Lazlo frowned. “Do you have somewhere safe to go?”
There was a hitch in his breath. “I’ll figure it out,” he said, a nonanswer.
I looked over at Lazlo, and our eyes met, coming to an unspoken agreement. August had nowhere to go, no money, no resources. “You’re coming home with us,” I said, and my heart gave a little stutter at how I’d so easily said “us” as if him falling asleep on my couch once meant it was already Lazlo’s home too.
August seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he shook his head adamantly. “Oh, no, I can’t invade your home like that. You two don’t need me there.”
“Oh, we’re not… I mean, I’m not,” Lazlo stammered, blushing. “That is to say, we don’t live together. We’re not…” He couldn’t seem to force himself to say out loud that we weren’t a couple, because… maybe we were.
August continued to protest, though pretty weakly, all the way to my SUV, where Lazlo ushered him into the backseat with Mia.“I don’t want to be a burden,” he tried again as I drove toward the outskirts of the city.
“You’re not a burden, you’re a gift,” I said, glancing at him through the rear-view mirror. His cheeks pinked up, and he looked down at his lap to hide a small smile.
He gave one last attempt to weasel his way out of our care as I carried the car seat in through the front door. August followed meekly behind, and Lazlo walked behind him as though to stop him from running. He was still recovering, and we didn’t want him to hurt himself. He came to a halt in the entryway. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Really. But I can’t stay here in your home.” His eyes roamed past me to take in what he could see of the living room, and there was no mistaking the longing on his face. No matter what he said, he wanted to be here.
“Are you afraid of us?” I asked him point blank.
He didn’t hesitate to shake his head, and I allowed myself to relax a little. “I just don’t want to impose. I’m sure I can go back to the shelter and—”
“Out of the question. Youcanstay here, and youwill.” I stepped closer, until he had to tilt his head back to look up at me. I softened my voice, even as the alpha in me demanded his obedience. I forced down the instinct to keep, to claim. He’d been through enough without having to deal with my controlling attitude. “You’re not a prisoner here, August. You can leave whenever you want, but please don’t feel like you’re not welcome. Okay? We want you here. You and Mia are safe, and we will do everything we can to keep you that way.”
He looked back at Lazlo, and he nodded in encouragement. Finally, August sighed—in resignation or relief—and agreed. “Okay, but I’m going to help out with housecleaning while I’m here.”
“We’ll see.” That was as close as I would get to agreeing with him on that. He was still healing, and if I had it my way, he would continue to be on bedrest for at least another week. I trusted Lazlo’s judgment on August’s health.
I’d originally set the guest room up for Lazlo, so the sheets were already clean. The old wood floors creaked as I led the way up the stairs and pushed the bedroom door open. There was another spare room downstairs, but I wanted him somewhere close by in case he needed anything in the night.
This was why I’d wanted my parents’ big farmhouse in the first place, to fill with comfort and love, offering a home to anyone who needed it. So far, it’d only been foster kids, but it was clear that August needed a soft place to land, and I wanted to be it. Ineededto be.
I gestured toward the dresser. “There are clothes in there for you. I didn’t know what you liked, so I might’ve gone a little overboard. Anything you don’t want, we can always donate it. There’s also plenty of food in the kitchen, please help yourself to anything. I cook most nights, so if you have any allergies or food aversions, just let me know. We keep a shopping list on the fridge, so if you want anything we don’t have, just add it to the list.”
Lazlo took over next, laying out the pill containers on the top of the dresser. “You need to take this one twice a day, but make sure you take it with food because it can cause stomach upset. These ones are for pain; up to two pills every eight hours, but if that’s not enough, tell me, okay? Don’t take more than the dosage.”
I pulled a new cell phone out of my pocket and set it next to the pills. “I noticed you didn’t have a phone, but I wanted you to be able to text or call anyone, figured maybe you have some family who might miss you. I programmed both my and Lazlo’s numbers in there for you as well.”
It was clear we were overwhelming him, as he wrapped his arms around his waist and shrank in on himself, so I told myself I’d done enough for now. Poor August looked like a scared little lamb, all wide eyes, skin still flushed, either with nerves or fever, and I reached out to brush my fingers over his forehead to make sure it wasn’t the latter. He froze under my touch, and I jerked my hand back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…” But he didn’t turn and run like I suspected he was considering, so that was something.
I nodded to Lazlo, and we turned toward the door. “We’ll let you get some rest.” On the way out of the room, I paused and looked back, hand on the doorknob, and met his eyes. “The door locks from the inside.” I closed it behind me and waited until I heard the click of the lock. I wanted him to feel safe, even if that meant locking me out. Maybe one day he would be comfortable enough to invite us back in.
“He’ll be okay,” Lazlo assured me. “He’s strong.”
I nodded, hoping that was true.
Lazlo hooked a finger through mine and tugged me toward the stairs. “Come on. It’s my turn to cook for you. Show me around the kitchen?”
His care made warmth and comfort blossom inside me, and I smiled for the first time since finding August in the barn. “Sure, but only if you let me help.”
Spendingtimeinthekitchen with someone like this was something I’d never known to wish for. Ever since I moved out on my own, cooking for myself had been a necessity. And then, once I’d started taking in fosters, I’d found it brought me a certain kind of satisfaction, to fill their bellies with nutritiousfood and to surprise them when it also tasted good. Cooking with Lazlo, though, was…fun.
We put on music, and when we couldn’t decide on one genre, we took turns on the playlist. He griped about my 90s rock, and I made a face at his classical, and yet, we both found ways to dance together. Mia, strapped in a sling to my chest, seemed to love dancing too. We talked about everything and nothing, and when Sam came home, he grabbed a carrot and a peeler and pitched in, as if he couldn’t help but want to be around us too. It felt like family.
When August emerged from his room and peeked around the doorframe, Sam’s face lit up. “August, you’re here! You’re okay!” I wouldn’t have gone quite that far, but he did look better than he had. His skin had regained a little bit of color, and his hair was damp from a shower.
“Hey.” August’s gaze flicked up to mine, then Lazlo’s, lingering briefly on Mia in her carrier with longing. I expected him to ask to see her, but instead, he wrung his hands together. He looked almost embarrassed, then he cleared his throat, turning to Sam. “I just wanted to say thank you, Sam, for getting help. It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to keep my secret. You saved my life.”
Sam positively beamed at hearing that. “I did?”
“Absolutely.” He reached out and ruffled Sam’s hair a little awkwardly, as if he didn’t have a lot of experience being around kids. Good thing for him, Sam had plenty of experience befriending adults.
