but Levi’s went wide, and they both said nothing until Simon laid his hands on the counter and cleared his throat. “I need Rocco’s room number.”

  There was a gleam in Levi’s eyes that Simon didn’t entirely love, but he was done hiding. “James?” Levi asked over his shoulder.

  James was pink in the cheeks, and he looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. He tapped on the computer, then scribbled the number down on the post-it. “You had better not breathe a word to anyone about this. Especially not Charlie.”

  Simon put his hand over his heart. “I swear. And…thanks?”

  “Good luck, Si,” Levi called after him as he started to walk away. His heart was in his throat, but he was ready.

  It felt like an eternity before he was standing in front of the ground floor room. He could smell chlorine from somewhere, and he heard people talking a few doors down. He poised his fist to knock before he realized his mistake, then he pulled out his phone and opened his texts.

  Simon: I’m outside your door right now. I hope you’re home.

  A minute passed that felt like an eternity before the door swung wide, and Rocco was there—filling up all the spaces between them. His eyes were a little wary, a little nervous—but also a little hopeful. ‘Are you okay?’

  Simon bowed his head, breathed, then nodded. ‘I’m good. I’m more than good. I like you, Rocco.’

  Rocco’s expression went soft. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yes. And…I think I want to take you up on your offer.’

  Rocco beamed. ‘Okay.’

  Before Rocco could reach for him, Simon put up a hand. ‘I do have some conditions. Deal breakers. Can we talk about them?’

  Rocco stared—intense and captivating, then he put one hand at Simon’s waist and pulled. Simon’s feet moved without his permission, and the door slammed shut behind him like a benediction. It was over before he could even start to fight—and really, he didn’t mind. Rocco’s body was against him, eyes drinking him in like he hadn’t seen Simon in years.

  It was heady.

  It was addicting.

  Rocco leaned in, brushing a breath of a kiss to Simon’s jaw, then he stepped back, just out of reach. His long, thick fingers rose, and he signed with absolute purpose, ‘I’m ready to negotiate.’

  * * *

  ‘…and we can do this any way you want, but I’m glad you trust me. I’m glad you want to do this with me. It feels different with you. Better. Like…’

  “Simon!”

  Simon snapped back to reality, back to the bakery, to the kitchen with a ball of dough in his hands that was supposed to be bread but was hard as a rock. He glanced behind him at Kyle who looked more confused than annoyed that Simon had been off in his own little world.

  “Sorry, Kyle. You okay?” He swiped his hands on his apron, then grabbed the ball of dough and tossed it into the trash before turning to face his employee.

  “There’s someone here to see you,” Kyle said, thumbing over his shoulder.

  For a moment, Simon’s heart leapt, though he knew it couldn’t be Rocco. Or well, it shouldn’t be. Simon hadn’t stayed as long as he’d wanted in Rocco’s room, but they’d parted with a plan. Rocco was going to spend the day in search of a place he could rent that wouldn’t have the telltale signs of Simon’s apartment, or the bakery, or the only real hotel in the entire city on the video. If Simon was going to do this—if he was going to be brave enough to take a step outside of his tiny bubble—he wanted at least a little anonymity. Even if it didn’t last.

  “Who is it?”

  “Birdie—that fire department guy,” Kyle said with a shrug. He glanced at the baking table and the rest of the dough Simon had separated. “You want me to take over here?”

  Simon knew by the way Kyle’s face fell, he hadn’t hidden his grimace well enough. But his mind immediately went back to the last time he had let Kyle help—and the wasted batches of cookies that had been little more than charred lumps of coal.

  “Why don’t you take a lunch?” Simon moved to the sink to wash up, then glanced at the clock and breathed a sigh of relief to see it was almost noon. “I’ll handle the front for a bit.”

  Kyle looked like he wanted to argue, but at the resolute set of Simon’s jaw he shrugged and untied his apron. “It’s not busy anyway.”

  And when was it ever? Simon would wager Birdie wasn’t coming in to buy anything. Apart from bread for the Cherry Creek Lodge and the bagels for the fire house, they only occasionally had trickle-in business. Tourist season with the Market opening meant a few more customers than normal, but not enough.

  And he’d seen a drop now that Levi’s food truck was parking in various spots around town. Not that Simon could blame the people for wanting Levi’s bakes. They were better, and more diverse. They were trendy—like brie and bacon croissants. They were everything Simon wasn’t—and didn’t want to be.

  Drying his hands, Simon finally walked out to find the blacksmith bent over the glass display. When the door creaked, Birdie straightened and rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Hey.” He looked good in his CCFD shirt and jeans, his hair tousled by the wind, cheeks a little pink.

  Simon raised a brow. “Hi? Is there something I can help with? If you want one of those inappropriate cakes, that’s Levi’s business.”

  Birdie shook his head, even though he smiled at the mention. “No. I’m not here to buy anything.”

  Of course he wasn’t. Simon followed where Birdie’s eyes kept tracking—a row of almond crescent cookies—so he grabbed one and handed it over. “They’re actually not bad,” he insisted when Birdie hesitated.

  He was quiet as Birdie took the offering, then smiled a little when the blacksmith let out a groan. “Those are amazing.”

  “They’re my grandmother’s recipe. Bubbe was go big or go home with flavor,” Simon told him with a shrug. He leaned on the counter. “Is there something you wanted? If Fitz sent you about the market booth…”

  At that, Birdie’s face fell, and he shook his head. “No that’s not…” He stopped and let out a heavy breath. “I’m
here to say sorry for being such a colossal dick last night at the market.”

  Simon blinked at him for a moment. He’d expected a lot of things—most of them involving some sort of favor or baking order, but an apology? “What are you talking about?”

  “I upset you. What I said—I’m not sure why. I mean, I think I get it. Fitz mentioned how you came back after your grandma died. I figured that’s why you had to come home, and I didn’t mean to make a joke out of it.”

  Simon felt a fresh wave of grief in his belly—a low simmer, nothing like the overwhelming pain he felt when her death was fresh. But it was still a lot. He cleared his throat, then shrugged. “It’s fine.”

  “It was so not fine. I know you never really liked me, but…”

  Simon’s head snapped up. “What are you talking about?”

  Birdie laughed, rubbing the back of his neck again. “I know that I annoy the hell out of you when I do the bagel run. I tried to be your friend, but I mean…I’m loud and obnoxious, and I get why you’d hate me…”

  Simon held up his hand. “That’s not…I don’t hate you. Everyone hates me.”

  Birdie shy smile dropped into a frown. “No one thinks that, Simon. Ronan and Fitz talk about you sometimes—I think they worry,” he trailed off with a sigh, shrugging. “I know they gave you a hard time when you were kids.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Simon answered him softly.

  Birdie laid a hand on the counter. His fingers were thick—not as big as Rocco’s, but close. His skin was marred with scars, like someone had taken molten metal at the end of a brush and flicked it over him. But it fit—it suited him in a way Simon couldn’t explain. “It obviously mattered when you came back to town and locked yourself in your apartment. I just thought you were…I don’t know…unsocial.”

  Simon couldn’t help his laugh. “I am. I’m a socially anxious mess.”

  Trying for a half-smile, Birdie shrugged. “Whose fault is that?”

  “My parents,” Simon said, and he couldn’t help the hint of bitterness in his voice. “My dad for dying, my mom for dragging me here and dumping all her grief on me, and then also dying. My bubbe for not trying harder to help me fit in when I needed to.” He shrugged. “And it’s my own fault, for not getting help when I was older and locking myself away instead of dealing with my problems. None of you made me like this.”