Love in Tandem

by Natalie Arden

  “We all still have your contact details.” Kevin shrugged. “I might have to go back in. Smooth things over with Harris.” He sighed. “You won’t go too far?”

  “I’ll be at the penthouse another day if you need me,” Eamon said.

  With a sharp nod, Kevin turned on his heel and re-entered the restaurant. Eamon watched him go, a sick sense in the back of his mouth. He really was alone now, wasn’t he? He’d thought of the board as mostly made up of people he could trust. Sure, they were making a mistake right now, but when all the tempers had cooled down, he could find the reasonable ones and make his case. CarreSys was better on its own, as an independent contractor. Amalgamating with something else would only hurt them.

  But if they’d already made up their minds to join in on this crusade against him...

  He didn’t know what he could do to convince them otherwise.

  Sighing heavily, Eamon got into the car and began the slow drive home. Traffic failed to improve his mood and he thought longingly of the convenience of Sellis Creek where most of the restaurants were somewhere on the same main strip and he could easily wander over to Scott’s when he wanted to be distracted. Though maybe not today. Saturdays were Scott’s busy day after all, and Eamon didn’t want to disturb him.

  He flicked the Bluetooth in his car on and dialed his parents. As usual, his mom picked up.

  “Where are you, sweetie? What’s that noise?” was the first thing out of her mouth.

  “I’m in the car,” Eamon sighed. “You’re on speaker.”

  “Is that really safe, dear?”

  “I’m literally crawling down this street because it’s a Saturday, mom. I promise: it’s safe.”

  “If you’re sure.” The worrying would probably be adorable if it wasn’t so constant and about the most ridiculous things. The problems Eamon was really having were so much bigger than that.

  “I’m sure. Just wanted to check in with you.”

  “There’s nothing much new here,” his mother said. “Your father made runner-up in his golf tournament. There was a bake sale the other night over at the community center. With a dance, I think, but we didn’t stay for the dance.”

  “Dad must be steaming about the golf,” Eamon said, amused.

  “Yes, he’s determined to win the next one.” A sigh came down the line. “He’s always out there on the course now, trying to cut down his score.”

  “You could go with him,” Eamon suggested.

  His mother clucked her tongue at him officiously. “You know I don’t like golf, dear. Just my aerobics with the girls, that’s enough for me.”

  “Or something else–”

  She cut him off. “What’s going on with you, sweetie? Everything okay?”

  “Just had the stupidest meeting in the world,” Eamon told her. “I can’t believe these people sometimes!” He made a disgusted noise, trying to figure out what to tell her without explaining his disgrace – she couldn’t bear that kind of news. “Acting as though I didn’t build the place from nothing, like they can tell me what to do.”

  “I hope you gave them a stern talking to!” his mother agreed.

  Eamon’s face twisted. Leaving the restaurant wasn’t exactly exerting himself, was it? But then, what was he supposed to do when he’d been listening to the same kind of bullshit for the past hour, and yelling would only make them see him as exactly the kind of child they already believed him to be. “I made my views clear,” he said vaguely.

  “That’s good, dear. I know you can handle this.”

  “They’re just so frustrating,” Eamon complained.

  “But we know you can handle it,” his mother said again.

  Eamon tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. She was right, wasn’t she? It was silly of him to be complaining about his board members. He should be doing something about it! He slapped the wheel angrily and was as startled as anyone by the honk of his horn.

  “What’s going on?” his mom asked immediately. “What was that?”

  “Someone honking at me,” Eamon said. “Don’t worry about it.” He stared ahead into traffic and tried to change the subject. “You know, I met a guy this week. He’s really nice.” And handsome as hell, though he wouldn’t tell his mom that. “I kinda think things–”

  “That’s nice,” his mother said flatly. “Don’t let this guy distract you from work, okay? It sounds like you’ve got plenty to do over there.”

  “I won’t,” Eamon said, resigned. There was no way Scott was going to distract him from work. There was barely any work to be distracted from and anyway, Scott understood what was important. But his mother wasn’t going to listen to any of it regardless.

  “That’s good.” The relief in his mother’s voice stung, just a little. “You’ve got to get a handle on this, Eamon. Before these people get out of hand. A show of leadership, that’s what they need.”

  The last time Eamon tried to show leadership and actually chew someone out, he got ejected from the office. He was definitely not going to tell her that.

  “Yes, mom,” he said dutifully.

  “That’s my boy! Now I’m going to get off the phone and let you drive safely, okay?”

  “Okay. Bye, mom,” Eamon said, helpless in the face of her unnecessary concern. The call clicked off.

  At least someone had some faith in him. That had to mean something, right?

  So did Kevin, Eamon reminded himself, as his phone beeped and then read aloud his subordinate’s latest texts. And Kevin knew all about the situation, down to the silliest details of Eamon’s conduct. If he still thought Eamon had a fighting chance – if he still thought the company had a fighting chance after everything that was going down in the production offices – then probably it would.

  He’d had one bad meeting today, but he’d had bad meetings before. If Kevin thought it would be useful for him to meet some other board members tomorrow, he’d meet them and explain himself properly.

  20

  Scott

  ”I’m going to lose my mind,” Eamon said furiously, overlapping with Scott’s, “Sellis Cycle Works, how can I help you?”

  There was a pause.

  “Eamon?” Scott said.

  “Shit, you’re still at work.”

  “I am,” Scott admitted. “But it’s raining so the place is deserted. Don’t worry about it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Just had the most useless meeting,” Eamon grumbled. There was a weird noise on the other end of the line.

  “Eamon?” Scott rose from his chair behind the counter as though he could do something. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

  “Driving back to Sellis Creek,” Eamon said. “And some people need to learn to drive in the rain.” His voice rose. “Or they’re going to cause fucking accidents. Yeah, I mean you, rearview mirror shithead. Don’t try to pass me again.” He snorted. “Oh, wait, he’s doing it again. Jesus. Guess I should just let him do it and be rid of him.”

  “Maybe there’s a better time for us to talk?” Scott suggested.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just get a little annoyed with people,” Eamon grumbled. “You’re at work though. Right. Sorry, I can talk to you some other time.”

  “How far out are you?” Scott asked.

  “Another half hour or so.”

  “Come by here when you get into town, okay?”

  “You sure?” A pause on Eamon’s end. “It’s only going to be four-ish when I get in.”

  “No one wants to rent anything in this rain and I’m done with repairs for the day,” Scott told him. “I can close up early and take you home for dinner. That is, if you don’t have anywhere else to be?”

  “Nowhere important,” Eamon said, his annoyance disappearing and his voice sliding back to its usual smoothly even tones. “I’d love to see you.” A rueful chuckle. “And thanks.”

  “I’ve been missing you,” Scott said, glad there was no one in the shop to overhear him or to see the flush rise up his neck.
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  “You too,” Eamon said. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  “See you soon,” Scott echoed and hung up.

  There really was no one in the shop and there hadn’t been for ages, not since this rain had started and the few rentals he’d had out had come rushing back early, soaked to the skin. Scott started sweeping up and rearranging goods that had been knocked askew in the various displays. He’d need to wash the front window again soon, he noted, but certainly not in this rain, and not with someone about to come home to him.

  He was almost ready to start shutting down the cash register and tallying up the end-of-day when Eamon burst through the door in a shower of raindrop, holding his jacket over his head.

  “Brrrr!” Eamon shook his head, laughing. “It wasn’t that bad when I left town, I can tell you that much.”

  “Good to see you too,” Scott said teasingly. “C’mon in. I’m just packing up for the night now. It’ll only be a little longer.” He rose to his feet. “You want to sit?”

  “Nah.” Eamon waved him off. “I’ve been sitting all the way from Columbus.” He came up to the counter and leaned over to peck Scott on the cheek. “There! Now I can wait for you to finish up your whatevers.”

  Scott laughed, reaching out to put his hand on Eamon’s cheek. He pulled Eamon in for a quick kiss, their lips brushing past each other, warm and a little wet from the rain. “I’m glad you could come by.” He was also somewhat relieved that Eamon had come back, though he wasn’t going to say that to Eamon. He couldn’t try to drag Eamon away from his work like that: it wasn’t fair.

  “I’m glad you could close up early,” Eamon said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned on the counter. “Now don’t mind me. You do whatever needs doing.”

  Scott did a somewhat slapdash end-of-day that night, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that he could make up for it on Tuesday at opening. He’d probably curse himself then, but for now, all he could think about was getting out of there with Eamon on his arm.

  “Done!” he announced finally.

  Eamon looked up from his phone. “Oh, nice!” He pushed himself away from the counter. “Anywhere we need to stop on our way back to your place?” They both looked at the rain lashing against the front windows. “We’ll take my car. I’m parked just outside.”

  “Groceries then,” Scott said gratefully. “Not that I couldn’t whip something up from what’s in the fridge, but this will be better.”

  “Groceries it is,” Eamon said. “After you.”

  “Let me grab my umbrella,” Scott said, smirking. “Unlike some people, I check the forecast.”

  “I was in a car!” Eamon protested, and Scott had to admit, walking the few steps to the car pressed against each other under one shelter was definitely preferable to Eamon having his own umbrella.

  Grocery shopping with Eamon wasn’t too bad either. He wasn’t too distractable – wine aisle aside, and Scott was honestly pretty happy to let Eamon take the lead there. It wasn’t like he knew much about wine anyway. Other than that, he seemed generally happy with Scott’s grocery choices, carried them through the store, and slapped down his credit card at the cashier’s till with an air of smug satisfaction that should have turned Scott off and instead made him feel awfully warm and fuzzy inside.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said as they made their way back to the car, nudging Eamon in the side as they huddled under the single umbrella.

  “Do what?” Eamon’s expression radiated puzzlement.

  “You know what,” Scott said, nudging him again. “Just for that, I’m going to make you the best dinner you’ve ever had.”

  Eamon laughed. “Oh...no?”

  The drive back to Scott’s place was short, even going slowly through the rain. They ran through the rain together, clutching the groceries and the umbrella, but there was no denying the amount of water in Eamon’s hair by the time they washed up on the porch, and Scott was sure he was no better.

  “Let me put these away,” he said, kicking off his wet boots in the front hall and hefting the groceries in one arm. “Drop your coat wherever, and if you want a towel, just go dig around in the closet to the right of the stairs. He gestured vaguely upwards and smiled. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  He was just finishing up settling the vegetables into the fridge’s crisper when a towel landed on his head and he heard Eamon laughing behind him. “You’re pretty wet yourself, you know.”

  “Thanks.” Scott pushed the towel out of his eyes, turning to face Eamon and rubbing at his hair. He glanced out the kitchen window. “It’s supposed to dry off sometime in the night, but I’m not really seeing it just yet.”

  “Not yet,” Eamon agreed. He looked around him, a little out of place in Scott’s small kitchen. “So, what I can I do.”

  “Sit down and open the wine?” Scott suggested. “I’ll get started on dinner in a minute.”

  Eamon leaned over and brushed a kiss over his cheekbone. “I can do that.”

  21

  Eamon

  Even with the rain pattering away outside and running down the window in thick drops, Eamon felt himself warmed by Scott’s presence. He sat at the kitchen table, sipping his glass of wine and contemplating Scott’s back as he bent over the stove.

  Scott turned out to be a talkative cook, taking sips of his wine between explanations of what he was doing. Eamon didn’t really have any opinions on olives in a salad, but he listened attentively, washed along by the warm waves of Scott’s voice. His day – his whole weekend – had been pretty shit so far, but now that that was all out of the way, it felt like maybe things were actually starting.

  “That’s a hell of a smile for fried onions,” Scott said teasingly as he leaned on the counter.

  “Onions?” Eamon said, coming back to himself.

  Scott laughed. “It’s okay. I get used to talking to myself, living alone. What’s on your mind?”

  “Just thinking how nice this is,” Eamon said, sliding his wine glass back and forth over the same two inches of table. “Makes up for the weekend I’ve had, let me tell you.”

  “You said you had a bunch of meetings, right?”

  “Yeah.” Eamon ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t ask.”

  “I don’t have to ask,” Scott said easily, turning back to the stove to poke at his onions. “But it seems like maybe you want to talk about it.”

  Eamon drew back with a groan, rolling his head on his neck. “Am I that obvious? It’s boring, honestly. The most useless meetings you could imagine.”

  “Yeah?” Scott was watching him over his shoulder, eyes full of sympathy, hands still moving over the pan on the stove.

  It made it easier, knowing that Scott’s attention wasn’t all the way on him, that his problems were less of an issue than the onions burning. “I just don’t even know why they called the meetings,” Eamon said, resting his chin on his hand, elbow on the kitchen table. “I’m trying to talk to them about what’s happening at the office in my absence, and all they want is to talk about me.”

  “About you?”

  “About how I’m on sabbatical and need to relax.” Eamon rolled his eyes. “They act like I’m worrying about nothing, and the most annoying part is, I can’t even tell them that I have these details straight from the source, because then they’ll get on Kevin’s case too.”

  “They sound like they’re trying to be kind?” Scott suggested.

  “I don’t need kindness. I need results.”

  Laughing, Scott abandoned the stove for a moment to come put a hand on Eamon’s shoulder. When Eamon looked up, he leaned down for a long lingering kiss. Infuriatingly, it did seem to release some of the tension in Eamon’s shoulders. He squeezed Scott’s hand back.

  “Everyone needs a little kindness,” Scott said easily. He patted Eamon’s hand and went back to the stove.

  “You’re different,” Eamon pointed out. “I don’t want to make out with these assholes.”

 
; Scott smirked. “You’d better not.” He leaned over the stove, dropping steaks into the pan in a hiss of hot fat.

  There was really no chance of that. Especially not when Eamon had such a fantastic view of Scott’s ass like this. It had to be the cycling, that was the only explanation that made sense, but if Eamon was being honest with himself, he didn’t need explanations to appreciate the juicy roundness up top and the thickness of Scott’s thighs.

  “What else did they say to piss you off?” Scott asked over the crackle of searing meat. He sprinkled salt over the pan and the aroma of sizzling beef rose in the air. Enough to make Eamon’s mouth water – if it wasn’t watering already for other reasons.

  “Oh, everything they said pissed me off,” Eamon said, laughing ruefully. “I need to sit down and have it out with them, I guess. Figure out who’s part of this conspiracy and who isn’t. But I can’t do that when I’m still on the sidelines.”

  “Conspiracy?” Scott wasn’t even looking at him, reaching for plates in the cabinets between flipping his meat.

  “I may be being a little dramatic,” Eamon admitted. He took a sip of his wine, turning words over in his head. “But there’s definitely a hostile takeover in the works, and I can’t even tell which direction it’s coming from.”

  “That sucks,” Scott said simply. “So, what can you do about that?”

  “Wait and see, I guess.” Eamon puffed out his cheeks and blew out a breath of resignation. “Maybe these guys aren’t even in on that, you know? But they have to know something. They have to be hearing the same reports about little inquiries into our willingness to sell, that kind of thing. And someone is definitely spreading the word through the board.” He sighed. “It’s no wonder our productivity is way down if everyone’s waiting to see which way the axe will fall. Whether or not we’re going to be sold to some competitor and they’re going to have to scrap the last six months of work to follow some new direction.” Thumping a fist down on the table, he looked up at Scott. “I don’t want that to happen to them. We’re doing good work. I want to keep doing that work.”