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“They all knew, didn’t they? About you and Kevin.”

He nodded, and then to my surprise, he peered at the Adirondack chairs.

I took one glance at them. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, the state they’re in. If you want to sit, then sit on the porch. Except if that breaks, you’re going to end up with splinters in your ass,” I warned him.

He chuckled. “I think you’re right about the chairs. I’ll take my chances on the porch.” He sat on the top step, his elbows resting on his knees. “And if the worst happens, then I’ll just have to find someone to pull the splinters out, won’t I?”

I had the feeling he was talking about me.

I joined him on the porch. “What was he like? Not that you have to tell me. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay, really. If I’m honest, he was an awful lot like you.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “When we first got together, I was thirty-two, and he was twenty-eight.”

“Then hewaslike me,” I declared. Robert gave me an inquiring glance, and I grinned. “He had a thing for older guys too. Not that you were much older than him.” I cocked my head. “You know I’m gay, don’t you?”

“I do now. A little bird might have showed me some… photos on his phone.”

It took me a moment to realize he could only be talking about Walt or Matt. “You saw my profile pics? On Scruff?”

“Uh-huh. The first moment I got to myself, you wanna know what I did?” His eyes gleamed. “I registered so I could see more.”

“More guys?”

He shook his head. “More of you.”

A pleasurable tingle surged through me. “Did you like what you saw?”

There was that grin again. “Do you have to ask? Of course I did. But I want more.”

I arched my eyebrows. “More pics?” Hell, I had a ton of them on my phone.

“No—I mean, yes, but… what I’d really like is toknowmore.”

“About me?”

He nodded.

I smiled. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.” Maybe it was time to lay my cards on the table. “So then if I turn up on your doorstep one evening—”

“Are you likely to do that?” His breathing quickened, and I couldn’t tell if that was due to anticipation or anxiety.

“I think that’s a given, don’t you?” I saw little point in being coy.

He swallowed. “Good to know.”

I shifted a little closer to him, and the wooden deck creaked. “You want to know more about me so that if you invite me in—”

“WhenI invite you in,” he corrected, his cheeks flushed.

That tingle was back with a vengeance.

“Okay—whenyou invite me in—and just so we’re clear about this, I won’t be there for coffee, will I?”

He raised his chin and met my gaze head on. “No, you won’t. If that’s okay with you.”