I pulled my mint-green scarf a little tighter as I walked through the town. Forty-three degrees wasn’t that cold, but the wetness brought an added chill. The fog had fallen over Lavender Shores, making it even more magical looking than usual. I still couldn’t believe I was there.

My family had driven through Lavender Shores the few times we vacationed at Point Reyes National Seashore, which surrounded the town. They liked to eat at Mabel’s, but refused to spend the night, instead driving to nearby Olema. The reputation of Lavender Shores as a safe haven for the LGBTQ population was enough to make them avoid it, with the exception of Mabel’s. I doubted they realized Mabel was a lesbian. Although, maybe her Louisiana-style fried chicken was enough to allow my folks to put their religion on pause for a moment. I’m sure they looked back at our brief hours in this town and wondered if I’d caught the demon of homosexuality here—somewhere between the Craftsman and Victorian-style homes and Mabel’s creamed corn. Though I’d never said as much to them, I’d concocted an entire fantasy of escape, with Lavender Shores as the sparkling golden perfection at the end.

And now, here I was. Finally. It only took me twenty-six years. I guess that wasn’t too bad. Less than a decade after I left home. For a while, I’d been content in Stanford, then again in San Francisco. This tiny town became nothing more than my childhood fantasy. The city offered what I really needed.

And boy did it. A fresh start. A career. The love of my life. Heartbreak. Then more sex than a person is supposed to have in a lifetime. And at the bottom of it all, as I fell asleep in tears, little Lavender Shores called to me. Memories of Mabel’s at first. She really could do some fried chicken. Then the visions expanded to the charming shops downtown. The beautiful homes and picture-perfect neighborhoods. People not afraid to hold whoever’s hand they wanted to hold. Then stretched past the town borders and into the nature preserve. One of my degrees was in biology. Might as well surround myself with it. At least the sea lions and bobcats wouldn’t hurt me the way men seemed to do.

As soon as I walked into my new little house, one whose mortgage I could afford on a teacher’s salary, I felt at home for the first time in my life. The house was fine; it was the backyard that made it a no-brainer. I’d thought I felt at home before. In the apartment Levi and I shared. I’d been wrong. So, maybe twenty-six wasn’t so late. How many people found where they wanted to spend the rest of their lives before they even hit thirty?

Though maybe I was hiding.

Well, I knew I was hiding. Duh. But maybe that was okay. Where better to hide and find yourself? To start fresh once more and really become the man you were meant to be this go round.

Although fucking around with Gilbert the day before wasn’t exactly like starting over, was it? More like slipping into bad behaviors. Which I couldn’t let happen. I didn’t need a repeat of San Francisco. I couldn’t bring those shadows to this perfect town of my dreams.

I’d sat straight up in bed in the middle of the night, puzzle pieces clicking into place. Pieces that should’ve clicked the instant the lady in the steam room said Gilbert’s name. Gilbert Bryant.

Bryant.

Though I hadn’t even been in the town for half a year, I knew the Bryants. Founding family. The Bryants. The Kellys. The Epsteins. The Riveras. The Carlisles. All founding families. Town royalty, it seemed, and I’d fucked one. Or he’d fucked me. Whatever.

Shit.

I cast a glance at one of the gas streetlamps and paused. It was stunningly beautiful cloaked in the fog, a large Victorian home partly revealed in the mist behind it. Like a fairy tale.

I started to turn away, knowing I was dawdling and shouldn’t show up late, but the image changed, though just in my mind. Nothing else had shifted. Still beautiful, but suddenly ominous. Like a vampire would swoop out of the widow’s peak, dive through the fog, and drain me in the soft light of the gas lamp.

I was being ridiculous.

So what if I’d messed around with a Bryant? He’d been more than willing. But still, I was in no place to attempt that particular tightrope act. I couldn’t imagine why Gilbert would turn on me. Even if he didn’t want to do it again, surely he’d just leave well enough alone. But what if he had a partner? A husband, wife, something? Just because he’d said he was single, didn’t mean it was true. I’d fallen for that before. I couldn’t fall for it here. Not if I hoped to retain any part of my heart or reputation.

And suddenly I was there. The Kelly’s place. A huge mansion with pale green turrets and cream gingerbread accents. And completely covered in soft white Christmas lights. As were the trees on the sloping lawn.

My first Lavender Shores party. A combination engagement and Christmas party no less. At a founding family’s estate home. No pressure.

Suddenly feeling overheated, I loosened my scarf and adjusted my pageboy cap, lifting it to let the cool night air do its magic. I’d gripped the brass handle of the front door when another thought hit me. Again one much too slow and late, considering my supposed IQ, which as it was turning out, must have been an error in scoring, no matter what my degrees said. I was going to a party at the Kelly’s. At a founding family’s house. The other founding families would be inside. Of course they would. Probably including Gilbert.

A shadow passed behind the stained glass of the front door, and the knob twisted in my hand of its own accord. I stepped out of the way as the door opened and a pretty brunette stepped out. She glanced at me, then did a double take. “Walden! You made it!” She wrapped her arms around me in a quick, warm hug.

“Hi, Lacy.” I returned her hug, but my arms fell from her quickly, and I truly questioned my sanity. Lacy Bryant. Shit. Gilbert Bryant. Siblings? Cousins? Not that it mattered. Same difference. Unless she was his wife! Holy fuck. Wait, no. Lacy wasn’t married. Not his wife.

She tilted her head as she pulled back. “You okay? I promise it’s not that scary inside. It’s just an engagement party, sweetie. I know the social scene isn’t your thing, but I’m glad you came. Plus, I’d like to introduce you to my brother. The two of you are pretty different, but sometimes opposites attract.” She laughed at herself. “Sorry, that probably doesn’t help with the nerves. Me trying to set you up.” She motioned down the walk. “I’ll be right back. I left my purse in my car, and I have a gift for Andrew’s mom I meant to bring in. You go on inside. There’s some heated mulled wine in the kitchen. That’ll put your nerves at ease.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “And I love the red glasses! So festive. You should wear those to school next week. The kids will love them.” Then she was gone, her shoulder-length hair bobbing as she practically skipped down the front porch steps.

Her brother? She was going to introduce me to her brother? A Bryant, obviously. Holy shit, what if she introduced me to Gilbert? How was I supposed to play that off? I couldn’t look at her and be like Oh, we know each other. He used my ass so hard I was still feeling him this morning.

Or worse, what if Gilbert wasn’t her brother, but a cousin or something and she introduced me to whomever her brother actually was. Then Gilbert walks up, and it looks like I’m trying to fuck my way through the entire Bryant family?

Oh my God. I was losing my mind. Completely losing it and being stupid. None of that would happen. Even if Gilbert was there, we’d nod across the room and he’d pretend not to know me. I’d catch up with Lacy, meet her brother while making it clear I wasn’t on the market, say my congratulations to Andrew and Joel, and then hurry home and hide.

But first, mulled wine sounded like an excellent idea.

The inside of the house was as gorgeous as the outside. It glowed with warm colors, amber lighting, gleaming exposed wood, and tasteful and obviously expensive Christmas décor. And the people milling about were just as lovely. All wearing clothes that cost more than my beater of a car. And there I was in a tweed jacket from Goodwill and wearing a fucking pageboy cap and my damn red glasses. Lacy was right. I’d gone for festive; I should have gone for Fifth Avenue.

People smiled and nodded here and there as I cut my way through, searching for the kitchen. I had a flash of the Anne of Green Gables movies, when Anne was hired at the girl’s school with all the rich families. She’d been such an awkward mess. I was Anne. Completely out of my element, and so way out of my league.

I’d just stepped into the kitchen when I stopped dead in my tracks once more. Maybe I’d experienced some brain trauma when I’d smashed my skull into the wall twice in the steam room the day before. Anne’s love interest was Gilbert Blythe.

Seriously? Gilbert Blythe? Gilbert Bryant? You couldn’t make this shit up.

I had to remind myself that I wasn’t Anne Shirley. I wasn’t an orphan. I wasn’t redheaded. I wasn’t destined to marry Gilbert Blythe, Bryant, or McGillicutty, for that matter.

And I needed to leave. Mulled wine be damned. Good manners be damned. I’d drop a card off at Joel’s memorabilia shop downtown and call it good.

If I could just get out of there before Lacy returned, all would work out. Maybe there was a back door I could escape through. Of course, I could see myself getting trapped in their yard. The Kellys were fancy enough they probably had one of those hedge mazes complete with giant spiders and dementors.

I really needed to quit rereading Harry Potter.

Okay, no to the backyard escape. I’d just have to risk running into Lacy.

I turned around and smashed into someone, causing red wine to splash up onto the lenses of my glasses. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I completely didn’t mean—” I stopped talking. Fuck. My. Life.

Gilbert stared at me, an expression of shock crossing his face, and then a smile grew. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I swallowed. Shit. Shit. Shit. He looked amazing. Hair perfectly falling over his forehead, the scruff over his jaw just a bit closer than the day before. Again that look of effortless beauty that only money could buy. And not at all what I should be noticing. I dropped my gaze to the floor, but before it got there, it stuck on Gilbert’s chest and the deep purple stain over his pale blue shirt. “Oh shit. I’m so sorry. I got wine all over you.”

He chuckled softly. “Not a big deal. That’ll teach me to drink it quicker.” Gilbert glanced around. Looking for a husband, wife? Afraid someone would see us together? “What are you doing here?”

“I, uhm, was invited. I’ve met Joel and his fiancé—” Shit. Name, name, name. “—Andrew a few times. Great guys.”

“Yeah, they are. Andrew’s my best friend. I never dreamed you’d know him.” He scoffed, and his tone darkened. “But it’s fucking Lavender Shores, right? Everyone knows everyone and everything.” He gave a forced smile, and then his brown eyes narrowed. “You’ve got wine on your glasses, which are red, by the way.”

I pulled them off and used my tweed jacket to rub them, scratches be damned. “Yeah, I thought they were good for Christmas. And the engagement. The color of love and all that.”

He still grinned, but I couldn’t quite tell if it was in amusement or mockery. “They are. You sure look different when you’ve got clothes on. I’d never guess that—”

I couldn’t let him finish that sentence, no matter where it was leading. “Have you ever watched Anne of Green Gables?” Of course that was what I went with.

“Oh, for fuck.” This time there was no mistaking his expression. “I know what you’re going to say. And yes. That’s where my name came from. My dear, lovely mother worshiped those damn books her entire childhood. She claims they helped her escape Texas.” He threw his arms wide. “Meet the X-rated, damaged version of Gilbert fucking Blythe.”

I’d hit a nerve. Obviously. Spilt wine. Triggered… something. Again, time to go. “Sorry. Again. I’ll buy you a new shirt if I need to. But I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No, wait.” Gilbert’s hand shot out and gripped my arm. The motion seemed to startle him as much as it did me. He let me go almost instantly. “Sorry. You don’t need to leave. It’s not your fault I’m named after a ridiculous schoolgirl romance story.”

Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t keep my heart from leaping at the notion Gilbert wanted me to stay. Nor could I keep my mouth shut. “It’s all right. I was named after a pond. Which greatly distressed my parents when they realized Thoreau was allegedly gay.”

He crinkled his nose. “You were named after a pond?” Then his eyes widened. “Oh, Thoreau. Walden Pond. Your name is Walden?”

How had I missed that I hadn’t even told him my name the day before? All the things we’d done and I hadn’t even had an inkling of realization I hadn't told him my name? I really was slipping back into dark places. I tried to force a smile. “Uhm, yeah. Walden Thompson. After the pond.”

He laughed again, though the sound was warm and without a hint of mockery. “Well, seems like we both need to have a sit-down talk with our parents about how they chose names for their children.”

I’d hated my name growing up but had come to love it. Though I didn’t feel the need to share that with Gilbert. At least we had some common ground. Besides our talents in the bedroom, steam room… wherever. And why was I worried about common ground? I needed to flee from him, not try to build connections.

At that moment, Lacy hurried over, pulling a man behind her. A man twice her size. Even taller than me and built like a tank. Gorgeous, but in a dangerous way. Tattoos showed from the collar and cuffs of his shirt. She came to a stop in front of me and glanced at Gilbert. “Oh, hey. I didn’t see you finally got here.” Not waiting for a response, she looked back up at me as she gave a tug on the man’s arm. He dutifully followed her beckoning but looked miserable about it. “Walden, this is the brother I was telling you about.” Lacy smiled over at him. She looked like a five-year-old next to his mass. “Connor, this is Walden. He’s maybe the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”

The tattooed giant stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Ah, you too.”

As we shook hands, his gaze traveled to Gilbert. Then back to me. I glanced at the floor, over to Gilbert, felt my cheeks burn, then returned to Lacy’s brother. Connor’s hazel eyes narrowed, and then he grinned, looking suddenly relaxed and much less menacing. Connor let go of my hand and grinned down at Lacy. “Looks like you got the wrong brother, sis.”

Wrong brother?

Lacy looked back and forth between the two men, confusion evident, then clearing suddenly. “Oh.” She took a step back. “Oh.” Then another step back. “Oh.” She nodded slowly, and a slight blush rose in her cheeks.

Connor laughed and gave a nod in my direction. “Pleasure meeting you, Walden. I’m going to go out back to have a smoke. I’ll let you enjoy my awkward siblings. Good luck.” He elbowed Lacy lightly in the shoulder and walked past us into the kitchen.

I wanted to follow. At least he knew the way out. Even if there were dementors to contend with.

Lacy’s blush was in full force. “Sorry about that.” She directed the sentiment toward Gilbert, then shrugged at me. “I didn’t realize you already knew one of my brothers.”

I knew it. “You and Gilbert are brother and sister?” Of course they were. “I can see the resemblance. Same eyes and hair color.” Shit. I shouldn’t be talking about Gilbert’s eyes.

“We’re twins, actually.” Gilbert spared me a glance before turning a wary expression on Lacy. “How do you two know each other?”

Though I had no idea why, I could swear Lacy sounded like she didn’t want to admit the truth. “Walden works with me.” She sighed, like she was breaking bad news. “He’s the new science teacher at Lavender High.”

This time, Gilbert took a step back. “Oh.” Then another step back. “Oh.”

Look at that; they really were twins.

When he looked at me again, there was accusation in his gaze. “You’re a teacher?”

I nodded, though I wanted to lie, even if I wasn’t sure where that inclination came from. “Yes.”

“Oh.” His gaze darted around the room, seemingly not landing on anything. He didn’t look back at me. “I gotta go.” He started to move, then addressed Lacy. “Tell Andrew I had to jet, but I’ll call him tomorrow.” He was gone before she had time to respond.