That settled, everyone snapped into motion, getting the boat unmoored and into its channel lane. The ceremony at sea was quieter than the one at the docks but no less joyful, and even a little funny, as Irish wakes tended to be. Edye read from the book about the old family dog that Erin had written in second grade, each of them adding their own memories and anecdotes. Then each member of the family, Nic included, tossed a handful of her ashes into the water. They dissolved in the foam of the ship’s wake, and the seagulls that swooped alongside the boat cawed and rose higher, lifting up each bit of her soul that was set free.
She and his family were finally, truly at peace.
They drifted and told stories, remembering their sister for another hour or so before aiming the boat back to shore. Ken sat with Edye on her bench, surrounded by their grandchildren, while Quinn and Bobby, with their wives and Keith, toasted to the future in the wheelhouse.
Cam went looking for his future, finding Nic standing at the front of the boat. Arms spread along the rail, hair swept back by the breeze and sea mist, he looked at home out here on the sea. Cam, however, wanted to talk to him about making a different sort of home, with him.
Coming up behind him, Cam wound his arms around his waist and rested his chin on Nic’s shoulder. “Quinn wanted to know how I became the best fisherman in the family.”
“I’ve never even seen you catch a fish.”
“He meant catching you.” Cam dropped a kiss behind his ear, and Nic hummed contentedly.
Then spun, bringing them front to front and pinning Cam against the rail, reminding him of the strength and training that lay beneath the suit, or scowl as it were just then. “It sure as fuck wasn’t your taste in sports teams,” he said, flicking Cam’s green Celtics polo in exaggerated disgust.
Cam returned the gesture, flicking the collar of the maroon shirt Nic had borrowed. “Says the man wearing my BC polo.”
He smirked. “We can’t all be perfect.”
Cam grabbed a handful of his shirt and jerked him forward. “Come here, you smug bastard.” Off balance, as Cam intended, Nic stumbled into him and Cam sealed their lips in a rough, hard kiss.
A round of wolf whistles sounded behind them, and they broke apart, grinning.
“Thank you for asking me to come with you,” Nic said.
Letting go of the shirt, Cam smoothed his hands up Nic’s firm chest and around his neck. “You said I’m your family.”
Nic circled his wrists, squeezing. “Last time I’ll ask, I swear, but are you sure you want to risk all this, your old life here and your new one in San Francisco, for me? With all the shit swirling around with Vaughn and my father, I wouldn’t blame?—”
Cam leaned forward again, a quick kiss to stop Nic’s careening arguments. He pulled back but stayed close enough to feel Nic’s stuttered breath on his lips. “You risked your life for me. For the peace my family here needed. Now if I want to do the same for the man I love, let me.”
The kiss Nic laid on him then wasn’t quick or chaste, and they won more applause and Edye’s laughing shout of “get a room.”
Cam came up for air, smiling wide. “Come home with me, Dominic.”
Nic’s usual confidence bordering on arrogance vanished, eyes darting from his shoes to their hands and back. He was laid bare before Cam and an audience. “Are you saying the offer still stands?” He swallowed hard, summoning what he could and meeting Cam’s eyes. “To move in with you?”
Cam breathed a sigh of relief, a sigh of pure joy. “There’s no place I’d rather you be.”
Twenty-Six
Sitting midway down the first baseline at the ballpark, Nic stared out over the field, past the giant mitt and Coke bottle slide to the tankers and sailboats crowding the rippling waters of the Bay. Indian summer was still going strong—bright sun, warm temps, a good breeze. Not much had changed during his time in Boston or during the week since returning.
But it had been more than enough time for Nic’s whole world to change.
Mostly for the better, which scared him far more than the leftover bad parts. He had so much to lose now—a new home, a family of trusted friends, a lover he didn’t want to hide from. The mess with his father and Vaughn could steal all that good away at any second, which was why he was here today.
That and the killer craving for caramel corn that always struck him this time of year, right before the season ended as if his taste buds knew the sticky sweetness was about to disappear again for six months.
“That shit will rot your teeth out.”
Nic glanced right, down the empty club level row—a day game the last week of a losing season didn’t draw a crowd—and saw Aidan shuffling toward him, tie gone and already half out of his suit coat.
Grinning, Nic bent the opposite direction and came back up with another box of freshly popped, gooey-tossed goodness. “So you don’t want the one I got for you?”
Aidan smirked as he tossed his coat over Nic’s on the seat backs in front of them. “I didn’t say that.” He dropped into the seat beside Nic, rolled up his sleeves, and claimed his prize. “Nice seats,” he mumbled around a bite.
“Perks of being a shiny new vendor.”
