Twilight: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 3

November—about the woman he’d loved, who hadn’t loved him enough to put aside his past—Sam laid a hand on Dean’s arm. “You’ll find somebody to love you like that.”
Dean glanced at him. “You think so? ’Cause I’m starting to wonder.”
“I know so. You’re a hell of catch, Dean. Anybody, male or female, would be lucky to have you.”
Gratitude shone in Dean’s eyes. “Thanks, Sam. That means a lot to me.”
“It’s true.”
Dean smiled. They walked in silence for a little while. When the conversation resumed, it followed safer subjects than love and relationships.
The two of them were arguing about whether or not stock car racing was a sport when the trail took a sharp turn around a hulking mound of stone and spilled from the shelter of the trees into the level rays of the setting sun.
Sam stopped talking in mid-sentence and stared, awestruck.
“Oh. Oh, wow.”
Dean nodded, eyes wide. “You said it.”
The path opened onto an expanse of gently sloping white stone which stretched right, left and forward. Several yards in front of them, the earth abruptly ended in a vaporous white sea stained pink, orange and lavender with the sunset light. Brown and green mountaintops dusted with snow rose above the clouds, their roots hidden along with the rest of the world below. Sam felt as if they stood on an island floating in the sky. It was beautiful, serene and surreal.
Raising his camera, Dean snapped a photo of the stunning scene. “Go over there with Bo.” He nodded toward where Bo stood beside Lex and Carl, ahead and to the right of where Sam and Dean were. “I want to take some pics of y’all together.”
“But Bo said we shouldn’t—” Sam stopped, acutely aware of the incredulous expression blossoming on Dean’s face. “Never mind. Can’t we just take pictures later?”
“No. Come on.”
Grabbing Sam’s arm, Dean hauled him across the rock toward Bo. The determined glint in Dean’s eyes told Sam he and Bo were about to be photographed whether Bo liked it or not. Sam put on what he hoped was a pleasant expression and steeled himself for one of Bo’s patented silent confrontations.
“Hey, Bo!” Dean called.
Bo turned around. “Yes?”
“Stand here with Sam, I want to get y’all’s picture with the sunset.”
Predictably, Bo darted a hunted look at the dozen or so guests scattered across Sunset Rock before pinning Dean with a barbed glare. “I was just talking to Lex and Carl. Can’t we get some pictures another time?”
“Oh, let the boy get his pictures,” Carl said, slapping Bo on the back. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later. Everyone usually gathers in the common room next to the office after dinner.”
Bo’s eyelids fluttered closed. Sam could practically hear him counting to ten in his head. Without a word, Bo opened his eyes, stalked over to Sam and stood stiffly beside him. “Okay, Dean. Just a few.”
Pursing his lips, Dean planted a hand on his hip. “Could you pretend to enjoy yourself for just a minute?”
Bo looked startled for a second, then burst into laughter. Surprised, Sam stared at him.
“Sorry, Dean. How’s this?” Slinging an arm around Sam’s neck, Bo flashed a wide smile.
This close, Bo smelled like sweat and sex, with the scent of cold winter woods clinging to his black braid and red knit cap. It was all Sam could do to keep himself from pulling Bo close and nuzzling his neck. He hooked an arm around Bo’s back, hoping the movement looked platonic, and smiled for the camera.
“Awesome!” Dean snapped a photo, brought it up on his camera and crowed in delight. “Oh man, this is fantastic. I’ll email it to y’all once we get home and I get my pics uploaded.”
“Great.” Removing his arm from around Sam, Bo stepped back and stuck his hands in his pockets. He swiveled toward the west. “God, this is just gorgeous.”
Turning to face the setting sun, Sam watched Bo from the corner of his eye. Bo stood so close their arms brushed. His face glowed red, orange and pink in the light of the sinking sun. Sam ached to take him in his arms and kiss him. Most of the other couples were doing just that, and it bothered Sam more than he liked to admit that he and Bo couldn’t do the same.
What bothered him even more was Bo most likely wouldn’t allow such contact even if there were no such thing as prejudice against gays. He simply wasn’t one to cuddle in public.
    You never were either, before Bo, Sam reminded himself, watching as