Chapter Eight

“NOPE. WE’REon a secret mission.” Tyler sounded infuriatingly pleased with himself.

Josh shifted in the passenger seat; the velvet of his Renaissance courtier breeches kept sliding on his truck’s work vinyl. He glanced at Tyler beside him, one massive hand casually guiding the wheel as the other drummed along to the radio against his dark tights. Even with half his face obscured by a black bandit’s mask, Tyler’s excitement was palpable.

“Come on, just tell me where we’re going.” Josh couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. Tyler had commandeered his truck and everything. Seeing Tyler behind that wheel felt more intimate and significant than it probably should have.

Tyler grinned, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “What’s the fun in that? Don’t you trust me?”

Josh laughed. “With my life and limbs. But kidnapping me before breakfast is pushing it.”

Not so secretly, he was thrilled by Tyler’s spontaneous road trip, made all the more tantalizing by his elaborate secrecy—not to mention being kidnapped by Mr. Tall, Dark, and Undressed.

And the glimpse of Tyler’s brawny chest and powerful thighs beneath his outrageous bandit costume certainly didn’t hurt. Josh worried the elaborate embroidered outfit Tyler had surprised him with was a bit much for an outing, but once Tyler had begun to manhandle him into these clothes, he surrendered to the goofiness.

Today was Sunday. Josh’s doorbell had rung just after nine, and Josh had gone to the door expecting Amazon Prime or a hopeful tree trimmer hustling for work, only to find Tyler standing on the mat, grinning and bare-chested, wearing dark leggings and a bulging codpiece.

“Are those tights?” Josh laughed and opened the door wider. “Tyler. What happened?”

“I’m a bandit, and you’re being abducted.”

Without any further preamble or explanation, Tyler had simply pushed inside his house, stripped Josh to his boxer briefs in his front hallway, and then dressed him out of a pile of folded garments, while Josh concentrated on not getting a big stonking stiffy while standing so exposed in front of the man of his dreams.

That had taken willpower, what with Tyler’s big, capable fingers fumbling with the elaborate buckles on a pair of borrowed breeches, pulling a pressed cotton shirt over his head, then tucking it in so gently that the hair on Josh’s neck stood on end. Tyler had knelt to lace Josh into glossy boots that hugged his calves, then pulled his arms into an elaborate waistcoat stitched with silver. When Josh finally saw himself in the hall mirror, he gasped.

No words would come. He had lost his capacity for speech.

“Prince Charming,” said Tyler, looming behind him like a lusty robber king. Then he reached up to softly brush Josh’s hair off his brow. “Perfect.”

“I don’t look like that.” Josh straight-up shivered.

Tyler gestured at the door. “Your rusty carriage awaits, my lord. Unless you trust me with your big pickup.”

Josh most certainly did… and handed over his keys.

After an hour wearing breeches on the interstate as a willing prisoner, Josh had learned two absolute truths:

A) Tyler loved dressing up in extravagant costumes, and

B) Boners were impossible to conceal under velvet.

Still baffled about the actual destination, Josh satisfied himself with trying to gather clues from the signage. They had driven north on I-15 and been on the road at least an hour. “Los Angeles…? Malibu?” With a smile, Josh turned to his handsome abductor. “Dude, are you taking me to Disneyland?”

“Relax, we’re almost there.” Tyler took the exit for North Sunset Ave., and then Josh scanned the signs for clues. Irwindale… that rang some long-ago bell. Then something called Santa Fe Dam Recreational Area.

“Wait.” Josh turned to look at a cross street. “I think they make sriracha here.”

Tyler neither confirmed nor denied reports of local hot sauce production.

As they turned down a tree-lined street, Josh spied a vast parking lot with a looming archway at the opposite end. A combination of T-shirted tourists and fully costumed patrons milled about the entrance under a sign that read Renaissance Pleasure Faire.

“No way!” Josh sat up straight. He’d always wanted to attend one of these but had never had the nerve.

Tyler beamed and threw an arm around Josh’s shoulders. “Welcome, good sirrah, to a world of knights, jesters, and lusty escapades.”

Despite his initial apprehension, Josh couldn’t suppress an excited grin. How had Tyler known? How did he always know? Mr. Fantana never stopped surprising and delighting him. The real Tyler was so much more wonderful than the imaginary “alpha jock” he’d pined for way back when.

Josh goggled at the sights and sounds as they strolled through the Faire gates. Minstrels plucked lutes, jugglers tossed flaming batons, and the air smelled of roasted meat and fresh-baked bread. Costumed villagers hawked their wares from makeshift wooden stalls draped with vivid silks and tapestries. The crowd was a jolly mix of hard-core costumes and average civilians wearing shorts and flip-flops.

“Milord, since you are my prisoner this day, I offer you my protection and patronage in this lawless domain,” Tyler said in an exaggerated and terrible British accent. “Perhaps a flagon of ale?”

Josh laughed. “Indeed not, villain. I’ll have my revenge. But first, we must away to yon field of valor, where my knights clash in contest!” He pointed to a sign for the jousting arena.

Tyler’s eyes lit up. “I can but agree! Let us make haste, lest we miss the fray!”

As Tyler hurried off, Josh watched him walk away, feeling absolutely no guilt. That butt, that back, those arms were something else. If Tyler wanted to showcase his extraordinary assets under Lycra that thin, Josh for one was not willing to waste a miracle by walking in front.

And for the first time, he got a proper head-to-toe gander at Tyler’s outrageous chest-baring costume.

Tyler looked every inch the storybook rogue, all bulging biceps and bunching pectorals with a dusting of crisp dark fuzz across them. At six foot five and two hundred and sixty-something pounds, Tyler stood a head taller than anyone else in the Faire. His abs flexed every time he chuckled, and the wide V of his back looked like a DD campaign waiting to happen.

However, the real public nuisance was presented by his massive lower half.

The folks wandering the Faire might not recognize America’s Tightest End behind his half mask, but everybody in striking distance was having a hard time keeping their eyes above his beltline, fore and aft. Josh could sympathize.

For whatever nefarious reason, Tyler had opted to wear darkish tights, somewhere between brown and purple and textured like hide, that showed off every intense inch of his jacked legs and backside. His gigantic thighs looked like carved tree trunks, and his meaty calves rose out of a pair of fold-top cavalier boots. And the crowning glory front and center? A literal glittering codpiece cupping his huge bulge behind a jeweled rooster picked out in red, black, green, and orange gems, its beak tipped up to nip at the perfect dark treasure trail reaching up from his waistband toward his navel.

A glittering cock? For real? He must have done that on purpose, right?

Thing was, the whole getup might look obscene in its particulars, but more than anything, he looked perfect. Tyler might have stepped out of a fairy tale to ravish someone.

“My lord?”

Busted.Josh raised his eyes and realized Tyler had caught him staring, but he seemed pleased, if anything. Obviously he didn’t mind anyone getting an eyeful. Tyler beckoned him with a roguish grin. “Shall we?”

“Right.” Josh finally got his legs moving and closed the distance separating them. “These costumes are amazing.”

“I know a gal in La Jolla who hooked us up.” Tyler spun in a slow circle, looking down at himself. “She designs for the opera.”

Football players go to opera?As soon Josh reached his bandit king, Tyler threw an affectionate arm around his shoulders. For the past couple of weeks, Tyler had become more openly tactile, and Josh cherished those casual moments of closeness.

He wondered whether—hoped—it meant Tyler’s feelings had nudged beyond mere friendship. But he dared not assume too much. For now it was enough just to share this adventure together.

Tyler looked down at his codpiece and boots. “Granted, it may not be strictly AP history accurate.”

“Accuracy be damned. It looks sexy as hell.” Josh even felt bold enough to wink.

Tyler paused at a stall selling masks and selected a bejeweled bull with curling horns, holding it to his face.

“A minotaur.”

“What do you think?” Tyler asked, his voice rumbling behind the mask. “Strong like bull?”

Josh laughed. “It definitely suits your stubbornness. But I think it distracts from the rest of your, uh, package.” He raised his eyebrows at Tyler’s sparkly cock-a-doodle bulge. “Cock and bull?”

“Touché.” Tyler grinned and set the mask back down. “Besides, I’m horny enough as it is.”

Every time they paused to browse, Josh caught himself staring at Tyler striding through the crowd. The aggressive jut of his haunches and the powerful thighs demanded attention. But he seemed so much happier and calmer, just being around people without having to be anyone but himself.

Aside from vendors and actual staged shows, a few characters roamed the Faire as well, acting out small skits and interacting with kids.

Josh turned to watch an alchemist entertaining a circle of kids by performing legerdemain with his flasks and flames. “You know… AP history aside, this is what studying the past should feel like. Curiosity and connection.”

“Right?” Tyler nodded at a knight arguing with a tonsured monk over a sack of loot. “I know it’s not accurate, but it’s like seeing a book come to life.”

Interspersed with the “shoppes” and “taverns,” Josh noticed a scatter of games and challenges that provided different kinds of fun for different kinds of guests, from rowdy to reticent. “I can’t get over this place.”

Tyler pointed out an Axe Throw, a Ring Toss, and even a Grand Battle of Wits, which pitted teams of guests against a huge puzzle with hidden prizes. Jugglers and bubble sculptors. Small stages crowded with boisterous performers dotted the whole Faire. There really was something for whoever might wander past.

As they looped back toward the jousting ground, they spotted a cloak stall that offered options in leather, silk, velvet, and even feathers. Tyler insisted he try a few on, but Josh felt funny when people began to gather and take pictures of him. He still struggled with that kind of direct attention from strangers. Tyler tried to buy him a gigantic royal cape, but Josh begged off. “It looks cool standing here, but imagine dragging it for a couple miles.”

“Ah. True.”

They paused to watch the end of a deadly serious archery competition between a group of small hyperfocused kids wearing crowns, glitter, and diaphanous fairy wings. An eight-year-old boy in lavender batwings won in a squeaker. His name must have been Luis, because the crowd cheered his name loudly.

As soon as they stepped back into the flow of visitors, a family with three little ones stopped to take pictures with them, possibly because they looked like performers. Tyler lifted one of the girls onto his shoulder so fast that all the kids wanted a ride.

As they walked away, Tyler leaned over to mutter, “This I miss. Just being able to walk around and be with people like a person.”

Josh nodded. Maybe that was the difference. Wearing a mask for a day let Tyler relax. Josh had never seen him so playful or easy in a large group of civilians.

They continued browsing the stalls until Tyler insisted they stop to try on silly hats and then some custom chainmail. In the distance, Josh could hear the thunder of hooves. Jousting maybe? Or a race. They passed a huge maypole in full braid and a contortionist rope dancer balanced over a pond.

At the next big intersection, a roaring crowd stood gathered in a ring around a raised log that stretched over a pit padded with giant cushions.

A graceful girl standing up on the log called down to Tyler. She wore a leather jerkin and loose green trousers that laced up the side. “Give you good day, sir.”

Tyler chuckled and shouted back to her in his rough bandit voice, “And you, wench.”

“I am no wench but the sheriff’s daughter.” She moved like a gymnast, and maybe she was. She hopped up on the log and walked toward Tyler’s taunting. He stood so tall and handsome above the crowd that she probably assumed he was one of the characters hired to improvise during the Faire.

“Aye. But who is your mother, wench?” Tyler squinted at her, obviously enjoying himself.

“At that you have me, sir. She were not the sheriff’s wife.” The crowd cackled at that. By all appearances, she really did expect Tyler to jump in and play at sword-fighting on her log, and Tyler seemed more than willing.

Tyler crossed his arms until his chest bulged and barked up at her, “Many a night have I spent in your sire’s cells crying at the moon like a dog.”

“Like the dog you are! A robber. A thief. Will you not fight me honorably?” The girl raised two padded swords and nodded hopefully.

“I have no honor but his—this prince you see by my side.” Tyler turned to Josh. “Him will I fight. This noble man rules my land and my hand.”

Her face lit up. “Well said.”

“I do what? Rule?” Josh muttered to Tyler. “Hang on.”

“Well met! Indeed.” The girl laughed with genuine pleasure and encouraged the mob of visitors to clap with her for Tyler’s speechifying. “Is it not? Well said. Well met. Hie you hither, Master Robber. And bring your shining lord.”

Suddenly Tyler strode right into the clapping crowd, which parted before him like they’d rehearsed it. Feeling more than slightly ridiculous, Josh followed, keeping his eyes on Tyler’s broad flexing back and butt so he wouldn’t turn around.

“Consequences be damned!” The girl got the crowd to roar and curse at Tyler, and he hopped up onto the log with easy athleticism, his legs bunching with explosive power. She seemed startled by his height up close, but then slipped aside to let Josh climb to the log. “Your Grace.” She bowed to Josh.

Josh nodded and mumbled, “What the hell?”

Tyler reached forward to pluck the smallest of the two padded swords from her grip. “I challenge you to a duel, my lord!” he declared. “Your life or your freedom.”

Josh grabbed the longer sword. “I accept!”

The crowd cheered. Josh saw a few of the folks they had bumped into earlier: the mask vendor, the bubble sorceress, one of the joust knights mopping his brow, Luis the batwing champion on his dad’s shoulders.

Against all his better judgment, Josh took one look at Tyler’s twinkling eyes and jumped right into the silliness of it.

The swords felt like repurposed nerf bats. The log was broad enough that balancing was easy. All his rock climbing had done wonders for his equilibrium. And he was strong enough to hold his own, certainly, if Tyler went easy.

They faced off, swatting at each other with greater and greater force as they realized just how safe they were up here. They began to grunt, shout, and made a good show of it. Once she knew they were safe, the girl catcalled and the crowd jeered, mostly at Tyler as the burly bad guy.

Emboldened, Tyler attempted an obvious feint and sweep, over which Josh jumped pretty easily. The crowd shouted and hooted. Tyler swung down, hitting the flat of Josh’s shoulder but not moving him an inch.

He wants me to win.He winked at Tyler, and Tyler winked back.

Josh bent low and then swung his sword in a wide arc that slammed into Tyler’s side, knocking Tyler completely off balance.

Tyler’s arms pinwheeled a moment with him balanced on the edge, body arched, which shamelessly showed off his abs, pecs, and overstuffed codpiece.

With a dramatic cry, Tyler toppled into the cushions below and gave a roar of terrible defeat.

Josh smiled and raised his arms in victory. The girl got the crowd cheering and clapping again, but then the crowd booed as treacherous Tyler reached up and tugged Josh down into the pit on top of him.

For one perfect, breathless moment, Josh lay sprawled across Tyler’s broad, damp, heaving chest as Tyler’s arms caught him and held him steady. Their eyes met, faces inches apart.

Josh’s heart pounded. Tyler licked his lips, watching Josh’s eyes on him. Slowly, so slowly Josh could feel himself stiffening again in his breeches, Tyler released his powerful grip, and they helped each other to their feet, both flushed and off balance.

The girl shook her head ruefully at Tyler. “A lusty fighter—”

“Fights hardest still.” Tyler nodded and shrugged at her teasing abuse.

“Your lord is merciful.” The log wench invited them up for final hurrahs and a last bow to the crowd. She gave them a friendly, knowing glance.

Tyler turned to eye Josh softly. “More than you know.”

Josh tried to read his expression behind the smile and the mask.

Balanced on the log, they turned to face different sections of the crowd, bowing several times.

Tyler tipped his head to say softly to Josh, “A draw, then.”

Josh nodded, pulse racing. The full-length press of Tyler’s body still burned through his costume. What did it mean? He needed to know… but he suspected the day wasn’t close to over.

After their impromptu duel on the log and whatever had happened between them pressed together down in the pit, Josh needed a breather.

Tyler stopped to splash his face at a water fountain. “You hungry? After all that hard combat and shopping, I’m about to starve.” Then the rough accent again and the rogue’s grin. “But as it seems now I am your prisoner, I can but beg your indulgence.”

“Indulge away.” Josh laughed, following Tyler to a vendor offering massive turkey legs. The scent of roast meat and spices filled the air.

Tyler snorted, handing Josh a huge, greasy drumstick and a mug of cider. “I got you pretty good.”

The cider was cold and tart. “You just can’t handle defeat, Fantana.”

“Maybe ’tis you can’t handle victory, milord.” Tyler claimed his own leg and tankard from the counter, then asked the server, “Might I steal a couple sheets of that parchment?” He rolled the blank pages and tucked them in his belt.

As they walked away, Josh took an enormous bite of turkey, savoring the burst of flavor. “Wow. So good.”

Tyler tore into his own turkey leg with gusto, leaving a smear of grease on his cleft chin. “Let’s find a table.”

“You know I went easy on you.” Tyler’s eyes crinkled at the corners, teasing.

Warmth flooded Josh’s cheeks. “I certainly didn’t go hard on you.” He realized what he’d said and stopped while he was ahead.

Tyler shrugged with a roguish smirk. “Well. Hard or soft, what would I not do to protect my liege?”

They found a semisecluded picnic table under a broad oak and sat to watch the crowd drift by. Up on a stage across the way, a troupe was doing some kind of lowbrow farce with a wizard, a jester, and a dragon puppet that farted fire.

Tyler took another bite of turkey and washed it down with a swallow from his mug. “You having an okay time?”

“Okay? Tyler, that was— You’re so— The best Sunday, maybe ever.” Josh shook his head, trying to find the words. “I don’t know. In my life. Thank you for this.” He wiped his face with a paper napkin. “I don’t even think I can explain. I’d never be brave enough. Or crazy enough. You always make me feel like I can do anything.”

Tyler gave him a funny look then and blinked. “Uh. Likewise.”

“Well, yeah. Okay, running and dumbbells. But I mean….” Josh looked down at the embroidered waistcoat. “This costume? A sword? Ye Olde Times wish fulfillment? Turkey? You in a bedazzled codpiece flexing your tight end with a thousand people clapping for us?”

“More like forty, but point taken.” Tyler raised his tankard and did the accent again. “You are most welcome, sir. And as you are a clever lad, you’ll have realized by now that all this abduction and Renaissancing isn’t just for sweaty fights and fistfuls of greasy meat.” He pulled out the paper and a pencil.

Josh didn’t follow. “It isn’t?”

“It’s also a solution to Hamilton’s busybody problem. Your library dilemma.” Tyler put his half-eaten turkey leg down on a napkin and wiped his greasy hands before picking up the pencil again. “So, I was thinking the reason this place works so well is that it meets the visitors where they need to be met. It interacts with them, but each of them differently. They willingly do most of the work.”

“I don’t understand.”

Tyler began doodling a familiar building. “The library. The reason dummies attack libraries is that books are quiet and still.”

Josh squinted and chuckled. “Well, yeah.”

“A building for readers seems passive to bigots who don’t know better because they’re too lazy to pay attention.” Tyler drew a tiny mob with pitchforks. “Libraries just sit there full of books. Books are inanimate. They can’t fight back. They can’t vote. They can’t shout assholes down. They have to take the abuse like a tackle dummy unless someone fights for them.”

“Oh. Oh!” He nodded now.

“Let’s just say… what if we make the library more than a single inanimate thing and make it into a Pleasure Faire?” He opened his arms to include their surroundings. “A bunch of interactive experiences for different kinds of visitors. No longer a passive target.” He took another bite of turkey and wrote something down. “Bring the books to life a bit.”

“That’s brilliant. You’re brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Well, Joshua, I think probably because you got a full-time job with kids and you’ve been saving my ass and putting me back together on the daily. While I, on the other hand, have got time to spare and a crappy attitude.” Tyler winked and wrote something else down with another doodle.

“You mean we can raise money. Open it up so more kids use it for something other than napping and making out.”

“For starters.” Tyler nodded and wrote down FUNDS, circled it and drew a bunch of lines like rays of sunlight. “I mean yeah… a fundraiser, but more than just that. Remind people that the library is always doing all kinds of stuff that they forgot about. It only interacts with them if they bother to notice. Like put the ‘fun’ in fundraiser. We make them—” He extended his hand.

Josh reached out and squeezed his fingers. “Pay attention. Sorry.”

Tyler squinted in confusion. “For what?”

“I’m super greasy.”

“It’s turkey. I’m already covered in it, and it’s delicious.” Tyler grinned and sucked Josh’s grease off his fingers. He made another note, then looked across at the wizard and the dragon puppet snuggling on the stage. Behind them, the crowd applauded at something.

“Okay.”

“And this Faire is just a jumping-off place.” Tyler kept scribbling ideas and doodling on the page in front of him, bullet points and shapes connected by lines and even a couple small figures that looked suspiciously like medieval Powerpuff Girls. “The library events don’t need to be themed like this place, but we could do some games, a lock-in night with popcorn and reading a classic aloud. Or used book adoptions.”

Josh saw where he was going. “A costume contest connected to curriculum. Some adult writing classes or literacy challenges.”

“Exactly. It’s harder for the jerks to hit a moving target. So we move people. They’ll do most of the work.” He looked around pointedly at the crowd of folks who’d worn their own costumes to come play today.

Tyler’s enthusiasm was infectious. Josh could picture the whole scheme so clearly, and the possibilities for promotion and fundraising looked endless.

“It’s perfect, Tyler. Carver will get behind this whole deal. The library needs help, and the students would love it, especially if you’ll be involved. Local businesses can sponsor prizes, do a book drive, some local charity awareness. Especially those doodles.” He gestured at Tyler’s artistic additions.

“Hey, don’t knock the Powerpuffs. They kick ass in any era.” Tyler grinned, playfully elbowing Josh. “Keep reminding folks their library is working hard all the time, quietly interacting with everyone. It’ll be great. We got this.”

Josh found himself unable to shake the nagging question: We? Just how long would Tyler stick around Cinnamar once his injuries healed? He couldn’t figure out how to ask without seeming weird. Instead, he focused on what was right in front of them.

“And then there’s the obvious thing,” Tyler said, breaking Josh’s train of thought. “I’ve been thinking about tapping the San Diego Swells to generate more buzz. They always need positive PR. Maybe some of the guys could come out for a charity game or an autograph auction.”

“Really? That would be amazing!” Josh exclaimed, his heart swelling with gratitude. But Tyler’s impending return to San Diego hovered somewhere close, shadowing his excitement.

“Absolutely. I mean, it’s not every day you get a chance to save a library,” Tyler replied, his eyes never leaving Josh’s.

“And here I thought today was just tights and turkey legs.” Josh bumped shoulders. “You’re pretty sneaky, Master Robber.”

Next to the word MOVING on his paper, Tyler doodled another hovering Powerpuff Girl to protect it with a punch. “Josh, I want to help however I can. Those book-ban biddies won’t know what hit ’em.”

Joy and purpose filled Josh’s chest, along with a surge of affection for Tyler’s passion. On impulse, he leaned against Tyler’s shoulder with a contented sigh.

After a beat, Tyler draped an arm around him, casual and warm. They sat together, watching the world go by in a sea of cloaks and crowns.

Tyler had become the adventure he never thought he’d find.

Eventually they stood, and Josh noticed the lines of strain around Tyler’s eyes and mouth. “You okay?”

“Just a little sore. It’s been a long day.” Tyler grimaced. “Back. Hips. Methinks your prisoner needs a rack in a soft dungeon.”

“Let’s get out of the crush, then.” Josh stood, catching Tyler’s hand to help him up and tug him along. “This way.”

He led Tyler into the shady hedge maze, but only realized he was still holding Tyler’s hand when they passed the first bend. Self-conscious, Josh let go and guided Tyler to an empty stone bench under a canopy of woven branches from two trees.

Josh looked up. “How do they do that? That must take forever.”

“Braid the trees? Well, this Faire has been here fifty or sixty years, I think. It’s the original, after all.” Tyler closed his eyes and leaned back. His powerful thighs fell open, exposing his sparkly rooster as he relaxed against the cool stone. He sighed. “That feels so good. I pushed it hard today, huh? Plus you beat me up but good.”

“After you dragged me through a mob onto a log and threw a sword at me.”

“Hardly threw.” Tyler smiled, though his eyes stayed closed. He crossed his arms and scrunched down a bit, as if snuggling into the stone bench. “I’m going to tell Nadia… and then you are in trouble.”

“Uh-huh. You do that, Fantana.” Josh sat back too. It did feel great to sit in the quiet. “Oh. Nice.” The air was cooler now, though Tyler’s thigh was warm against his.

“Thank you for kidnapping me,” Josh said at last. “Today has been incredible.”

“My pleasure. So fun. I like seeing you cut loose, enjoy yourself that much.” Tyler smiled, dozy and close.

Away from the surge and flow of the other Faire visitors, that odd timeless quality returned, almost like their silvery morning runs or the quiet time driving. The fading afternoon seemed to waver on the edge of something lovely and hushed, just offstage.

Josh might have dozed a bit too, because he noticed the sun had fallen toward the horizon. The maze was now dim and bluish.

Josh didn’t have a watch to check, but from the angle of the sun, he suspected it was late afternoon. “Ty…. We should head out soon, before it gets full dark.”

“Yeah.” Tyler roused and brought his legs together to stand. “Your wish is my only desire, milord. And your desire my only wish.”

Outside the maze, long shadows now streaked the jousting field and paths as Josh and Tyler emerged into the main grounds again.

As dusk fell, the Renaissance Pleasure Faire began to wind down. Stalls shuttered their windows, and performers took their final bows. Everyone seemed happy and muted.

Josh and Tyler sauntered back toward the entrance, their path illuminated by arches and trees twined with pale fairy lights. Outside the main gate, the vast lot had started to empty, exposing their truck, which mercifully shortened their search.

Tyler pointed at it with a cry. “My kingdom for a pickup.”

Once they reached it, Josh pressed the key ring fob and the lights flashed and the locks beeped open. Tyler hesitated for a moment before grimacing. “Do you mind if I change out of this gear?”

“’Course not.”

“I’m too tired to do it inside the cab.” Tyler opened the driver’s door and stood behind it, his thick belt dangling from one fist. “But I don’t want anyone— Can you stand guard and watch for any dick pic drones or iPhones?”

Josh nodded and faced the main gate, trying to be a gentleman. As it happened, the door mostly hid Tyler from nipples to knees.

“We need to bring back codpieces.” There was rustling and some groans as he tossed something onto the seat, presumably his bedazzled rooster cup. “Still good?” Tyler asked.

“You’re good. Not a soul but us for fifty yards.” A couple of the streetlamps had clicked on. Josh hadn’t realized how late it was.

One boot came off and then the other. Tyler’s bare feet lowered carefully onto the ground. “Better. Much better.”

Josh blinked. “Dude, your feet are gigantic.”

“Yep. Size seventeen.” Tyler’s head poked around, still wearing the half mask. In one hand he held a loose T-shirt and jeans. “Last call. I’m about to get butt-ass naked right here in Los Angeles County. Full dangle. Am I clear?”

“No stalkers. No paparazzi.” Josh scanned the lot and sky and saw no movement at all. “Clear for naked.”

Tyler bent over and hissed at something. “Yessss. Jesus.” He straightened again and adjusted something. “Oh, that’s better. Whew. Oh, my nuts.”

Up top, his upper chest showed through the window. On the bottom, Josh could only see his calves flex and his ginormous bare feet on the hard-packed dirt one at a time as he skinned out of the tights. Tyler leaned into the truck, and the feet stepped into blue jeans; then he reemerged looking sheepish and shy. “Thank you most heartily, my lord. My butt was wet and my balls were about to bust. Both butt and balls express their most salty gratitude.” He bowed.

Tyler seemed sore and tired after their long day together.

“Hey, why don’t I drive us home?” Josh said. “You can even conk out if you want.”

“Deal.” Tyler’s smile deepened. “Thanks, Coach. I knew there was a reason I always do what you tell me.”

“Always?” Josh teased.

“Mmh.” Tyler said softly. “Big bananas.”

“Let me take the keys,” Josh offered, concern lacing his voice. “I’m pretty sure I know the way.”

Tyler looked up with a grateful smile as he held out the keys. “It’s your day off, after all. You got school first thing. You sure?”

“I’m kidnapping you this time, big guy,” Josh insisted, sliding behind the wheel. “Get some rest.”

As they cruised south on I-15 in the dark, a huge grin spread across Josh’s face, his heart full to bursting.

Twenty minutes out of Irwindale, Tyler fell asleep, first leaning back in a doze but then gradually drifting sideways until his head rested gently on Josh’s shoulder. His hair smelled like cider and sunlight. The intimacy of the moment felt like home, and after the amazing day they’d shared, Josh reveled in the fantasy of Tyler as his happy other half.

Josh drove through the sparkling dark, glancing over now and then at Tyler dozing against his shoulder. His heart swelled with tenderness at how vulnerable Tyler seemed in sleep, the handsome face softened by dreaming. All his wild bravado had fallen away, leaving the real Tyler that Josh had always glimpsed beneath the swagger.

I have to say something while I have the chance.

With each mile that passed, Josh’s determination to confess his true feelings solidified. Before Tyler left to rejoin his team in San Diego, Josh vowed to come clean about the crush and everything else.

Consequences be damned.

For now, though, he focused on the gleaming road ahead of them, enveloped by the comforting weight of Tyler’s head on his shoulder and the simple pleasure of being rocked together in the dark.