Chapter Thirty-Three

Two months later.

"Dev?" Casey emerged from the cottage bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel around his waist, and padded into the bedroom.

Hmmm.No Dev. Nobody but Randolph Scott stretched out on the bed with Lizzie and Xander draped over him in the extreme kitten exhaustion that always followed their morning zoomies.

"Thanks for babysitting the kids, big guy. You know they get lonely if Dev and I aren't around." He scratched Randolph Scott's ears and got a rumbling purr in response. "Although I think you see them more as fashion accessories, since brown tabby coordinates so well with your fur."

Casey saw it as a win-win, actually. The kittens that he'd adopted after he'd officially moved in with Dev—surprisingly, Uncle Walt had adopted their brother, Huck—would also keep Randolph Scott from indulging in mouse murder, which was absolutely crucial today.

He briefly considered heading in search of Dev with only the towel for clothing, since that could result in some very interesting uses of furniture, not to mention the floor and walls, but they had a jam-packed agenda today, and Home's residents considered doors a suggestion rather than an actual boundary. Although after Kenny had walked in on Dev and Casey, er, in medias res, as it were, he at least knocked first.

Casey opened the walk-in closet. After Kenny had outfitted it with new rods and drawers and shelves, it held both Casey's and Dev's clothes very comfortably, especially since neither one of them were precisely fashion plates. Today, though, Casey wanted to take a little more care with his appearance.

Because today was an extra special day.

So instead of his usual uniform of worn jeans and a sweatshirt, he donned his best pair of chinos, a pin-striped button-down, and the forest green cashmere V-necked sweater that was so soft Dev couldn't keep his hands off it whenever Casey wore it.

Dev's hands always calmed Casey's nerves—that is, when they weren't driving him out of his senses. But Dev was a master at understanding when Casey needed soothing rather than arousal, and today was definitely a soothing kind of day.

He pulled on the hand-knitted socks he'd bought from one of the knitters at Simple Gifts and wiggled his toes, smiling at the pattern of red, orange, and gold leaves that matched the colors on the trees all over Home.

Leaf-peeper season, Pete called it with a grunt and grumble, but considering he'd been waxing the Home Grown van all week, not to mention shining up his Uber/Lyft car, Casey didn't take his grousing too seriously.

He slipped on his loafers and trotted out to the living room. Dev was standing at the window, facing the field, his phone to his ear.

"You sure it's okay? Kenny said he can install whatever storage you need, and knows a guy who can upgrade the electrical if— Okay, cool. I'll let him know you're good to go, then." Dev chuckled. "Looking forward to it. Later."

"Was that Haru?" Casey wrapped his arms around Dev's waist and leaned his chin on his shoulder.

"Yep. He's all settled in. Finished setting up his studio last night. Owen's been helping him, when he hasn't been underfoot at Ty's clinic or haunting Make It Do and driving Kenny bonkers." He turned in the circle of Casey's arms and smiled down at him. "Hey."

Casey kissed him. "Hey, yourself."

"You look great." He smoothed his hands down Casey's back. "I love this sweater."

Casey smirked at him. "I know." He bit his lip. "Does it bother you that POV broke up?"

"Honestly? No. It wasn't my band anymore. Hadn't been for a long time. I'm just glad Haru, Owen, and Eli found soft landings though."

"I can't believe Eli's off at a retreat somewhere."

"He's not at a retreat, babe. He's running the retreat. Meditation through music or something." Dev twirled one of Casey's curls around his finger. "Call me vindictive, but I can't say I'm sorry that Nash's solo career fizzled like a wet sparkler."

"Vindictive," Casey said, deadpan.

Dev tugged on the curl. "Smartass."

"I still think we should have set him up with Bradley."

"Now who's being vindictive?" When Casey raised his hand, Dev laughed. "You ready for today?"

"As I'll ever be. What are you looking forward to?"

Dev's grin turned filthy. "Peeling you out of this sweater, not to mention your shirt and pants." He waggled his eyebrows. "Are you wearing those new briefs? The mesh ones?"

Casey arched an eyebrow. "You'll have to wait to find out." He so was, although he had to order them by the dozen because Dev had a tendency to tear them off. Sometimes with his teeth. "But that's not what I meant. What are you looking forward to with Haru?"

"We're recording our first track today." He kissed Casey. "Wanna know what it is?"

"Judging by the sounds emanating from the practice room at Harrison House—which, by the way, are completely audible from here and maybe all over Home—I'd say…" He still got a little jangle in his belly whenever he thought about it. "I'd say it's ‘Wait for It.'"

"Yup. Do you want…" Dev's voice went a little hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "That is, would you like to be there? In the studio?"

Jingle jangle. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Are you kidding?" Dev's arms tightened around him. "Babe, I wrote the song for you. And even Haru says that I perform it better when you're in the audience." He nuzzled Casey's neck and whispered, "He says the love shows in my voice."

Okay, now that wasn't fair. He glared at Dev so the prickle behind his eyes wouldn't spill over and poked his chest with both forefingers.

"There should be a town ordinance that nobody's boyfriend is allowed to say things like that to them right before they walk out the door for a very important event." Casey looked down his nose—hard to do with a boyfriend who was half a head taller. "You're the town manager. You should take care of that."

Dev's smile was wicked. "Why? Heart pounding? Knees weak?" He murmured into Casey's ear again. "Cock hard?"

"Stop it. Stop it right now." Wincing, Casey slapped both palms on Dev's chest and pushed him away—although he fisted a hand in Dev's fisherman's sweater and tugged him back for a last—very quick!—kiss. "We can't be late. Sylvia would be devastated. You wouldn't want to do that to her."

Dev sighed and stepped away. "You're right. Sorry. We'll have time later." He held out a hand. "Let's go."

Casey laced his fingers with Dev and they stepped out of the cottage together. A chilly breeze hit them the minute they stepped onto the porch, cutting right through Casey's sweater.

"Brrr. Maybe I should bring a jacket. Vermont is a lot colder in October than Manhattan usually is."

"Nah," Dev said as he closed the door behind them. "Once we're out in the sun, you'll be glad of the breeze."

"If you say so. Clearly, I'll have to toughen up if I expect to make it through my first legendary Vermont winter."

Dev chuckled as he led Casey down the steps and across the sunny meadow toward Harrison House. "It's not so bad as long as you're dressed for it. Don't let Pete's apocalyptic stories scare you."

"It's not Pete's stories. It's Kenny's." Casey shivered. "Pete says nothing but mmmphmmm, which might be more terrifying. I mean, what's he not saying?"

"Don't worry, babe." Dev dropped a kiss atop Casey's head. "I'll keep you warm."

"I'll hold you to that."

When they reached the summer kitchen, Casey knocked on the door and peeked inside. Sylvia, wearing a rust-colored duster over her chef's whites, was pacing in front of her office door, cell phone to her ear.

"You can tell him from me that I never poach anybody." She spotted Casey and raised a hand in greeting. "At least not without brandy or a nice court bouillon. It was Deborah's own decision to stay here after she finished the advanced class last month. If he doesn't want to lose key staff, he should start treating them better. And honestly, Walt, why is he complaining to you?" She winked at Casey. "Just because you've been recommending my classes, it's not like you've been encouraging people to jump ship at all the Pillsbury Dickboy's restaurants. Will we see you soon? Okay. Good. Ciao." She flicked the screen with her thumb and tucked the phone into her pocket. "Chalk another one up for your uncle. He's relentless."

Casey hadn't been all that shocked when Uncle Walt had severed his business relationship with Bradley. He'd actually listened and taken Casey's warnings to heart. But when he and Dev had bonded over losing their brothers unexpectedly, he'd gone a step further and started to weaponize the connections he still had in the restaurant business and begun systematically dismantling Bradley's little empire from the inside. Between that and taking over management of the Harrison investment portfolio—much to Dev's heartfelt relief and gratitude—Casey suspected he'd be relocating to Home when he retired in a few years.

Casey peered behind Sylvia into the office. "Where is Deborah?"

"She's been on site since before dawn. Supervising, she claims, but I suspect she won't be able to resist getting in on the action." Her smile turned more natural and more than a touch eager. "Ready?"

"Absolutely."

She patted her hair. "Do I look all right?"

Casey smoothed one errant silver strand behind her ear. "Perfect. Besides, you know the fans love it even more when one or both of us looks a little frazzled. It makes them feel better about their own efforts."

He and Sylvia, with Haru as camera operator and producer, had launched a web channel called Cooking for the Culinarily Clueless, which featured Sylvia attempting to teach Casey how to make dishes of varying difficulty. They posted two episodes a week featuring recipes simple enough for beginners to master without too much trouble, and every other week they added another with a more challenging dish.

When they discovered that the audience's—half a million subscribers and growing!—favorite episodes were the ones where Casey crashed and burned in a major way, they'd added another feature: Any viewer who wanted to pay a premium could request a particular recipe. They'd done two so far, and the response had been fantastic.

And they'd channeled all the proceeds into the venture that was launching today.

"Are you nervous?" he asked her.

"Not really." She smiled at Dev when he held the door for her. "Are you?"

Casey nodded, but when she frowned, he held up both hands. "Not about your part. I know you'll be brilliant. I'm just worried that nobody will discover that brilliance. I want this to work."

Dev captured both their hands. "It will. You've each done a terrific job with promotion. Aren't Summer Kitchen's sessions booked solid from now until April?"

"Well." Casey crossed his fingers lest he jinx them. "Yes."

"And vendors have already started calling for spots in next summer's Home Grown?"

"Yeeesss." He'd had three messages waiting on his phone when he woke up today, making that an even dozen this week alone and it was only Tuesday.

"And isn't Shira begging you to partner with the resort and make the antique fair a joint annual event after Bradley bailed on her?"

Casey gave Dev a narrow-eyed look. "Also yes. But this is different."

"Don't think of it as different. Think of it as…. as Home growing. It'll be great." He kissed Casey softly. "I'll stake my town management career on it."

"I'd feel much better about that if you actually wanted a town management career," Casey said tartly.

"You know," Dev said as they headed down Main Street, "it's actually… growing on me."

Casey rolled his eyes. "Don't quit your day jobs, Dev. Music and town management are one thing, but your stand-up chops need serious work."

Dev just laughed, but as they cut between the Market and the Historical Society, Casey held his breath until they stepped out onto East Road.

Then he choked when he tried to inhale into lungs already full.

The road in front of Ty's clinic/shelter was full of people, the crowd spilling off the sidewalk in front of their destination: a neat, clapboard bungalow that until six weeks ago had been empty. But now, a rainbow Grand Opening banner was swagged over its wide plate-glass front window. The hand-lettered wooden sign above its double front doors was a collaboration between Kenny and the Artists United co-op:

Home Cooking.

And beneath it in smaller letters: Open for breakfast and lunch, seven days a week.

Dev smiled down at Casey. "See? What did I tell you?"

"Oh my god." Casey clutched Dev's hand with both of his, belly tumbling. "We've only got fifteen tables. How are we going to fit everybody in?"

Sylvia gave a contented sigh. "Same as at any popular restaurant. First come, first served. And since it's time to let the first diners in, you'll both need to excuse me. I'm sure Deborah's got things well in hand, but I want to lend my support." She strode off down the street, cutting down the alley to reach the kitchen entrance.

Casey leaned into Dev. "You think it'll really work?"

Dev tucked Casey closer against his side. "Home hasn't had a restaurant since the Inn closed. The locals will support it during the off-season, and the tourists will flock here in the fall and summer. Who knows? We might get the ski crowd in the winter too, if the roads don't get too bad." He placed a finger under Casey's chin and tilted his head up. "It's a good thing you did, Casey."

Casey met Dev's loving gaze. "It wasn't just me. It was all of us. And it won't take one restaurant, one successful festival, or even the surge in Summer Kitchen's popularity to save Home. Not entirely."

"Maybe not." Dev took Casey's hand and drew him toward the restaurant. "But it's a start. Now let's go have breakfast. I'm pretty sure Sylvia saved us a table."