Page 41 of The Leaving Kind
“Do you not see your brother much now?” Victor asked.
“I see him often enough.” The lighter smile returned. “I invite myself down there now and again to mess with him. And I work for Oliver, sometimes. That’s his boyfriend. Partner? Significant other? What do you call it when two adults are in a relationship?”
“Lovers?” Victor let one of his eyebrows arch.
Cam snorted.
“So.” Victor tried not to succumb to an up-and-down look, but Cam wasn’t wearing a shirt and his dirt-streaked and tightly muscled skin was on full display. He still smelled enticing. Victor cleared his throat. “We could be having this conversation on the patio. With refreshments.”
“What conversation are we having?”
“Honestly? I’ve lost track. But I do enjoy talking with you.”
Sucking his lower lip into his mouth, Cam considered him for a few second before nodding. “I could use a beer. I suppose.”
“Don’t put yourself out or anything,” Victor returned with a playful smirk.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Cam put his hands out again. “Mind if I clean up a little? I could use the faucet out back again, but some soap would be nice.”
“Come on into the house. There’s a bathroom behind the kitchen.”
While Cam used the bathroom, Victor washed his hands in the kitchen and mopped his face with a damp paper towel. He then glanced down at his T-shirt. It looked as though he’d hugged a tree and then gotten down into the hole with it. Should he change?
Cam emerged from the bathroom, still shirtless.
Victor quickly pulled open the fridge and grabbed two bottles of beer. He handed one to Cam, who inspected the label with an approving nod before twisting off the cap. “Trash?”
Victor held out a hand. Cam dropped the cap there and lifted his bottle in a toast. “Thanks.”
“You are very welcome.”
After disposing of both bottle caps, Victor snagged a box of crackers from the pantry and put together a quick tray of nibbles to go with the fruit. By the time he arrived on the patio, Cam had put his shirt back on (boo) and was seated in the chair closest to the dog. He had a hand on her head and appeared both comfortable and at home.
Victor slid the tray onto the table. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” Ignoring the food, Cam waved around the patio. “You do all of this?”
“The garden or the patio?”
“Both?”
“The garden is a work in progress, mostly finished.” Victor turned in his chair. “When we first bought this house, it was the converted barn, which is the family room, a small library or den, and bedrooms upstairs. What you see from the front. We added this kitchen because the original one was awful and not at all useful. Plus, we had plenty of room to expand.”
“It’s a pretty spot.”
“It is. We planned for the patio back then, and I’ve been planting around it ever since. The same as the rest of the garden. I’ll plant a few things, see how they grow in, and then fill any gaps the following year.” He pointed out the south lawn. “There were more trees there, but when I put the studio on that side of the house, I cleared a few so I’d have enough light.”
“Makes sense. What about the tower?” Cam pointed out the blocky, two-story addition between the kitchen and the studio.
Victor laughed. “It’s so funny you should call it that. Sage, my son, used to call it the tower too. Still does. That’s the main staircase. There used to be one near the front door, but it took up half of the living space and made a mess of the upstairs floorplan, so we moved it back here.”
Cam wore a frown. “You have a son?”
“I do. And a daughter.”
“Were you married?”
“No. Not that I’m against marriage. A friend and I simply decided to have children together. We both wanted them.” Victor smiled to himself at the memory of his and Tez’s “pact” as they’d called it. “You know those movies where best friends declare that if they’re not partnered up by a certain age, they’ll do the deed? It was like that, only we didn’t set an age and we decided we’d rather not get married. We didn’t want to raise our children with that sort of pressure, if that makes sense.”