I drove straight from the firm in San Francisco to Donovan’s. I’d been a beast in the courtroom all day, even more than normal. Actually, that had been truer with every passing day. Part of me pretended it was due to stressing over everything. That worrying about the fallout of Donovan and I was getting to me and I was taking out my frustrations in the courtroom. The truth was so much worse. My feelings were hurt.

I had made every single move on Donovan. Granted, the first one was sort of anonymous, but still. After our time in the shower, it made sense that he needed time to think things through. But I wanted to believe he wanted me as much as I wanted him. That he’d throw caution to the wind. Now that we’d crossed that line, every fiber of my being needed him. The Donovan-shaped matches I’d kept dousing with water since the night I met him had been struck, and I was on fire. Every moment the kids weren’t with me was a struggle to keep from going over to Donovan’s. It seemed he wasn’t having that problem. So, yeah, I was a raging terror in the courtroom, locking up cases right and left, all because I was acting like a butt-hurt teenager.

After yesterday’s little scene at Mabel’s, I’d had enough. Pausing at his front door, I collected my emotions. The last thing I wanted was for him to see how hurt I was. It was embarrassing enough to admit such ridiculous things to myself. I didn’t need him being aware of it. I knocked and only had to wait for a moment before Donovan answered.

He only looked partially surprised. “Hi. I wondered if you’d stop by soon.”

That served to irritate me further. Obviously, he saw me as a pathetic little puppy who was going to come begging. My irritation was short-lived, or at least distracted, when I glanced down at his shirtless chest. Pathetic puppy or not, it took every ounce of my willpower not to reach out and touch him.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Donovan shut the door.

I almost expected to hear the click of the lock, guaranteeing that I wouldn’t follow him into the shower or something this time. And fuck me if that wasn’t tempting. More as an act of rebellion than anything else, I turned and walked across the porch and took the same place on the swing as I had the other day.

Within a couple of minutes, the front door opened and Donovan emerged, a loose T-shirt covering his sexy chest. I needed to pick which emotion I was going to stick with. Irritated or aroused.

Donovan paused on his way across the porch. “I should’ve asked, do you need the restroom? Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m good, thanks.”

Donovan also took the same seat he had the other day.

“So, I figured we needed to talk. Especially after running into each other at Mabel’s.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I didn’t invite you in. I figured we’re more likely to actually talk out here.”

I couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “You think it’s safe we won’t give the neighbors a show?”

He shrugged, his lips curving into a wicked half-grin.

God, the thought of that. Pouncing on him out here, in front of everyone. Not giving a shit. Maybe we weren’t much safer out here than inside.

“Sorry about last night.”

That wasn’t what I wanted him to be sorry for. Though I hated that I wanted him to be sorry for anything. “It wasn’t your fault, Donovan. If anything, it was mine. I guess I’m not used to having to consider where Erica is having her date. I could at least look in the damn windows and see who’s there before I walk in.”

“Small town.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it.” Words failed me after that, and I used my heels to make the porch swing rock slightly. I started to fidget with my wedding ring, then remembered it was gone. Instead, I loosened the knot of my tie. I hadn’t even realized I was still wearing it.

He cleared his throat, and from the corner of my eye I noticed him adjust himself. I couldn’t help but look, then lifted my gaze to his. Donovan’s cheeks darkened. “Sorry, you’ve always looked crazy hot in a suit.”

I glanced down at his crotch, and sure enough, his bulge was growing. A suit, huh? I dropped my hands away from my tie. I wasn’t going to get distracted by sex, no matter how much I wanted to. “I kinda thought you’d call or stop by after….” Shit, even I could hear the hurt in my voice.

Donovan flinched. “You wanted me to?”

I met his gaze but couldn’t answer. I’d already been too vulnerable the way it was.

“Do you honestly think I didn’t want to? I’ve spent the past couple of days running so much that I need to buy new running shoes. And I’m not even saying that figuratively.”

Relief cut through me at the sincerity of his words. Unfortunately, it allowed the irritation to return. “Donovan, of course I wanted you to. I’m not sure how I could be any clearer.”

He snorted. “I guess you couldn’t be really. I just….” He shrugged. “It’s a lot, you know? So many complicated details that I thought I needed to figure out. I know I want you. I guess the possibility of maybe being able to actually have you is a bit mind-blowing. Up until a few days ago you were my straight brother-in-law. The epitome of the untouchable fantasy. I still can’t quite believe this is happening. I’d chalked up the times I’d thought I felt… something from you as just projecting my own desire.”

I’d spent so much of my life terrified that someone would notice it in me that part of me believed everyone saw it. That they all agreed to look the other way or pretend that they didn’t notice, just to be nice. But there was proof, even Donovan, who had known me for so long, and made his living off understanding people, had been fooled. I glanced around, checking to see if anybody was walking by. No one was, but I lowered my voice anyway before looking back at him. “You really didn’t know? All this time?”

Donovan hesitated, his mouth moving but no words coming. “I, ah….” He scowled. “Like I said, I thought I felt an attraction from you from time to time, but I didn’t dwell on it. I didn’t let myself consider that you might actually be gay. Which… you are. Obviously.”

I hated that talking about this still stirred up so much shit in me. “Does it really matter? If I’m gay, if I’m not, do we really have to label it? Does it change things?”

“Honestly, Spencer, I don’t know. On the one hand, I feel like a shit brother to Erica for lusting after her husband for the past ten years. On the other, I’m trying to decide what’s best for the family, what’s best for the kids, what’s best for you, and I keep coming back to the fact that I want you. Pure and simple.” His words tumbled out, like rapids over stones, so fast and forceful that they were almost hard to understand. “Part of me thinks I should stop this right now, should’ve stopped it before it started, but I don’t know how to turn away from you. I don’t want to.”

The night I met Donovan Carlisle was emblazoned in my mind. It was a moment I’d never forget. A moment that broke me, and one I still couldn’t believe I’d survived. I’d thought I had put all my homosexual desires away. Believed that all the prayers of my family, and my own prayers, had finally been answered.

From the night I’d met Erica, it seemed like the miracle we’d all been waiting for had finally occurred. Those short months had been the happiest of my entire life. The happiest of my family’s as well. They didn’t like that we were going to live in Lavender Shores; they knew its history and what it stood for. They didn’t approve of me taking her last name, and they would never understand the founding families’ obsession with being a founding family. There were a million things they didn’t like or support about our relationship, but ultimately, they didn’t care, and neither did I. Because I was in love with a woman, and that surpassed everything. It was the will of God, and the thing everyone had been praying and fasting over for so very long. Despite our beliefs around premarital sex, when they discovered Erica was pregnant and we were engaged, even that didn’t matter. Not only had their prayers been answered with a wife, but confirmed by procreation. Truly, from the night I met Erica to the night of our engagement party, I had not a single doubt about my transformation.

About the transformation God had worked in my life.

And then, Erica had introduced me to her older brother. And in that instant, I knew the prayers hadn’t been answered. At least not fully. Maybe not even close, considering the desire that rocketed through me as I’d looked into Donovan Carlisle’s eyes. To this day, I’m not sure how I made it through that night. How I laughed when her family made jokes, smiled when I was congratulated again and again and again, how I kissed her and held her through the night. All of it was a blur, and all I felt was devastation. I wasn’t sure if God had betrayed me or if I had betrayed him. But something, somewhere, somehow was broken. Donovan was proof of that.

I scooted across the swing and bent closer, resting my arms on my knees, and put my hand on top of Donovan’s. Just for a moment, long enough for his gaze to lift to mine, but not long enough for it to look suspicious to anyone passing by. “You know, Donovan, for all of our years together and for how well we know each other, there’s so much you don’t know.” I let go of his hand. “Do you remember my parents are preachers?”

He nodded. “Yes, in some megachurch in your hometown in Oregon, right?”

“Yeah.” Maybe if I’d told him this years ago things would have gone differently. Although, I wasn’t sure if differently meant things would’ve built between us sooner, or not at all. I guess it was pointless to wonder. Things happened as they happened. Choices had been made. And I was making different choices now. “I spent over a decade in reparative therapy, you know, the kind that’s supposed to turn you straight.”

Donovan’s brown eyes grew large, the shock and horror easy to see.

“It wasn’t one of those camps where they beat you or starve you or anything like that. It was just therapy. It was something my dad forced me to do, but I wanted it to work just as much as he and Mom.” For a second I thought my emotions were going to get the best of me. I cleared my throat and reined them in. Even so, my voice wavered a little. “When I got engaged to Erica, I truly believed it worked. That I was straight. The night I met you, I realized that wasn’t true. But it was too late. We were engaged. She was already pregnant with Emma. It was too late.”

Donovan let out a long breath and sat back in his chair. We were silent for several minutes. His gaze flicked here and there, settling on me every so often, obviously trying to take in this new information, maybe rewriting things that he’d taken for granted over the last decade. I couldn’t read his thoughts. Couldn’t tell if he was disgusted, if he felt betrayed, if he wanted me to just leave.

When he finally whispered, it was with a shake of his head and a guarded expression. “So, I really wasn’t making up those times over the years where I felt something between us?”

“No. You weren’t making that up at all. Though I was doing everything in my power to keep you from feeling it.”

“You did a pretty good job.” He let out a dark laugh, then straightened, a new thought hitting him. “Wait, does Erica know any of this?”

“Yeah, she does.” I didn’t want to admit the rest. The truth sounded so stupid, so blind and ignorant. “She knew about me before our first kiss.”

He flinched.

“Please don’t hate me.” I hadn’t meant to say that part out loud, but I meant it. No matter what happened, I needed him to know the truth. Even if we’d already experienced everything we would together. I needed Donovan to know me, after all this time I just needed him to truly know me. I felt a tear run down my cheek, and I wiped it away, promising there wouldn’t be another. “I came to Lavender Shores when I’d given up. I’d left reparative therapy, and left the church, and left God. I considered going to San Francisco, but I’d heard of Lavender Shores, and for some reason it sounded less scary. I was going to come here, find a man, and finally give in to any and every gay desire I’d ever had.” I couldn’t hold back another dark laugh. “I ran into Erica within an hour of coming to town. We were both at the bar. She was so gorgeous and flirtatious. You know how Erica is.” I didn’t pause for a reaction. “She asked what I was doing in town, so I told her. It was one of the scariest things I’d ever said in my life, openly admit to someone outside of my parents and therapist that I was gay. Bigger than that, that I was going to do something gay that night for the first time. She asked if I’d ever been with a woman. I told her no, because I hadn’t. She said I should at least try it before I gave it up forever.” I couldn’t meet Donovan’s eyes at this point. This was his sister I was talking about. Instead I looked down at my shoes. Noticed how they scuffed over the lines in the wood planks as I began to rock the swing back and forth again. “So I did. And it worked. I didn’t even think I could sleep with a woman. But I did. And it wasn’t hard to do. I fell in love with her then and there.” I looked up quickly. “I really did, Donovan. I need you to know that. I truly did love Erica. Even after I met you, I still loved her. At least did my best to.”

I might have wiped a tear from my eye and refused to let any more fall, but Donovan’s cheeks were streaked with them. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m so very, very sorry.”

I nodded. I wondered what he was sorry for. That I had been in reparative therapy? That I’d longed for him for so many years? That he’d allowed himself to be sexual with me? I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

“Oh shit.” Donovan’s expression shifted and guilt slashed over his features. And I could hear the apology in his tone. “I told Lamont what happened at the masquerade. I was freaking out and I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. But he won’t tell anyone. You know Lamont. And… my mom knows.”

I couldn’t control my reaction to that. “You talked to your mom about it?”

“No, not in so many words, at least not explicitly. But she figured it out last night when she saw the look between us.” He paused, then rushed ahead again. “She won’t say anything either.”

A spike of panic ripped through me at the realization that other people knew. Other people besides my parents, my old therapist, and Erica. Strangely, it subsided into a semblance of relief. Even if Lamont or Donovan’s mom didn’t tell anyone, somehow it eased the strain a touch knowing that two more people shared the secret. “It’s okay. You needed to talk to someone.”

“Who are you talking to?”

The care in his voice was so evident, and so very Donovan. “You, I’m talking to you.”

Donovan wiped his eyes and sighed. “I don’t know if I’m the right one for you to talk to, Spencer. Obviously I can’t stay objective.”

This time I grabbed his hand and didn’t let go. “Do you think I want you to be objective? You think I’m talking to you as a therapist? I don’t want you to counsel me. I want you to want me.”

There was a flash of heat, desire, behind his eyes, but it vanished. I couldn’t tell whether he walled it off or whether disgust over what he’d learned took it away. “Spencer, this is new. To you. To both of us. Maybe we should go slow, even though I don’t want to.”

“I’m not a kid, Donovan. I’m thirty-nine, a damn good lawyer, a father of two, and I know what I want. I’ve known what I’ve wanted for a long, long time. Just because I didn’t allow myself to have it or act on it doesn’t mean I wasn’t certain of it.”

“I’m glad of that. I really am, Spencer. I’m glad you’ve come to terms with being gay, or that you want to be with men.”

“That isn’t what I meant. And I think you know it. I’m not saying I want to be with other men. I’m saying I want to be with you. I want you, Donovan Carlisle. I have from the moment I met you. And everything I’ve seen from you since has only made me want you more. If there’s ever been anything I’ve been sure of in my life, it’s the love I have for you and the love I have for my children. Everything else is up for grabs, but those two things I’m certain of.”

He jerked a little, and I suddenly realized that I’d kind of told him I loved him. Part of me didn’t care. I did love Donovan. He was the most decent man I’d ever met in my life. But I glazed over that.

“I want you, Donovan. My only question is, do you want me?”

He let out a loud exhale of air mixed with a sardonic laugh. “Hell, yes I want you. Obviously. I want you.” He leaned forward, like he was going to reach for me, take me right then and there, but he froze in place. After a second, he sat back. “Can we slow down? Just for a bit? Make sure you really want to make this leap? After all the years in reparative therapy, after the divorce, after….”

Donovan’s words trailed off. He didn’t need to finish the thought, though. It was obvious. And I couldn’t blame him. I had to look like a mess to him. My past, all the drama after the affair. I probably seemed like a poster child for a midlife crisis. I couldn’t blame him for needing to protect himself. Hell, knowing Donovan, he probably thought he was protecting me as well.

Part of me wanted to push the issue. To beg or lay out my case before him. Like I would before a jury. But I didn’t want to win Donovan through logic or my ability to convince.

“I do want you, Donovan. But I don’t blame you for being hesitant.” I stood. If I gave myself any more time, I’d lose my resolve. I’d pressure him. Or I’d tempt him into getting naked again. He deserved better. “I have no doubt that I want you. And not just for some fun in the shower. Let me know if you have more questions or if you need to talk to figure things out.” I started to say more. Tell him that I knew he wanted me. That I’d felt it for years as well. That I knew how this would end up. I stuffed the inclination, but repeated myself, just to make sure I was perfectly, perfectly clear. “I want you. You know how to get a hold of me.”

I felt his gaze follow me as I walked across the porch and down his walk. He didn’t call out. I didn’t turn back and run to him in one of those slow-motion crashing-together scenes from the movies. Instead, I got in my car, drove home, and swore to myself that I was going to wait. I’d waited this long. If he needed more time to be sure, I’d give him that.