He flips through the guest book while I glance around the lobby, so different from how I remember it. Every corner is thoughtfully decorated, but it doesn’t feel forced; it’s lived in, like there were homemade cookies here sometime in the last twenty-four hours.
“You passing through?” Liam asks casually. “Or staying a bit?”
I hesitate, then shake my head. “Actually, I think I’m back for good. Grew up here. Haven’t been back in…well, a while.”
Liam’s brows lift. “No kidding? What brought you home?”
I shrug. “Time. Some things fell into place, others fell apart. Figured it was time to stop being a stranger.”
Before he can respond, the front door blasts open in a gust of snow and the crash of booted feet.
“Luuuucyyyyy, I’m home!” a deep voice bellows, leaning into the camp. A bearded mountain of a man stomps in, carrying a stack of firewood under one arm, grinning like he just won a prizefight. Flannel, snow-dusted boots, windburned cheeks. Then he strides straight up to Liam and plants a kiss on him that’s just shy of indecent.
Liam rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, breathless when they break apart. “Mal, we have a guest,” Liam mumbles, cheeks pink.
Mal grins wider. “I see that.” He turns to me, tugging off his gloves and offering a hand. “Mal. I handle the horses, the broken stuff, and pretty much anything else the rest of them throw at me.”
“Miles,” I say, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“He’s a local,” Liam adds, smoothing his shirt, most likely out of habit more than necessity. “Back in town after a while away.”
Mal’s brows lift. “Well, well. A prodigal queer returns.”
“That obvious?” I say with a half-laugh.
Mal gives me a once-over that’s not lewd so much as practical. “You’ve got the vibe.”
I blink. “Uh… thanks?”
Mal grins. “Let me guess… you handy?” I can’t tell exactly what he means by that, but judging by the eyeroll and groan from Liam it’s safe to assume Mal is a shit-starter. I like him already. Not wanting to make it too easy on him, I go for the oblivious answer.
“Used to do construction. Bit of everything,” I say with a shrug.
Mal tilts his head, eyeing me. “Staying long?”
“Hopefully,” I say. “Just figuring it out.”
Mal rubs his hands together, cheeks still pink from the cold, and leans a hip against the desk. “So, what brings you back, Miles?”
I shrug, tugging off my gloves. “Midlife crisis?” I offer with a lopsided grin.
Liam snorts. “Aren’t you a little young for that?”
“Depends on how long you plan to live.” I glance between the two of them. “But yeah. Things kind of reset recently. Layoff.Lease ended. Family stuff wrapped up. Just felt like the right time to come home.”
Mal folds his arms, still watching me, not unkindly. “No family still here?”
I shake my head. “Mom moved to Florida last year. My sister’s in Boston. I was the only idiot who ever talked about coming back.”
Liam leans against the counter. “And now you did. That takes guts.”
“Or poor impulse control,” I say. “I’m still figuring out which.”
That gets a laugh from both of them.
Mal gestures toward the side room. “You want a coffee? Tea? Cocoa?”
“Coffee’d be great, actually.”
