Page 37 of Over and Above (Mount Hope #4)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Magnus

I picked Eric up for our date night to the school carnival at the main house, so we could walk together to the high school. My dogs greeted me from their spot on either side of the recliner where Maren and the baby lounged, watching a recent rom-com.

“You look nice.” Eric gestured at my wool coat and white button-down. I’d taken time to shower and change when I’d returned from The Heist. “Now I feel underdressed.”

“Don’t. You’re getting all the good dad points,” I said as he pulled his coat on over a Mount Hope Football Dad sweatshirt.

“Thanks.”

“What do you think they mean by the carnival having a Valentine’s Day theme?” I asked as we stepped onto the porch. “Kissing booths like in Maren’s movie?”

“Ha.” Chuckling, Eric bumped shoulders with me. “The only one I’m kissing tonight is you.”

I glanced back at the door and window to make sure we were truly alone, and he laughed harder.

“After months of me being the one nervous about people overhearing, it’s kind of funny to watch you jump.”

“Sorry.” I exhaled with each step toward the front yard, trying to will myself to relax. “Diesel said something similar the other day. I’m trying to find my chill, I swear.”

“Is it the publicly dating a guy thing?” Eric paused near one of the scraggly rose bushes.

“No.” I met his gaze so he’d know I wasn’t lying. “It’s more about your kids and hoping they truly are okay with me dating their dad. I didn’t fully realize until the family meeting that I’m not only dating you. I’m courting a whole family, and that’s a little daunting. I worry about saying or doing the wrong thing.”

“I get that.” Eric’s features softened. “John did invite you to come tonight.”

“Which was surprising, but him suggesting it gives me hope.”

“Then hold on to hope.” Eric took my gloved hand, and I let him. We held hands the whole way to the school, and each step closer eased my tension. This was what I’d wanted. Being out with my person, waving to the neighbors, walking together. Normal, everyday life.

At the school, we were greeted outside the gym by a ticket booth where Eric purchased a stack of tickets for the games different classes and clubs were running to raise funds. As he finished the transaction, Wren came loping up, hand out.

“I require funds. The cookie booth is cash only,” Wren announced to Eric before turning to me. They wore a long-sleeve T-shirt with a piece of cake decorated with an ace Pride flag. “Hi, Magnus.”

“Hi. Nice shirt.”

“Valentine’s is a corporate ode to romantic excess.” Wren smiled smugly. “I felt compelled to do my part to push back. That, and Maren got me the shirt.”

“Should we bring back cookies for Maren and Diesel?” Eric asked. “I asked if they wanted to come, but Maren was worried about so many people and germs with the baby.”

“You’ll have to be the ones to take them a treat.” Wren gave a regal sniff. “I’ve been summoned to a sleepover.”

“The Dungeons and Dragons group?” I guessed.

“Yes.” Wren smiled wider, clearly pleased I remembered. “Bix’s mother has promised donuts in the morning for our next campaign.”

“Excellent.” I matched their grin, my chances of getting Eric to come back with me to the carriage house going way up. We hadn’t had much alone time of the adult variety since the baby’s arrival, and some quality sex might be exactly the reset my brain needed.

“John’s working at the football booth.” Wren gestured behind us at the crowded gym. “You have to hit a target to win a prize. It’s hard .”

“I’m sure.” Eric’s tone was sympathetic.

“See you later.” Wren ran off again, likely in search of cookies and more games to spend their tickets on.

The gym was a maze of colorful tables and booths with games, cookies for decorating, sweet treats for buying, and crafts for browsing and making. We headed toward the back corner, where the football boosters had claimed one of the larger booths with a series of elaborate targets to hit with soft foam footballs.

“Think I see John.” Eric threaded his way through the crowd around the booth, but I hung back. I wasn’t alone long before Caleb came up beside me. He had a red football booster shirt on and a wide smile.

“So, I hear congrats are in order.”

I had to think for a second about what notable thing I’d done lately. “The baby? Yes, she’s doing great.”

“Excellent. I need to see more pics, but I meant you and Eric.” Caleb gestured toward the booth where Eric was speaking with John and Tony. “We’re all happy for you.”

“Thank you.” I paused, expecting Caleb to add more, but when he kept on grinning, I frowned. “No don’t break his heart warning?”

“Ha.” He chuckled. “As someone with a small family and friend group who started dating someone with a large family and friend circle, I got far too many of those lectures myself. I was overwhelmed enough as it was.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Caleb gave me a friendly shove on the shoulder. “I’m rooting for you. You’ve both been through so much. You deserve this.”

“Huh.” For a moment, I thought he meant Eric and losing his husband and everything else. But Caleb had said both. I’d spent so much time thinking about Eric’s trauma that I’d forgotten about my own. The fire. Raising Diesel as a single parent. Flo’s death. My chaotic upbringing. Maybe Eric wasn’t the only one who’d earned a second chance. “You’re right. We do. I do.”

Thinking about our relationship as something we’d earned was the perspective change I’d needed. I’d spent the past few weeks feeling like maybe Eric deserved better when Caleb was right: we both deserved each other, this relationship, and this chance.

Before I could thank Caleb further, Sean strode up, holding a rubber duck in the palm of his hand.

“Look what I won.” The duck was wearing a chef’s hat and white coat and was undoubtedly destined for Denver.

“A chef duck?” Caleb cackled. “I love it.”

“Took me more tickets than I care to confess, but I got the job done.” Sean pointed at a nearby booth run by the art club. “They’ve got first responder ducks too.”

I stepped closer, examining the row of ducks in different outfits like lumberjacks, police officers, firefighters, and even one in a blue uniform shirt with a red and white logo patch and a stethoscope around its chubby neck. “Is that one supposed to be a doctor or a paramedic?”

“Which do you need it to be?” Shelby, my old neighbor, had the tone of a born salesperson. I hadn’t seen her in a while, and she was taller with longer hair. “Hey, Magnus! How are the dogs?”

“Full of way too many treats and too little winter exercise, but happy as ever.” Continuing to eye the medic duck, I studied the game itself, which involved plastic cups and Ping-Pong balls.

“Get my friend here some balls.” Eyes sparkling with mischief, Sean plunked down a stack of tickets before nudging me. “Let’s see if you can do it in fewer tries than me. It’s harder than it looks.”

Win one for me. A distant memory made the base of my neck tingle. My brain flashed to that old necklace of Flo’s. I’d been a different person back then. Like Eric had said, we likely wouldn’t have worked out if we’d met as our younger selves. And he was right, but I also knew a deeper yearning for how simple love and relationships had seemed back then.

I glanced over at Sean, who was looking at me expectantly as Shelby produced a cup of Ping-Pong balls for me to try my luck with. Sean was roughly my age with grown kids of his own, yet here he was, excited to win his boyfriend a duck. Perhaps those free and easy feelings weren’t a product of youth but rather a choice. I kept counseling everyone else to have hope and refusing to take the advice myself.

“Looks easy to me,” I shot back at Sean, flexing my fingers. My parents had spent a couple of notable summers following some carnie friends all over the West Coast, and I had no doubt I could beat the game.

However, I played to my audience, deliberately missing the angle on the first throw to get some groans and good-natured ribbing from Caleb and Sean. As I let the next ball fly, I exhaled, letting it take part of my past with it. It was time to let go and fully embrace the present. Caleb was right. I’d earned this.

“You did it.” Three throws later, Shelby presented me with the duck. “Eric’s going to love it.”

Clearly, the entire town knew our business, exactly as John had predicted, but I found it sweet, not stifling. People were rooting for us. I needed to not let them down.

“You made that look too easy.” Caleb hadn’t stopped grinning.

“Could I interest you in a friendly discussion about the upcoming softball season?” Sean cast his gaze on my hand holding the duck as if he were sizing me up for a baseball mitt.

“Don’t buy his pitch .” Jonas walked up, drawing a chorus of groans at the pun.

“How is it you have the worst dad jokes of the whole group?” Caleb shook his head.

“Practice,” Declan said from his place next to Jonas, earning another round of laughter.

“Hey, Jonas! If you feel lucky, there’s a motorcycle duck.” Shelby clearly sensed another sale in the making.

“All the cool kids are doing it.” Sean and I both held up our ducks.

“Fine.” Jonas stepped forward to take a turn at the game. As I watched him throw, Eric came striding over.

“There you are.” He smiled broadly as if he truly missed my presence. “Did my friends kidnap you?”

“I went willingly.” I smiled back, feeling freer than I had in weeks. “Won you a duck.”

“I love it,” Eric said as I placed the duck in his hand. He admired the duck’s little painted-on outfit by running a thumb over the stethoscope. “Thank you.”

“I won a cake for Maren and Diesel.” Wren walked over, holding up a small pink cake.

“Was it a hard game?” I asked as Eric accepted the cake, letting the duck ride on top of the plastic wrap around the plate.

“It was a cakewalk .” Wren delivered the joke perfectly to much laughter from the whole group. I glanced around at all the smiling faces, feeling more included than I had in prior years in Mount Hope. I flashed back to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the baby shower. I was one of them now, and maybe, just maybe, things were indeed meant to work out.

“Dad. You forgot the football sticker you won.” John jogged up with a small, shiny sticker for Eric. He offered me a nod. “Hey, Magnus. Glad you came.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you going to take a throw for the team?” He gestured back at the football booth where the long line had died down.

“He just won a duck on his second try,” Sean volunteered, giving me a gentle shove forward. “Only missed one ball. Dude has an arm.”

“An arm, you say?” Tony left the football booth to join Sean in leading me forward. He wore a red sweatshirt with the word Coach , and from his determined strides, I could see why the kids all listened to him. He had me set up with three small foam footballs in short order. The targets were hearts of varied sizes and heights, the sort of game designed to look easy while posing a challenge in the deceptive angle of the targets.

“What do I win if I hit all three targets?” I asked

“If you miss all three, you get a sticker.” Eric held up his consolation prize.

“Hit all three, and you can win your choice of Valentine’s bears.” Tony indicated a row of large stuffed bears, all wearing mini Mount Hope Football shirts while holding either balloons, a bag of candy, or a box of chocolates.

“Fair enough.” I studied the targets more closely, planning my attack.

“No pressure.” Eric shifted the cake to one hand so he could give me a fast pat on the back. “I’m good with my duck.”

Naturally, his— our —entire friend group had gathered to watch me throw, along with John and Wren. No pressure. But suddenly, I truly wanted to win my guy a prize in front of what felt like the whole damn town. I breathed deeply, returning to the past again, but this time as a source of strength rather than bittersweet memories.

Bang. Bang. Bang. I hit all three targets, a little luck mixed with my skill, and blew on my knuckles to get another laugh from the crowd.

“Well, go pick your valentine.” I motioned Eric forward.

“Think I already have.” He gave me a pointed look, more heat in his gaze than I would have expected given the public place. Our retreat to the carriage house couldn’t come soon enough.

“Did Wren tell you I’m staying at Elliot’s?” John asked, tone deceptively casual as Eric examined the lineup of bears.

“Oh?”

“Your dogs are already in the house.” His voice was serious as he held my gaze. Something passed between us. Not exactly permission. Respect. That was it. An acknowledgment of sorts. He nodded. “You might as well sleep there too.”

“Noted,” I said gruffly, throat rough and itchy. “Thank you.”

“All right, I picked a bear, but you’re carrying it back.” Eric pointed to the gaudiest of the bunch, one that held a rainbow Pride balloon, along with a bag of conversation hearts. “I’ve got the cake to manage.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” I said without thinking.

“Do you now?” Eric tilted his head. I could easily play the moment off with a laugh, but I was tired of playing it safe. Like Diesel had observed, that wasn’t my style.

And so, with a whole circle of onlookers, I nodded, tone solemn. “Yeah, yeah, I do. I love you.”

“Good.” Eric’s cheeks were bright pink, but his smile was wide and easy. “Me too. Let’s go home before we scandalize the townsfolk.”

Home. I’d never felt the word more deeply than in that instant. Home was Mount Hope, Eric, and the house, all three.