Christmas Beau (Christmas Falls: Season 2)

Chapter 15

Chapter

Fifteen

“ A business plan?” Josh Gilmore said, propping one ankle against the opposite knee at Hank’s kitchen table. “That’s... not a bad idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I manage a pub.”

“In your defense, you didn’t start the pub.” At the island, Hank flipped the strips of salmon in the air fryer, then slid the tray back in. “Your parents did.”

Josh grunted. “Still.”

“Hey, I didn’t think of it either until this morning.”

Hank had never written a business plan for his dog treats; that side hustle had happened organically.

He had to admit it—he admired the way Scott hadn’t jumped into his next job. He didn’t want a job for the sake of having one—he wanted it to mean something, so he was taking his time, even as he recognized that he couldn’t live off his savings forever.

When a second community had rejected his proposal to team up for an official hockey club, it had hit Hank that he was going about things all wrong. He was starting from the middle instead of at the beginning. He needed to take a step back and approach it logically, and that meant slowing down and putting a plan in place, outlining all the steps and the reasons why he was doing this. He didn’t need to speed through this next stage of his life. Like Scott, he was allowed to take the scenic route and enjoy every step along the way.

Kind of like his relationship with Scott. There was no need to rush that like he’d rushed every other relationship in his life, starting with his high school boyfriend and ending with his second marriage. He and Scott were obviously both all in. For the moment, that was all that mattered.

“What are you making?” Josh asked, cutting into Hank’s thoughts.

“Salmon jerky for the dogs. Scott gave me the idea a few weeks ago, but I haven’t had time to try a recipe until now.” A Tuesday afternoon after work with no youth practice or game to oversee? Hank would rather spend the time with Scott, but it was the last day of the fair and Scott would be packing up his booth soon.

“Scott Jersey? Is this a bribe for making his son mad the other day? You never told me what that was about.”

“No.” Hank forced himself to remain casual when all he wanted was to scream to the world that Scott wanted him , bad choices, bad hockey, and everything. But he also wanted to keep Scott to himself for a little longer. “And that was... a misunderstanding.”

Josh raised an eyebrow, expectant.

“The business plan?” Hank said, redirecting the conversation.

Huffing a small laugh, Josh crossed his arms over his chest.

To Hank’s surprise, Josh had come to him this morning offering to partner with him on the hockey club, despite how busy he already was. Hank had known Josh was interested in helping, but partnering? That was an entirely different matter. Hank had accepted, because of course he had. It was nice to have someone on his side who was as supportive of this project as he was. Plus it meant he didn’t have to navigate all the bits and pieces of a new business on his own.

“Okay, so tell me—how do we go about writing a business plan?” Josh asked. “Actually, I can ask Mik. He’s got a business administration degree. Surely, he’ll be able to tell us where to start.”

“I downloaded a free template,” Hank told him, joining Josh at the table. “But if Mik doesn’t mind taking a look at it, that’d be great. He might spot sections that are missing.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, landing on a deadline by which they realistically thought they could complete the business plan. By the time Josh left, Hank was feeling much more optimistic about their hockey club than he had after this morning’s rejection.

One would think he’d be used to rejection after being rejected by his team’s NHL coaches year after year, but one rejection was just as gut-curdling as the last, no matter how many times it had happened or the reason for it.

He gave the dogs some of the salmon jerky once it was ready, and given the way they went crazy over it, he figured it was a success. As he packaged some of it up to bring to Scott later, he made a mental note to email one of his former teammates, who was also the man who designed his treat bags. He needed new ones for the salmon. He also needed to register his new product with the state in order to legally sell it and send his product to a lab for analysis for the label’s product guarantee.

Cursing under his breath, he jotted his mental note onto a real note so he didn’t forget, then removed ingredients for simple double chocolate brownies.

If he was bringing a treat for Fallon, he should bring one for Scott too.

He was using the treats and brownies as an excuse to see the guy, but so what? Hank liked him. A lot. He could admit—at least to himself—that Scott made him feel settled, both in their relationship and in himself. He was the first person to make Hank stop and think instead of barreling ahead with no plan.

Scott’s ebullience was addicting. It was like the gravy on the Christmas turkey or the honey glaze on the ham—you couldn’t have one without the other. There was no Scott without his lighthearted approach to life.

And Hank wanted more of that.

It wasn’t just Scott either. Hank liked Teddy too. A good thing considering Scott came as a package deal. And if Hank and Scott’s burgeoning relationship got serious—which Hank hoped it did, just, you know, slowly—there was a chance Hank would take a more active role in Teddy’s life.

And he was really fucking looking forward to that.

He’d just slid the brownies into the oven when his phone rang, and he answered with a grin when he saw Pete’s name on the display. “Hey, Pete. How are Rhiannon and the kids?”

“Good,” Pete said as their middle brothers—Marty and Vic—joined the video call. “Finally past that bug that Scarlett brought home, and I managed to not catch it, so... can’t complain. Hey, guys.”

“Hey,” Vic echoed.

Marty squinted. “Gross. What’s with the face foliage?”

Waggling his eyebrows, Vic caressed his mustache. “Remi says it makes me look sexy.”

“Was he drunk when he said that?” Hank asked, only half sarcastically.

“You look like a sixties porn star,” Pete added.

Vic flipped them off. “Fuck you all. Not my fault you can’t recognize beauty when you see it.”

Hank chuckled, the sound drowned out by Pete and Marty’s laughter.

“You’re all fuckwads,” Vic muttered.

“Says the guy with the sixties ’stash,” Marty said, still snickering.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

They all did, and Hank would’ve felt bad if Vic wasn’t sniggering along with them.

“Did you call for a reason, or just to make fun of me?” Vic eventually asked.

“I always have a reason for what I do,” Pete told him.

Hank exchanged skeptical glances with Marty and Vic. “Uh, how about that time you jumped off the garage roof?” Hank said, taking a seat on the nearest barstool.

Pete held up a finger. “That was to impress Carrie.”

“She didn’t even know you existed,” Marty said.

“Still didn’t after the roof stunt,” Vic added. “You almost broke something for nothing.”

The fact that Pete hadn’t broken anything was still discussed at the kitchen table during family dinners.

Pete rolled his eyes. “If you’d all shut up for two seconds, I can tell you why I called.”

As one, Hank, Marty, and Vic made a combination of honking and choking sounds. It only lasted a couple of seconds before they dissolved into laughter.

Pete looked up, as though the ceiling held all the answers. “Children, all of you.”

“Who sent me a video the other day of a guy falling off his chair?” Marty made a show of thinking about it. “Oh right. That was you.”

“Okay, okay.” Pete rolled his eyes, but he was laughing. “Look, I only have a few minutes. Do you want to know why I called or not?”

Vic waved a hand grandly. “Go ahead.”

“I was thinking we could do a combined Christmas present for Mom and Dad this year,” Pete said. “Something we can all contribute to.”

“Guessing you have a few ideas?” Hank asked, because that was how Pete rolled.

“Well, one idea,” Pete admitted. “Mom and Dad haven’t had a proper vacation in probably a decade. What if we bought them a trip somewhere? We could split the cost of it between the four of us.”

Hank stiffened as his brothers discussed the idea without him. Knowing Pete, this wouldn’t be a two-thousand-dollar, all-inclusive trip for two to the Caribbean. He was no doubt thinking about a two-week cruise in first class or a five-star European vacation.

Sure enough, when Marty asked if Pete had a list of vacations handy, Pete said, “A fifteen-day river cruise along the Danube. Mom’s always wanted to see Germany and Austria, and this cruise I found goes from Budapest to Amsterdam.”

“For how much?” Hank asked warily.

“With all expenses included, we’re looking at?—”

The sum he listed made Hank drop the phone. “Jesus Christ.” Righting the phone, he added, “Even split four ways, I can’t afford that.”

“Yeah, guys, remember?” Vic winked. “Hank never made it to the big leagues like us.”

Gritting his teeth, Hank hung up on them.

Immature? Maybe. But he didn’t have to listen to that bullshit. Scott was right—he needed to talk to them about the so-called teasing.

The phone rang in his hand, and he gave it a few seconds before swiping to accept.

“Aw, don’t be mad,” Vic said. “It’s not your fault you’re not as good as us.”

Hank hung up on them again.

When they called back within a few seconds, Hank looked at the dogs and said, “Maybe I just won’t answer this time.”

None of them reacted.

Hank did answer, if only to prove that he was going to start living his life more honestly, like he’d told Scott.

As soon as the line connected, he held up a finger, stopping whatever they were going to say in their tracks. “Do you think it’s fun for me to constantly be the butt of your jokes? Do you think it’s fun for me to have you laugh about how I didn’t make it to the NHL? Couldn’t make it, no matter how hard I tried?” He paused there, letting that sink in for a moment. “It’d be like if I constantly reminded Vic that Remi said no when he asked him to marry him. Or how embarrassed Marty still is about scoring in the wrong net. Or how upset Pete was that he didn’t get the captaincy. Knowing how deeply those things affected you, I would never laugh about them unless you were willing to laugh along with me.” He scrubbed one hand through his hair, his shoulders sinking with fatigue when Kinsey came over to whine at his feet. “It was my dream to play in the NHL. To be a permanent fixture on the roster. But I couldn’t make that happen. Maybe one day that’ll be funny. But right now? Being reminded of it—like with that stupid blog post Vic sent the other day—it...” He trailed off, unable to find the words to explain how soul-sucking it was to constantly be reminded of his failures. It was like someone reached into his chest, fisted his heart, and gave it a twist for good measure.

“Sorry, Hank,” Pete said quietly, his gaze steady. “We’ve been total dicks, haven’t we?”

“I’m glad you said something,” Marty tacked on. “We never meant to make you feel bad.”

“I did,” Vic chirped.

Hank let out a half groan, half laugh as Marty muttered, “My god, you’re an asshole,” and Pete said, “Seriously? Who invited this guy?”

“What Vic means,” Pete said, louder, “is that we’re sorry. We’ll do better.”

“Yeah. Sorry, Hank,” Marty added.

“Sorry, man,” Vic finished, and he did sound sincere.

Hank nodded, a lump in his throat the size of their grandmother’s Christmas fruitcake.

“Back to the topic of Mom and Dad’s gift and acknowledging that we don’t all have the same financial means...” Pete tapped one finger on his stubbled chin. “What if we got a gift certificate for the cruise for, say, a third of the cost? Mom and Dad could pay the rest.”

“Actually,” Hank jumped in, leaning an elbow on the countertop. “What I think Mom and Dad would like more than a vacation is having us all together more than once a year.”

“Huh,” said Pete.

“Huh,” said Marty.

“Huh,” said Vic.

Hank hid a smile behind his hand.

“Okay.” Pete crossed his arms over his chest and put on his thinking face. “How do we make that happen?”

As they discussed their schedules and their partners’ and kids’ schedules for the next half hour, Hank let the dogs out into the yard to do their business and took the brownies out of the oven, feeling, for perhaps the first time in his life, like part of a pack.

Part of the Beaufort brothers’ foursome.

Scott had never been happier to see his quilts disappear into boxes. The Arts and Crafts Fair had been exhausting as fuck.

Fun too. He’d chatted with locals and visitors alike, gotten to know some of his fellow vendors, and had the chance to witness weird fair events, like a gift-wrapping competition.

But god, was he glad it was over.

“You did pretty good,” Anna said as she folded a quilt featuring cars and trucks into quarters. “Some people have a ton of stock left over, but you’ve only got a dozen quilts.”

He’d started with a dozen quilts too, but as they’d sold, he’d replaced them with other stock that he’d had on hand, as well as couple more he’d made over the last eighteen days.

“Some days were better than others,” Scott told her, tossing his remaining security blankets into a box. “But overall, I can’t complain. Thanks for helping me pack up.”

“It’s no problem. I had a feeling you couldn’t wait to see the backside of this place.”

“You have no idea.”

Around them, other vendors were packing up their wares as well and rolling their merchandise to their cars on dollies or wagons. Some were faster than others and had already vacated, while some, like Scott, were taking the time to ensure their products wouldn’t get damaged in transit.

Not that Scott had to worry about breaking his quilts and blankets, but he was careful not to snag them on a corner of a box.

He was also taking his sweet-ass time as he tried to find an opening to ask Anna about her relationship with Sean.

Which was admittedly none of his business, but he was curious, and he just wanted to look out for his friend.

It had been three days since Sean had paid for Teddy’s camp without asking, and Scott hadn’t found a single moment to talk to him about it yet. Even though they lived in the same house, they were like ships passing in the night. Scott spent all day at the fair, and Sean was out in the evenings, doing... whatever he was doing. Catching up with old friends? Taking Anna out? Whatever it was, by the time he got back, Scott was already in bed.

Was it possible Sean was avoiding him on purpose?

A lump formed in Scott’s throat at the thought. Was he so unapproachable that Sean didn’t want to talk to him?

Needing a distraction from his own thoughts, he dragged his branded table runner off the table and began to fold it. “How have you been?” he asked Anna. “We haven’t hung out in a while.”

Anna suddenly found the packing tape super interesting. “I’ve been good. Busy.”

“Busy dating my brother?” Scott asked, leaping in with both feet with no preamble.

Her gaze snapped to his. “He told you?”

“Teddy did. Was he not supposed to?”

She winced. “What? No, of course he can talk about it. It’s not like we swore him to secrecy.” She made a face. “I was going to tell you. Just... Sean and I are still sort of sussing each other out right now.”

“Weren’t you the one who said love is stupid?” Scott asked over the sound of his neighbor taping a box shut.

“I stand by that statement.”

“And didn’t you say you were never going there with Sean again?”

“Yeah, well...” Anna shrugged helplessly. “Everybody deserves a second chance. Even your idiot brother.”

Scott tucked the tablecloth into a box. “You’re not worried he’s going to break your heart again?”

“Sure I am. But I can’t live my life worrying about what-ifs.”

Scott thought about that as he began disassembling his garment racks. Hadn’t he been living a decade-plus being careful about dating because he worried about ending up in the same situation as his clients—separated and ultimately divorced? Of course, not all couples got divorced. His parents were still happily married, for one, and his maternal grandparents had been married for fifty-six years before his grandfather passed away. But being faced with couple after bitter couple as part of his job had admittedly made him a little gun-shy.

Truth was, though, he wasn’t like Hank. He didn’t rush headlong into relationships—or anything else. Whoever he decided to marry— if he ever decided to marry—it would be someone with whom he could see himself spending many more years. Someone who made him feel treasured. Someone who was an equal partner. Who shared his values and supported his goals, like Scott would support theirs.

An image of Hank popped into his mind, and even though he knew it was the honeymoon phase talking, he couldn’t help the surge of excitement at the prospect of spending Christmas with him. And next Christmas. And the one after.

A throat cleared nearby, and Scott looked up to find his brother hovering next to his second garment rack.

“Hey.” Sean’s smile was tentative.

“Hey,” Anna responded, and her smile was goofy as hell. The one Sean shot her was just as smitten.

Scott swore to himself that he’d never smile at Hank like that. It was seriously hearts-and-flowers.

Of course, he probably already had smiled at Hank like that, but that wasn’t the point.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked, just to interrupt the sappy gaga eyes they were making at each other.

Sean shoved his hands in his coat pockets. He’d finally upgraded from the dinky windbreaker—he wore a knee-length parka in dark gray with a fur-trimmed hood and had clearly invested in some sturdy winter boots too. “I came to see if I can help.”

Scott stared at him, as surprised by that as he’d be if a herd of Christmas reindeer stampeded into the room.

Anna had no such problem. “You can take those boxes to Scott’s car.”

Sean looked at Scott as though for permission, which broke Scott’s heart for whatever reason. Scott nodded. “Thanks. The car’s unlocked.”

Sean stacked two boxes, picked them up, and headed out. Scott watched him go until Anna poked him in the chest. “Second chances.”

“He’s on his, like, fourth at this point.”

“Some people need more than a second chance. Especially family people.”

“Can’t argue that.”

Between the three of them, they had his remaining inventory packed and loaded in the next fifteen minutes. Scott offered Anna a lift home, but she declined, claiming she was going to the Holiday House Light Tour with some friends.

Scott pouted. “You have friends other than me?”

She patted his chest with one gloved hand. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

“It should.”

She parted with a kiss to his cheek and a kiss to Sean’s mouth—weird—her steps nearly silent on the inch of snow that had accumulated throughout the day. When she got to the end of the street, she waved over her shoulder without looking behind her before turning the corner, like she knew they were still watching.

Pursing his lips, Scott turned to his brother, a terse Don’t break my best friend’s heart again on the tip of his tongue. But the way Sean stood with his shoulders rigid and his face tense—he was braced for exactly that, and it took the wind right out of Scott’s sails.

“Got plans for dinner?”

The look of shock that crossed Sean’s expression made Scott feel like an asshole. “Uh... no,” Sean said. “You’ve got twenty pizzas in your freezer. Why don’t we make one of those?”

“It’s not twenty,” Scott murmured, sliding into the driver’s seat. “It’s twelve. At most.”

“That’s really not that much of a difference. You’re not feeding Teddy pizza on a nightly basis, are you?”

Scott shot him a look as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. “I don’t need parenting advice from a nomad.”

“I may be a nomad, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about proper nutrition.”

“You’re the one who suggested pizza for dinner.”

“Yeah, for tonight. Not for twelve nights in a row.”

“I don’t feed Teddy pizza twelve nights in a row.”

They continued the friendly bickering until they arrived home, and all of a sudden, they were kids again, arguing about nothing at the dinner table. Scott was smiling as he walked into the house and chose a pizza at random to throw into the oven, and he was smiling when he told Teddy to turn off the TV and do his homework. And he was still smiling when he grabbed two beers out of the fridge and joined Sean on the covered porch.

They sat side by side in the plastic Adirondack chairs Scott kept outside all year long, mostly because he was too lazy to put them away for the winter. Neighbors walked their dogs by them and others arrived home from work. Snow fell softly, blanketing the sidewalks, and the houses were lit up with so many holiday lights that it was a bit like being in the middle of a mini Times Square at night. Across the street, Jack Skellington stared at them from Mrs. Gilmore’s bay window.

Scott toasted him with his beer.

“I was thinking,” Sean said slowly. “For Teddy’s birthday, I’d like to take him to see a hockey game in Chicago. Maybe in the new year? If it’s okay with you.”

Scott hated the hesitant note to his voice. All he’d wanted was for Sean to ask permission when it came to him or Teddy, and now that he was, it all felt... wrong.

“He’d love that,” Scott said hoarsely. “But will you still be here in the new year?”

“I was planning on staying permanently, so... yeah.”

Pausing with his beer halfway to his lips, Scott said, “You’re staying? Here?”

“Yes, here. Well, not here here.” Sean jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating Scott’s house. “I’ll get my own place. But here in Christmas Falls. I’ll still need to travel for work every once in a while, but this will be my home base. I plan on being here more than I’m—” He waved a hand. “—out there.”

Scott turned sideways in his seat to give his brother his full attention. “What brought this on? I thought you were happy jumping from place to place.”

Sean stared into his beer. “I was. For a long time, it was great. I got to see places I’d only dreamed about and meet people from all walks of life. I got to scuba dive in the best oceans, spend nights in haunted Irish castles, and fish in Japanese rivers.”

“You don’t want to do that anymore?”

“It’s not that I don’t.” Sean scuffed the heel of one booted foot against the ground. “It’s that the desire to be in one place outweighs my desire to see more and do more. There was this...” He scoffed. “You’re going to think I’m sappy as hell, but I was on the beach in Sri Lanka last month and there was this family there—parents and two teen boys. They were splashing each other in the water, laughing like hyenas. It reminded me of that summer Mom and Dad took us to Myrtle Beach. Remember?”

“Yeah,” Scott croaked, his heart in his throat.

“It hit me all at once that I wanted that. Not the family and kids, necessarily, but that sense of belonging. Of knowing where you fit. So I came home. Because I’ve always fit here.”

“That’s not sappy at all,” Scott said, his chest squeezing for his brother. “You knew when you got here that you were staying? You didn’t say anything.”

Sean shrugged. “I was still figuring things out then.”

“Anna didn’t have anything to do with you wanting to stay?”

Snorting a laugh, Sean set his beer down and shoved his hands in his armpits as a brisk breeze slipped by. “That’s a nice turn of events, but no. I was planning to stay before that happened. Frankly, I didn’t think she’d ever give me the time of day again.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Asshole,” Sean said without heat. He sobered quickly. “Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I never meant to upset you by paying for Teddy’s camp. I just wanted to help. To feel useful. We haven’t seen much of each other since I came home. We’ve both been busy, you know? You had the fair, and I’ve been working most nights, since a lot of my clients are anywhere from twelve to sixteen hours ahead of us.”

Huh. So that was what he’d been doing with his time.

Sean shrugged one shoulder. “I just wanted you to see me, but I chose a dumb way of doing that. I’m sorry. And about what I said. I know you’re not jealous of my life, and you don’t feel stuck here. I was mad that you were mad and...” He let out a humorless laugh. “Truth is, I was the one who was jealous of you. You’ve got the house and the great kid and the cute dog and the hot boyfriend. You’re settled. And I think I’ve been wanting to feel settled for longer than I realized.”

Swallowing hard, Scott did the only thing he could do. “Forgiven. But Sean—you can’t do anything like that again. Anything that affects Teddy goes through me first. At least until he’s eighteen.”

Sean nodded. “Promise.”

“And since it’s apparently apology night,” Scott said ruefully. “I’m sorry for what I said too. Accusing you of trying to buy Teddy’s love... That was really shitty of me.”

“It wasn’t Teddy’s I was trying to buy,” Sean said quietly, almost too softly for Scott to hear. “It was yours.”

Scott’s eyes burned, and the lump that formed in his throat was the size of a Christmas turkey. “You never had to buy my affection, Sean. You’re my brother and I love you, whether you’re here or five thousand miles away. I just wish we got to see you more. It’s hard when you blow in and out of town. Knowing you’re going to leave as quickly as you arrived? It makes it difficult for me to get attached when you’re here, because I know you’re going to leave again, and who knows when I might see you next?”

Sean nodded. “That’s fair. What if I told you I have an idea that means we’ll see each other all the time?” Sean stuck his tongue in his cheek, and under Scott’s porch lights, his eyes danced. “You’re going to think it’s the worst idea I’ve ever had, but bear with me.”

“Okay,” Scott said slowly, a little worried.

“As part of my job, I consult with a lot of startups and small businesses.” Sean twisted in his seat and faced him, his hands gesturing as he talked. “Most of these have been international, but I’m going to be bringing my work stateside. One of the things startups often need is a lawyer to help them navigate the legalities of their business. When I can, I refer them to a friend or acquaintance I’ve met on my travels. But here?”

Scott’s heart kicked up in excitement even as he told it to slow the fuck down.

“What if we worked together?” Sean continued. “I provide the business consulting. You provide the legal consulting. It’s a win-win.”

Instead of jumping on the opportunity like he wanted to—there were so many things to consider—Scott said, “Remember when we played hide and seek when we were kids, and you hid in a plastic bin like I couldn’t see right through it?”

“We said we’d never talk about that again,” Sean whisper-shouted.

“This idea is worse than that.”

“Fuck you,” Sean said, but he was laughing. “You’re not even going to think about it?”

“I’m already thinking about it,” Scott admitted. “I’m thinking my knowledge of business law dates back to law school. I’m thinking how I’m only barred to practice in Illinois. I’m thinking?—”

“Technicalities,” Sean interrupted with a wave of his hand. “Give it some serious thought, okay? If you decide you’re genuinely interested, then we can talk about the obstacles.”

“You’re serious about this.”

“Yeah. It’ll be fun.”

“We’ll bicker at every turn.”

“Yeah. Like I said—fun.”

Scott couldn’t help it—he chuckled, laughing harder when Sean joined in.

“Uh . . . sorry to interrupt.”

The deep voice had Scott’s heart going all pitter-patter in his chest.

There, at the bottom of his porch steps, was a hunky hockey director and his NHL dogs.

“Ooh. Hi, babies.” Sean rose and squatted at the top step. “Hi.”

Yager and Rory approached, tails wagging. Kinsey gave Sean a very human I’m not buying what he’s selling look.

Smart dog.

“Want to come inside?” Sean cooed. “Come play with Fallon and Teddy.” He managed to coax all three dogs inside, though Kinsey went with a very put-upon huff.

As the door closed behind them, Hank climbed the steps and dropped a quick kiss on Scott’s mouth. “Hey.”

“Hey. What’d you bring?” Scott asked, nodding at the dishes in Hank’s hands.

“These—” Hank held up the small Tupperware. “—are homemade salmon treats for Fallon. And these—” He held up the covered glass dish. “—are brownies for you. And Teddy and Sean, I guess, but if you want to hide them and keep them for yourself, I won’t tell anyone.”

There went Scott’s heart again, less pitter-patter and more ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump. He leaned over the dishes to kiss Hank again. “Thank you. How was your day?”

Hank thought about that for a moment, his gaze going distant. “Pretty good, actually. You?”

“Also pretty good. Want to tell me about it?”

“Yeah. I do.”

So they sat in the Adirondack chairs while the snow continued to fall gently, sharing a slice of brownie between them while the scent of pizza wafted out to them, and the dogs barked merrily, and Teddy’s and Sean’s laughter spilled onto the porch from inside.

Scott didn’t know what had thrown Hank into his path after all this time, but he could picture them sitting here in the spring when the flowers began to bloom, and in the summer when Teddy ran through the sprinkler with the dogs, and in the fall when the leaves began to turn and pumpkins began to adorn porches.

And in another winter, with Christmas lights twinkling like stars everywhere they looked and the sound of carolers approaching.

Rinse and repeat. Over and over and over.

But slowly, of course.