“Sit.” He squeezed his arm, and Victor almost moved along with him toward the hallway simply to prolong the touch. Jian hadn’t touched him in ages.
Victor sat and heard Jian chuckle at something the man at the door said and frowned. It didn’t sound like Owen, who most often delivered from the cafe.
Jian carried two bags into the living room.
“Thai?” Victor took a deep breath. It smelled like Thai food, but there was no Thai restaurant in Northfield.
Jian nodded and placed one dish after the other on the table. “I ordered a little extra, figured it could go in the lunch boxes tomorrow.”
Victor swallowed as his throat grew tight. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had Thai food—not since they moved here. “This is lovely, Jian. Thank you.”
Jian frowned at him. “Are you okay?”
Victor nodded, not trusting his voice to hold steady.
“So, I figured we’d eat and decorate the tree after.”
Victor nodded again. “How was your day?”