Scout couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re lucky I’m not one of those people who hate feet.”
Clay laughed. He sounded as happy as Scout felt. “If you were, I’d still touch you with them just to annoy you.”
Damn, his face hurt from all the fucking smiling. “Fuck, dude. We’re about to have the best life together.”
Clay’s smile slipped away.
Scout watched the discomfort take over every inch of Clay. A bad feeling squeezed his gut. “What?” He sounded more demanding than he meant, but fuck. Scout thought they had decided they were together.
A sad smile touched Clay’s lips and disappeared just as quickly. “You heard Beau. He wants me to stay here, and—seriously—I’ll go or stay wherever you are. But I have to admit, I want to stay. Living here has been my secret dream since the first time Beau brought me here. It’s beautiful and peaceful. At least it was until I was forced to kill a bunch of people, but I really think that was a one-off. Not to mention, as dumb as it might sound, this kind of feels like my dad giving me a gift.” Clay’s smile slipped as he blushed at the admission; even the hot water couldn’t hide it.
Scout had always had a hard time understanding why Ridge had never given up on Shadow. Even though Scout respected the hell out of Edge, he hadn’t understood why Edge humbled the fuck out of himself with Mickey. He hadn’t thought he would ever feel that much for anyone. In fact, he hadn’t understood what they felt at all. Looking at Clay now, practically begging Scout to choose him, everything was clear. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Clay. That included leaving his family.
Scout tried to smile, but the moment felt too pivotal. “I only let you give me that entire rundown because I think you needed it off your chest. Obviously, I still haven’t figured out how to express myself well when it comes to emotional things. Still, I thought you understood we stick together now. I go where you go and stay where you stay. You deserve this promotion and beautiful life here.”
Clay bit his bottom lip. His expression screamed guilt. “Now I feel like I’m coming between your brothers and you. Like I’m making the decision to tear you apart.”
He swore Clay wouldn’t stop looking for cracks. It was slowly sinking in that Clay was even more insecure about this relationship than he let on.
Scout held out his hand. Clay accepted and moved to his side of the tub. He had to sit half on Scout’s lap for them to fit, but that was the point. Scout needed to hold Clay. He kissed Clay’s collarbone. “Please stop trying to convince yourself I don’t want you forever. I may be emotionally ignorant, but I know my heart. Plus, you heard Beau. They’ll be here half or more of the year. The guys can come if they want, and you know they will. We’ll still see each other. They’d never expect me to choose them in this situation. Edge and Field have already pretty much announced they’d choose their husbands if put in that position. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
Clay stared at him like his entire life hinged on Scout’s every word. “You really want this, don’t you?”
Scout couldn’t stop his eye roll if he tried. “I’m about two seconds away from drowning you.”
A smile snapped to Clay’s lips. “Damn. It didn’t take long for you to be ready to commit murder.” He shifted and straddled Scout’s lap. His expression turned vulnerable, but he never looked away from Scout. “I love you.”
Scout didn’t hesitate to return the words. “I love you too.” He smiled. “Honestly, you’ll probably get sick of me saying that.”
Clay lowered his head. “Never.”
When their lips met, the world shifted and clicked into place. Scout would never be alone again. Soon they would be practically alone in paradise—just them and this beautiful thing they built. He had never wanted to cry, laugh, and shout like he did at that moment. Scout had a genuine future headed his way. Thank fuck.
Chapter Eleven
Aftersevenweeksofloud dinners, laughter, and pool parties, as much as Clay enjoyed himself, he was ready for some quiet. It had been really nice, though. The Agafonov brothers had always made him feel like one of them. What Clay hadn’t been prepared for was an overly relaxed Beau treating him like a son. Truth be told, he had a secret he would take to the grave. There was a lie he had kept up his entire life and always would. He had always seen Beau as a father. That admission—even to himself—was a bit humiliating. He was part of an army of people who would die for Beau. Well, the leader of an army now. Not that his exact position mattered. He wasn’t supposed to need a family. Clay was supposed to be one of those men who kept their emotions bottled. But Beau had always treated him a lot like his sons, and that mattered to Clay. Clay didn’t have Beau’s sons’ money and freedom. But in a drunken, drug-induced state once, back when Tabitha had still been alive and Beau had gone through a phase of joining her on the high side, Beau had told Clay something he likely didn’t even recall. Beau told Clayhe loved him like one of his own. He was sorry Clay hadn’t been given the same life as Boone and Banks, but in the heart, he thought he had ruined them by spoiling them. They were addicts, like their mom, and didn’t appreciate what they had. Of course, that was several years ago, long before Banks and Boone got their lives together. The three were still trying to work their way back to each other, but they hadn’t given up. Clay knew they would be fine. Sometimes healing took a long time. In their case, they each had a lot to be sorry about and a ton of forgiveness to dish out. Clay had always been grateful to be left out of that mess, but yeah. Clay had carried that confession in his chest ever since. He didn’t have a family. Clay wanted as much as he could get.
Tonight, he felt like a bit of an intruder. The Agafonov brothers sat in a big circle with their spouses along for the ride. It was their last night together before they left a brother behind.
Tracker stood. He held a bundle of envelopes. “It was probably shitty of me to hang on to these DNA results until the last minute. Honestly, I’m a little scared to share them. We’ve always been family without knowing our blood ties. I don’t want that to change.”
“Family isn’t blood,” Field said, cutting in.
Henry squeezed the shoulders of his massive, red-haired goofball husband. “Field is right. No amount of DNA can replace the life you all have shared. Blood won’t change what no one can break.”
A round of “damn straight” and other agreements grumbled through the room.
Tracker took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, here we go.” He moved from person to person, passing out sealed envelopes of results. He handed one to Clay. Clay’s name was written on the outside and everything.
His fingers automatically closed around the envelope, but his confusion couldn’t be hidden. “What’s this?”
Tracker winked. “I didn’t want you to feel left out.”
To his shame, Clay went a little dim-witted at that wink. Tracker looked exactly like a really hot news anchor. He was always dressed on point and his hair was perfectly styled. Yet he looked completely comfortable in his high-dollar casual office attire.
A nervous-sounding laugh escaped Clay. “I’m a little scared to ask how you got my DNA.”
Tracker’s smile was filled with humor. He winked again and went back to his seat, where Zeus openly waited for his return.
