“Zach. You can’t.”
Zach mimicked those puppy-dog eyes. “It’s a gift.”
Noah stepped back from the Power of Puppy. “It’s not an appropriate gift.”
“But we love animals.”
“That doesn’t change facts. We can’t afford to take care of a dog—and I don’t just mean food. There are vet expenses. Toys, beds, leashes, grooming, pet-sitting. This is not a decision to make on a whim. And it’s certainly not something you gift someone you’ve known for a week. It’s a responsibility we can’t afford to take on.”
But . . .
Only, his brother was right. If he’d stopped to think for even a minute, he’d have come to the same conclusion. He sighed. “One day, I’m gonna have a dog.”
With a heavy heart, he turned and placed the wriggling bundle back in Jack’s arms.
Jack cradled the pup and winked. “Name her. I’ll keep her myself. Maybe someday she can be yours.”
Zach’s heart rocketed back to his chest, and he gazed at Jack until he disappeared from view.
The world floated around him. Red feature walls, bookshelves, a gilded mirror reflecting his dreamy smile. He starfished onto the soft rug.
Romance.
This was it.
Noah skirted around him and curled up on the armchair with his book. Minutes passed and the page didn’t turn. The middle distance had swallowed his brother whole.
Zach crawled over. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
He hugged his brother’s knees.
Noah cleared his throat. “This cottage is wonderful. We couldn’t have found a better place. Thank you.”
“I mean, it’s not quite home.” Their childhood leaped before his eyes, the beautiful Victorian always in the backdrop.
A hand patted his head. “Give it time, Zachary.”
“Maybe . . . maybe if we got that painting in here . . .”
Noah’s hand froze and Zach let the wish go on a long sigh.
The clock above the mantelpiece ticked loudly.
“Why hasn’t Wade come out here? It’s been two weeks. Surely he’s back by now.”
“Um, no. He and Luc were here last week, but they didn’t get everything. He drove back for the last load. He’s coming back tomorrow. Hopefully.”
“Could you take time off work and spend the day with him?”
The idea sparkled in Noah’s eyes. It faded too quickly. “We’re releasing another group of penguins. I’m in charge of the volunteers, I can’t. Besides, Wade’s hanging out with Francesca and Robby.”
“Robby?”
“His younger brother.”
Zach rested his head against Noah’s knee and joined him in the middle distance. “I’m sorry. You miss him.”
Noah clapped his book shut and stood. “I should sort out afternoon brunch. Everyone’s coming here this time.”
“It’s eleven. I thought brunch wasn’t until three?”
“There’s lots to prepare.” Noah paused. “One must be practical.”
“Must one?” Zach looked up into green eyes so much like his own. Yet Noah’s green was drowning in determination and courage and parental consternation.
“Yes,” Noah said decisively. “Practical and realistic.”
The pointedness of that . . . “What are you saying, bro?”
Noah perched on the arm of the chair, closer to his level. His voice was kind. “You’re very taken with Jack, aren’t you?”
“Have you not seen the man? Have you not heard him?”
“He certainly knows how to put on the charm.”
“Put on? What do you mean?”
“I just . . . I worry you’re falling for the wrong person.”
The wrong— “No! He hasn’t once tried to sleep with me. We have all the same interests. Hours pass just talking.”
“It’s only . . . Be careful who you give your heart to.”
“Jack will treat it well!”
“You’ve only known him a week, and of that you’ve spent less than a dozen hours together.”
“Sometimes you can know more about a person in a dozen hours than in a dozen years.”
“You think you know Jack that well?”
“I know him almost as well as I know you.”
“What about Brandon?”
“Brandy and I . . . it’s different. I don’t know him anywhere near enough yet. Every time I see him I’m surprised by something new. Another side of him. He has layers; they’ll take years to undress.”
“And Jack, you know. Like an open book. Won’t you be bored if you’ve already finished reading him?”
“There’ll be other things. Deeper understanding. Growth. Sex. I can’t believe you dislike Jack Willoughby!”
“I don’t dislike him. It’s just . . . you aren’t always careful.”
Zach pushed to his feet and tugged his brother up into a hug. “And you aren’t ever carefree.”
Brunch turned into an evening picnic on the lawn. His brother’s usual party of five—himself, Wentworth and Elliot, Finley and Ethan—swelled with Zach crashing the party, and swelled again when Brandy returned unexpectedly early from work.
He looked like a contradiction. Worn out, shirt undone at the collar, rolled at the sleeves; impeccably fresh, the iron lines of his shirt and pants sharp. He smelled like soap from a recent shower, and his blue eyes looked like they hadn’t friended sleep in days.
Zach kept the man close, using every inch of dialogue-free air to ask about his day and whether he stopped for lunch and if he might take a nap soon, and if . . . he’d missed him.
