I GoogleArcus Securityand follow the directions into town. IthinkI’ve found the right place, but there’s no sign on the building, just a bland office block front. If there’s a secret lair anywhere on this street, it’s this one.
I really hope I’m right. The double pram is heavy and basically a land tank. Steering it is a full-body workout. Good job I left my jacket at home; between the sun and the effort, I’m already warm.
The twins look ridiculously sweet in their matching onesies, though, and people are happy enough to step aside with smiles and ‘double trouble’ comments.
I dig my phone out of my dress pocket and hit Jacob’s name.
“Tippi?” He answers on the first ring, sounding puzzled. His voice is so sexy I get a little stomach flip just from thesound.
“Hey. Your nephews and I were hoping to bring you lunch at your office. What d’you want me to pick up?”
“Oh.” He sounds pleased, but hesitant. “Well, that’s… that’s really nice, but I’m afraid I can’t let you into the premises. Security protocols, you see.”
“Ah.” Boo. But also,intrigued. If the rules are that strict, I definitely want to know more.
“But I can come out and meet you?” he adds quickly, like he’s rushing to plug a leak.
“Cool. We’re near the Alan Turing memorial fountain.”
Foxton is so queer-friendly it makes my heart swell. Year-round rainbow flags, queer icons on plaques, memorials like this one. One of the Foxton Pride festivals I attended is still in my top three of all time.
“Right. I’ll… see you in five minutes?”
“We’ll be here. What are you having?”
“Whatever you’re getting, just order it twice.”
“No allergies?” Always check.
“No. Though I hate mushrooms, if that should come up.”
“No mushrooms. Got it.” I hang up and look down at Ezra as he stirs. “Told you we were going to see Uncle Jacob,” I murmur, stroking his soft cheek. He wriggles contentedly while his brother lets out a tiny snore.
There’s a Thai street food stall a few feet away,so I buy two Som Tums and park myself on the edge of the fountain, rocking the pram with my foot as I start eating.
“Hello.” Jacob’s voice floats over before I see him, uncertain but warm. He comes into view, still in work clothes, and bends to peer into the pram. “Hello, boys.” He greets them like they’re little adults, without cooing or baby talk. It’s oddly charming.
“Hope you like Thai,” I say, holding out his container.
“Love it. That looks terrific, thank you.”
“And, bonus, the container and fork are recyclable.” I nod toward the stall’s proud little chalkboard.
He chuckles. “Even better.” He sits beside me, turns the pram so he can take over rocking duty, and digs in. “Sorry I couldn’t let you in,” he adds. “To do that, I’d have to run a pretty rigorous security background check on you and, well…”
I shrug. “I’ve got nothing criminally interesting to hide, other than my boobs. But it’s a nice day. No biggie.” The breeze is cool, and the way the sun shines is almost kind; I can see why Leo never wants to live anywhere else. If Ihadto pick a base somewhere, Foxton-on-Sea would be a contender. “Oh, by the way,” I add, casually as I can manage, “I’m sticking around a few extra days, though. Just while I figure out where I want to go next.”
I don’t miss the way his face lights up before he very deliberately smooths it back down.
“So, where are you thinking?” he asks.
“Well, I’m torn.” I scoop up more papaya and chili. “I think I mentioned Sicily’s an option. I’ve got friends there, and it’s been a while. Scandinavia’s calling, too; there are some amazing events coming up in Norway. And then this,” I nod at our food, “isdelicious and makes me want to go back to Thailand.”
He shakes his head, smiling a little. “It reallyisthat simple for you, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You go where you feel like, when you feel like.” He sighs softly. “I wish I could be like that.”
