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the terra cotta colored ones on the roof should be coming soon.

I have all the rooms and doors inside the house open all the time now, but I don't have any more furniture than I did before. I think I know what kinds of styles you would like, but I also have a gut feeling you would have a hell of a lot of fun picking those things out yourself, so I haven't bought anything yet.

When Tag came to pick up your stuff, I forgot to give him the red butt plug you came to me with the night of the wedding. I use it at night when I can't stop thinking about you. I close my eyes and try to feel your weight on me and your cock in me. I'm hard right now. Jesus, Colin, I want to feel you inside me again.

Marek

Colin read three more notes, which mixed house updates with more and more intimate, personal asides. Then there was only one left. The final e-mail, the one Jordan forwarded today. Almost afraid to read it, because then there would be no more, Colin clicked it open.

I love you. Please come home to me.

Two simple sentences. Marek didn't even sign it. Just those few words, in such small print, filled Colin's vision. He could see nothing else. His fingers shook as he covered his mouth and stared. “Oh, God.” Without conscious thought, Colin got up from his desk and started to walk.

He appeared at the door to Jordan's office, unbearably choked up. “I have to…”

“I know.” Jordan got up, ran to Colin, and threw herself into a hug. “I'm going to miss you like hell, but I want for you whatever will fill you up the same way having Tag does for me.” She pulled back, and a little grumble resonated in her throat. “Even if that happens to be all the way in Fiji.”

Colin laughed with a wobble, tears still filming his eyes. He couldn't believe how ridiculously emotional he was, but he knew how difficult it was for Marek to let down his guard and admit to those three little words. I love you.

“Think of it like this.” Colin finally gathered himself enough to speak. “You have a free place to stay whenever you want a vacation.”

Jordan raised a brow. “Now I know you're a real couple because you're already making plans for your friends' visits without consulting your partner first.” Her brown eyes softened, letting vulnerability show in a way she let very few people see. “Go. Be with Marek. Prove to me my gut wasn't wrong in helping him find a way back into your heart.”

“I don't think he ever left.” Cupping Jordan's cheek, Colin brushed his thumb over her baby-smooth skin, committing every inch of his dearest friend to memory. “You know I love you, right? I'll come back and take care of work stuff and my apartment stuff and a thousand other things.”

“Don't worry about any of that.” Jordan brushed him aside. “You own your percentage of the firm until you decide to sell. You never have to, if that's not what you want. We'll help you from here. I love you too.” She smacked his ass with a sharp sting. “Now go pack a bag and get out of here.”

He gave her one more suffocating hug. “Bye,” he whispered roughly and pulled away before he started bawling like a baby again.

“Call me when you get there so I know you're safe!”

Colin gave her a thumbs-up and left the office he'd called home for five years.

He had a man, a house, and an island who owned that title in his heart now.

* * * * *

“Thank you.” Colin set his bag down on the dock and paid the taxi-boat driver. He shook the man's hand, let go, and stepped back, watching as the boat drove away.

Without even looking up, Colin took note of one thing immediately. No boat. Marek isn't here. Upon taking a moment, Colin realized that might not be such a bad thing. He probably needed some time to feel his way around again and get a handle on his emotions before dealing with an audience. Inhaling the balmy tropical air and listening to the signs of life coming from the cover of trees and mountain, Colin finally turned and lifted his gaze to the house.

Oh my. He grabbed his duffel and started jogging down the dock, needing to get closer. It's nearly perfect.

The white of the house gleamed with almost blinding brightness in the sunlight, and the tile roof was now all blue again, uniform and clean. Against the sharp backdrop of life-rich green, the house stood out as if it were framed. As he drew near, Colin noticed the windows sparkled with washed panes of glass, and the comforting sight of gauzy curtains flowing settled many of his jumping nerves.

Colin strode up the porch steps and planted his foot right where he had in his first dream and real-life visit…and it did not groan or protest his weight. He fixed it for me. Rocking chairs and a low table sat to the left of the door, and all the way to the end on the right, a blue and white striped hammock swayed in the breeze.

The door itself remained a raw, natural wood, no red in sight.

Somehow, that didn't surprise Colin one bit.

Opening the door, Colin stepped over the threshold and put down his bag. Not waiting any longer, he took off his shoes and socks and let the soles of his feet absorb the cool hardwood flooring beneath them.

He got nothing, and although he understood, his heart twinged with guilt and sadness.

Walking to the wall, Colin put his mouth right against the plaster. “I'm sorry I went away.” His fingers danced over the surface in a loving, apologetic caress. “I promise I'm not leaving again.”

Colin continued moving and whispering about the invigorated state of the home, and its masters' renewed partnership, never letting up or feeling

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