Six Months Later
We bought a vintage bungalow three blocks from the beach where we could hear the music from Nacho’s Bar if we left the windows open. Ken the real estate wizard had flipped the property lavishly. Inside its blue-and-white master bedroom, I opened my eyes, wondering what exactly had teased me awake. Ah, yes—the aroma of coffee and banana-nut bread.
I reached out, but Epic was long gone. The sheets on his side of our bed had cooled. I checked the time. Already eight? Yikes. I had international calls to make, and I didn’t want to miss my window.
I showered quickly and dressed. No shave today. I entered the kitchen in a hurry and found Epic sitting at the table reading on his tablet. As always, he looked relaxed but still put together. Button-down, jeans cuffed at the ankle, boat shoes with no socks.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
He glanced up. “Why should I? You’ve still got time for a nice breakfast.”
The bowl of berries on the table looked luscious. He’d set a place for me with Greek yogurt and honey and a couple slices of banana bread. When I sat, he poured me coffee.
“Thank you.”
He dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Any time.”
The table sat in the sunniest spot in our kitchen. Well, it was sunny when the morning mist, typical in St. Nacho’s, burned off. He'd left the slider open with the screen closed, letting in a breeze from the sea and the sound of birds chirping in our orange trees.
“Lila got confirmation that there’s been a disruption in drug trafficking through El Paso. No word yet if that’s because the Mexican government made headway on those manufacturing camps, but it’s good news either way.”
“A step in the right direction.” Along with drugs, there were always mules who might or might not be willing participants. The cartels ran prostitution, gambling, and pornography rings. We celebrated every sign they were slowing down as a win.
I ate the rest of my breakfast and helped Epic do the dishes.
Epic and I spent most of our time working remotely from St. Nacho’s. I still traveled for business, and we flew to Canada for face time with Lila and our colleagues when necessary.
Truthfully, working remotely had changed very little in my day-to-day work schedule. In fact, lacking commute time and creating a state-of-the-art home office meant I could spend even more hours at work than before. Epic put a firm stop to that. A moratorium. A hell no.
Over the weeks we’d spent together, I’d learned to let Epic tell me when it was time to start and stop. Like today, when he turned off the alarm so I could get a bit of extra sleep or in the evenings when sitting down to a nice dinner could be a late affair but was not optional.
Epic still made sure I wore sunscreen. He bought me hats.
When I doubted he was getting anything out of the deal, I only had to see his smile, taste his kisses, or surrender my body to the delights of our bed to know whatever we had was real, and good, and lasting.
Happy Epic made everyone around him happy. It was his gift.
“Come on. I’ll drive you to work,” he said as he opened the sliding screen door. “Get a move on.”
He chivvied me out to our back yard where Waffles, our Corgi, lay basking in the sunshine. The little dog barked happily and ran around our feet in an attempt to herd me toward the guest apartment we’d turned into a state-of-the-art computer lab.
These days, time at work passed differently. For one thing, there was a refrigerator in the office kitchen filled with healthy snacks and drinks like LaCroix and kombucha. There was a massive, down and leather couch wide enough for two-person napping and…other things sometimes.
We’d hired Waffles as our PA. She mostly sat in my lap and snored softly or chased a laser pointer because the local vet, Dr. Davies, said Corgis are prone to unhealthy weight gain.
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt tired, or hopeless, or lonely.
“Hey, don’t hog the dog.” Epic reached out with grabby hands.
“I’m not hogging." I curled around her protectively. "She wants to be here.”
“Because she’s got Stockholm syndrome from you hogging her. Let me take her for a while.”
I handed Waffles over without waking her.
“Love you,” he kissed me gently before going back to his desk.
“Love you more.” I glanced out the window just in time to see the breeze knock a flutter of fragrant orange blossoms off our trees. Tiny white petals drifted past the window like snowflakes.
I let out a huge sigh. Our life was going to be…awesome. Epically awesome.
* * *
Want to spend a holiday in St. Nacho’s? Try Winter Solstice in St. Nacho’s, a taut and tender tale of compassion, redemption, and unlikely romance featuring a character you might remember from A Reluctant Boy Toy
* * *
If you enjoyed Epic and Ryan’s story please leave a review. The more reviews a book has, the more likely it will pop up on other readers’ sales pages, meaning they’ll get the opportunity to enjoy it too. Reviews are the #1 way for you to help me keep writing the stories you love. Review A Flighty Fake Boyfriend today!
* * *
Feel like revisiting the original St. Nacho’s stories? Before The Men Of St. Nacho’s started finding their age gap lovers, there was Cooper and Shawn in St. Nacho’s, Ken and Jordan in Physical Therapy, Yasha and JT in Jacob’s Ladder, and Cam and Dan in The Book of Daniel.