Chapter 20

L.A. was a fever dream. For nearly three days I had Robin all to myself. After his dress rehearsal we were left entirely to our own devices. After fucking Robin for a second time that lovely, wonderful night, I made my way down to the street to find us tacos.

He’d told me where to locate his favorite taco stand, and I’d literally manhandled him back into bed so he wouldn’t follow me.

I wanted him to be sleepy-soft and sated, his hole gaping, his body lax.

Didn’t want him coming down to the street only to be bombarded by well-meaning fans, and less well-meaning paparazzi.

Luckily for me, the same doorman that had been there before was still on shift. He grinned at me, waving and directing me out the right way toward the taco stand. And when I returned thirty minutes later with my arms full of paper bags full of food, he’d given me the code to head upstairs.

I’d honestly forgotten to ask Robin for it, so I was more than a little grateful—and made a mental note to give him a hefty tip later when I had the hands to reach my wallet.

Robin was asleep by the time I’d finished depositing the takeout on the nightstand beside the bed. Like a dog, his nose twitched, however, and only a few seconds later his eyes drowsily blinked open. He zeroed in on the food, his stomach gurgling, and I laughed.

“Hi,” Robin said, groggy and happy as he wiggled slowly—his ass had to be at least a little sore, despite my preparations—toward the food. “Hi, gorgeous,” he said directly to the food and not me.

“I see how it is,” I laughed, settling onto the mattress and easily manhandling him into a sitting position. Normally I wouldn’t allow eating in the bed. It wasn’t something I tolerated at home—and we were about to sleep here, so I didn’t want to cause a problem in case either of us spilled. However…Robin looked exhausted. And the rest of the house was so fucking cold and unwelcoming that I didn’t want to make him leave his happy little nest.

I figured I’d deal with any crumbs or spills should they happen. Even if it meant I needed to go out again to buy us sheets.

“Oh, you’re here too,” Robin joked, throwing his arms around me and giving me a grateful squeeze. “Did you get me?—”

“I got you a torta,” I hummed, kissing his cheek.

“With extra limes on the side?”

“So many extra limes,” I agreed.

“Ben Montgomery, you are a fucking catch.” Robin smacked a kiss against my chin, before he pushed me away so he could make grabby hands at the tacos.

“Hold still,” I urged, before crossing the room to gather up the blanket that sat on the floor discarded. I figured it could work as a kind of barrier beneath the food. Carefully, I tucked it over his lap, then worked my way through the take-out bag to find his food for him.

Robin made the happiest slurping sound when I handed him his drink, lashes fluttering as he groaned.

Reminded me way too much of the groans he’d made when his slick pink hole had opened for my cock, and for a moment, my movements halted entirely as visions of him taking me—split wide—assaulted my senses.

This was going to be a problem.

I could easily foresee myself losing focus at the randomest times, recalling just how perfectly Robin’s body took my dick. I had more than a few delicious plans to plow that pretty little hole. Plans I was quickly realizing would need to be enacted soon, if I wanted to keep my sanity.

“Ben?” Robin blinked, and I jolted back into action, handing him his torta on a little styrofoam plate as well as the limes he’d requested. “You okay?”

“I’m great,” I grinned, because I was. My stomach growled, and I reached for my own burrito, sinking onto the mattress at Robin’s feet to dive in myself. Normally I was a slow eater. Careful about taking enough bites and chewing properly—but damn, fucking apparently took a lot out of me, because it felt like I blinked and my burrito was gone.

“Here,” Robin said without pausing. His torta bumped against my lips and I took a bite, sighing after I swallowed because it was fucking delicious .

“You don’t need to?—”

“Open up, gigantor.” Robin pushed his food against my lips again. I wanted to protest, because this was his food, but…I figured if he was offering it to me he wanted me to have it. I took another bite, and Robin made a pleased little sound.

When he tried to feed me a third bite, I ducked away, however, dabbing at my lips with a napkin, my heart thumping unsteadily.

No one had ever fed me before.

It was intimate in a different way than pushing inside his body had been. And I found myself floored by it, all over again.

“You want more?” he asked, only halfway through his food. I shook my head. “You suuuure?”

“Thank you,” I replied softly, enjoying the way he took a bite of his food, his cheeks puffing up. “I’m good.”

Robin ate like he perpetually thought he only had five minutes to get his food down. So it was funny how slow he was moving tonight. Like we’d switched places.

When he’d finished, I cleaned up, enjoying the way he watched me, those green eyes dark with heat. And then we showered together, the hot water pressure was ridiculously good. I made a mental note to have a shower head just like this one installed at my place—because it was heaven on my back.

Robin and I fell into bed together with a groan, clean and satisfied.

And for the rest of the weekend we repeated that pattern. We’d fuck, eat delicious food, and sometimes pop in a Christmas movie or two. Robin seemed to really like the ones that had snow—which was unsurprising after seeing his first reaction to it back home.

It was heaven.

Truly.

But on the last night, as we lay in bed, my heart fluttering, Robin curled up against my chest, I realized just how homesick I felt.

Like he’d read my mind, Robin’s voice echoed through the quiet, groggy and sweet. “I’m excited to go home tomorrow,” he hummed innocently, like he hadn’t realized what he’d just said at all.

“Yeah?” I murmured, stroking my fingers through his hair.

“I miss the girls,” Robin admitted, squeezing me tighter. “Not that I don’t love the manic sex-fest we’ve been having, because I do—like…so much.” His ass was well-fucked, cum slick between his cheeks, so I knew he was telling the truth.

Apparently Robin liked being bred as much as I liked breeding him.

“But I miss my lil mob bosses,” Robin wriggled and I squeezed him tight, pressing a kiss to his fluffy head.

“I miss them too,” I agreed, because I did. So much.

“You think Jane’s been practicing?” Robin asked quietly. “I gave her a bunch of tips, but she was still worried about the play.” The performance was on the twenty-third, right before Robin’s plane was due to depart back to L.A. It was a Christmas play, something the elementary school had thrown together with open doors for kids—even the ones too little to be real students—to participate in.

“We can go over her lines again when we get back,” I agreed. “She’ll appreciate that.”

“Rosie’s no help,” Robin sighed. “All she wants to talk about is her cat.”

“She’s almost to a hundred,” I informed him, because I’d forgotten to tell him earlier.

“No shit?” Robin perked up, his chin digging into my chest. “Oh my god. I bet she’s so excited.”

She was.

Her words came back to me, however—the innocent offer to give away all the money she’d earned and the opportunity for a pet, so that Robin would stay.

“Would you want to go pick one out with us?” I asked, stroking through his hair as his pretty lashes fluttered.

“When?”

“It’d be after Christmas.” We’d been so careful not to talk about what was happening after Robin returned home to L.A. I’d been terrified of scaring him off. But now…that fear was fading. After these last few days together I simply couldn’t fathom my world without him in it.

I would make it work, no matter what that took.

Even if it meant giving up Belleville and its peace.

“I…” Robin wavered, his face scrunching up sadly. “I’m not sure what my schedule will be like.”

“We can wait,” I promised, warming even more when he simply melted and offered me a big smile.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” I said, making room for him in my life because it was simple. Making room for him in our lives—because it was what the girls and I wanted. “They want you there.”

“Okay,” Robin grinned, eyes scrunching up happily. “Then fuck yeah, I’ll come.”

It was effortless to kiss him then, to imagine a world where all of this was easy. Where we got to keep him. A world full of Christmases like the movies, haunted houses, and pets. A world where Robin Johnson was ours forever, my missing other half.

December twenty-third crept up on us a lot sooner than I would’ve liked. Robin never went back to the B&B, aside from the single time to gather his remaining things and officially move them into my bedroom. I made room for him inside my closet and dresser, and he was so excited by that simple gesture that he’d fallen right to his knees and blown me.

Our mornings were a perfect mix of pancakes, toddler barbs, and Robin’s stories. He played with the girls like he always had—and now that he was officially unofficially living with us, had even more time to help coach Jane for the upcoming performance.

It was adorable watching him from the kitchen as he ran lines with the twins. Rosie had an easier time remembering hers, so she usually abandoned them only a few minutes in, but Jane remained just as stoic, just as serious as always.

“And Santa came down the chimney,” Robin repeated one night, waiting for Jane to echo him.

“And Santa came down the chimney,” she replied, voice quaking.

“With a big?—”

“With a big THUD!” Jane maybe screamed the last part, a little too loud, but Robin was not deterred. He clapped riotously, more than a little proud that she’d remembered her lines on her own—and spoken so loudly.

She had a hard time with that.

The speaking loudly part.

When Robin wasn’t coaching Jane, he was on the couch scrolling through humane shelter websites with Rosie. We all knew it was unlikely the pets they were looking at would be available come time to pick them up, but Rosie appreciated the time he took despite this.

It was an honor to watch Robin bond with my children.

And one night, only a few days before Robin was due to return to L.A. for good, I bit the bullet and asked him if I could tell people about us—Trixie first. He seemed surprised, probably because of our earlier conversation when I’d asked him if he wanted us to be a secret, and he’d said no—but otherwise just gave me a double thumbs-up and told me, “fuck yeah.”

“You’re dating someone?” Trixie’s voice was as soft as ever, quiet enough that even with the volume turned all the way up it was hard to hear her.

“I am,” I hummed.

I’d opted to call her on my last full day in office before the holidays. Obviously things happened, and as the town doctor, it was possible I still might get called in—but I liked to at least try to pretend my time was my own.

“What’s his name?” Trixie sounded as excited as I’d hoped she would. She’d always been my number-one fan. I missed her—especially hearing her voice like this—and I made a vow that the next time I went to L.A. I’d make a point to introduce her to Robin.

After I’d finished explaining the magic that was Robin Johnson, Trixie’s voice was somehow even softer.

“I’m happy for you,” she said, sweet as ever. “I really am.” She didn’t tell me how difficult it was going to be. Didn’t tell me about all the negatives of long distance—or lecture me about the age gap. All she asked was if he loved the girls, and when I answered yes—and told her he’d been more open with affection with them than he even had with me—she’d simply laughed. “I always wanted this for you,” she told me, cheesy as it was. “You deserve to be loved, Ben Montgomery.”

“I want it for you too,” I hummed, my heart fuller than it had ever been. “And ditto.”

“Wish granted,” she replied, an awkward lilt to her words that had me perking up.

“Trixie—” I jolted, more than a little surprised. “Are you seeing someone?”

“I am,” she hummed. “She’s lovely.”

“Oh my god. Bitch , why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me ?!” she countered.

I laughed.

For the next hour we chatted about our lovers, and it cooked up a scheme that I hoped would end well for me and Robin.

Because if there was one thing I wouldn’t tolerate, it was splitting up our family on Christmas. Performance or not. L.A. or not. And Trixie told me she would do everything in her power to help my plan come to fruition.

“THUD!” Jane’s voice echoed through the auditorium, tremulous but stronger even than it had been at home when she practiced. Robin was sitting beside me, a literal armful of bouquets at the ready for the girls. He was dressed in the clothes I’d bought him. A black ensemble, a big puff coat, fluffy black collar.

It was supposed to snow tonight.

Which made me nervous because Robin would be heading to the airport—and I worried about him. I’d wanted to drive him but he’d told me no. He wanted me to spend time celebrating after the performance with the girls, and assured me that he was more than happy to spend the trip with Miles and Bubba.

I didn’t have an argument for that.

Even though it felt a little like he was running.

I figured I’d be chasing him soon enough, however, not that he knew that—so I didn’t worry too much. Even though the thought of being without him even for a few days made me scared.

When the play was over, a line of kids—of all sizes and ages—dressed in varying elf, Santa, and tree outfits stood in a row on the stage. They held hands and bowed, the roaring of the crowd impossibly loud in the quiet space.

Belleville wasn’t a big town, and yet it seemed like every single member had come out tonight to support the kiddos. People lined the walls, all cheering and clapping. Jason, from the grocery store, stood at the back of the room, whistling—and beside him, Leanne, the bookstore owner, was grinning. She had one of my books in her hand, like she’d been reading during the intermission—and my cheeks burned.

Soon enough everyone would find out that I was the author. It was inevitable now that I’d been spotted with Robin and posted online. But I was…at peace with that. I only spared a single thought for my impending doom, before turning my attention back to the stage.

The twins hunted the crowd for us, the same way they had every time they’d marched their cute butts on stage. Rosie saw me first, her eyes going wide as she stood taller.

Jane spotted me next, her little eyes as wide as her sister’s as a sunny grin split across her face. She didn’t often smile like that, and it always made my heart hurt when she did. Warmth flooded through me as I beamed back at them, so fucking proud of what they’d just accomplished.

“That’s my girls!” Robin screeched from beside me, somehow the smallest, and loudest person in the whole room. I glanced down at him, half-tempted to kiss him just because he was so damn cute. He didn’t have eyes for me though. His attention was solely focused on our girls. “Fuck yeah!”

Rosie grinned, her eyes gleaming like she’d somehow heard his voice above the din of the crowd. She dropped the hand of the girl next to her and made a come hither motion with it—the same way she did every time Robin pulled money out of his pocket for her.

Robin cackled, his giant bouquets crinkling as he jumped up and down, and then he was racing through the aisle, and I was chasing him. The second we neared the stage, the twins were running too, leaping across the floorboards toward us, their sweet little red elf outfits bouncing. Robin dropped the flowers, ready to catch them as they neared the edge.

I grabbed Rosie before she could jump, trusting Robin to catch Jane. The girls were giggling like crazy, their sweet little laughs lighting up the air as Robin struggled to pick up the bouquets while still holding Jane. He managed somehow, and gave one to each of them, accompanied by an adorable cheek smack and a, “congratulations on being badasses.”

And then he handed Rosie two dollars, and she was wiggling in my arms, trying to get to him.

It didn’t even bother me that both the twins seemed to want Robin more than they wanted me.

And why would it?

When my world was a beautiful, wonderful place.

When I had everything I’d ever wanted.

And my heart was full, full, full.