Page 18 of Sheep Calm and Merry On
BY THE time the kids finished running Noah and Devon ragged, Bronwyn and Gable had dinner on the table—and the kitchen counters, and the server in the dining room. Electric warming dishes Noah remembered from their childhood held stuffing or mashed potatoes. Gable must’ve had Mom bring them, or else he borrowed them for the occasion.
From the looks of things, Bronwyn had borrowed her parents’ too. Noah should really get to know her better, since she was married to his brother, and one day he might be married to hers.
Jesus. What did you get someone to make up for missing that wedding?
In any case, they all got called in to grab a plate and whatever spot they could scrounge to sit, and Devon took one look at Noah’s face—he’d overdone it outside, and the volume and activity in the house weren’t helping; he was starting to see halos—and led him downstairs, where he turned off the overhead lights and flipped on a lamp across the room instead.
“What don’t you like?” he asked when Noah was lying on the couch with a bag of peas from the basement freezer on his head.
“Just don’t let the cranberry sauce touch the gravy,” Noah said, pathetically grateful. He could’ve swooned, but he was already lying down.
Two rescues in as many days. He was going to get spoiled.
“Okay, the sweet and salty bits touching is the best part,” Devon said, “so that’s weird and wrong, but I’ll do it for you, sweetheart.” He pressed his lips to the back of Noah’s hand before going back upstairs.
His departure gave Noah a moment to catch his breath, take one of the emergency pre-migraine pills he’d stuffed in his pocket, and reflect for a minute.
So. Devon hadn’t called him, but he’d wanted to. Noah had heard a lot of lines from a lot of guys over the years, but he had no problem believing that. Devon was kind of a mess—a sweet mess with a messier, bitter past, but still sweet. Noah had known him less than forty-eight hours, and in that time, he’d rescued a stranded motorist, sung a lullaby to his sheep, and frozen his ass off for an hour to spend time with Noah and a bunch of kids playing a sport that had broken his body and his mind.
Besides, it had only been a day and a half, and it was Christmas. Noah could give him the benefit of the doubt, in the spirit of the holidays.
Especially since Devon returned down the stairs a few moments later with two plates of food, two bottles of water shoved in his pockets, a fistful of cutlery, and a paper dessert plate clenched between his teeth.
“I told my cousins they’re in charge of their own kids for the next couple hours,” he said when he’d put the food down. “Uncle Noah needs a nap.”
“Uncle Noah just needs quiet and half an hour for his medicine to kick in,” Noah mumbled, managing a weak smile. The low light and the ice were already helping. “And some food. Maybe an early bedtime.”
He winced at that. His car was still sitting in a shop somewhere in Indian River. He’d gotten a ride here with his parents. They’d want to close the party down; his mom could never resist a family gathering.
Maybe Devon read his mind, because he offered, “I could drive you home, if you want.” Then he flushed. “Uh, to your place, I mean—if—or mine, if you wanted.”
Noah had never met anyone who liked him so obviously and was so incapable of being chill about it. It was extremely endearing—it made him feel warm and cozy and cared for and just… special. It had been a while since anyone made him feel special.
Noah picked up his fork and smiled, glanced up through his eyelashes. “That wouldn’t be breaking one of your rules?” He wanted to say yes, obviously, but not at the expense of Devon’s sobriety.
“Sweetheart.” Devon said it like he couldn’t help it, like that was just the word that came out when he was talking to Noah. He blushed every time. It was doing awful, wonderful things to Noah’s heart. “I already spent one night with you, and it wasn’t enough.”
The worst part was Noah was helpless to stop himself from blushing back. Eventually one of them was going to die of an aneurysm. “Well, full disclosure, I’m currently staying with my parents until I can find a place to rent.”
He was putting a bite of turkey in his mouth when his eyes met Devon’s, and they both froze and looked up.
Finally Noah chewed and swallowed. “Both sets of our parents are up there.”
Devon was still looking at the ceiling too. “Yep.”
“Potentially talking to each other.”
In his peripheral vision, he caught Devon’s nod. “Yep.”
“Probably about us.”
“That seems likely.”
Noah bit his lips, took a few deep breaths. Ate a few more bites of food. Swallowed, still chewing over the problem in his mind. Offered, “I like you a lot, but I don’t think I’m ready—”
At the same time, Devon blurted, “Do you think we can sneak out the back?”
They met eyes again. Devon was still blushing, probably for a different reason now.
