Page 32 of Alder Woodacre and the Acorns of Affection (Amaranthine Interludes #3)

Joe liked exploring Kip’s property. The boundaries were neatly fenced and marked …

and no doubt warded. But there was a kind of back gate into the unkempt wilderness beyond his tidy grove, allowing outsiders into its haven.

His property was thick with pheasants and squirrels, almost like a preserve.

“You’re drawing Ephemera.”

He lifted a hand, and a dun nippet landed on his fingertip. “They find me.”

Kip laughed softly. So he’d caught Joe’s little joke. He also stepped closer, his tail twitching three times before he flipped it around Joe’s back.

“So … you like it here?”

“Sure. It’s easy to love this place.” Pushing his fingers into the plush fur of Kip’s tail, he gave a little shrug. “It’s yours.”

To Joe’s surprise, that triggered a low noise, almost like a growl. It wasn’t in the usual range of squirrel noises Kip made.

“Say, Jiro. Do you want to fly for a bit? Nobody will notice if I stay in among the trees.”

He hesitated. “I thought I was supposed to be connecting to your land.”

“Yeah, but … connecting with me is also good.”

It was so simple to say, “Sure.”

Over the years, they’d found a way to comfortably go airborne.

Joe found it embarrassing to be carried, and facing each in an embrace was hard on his heart.

Stepping carefully out of his boots, Joe backed into Kip, placing stockinged feet atop long paws.

He always worried he’d hurt them—that’s why he insisted on getting rid of his work boots—but Kip’s hold on him supported a bunch of his weight.

Both facing the same way, they could share the view.

Kip swerved slowly between the trees of his grove, but then he aimed for the privacy hedge’s many conifers. Needles brushed by, releasing their scent, as he wove along a looping path that was pleasantly disorienting. It was as if they were lost in an endless forest. Together.

Joe was enjoying himself, but he could tell that Kip wasn’t nearly as relaxed.

He tried to sway his bondmate’s mood in soothing ways, but the more he tried, the more keyed up Kip became.

Kip drifted to a stop in a space barely big enough for the two of them. Surrounded on all sides by spruce and fir, they hung in an increasingly expectant silence. “Say, Jiro?” Kip whispered. “Can we …?”

“You want tending?”

“I was thinking more like … a kiss. I can’t get the last one out of my mind.”

It was so simple to say, “Sure. Help me turn?”

Kip helped him navigate a pivot, then pulled him flush. Joe was catching flashes of eagerness and embarrassment. But that wasn’t bad at all. “C’mere, Alder.”

Their lips met.

That low noise happened again, and Joe decided he liked it.

Kip pressed in for a taste, and Joe encouraged him as best he could.

He was hazy with happiness when Kip drew back to whisper, “This grove is so in love with you right now.”

“M’kay. Good.”

“I wish I could get past all of Argent’s nonsense. Wasn’t he supposed to remove our wards before he left?”

“Umm … I think so.”

Kip scowled at the bracelet that had always come between them. On impulse, Joe touched the familiar strand of crystals, and the bracelet came away in his hand.

His bondmate gawked, then burst out, “That sly fox! When did he …?” But he lost steam, and he choked on his next breath.

Because the barriers were gone.

“Oh,” Kip said weakly, his brows doing bewildered things. “Oh, Jiro. How is all this for me?”

Because … the barriers were gone.

Joe guessed there was no hiding anything anymore.

Kip was similarly exposed, and there was so much. Awe and attachment. And a longing that had always been part of him, probably because he’d been lonesome in love. Until now.

Face flaming, Kip started to babble. “I need to say that I know it’s over.

I mean, it never actually started, but …

I wouldn’t hurt Tami for the world, and Ash is so happy.

Maybe I should’ve given up sooner. I thought I let go.

I know I’m not the one he needs.” He ducked down, and lips pressed Joe’s throat.

Over and over, pleading kisses. They were apologies, and they kind of tickled. “I also know that I need you.”

“M’kay. Good.”

“That’s … it?”

“Sure.”

“Just like that?”

Joe wasn’t sure what else needed to be said. After all, the barriers were gone.

Kip sagged against him while still holding them steady. And in that same quiet voice, he said, “Say … Jiro?”

“Yes, Alder?”

He pulled back enough to meet Joe’s gaze, smiled sheepishly, and confessed, “Turns out … you’re so easy to love, too. You good with that?”

“We’re good,” Joe promised, sweeping his thumb across Kip’s reddened cheek. And doing his best to memorize the patterns his freckles made.