Chapter Twenty-Three

Surprising himself, Colson woke before Harper. He slipped out from under his arm, took his keys, and dressed quickly. Within minutes he was walking down the block. Dawn had settled its bright, pale fingers over the leafy silhouette of the canopy of trees, and he drew in deep breaths of the fresh morning air that hadn't yet turned hot and humid.

Few stores were open at this hour—the bodegas were always a good bet for the late-night, after-partying bacon-egg-and-cheese on a roll, or the early morning injection of regular coffee, which any New Yorker knew was milk and two sugars. But Colson had a different stop.

It was Sunday morning. That meant bagels.

And, apparently, he wasn't the only lunatic up at the ass-crack of dawn to get their fix. He'd had to wait ten minutes to place his order, but the smell of freshly baked bread, the tang of salt, garlic, and onion, was worth it. He walked out with a dozen assorted, three kinds of cream cheese, and lox.

When he returned, he found Harper sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. Luis sat with him, apparently in the middle of a heavy conversation.

"Hi. Sorry if I'm interrupting."

Eyes as pale as the morning mist widened. "You're back?"

"I didn't leave." Confused, Colson set the shopping bag on the table. "Uh, I mean, yeah, I did, and I guess I should've left a note, but I woke up and thought it would be nice if I got breakfast for everyone, so I went to the bagel store."

A strangled sound burst from Harper, and Luis squeezed his shoulder and nodded at Colson. "I told Harper you wouldn't just walk out. You had no reason to sneak away without leaving a note or anything."

Stunned by Luis's words, Colson dropped to the chair next to Harper's. "Is that what you thought? That I'd left without saying good-bye to you? Or David?" Disappointment crushed his heart. His voice dropped to a murmur for only them to hear. "After last night, is that really what you think of me?"

Luis slipped away, but Colson's attention was on Harper's ashen face and haunted eyes.

"Not you. Me. I guess I'm still waiting for the ax to drop. So many years have passed that I don't dare to dream of possibilities."

"Oh, babe. We're way past that point of maybe and hoping. We're the here and now. As real as it gets." Colson slid his arms around Harper's broad shoulders and rested their cheeks together.

"I thought you changed your mind and I lost you," Harper whispered.

And there went his heart again, doing those dangerous swoops. Throat tight, Colson nuzzled into Harper, drawing in the scent he'd cocooned in and dreamed about all night.

"You can't lose someone you can find in the dark. Knowing they are with you by the currents in the air. Some hearts just call to each other without needing a sound."

Finally, Harper smiled. "You're very good with words. You should be a writer or something."

"As long as I'm yours. That's all I want to be."

Harper kissed him, hands sliding into his hair to anchor him, and they stayed there in the kitchen, with the sunlight streaming through the windows.

Colson cupped Harper's cheek. "I'd better put the cream cheese in the fridge."

But Harper held him tighter. "In a minute. David will be up soon, and I want a few more minutes with you alone."

He had no desire to deny Harper, but as their kisses grew more passionate, he murmured against Harper's lips, "Unless you plan on me ravishing you in the kitchen, we need to stop."

Harper's cheek curved in a smile. "I'd never be able to eat dinner at this table again." With one last press of his lips, Harper put some space between them and brushed Colson's hair off his forehead. "Now go fix me some breakfast while I get David up."

Laughing, Colson rose to his feet, and Harper pinched his butt.

***

It had been a picture-perfect day. After bagels, they took a drive, then had pizza at Spumoni Gardens. He waited with David under umbrellas at one of the picnic tables while Harper got their food.

When a group of older men at the table across from them started shooting them side-eye looks, Colson decided to face them head on. "This is David. He loves pizza as much as you do."

One man, big and burly, with tattoos on his forearms and a buzz cut, murmured something to his buddies and swung his legs out from under their table to stand by theirs. Colson glanced up at him, a bit tense and wary.

"Sorry if we was staring. But…are you that writer, Colson Delacourt? The one who wrote Killer Behind the Stairs ?"

His jaw dropped. "Uh…yeah. I am."

The man's weathered face broke out in a grin, and he turned to his friends with a thumbs-up. "It's him," he called over and turned to Colson. "We're huge fans. Me and the guys—that's Arnie with the Giants cap and Bert. I'm Sal. We met in a widowers' support group, and we all love to read suspense, thrillers, crime fiction, ya know?" Colson smothered a smile at the man's fast-talking Brooklyn accent. "Anyway, we got a book club, and we meet Sunday mornings over coffee, talk about the book and have lunch. We just finished reading yours this afternoon. Man, that was a wild ride."

Warmed by the praise, Colson shifted to face the other men, while still keeping David in his view. "It was. I scared myself sometimes writing it, but I think it helped me."

Bert called out, "I slept with the lights on all week."

They all laughed, and he decided to share an update with them. "I'm almost finished writing a new book."

"Oh, yeah? This one gonna give me nightmares too?" Arnie joked and took a bite of his pizza.

Harper walked out with their pizza, his face quizzical but tense. Colson imagined he anticipated something negative. Colson took the food from him and set it between them.

"This is Sal, and that's Arnie and Bert. They're in a book club and they read my book, and we were just talking. Guys, this is my boyfriend, Harper. He's an NYPD detective. David is his brother." That he was gay shouldn't be a surprise to anyone who was a fan of his books—his bio, which he realized he needed to change, said he lived in Brooklyn with his boyfriend. Hopefully they'd read it.

"Nice to meetcha." Sal nodded at Harper, who'd put a square slice on the plate for David and was cutting it into pieces. "Is he an inspiration for your police characters?"

Harper's lips twitched, and Colson grinned. "No, not the one you've read, but…" Curious at their reaction, Colson decided to clue them in about his new book. "Let me ask you something."

"About the new book?" Sal asked, and all three men crowded near him.

"Yeah. I'm thinking of having this one be a little different—still a thriller and suspenseful with the requisite gore and blood, no worries."

Harper chuckled in the background and gave David some pizza.

"Oh, great. Another high electric bill 'cause I can't turn the lights out." Arnie groaned.

"Don't worry. Shirley will be glad to come over and hold your hand," Bert razzed him. "Shirley works at the bakery on Eighteenth Avenue around the corner from us. She's sweet on Arnie and always slips him an extra cookie."

"Shaddup, will ya? I wanna hear about the new book."

"I'm thinking of having the detective have a romantic relationship. With another man. There'd be no sex, just the talk of the two realizing the connection and growing close." Casually, his gaze traveled over the group of men. "Would you still read it?"

Sal was the first to speak. "Yeah. I would." He turned quiet for a moment. "When my Valerie was in the hospital with cancer, I'd be there with her. She always loved reading those romance books—I'd tease her about all that schmoopy stuff, and she'd say, ‘What's wrong with bein' in love and having a happily ever after?' So I'd bring them when I'd come to see her, and since she couldn't hold them 'cause she was too weak, I'd read them to her." He wiped his eyes. "And she was right. It was nice to see the people happy at the end 'cause life can be shit sometimes."

"That's beautiful." Colson blinked at the burning in his eyes. "And I agree. Love has the potential to change people."

David made a grunting noise, and Harper wiped his face. Colson could see the men were too polite to ask, but their eyes were filled with questions.

"David was injured when he was a child, and he lives with Harper and his aide."

Harper acknowledged them with a brief nod as he helped David with the straw for his apple juice.

"Whoa, that's a rough road." Arnie's brow furrowed. "But I gotta give you tons of respect there. I know it can't be easy."

Harper set the juice box down and finally addressed the group. "Life isn't easy, and we're not promised anything. But he's my brother—my only family. I'd walk through fire for him."

"Of course you would. That's what you do for family," Bert agreed, and the other men nodded. "Anything and everything."

"Yes." Harper's eyes glimmered, and Colson took his hand.

Sal said, "Seeing you with your brother makes me think maybe the world ain't such a crappy place after all. So many people would put your brother in a home and just visit him. You walk the walk, not just talk the talk."

"I'm trying."

"You succeed." Colson squeezed his hand.

"So long, Colson. Harper." And to Colson's surprise, all three men surrounded David's chair and waved to him.

"Bye, David."

When David smiled sweetly in response, the men couldn't stop talking about it.

"Did you see? He smiled back at us," they all chattered among themselves.

Harper nudged him. "Your pizza's cold."

"Yeah, but my heart is warm. There really are some good people in this world."

Harper leaned in and kissed him. "Yeah, there are. Let's take the rest home, and we can heat it up. I'll go get a box."

He left them alone, and Colson tidied up around the table. He sat in front of David. "I hope you had fun today. Do you like that I was here all weekend? I care for your brother…I love him. I want that to be okay with you."

David grunted, hands twitching, and his head swayed back and forth. Afraid he'd done something wrong, Colson rushed to reassure David. "Don't worry. Nothing is going to change. You and Harper will always be together."

"What's wrong?" Harper set the pizza box on the table.

"I don't know. I was just asking David if he enjoyed himself and assured him that nothing was going to change between you and him."

Harper crouched by David's chair. "That's right, buddy. I'm still going to be there for you. Me and Luis. But now Colson too."

David's fingers curled, and Colson's heart shriveled.

"He doesn't want that. I see it now. He's upset that I've stayed all weekend."

"I don't believe that. Let's go home. It's been a busy day."

The ride was quiet, and while Harper took care of David, Colson packed up his bag. He sat on the bed, wondering if their relationship was over before it had a chance to get off the ground. He sighed and went downstairs.

Harper and David were in the kitchen, and Harper's gaze zeroed in on his overnight bag. "Going somewhere?"

Colson set it on the floor and pulled out a chair. "I think it's probably best if I leave now. It's been a full weekend, and I'm sure David wants to spend some alone time with you."

Harper's smile was frozen. "Is that really the reason, or is it that you've had enough of playing caretaker and you're ready to leave?"

His heart sank as his anger rose. "Don't be ridiculous. I loved every minute of the weekend, including all my time with David. But…" He faltered, his heart as cold as Harper's empty eyes.

"But what?" Harper pressed.

"You saw when we were at Spumoni Gardens and I talked to David about how much I loved spending time with him. How I hoped he was okay with me being here all weekend with you." He cast his eyes to the shadows on the floor. "When you went to get a box, I told him I loved you. He became agitated and upset. I figured it was better if I left and let you have some time together. Alone." When Harper didn't respond, Colson picked up his bag and rose from the chair. "Bye, David. Harper…call me?"

He'd crossed the kitchen, heading to the door, when he heard David cry out. He turned and saw that David's hands were twitching, and he was swaying side to side. Harper had jumped to his side.

"It's okay. Don't worry. Everything's fine."

But David grew more agitated, his voice growing louder, his mouth twisted as if he were in pain. Tears flowed from his eyes. Despite his words only moments ago, Colson stopped.

"What's wrong?" he asked Harper, who was frantically trying to calm David.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think he didn't want you to leave." Harper beckoned him. "Come here, please."

Colson approached David, who watched him, and as he drew close, David quieted. Colson sat on the other side of his wheelchair. "Is Harper right, David? Do you want me to stay? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Whimpering escaped from David's lips, and…he smiled and made kissing sounds. Colson thought his heart would explode, and when he glanced at Harper, he knew the tears rolling down his face matched his own. Harper held out his hand in front of David's chair and Colson took it, then placed them on top of David's.

"Don't leave us," Harper whispered. "We both love you and want you to stay."

"If that's what you want."

"We want it." Harper turned his hand palm up, and squeezed his. "I need it."

"I guess we should think about dinner, then?"

David's hand twitched beneath theirs.