“Here we go. Sleeping Giant State Park. So called because if you look at the silhouette of the hills from a certain perspective, it looks like a giant lying on his back.”
Aaron cleared his throat, hoping his smile didn’t look completely forced. How often will you meet someone like this again? Don’t waste the opportunity. “You can say that about a lot of hill formations.”
“Yeah, but we said it first. Come on.”
They piled out of the car, Cody shouldering a backpack with their lunch.
“Sure I can’t carry that for you?”
“You can carry it on the way back. How about that?”
“Seems hardly fair. It’ll be lighter then.”
“Just another one of my ploys to convince you that Connecticut is the place for you.”
“Because people will carry my lunch for me?”
“Not just anybody. Only me.”
Aaron smiled at the smug tone of Cody’s voice. “You know, that’s a pretty good enticement.”
“Excellent!”
“Uncle Cody,” Kaya called from the trailhead. “Are we hiking or not?”
“Right. Let’s go.”
They headed into the trees, the weather mild enough that all three of them had their jackets tied around their waists before they’d gone too far.
Cody had been right about the trail. It was probably way too easy for him, no problem for determined little Kaya, and not too much of a challenge for Aaron who’d spent most of his days lately behind a desk. He’d probably feel it in his calves tomorrow, but it would be worth it.
Because when they reached the pinnacle… wow. A 360-degree view spread out around them.
Cody was humming under his breath again. By now, Aaron had learned to pay attention, since the tunes were rarely random. Once he recognized this one, he started to chuckle. “The Who, right? ‘I Can See for Miles.’”
Cody grinned. “Got it in one. Appropriate, though, right?”
“I’ll say.” Aaron turned slowly in a circle. “The scenery is gorgeous, yes, but I’m almost more impressed that I can see the scenery. I don’t remember the last time the air was this clear in Santa Ana.”
“Uncle Cody.” Kaya was peering into the distance, where the skyline of a sizable city was clearly visible.
“Yeah, kiddo?”
“It takes us an hour to drive to Hartford.”
“That’s right.”
She pointed to the city. “How come it doesn’t take an hour to see Hartford?”
Cody opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Aaron shared a raised-eyebrow gaze with him and shrugged. “I got nothin’.”
Cody slung an arm across Kaya’s shoulders. “That’s a great question, but it’s not something uncles are qualified to discuss. When you get home, you need to ask your mom and dad to explain it to you.”
She screwed up her mouth in a moue of annoyance. “If you don’t know, you could just say so.”
He laughed. “Right. Sorry. Now what do you say to some lunch?”
Afterward, as he’d promised, Cody let Aaron cart the backpack down the hill to the parking lot. Aaron handed it off to him with a little bow, and Cody grinned before tossing it in the trunk.
He slammed the trunk shut and looked down at his niece. “You up for some ice cream, munchkin?”
Kaya stamped her foot. “Uncle Cody!”
Cody crouched down next to her, putting himself at her eye level. “If I take you to Ashley’s for ice cream, can I call you munchkin then?”
She frowned in fierce concentration. “Not a stupid kid cone?”
“Nope. Full size. Double scoop. In a cup.”
“Okay. But only when we’re there. When we leave, you can’t anymore.”
“Deal.”
As they sat in the ice cream parlor—which was apparently named for a Frisbee-playing whippet—Aaron tried desperately not to be mesmerized by the way Cody licked his ice cream cone with long, slow strokes of his tongue. I’m in public, with a six-year-old, for pity’s sake.
He was not entirely successful, eating his own cup (bittersweet chocolate and rich enough to clog all his arteries at once) so fast that he gave himself an ice cream headache.
“So, Aaron,” Cody said between licks. “I’ve got tomorrow off too. Since we did the mountains today—”
“I wouldn’t call those mountains, precisely. More like hills.”
“Hey, smaller state, smaller mountains. It isn’t about size—it’s about proportion.”
Don’t think about Cody’s proportions. “I’ll grant you that. Provisionally.”
“So anyway, mountains today. How about ocean tomorrow?”
Aaron studied Cody’s profile. Lick. Urgh. “You’re not trying to entice me out on the ocean in a boat, are you?”
“I would never set sail with you—not until you’re ready and ask me nicely.”
From the twinkle in Cody’s eyes—lick—he had something else up his sleeve, but Aaron was distracted enough—lick—that his guard was down.
“Okay. Ocean it is.”
“And maybe river too. Bring swim trunks and a change of clothing.”
“Uh….” He hadn’t brought trunks with him. He wasn’t even sure he still owned any. Lord, he lived within forty minutes of the beach, and he hadn’t gone in years.
“It’ll be fun. Trust me.”
God help me. I do.
“Will they have ice cream where you’re going when you take your trip this winter, Uncle Cody?”
Aaron glanced from Kaya, who was consuming her two scoops with fierce intensity, to Cody, who was suddenly very interested in a picture of Ashley Whippet catching a Frisbee midair.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“I… ah… sort of.”
Kaya stuck her spoon in her ice cream and excavated an enormous bite. “He’s going on a really long hike. Months and months and months.”
“Months and months?” Aaron asked.
Cody scowled at his cone. “I’d like to know what Eliza was thinking, discussing it with Kaya when plans aren’t finalized, but yeah. I was thinking of taking a solo backpacking trip this winter.”
Cold spread from Aaron’s belly—and not because of the ice cream. He won’t be here. If—no, when—the job comes through, I’ll be just as alone as I was in California.
The change in subject effectively ended the torture-by-ice-cream-cone. Cody helped Kaya finish her dish, and they trooped back to the car where Cody sang along with Kaya and her tablet—an upbeat song about pizza.
When they pulled into the driveway, Kaya ran inside ahead of them, already calling for her parents to ask them about how long it takes to see Hartford.
Aaron strolled up to the porch with Cody. “I had a great time today.”
Cody grinned, and once again Aaron was nearly blinded by the glory. “Did you? You seemed a little distracted at Ashley’s.”
Aaron looked at him closely and detected a decided wicked edge to that grin. “You. You did that on purpose.”
He widened his eyes and blinked them in mock innocence. “Who me?”
“Yes, you. Did you want me to embarrass myself in front of your niece?”
Cody sobered at once. “No, Aaron.” He stepped closer, close enough that Aaron could feel the whisper of his breath on his cheek. “I would never want to embarrass you. But I want to do something else.”
“What?” Aaron barely got the word out because his breath had gotten lost somewhere south of his throat.
“I want to kiss you. Is that okay?”
Aaron’s voice got lost along with his breath, so he nodded.
Cody cradled Aaron’s face in his hands and leaned forward, the soft press of his lips against Aaron’s everything that heaven ever promised. Soft. Warm. Lush. Tasting slightly of lemon from his ice cream. But chaste. Aaron wasn’t sure whether to protest or give thanks, because the excitement building in his belly and points south wanted more more more. But his common sense—that bastard—reminded hi
m You’ve only just met. He’s a decade younger. Don’t rush into things.
But oh, Aaron wanted to rush. To rush and feel and fall.
Then Cody pulled away. “That was—” His laugh caught on a shaky inhale.
“That was what?”
“More than I expected? Everything I wanted? Not anywhere close to enough?”
Aaron stroked Cody’s bright hair, so soft. “How about all of the above?”
“That works. I—”
“Uncle Cody!” Kaya stared up at them from the door. “Mommy says to get your butt inside. She has words for you.”
“Be there in a sec, kiddo.” Cody shared a rueful glance with Aaron. “I guess Eliza wasn’t amused by my masterful sidestep.”
“It was a pretty great dodge. Although I think your niece picked the wrong career.”
“What?”
“She’s not going to be a spec fic writer when she grows up. She’s going to rule the world.”
WHEN CODY pulled up outside Aaron’s Airbnb the next afternoon, Aaron was waiting at the curb, dressed in another polo-and-khaki ensemble, a leather messenger bag across his shoulder.
Cody hopped out to open the trunk. “Hey, you.” Before it could get awkward, he pulled Aaron in for a quick kiss. Aaron’s little mmmph of surprise made him worry that he’d misstepped, but when he drew back, Aaron was smiling, an adorable flush painting his cheeks.
“Hello to you too.” He unslung his bag and tossed it in the trunk on top of Cody’s blanket and towels. He frowned slightly, no doubt noting the absence of the picnic basket. “Do you need anything else? I have some snacks upstairs.”
“Don’t worry, Aaron. I won’t let you starve. Everything’s already been taken care of.”
“That sounds ominous.”
Cody gave him another quick peck and then slid behind the wheel. “I’d assume that a teacher would appreciate someone who prepares their assignments so conscientiously.”
Aaron climbed in and buckled his seat belt immediately as he always did. “Am I an assignment, then?”
“No, doofus. Our date is an assignment—the next chapter in ‘Introduce Aaron to the Awesomeness of Connecticut.’” He started the car. “Hey, speaking of teachers, have you heard anything from Hillview yet?”
“No. But it’s Sunday. They said within the week, but I doubt they’d make a decision on the weekend anyway, right?”
Cody shrugged as he pulled out into traffic. “Hillview’s a boarding school, so who knows? Sunday could be a part of their work week. But regardless, I’d say a longer wait is a good sign.”
Aaron’s lips quirked. “You would.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re a glass half-full kind of guy.”
“Pfft.” Cody flicked his fingers. “Who needs glasses? Just use your hands or drink straight out of the hose, I always say.” He grinned at Aaron’s derisive snort. “But think about it. A longer wait means they’re thinking about their choice. Deliberating. It’s a fair process and not something that’s rigged to comply with the letter of employment law.”
“I suppose.” Aaron sighed. “But it doesn’t make the wait any easier.”
“Well, I can do something about that.” He patted Aaron’s knee and was rewarded with a smile. “Sorry we had to start so late. I took pity on Hiran and untangled some code for him this morning.”
“That quickly?”
Cody shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard.”
“Is that why he wants you to work for him?”
“That, and Hiran is a firm believer in nepotism. I think it may be a cultural thing. He always looks to family first.”
Aaron was quiet for several minutes. When Cody glanced at him, he was staring out the window, and since the current scenery was nothing but strip malls and gas stations, it wasn’t for the view.
“Everything okay?”
Aaron jerked slightly, as if he’d been miles away. “Yes. I’m just… thinking.”
“Good thinking or bad thinking?”
Aaron glanced down at his lap. “Your family life is very different from mine.”
“I think that’s true for everybody. I mean what two families are the same?”
“Yes, but I’m talking about the atmosphere, the support, the security. As a kid, were you ever afraid that when you got home from school, you wouldn’t have a home anymore?”
What? “No. That never entered my head, even though Eliza always threatened to convince our parents to move away whenever I left for camp.”
“Well, it happened to me. More than once. My parents were… not responsible. I don’t think ‘stability’ was anywhere in their vocabulary. Time and again, they’d gamble everything on the next golden opportunity—and although none ever panned out, it didn’t stop them from believing that the next tip would be the one.”
Cody gripped the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. “They gambled away your home?”
Aaron glanced at him quickly and then away again. “That would suppose that they had a home to begin with. We usually had a home base of sorts. Apartments mostly, a mobile home once, although that was a rental too. But sometimes it was just our car.”
“Jesus, Aaron. With a kid? Why didn’t they go to a shelter?”
“First, shelter beds are hard to come by, especially for a family that includes both parents. Second, they never tried. Shelters were for losers, as far as they were concerned, and even though they lost time and time again, they never put themselves in that category.”
Cody muttered all the words he wasn’t allowed to say in front of Kaya to himself as he took the turn onto Short Beach Road a little too viciously. “I know they were your parents, but I’ve got to say I think they were total assholes.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like a niece-appropriate word.”
“I don’t care. They deserve it. They had a kid, for God’s sake. You should have been their priority, not some pie-in-the-sky get-rich-quick scheme.”
“Trust me,” Aaron said, his tone dry, “you’re not the only one with that opinion. My aunt finally stepped in when the living-in-a-car thing nearly got me sent into foster care. My parents hung around long enough to assign custody to her, then disappeared. I haven’t seen them since I was ten.”
Cody blinked, his throat thick. “I’m so sorry, Aaron. If it seems like I was, I don’t know, flaunting my family in front of you, I didn’t do it on purpose. If it upset you—”
Aaron gripped Cody’s biceps, his fingers chilly against Cody’s skin. “Don’t ever think that. Just because I didn’t have a perfect family life, it doesn’t mean I begrudge other people theirs. Besides….” Aaron released him and leaned back in his seat.
“Besides what?”
Aaron’s expression was somber, with those same sad eyes that had captured Cody’s interest the first day. “I would hate to think of you being unhappy or frightened as a child.”
Cody swallowed against a lump in his throat the size of a baseball as he turned onto Killams Point Road. “Thanks. You don’t have to worry about that. My childhood was awesome, although while I was in it, I probably found plenty to complain about, just like any other self-centered kid. But I was never hungry or uncertain of my parents’ love and support.”
“Uh… Cody?” Aaron was staring out the window, craning his neck to look behind him. “That sign said this is private.”
“It is. It belongs to my parents’ church. They’ve got a conference center out here.”
“Is it okay for us to be here?”
“Yes. Besides, my dad’s a deacon. He can bail us out of religious trespassing jail if necessary.”
“Cody—”
“Kidding.” He glanced at Aaron’s troubled face in the dappled light as they drove down the wooded road. “Do you always follow the rules?”
“Why? Do you think following the rules is somehow reprehensible?”
“Not reprehensible exactly. But I don’t see the point in following arbitrary
rules blindly. I mean, who’s to say the rulemaker has the authority anyway? Don’t you ever wonder why the rules are there?”
“No, I don’t.” Aaron’s tone had a definite edge. “I wonder how many people died before somebody got off their ass and put the necessary safety regulations in place.” Aaron huffed out a breath. “Sorry. Didn’t mean go all dark side on you.”
Cody patted his knee. “I’m telling you, Aaron, you need to find some more cheerful history. In fact, that’s your homework. At our next date, you have to regale me with at least three stories—either events or people—that turned out well.”
Aaron’s lips quirked in a lopsided smile. “Regale you, huh?”
“Yes. I insist on being regaled. I don’t think I’ve ever been regaled before. It’ll be an adventure.”
“You’re assuming—I mean, will there be a next date?” Aaron’s tone was tentative, as if he assumed Cody would hedge or outright deny the possibility.
“Are you asking what I want or trying to let me down easy?” Because Cody had heard it all before: Flighty. Reckless. Adrenaline-junkie. But despite his adventure lust, Cody would never put anyone else at risk—not their person and not their feelings. He parked the car along the side of the road, under the trees. “You know what I think?”
Aaron smiled wryly. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“Then I’ll tell you. You and me? We’re serendipity.”
“Isn’t serendipity just another word for coincidence?”
“Yeah, but it’s a happy coincidence, not doom-and-gloom destiny. Maybe it was garden-variety coincidence that you were standing in the middle of the Seaport green looking like an abandoned puppy—”
“I did not look like a puppy!”
“A mournful abandoned puppy, just as I was finishing my shift. But when you came back the next day—that wasn’t coincidence. Yesterday wasn’t coincidence. Neither is today. I’m telling you—serendipity. And we are totally rocking it.” He leaned in to kiss the sad smile off Aaron’s lips. “Are you… are you glad?”
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