Both husbands smiled gently.
Noah scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m scared.”
“Of what?” Liam asked.
“That I’m reading too much into it,” Noah said. “That I’ll screw it up. That the town will get invested again, and?—”
Mark touched his forearm. “This town loves you. Not because of Tyler. Not because of drama. Just because you belong here.”
Liam nodded. “And they’re not waiting for you to find someone. They’re waiting for you to be happy.”
Noah’s throat tightened.
“And if Eli makes you smile the way you’re smiling right now?” Mark beamed. “Then they’ll be thrilled.”
Noah stared at him. “I’m smiling?”
Mark snorted. “You look as if someone told you Christmas got extended through February.”
“Or as if you found a cute guy in a hardware store,” Liam added.
Noah threw a kitchen towel at him. “Guys, I say this with love, okay? You have got to stop this acting in unison shit. You do it all the time, and it’s seriously creepy. It’s as if you share the same brain.”
They laughed, but it was the light kind.
The healing kind.
Dinner was a success, a blend of warm food, easy conversation, and gentle teasing. Mark and Liam didn’t push or pry. They simply let Noah feel safe.
That safe feeling extended beyond their front door as he left to walk home through the snow. Mark offered to give him a ride, but Noah wanted to think.
Snow whispered through the trees as Noah walked, crunching beneath his boots. Mapleford glowed in the quiet way only small towns did at night, its shop windows dim, its streetlamps haloed in frost, wreaths swaying in the cold breeze.
He’d left Mark and Liam’s house feeling full in a way he hadn’t felt in years. It hadn’t been because of pot roast or laughter, or even because they’d been so stubbornly, lovingly supportive, but because of the truth he’d finally said out loud.
He wanted something with Eli.
Something real.
Something new.
He wasn’t sure what it would look like. He wasn’t even sure he deserved it.
But for the first time in a long time, he wanted to try.
When he reached home, he went into his back room and flicked on the small lamp over his desk. Warm light bloomed across the woodgrain.
Noah pulled out a fresh string of lights, his hands already remembering tomorrow’s tasks, his mind drifting ahead. He imagined Eli standing beside him, his breath fogging the winter air, his fingers brushing Noah’s. He imagined the moment that almost happened in the community center. And for the first time since Tyler left, Noah didn’t feel the tightness in his chest.
Instead, he felt possibility, bright, unreasonable, and hopeful.
The feeling left him a little stunned.
“Tomorrow,” he murmured to the empty room. “Please don’t let me make an idiot of myself.”
Chapter Nine
The back entranceof the community center was half-buried in snow, the heavy door propped open so volunteers could haul in more boxes of lights. Noah shook his head.
