by E M Lindsey
“Is she…dead?”
Simon let out a small sigh. “Yeah. Couple years ago. I took over. We live upstairs, so if you ever need anything…”
“No one wants to see your creepy rock collection,” came a voice from the doorway, and the other man—an older version of the other kid from the photo—walked out. He looked like Simon, but he had something else about him—a strength, an arrogance, maybe—that his brother didn’t. “You’re the one with the ass cake, right?”
Simon hissed something else in Hebrew, and Levi shrugged. “Sorry,” Simon told him, but Collin was already shaking his head.
“That’s probably me. My boyfriend ordered it, but he didn’t tell me what it was.”
Levi looked delighted, and he grabbed the box from the counter and slid it toward Collin. “Let me know if you need me to change anything.”
With only a little apprehension, he pulled the bit of tape off the edge and lifted the lid. He contained his grin, but only just. The cake was simple, with vanilla buttercream—exactly the way Max liked it. No frills, no fancy decor. Just a piped shell border, and then in red icing in the middle, Happy Birthday Max, Please Let Us Eat Your Ass.
Collin ran his tongue over his bottom lip, then looked up at Levi who was watching with his arms crossed. “Word for word?”
“He paid extra for the swear word, but I told him it wasn’t necessary. I wouldn’t hate it if you took a pic and tagged us on Instagram though. I’d love more work like this.”
Simon’s eyes went wider. “Levi! Dai!”
“Get over it, Si. Bubbe’s dead and it’s not 1982 anymore.”
There was a silence so thick, Collin could have cut it with a knife. He watched the color drain from Simon’s face, watched the pain fill his eyes. He took a breath, then shook his head and left the room. For only a second, regret flitted across Levi’s face, but his arrogant smirk returned a second later.
“He gave us a credit card over the phone, so you’re good to go. Unless you need anything to go with it.”
Collin hesitated before putting the lid back down and smoothing the tape. “I hope my boyfriend didn’t...get you into trouble.”
Levi rolled his eyes, then shook his head. “He likes to boss me around, but our grandmother left this place to both of us and I’d like to drag it into the twenty-first century, even if he is kicking and screaming.”
Collin felt for Simon. He saw something in his eyes that he recognized in himself, but it wasn’t his place. He didn’t know these people—not yet. He didn’t want to alienate himself or his lovers in a place he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be welcome.
“I hope it gets sorted, mate.” Collin pulled the cake close to him. “Thanks for indulging him.”
“I hope they both like it,” Levi said, then winked.
Feeling a little buoyed, Collin set the cake down in the Jeep, then made his way across the street and down a little alley to the storefront of his second stop—and maybe the most important one he’d made so far. It was rare to find proper blacksmiths anywhere these days, but Collin had found the faded advert hanging on a telephone poll outside the supermarket, and he’d gone on the website to find it real.
He’d been exchanging emails with the man who owned it, Ashley, and had made his appointment to finalize everything that afternoon. Rings… and the thought made his heart beat a little too hard because he never thought he’d be in a place to make a gesture like this ever again.
And yet, here he was.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see Spencer’s name on the screen.
Spencer: I think Morticia’s in labor. Max isn’t having it. He puked. Vet’s on the way. No rush, I’ve got this.
Collin: Be there soon, my darling.
Haste flowed through his veins, but he couldn’t put this off—didn’t want to. A large cowbell rang as he pushed the door open, and the man behind the counter looked up. He was larger, attractive, bulging muscles smeared with black soot. He had a friendly grin, though, and a soft voice.
“You must be Collin. I’m Ashley.”
He stepped forward and extended his hand. “Alright, mate?”
“Not bad. Thanks for coming down. It’s easier if I show you the designs in person than through email. The pictures don’t quite capture it.” He had the design sheets in front of him, one with the stones, the other with the metal. “I’m working with a guy who has a metalsmith shop down the road. I’m going to get most of this done, and he’ll polish up the design. The goats are the tricky part, but I’m hoping this was what you had in mind.”
And it was. It was engraved, the likeness of the ugly, worthless painted goat on the side of the mountain. The very reason—the very lie—that his lovers had booked that trip with him. That shitty joke had turned Collin’s life into something worth living. Not just surviving, but living. He might not ever tell Charles that—he didn’t want his shithead brother to get credit, but it was still the profound truth.
“I love it,” he said after a beat.
Ashley’s apprehensive frown melted, and he grinned. “You sure? I can change anything you want now. Once I get started on the actual rings…”
“No,” Collin said quietly. He dragged the tip of his finger over the drawing, and he felt his eyes go a little hot. “No. It’s perfect.”
Ashley stuck out his hand again. “Then we have a deal. You can put the deposit through on the website, and Greyson and I will both deal with the split so you don’t have to worry about that. It’ll be a few weeks at the very least though, so…”
“No, that’s,” Collin said, waving that away. “It’s fine. I’m not in a rush.” In truth, he didn’t know when he was going to...well, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure if he was going to pop any kind of question or if he was just going to get down on his aching knees for both of his men and show them just how much he belonged to them—how much they owned him. When he had proposed to Grant, he had been terrified because there was a chance he’d say no. This time—however he asked, whatever he asked—he knew what the answer would be.
“Take care, man,” Ashley said as Collin headed for the door.
Collin turned around and smiled at him. “I will.”
“I feel like a fucking idiot,” Max said, his voice low in a pout. He was curled up on a loose pile of hay in the corner of the barn, still a bit green around the gills. Spencer and the vet were dealing with Morticia and the two kids—both stark black like her, and both starting to nurse.
Collin had come home just after the final birth and found Max in the barn with everyone, but with his back to the scene. He wrapped himself around the younger man and held him close, and Max rested against him with his eyes squeezed shut.
“You are not an idiot,” Collin murmured against his ear.
Max scoffed. “I know our sweetheart is kind of a priss, but I can’t even handle a little blood. I hate being this pathetic.”
Collin took him by the chin, easing his gaze up, and he held it there. “You are not pathetic, and I would like to find every single person that ever made you feel that way and punch them in the mouth.”
Max flushed under his gaze, his touch, his words. His throat bobbed with a thick swallow, and he looked like he wanted to either say a thousand things, or never speak again. “I…”
Collin breathed, then let him off the hook with a kiss. Their lips slanted together, Collin parting his own to let Max in. It was slow, and deep, and soft, and everything that mattered to him in life.
“Getting the party started without me?” came a petulant tone.
Collin laughed as Max pulled his head back. “Without you, my darling? Never. How are the babies?”
“Warm, healthy, eating just fine. Lance just took off so I’m going to wash up and then meet you in the kitchen for dinner.”
“I hope there’s cake,” Max grumbled.
Spencer knelt down and slid his arms around Max’s waist, pulling him in tight to kiss his neck. “I thought the birthday boy
didn’t want cake.”
“Don’t call me the birthday boy, you fucking nerd,” Max said, but Collin could see the way his lips twitched in the corners. “And get off me. You’re covered in, like, goat juice.”
“Oh, my God,” Spencer said, but he let go and backed up so Collin and Max could climb to their feet.
The three of them made their way to the house, and Collin didn’t protest when Max wandered off toward the shower with Spencer under the guise of conserving water. It would be a while before they were in their own house, with proper plumbing, but this felt more like a home than anywhere ever had.
Even when all the sounds carried, and when it was too cold at night, and too hot in afternoons, it was perfect. Collin busied himself at the stove, taking out the chicken Spencer had started roasting hours before, checking the temperature before he dished out the vegetables into a separate bowl. The cake sat on the counter in its box, tucked near the post, unobtrusive and simple.
He hoped the aftermath would be anything but.
His cock thickened in his jeans as he thought about the way he might lay them both out, alternately feed it to them before turning Max onto his stomach and making a meal out of his tight hole. Then he’d slide in—slicked up and totally bare, and he’d…
“Babe?”
Collin fought back a groan as his fantasy was interrupted by Spencer’s sweet voice. He padded in the room, freshly cleaned in a pair of sweats, and he put one hand on Collin’s shoulder and dragged him down into a kiss.
“Did you get it? Did you see it?” he asked, bouncing on his toes.
Collin rolled his eyes. “Yes, cheeky. The baker seemed thrilled. Mentioned something about banging a shot of it on Instagram.”
“Oh, I plan on it.” Spencer crept to the box, peeling the lid away, and managed to get a picture with his phone and returned it to normal before Max walked into the room.
He looked at them, suspicion in his eyes, but Collin threw up his hands in surrender and pointed to a chair at the table. “Sit, birthday boy. There’s no untoward surprises waiting for you.”
Max grumbled, but did what he was told, and he relaxed when he saw the simple dinner, and that no one was waiting in the wings to jump out and start a party. The conversation was nice—mostly about the new goats, and about the upcoming meeting with the designer for the bathrooms. It was domestic. It was everything.
“Should I get the cake?” Spencer asked once their plates were cleared.
Collin’s mouth twitched. “Might as well.”
Max crossed his arms as Spencer bounded from the table to the counter, then back again. He positioned himself directly in front of the box so Max couldn’t see, then took down the corners and added six small, cheap red birthday candles before stepping aside.
“Happy birthday, grumpy,” Spencer said.
Max stood, looked down, then stared at Spencer with narrow eyes. “This better be a fucking promise.”
“It might be.” Spencer leaned in and lit the candles. “Blow them out and make a wish. We’ll see if it comes true.”
They didn’t sing happy birthday—Max would have hated it. They just stood a moment, in the perfect silence, then Max leaned in and with his mouth in a perfect O, he blew them all out.
The last one flickered, like it might put up a fight, then fizzled into a small puff of smoke. Wax dripped near the words, and Max turned, hauling Spencer in for a kiss so deep, it curled Collin’s toes. When it was over, Max turned to him, and Collin’s arms were open before he was even consciously aware of it.
Max fit there, perfect and safe, and Collin held tight. His hand touched Max’s cheek and he smudged their noses together. “I love you.” The words came helpless, unbidden, and his heart thrashed in his chest as Max leaned in and kissed him—different to the way he kissed Spencer, but no less important. When he pulled back, Collin held him by the face. “Did your wish come true?”
Max looked over at Spencer, who was watching with naked hunger and a promise to sate it in his eyes. Max laughed, turned back to Collin, and kissed him one more time.
“You know,” he said, against Collin’s lips, “I think it did.”
The End
About E.M. Lindsey
E.M. Lindsey currently lives in Gainesville, Florida. In what precious little time she has to herself, she reads gay romances and binges GBBO, The Untamed, and anything Star Wars.
Find E.M. Lindsey on her website and subscribe for a link to free short stories in Irons and Works. Follow E.M. Lindsey on Patreon for sneak peeks, cover reveals, early chapters, ARCs and more. E.M. Lindsey can also be found in her Facebook group Lindsey’s Liaison.
Also by E.M. Lindsey
Baum’s Boxing:
Book One: Below the Belt
Book Two: Fortune and Fate
Book Three: Fringe Contender
Breaking the Rules:
Book One: Renegades
Book Two: Temptation
Irons and Works:
Book One: Free Hand
Book Two: Blank Canvas
Book Three: American Traditional
Book Four: Bio-Mechanical
Book Five: Stick-and-Poke
Book Six: Scarification
Book Seven: To Touch the Light- An Irons and Works Holiday novel
Magnum Opus Series:
Verismo
Tremolo
Serenata
Stand-Alone Novels:
Like Water Catching Fire
Forget-Me-Not
About Kate Hawthorne
Born and raised in Southern California, Kate Hawthorne woke up one day and realized she had stories worth sharing. Now existing on a steady diet of wine and coffee, Kate writes stories about complicated men in love that are sometimes dirty, but always sweet. She enjoys crafting hard-fought and well deserved happy endings with just the right amount of angst and kink.
From estate sale shopping to shoe worship, there's something in at least one of her books that'll tickle your fancy. Visit her website at www.katehawthornebooks.com
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Also by Kate Hawthorne
Giving Consent
(now on audio!)
Worth the Switch
Worth the Risk
Worth the Wait
Worth the Fight
Worth the Chance
Secrets in Edgewood
A Taste of Sin
The Cost of Desire
A Love Made Whole
The Lonely Hearts Stories
(now on audio!)
His Kind of Love
The Colors Between Us
Love Comes After
Until You Say Otherwise
Room for Love
Unfettered
Reckless
Carver County Vampires
A Thousand Lifetimes
With E.M. Denning
Irreplaceable
Future Fake Husband
Future Gay Boyfriend
Future Ex Enemy
About E.M. Denning
E. M. Denning is a married mom of three and a writer from British Columbia. Author of endearing filth and schmoopy sex, also addicted to books and coffee. She writes romance for the 18+ crowd.
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Also by E.M. Denning
The Desires Series
What He Needs
What He Craves
What He Hides
What He Fears
Upstate Education Series
Half As Much
More Than Anything
Never Enough
The Blackburn Brothers Duet
The Sweetest Thing
The Secret Thing
Standalones
Best Laid Plans
Murder Husbands
With Kate Hawthorne
Irreplaceable
Future Fake Husband
Future Gay Boyfriend
Future Ex Enemy