Page 27 of Watcher

Foster hugged him. Happiness practically oozed from his pores. “Thanks, Crispy. This is definitely a day I never expected.”

Crisp kept his smile in place despite his mood and the hated nickname. His smile wasn’t entirely fake. He was happy for Foster. Crisp was just sad for himself. The only way he would have this was by walking away and vanishing. That hurt. He really loved Foster. “I didn’t know who would snag you, but I knew someone would. You’re too big of a catch to ignore.”

Foster rolled his eyes. It was good to see how genuine his smile was. Somehow, Atticus made Foster glow. Crisp saw whatappealed to Foster. His new husband was gorgeous and always cocky.

Atticus threw his arm across Crisp’s shoulder. “He is irresistible, isn’t he?” He quickly leaned close to Crisp’s ear when Field tackled-hugged Foster. Atticus lowered his voice for only Crisp’s ears to hear. “I grabbed two slices of cake when no one was looking. It’s on our side for the cutting. No one will notice. I gave them to Fabrice to put with the rest of your nightly haul.” He pulled away and kept going, ensuring no one noticed his sidebar. “I know Foster is so grateful you’re here.”

Foster looked their way at the mention of his name and nodded along.

Atticus squeezed him. “I’m grateful too.”

Crisp’s smile got harder to hold. The itch to run was too much.

Thankfully, Atticus directed Foster’s attention to a different guest before lowering his voice again. “Run.” The whispered command was all Crisp needed to get out of there. He flashed Atticus a grateful smile and slipped away unnoticed. He quickly gathered the food cart Fabrice had hidden for him. The huge rolling contraption was filled with champagne and plated dinners. Wedding cake too, apparently. He checked in every direction, making sure he wasn’t seen as he shut himself away from the world. A soft yet deep chuckle behind him as he shut the door had Crisp’s eyes falling closed. He took his first easy breath.

“You look like you just survived a prison break.”

Crisp turned and held the hazel stare he couldn’t live without. “That’s how it feels. It’s getting rowdy out there.”

“I noticed. You’re back now. It’s okay to breathe.”

As if the words were the permission his body needed, Crisp took another calming breath. Sometimes people found peace in the strangest places. Crisp just hoped his version of paradise didn’t end up getting someone killed.

A night of heated glances and love had Atticus high on life. Logically, Atticus knew the drastic change to his life over the past year should have him feeling some sort of way. He had gone from countless nights at Affinity and working nonstop to peace and overflowing with love. Atticus had never felt so human, and he heard how trite his thoughts were. But Atticus wouldn’t give up a second of being with Foster. He knew if anyone else who had shared his bed over the years saw him now, they would probably laugh. Never had there ever been a more no-strings-attached guy. He wanted to say he didn’t know what happened,but he did. Foster had healed something inside him with calm acceptance of Atticus’ every flaw. Foster hadn’t fallen in love with a fairytale version of Atticus he wanted to create. He had taken a hard look at the real Atticus and loved him anyway. No one had ever done that. Foster had to be insane to marry him. Thank God.

“It was a good day.”

Atticus glanced Foster’s way at the words. The ocean breeze ruffled Foster’s hair as he stared off in the distance. The sand beneath them should have been uncomfortable. Atticus didn’t want to be anywhere else. “It was.”

Foster turned his head and met Atticus’ stare. “Did you ever believe we’d end up here?”

A loud bark of laughter burst from Atticus. “Absolutely not. Me? Married?” He laughed again. “Before I met you, I would’ve rather died.” He sobered. “But then Ididmeet you, and nothing about me has been the same. What were you thinking when you agreed to this?”

Foster laughed. His eyes twinkled with happiness. “I thought, wow. I really can’t get enough of this guy.”

Atticus hadn’t expected a genuine answer. “Same.”

They held each other’s gaze. It felt like a thousand conversations passed between them.

“Any regrets? You gave up a lot to live here with me?”

Atticus watched the crashing waves for a second and took the question seriously. He didn’t need to think about it. Atticus didn’t have a single fucking regret. He just didn’t know how to express genuine feelings the way other people could. It always took a second longer to process than most people.

“What did I give up?” Atticus went back to holding Foster’s gaze as he waited for an answer.

Foster shrugged. “A house. The ability to stay on top of your company. Basically, everything.”

Atticus shook his head. “You’re my everything. I could have a new house tomorrow. It’d likely only take a couple of months to move my entire headquarters here. All of those things are negotiable, easy fixes. Nothing would ever be right again without you.”

Foster flashed him a sweet smile. “Look at you becoming a poet.”

Atticus’ brow furrowed in his confusion. “How was that poetry?”

Foster chuckled. “Everything that falls from your lips is beautiful.”

Goddamn. He had never stood a chance. The night they had met, Atticus had genuinely thought he could easily fuck Foster andnever look back—the way he did everyone before him. Now look at him. He couldn’t even breathe properly without Foster.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I love how you’re looking at me.”

Atticus knew how he looked: aroused as hell. So much so that he had lost the ability to speak.

Foster blew out a slow breath. “You really should see yourself. I don’t know how you always turn me on with one look, but we should get home.”

“Not gonna make it.”

Hunger that matched his stared back at him for a solid heartbeat. Then they were on their feet, running toward the SUV. They laughed as they tried to fold down the seats as quickly as possible. Damn, they were about to have happiest life. They just had to survive the best night of sex ever first.