To the side, Grandma gasped. Raph slid his hands down around Wyatt’s belly, and squeezed his cock.
Grandma made a terrible choking noise. There was a thump, and Raph claimed all of Wyatt’s mouth, dragged his wrist down Wyatt’s throat, marking him.
“Mine,” Raph whispered against his lips, his tongue slipping soft and warm in Wyatt’s mouth. “Gonna make you all mine.”
“I’m already yours,” Wyatt whispered back.
“Ew. Does that count as doing the sex thing?” Hazel asked.
Raph pulled his hands away from Wyatt, his eyes dark. “Maybe.”
It certainly felt like it.
When Wyatt looked up, he found their mom with her eyes averted, and a smile on her lips. Hazel was skipping up the stairs. “Great-Grandma fell over,” she said. “Think she had a heart attack?”
Wyatt glanced at Raph, then at Mom. So that was what the thump was, when they’d been kissing. No one had thought to stop them.
His fingers laced with Raph’s, Wyatt hurried up the stairs, his pulse racing.
Grandma had collapsed in a heap, her shimmery dress splayed around her. Raph turned her over onto her back. Her eyes had rolled up in her head, and her mouth was open. But her chest was still, and she didn’t move.
“She looks dead,” Hazel said.
“Anyone gonna resuscitate her?” Raph looked around.
Wyatt grimaced. Mom shook her head. Hazel unscrewed the cap of her bottle, and emptied it on Grandma’s face.
“I tried,” she said when they stared at her. “Guess she’s not an actual witch.”
Wyatt fought down a smile. They had to at least try, probably. But looking down at the woman who had hounded him since he was three, at her painted, wrinkled face and her bony, claw-like hands, he couldn’t find in himself the will to revive his past.
“I’ll learn CPR at some point,” Wyatt said. “Are you sure she didn’t just faint? This is... a little too convenient.”
Hazel nodded. “Max died today, too.”
His baby had just witnessed two deaths. Wyatt glanced at Hazel, suddenly worried. Would she have traumatic flashbacks from either death? Would she be okay?
Raph slipped his arm around Wyatt’s waist, pulling him into a hug. “She’ll be fine. She’s a strong one.”
Wyatt huffed. “I didn’t know you could read minds.”
“I can read your eyes. That’s all.” Raph smiled, kissing his lips. “Wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”
Wyatt’s heart swelled with gratitude. Hazel grinned up at them both, her eyes bright. And maybe she would be fine, after all.
He crouched by Grandma, pressing his fingertips to her wrist.
With Max, the paramedics had pronounced him dead at the scene, and Dad had watched over them when they gave their statements.
Grandma had no pulse, and her arm was still warm.
“Dad’s going to throw a fit when he gets here, isn’t he?” Wyatt said weakly. “Two deaths today, and both with us on the scene.”
“You’ll have to tell me about that,” Mom said, stepping closer. “We’ll call the ambulance, and then have Dad over for dinner while he’s here.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Hazel said. “If the police come, you’ll need to sit through all the interviews first.”
“Might not need interviews. Pretty sure that counts as a natural death.” Raph dropped a kiss on Wyatt’s forehead, dragging his nose in Wyatt’s hair. “I’m just happy they’re both gone. Feels like a new beginning.”
“It really does.” Wyatt cracked a smile. He gathered Hazel into his arms, and leaned into Raph’s chest.
With his family safe around him, things were looking up, at last.
33
Wyatt
Two months later
“Are you sure those donuts were absolutely necessary?” Wyatt asked as they walked up to their apartment door, the keys jangling in Raph’s hand. “You know I can make them myself.”
Raph chuckled, reaching behind to squeeze Wyatt’s ass. “‘Course they were necessary. Gets you out of the house. You need exercise.”
“I hope that isn’t you saying I’m fat, Raph,” Wyatt muttered, elbowing him in the gut. Raph grunted, but he hadn’t stopped smiling.
“Have I even said you’re fat? I’ve said I love your belly.” Raph caught him in front of the door, pulling him into a slow, sweet kiss. His palms slipped down to Wyatt’s abdomen, and Wyatt held Raph’s hands, guiding his touch over their baby.
They hadn’t been able to hug properly for months, now, unless Raph was spooning Wyatt from behind. Most nights, they slept that way—Wyatt curled up in bed, and Raph holding his swollen belly from behind.
If there was one thing Wyatt was thankful for, it was that he’d found Raph again, that all of this had worked out.
Since Grandma’s death, Raph had given his 30-day notice at work, and left his job in Highton. Grandma hadn’t had time to change her will—the mansion had gone to their parents, and Raph had inherited a sum of money—enough to pay off his debt. The rest of the cash, he’d put into the shared savings account he’d started with Wyatt.
He’d also moved into Wyatt’s apartment. Wyatt, Hazel, and Penny had driven down to Highton one day to help him pack, and by the following weekend, Raph’s things were unpacked, tucked into Wyatt’s closet, and around the living room.
For the past month, Raph had been helping Wyatt nest for the baby. He’d rearranged the storage room, moved furniture in, built a dresser for the baby’s clothes. They were supposed to paint a mural this weekend. Which was why Wyatt had frowned when Raph coaxed him out to grab some donuts.
He broke the kiss, glancing around them. But there were no neighbors in sight, only the crisp January stillness of the morning, and some birds chirping.
“We’ll move this inside,” Wyatt said, tugging on Raph’s hand.
“Yeah.” And Raph smiled that boyish smile again, the one that he’d been trying to hide for a week. It was another secret. But Raph looked excited about it, and Wyatt had relaxed, trusting that Raph was hiding something good. He could do with a pleasant surprise.
Raph unlocked the door, nodding for Wyatt to head in first.
The moment he crossed the threshold of their
