distance,” Bartholomew said, “but the location. That means something.” He frowned. “Magic always means something. Showing up at your door—that’s important.”
“I don’t know magic for shit,” Lachlan said baldly. “I was just asking him what he wanted in his coffee. We have some chocolate creamer. It’s not bad.”
Simon gave him a grateful look. “Sounds amazing,” he said. “I’ll take it.”
“Yeah,” Lachlan continued as he set about prepping two mugs. “We stopped by Starbucks, but I’m one of those guys who can drink a pot before breakfast and then one for lunch. I know Alex here usually drinks tea, but he’s looking pretty ragged, right?”
“I’m back to tea this morning,” Alex said. “Simon gave me the day off.”
“Good,” Bartholomew said, getting out small plates. “Jordan needs to call in too. I don’t think he’s sleeping well in Helen’s cottage, and it’s starting to show.”
Alex grunted. “Would you sleep well in there all by yourself?”
Lachlan shuddered. “I wouldn’t sleep well in there surrounded by romance book heroes and heroines with a solid padding of fluffy bunnies. It’s getting… like, purple. There’s this stain we put on wood that looks like alien blood—dark and almost black, but purple. It looks like that stain is gradually seeping all over the damned cottage. We need to fix that.”
“Yeah, but it’s not the first item on our list,” Alex said grimly. Next to his feet, Glinda whined, and he scooped her up, allowing the little dog to lick his face. Simon—already sort of invested in his crush as it was—felt his heart twist just a little more. Alex didn’t look like that kind of guy, the guy who would take dog licks on the chin. He looked perfectly reasonable and organized and very dedicated to “there’s a time and place,” and Simon had been sort of attracted to that.
So different from the flash and sparkle he was usually searching for.
But the truth was Simon was a mess who wore the same clothes every day so he didn’t have to risk being told his tie was out of date or that red made him look like a Republican. And this Alex, with the hair sticking up in places and the stubble sprouting patchily on his chin, dressed in sweats like he could curl up in a ball and go to sleep—this Alex was a far cry from the organized, perfectly reasonable man Simon was used to.
And Simon thought—a little wretchedly, it was true—that this Alex might forgive him for being the complete and total idiot asshole git that he became sometimes when he wasn’t paying attention.
Maybe, just maybe, Alex was like Simon too. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Simon thought longingly of those clever green eyes gazing into Simon’s face, staring at him like the next touch of Simon’s fingertips on his skin would be the best thing to ever happen to him.
Yeah. He wanted that again.
“What is the first item on your list?” he asked, trying to pull his brain out of the muddle of longing and hope Alex’s warmth had instilled inside him during their walk.
He glanced around, waiting for an answer, and realized that Alex, Bartholomew, and Lachlan were all doing a synchronized eyeball dance around him, and his hope abruptly faded.
He really wasn’t in this little club, was he?
“Never mind,” he said on a sigh. “Above my paygrade. I hear you. I’ll just stick to coffee and cinnamon rolls.”
“Lucky you,” Lachlan said kindly, setting a mug of coffee on the table and gesturing for him to sit. “We have both.”
Simon followed directions listlessly, only cheered a little when Alex came to sit next to him. The table wasn’t huge, but as Simon looked around, he realized it was oddly proportioned.
“Does this table seat seven?” he asked, and Lachlan chuckled.
“It does indeed! My own design. What do you think?”
Simon ran his hands over the handsome piece. It was raw pine, finely sanded and stained, so while it didn’t exactly fit in with the suburban home décor, it was beautiful enough that nobody was going to complain that it didn’t match.
“You did this? Nice work!”
“It’s a living,” Lachlan said happily. “Barty does such great work baking. He made these cookies for my mom on Saturday, and now she wants to commission him to make them for her clients. She works with kids who’ve had the worst days of their lives, right? Anyway, these cookies are like a little bit of sunshine. It’s gorgeous. They make those kids so happy. And I had quite a bit of