Josiah still stood between Mateo’s legs as he took in the sight of his lovers kissing. Josiah eased Tristan’s fingers away from his pulse as Tristan let Mateo lead the kiss. It was Mateo running the show, and that always made Tristan nervous, but then his hand tightened around Josiah. It was as though Josiah gave him something in this moment, too.

Maybe others wouldn’t understand it. Josiah had no doubt they wouldn’t, but he knew he gave Tristan as much as Mateo did as they kissed. Knew the three men all gave each other something they needed.

When Mateo pulled away from Tristan, Tristan spoke. “I seem to remember the two of you planning to get dirty for me in here.”

“We will,” Mateo promised him.

“You have to get dirty with us, though.” Josiah still held Tristan’s hand. He placed his other on Teo’s abdomen.

Another nod from Tristan. “I will.” And then he let go of Josiah’s hand and cupped his face. “You deserve this place. It...” He closed his eyes, let out a breath, and then opened them again. “It’s important for me to be able to do this for you. I need to do this for you.”

Josiah’s heart started going wild the way only these two men could do to him. He knew Tristan felt like he let people down in his life, that he tried to make up for it the only way he could. Helping Josiah get his coffeehouse was another way for him to do that, and Josiah loved him for it. Turning slightly, he kissed Tristan’s hand. “No, you don’t. Having you is enough, but thank you. This means the world to me.”

Tristan stepped back and glanced at the door as though someone walked in, as though someone could see them through the closed blinds. “Mateo is right. We should celebrate.”

The three of them had never had much to celebrate in their lives. Josiah was raised in foster care, Mateo in a gang, and Tristan, though he had a loving mom, had spent time on the streets. His mom had been forced into prostitution and had briefly had a drug problem. Now she was agoraphobic.

Teo had saved Josiah in foster care, where they’d fallen in love. The streets stole Teo from him, which lead Josiah to finding Tristan, and when Teo had come back, they all three discovered each other. Three broken men, three broken pieces, which only worked when they were together.

“Yeah, Jay and I will be bustin’ our asses on this place soon. We should celebrate while we can,” Teo said.

“We can grab some dinner on the way home—”

“No.” Josiah interrupted Tristan’s reply. “I’ll cook.” He loved making meals for his men.

“How did I know you’d say that?” Tristan smirked.

“Because you’re a smart guy. Be smarter and don’t argue with him. I like his cookin’.” Teo winked. “Can we do somethin’ first, though?”

Both Josiah and Tristan paid close attention. It wasn’t often that Teo asked for anything.

“I’ve been puttin’ back a little money. There’s a new camera I want. It’s not digital, and I know I don’t know how to develop, but I’m hopin’ to learn. I—”

“Let’s go get it,” Josiah told him. This was important to Teo. He didn’t do things for himself.

Tristan smiled. “Let’s go.” The three men walked out of what would soon be Josiah’s coffeehouse to get Teo’s camera, and then headed home. Together.

CHAPTER TWO

Tristan

Tristan watched as Josiah stood in front of the stove, checking the rice. Mateo finished rinsing his hands in the nearby sink before he glanced Josiah’s way, shook his head, and then pushed Josiah’s dark-blond hair back. He did that often, and it always made Josiah smile.

“Tell me about it,” he found himself saying, as he sat at the table, a glass of wine in front of him. He wanted to know everything about them, when he’d never cared enough to need to know much of anything about anyone before. As horrible as it made him feel, even Ben. His friend had always been there for Tristan, though he had never returned the favor the way he should.

“About what?” Josiah asked over his shoulder, before turning back to peek into the oven.

Mateo walked with the same stiff yet practiced movements to him that he always had. It was as though he was always prepared to defend himself, yet smooth and quiet, like he knew how to keep to the shadows at the same time. Due to his life in the gang, no doubt. Tristan held his glass out to Mateo when he joined Tristan at the table. Mateo shook his head, denying the drink the way Tristan knew he would. He’d get him to come around one day.