Chapter Eleven
Picking the Knot
Lying on the bed, Oliver turned the ring box over in his hand and tried to ignore the dread building inside him. He had hoped that getting changed and washed up after dealing with the corpses would help, but he couldn’t stop dwelling. He had been foolish for assuming the Aldorhaven case would be nothing more than a vampire panic, and worst of all, his foolhardiness had convinced Gwen to come. Now, he had to worry about the woods or something hiding in the corpses killing herandFelipe. Both were perfectly capable people, but Oliver hadn’t anticipated nearly dying in that creepy cathedral when he and Felipe had gone after Newman and the priest months ago. Bad things happened easily and quickly, and the way Felipe had been staring at the woods scared him. Oliver clenched his fist but let it drop onto the mattress. He shouldn’t have agreed to the case. He had gone thirty-seven years without knowing anything about his father’s family or his mother’s time in Aldorhaven. He should have just let sleeping skeletons lie.
On top of that, everything felt wrong. The collar of his shirt was too tight, the mattress was too soft, the noise outside the window wasn’t right, the smell of chicken and dumplings coming up through the floor was too much, and all he wanted was to curl around Felipe like a snail in a shell, but they probably couldn’t do that either. He could manage to still sleep alone after doing so for all of his life, yet sleeping half a foot away from Felipe without being able to touch him after nine months together was like asking him not to breathe. He had even brought the engagement ring with him in case he found some picturesque spot to propose, like that would ever happen in this godawful place. Foolish, foolish, foolish.
Throwing an arm over his face to block out the light, Oliver tried to slow his breathing enough for his chest to loosen. Keeping it together while inspecting the five bodies had been easy; he was merely doing the same job he did every day at the society. It wasn’t until he finished and couldn’t go back to his room that the day’s strangeness hit him all at once. He was in a new place with people he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t be able to truly relax until they left. At the creak of the bedroom door, Oliver stuffed the ring under his pillow as Felipe strolled in. His gaze flickered over Oliver’s face and form where he lay sprawled across the bed. Biting back a rakish grin, he put his finger to his lips and set the lock.
“Dinner should be ready in a few minutes. In the meantime…” Toeing off his shoes, Felipe soundlessly climbed onto the bed and straddled Oliver’s lap even as he mouthed silent protests. “He’s busy, and we’re not going any further than this.”
Kissing Oliver slowly, Felipe cupped his cheek and drew him closer until they were chest to chest. What little resolve he had left dissolved with each press of Felipe’s lips and hands to his skin. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this. Not the kisses or subtle sluice of arousal but the comfort of having Felipe close. Of someone he could merely exist with. Oliver wrapped his arms tightly around him and inhaled the familiar scent of his aftershave as Felipe kissed his forehead and lids before returning to his lips as if he could make up for all thetimes they didn’t touch that day. Leaning into his palm, Oliver shut his eyes and tried to ignore the burning behind them.
At the first hitch of Oliver’s breath, Felipe leaned back to take in his face before hugging him tightly. “What’s wrong?” he whispered without letting go.
Releasing a tremulous breath, Oliver went limp against his shoulder. When juxtaposed against the case, it all sounded so trivial. People were dying, and he couldn’t handle the smell of perfectly good food because he couldn’t sleep in his own bed or kiss Felipe whenever he wanted.
“I’m dreading dinner. Maybe I’m just hungry, but everything’s too much. I’ve grown accustomed to eating with only people I know. A restaurant’s anonymous but eating with a stranger is hard. You don’t care if I don’t speak or talk too much, and you don’t comment when my face or hands don’t do the right thing. Mr. Allen seems like a decent person, but… you know how it is. And then, today was a lot, and we can’t be how we usually are for days. It’s all hard for me.” A slightly histrionic laugh escaped his lips. “It’s only the first day, and I’m already—”
Felipe shushed him and rubbed his back in long, firm strokes. “I know, love, but it will go quickly. We can still sneak the occasional kiss or caress here and there, and if we wake up wrapped around each other, oh well. It happens to people who share a bed, even if they have no interest in the other person. All the same, I’ll make sure the door is locked at night. So far, I think you’ve done very well considering the circumstances.”
“I snapped at the mayor,” Oliver croaked.
“He deserved it.”
“He shouldn’t have talked to you and Gwen like that.”
“By the time you did that, I had already implied that he tried to murder his wife, so no harm done.”
“You did?” When Felipe nodded, Oliver sighed against him. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Felipe replied, the grin obvious in his voice evenif Oliver couldn’t see it. “While I was downstairs, I asked Mr. Allen if we could use the dining room to discuss the case after dinner, and he said it was fine. Once we share our findings and figure out the plan for tomorrow, we can settle in for the night and unwind. If you think dinner will be too much for you, I can always bring you a plate and call you down when we’re ready for the meeting.”
As tempting as it sounded, Oliver would rather be with Felipe and Gwen than alone. Pulling back, Oliver kissed Felipe and pushed a walnut curl from his forehead. “I can muddle through dinner, but thank you. The whole family thing is weighing on me too. I keep thinking, what if they’re awful people? I know I never need to tell anyone else, but I’ll know. I just hope it isn’t the mayor.”
Felipe barked a laugh. “I somehow doubt you’re related to Mayor Stills.”
“I could be. You never know. By the way, did you ever write back to your family?” Oliver asked. At Felipe’s features falling, Oliver stammered, “I don’t care if you didn’t. I mean, I do. I’m sorry. I—”
“It’s fine, Oliver, and no, I didn’t do it yet. I probably should have before we left, but I need to be in the right frame of mind to get it right.”
Oliver wasn’t certain what he meant. Oliver knew there was something left unsaid that he didn’t truly understand. Part of him wanted to ask Felipe, but mostly, he wanted to pull Felipe on top of him and kiss him until the pensive notch between his brows loosened and he forgot all about his family. Before he could lie back, the door rattled in its frame like it was caught in a hurricane.
“Dinner’s ready!” Gwen called from the other side.
Pressing his forehead to Oliver’s, Felipe lingered in his lap a moment longer before flopping onto his back beside him. Oliver twined his fingers with Felipe’s and brought his hand to his lips. Whatever happened in Aldorhaven or with their families, as long as they were together, they would be all right.
***
Dinner with Mr. Allen hadn’t been nearly as bad as Oliver feared. The chicken and dumplings were plainer than Oliver was accustomed to, but everything tasted good, even if Oliver was mildly concerned that meat and vegetables grown in Aldorhaven might be contaminated by magic that would turn them into lotus-eaters. Mr. Allen seemed aware of the weirdness of the place, so Oliver had to assume the food wouldn’t hurt them. While they ate, Mr. Allen told them all about his favorite horse, Rasmus, and some of his less gruesome war stories. In return, Gwen told him all about the New York Paranormal Society’s librarians and the most recent book drama. With Argos snuffling Oliver’s hand and thumping his stubby tail against the floor as he waited at Lewis Allen’s side for a scrap of chicken, it felt homey, almost like when they had Sunday dinners with Louisa and Agatha. Once the dinner plates were cleared away and Mr. Allen retreated to the kitchen, Argos threw himself beside the door in a snoring heap.
Glancing toward the kitchen, Felipe confirmed the door was shut before spreading his notes across the tabletop. Oliver and Gwen followed suit, conferring quietly on what details needed to be updated or clarified before they began. At Felipe’s nod, Oliver cleared his throat and was about to start when Mr. Allen bustled in with a pot of tea and a stack of cups.
“I was wondering if I could join you and hear what you’ve discovered. The first set of investigators shut me out, but I’d like to help you all in any way I can, like answering any questions you have about the town or the dead,” Mr. Allen said hopefully as he set the food down.
Oliver and Gwen looked to Felipe, who frowned thoughtfully.
“One moment, please.” Coming to the other side of the table, Felipe leaned between them and dropped his voice as he said, “I know it’s unorthodox, but do you all have any objections?”
