Gideon (Boyfriend for Hire Book 3)

by RJ Scott

  “Oh my God, Rowan.” He rolled back his head and flailed dramatically. “Of course. That’s fine. For now, let’s head up to the house. You can ask Mom about a cake or whether I have to try to find one of those as well. That anything of yours better be worth all this hassle.”

  He fell in behind Kevin. “You’re the best.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Good morning, Gideon,” Momo said loudly. She kicked Rowan’s foot as he lay on the couch.

  “Ouch,” he mouthed.

  Gideon leaned into the room, seeming hesitant. “Good morning. I knocked but…” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the front door.

  “Don’t be silly. Come and go as you please while you’re with us.” Momo was folding laundry.

  Rowan wriggled higher to see Gideon better, leaning back over the arm of the couch. “Did you sleep okay?”

  Gideon nodded. “Fine, thank you.” Under his coat, he was wearing a light gray sweater over an open-collared dress shirt and suit pants.

  “Rowan’s been complaining all morning about the bed,” she said with a grin.

  “I haven’t,” Rowan protested.

  She picked up the next towel off the clean laundry pile. “He has.” She met Rowan’s eyes. “You probably didn’t pull the zipper hard enough. I’ll have Kevin look at it when he gets back.”

  “No,” Rowan said too quickly. “It’s fine. I’ll sleep here or something.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Can’t have you sleeping on the couch and scaring off Santa…or worse.” She hummed what sounded like I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.

  With a sigh, Rowan looked at Gideon. “Please, ignore her. In fact, ignore everybody. And you know what, ignore me too.”

  Gideon gave a low laugh. “Don’t worry about it. We’re adults. We were sharing a room anyway, so it isn’t a big deal.”

  Rowan raised his eyebrow. That wasn’t how he remembered the conversation going last night as they had argued over sleeping arrangements.

  Ah, whatever. It was only for a few days.

  Momo snapped her fingers at Gideon. “Oh, your pants. Did you want me to throw them in with the next load of laundry?”

  “No, that’s not necessary. I’ve bagged them up, and I can deal with it when I get home.”

  “You sure?”

  Rowan shook his head. “Momo, they’ll be dry clean only.”

  “Really? I could have sworn Sarah used to bring Jamie’s suits over when we were doing her laundry for her.”

  “Maybe she did. Jamie’s suits were probably…”—cheap—“…a different type.”

  “Oh. Well, if you’re sure.”

  Gideon nodded. “Thank you though.”

  The room fell into silence, and Rowan felt awkward. “Okay. I’m going to take the dogs for a walk.” He got to his feet. “Come with me?” he asked Gideon and headed toward the entrance.

  “Sure.”

  “Did you want any breakfast before you head out?” Momo called after them. “Need a coffee fix to start the day?”

  “I already ate, but if you wanted something, Gideon,” Rowan said.

  Gideon shook his head. “I’m all right for now.” He sat down and immediately Deon was up on the sofa next to him, his muzzle on Gideon’s knee. Instinctively, Gideon was stroking Deon’s head.

  “He likes you.” Rowan gestured.

  “What’s not to like?” Gideon smiled and then refocused on petting the Border Collie, who wriggled and rolled over for belly rubs. “I’m a likable guy,” Gideon added.

  Was he making a joke? Deon let out a soft whine when Gideon stopped petting him, and Rowan watched his buttoned-up boss immediately restart the stroking, much to Deon’s delight. Any minute now Dog would be up on the sofa as well, the two of them were inseparable when it came to fussing.

  As if he’d been called, Dog pounced on Deon, and both dogs ended up sprawled over Gideon. At first, it seemed like he didn’t know what to do, which dog to focus on, but the dogs worked their magic, and then he was petting them both.

  Momo walked over. “Oh look at you. They love you. Just to say Widget is upstairs with Ava at the moment, in case you think he’s run off somewhere again.”

  “Does he do that a lot?” Gideon asked.

  “Once the little shi—dog disappeared for three days only to be found sitting on the doorstep as if saying where have you been? when we came home one day,” Momo recounted the story with a shake of her head.

  “I swear you and Mom manage to keep the most troublesome dogs as part of the family.” Rowan put on his coat.

  “Could say that about some of the kids too,” she said through a fond smile and rested her hand on her hip.

  Rowan pulled on his boots. “Can’t argue with that.” He straightened, jumped on the spot, and flexed his toes inside his footwear. “Right, we won’t be long.” He leaned in and kissed Momo on the cheek.

  “Have fun.” She returned to her towel folding.

  “We’ll take the dogs on the land out back so they can run about. Means I can show you around the place while we’re out there.” He paused and sucked on his teeth. “Not that there’s all that much to show.” He waved his hands as if he was a tour guide. “And on your left, you’ll see a fence. On your right, a tree. And what’s this coming up, another tree. My favorite tree.” He pulled open the door, Deon and Dog rolling off Gideon and leaving him covered in shed fur, not that Gideon seemed that fazed by his pants being covered in dog hair, but maybe he just hadn’t spotted it yet.

  “You have a favorite tree?” he said and stood.

  “Actually, I do. There’s this big apple tree near the edge of the property. I find it pretty when it’s in bloom, plus the apples are just at that right point between sweet and sharp in how they taste.”

  Gideon’s expression softened as he smiled, coming to Rowan’s side.

  “What? Is having favorite trees too weird?”

  “No. I was just thinking about how I couldn’t wait to see it.” His smile widened, and Rowan was mesmerized.

  “Well, I doubt it’s anything but twigs right now so…”

  Gideon shrugged. “I would still like to see it.”

  Ah, what is this feeling? Rowan’s chest tightened and there was heat in his cheeks. Was it because Gideon had genuinely taken an interest in something Rowan cared about? Talking about trees. I’m so embarrassed.

  “Shall we go?” Gideon nudged his elbow. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Sorry. I was thinking if there was anything more exciting to show you than trees and fences.”

  “I promise. I’m fine with trees and fences. So, lead the way.” Lines creased the corners of Gideon’s eyes as he encouraged Rowan.

  Rowan’s gaze was drawn to Gideon’s lips. There was that smile again. Warm and honest. Pretty full lips drawing him in. He kind of wished he’d been drinking, so he could use drunkenness as an excuse to kiss him again. “Yeah.” He turned away.

  Where am I looking?

  What am I thinking?

  And why do I want to see his smile more than anything right now?

  Eight

  Gideon

  At this moment all Gideon could think about was that he desperately needed trees, fences, open spaces, in fact, anywhere that wasn’t inside and where he could clear his head.

  He’d woken to the sounds of Rowan moving around the room, keeping his eyes shut tight, and waited until his non-ninja PA had shut the door behind him. Only then had Gideon turned on his back and stared up at the ceiling, wooden beams forming the cabin’s frame. On a high shelf sat a painting of a lake, the kind that someone new to art who’d watched Bob Ross might try to emulate. Knowing Rowan’s moms it was one of their kids who’d painted it and then handed it to them to be carefully framed and put in a position where everyone could see it.

  What must it be like to have a family so invested in the creations of their children?

  “Who knows?” Gideon had muttered to an empty room. He knew if he w
asn’t careful he’d slip into a pity party for one and reminisce on how his childhood hadn’t been one where the refrigerator was covered in his attempts at art. Up and out of bed with his bare feet on the cool floor, he’d stretched tall and ambled into the bathroom. He hadn’t looked at it carefully last night, but the shower was easily big enough for him. The water was hot, and on the plus side, there was a scented shower gel that reminded him of Rowan. Some small part of him felt as if he was taking a risk using it, for so many reasons, but when he squeezed some into his palms and washed, he closed his eyes and imagined that this shower was actually big enough for two.

  He and someone else that he had no name for.

  Not Rowan. Not at all.

  Dressed, he’d gone to the house and heard stories about when Rowan was a kid, of Widget the dog doing something unspeakably cute that ended with Rowan laughing at the memory. Had two Border Collies sprawled over him demanding belly rubs and offering love and shedding hair in return. Then there was the awkwardness of Rowan having to insist that no, Gideon didn’t need his suit cleaned.

  Deon and Dog were now pushing them down the path, racing in circles as if they were herding sheep, yipping and rolling and then stopping at a small gate, with Dog clambering over Deon as if they were hugging.

  “Look at that!” Gideon said, completely enamored with the fact that the two sheep herding dogs appeared to be best buddies and were hugging on their walk.

  “They’re inseparable,” Rowan murmured and whistled to get them to come to his side so he could open the gate, his gloved hand covered in crystals of snow.

  He was walking next to Rowan in a few more inches of the white stuff that had fallen overnight. Gideon was in borrowed boots. His pants were tucked into them, and his hands pushed into the pockets of his thick jacket with his beanie pulled down to cover his ears. The one thing he liked most about snow was how it made everything so clean and beautiful, covering all the imperfections of the world, and even though the dogs raced around like mad things, the snow deadened the noise, and everything was peaceful.

  “So this is it,” Rowan said and stopped dead under the skeleton of a huge tree. With the blue sky, the white snow, and the ghostly tree, it was the perfect photo, and Gideon wished he’d remembered to bring his camera. Instead, he tugged his cell out from his pocket, caught an image of Deon and Dog hugging again before they darted away, and then took a couple of quick shots of the ghostly tree.

  “Is that for your Instagram?”

  He was confused. “I don’t have Instagram.”

  “Yes, I know,” Rowan snarked. “That was actually my indirect way of asking you why you were taking a photo.”

  “To show people, obviously.” Gideon wasn’t entirely sure who he’d be showing it to. Darcy probably. Gideon had thousands of photos in the cloud, but they were mostly for his viewing only. It wasn’t so much sharing the photos as capturing something beautiful to remember. “Is this your tree?” He stepped forward and placed a hand on the solid trunk, staring up at the sky through the branches, then snapped another shot, but his gloves made it difficult to use the right setup for the photo on his iPhone, so he gave up after a while.

  “Yep. This is the one. See here…” Rowan vanished into a large evergreen bush, and Gideon assumed he was meant to follow. There was a gap in the hedge that wasn’t obvious unless you really looked, and he crouched a little to follow Rowan. The bush, whatever it was, formed an arch over them. They only went a little way in before the space fully opened, and the trunk of the tree was obvious. “It’s a lot like a place I found when I first came to my newest foster house in the long list of foster families.”

  Rowan paused and now it was his turn to press a hand to the rough bark. “Back at the old house, when my moms first took me in, sometimes I needed my alone time. There was one place, with a tree and hedges, and there was a quiet space. I would hide away from the other foster kids when it got too loud.”

  “Peace and quiet is important,” Gideon said because he couldn’t think of anything better to say.

  Rowan shot him a glance and continued. “With a book, cookies, and two cans of soda, plus a cushion and blankets, I would stay in there for hours. When we moved from that house to here, I was gutted that I’d lost that space, so I actually made this. I must have been sixteen, probably should have grown out of it, but I hadn’t. Anyway, Momo and I hacked at this bush and made a corridor and dug over the ground. I didn’t have much time to sit here, but she always said to me that it was enough to know I had it.”

  All kinds of emotion built up in Gideon at the mental picture Rowan was painting. He hadn’t told that story to get pity or for Gideon to comment, it was just part of the fabric that made up Rowan, and he’d never hidden his backstory. He knew Rowan was adopted, but they’d never talked seriously about that before. He also knew he’d been a foster kid in a couple of places before landing with his moms. Rowan had never gone into serious detail. It was a dangerous line to cross. One minute Rowan would share memories of his childhood, and the next Gideon would be spilling all his secrets about his family, and worst of all losing Luke and how it changed him.

  “Do you remember the interview?” he blurted and then wished he hadn’t when Rowan looked at him curiously.

  “For which client?”

  “No, the interview for your position as my PA.” He left the duh as implied.

  “Oh.” Rowan couldn’t quite meet Gideon’s gaze. “Yeah I do, sometimes when I’m lying in bed at night I’ll think back on what I said to you about my adoption, and the family, and how it flooded out, and I get a flood of embarrassment at what happened. Not that I think about you in bed. Or…y’know.” He waved his hand then led them back out of the way they’d come and Gideon wondered if that was the subject dropped. As soon as they were out though, Rowan continued. “I remember I told you my whole life story for absolutely no reason.”

  “It was when I asked you if you wanted a bottle of water.”

  “Don’t blame me if I connected a bottle of water to my moms and the sad sorry tale of little Rowan. Anyway, in my defense it was the first interview for a position I really wanted, so a lot was riding on it, and you promised to forget what I’d said and not hold it against me.” Rowan smiled at him because they both knew that Gideon didn’t forget things in a hurry, and Gideon couldn’t help but return the smile.

  “I forget nothing,” Gideon agreed.

  Rowan huffed a laugh as they carried on down the hill to the bottom fence. “Don’t I know it.”

  Deon raced diagonally from the far corner, frisbee in his mouth, snow kicking up after him, and Dog on his heels. A bit farther back was Bear, but he was lumbering at more speed than Gideon had expected from such a big dog. They were so free, lively, running, and jumping, and barking at the snow, and they were heading right for Rowan and Gideon. Not that Rowan noticed because he was busy chatting on about apple pie, or hedges, or something. Gideon wasn’t listening. He was abruptly filled with concern as he focused in on the running dogs. Any minute now they were sure to turn, and right on cue Deon swerved, and Dog followed. But at the moment Gideon relaxed, Bear had no brakes or the ability to swerve. Missing Rowan by an inch and barreling into Gideon at full speed, taking his legs out from under him and sending him tumbling into the snow.

  His breath left him in a sudden whoosh, there was chaos and barking, and he closed his eyes as he was licked and loved and not by Rowan, but by a one hundred forty pound Newfoundland.

  “Bear! Get. Off,” Rowan shouted, at least it sounded like Rowan, who else would it be. Why is everything upside down? Finally, Bear was off him, and instead of a dog, it was Rowan’s beautiful melted chocolate gaze that Gideon focused in on. “Jeez, Gids, are you okay?”

  “Gah,” was all Gideon could manage—he couldn’t even correct Rowan shortening his name. Rowan must have taken his gloves off because his hands were hot as they cradled Gideon’s face, and the shock of having Rowan’s hands on him was doing nothing for his equil
ibrium.

  “Hey, can you stand, should I call 911? Fuck it, I’m calling 911. Bear took you out like a bus—”

  Gideon gripped Rowan’s hand. He wasn’t hurt. He was breathless, and he’d probably ache in a few hours, but the last thing he wanted to do was get trapped in the ER for a single moment of his Christmas break. He would endure family, and eggnog, and gifting presents, and fun, and kids, and dogs, if it meant no to a hospital bed.

  “No 911,” he muttered and then rolled onto his belly, thinking that maybe he’d get a better start at standing up. Then he was on all fours, and Rowan was right there, behind him, wrapping arms around him and helping him to stand. Sue him if he leaned on Rowan more than he needed, but damn the man smelled good, and the snow was cold, and he felt weird and out of place. Rowan was strong—easily holding him up—which was a really nice feeling. He sometimes forgot that Rowan was a man and could easily bench press whatever weight it was that was good to bench press. Not that Gideon knew much about that, but somehow in this single moment Rowan wasn’t a PA…he was a man.

  All man. Sexy and strong and caring and holding me upright.

  A dog barked, more of a yip than a woof, and other barks joined the chorus. Rowan tried to quiet them, fear in his tone, and then Ava’s voice joined in the melee.

  “What the hell?”

  “Bear took him out in one strike.”

  “Did you call 911?”

  “No 911. Jeez, I’m okay,” Gideon protested, pulling away from Rowan and dusting himself down, hot with embarrassment. “Let’s keep walking.”

  Rowan poked at his arm. “You’re sure?”

  “I didn’t hit my head. I feel fine, and we need to…dogs…walk.” He waved his hand at the nearest dog, Deon, who was staring up at him as if he had two heads, or maybe silently judging Gideon for not getting out of the way for Bear. He could imagine dog-speak where he was the idiot and the dogs were laughing at him.

  Did I hit my head? Or am I just losing my shit?