Hilliard drew back as though he’d actually been struck. He reached around for Monty’s other hip, turning him so that his back was against the post. Monty swallowed hard and kept his eyes turned down and away, but Hilliard could still see how they caught the setting sunlight with gathering tears.
“Montgomery,” Hilliard sighed. He cupped the man’s face in his hands but didn’t force any movement. “Would you look at me, please?”
Monty’s eyes flicked up once, away again, and then remained where Hilliard wanted them. Hilliard pressed his lips together and swept his thumbs over Monty’s newly damp cheeks.
“You are the most stubborn, determined man I have ever known. When you get an idea in your head, there’s not a soul alive who could keep you from getting what you want. You’re a charmer, and a flirt, and capital-T trouble, and I am so in love with you that I can hardly stand it sometimes.”
To Hilliard’s relief, Monty snorted out a wet laugh, forcing more tears to streak down his face. Hilliard caught those with his thumbs, too.
“But for the life of me,” he continued, “I cannot understand why you would rather spend our perfectly good evening together moping around instead of telling me what it is that you want.”
Monty leaned his head back far enough for it to rest against the post. Hilliard moved his hands to Monty’s hips, giving him time to pull himself together before he gave his answer.
“You didn’t ask me to stay,” he said finally with a fragile voice. “I wanted you to ask me to stay, and you didn’t.”
Hilliard’s magic twisted in his chest, tearing painfully at his heart over the confession.
“That’s because I know that no matter where you rest your head at night, be it your home or mine, it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. My heart is yours regardless.”
Monty shook his head, dark brows pinching briefly as he said, “My place is not a home. It’s too large, and too empty. Just a house where I keep my things.” He pulled one hand from his trouser pocket and waved it in a sweeping gesture. “This is a home.”
Hilliard welcomed the surge of pride he felt at the words. He’d worked hard for years to achieve exactly that: a warm, comfortable, inviting place where all of the people he cared about wanted to spend time. He’d never imagined it would play a role in his romantic endeavors.
With a grin, he leaned forward and pressed a soft, short kiss to Monty’s pouty lips.
“Then I guess we’d better make it your home, too.”
Monty stared at him, searching Hilliard’s eyes rapidly. It only lasted a few seconds before the words seemed to fully connect. His face crumpled, and then he threw his arms around Hilliard’s neck, squeezing him so tight that Hilliard was afraid he might lose his balance and send them both toppling off the porch. He managed a chuckle and braced one hand on the post, wrapping his other arm around Monty’s back to return the embrace.
“Love you, Hilliard,” Monty mumbled.
“I love you too, sugar,” Hilliard replied. “I always have.”
Monty sniffed back his tears. “Even when I’m trouble?”
“No matter what,” Hilliard soothed, rubbing his back.
They hugged on the porch until the street lamps came on. Monty collected the remnants of their meal to carry inside and barred Hilliard from the kitchen. He instructed him to go read while he took care of the dishes. It took twice as long as it should have, but Monty looked proud of himself when he finally joined Hilliard on the sofa, so Hilliard only smiled.
“I’ll contact the real estate agent who helped me find my house in the morning,” Monty said. “I want to list it as soon as possible.”
“There’s no rush, you know. You can take all the time you need.”
Monty went on as though he hadn’t heard him.
“She can advise me on leaving it furnished or having an estate sale to get rid of everything I don’t want. I think if I sell some of my clothes, I’ll be able to fit them in the closets here. I have a few pieces of art I’d like to keep, but–”
“Montgomery,” Hilliard cut in gently. “Slow down. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Don’t worry about it tonight.”
Monty let out a slow exhale and nodded.
“You’re right.”
“I know.”
A grin tugged at the corners of Monty’s lips, warming Hilliard through. It didn’t last long. As he gazed at Hilliard, a familiar expression overtook him, grin replaced with a roguish smirk. He captured Hilliard in a kiss, one hand on the back of his neck.
“I won’t be distracted tonight,” he said against Hilliard’s lips.
