Page 29 of Walking on Broken Paths

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jesse hadn’t taken The Windblown out in fifteen years.

Hell, until he’d joined Parker on his dad’s yacht, he hadn’t been on the water in fifteen years.

Despite living in a coastal province, he’d kept to land in BC. Some days, simply watching the sunset from English Bay brought him back to The Windblown the day he’d found Mikey on it.

But now that he’d faced that moment of his past, he wanted to be on his family’s sailboat more than he wanted to play hockey next season. It was like, by facing Mikey on The Windblown in the present, Mikey had given him permission to keep living.

The Windblown sailed as smoothly as he remembered. He’d worried, for a moment, that he might’ve forgotten how to sail. But as cliché as it sounded, it was like riding a bike—all muscle memory.

He dropped anchor in Canoe Cove, the red cliffs nearly gutting him with nostalgia. They so quintessentially represented the island, and for a burning-hot second, he was a kid again, sailing on The Windblown with Mikey and his parents.

“Did you say you brought lunch?” Parker asked.

Jesse retrieved it from the mini fridge in the galley, and they sat on the deck, legs hanging off the side of the boat. He kept sneaking glances at Parker out of the corner of his eye as they munched on sandwiches and vegetable sticks.

Parker was beautiful. Under the summer sun, he was perfection. He was lightness. He was the air Jesse breathed.

They hadn’t talked about their future. Not since that evening in Victoria Park. Jesse had asked Parker not to give up on him, and Parker hadn’t. In his own way, he’d proved again and again that Jesse was worth taking a chance on. He’d proved again and again that he was in for the long haul.

Jesse wanted that long haul. That life Mikey had given him permission to live? He wanted to live it with Parker. How he’d gone the last fifteen years without him, he couldn’t say.

Jesse had come to PEI for his brother. For his memorial. And maybe, though he hadn’t acknowledged it, for permission to move on. But he’d found so much more than that.

A newfound appreciation for his hometown and his island.

A closeness with his parents that they hadn’t shared in years.

If not peace over Mikey’s death, then acceptance that he couldn’t have done anything to change it.

Love that didn’t and would never fix all of his broken pieces, but that blunted their edges to a pearly shine.

And Mikey. Sweet, lovable Mikey. He was in every grain of sand, every brush of wind against Jesse’s skin, every cry of the gulls overhead.

He was even on The Windblown , sitting on the deck on Parker’s other side, sketchpad on his thighs and graphite pencil in hand.

Jesse blinked. For a moment, Mikey really was there, real enough to touch and smiling at him with a hint of mischief.

Jesse blinked again and Mikey was gone, replaced with a breeze that somehow smelled like his graphite pencils—woody cedar and resin.

Mikey had been here the entire time, hadn’t he?

Jesse recalled gusts of wind on calm days and drafty houses where there wasn’t an open door or window to be had.

Remembered too, the so-called expert he’d hired to find the draft in his house, who’d shaken his head at Jesse and told him that the house had a solid foundation, and if there was a draft, he couldn’t find it.

For fifteen years, Jesse had been speaking to his brother.

For fifteen years, he hadn’t heard Mikey listening.

But Mikey had been there all along, waiting for Jesse to pay attention.

The wind swept his tears away. Happy tears that didn’t make it past his cheekbones.

“Hey, Mikey,” he whispered.

And the wind answered back.

* * *

The sandwiches were homemade. Parker didn’t know whose kitchen Jesse had used to make them—it definitely hadn’t been his own, considering the state of it—but Parker’s chicken sandwich with cranberry mayo, apple slices, and arugula on sourdough was better than any sandwich Parker had ever ordered at a Montreal deli.

The day was perfect, with sunlight reflecting off the water and other sailboats drifting by, and it was so much cooler out here. Parker should have set sail on a rented boat—or hell, asked to borrow The Windblown —long before now.

If he had, he would’ve realized a long time ago that Dad’s presence wasn’t just on his ship. It was on this one too.

Because it wasn’t about the Willis Dinner Cruises ship at all. It was about being on the water. The boat itself didn’t matter.

That would make things easier when Parker finally decided to sell.

Joel and Matilda had been right—the business made him miserable. And Dad would want him to be happy.

Problem was, selling the boat would make Parker both miserable and happy, and he wasn’t sure what to do about that.

“Did I tell you that the mystery of how the box of haunted dolls arrived on my porch has been solved?” Jesse said, interrupting Parker’s thoughts.

“I didn’t realize it was still a mystery.” Hadn’t they decided the dolls had walked themselves there?

“The box must’ve fallen out of the dumpster. My mom saw it on the driveway when she was driving by and put it on the porch.”

Parker sipped his ginger ale. “Are you sure the dolls didn’t brainwash her into believing that?”

Jesse cocked his head like he was truly thinking about it. “She’s not easily fooled. I think we can take her at face value. Want another sandwich?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

They ate in contented silence, Parker’s left shoulder brushing against Jesse’s right.

Water lapped against the hull, and Parker could feel the heat of a sunburn beginning to redden his nose.

He needed to reapply sunscreen, but he was too satisfied with.

.. well, this very moment in time...

to bother getting up to fetch the bottle.

Nothing existed except the water and the sun and Parker and Jesse. There was no past or future here.

Only the present.

At some point, they’d have to go home. Jesse would have to deal with the disaster that was his house; Parker would have to face the fact that he owed the strategist at the agency a revised direct mail letter, not to mention he needed to carve out a couple of hours to deal with Willis Dinner Cruises stuff.

The book he was writing was an afterthought at this point, but he did have an interview set up with a retired Olympic champion who was eager to tell him her story.

And with Jesse’s departure date now only four weeks away, they’d have to talk about what their relationship would look like with them living on opposite coasts.

Assuming Jesse had changed his mind about this being a summer thing, which Parker thought he had.

All of that was for later, though.

“What are you doing from October to April?”

Or maybe not.

Parker chewed the last of his second sandwich before answering. “Plugging away at my book. Writing bad fundraising copy. Why?”

“Want to do that in Vancouver?”

“I... What?”

Slowly, Jesse said, “Do you want to join me in Vancouver, Parks?”

Parker shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Like, for real? This from the guy who only wanted this summer?”

“I do want this summer. And next summer. And the one after that. And the one after that . And all the months in between.”

“Be still my heart.”

“Shut up and say yes.”

Heart thumping against his ribs, Parker grinned, then bit his lip and looked away.

“Or... say no?” Jesse said quietly.

“It’s just... I’m not ready to sell my dad’s house yet.”

Jesse shrugged. “So don’t. Keep it. It can be our island home base for when we come back next year. You can rent it out as an Airbnb when we’re not there and make some money on the side. I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind managing it while we’re out west.”

The possibilities stretched out, limitless and enticing. Parker leaned against Jesse’s shoulder. “Know of any affordable apartments for rent?”

“Yeah. It’s called my condo.”

Trying valiantly not to grin like he’d just won the Pulitzer he’d dreamed about when he was fifteen, Parker said, “You want me to live with you?”

“Turns out I like doing this thing called life with you,” Jesse rumbled, his voice trailing over Parker’s skin like silk.

“So yes. I want you to move in with me. Live with me. Make a home with me.” He dragged his fingertips over the back of Parker’s hand.

“I love you, Parks. And I don’t want to live another day without you ever again. ”

Well, that did it. Parker’s eyes grew damp as he flipped his hand over and twined his fingers with Jesse’s. “Do you think I’ll like living in Vancouver?”

“I do. And I’m not just saying that because I want you to come with me.”

Parker pictured autumn turning to winter, turning to spring, and weighed two versions in his head.

Shut up in Dad’s house with his writing.

Or making a home with Jesse—cooking together, finding spots for Parker’s things, arguing about whose turn it was to take out the trash, dropping Jesse off at practice in the morning.

Of course, as an NHL player, Jesse kept odd hours. Parker would be doing a lot of waiting for his man to come home.

But it wasn’t like he didn’t have his own projects to fill his time.

Honestly, the answer was a no-brainer.

“I want a first-class seat from Charlottetown to Vancouver.”

Jesse laughed, and the sound was better than a Pulitzer. “That can be arranged. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You let me pay the remainder of your dad’s debts.”

A complicated swell of emotions rose in Parker’s chest, and he squeezed Jesse’s fingers. “Jess?—”

“Parker.” The use of his full name had Parker biting back a protest. Jesse removed his sunglasses and met his gaze, his indigo eyes somehow even bluer under the summer sun. “Please. Let me do this for you and your dad.”

Parker clenched his jaw so he wouldn’t cry.

“I would’ve offered sooner, but I didn’t think you’d accept.”

He shouldn’t accept now. But he wanted to. God , he wanted to. He was so tired of counting every penny. So tired of trying to manage paying his staff with paying overdue bills.

He shouldn’t accept. Dad’s bills were his responsibility. But if Jesse was offering, was there anything other than pride standing in Parker’s way?

“Okay.” He placed a kiss on Jesse’s shoulder. “Thanks, Jess.”

“Good,” Jesse said, sounding satisfied as hell. He kissed the back of Parker’s hand in a move that made Parker’s heart jump. “Should we head back? My parents invited us over for dinner.”

Parker wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat after those sandwiches, but he nodded anyway. “One thing first.”

“What’s tha?—”

Parker grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him before he had a chance to finish his question, pouring every emotion Jesse made him feel into it. Time stood still for a long minute as lips clung and hands roamed. Jesse made a sound deep in his chest that reverberated into Parker’s.

Parker slowed the kiss, then pulled back and rested his forehead against Jesse’s. “I love you too.”

Jesse’s smile was brighter than the sun.

Together, they put what remained of their lunch away and prepared to set sail. When they were ready, Jesse smiled, looked out into the distance, and said, “Hey, Mikey? Blow us home, will you?”

The wind kicked up suddenly.

And blew them home.