Page 112 of The Long Way Found

“Don’t get cocky, baby,” Mara said to her husband as their kids skated with easy confidence toward their grandmother, Patty, who took one in each hand.

Luke emerged from the locker room, the very picture of ’80s fashion, wearing neon blue shorts over yellow leggings, a faux-satin tank top, all topped off by, yes, a terrycloth headband.

He skated gracefully and athletically, unburdened, celebrating joy and freedom.

The roller rink was a kaleidoscope of the uncapped, inclusive joy Luke loved about The Ridge at its best. The title song from “Xanadu” was playing when Dale and Evan skated by, and Evan told Luke proudly, “We saw this one at the theater!”

Luke felt a hand on his waist.

Jack was there, looking slightly ridiculous on skates, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled up to reveal the sinewy forearms Luke knew so well.

“You’re terrible at this, Colonel,” Luke shouted over the music.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Jack laughed, drawing Luke closer as the crowd swirled around them. “This isn’t one of them.”

They moved together, a messy, joyful glide toward the center of the rink. Jack rested his hand on Luke’s shoulder for support. The neon light turned Jack’s hair a strange, electric blue. Their movements were comical and endearing, and somehow they looked like a perfect match.

At some point, drenched and breathless, with the fast-paced songs quieting down and as the Olivia Newton-John ballad “Magic” began, Jack paused. He looked at Luke with a bemused smile, as if it were occurring to him for the first time, and there was no reason to hesitate: “I love you, Luke.”

He said it simply, as if it were a natural fact.

Luke stumbled a bit on his skates as a couple of girls zoomed past them.

He smiled up at Jack. “I love you, too, Cash.”

Luke grabbed the sides of Jack’s head, and they came in for a kiss, spinning slowly with the ease of roller-disco pros. Jack lifted him by the armpits with no effort and a twinge of awe.

“Have to believe we are magic…”

The crowd rolling by whooped, hollered, and clapped. People nearby joined in for a moment.

Luke pulled Jack’s head to him and took it all in, not even worried that Jack might stumble. That was impossible now.

Jack brought Luke back down to earth and leaned in close to Luke’s ear.

“Hallicks said this was from the original Calder donor trust, the same one that backs the foundation that owns The Ridge. They wanted to make sure the anchor of their investment had a proper celebration,” Jack said, pulling a heavy, weighted brass key from his pocket.

Luke looked at the key, then up at Jack’s face, at the fierce, protective light in Jack’s glacial blue eyes. “What is that?”

“The Summit Spire,” Jack murmured, referring to the private lodge atop the peak. “Fireplace, balcony, and absolute privacy. For you. For us. Tonight.”

Luke blinked, the exhaustion finally catching up to his adrenaline. “But what about…”

“Amir has it,” Jack said, caressing Luke’s cheek. “And Marley is already there.”

Luke stared at him, overwhelmed by the man’s quiet competence. “You’ve been planning a kidnapping?”

“I’ve been planning a private celebration after this public one,” Jack corrected, with that slight, crooked-nose smirk playing on his face. “You’ve done enough tonight, Beaumont. Let’s go.”

Luke looked back once—at the neon lights, the skaters, and the smiles. Then he reached out and took Jack’s hand.

“Lead the way.”

CHAPTER 43

JACK

They drove in silence through the starlit night, halfway up the hill to the Midpoint Lodge, with Luke’s head resting on Jack’s shoulder the entire drive, his hand softly stroking Jack’s inner thigh.