Page 122 of Ship Happens

“How’s it looking in here?” Kaitlyn asks, stopping to kiss Owen’s cheek.

“Good. Kevin was setting the table before everyone pulled in.”

“Okay—let me go get Poppy changed and we can sit down,” she assures him. Kaitlyn ducks out as quickly as she appeared. And suddenly, it’s just the two of them. Owen and Jacob, left to hover there in the doorway.

“Is this all you brought?” Owen asks him, readjusting the bag on his shoulder.

“Yeah.” He reaches to take it back, but Owen resists. “The rest of my stuff is in a bunch of boxes in Ohio last I checked.”

Then Jacob starts to sniff the air, his smile growing wider.

“Cobbler?”

Owen nods. “Your favorite.”

One might think that Owen hadn’t seen him just seven months ago, when he’d spent two whole weeks in Sweden with Jacob. But seven months feels like a lifetime, and the hundreds of FaceTimes since have only done so much for Owen’s longing. He can see every detail of Jacob’s handsome face that he failed to memorize the last time he was with Jacob in person, the few extra gray hairs that have sprouted in his beard, the way his smile lines have gotten just a bit deeper around his mouth and eyes.

Beautiful, he thinks.

“How was the flight?” Owen asks.

“Fine, mostly.” Jacob does a few half-squats. “My knees are still numb.”

“You’re getting old, Morrison.” Owen leans in, daring to give Jacob a kiss on the cheek, drinking in the way he blushes. “How’s it feel?”

He scoffs at Owen. “Age is just a number, Henson.”

“And yours is geriatric.” Owen pulls away, walking backward so that he can keep all of his focus on Jacob.

“Only one of us has to use a cane on a regular basis,” he reminds Owen, smirking.

“You’re not funny.” Owen feigns offense. “And it’s not a regular basis.”

“But you still have to use one.”

“Okay, are the two of you done flirting?” Kaitlyn asks as she exits the bathroom, her daughter racing ahead of her to wrap her arms around Owen’s legs. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah.” Jacob rubs his stomach, beaming at Owen, who reaches down to pick up Poppy. “Let’s eat!”

“Do you need help with anything?” Jacob asks, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed over that broad chest of his.

Owen doesn’t hold back the laughter when he read the words World’s Greatest Uncle on Jacob’s T-shirt. “Did Kaitlyn buy you that?” he asks, folding up the dishcloth he’d used to wipe down the counter.

“No.” Jacob blushes, his shoulders bunching like he’s embarrassed.

Everyone had called it early tonight. Between Pari having school in the morning, and both Abigail and Kevin having early shifts, everyone had said good night by ten thirty.

Not that Owen’s really that upset.

That just means he gets Jacob all to himself.

“So . . .” Owen leans against the counter, feeling Fitzwilliam rub himself against his legs. “How’s it feel to be back?”

Jacob steps further into the kitchen. “Not quite real, especially since my things aren’t here yet. I keep reminding myself that I don’t have to go back.”

That’s right. He doesn’t.

This time, Jacob gets to stay.