Finn’s cheeks flushed, and he looked down at his coffee, smiling into it. “I’d like that. A lot.”
A familiar tug tightened in his chest again, quiet and steady. He hadn’t expected this trip to turn into anything real. He hadn’t expected Finn to look at him like that. He hadn’t expected to want more.
But here he was, wanting that.
Finn looked up again, eyes bright. “So… horses, camping, and walking off this train together. Sounds like a good start.”
Maurice reached for his hand again. “It does.”
And for the first time in a long time, Maurice was exactly where he was supposed to be.
Maurice and Finn lingered over the last of the coffee, the pot between them nearly empty. Finn kept smiling at him over the rim of his mug, and every time he did, something deep inside him finally settled into place. He wasn’t used to wanting someone this much, this fast, but there it was. Undeniable.
The intercom crackled overhead.
“Attention passengers,” Mr. Santos announced. “We will stop in Salt Lake City for four hours instead of two. The train needs additional service. Feel free to explore the city.”
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “Four hours?”
Maurice grinned. “More time with you off the train.”
Finn’s cheeks warmed, and Maurice pretended not to notice how much he liked that reaction.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Maurice
They finished their coffeeand stepped off the train into the cool Utah morning. The air hit Maurice first—thin, crisp, carrying that faint bite of altitude he always forgot about until he felt it in his lungs. It smelled like sagebrush warming in the early sun, like dry earth and pine carried down from the Wasatch peaks. There was a wildness to it he couldn’t quite name, something open and untamed that didn’t exist back home.
Finn inhaled, eyes closing for a second as if he’d been waiting for this exact moment. “God,” he murmured, “that smells amazing.”
Maurice watched him breathe it in, the way his shoulders relaxed, the way the morning light caught in his hair. Beyond the station, the mountains rose sharp and blue against the sky, their tops dusted with snow that glowed almost white. Even the light was different here—brighter, clearer, bouncing off the salt flats in the distance and giving everything a soft shimmer.
Maurice tucked his hands into his pockets, feeling strangely grounded and unsteady at the same time. “Yeah,” he said. “It does.”
The breeze carried another hint of sage, a little sharper this time, mixed with the faint mineral smell of the salt crust that clung to the edges of the valley. It was the kind of air that made you want to walk for miles just to see what was over the next rise.
Finn opened his eyes and smiled at him. “I could stay out here all day.”
A tight rush moved through Maurice at the thought. “We’ve got four hours,” he said. “Let’s make the most of it.”
So with the mountains watching over them and the wild Utah morning wrapped around them; they stepped off the platform together.
“Breakfast first,” Maurice said. “You need proper food.”
Finn bumped his shoulder lightly. “You just want to feed me.”
“Maybe,” Maurice said, and Finn laughed.
They found a small diner a few blocks from the station—enormous windows, old booths, the kind of place that served pancakes the size of plates. Finn ordered French toast, Maurice got bacon and eggs with hash browns. They shared bites without thinking about it, and every time Finn leaned in, his warmth shot through Maurice like a spark.
Finn talked more about growing up at their summer home his parents had and about the little trails. He also mentioned the one summer he spent learning to ride horses at a camp. Maurice listened, chin propped on his hand, feeling something warm settle between them. It was easy. Natural. Like they’d been doing this for years instead of days.
With hours to spare, Maurice suggested they take a brief ride outside the city. Finn agreed instantly, eyes lighting up in a way that made Maurice want to keep offering him things just to see that look again.
A quick search on Maurice’s phone and a quick cab ride later, they found a small ranch on the outskirts, nothing fancy, just a few horses, a friendly owner, and a trail that wound through open fields with the mountains in the distance.
Finn looked almost shy as he approached the horse he’d been given, brushing its neck gently. The horse leaned into the touch, and Finn’s face softened in a way that hit Maurice right in the chest.
