By mid-October, Scottie found himself in the middle of several problems. Gray had gone off with Wyatt, Hamish, and the rest of the retired military crew to the States. A hurricane had hit the Florida coast, leaving one of their friends cut off and in desperate need of help.

It coincided perfectly with Ruck being closed for a week after one of the sous chefs had set the kitchen on fire. They’d barely managed to get it out before the damage claimed the entire restaurant. It would be back up and running in a few weeks, enough time for Gray to fly off to America.

Not that I miss him.

Scottie would’ve done the same thing for a friend.

Probably.

The biggest issue in his life remained his father, who had somehow managed to get a bottle of scotch into his room. He’d gotten drunk on it, making a mess of the place and a nuisance of himself. Even on his deathbed, his old man could cause trouble for him.

Silus had, of course, inserted himself into the situation. Scottie worked hard to keep his younger brother out of the dramatics. He became grateful to Zeb for providing a suitable distraction.

Who knew Zippie could be so useful?

When his father wouldn’t settle down, Scottie had to find yet another medical facility that would take him. He was about ready to wash his hands of it. How much more time, money, and emotion do I have to waste on the bastard?

Fucking none.

That’s how much.

After strong-arming his father into a new home with new doctors, Scottie quite firmly told him it was his last chance. Silus didn’t understand, but his younger brother at least respected that Scottie had reached his limit.

More than anyone else in their family, Scottie had borne the brunt of his father’s abusive drunken rages. He’d gone above and beyond already. His therapist had worked with him to manage his anger and need to run for a bottle, but the stress wasn’t good for him.

The family angst in many ways kept him from missing Gray. At the same time, it made him miss his Dominant even more. Scottie had grown to depend on him.

Alice: Beard Guy came home. He’s sad.

Scottie: Sad? And?

Alice: Make him better.

What am I supposed to do with that text?

Make him better?

With what?

Sex?

Fuck.

Driving through cold and dreary evening weather, Scottie arrived at Gray’s place to find Wyatt on his way out the door. The Navy SEAL seemed unusually downcast and went by him with barely a nod. It ratcheted up his concern tenfold.

What the hell happened over there?

Scottie made his way inside the cottage to find Gray sitting in front of the fireplace with his head in his hand. He sat on the sofa beside him. “The twins sent me a text because of their worry over ‘beard man.’ Do you want to talk about it?”

“An entire community in the Florida Keys was ravaged by a hurricane. No power. Limited resources. Total devastation.” Gray leaned back into the cushion with a tired sigh that Scottie could feel in his bones. “I’m going for a run.”

“It’s pissing down rain outside.” Scottie watched, slightly bewildered, while Gray changed quickly into his workout gear and tennis shoes, heading out the door without further comment. “Idiot.”

Offering comfort didn’t come naturally to him, Scottie sat by the fire for ten minutes before deciding to get off his arse. He wandered around in the kitchen, hunting for something to cook. One kitchen going up in flames is quite enough. What can I actually manage to fix without burning the house down?

Of his dubious cooking talents, Scottie managed a full English breakfast brilliantly. Despite the lateness, Gray might appreciate a warm meal. He kept the fireplace stoked as well.

Fuck.

I’ve gone all domestic.

“What’s all this?” Gray trudged into the kitchen with rain dripping off him. His eyes drifted from Scottie to the bacon in the pan. “Let me get dried off, kitten. We can eat by the fireplace.”

By the time the food had been plated up, Gray returned wearing a faded USMC T-shirt and sweatpants. He stepped closer to Scottie, pulling him into his arms. He pressed his face against Scottie’s neck and breathed in deeply.

“Eggs’ll get all weird if we don’t eat them now.” Scottie didn’t know if he should ask what happened again or let Gray tell him in his own time. “Coffee or tea?”

Gray chuckled, causing his beard to rub against Scottie’s neck. “Tea. The run cleared my head but chilled me to the bone.”

They ate in comfortable silence. The fire crackled and warmed the room. Scottie sank further into the cushions with his plate balanced on his knee.

“My friend and her community lost everything. We pulled people and bodies out of the wreckage.” Gray set his plate on the coffee table. “I hate being helpless. My entire life has been dedicated to saving others. We barely scratched the surface in The Keys before they forced us to evacuate.”

Over their months together, Scottie had seen the nightmares Gray suffered. The dreams always centred on him failing to save people who in reality he’d rescued. Sometimes when he woke up, he’d talk to Scottie about them.

It had given Scottie a greater appreciation for what Gray, Hamish, Wyatt, and others went through. He’d never really stopped to consider the weight placed on their shoulders. His therapist told him his ability to gain perspective showed how much he’d grown in the past year.

“You tried.” Scottie shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “More than I’d do.”

Gray nudged him with his elbow. “What if it was Silus?”

“I’d move mountains for him.” Scottie didn’t think he’d ever be philanthropic, but for his brother, he’d do anything. “Might help you as well.”

“Kitten.” Gray tilted his head to rest it against the cushion. “I missed you.”

They stayed in front of the fire, only moving to stoke it as necessary. Scottie had never found silence to be comforting. With Gray, he managed to relax into the quiet.

Domesticity might not be that bad after all.