The Map Home (Collier’s Creek Christmas)

Epilogue

—Moving Day

“Whose idea was this, anyway?” Tad complained as sweat dripped across his forehead and down toward his left eye. He swiped at it with his forearm but was too slow. “Dammit.”

Seeing that it was mid-February in Wyoming, it wasn’t hot out, but moving furniture was hard work.

“Yours,” Dakota said firmly as he gripped the other end of the couch. “One hundred percent yours. We did not need to move. Your old place was just fine.”

“Hmph.” Tad disagreed. “My old place was my place, not our place. If we’re doing this, and we are, we’re starting fresh.”

“Quit stalling and lift up your end of the couch again. It’s not going to walk itself up two flights of stairs.”

They weren’t even changing buildings. A two-bedroom apartment had become available on the top floor, and the manager was letting Tad and Dakota transfer the lease without having to come up with a new deposit. The new-to-them apartment had hardwood flooring, well-maintained casement windows, a nice kitchen that had newer appliances and—Tad’s favorite—they still had a washer and dryer of their own. There was also a view of the town square and the park, and CCs for coffees and pastries was just a leisurely walk away, along with The Chron. And it was only a five-minute drive to the Sheriff’s Office. There were only upsides to staying in the building.

Another plus was that they were close to Curtis’s building. Which meant it was easy for Tad—and now Dakota—to stop by and check in on his older friend.

Friends had offered to help out with the move, but with the exception of the furniture Tad already owned, there wasn’t much else. Dakota had already moved his clothes and belongings to Tad’s over Christmas.

They’d been lucky there too. At the end of January, The Chron had run a story on tenants’ rights in small towns using Collier’s Creek as an example, and Dakota’s landlord had not only decided to speed up repairs but returned rent money in lieu of a civil lawsuit.

“ Fine .” Tad muttered the word the same way Dakota did and was rewarded with a grin, which had been his intent anyway.

After what felt like hours but was only a few minutes, they’d wrestled the couch up the stairs, down the hallway, and in through the apartment door. They’d already agreed that, with the exception of November and December, the couch would live in front of the big windows.

“Perfect,” Tad said as they gently set it down.

“I hate moving,” Dakota said. “Where are the cushions? I want to collapse for the rest of the day. Or ten minutes anyway.”

The cushions were stacked against one wall, and a thought struck Tad when he moved to grab them.

“Because of your mom?” he asked, tossing the cushions down so they could take a breather. He’d never considered how often Dakota might have moved before they met. How disruptive moving was. As a kid, it meant starting at an all new school, probably in a new town, trying to make new friends, maybe losing precious belongings too. It had to make a kid feel powerless.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Dakota toed his shoes off and plopped down with his legs wide and his arms splayed along the back of the couch. “We moved a lot.”

Understatement of the year, Tad figured. Flopping down the long way so he could lay his legs across Kota’s lap, Tad replied, “I didn’t think about the fact that moving might have bad memories for you.”

“Oh, it totally does,” Dakota admitted. Leaning forward, he untied Tad’s sneakers, tugged them off, and dropped them to the floor where they landed with a clunk. Then he peeled off Tad’s socks and tossed those aside too.

“Ew, my feet are all sweaty.” Tad wiggled his toes. After running up and down stairs all morning, it was great to have his feet free of his shoes.

“All of you is sweaty, Tad. I kind of like you that way.”

“I think you’re changing the subject. We’ll never move again,” Tad declared.

An inelegant snort erupted from Dakota’s lips. “You can’t promise me that. I admit, I don’t like moving, and I’m not fond of change either. And it is probably because of my early childhood. But know that I love you, Tad Gillespie. And if that means if you decide to move to somewhere faraway, like Cheyenne or someplace even bigger, to cover big stories, I will be there too. You are my home.”

They’d said the words to each other before. More than once even. But somehow this seemed bigger than the previous times.

Tad bolted to his knees, scrambling over to straddle Dakota’s lap.

“I love you too, Dakota Green, with all my heart. I’ve loved you since forever. I’m so glad you didn’t run away after your mom left. I’ve thought about that night so many times and that, selfishly, I probably wouldn’t have ever found you again. It must have been scary to stay without really knowing me or my family that well, but you did. God, I love you. You’re the bravest person I know.”

Dakota’s lips parted—to argue, no doubt—but Tad quickly set his index finger across them to silence his protest.

“No arguing. You know I’m right anyway. Just… kiss me already.”

With a lazy smile, Dakota wrapped his fingers around the back of Tad’s neck and pulled him close so he could comply with Tad’s request. What Dakota didn’t know was that he was Tad’s home too.

The home of his heart, and he didn’t see anything changing that.

Are you intrigued by Dakota’s half brother Niall and his husband Mat?