Chance glanced around the lobby. It was empty; the theatergoers were settled into their seats watching a desperate George Bailey consider jumping into the freezing waters of the river below. Chance had seen the movie at least twenty times over the years. If he hadn’t had another more pressing matter to attend to, he would’ve slipped past the heavy velvet curtains and watched along with the audience, but John had disappeared upstairs.

In John’s office, Chance carefully placed the sleeping kitten on the desk chair. It was still tucked in the T-shirt John had provided and hardly stirred when he set it down. Shutting the door tightly behind himself—a missing kitten would not do—he crossed the lobby to open the door to the stairs. Reed grinned at him from where he was straightening up the concession stand, giving him the thumbs-up. At least one person was in his corner. And his mother, of course.

Quietly, Chance climbed the narrow, dark stairs that ended at an even more narrow doorway. The door was shut, but Chance wouldn’t let that stop him. Noiselessly he opened the door and entered. John didn’t hear him; he was leaning forward, concentrating on the action on screen. Leaning back against the door, Chance watched John watch the movie.

Edmund was going to laugh his arse off. When he’d dropped Chance at Gatwick, his parting words had been, “Let me know when I need to pack your flat.” Chance had shaken his head. Edmund was going to have the last word after all; there was no way Chance was letting John go. Apart from Edmund, Chance had nothing in England calling him back. After his mum’s death, he’d quit his job as a financial analyst to focus on settling the estate. He’d hated that job anyway and had no reason to go back to it now.

Perhaps Chance was more in a position of strength at the moment because he had the force of his parents’ love behind him propelling him forward (and the money to help the theater, if it came to that, but he was certain John would run for the hills if he mentioned money right now)—but his parents’ story was just a blueprint. Chance was the one who needed to fill in the blanks, to get John to understand that he was for real, that the fact that they’d only just met was mere semantics: that their future was together.

John was still facing away from the door, watching the film from a small opening set in the middle of the wall. Unaware of Chance’s presence, John had relaxed, and it was much easier to see the slump of his shoulders and the air of anger and defeat that hung over him.

Chance wanted to make all that go away. He’d come to Skagit to honor his mother’s last wish, thinking he would be heading home within a few days, but the minute he’d laid eyes on John he’d known he wasn’t going home because he was already there.

Home wasn’t his boring flat on the outskirts of London; that was merely a place he’d lived for a while. Home was here, in Skagit. Home was John. It didn’t feel like love at first sight, it felt like the most important puzzle piece finally falling into place—the one that means all the others will soon follow.

“What are you doing up here?” John’s hiss cut through his thoughts.

“I wondered where you were,” Chance replied quietly.

“Well, now you know. Go back downstairs and—where’s the kitten?”

Chance kept his smile to himself but privately found it revealing that John was worried about the tiny fleabag. “Asleep in your office. He or she is fine.”

John scowled at him, but Chance made no move to leave the confined space. He found himself enjoying searching for a way to sneak through the defenses John had erected around himself. Chance motioned to the action on screen, where George Bailey was racing around his hometown trying to find evidence of his existence.

“Why did you buy the theater?”

“What?” John squinted at him.

“Why a movie theater?”

“Oh.” John looked away from him, tapping on the arm of his chair. The silence grew long, but Chance could wait. Silence didn’t scare him.

John contemplated him, now unconsciously picking at a thread or something on his jeans. Finally he answered, speaking quietly.

“I’ve always loved the movies. They’re a two- or three-hour respite from everyday life. Even horror movies and sad movies can take a person away from their problems. I studied film for a while in college but instead got a business degree because it was more practical . . . but I hated it with a passion. When this building came up for sale, I knew I would do anything in my power to buy it and preserve it.” He hunched further into himself before continuing, “My folks were killed in a car accident about a year before I bought it. I used the settlement and my savings to buy and restore it. I don’t have anything against big-box corporate movie theaters, but here I get, got, to run the show. Like, have a showing on Christmas Eve if I want, or not.”

The small room was warming up with the both of them inside it and the projector running. John’s forehead glistened, and Chance wanted to run his hand across it, to soothe him. When he’d impulsively kissed John earlier, the heat between them had been like nothing he’d felt before. It was a good thing Reed had interrupted them.

John was protecting a bruised heart and ego. Moving quickly would be a bad idea, but Chance’s heart wasn’t moving slowly. It was demanding now. Something much like electric shock had jarred Chance when he’d seen John for the first time. His body, soul maybe, had recognized John—knew him—and Chance wasn’t going to argue with it. He’d spent too many years on this earth to argue with the feeling he was experiencing. Coming home was the only term he had for it.

John needed to trust him, to believe like Chance did, but peeling back the layers of hurt and betrayal was not going to be easy. The memory of the impulsive kiss they’d shared only made it more difficult, because he wanted more. But, he grinned to himself, it was also motivating. He reminded himself it had only been a few hours since he’d arrived in Skagit.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

John looked at him now, his pale gray-blue eyes catching what little light there was in the room. Chance saw sorrow lingering there as well.

“Thanks. Of course, I’m about to lose it all again.” John turned away to stare back out at the screen, but Chance didn’t think he was actually watching.

“So you’re just going to quit? Give up your dream?”

“Unless I can catch up on my payments—which I can’t—yes, because you can’t get blood from a stone. I don’t know what world you come from, but in mine money doesn’t grow on trees, and when you make bad choices you pay for them eventually. That’s just the way it is.” He looked back toward the screen. “If I had time, I suppose, but . . .” He shrugged.

Chance stepped closer to him. He wanted, badly, to wrap John in his arms and hold him, tell him he was here now, they would get through this together. “You learned nothing in business school? This gorgeous cinema rebuilt itself? Customers came simply because the cinema existed, demanding to be sold tickets and let inside? You’ve managed for ten years, right?” John nodded, not really listening. “It’s bad luck then, not bad choices.” He wanted to add that that was about to change—had already, in fact—but restrained himself again.

“Does it really matter at this point? Do you mind? I’m watching the movie.”

Chance needed to pick his timing with care. The time was not now. He nodded, but as he turned to leave he couldn’t help reaching out, lightly dragging his index finger across John’s cheek, the stubble prickly and soft at the same time. It was nothing—and everything. A promise. He didn’t imagine the nearly inaudible gasp or the way John pressed, ever so slightly, toward him.

Back down in the lobby, Chance checked on the kitten. It opened an eye for a moment but otherwise ignored him, so he left it sleeping. Then he hunted down Reed.

He found the young man in the auditorium, tucked into the very last row next to the curtains. Reed looked over when Chance came in and followed when Chance motioned for him.

There were several plush benches in the lobby for patrons to sit on while waiting for the movie to start. Chance sat, motioning for Reed to sit next to him. From there, Chance would be able to keep an eye on the door to the booth.

Reed looked at him, eyes wide with curiosity.

“I need some insider information, and I don’t have a lot of time and am a stranger to Skagit. What do you know about John’s ex?”

“Rico Snob-o?” Reed let out a snort. “What a jerk-off. He thought he was so much better than John—or anyone, really. He constantly talked about LA and Hollywood and dropped names like he was somebody. He wasn’t. One time I was here getting ready to open, and John was late. Rico came in, supposedly looking for John, but he had to have known John wasn’t here. He hit on me. It was so gross. He tried to cover it up when John came through the door, but I never let him be alone with me again. I couldn’t believe John put up with him. I was glad when they split up.”

Chance digested this, sitting in silence for a moment. He didn’t want to betray what John had told him about the business, but the man wasn’t going to ask for help.

“Thanks for the information.” He tapped his thigh, thinking. “Okay, here’s the rub: The cinema is in real trouble, and we need to help John save it. Is there anyone in the audience tonight who knows Skagit well?”

Reed thought for a moment before answering, “I think one of the people from the senior center used to be mayor?”

“That’s a good start, then. Point them out to me when the film is over.”

Reed’s eyebrows drew together. “Who are you, exactly? Are you an old friend or something?”

“I fall into the ‘or something’ category.” Quickly he shared how his parents had met, and his mother’s last wish.

“You were sent here on a mission, Blues Brothers–style!”

Chance enjoyed a quick internal debate over whether he was Jake or Elwood before shaking his head. Not the time to get sidetracked. “Do you feel confident opening the theater on your own tomorrow? Can you get the word out like you did tonight?”

“Absolutely!” Reed was so serious it was almost funny.

“Excellent. Where are you staying tonight?”

Reed flushed. “That obvious?”

“I’m a keen observer.”

“Yeah, I came out to my parents earlier tonight. I thought if I told my family over the holiday they’d at least be a little understanding, but I should have known better. I mean, I guess I’m not that surprised at their reaction. I’m not lucky enough to have one of those families that’s accepting of everyone. I’m okay, though. It’s not like I expected them to accept me.”

Chance doubted that, but before he could say anything, Reed added, “I’m staying with my friends who are here tonight. They’re letting me crash on their couch. Maybe my parents will have cooled down before Christmas Day. They didn’t dramatically throw me out, my mom just said maybe it would be better if I wasn’t around for a few days. I don’t even have a boyfriend or anything. I’m just tired of hiding who I am.” Reed hunched into himself. “Really tired.”

Privately, Chance thought that any shite parents who forced their kid out of the only home he’d ever known during a snowstorm, over the holidays, weren’t likely to come to their senses anytime soon. He also sent a thank-you out into the ether that his parents had been the most wonderful, accepting parents a gay boy could have asked for. “Are you at university? Can you work part-time?”

“I’m at the community college. I can totally work.”

Chance considered Reed’s earnest expression. “You can keep up with your studies? I have a feeling John would be upset if working caused you to fall behind. We’re going to need you to repeat what you did tonight: the social media, and also some of the day-to-day cinema business. I don’t even know what that entails. Are you willing to commit to three days a week for now?”

Reed nodded, a big smile breaking across his face. “Absolutely! And I promise not to fall behind.”

“I’ll make sure you get reimbursed. It may come from me for a little while until we get everything in order.” He stuck out a hand, and Reed shook it. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Reed answered.

“You’re okay staying with your friends tonight?”

Reed nodded.

“Noon tomorrow, then?”

Reed agreed and then went back inside the auditorium to watch the end of the movie. Chance returned to John’s office with dual purposes: check on the kitten and plot his romancing of John Hall.