Page 12 of Hearts of Fairlake (Men of Fairlake #8)

JULIAN

As the sun began to creep down to the horizon, the street lights flickered to life, casting a lazy glow. It was starting to cool and the low light and cooler temperatures were bringing out the insects. The smell of bug spray filled the air, mingling badly with the smell of food, drink, and cigarette smoke drifting around. The mayor had thought about spraying the city to kill the mosquitos and flies, making it a more enjoyable experience. Still, the small council quickly shot that down because those pesticides also killed other insects.

"They said they weren't going to let me kill all the butterflies and honey bees just because I didn't want to deal with a few bloodsuckers, their words, not mine," the mayor had told Isaiah. He had sounded personally aggrieved and, for some reason, felt the need to air his grievances to Isaiah. That hadn't been the first time it happened, and Isaiah always looked annoyed when he finally escaped the mayor.

"It's because he can't find anyone else to bitch to," Isaiah said with a sigh when we’d been called out to an out-of-control bonfire that night. "Chief Borton won't take his calls most of the time and ignores his texts. And from what Bennett said, Trevor's been doing the same thing, except he keeps telling Fred he has a thousand other things to worry about, and not him bitching about things not going the way he wants."

"Dunno why he has to talk to you," I'd told him as we slid into the truck and let the lights flash to signal we were on the move.

"From what I was told, anyone involved in the festival is being treated as a ready-made sounding board by him," Isaiah had sighed, rolling his eyes. "So, now I'm the lucky bastard who gets to hear all about it because he’s able to find me. We really need to get a better system in place."

"For avoiding him?"

"Yes. The problem is...you."

"Me?"

"Yes. You're too damn big, you stick out, and he knows that where you are, I'm probably not far off."

"You've never complained about me being big before," I said with a smirk.

It made him roll his eyes but got a chuckle out of him too. “The upside is, you're bigger than everyone else. So if you see him coming, let me know, and I’ll disappear. If I have my way, he won't see me again until the festival starts, and I'll only have to worry about that speech and not whether someone threatened him over butterflies."

That turned out to be a simple but effective solution. For the few days following that decision, I'd kept an eye out for the mayor. And sure enough, Isaiah had been right. When the man saw me, he’d make a beeline for me. Of course, because I was looking for him, I could warn Isaiah, who made himself scarce. The result was a disappointed mayor and a much more at-ease Isaiah, who I didn't have to worry about as much .

He was worrying about the speech he’d agreed to do. I was mostly okay with it since he seemed to have made up his mind and wasn't bothered, save for the part where he’d have to stand in front of hundreds of people. Even that didn't seem to bother him much, though it was certainly going to bother me. I had agreed to stand up there with him, albeit silently, but the thought of being in front of that many people made my stomach squirm.

Mostly, it was just worrying that he might regret it later. Not because I thought his family, specifically his father, was going to do anything about it if they found out, and Isaiah was sure his father would find out, if not on the day, then eventually. His father would undoubtedly cut off the money he gave to his son, what he thought of as hush money, while Isaiah called it blackmail since he was supposed to shut up so the world didn't find out the Enders produced a gay son.

The money wasn't important in the grand scheme of things, I knew that. Isaiah had plenty of money saved. The first time I'd ever seen just how much his father sent him on a monthly basis, I was genuinely unable to find fault with Isaiah keeping the deal. Even if we both lost our jobs and couldn't find anything else, we could live off what he had saved for a couple of years at the same comfort level we now maintain. If we really wanted to penny-pinch, we could double that, if not further.

It was more that this was his last real tie to his family. It was a terrible tie, but it was still something. I knew Isaiah swore up and down that it was long past time for him to sever that final tie and that he was glad to do it. Still, I also knew he could be...impulsive, especially when it came to his father, who the mere mention of could invoke an ire in Isaiah that was extremely uncommon. The only people who could inspire that sort of rage in him were my mother and brother, especially the latter .

"You look like you're thinking hard," a voice piped up, intruding upon my worries and bringing me back to reality. It felt as though the volume of the world was cranked back up to maximum, and I blinked in surprise, having forgotten that the crowds on the other side of the street in the park were not just background characters.

I glanced over to see two uniforms and smiled at Kyle and Ian. "You two look like you're enjoying yourselves."

"Not really," Kyle said with a snort. "Everyone's getting to enjoy themselves, and I have to work."

I blinked at Ian. “Are you not working?"

"He," Kyle began, shoving Ian, "has been given the same 'job' Bennett has."

"Uhh...what is it?"

"Standing around. Trevor wants people to know there are cops around in case of trouble and a reminder to behave themselves, but he also made sure to put the best-looking and most personable officers at the festival's core. So this jackass is getting paid to stand around and look pretty."

"Which I do very well, apparently," Ian said with a smirk before getting another hard shove from Kyle.

"So not funny," Kyle snapped. "I'm ready for this shit to be done with."

I peered at Kyle curiously, wondering what had him in such a foul mood. In some ways, he reminded me a lot of Isaiah. Both were friendly, upbeat people who didn't hesitate when interacting with the public. Yet under that bubbly exterior was a short fuse and a hot temper that could flare at a moment's notice, taking anyone who didn't know them off guard. Neither was unreasonable, though usually whatever set them off was a valid reason. It was just that their temper would flare up, show itself spectacularly and noticeably, before receding almost as quickly as it had come.

"Are you...okay?" I asked Kyle finally .

"I'm fine," Kyle said with a scowl aimed at the crowd.

"He's a little cranky because he's been dealing with drunken idiots who keep getting hurt," Ian said, bumping Kyle's shoulder lightly with his own.

"And puking. Don't forget the puking."

"Right, and puking...on his shoes."

"Two pairs!" Kyle exclaimed indignantly. "They’ve ruined two pairs of shoes. I should wear little booties and call it a day. Burn these clothes when this shit is over with."

Ian winked at me. “The first aid tent has been a hot spot."

"Isn't there a drink limit?" I wondered.

"Well, you see, that would make sense. Crowds of people, a hot day, a whole celebration, you'd think a drink limit would be put in place," Kyle said with a frown. "But our illustrious mayor passed off that suggestion when I made it and told me that people want to have a good time."

"I feel obligated to point out that when you made the 'suggestion,' you were chewing him out," Ian said, looking amused despite how much it seemed to be increasing Kyle's annoyance. "And I believe you told him you would rather vote in a rabid squirrel as mayor than him so long as you could draw breath. Ah, yeah, those were your exact words. There was more."

"I...may or may not have been a little fired up," Kyle said, looking embarrassed. "But I'm sorry, what was my reaction supposed to be? He comes into the first aid tent, talking about how it's been a wonderful day and how everyone's having a great time. Meanwhile, I'm putting on another pair of shoes and trying to make sure I don't smell like puke, all while we have one person freaking out because whatever their friend gave them is giving a bad trip, another person is puking in a bucket, and the first aid tent smells like death and booze. He sees all of that and has the audacity to ask how things are going with my day. "

"I can...see how that would be frustrating," I said slowly, unsure what to say. Generally, whenever Isaiah had one of his bouts of attitude and temper, it was better to just let him get everything out; it was the fastest way for him to lose steam. Usually, a little nudge from me, and he would get his full rant out and calm down quickly, but I wasn't sure if that was how Kyle worked. However, from the looks of it, Ian wasn't too concerned about calming him down.

"Anyway, can I use the bathroom in the firehouse?" Kyle asked with a huff. "If I have to stand in a porta potty after the day I've been having, I might just commit arson...or terrorism. I'd decide while in the porta potty."

"Terrorism?" I wondered. "Isn't that for...political purposes?"

"Something like that, but considering this is all due to a politician's choices, it probably still counts."

"Oh."

"So...bathroom?"

"Sure. Only one in there right now is Isaiah, though. Practicing his speech...or maybe just thinking. Wanted to get away from the crowd for a while."

"Can't say I blame him," Kyle said with a snort as he headed into the firehouse.

I waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Ian to ask quietly. “Is he okay?"

"He's cranky, understandably so," Ian said with a shrug. "He'll bitch and moan, he'll throw his ass around, and then he'll calm down."

"Oh. You just...don't seem bothered."

"I've known him for way too long to let it get to me."

"You keep poking him."

"A part of him knows he's being more than a little dramatic, so he's letting me get away with antagonizing him. I just have to make sure not to push him too hard, or he really will turn around and get pissed at me. This way, he can have his bitch fit, and I can add a little humor so I don't get caught up in his mood."

"Oh. I stay quiet whenever Isaiah is upset about something I can't do anything about."

Ian smiled. “Which works for the two of you. Staying quiet isn't really our thing, whichhas been a problem for us before, but it works most of the time."

"Oh."

"Plus, I have bad days too, and with the day he's having, he’s remarkably calm," Ian explained with a soft laugh. "I think he got most of it out on the mayor."

"Okay...how did he take that?"

"The mayor?"

"Yes."

"Personally, I think the guy is flying so high from how well everything's gone today that it's a surprise he even registered that Kyle was flipping out on him," Ian said with a shrug. "But he handled it pretty well. Kyle has worked in Fairlake for a long time, and people are used to seeing him...and dealing with him. You'd be pretty hard-pressed to find someone who's been living here for a while who knows that he's the EMT you want to show up when you're in trouble and the one you don't want to get on the bad side of too."

I smiled a little at that. “He is good at what he does, but I don't think I’d want to make him mad either."

"That's a good call, but I wouldn't worry about it too much. He only loses it on people who have it coming...and me. You're one of the safe ones in town."

"Oh."

Ian gave me another smile. “That's a good thing, for the record. It means he considers you to be the kind of person he definitely shouldn't yell at or give too much shit to. That might be partly because you're just a nice guy, but your husband has a big part in that.

"He does?" I asked in surprise, wondering what Isaiah would have to do with anything. The times I'd seen the two of them interact, they’d been friendly, and I'd never detected any attitude.

Ian grinned. “He knows anyone who tries to start something with you is picking a fight with Isaiah, and Isaiah is going to come at them three times as hard as they came after you."

"Oh...right, that makes sense," I said and grimaced. "Sorry, he can be...protective."

"There's nothing wrong with being protective or being the one someone is protective of," Ian said. I can be a little protective, too, but you try to be protective over people like my daughter or my husband."

"They don't seem the type who’d let that happen."

"And you'd be correct. It's better just to let them do their thing and trail behind them to ensure they don't make too much mess. I knew what I was getting into when I got with Kyle and what kind of daughter I was raising. At this point, it's better to let them do what they will do...better for my nerves anyway."

"You don't...worry about them?"

"I worry about Ayla all the time. Kyle? Not so much. He's been alive long enough to know how to deal with things, Ayla is about to start her life as an adult, and I'm scared shitless if I'm being honest," he said, running a hand through his dark hair nervously. "But I also know Kyle and I have done our best to prepare her, and we'll always be here if she needs help. Now, whether or not she'll accept the help instead of us needing to hunt her down and make her accept it, that's something else entirely."

It was a little strange to hear someone talk about their kid with such open affection and concern while still respecting who they were. Isaiah had helped, along with our friends, to drive home that the way I’d grown up wasn't...healthy. No child should grow up being terrified of their father's judgment to the point that they lock parts of themselves up. Parts that, when locked up, could keep them from the happiness I’d almost denied myself with Isaiah because the bastard who was supposed to be my father had instead left his voice in my head, fearing him even after he was gone.

A voice that was silent and dead, just like him, thankfully.

And that I should have never let my brother and mother run my life the way they did. My brother was a terrible person who should have been in jail many times over, and my mother only encouraged it by supporting him and ignoring all his flaws. I had been the one who’d taken on more responsibility for the two of them than should have ever been expected of me. My life had been dictated, controlled, and damaged by the people who should have been there for me, who would support me and lift me up when I needed it, not drag me down and chain me so I was convenient for them.

There was a bitterness there, but it wasn't aimed at people like Ian, or Ayla for that matter. It was wonderful that he was there for his daughter and doing everything in his power to ensure she succeeded in the world. And it was great that she would grow up knowing she never had to be alone and that the weight of the world did not rest solely on her shoulders.

"You alright?" Ian asked, cocking his head.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I was thinking. About my parents...and my brother."

"I remember hearing you don't really have anything to do with them. Kind of wish I could do that with my mom."

I smiled a little. "I see my mom sometimes, but...not a lot. She doesn't like Isaiah, and he?— "

"I'm guessing the feeling is mutual."

"Really mutual."

"And you don't see your brother?"

"Isaiah said the next time he sees my brother is when he decides to commit a felony."

"I..." Ian blinked at that one. "Wow, alright. I guess Isaiah doesn't mess around."

"What don't I mess around about?" I heard Isaiah ask, and I smiled at his voice. "And why do I have your husband rummaging through our collection of snacks?"

Ian sighed. “That would be because he's had a not-so-great time working out of the first aid tent and probably doesn't want to go back unless he absolutely has to."

"And that involves pillaging snacks?"

"He's hungry, and getting food would mean going out in the crowd when, right now, he wants to yell at people."

"Ah...now, what don't I mess around about?"

"His family, especially his brother," Ian said, nodding toward me.

The shadow that passed over Isaiah's face was dark, but the flash of anger in his eyes was bright and hot. "Right. Tell me he's not here. I don't want to add that dickhead to the day. Or maybe I should wish he was here. Maybe it would keep me from having to do the speech if I got arrested for attempted murder."

"He's not here," I told him quickly. "Don't worry."

"The only person who should be worrying is him," Isaiah said with a scowl. "And I guess your mom too, but she probably has him staying away so her precious baby boy doesn't get hurt by mean old me."

I approached him and put my hand on his back, rubbing gently. "The speech?"

He made a face before sighing, and his shoulders slumped. "Yeah. It's been bugging me. I can't seem to get the wording right, and I'm supposed to be doing it soon. I'm going in circles and driving myself crazy."

"Do you have to prepare one?"

"I already told Fred I’d do the speech. It would probably ruin his entire day if I backed out now."

"Oh God, please ruin his day," I heard Kyle say from the bay, and he appeared with a bag of Takis.

"Those are mine!" Isaiah protested. "How, with all of the snacks back there, did you find the ones that are mine?"

"I guess you just have great taste in snacks," Kyle said, winking at Isaiah as though it weren't already obvious that his mood had shifted for the better. "Maybe you should fix that. Now, how are we ruining the mayor's day? Because he's on my shit list."

"We're not ruining his day," Isaiah said, annoyed at having lost his snack.

"Aww," Kyle said, sounding genuinely upset.

I leaned in closer. “I hid another bag in the break room and a bag of gummy bears. Just in case you didn't have any one day."

"Let it never be said that you don't know the precise thing to make the world better," Isaiah beamed, reaching up to squeeze my hand.

"Wait, there's gummy bears?" Kyle asked, eyes widening in interest.

"They're hidden," I told him. "Very well. And I'm not telling you where they are."

"Aww," Kyle said with a sigh. "Did you know there was a time when they had a warning on the labels of these things? Because people were eating so many of them, they upset their stomachs badly."

"Some of them still do," Isaiah said.

"Well, hopefully, you're smarter than a lot of people. I mean, seriously, this stuff tastes like pure sour heat. What did they expect it to do, soothe their stomach?"

"You know, for someone with such a dim view of the average person, you certainly chose the wrong career because you work with the public," Isaiah pointed out.

"Are you kidding? Working with the public is what made me this way," Kyle said with a snort.

"And you're naturally like that," Ian pointed out, laughing when Kyle shot him a dirty look. "You know I wouldn't have you any other way."

"The ice you tread is thin, but you are remarkably adept at avoiding the weakest spots," Kyle said, watching Ian carefully. "That pretty mouth of yours isn't going to save you from itself, just so you know."

"And when that day comes, I will accept the consequences with all the gravitas it rightly deserves," Ian told him with a snort. "But until that day, I will continue to play with fire."

"Quit mixing metaphors," Kyle grumbled. "I just found out we're not going to ruin Fred's day, so I'm back to being grumpy."

"Aw, and it was so short-lived too."

"Ian."

"I was saying it would ruin Fred's day if I went and got arrested because then I couldn't do the speech he wants me to do so badly," Isaiah explained, pulling out his phone and frowning. "In...twenty minutes. Shit, that explains why things have been thinning out around here."

"Why would you get arrested?" Kyle wondered, popping another Taki into his mouth.

"Because he hates my brother and threatens violence at the mention of him," I said, now smiling since I could see Isaiah wasn't truly upset. He was stressed and worried about the speech, but that was manageable and easy to deal with, for him anyway. If I were the one giving a speech, I’d probably be up in Canada, changing my name and starting anew.

"Oh," Kyle said, looking between us. "How do you feel about beating old women?"

"Kyle," Ian said with a sigh.

"It's a perfectly innocent question with no ulterior motive whatsoever," Kyle said, eyes going wide in what I thought was supposed to be innocence. It wasn't a convincing innocence if that was the case, but he seemed to be trying for it all the same.

"Just give it a few years, she's probably going to break her hip, and then I'll have every reason to put her in a home where someone can watch over her all hours of the day," Ian said with a shake of his head. "Stop trying to make it happen sooner by outsourcing a beat down."

"You only say that because you know she wouldn't die. Neither God nor the devil wants her. I sure as shit don't...and don't you dare think about moving her in with us. Like hell am I being her caregiver."

"I'm pretty sure she’d drink bleach before she let you be her caregiver."

"I'll get her a stein to drink out of."

I frowned. “Do any of us have a normal and healthy relationship with their family?"

Kyle perked up. “Oh, I do! I don't know about normal , but it's healthy. My dad loves me, and I love him. He gets on my nerves, and I had some bones to pick about how things went when I was a kid, but nope, pretty healthy."

"And I'd like to think we'll have a normal and healthy relationship with Ayla as the years go on," Ian added. "I'm not really in the know with everyone else in our group, though."

"Bennett had a good one with his parents until they died, and Adam's parents essentially adopted him. And Adam has a great relationship with his parents," Isaiah said. "Chase doesn't talk about his parents, so I'm going to hazard it’s not great, same for Devin. I heard Ethan has a weird, kinda tense relationship with his parents, but him and Bri get along great. Trevor seemed to have a normal one with his family before they passed. I've heard not-so-great things about Felix and Grant's parents but no details, and Sylas...doesn't talk about his mom unless forced, so again, not gonna guess there's a great relationship there...him and his sister are close, though. Don't know about Felix's husband."

"They showed up for his wedding," I pointed out. "They were the ones always talking and laughing. He seemed to like being around them."

"Oh shit, you're right," Isaiah said. "I guess I forgot about that. I don't know why, they were pretty noisy."

"Probably because you were enjoying the open bar," I teased him softly.

Kyle snorted. “You mean he drank the open bar almost dry."

"You're one to talk," Ian said with a shake of his head. "I had to pour you into the car and practically carried you bridal style into the bedroom. Ayla still has that picture of you somewhere that she swears she's keeping for blackmail purposes."

"I don't think I was that bad," Isaiah said with a laugh at Kyle's outrage.

"I carried you," I told him with a shake of my head. "And you said the next day you would never drink again."

"How long did that last?" Ian asked knowingly.

"The next weekend, Bennett invited us out to the bar. Isaiah...enjoyed himself."

I couldn't complain, even if I wasn't all that fond of alcohol, except in small doses. However, Isaiah could drink like a fish, which both helped and hindered him. His high tolerance meant he could go for quite a long time, but it also meant he could lose track of just how much he'd been drinking until it all caught up with him, which was precisely when he’d end up a little sloppy and need help getting up and down stairs and in and out of vehicles.

Not that I minded. He was one of the most enjoyable drunks I’d ever been around. One might be afraid that his quick temper might surface with alcohol in his system, but I had yet to see it happen. Instead, it brought out the parts of him I adored, his energy and enthusiasm, the warmth of his personality, and the playfulness that was always just beneath the surface. Sure, sometimes that came with cleaning vomit out of the backseat once...or twice, but he wasn't a mean drunk, and in all fairness, he really didn't drink all that much.

"Are we just going to start snitching on me now?" Isaiah asked with a scowl. "Or am I allowed to defend myself?"

"Is there any defense you have?" Kyle wondered. "Because I don't know about you, but I'm pissed right now because I realize I have no defense."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Ian said, pulling out his phone. "But I need to head back. They're pulling everyone into the park's central area as best they can, preparing for the show. Chief Price wants me there to help keep an eye on the crowd."

"Ugh, thanks for the reminder," Isaiah complained.

"You'll do great," Kyle told him. "I meanwhile have to go see what atrocities have been committed by drunk people. I really should have asked for hazard pay or something."

"Pretty sure you can't ask for hazard pay for doing your normal duties," Ian said, wrapping an arm around Kyle's neck and pulling him away. "But I suppose that wouldn't have stopped you trying."

Now they’d walked off, I turned back to Isaiah. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to bail and play sick for the rest of the weekend. "

"No," he said with a sigh. "I haven't even thought of doing that...much. It's like I said, every time I think I have what I want to say, I read it over and decide it sounds ridiculous or not good enough. Now I've got to be ready soon, and it feels like I'm going up there with nothing."

"Well, like I said earlier, maybe don't have a prepared speech."

"Wait, like...don't write it out beforehand?"

"Yes. You're good at talking, and without writing everything down beforehand. Maybe have a few bullet points you want to make sure you talk about while you're up there, and then go from there. I think it would be better if you just spoke from the heart anyway."

"Well, it's not like doing that can be any worse than the crap I wrote down," Isaiah said, patting the pocket where his phone was. "And I'm kind of hoping this is like how it was in school."

"What do you mean?"

"Whenever I had to do some presentation or whatever at school, I'd be nervous as hell leading up to it even though I knew what I was talking about and had done presentations without a problem. It happened every time without fail. Yet the minute I got up in front of everyone to say what I needed to say, all that nervousness would disappear. I'd wonder what I was so freaked out about and then do my presentation."

"Anticipation."

"Hmm, yeah, I guess that's it. The anticipation would get the better of me, not really the nerves. Just hoping that happens with this too because fuck, I'm nervous."

I chuckled, reaching down to pull him close and kiss the top of his head. "Well, I think you're going to do great. And I'm going to be right there with you."

"Speaking of," he said, peering up at me warmly. "I know it's a big deal for me, but it’s an even bigger deal for you, going up there to stand in front of all those people. And I wanted to say that I really appreciate it."

"Well, yeah, of course," I told him as quickly as I could. Speaking still didn't come to me easily, although speaking to Isaiah was much easier than speaking to anyone else. I still didn't talk very quickly, even to people I was comfortable around. The good thing was people like Isaiah and our friends didn't expect me to speak quickly, and weren't bothered if sometimes I didn't say much or took a long time to reply. "You deserve to have someone up there to support you."

"And you," he said, reaching to cup my face, "deserve to be reminded that someone is thankful for your help and what you do. Remember, this isn't a take-take sort of thing."

I smiled, reaching up to lay my hand over his and gently squeeze his fingers. "I know. You've reminded me enough."

"True," he said with a laugh. "Probably more than you'd like sometimes, but...it's a good lesson to remember. So I'll have to keep reminding you."

"I'm okay with that," I told him because even if I did sometimes get a little exasperated that he kept making the same point, I knew it came from a place of concern and, of course, love. He’d seen the damage my family had done to me and knew all too well how deeply those wounds ran and how slowly the scars took to heal. Even when he sounded repetitive and irritating, it was because he had it in his head that I wasn't keeping the lesson in mind and wanted to make sure I would never forget.

I wish it were as easy as promising I’d never make the same mistakes I had in the past, and I could and would mean it completely at the time of saying it. But I knew full well that promises like that were made to be broken, and life had a way of making liars out of the most honest, well-meaning people. The best I could do was promise I’d try to remember and be the person he believed me to be every day. It was hard work, but on days like today, it was remarkably easy to keep in mind.

He smiled. “Alright, we should probably get to the stage. It's getting close to time for me to do this."

I chuckled softly. “I'm surprised the mayor hasn't been blowing up your phone. He's been really interested in the kind of speech you’re gonna make. I think it was driving him crazy that you wouldn't tell him."

"Yeah, well, maybe don't ask me to do a speech then try to peer over it like I'm going to get up there and talk about how I like to have my big, sexy husband rail me or something," Isaiah said, with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't think that's what he was worried about," I said, feeling my face warm. Not because he was being crude, that was just hot. It was the fact that we were in public. Okay, it was away from other people. They were starting to congregate elsewhere, but it was still public. I might have made a lot of progress when it came to being more open and honest about our relationship, but that didn't mean I was ready to talk crudely about our sex life. "He just?—"

"Wants the festival to be perfect, I know," Isaiah said. "But the guy's old enough to know better. Nothing is going to be perfect. Plus, if he wanted someone to give the exact speech he’d make, then he shouldn't have asked me. That's why I've ignored his texts and put my phone on silent earlier."

"Oh," I said, realizing that was why we hadn't heard it ring with the mayor desperately trying to get ahold of him. "Then we should probably go."

"Yeah, the only thing that would get to Fred more than me not showing up on time would be if he ruined his own festival by having a stroke in front of everyone. That could almost be funny, actually. "

"Unless Kyle had to treat him, then he’d blame you for making his day worse by having to save the mayor."

"Mmm, good point. I don't want to risk having Kyle pissed off at me, though he does owe me for stealing my snacks."

"I don't think those two things are equal."

"Those are my snacks!"

I chuckled, reaching to take his hand and instinctively running my finger over the wedding band. It was practical, a band of silver dotted with small, colorful gems that he liked to spin around his finger when he was thinking. Neither of us had wanted something that cost a down payment on a house, especially with the jobs we had, which would inevitably damage them, even if we didn't wear them when we went out on call just to be safe.

It was strange to think how comfortable it was to feel that ring and know I’d first put it on his hand after we’d made our vows. His were eloquent and full of all the life, love, and warmth he was filled with. Mine had been awkward, slow, and carefully read from a card I’d painstakingly worked on, knowing I wouldn't be able to express what he and our marriage meant to me. It was probably just the heat of the moment, but I liked to think maybe I had some effect because Isaiah could barely hold back the tears when I'd finished.

In the end, though, I’d managed to get through it without choking, and the marriage had been sealed...at least symbolically, we'd taken care of the paperwork long before we'd walked into the firehouse for our wedding. The choice of venue had been obvious, but not without its pitfalls. No sooner had we sat down to eat than the alarms signaled someone needed to go out. Thankfully, the chief had thought ahead and allowed the guys on shift to attend the wedding, ready to go just in case. They'd missed the cake being cut, but we'd made sure to have plates ready when they came back.

We'd only invited a handful of people, so it had been a quiet, intimate sort of thing that had carried into the night before we'd finally been given a ride back to his... our house. The honeymoon lasted two weeks, and Isaiah found a cabin in the woods where it was just the two of us. It was isolated enough that we didn't have to worry about random people stopping by, but still close enough to a nearby town that we could stop in for supplies or a quick bite to eat if we were feeling lazy.

All of it had been a perfect example of my life with him up until that point and a good sign of things to come. We weren't without our problems, like every couple, I suppose, but we always managed to find a way through them and remind ourselves that we loved each other. Sometimes, he needed help, like today, and other times it was me. Each day that passed felt more and more like we were partners rather than just boyfriends or husbands, but something that was all those things and more.

"Oh, hell no," Isaiah muttered as we made it to the clearing and found it absolutely jam-packed full of people circling the stage. It was well-lit, and the mayor stood at the center, beaming at the crowd as he spoke. "Damn, c'mon. He's already started."

"And as I can now see," the mayor continued, his voice rising excitedly, "our chosen speaker has decided to grace us with his presence!"

"Grace you with it, maybe," Isaiah shot back loudly. "I like everyone else here."

The joke, though I wasn't so sure it was a joke, was a hit, and laughter rippled through the crowd. If the Mayor took the jab for what I thought it was meant to be, he didn't show it as he shared a chuckle with everyone in the crowd. “Fair enough. Now, if everyone could part ways a little, then…there we are. As I was saying, this town has not only stood the test of time for the past century and a half to survive to this day, it has thrived and grown. And who better to speak on that very topic than the eldest son of one of the original founding families? So, let's give a brief round of applause and our complete attention to...Isaiah Ender!"

I followed closely behind Isaiah, trying to avoid staring at people as we got onto the stage, knowing it was impossible. The clapping was mostly polite, and though I couldn’t see, I was pretty sure the loud hooting was coming from Bennett somewhere in the crowd. That was quickly proven when Isaiah glanced toward the noise and rolled his eyes. "Never mind, I'll add Bennett to the same list as Fred. You're both in the doghouse."

That gathered more laughter, and I could see Isaiah loosening up as Bennett called back, “And you love me, don't lie."

"Fairlake's finest," Isaiah told the crowd. "But in all fairness, that's one of my best friends. He's a bit of a freak and a weirdo, but he's got a damn good heart, and he joined the police force here because he wanted not only to be a member of this community but a part you could look to when you needed help. It's exactly what you want in someone wearing a badge, along with the sense of honor and fair play he subscribes to. If there was anyone who encapsulates what Fairlake was supposed to be and what it's become, then look no further than the blond idiot who's grinning like a Jack O' Lantern as we speak."

He got another good chuckle from people, but they also listened to what he said. I honestly don't know what he’d been so worried about. He knew how to work a crowd with seemingly no effort and seemed to enjoy himself.

"In truth, that's the sort of thing we need to focus on. More than the past, more than where we started," he continued, looking out on the crowd. "We should remember where we came from and how hard others worked to get us to where we are now, but we should never be beholden to those things. We need to keep the spirit alive more than the law. I'm the last of my family in the town they once founded. Not because of death or disease or scandal, but simply because my family decided Fairlake was no longer important to them."

That raised a few eyebrows and caused some murmuring in the crowd. I nervously glanced over to see that the mayor still had a smile on his face, but it looked stiffer thanbefore.

"Yet I came back here because this was the place I remembered loving the most when I was a kid. And I’ve been proven right, and my faith has been put in the right place. This town isn't without its problems, but more important are the good things we've not only maintained but that we as a town have come to value above all else. Family. Community. Honor. Respect. Acceptance, and of course, love."

That last part was said while reaching back and taking hold of my hand to squeeze it. "It's only in a town like this that I could stand up here, holding my husband's hand, and see smiling faces peering back at me so readily. Where not only me but also my friends can live their lives comfortably and openly. A place where we accept newcomers as one of our own, and we take care of our own. My family has abandoned this town, but in its place, we have made our own family, and I love that family with all my heart. So please, celebrate what we've managed to build, and always keep an eye on the horizon, aiming for an even brighter future."

The crowd took up a more enthusiastic applause this time, and I could see several familiar faces were clapping the hardest. Not just our friends but people I saw at the grocery store, the store owner, people from Adam and Chase's shops, and even people I sometimes saw going about my business. While the visitors and tourists were giving polite, if rather nice, applause, the people he had been speaking to and about were really showing their appreciation as they cheered.

Pride swelled in my chest, and I reached out to take hold of Isaiah before he could descend the stairs and get out of the way of the crowd and the cameras I could see. His eyes widened, but he leaned into me as I kissed him. It was brief, mostly chaste, but I felt a fire light up inside me as our lips lingered for a second more and pulled away.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, ignoring the 'get a room!' that set the crowd laughing...and most definitely didn't come from Bennett. "Public speeches do it for you?"

"That was amazing. I'm proud of you," I told him, not just because he rarely heard something like that from someone who mattered to him but because it was the truth.

"You know what they say about flattery," he teased.

"That it'll get you in my bed?"

"Mmm, it would get me there anyway, but you're definitely getting cuddled so hard tonight."

"Well, it was worth kissing you in front of two towns worth of people.”