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Liam levered himself off the couch. “I’ll go,” he said. “But I’m taking the chocolate.”
He found Ambrose sitting on the front veranda with John Phillip, both of them glaring out into the rain. Through the shifting dark curtain of the storm, Liam caught occasional glimpses of Marcus’s car in the distance, still face-first in the ditch.
“Where’s Marcus?” he asked curiously, sitting on the love seat beside Ambrose and holding out the chocolate.
“He tried to come up here, but John Phillip growled at him,” Ambrose said. “So he ran back to the car. It was pretty funny.”
John Phillip grinned, his tongue lolling.
“I like your family a lot,” Ambrose said, breaking off a piece of chocolate. “But they are also very big, and very loud, and far more caring than I’m used to. Not in a bad way,” he hastened to add. “Just…I feel like they think I’m a poor lamb or something. They don’t get that not everyone has what they have, and that’s fine.”
“You’re not talking about the vineyard, are you?”
Ambrose laughed softly and shook his head. “No.”
“Okay,” Liam said. “And I know that it’s fine in general if not everyone has a family like mine, and I know that you, specifically, are fine, but also, it would be okay if you wanted to borrow my big, dumb, loud family whenever you wanted.”
“Okay.” Ambrose’s voice wavered a little on the word.
“They don’t pity you, either,” Liam said. “Like, when they’re love-bombing you, that’s not going to be pity.”
“Love-bombing?”
“It’s what cults do,” Liam said. “And multi-level marketing schemes. And also big Irish families—this family in particular. Except in this case, it’s because they genuinely like you.”
Ambrose hummed and sucked on the end of his chocolate. “I mean, I’m pretty great,” he said at last. “I can see why they’d like me, quite apart from the fact I’m dating your sorry arse.”
Liam’s breath caught. “Are we dating, then?” he asked, just to make sure.
Ambrose broke off a square of chocolate and pressed it against Liam’s lips. “I don’t share my chocolate with just anyone, so yes.”
Liam let his lips part, and he snagged the chocolate between his teeth but he barely tasted it, too busy savouring the knowledge that they were on the same page, and that Ambrose wanted him just like he wanted Ambrose. He swallowed, then impulsively leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Ambrose’s lips.
Ambrose made a surprised noise, then he was kissing Liam back. It was soft and sweet, and Liam let himself savour the taste of Ambrose as he learned the shape of his mouth. They kissed slow and lazy, and Liam ended up with one hand curled around the back of Ambrose’s head, fingers carding through the strands of his still-damp hair. When Ambrose finally pulled back, Liam grinned and said, “You’re a good kisser.”
“You too,” Ambrose said. He rested his forehead against Liam’s. “Can we just…stay out here for a bit?”
“Sure,” Liam said. Honestly, he would have agreed to anything Ambrose asked right now, because despite the absolute shitshow today had almost turned into, it had ended up all right. “Besides, if we go back in now Neve will want her chocolate back.”
Ambrose shook his head. “Not happening.” Peeling back the foil from the block, he proceeded to lick the entire surface. “It’s mine now, but you can share.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “Really? Licking it to make it yours?”
Ambrose grinned. “It’s one of my best patented bad boyfriend moves, I’ll have you know. People hate it when you do it at restaurants.”
Liam couldn’t hold back the snort of laughter. “You do not!”
Ambrose raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen me in action. What do you think?”
“I think I may never be game enough to take you out to dinner, just in case you fall into old habits.”
Ambrose laughed softly, and let his head fall against Liam’s shoulder. It was nice, a comforting weight, and Liam wrapped his arm around Ambrose and pulled him closer, and they sat there for a while trading kisses and squares of chocolate as they listened to the rain and the occasional sounds of Marcus swearing. As romantic evenings went, it might have been unconventional, but it was still pretty great.
Eventually though, the front door opened, and Will poked his head out. “Mum’s got dinner ready, boys.”
Liam stood, stretched, and extended a hand to Ambrose, who let himself be pulled out of the love seat, and they trooped inside. Fi fussed over Ambrose still having bare feet and bustled off to find him some dry socks, and as she left Liam mouthed “love-bombing,” at Ambrose, who grinned back at him.
Once Fi had determined that Ambrose wasn’t in imminent danger of losing his toes to frostbite or trench foot, they settled around the table, and she brought out shepherd’s pie and roast veg as well as warm, fresh bread rolls, and Liam’s stomach rumbled at the soothing, familiar smells. It wasn’t that he couldn’t look after himself in Sydney, but there were times when nothing beat his mum’s cooking, and this was one of them.
