Still, Simon was a little trepidatious when he knocked on the door. He needn’t have worried.
Kate was the one who threw the door open, and her first words were “Oh my God, Alex! Your boyfriend brought me women. Come on in.”
What followed was a rapid-fire, raucous round of introductions, punctuated by the yapping dog. Bartholomew was in the kitchen, stacking ingredients on the counters and avoiding all of the noise, and Lachlan was helping him, seeming to shield the shy little baker with his body.
And Alex was at the kitchen table, looking at a sheet of recipes and separating ingredients into piles, with a pile in the middle for ingredients—such as flour and sugar—that would be in every kind of cookie or pastry.
Simon set the dog down and took two steps toward Alex, who pointed him down the hall. “Anyone who passes that line—that line you’re at right now—needs to wash up,” he said seriously. “There’s aprons in the bathroom.” He was wearing one: a dark paisley green that looked like it had seen some washing. “Nobody’s obliged to help,” he added, and then he gave Simon a beseeching look. “Just don’t be upset if we’re busy, okay?”
“Understood,” Simon said, adjusting his path. “It’s their fault for coming when they weren’t invited,” he added, glaring at his friends.
“I’ll stay out of the way,” Chris said, and Gabby and Audra both held up their hands.
“Kate says there will be cookie wrapping time. We’re down for that,” Gabby told him, and Audra nodded eagerly. “Don’t worry. We get making a living here.”
“Good,” Alex told them, and Simon hurried toward the bathroom.
He wanted to get close enough to Alex to touch. Whatever had happened to them over the last two days, it had changed the way he thought about Alex and space. He wondered if he could walk into the office again without wanting to rub his hand along the short-trimmed nape of Alex’s red hair or bump up against his arm.
When he returned, wearing a blue-flowered apron with little bric-a-brac sewn into the seams, his hands sharp with disinfectant, he made it a point to stand close enough to rub shoulders.
Alex gave him a grateful smile, his green eyes soft and worried. Then he bit his lip and looked away. “You ready to work?” he asked.
“Always,” Simon said, completely ignoring the fact that he’d put in a seventy-hour work week and had been hoping for movie night and a good sleep-in.
Alex shot him another one of those soft looks, and working didn’t seem like such a bad thing.
THREE hours later, Simon sprawled out on the couch and tried to stay awake. Gabby and Audra were wrapping cookies and tiny loaves of bread in cling wrap, their hands neatly gloved. He had to admit, Bartholomew took his sanitation regulations and cleanliness protocols absolutely seriously. Even the dog knew it, never once crossing the line from the living room to the kitchen in spite of the open floor plan.
“Hey,” Alex said softly, poking him in the shoulder. “You can go crash in my bed if you like. We’ll be done and loaded up in the van here in an hour.”
“I was going to—” Simon yawned. “—help.”
Alex bent down and kissed his temple, and Simon smiled sleepily. “You’ve had a long day,” he said. “I got naps. Go sleep. I’ll wake you when your friends are ready to go.”
Simon yawned again and stood, digging in his pocket for his car fob. “Give this to Audra so she doesn’t have to stay with Chris or Gabby if she doesn’t want to. I’ll stay the night.”
Alex’s gratitude warmed him. “Thank you—thank you so much. I mean, even if we weren’t, uhm, on a kissing basis. It’s just—” The lights flickered on and off again, coming back red and then purple and then green. They’d been doing that periodically, until Chris had actually checked both the overhead lights and the lamps to see if there were special bulbs.
Nope.
“Creepy as fuck,” Simon filled in for him.
“Yeah.” Alex gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Go sleep. If you want, I can take Bartholomew’s bed since mine’s so small.”
Simon grunted. “No.”
“No?”
“No. It’s not like you’re a lumberjack with a refrigerator for a chest. Come sleep with me when you’re done.” Simon yawned and swayed a little on his feet. “I should be able to appreciate you by then.”
Alex laughed softly and gave him a push. He made his way to that green bedroom, full of nature and the breezes of dreaming. Alex hadn’t made the bed since that morning, and Simon smiled a little as he toed off his shoes and socks, then slid his jeans down his hips, folded them in half, and draped them over Alex’s office chair. He stripped off his turtleneck and got into bed, imagining that Alex’s warm, sleepy heat lingered between the covers.
HE wasn’t sure when Alex came to bed after that, but he definitely remembered the wiry body nudging him toward the wall.
“Mm.” Simon wrapped an arm around Alex’s slim waist and grumbled, “You’re wearing pajamas.”
“I didn’t want to assume,” Alex said through a yawn.
“Next time, assume I want to touch you.”
Alex’s chuckle reverberated through both of them, and Alex reached out to do something on top of the bed stand.
Simon opened one eye. “Is that… a basic clock?”
“Yeah.” Alex yawned again. “Mechanical clocks go off if we set an alarm. Our phones and computers don’t—not for the last two weeks. Something about time.”
“When are we getting up again?” Simon asked, hating the thought. He was exhausted.
“I’m getting up ten minutes before sunrise so we can perform the ritual and Lachlan can go get his stock for the craft fair. You’re staying in bed and keeping it warm so I can come back and sleep.”
“Mm.” Simon’s eyes closed again, all by themselves, until a random but very important thought had them shooting open.
“So after you come back and we sleep some more, are we going to be alone?”
“Yes?”
“In your bedroom, in this house, just us?”
This time Alex sounded a little anxious—and a little amused. “Yes.”
“Mm.” Simon pulled him closer, enjoying his heat, enjoying the feeling of smooth skin over a tight belly as Simon insinuated his hand under Alex’s sleep shirt. “Good.”
Alex’s hand covered his, and Alex laced their fingers together. “Good,” he murmured, and then there was just the warmth and safety of the two of them in the darkness, and sleep.
The alarm went off at ungodly a.m., and Alex got up, pulled a sweatshirt and slippers on, and disappeared. He was back ten minutes later, breathless and chilled, but that didn’t stop Simon from waking up enough to command him to take his clothes off.
“No,” Alex mumbled, throwing his hooded sweatshirt on top of Simon’s jeans. “I’m not doing a strip show.” An adorable flush covered his cheeks, and Simon half chuckled.
“Here, look. I’m closing my eyes. It’s a shame because the view’s probably terrific, but….” And Simon allowed himself to be honest. “I want to touch your skin. Is that okay?”