Tristan hurried to the front door and waited for Rain’s eyes to meet his. In the path, Rain released Philip, who came running back inside in his wet slippers, and at last, looked up to where Tristan stood. “Hello, handsome,” Rain said softly, picking up his bag.
“Hello there.” Tristan felt a bloom of heat open inside his chest, his body reacting to the mere sight of Rain’s face, but he stood in the door, trying to keep his cool, waiting for Rain to climb up to him. He’d never thought he could be so mad for a man.
When Rain had reached the door, they stood eye to eye for a moment, in silence. Then Rain wrapped his arms around Tristan’s waist and pressed himself against him. “This is home now,” he said, his warm breath on Tristan’s neck. “Right here.”