Damien snorted. “Occupied?xV, you’re getting married tomorrow in a tropical paradise—you don’t have to pretend like you weren’t going at it like rabbits.”
xV cleared his throat. “Anyway, if you haven’t seen or heard from him, I think he may have already headed for the wharf. I could use some company if you’re headed my way.”
It was just like xV to be modest. Damien chuckled, patted him on the arm, and nodded over his shoulder. “Yeah, of course I’ll keep you company. Let’s go. I cut a deal with Glit—he brings me the ammo, and I help him haul his luggage back to the bures. I don’t know why he’d need an extra set of hands, what with his harem of capable men and all, but I’m not asking questions.”
“You’re serious?” xV’s brows flattened. He shot Damien a look of total incredulity. “Knot, if you glitter bomb my wedding—”
“God help me, I know.” Damien tucked his hands into his pockets and led the way to the wharf. “You won’t have anything to worry about, xV. The only thing that’ll be glittering at your wedding is your love for your groom… and Gwynn, once I’ve hosed him down with glitter. Maybe.” Damien took a second to reflect on that statement. “Probably.”
With a heavily heaved sigh, xV followed. “I’m going to have to put you in time out, aren’t I?”
“I mean, you don’thaveto.”
“Like the cactus?”
“Exactlylike the cactus.”
Damien tilted his chin until he was looking at the cloudless sky. A sense of peace washed through him. It was good that he was here—good that he’d unplugged from work, no matter how unwittingly. When was the last time he’d stopped to take a breath? To appreciate the sunset? To let his mind dwell on the little things?
Like a silhouette visible through sheer curtains, thoughts of Matthew flitted into focus. They never stayed for long, but the glimpses Damien got were tantalizing. It wasn’t often that thoughts of work fell by the wayside for things that brought Damien pleasure.
And Matthew? He might have been Gwynn’s son, but just the sight of his large, innocent eyes made Damien feel alive.
Cognizant of the fact that he was spacing out, Damien rolled his head to the side to look at xV. “By the way, please don’t fuck me with a cactus.”
A hint of mischief perked the corners of xV’s lips. “I’m about to be a married man, Knot. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“But is the cactus married?” A thought occurred, and Damien stopped on the spot, his eyes wide. “Oh fuck, don’t tell me that the cactus is single.”
The mischief on xV’s face grew.
“NO.” Damien held out a hand. “I forbid it. The cactus is happily married, xV. I’m putting my foot down. Not only that, but it’s a straight cactus. We’re talking as straight as an arrow, as straight as a ruler, as straight—but not as crispy—as a high school girl’s hair after three hours in the bathroom before her big date. It’s got a cactus wife and five beautiful cactuslings back at home. It goes out during the day looking for asses to fuck so it can put food on the table, but itin no wayis single and looking for love. I amnotabout to be reamed up the ass by the cactus of my dreams and fall head over heels in love.”
“I’m not saying you will.” xV shrugged. It could have been Damien’s imagination, but he was almost certain he heard xV chuckle. “The cactus could still be single. Maybe it’s not interested in you. Maybe, after it’s done with your posterior, it’ll go on to meet the love of its life and end up married.”
Damien flattened his expression. “I’m not letting a plant beat me to my happily ever after.”
“TD was almost a plant.” xV kept walking, sparing a quick glance over his shoulder at Damien as he went. “He’ll be getting married in a little less than two months from now. If we stick his face on a palm frond like you suggested, a plantcouldbeat you to a happily ever after.”
Not wanting to be left behind, Damien sprinted down the walkway to catch xV. “Nope, not happening.”
“What if the cactus and TD as a plant fall in love?”
“I…” Damien caught up and slowed to a comfortable pace. “Well, fuck. At this point, I wouldn’t doubt it.”
xV chuckled. “I’ll plan the wedding. I’m thinking Arizona, so the cactus’ family can be there for the big day.”
Ahead, a voice shouted, “Dibs on the catering.”
Damien perked up. They’d managed to catch up with Gwynn. He wore a pair of mauve swim trunks and a loose white tank top, his hair still wet from the ocean. The distance between them concealed most of his finer details, but Knot would recognize that placenta-sharing bastard anywhere.
God, was he a sight for sore eyes.
Grinning, Damien lifted his hand over his head and waved. Gwynn waved back. Despite the glitter war yet to be waged, seeing his friends for the first time in years hit Damien hard. Joy crystallized in his chest. In New York, there was no time for physical friendship—what little spare time Damien had, he spent asleep or, if he could swing it, with his family.
But the Single Dads were family, too.
Seeing them was like coming home after a decade spent lost.
