by Willa Okati
He didn’t believe in spells, or he’d have wondered if Ford had cast one over him. And no matter what, he did not believe in fate.
He wondered, though, if something might be said for serendipity…
Think about that one later. Too disturbing, and Gavin didn’t want to tangle up his head again before he could help it. Besides, the pressure to speak couldn’t be denied. So many changes, but after a kiss like that, the words poured out on their own, straight from the heart. “Ford?”
“Mm-hmm?” Ford asked, stroking Gavin’s swollen-feeling lips with the pad of his forefinger.
“I was serious. Before. You can stop treating me like I’m… I’m made of glass.” After seeing Ford’s perplexed look, Gavin explained, “You’ve been moving so slowly and so gently for so long that I’m afraid you’re going to pop something.”
Ford threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, that’s how it is? This is the thanks I get for trying to be a gentleman?” He kissed Gavin, and yes, that was more like what Gavin had thought an impromptu kiss from Ford would be like. Enthusiastic, maybe a little too hard, but so full of zest for the act that he infused Gavin with a shock of his own energy. This kiss made Gavin unsteady on his feet all over again for an entirely different reason and drove out altogether his ability to think.
He dared to touch Ford’s arm, right over his bicep, amazed at how small his hand looked there. No words and no thanks, just… something he couldn’t express otherwise, not without another kiss.
Though he should have known Ford wouldn’t leave it there, especially now he’d been given permission. “Now what’s that for?” Ford asked, gazing at Gavin with uncomfortably intense fondness. Ridiculous. Amazing. So strangely good.
Gavin shrugged, bashful again. “I wanted to.”
If Gavin had thought Ford’s grin was bright and broad before, that was like comparing the stars to the sun, and the same went for his exuberance. His whoop nearly deafened Gavin, and that was before he abruptly lifted Gavin and whirled him off his feet to be swung around in a giddy circle that ended in another deep, lingering kiss.
One night. Just one night, and he’d enjoy it while it lasted.
Because though everything Ford promised him was a pretty, pretty dream, that didn’t change its being a bad, bad idea, and it didn’t plaster over the cracks that ran deep and rough through Gavin’s heart. And whether Ford looked like him or not, too much of Ford was still too much like most of Donny. Gavin did not plan to get his heart broken completely again when a leaf on the wind like Ford blew past.
But until the night’s over…
Gavin tilted his head back to be kissed once more and once more after that and…
Chapter Three
Gavin’s fingers shook on the buttons of his shirt, a rich, saturated green with white pinstripes, casual but not sloppy. Usually his favorite. Now, when he looked at himself in the mirror, the green seemed too strong against his pale skin. The freckles he’d gotten from sitting out in the terrace sun seemed to hover over his nose and cheeks instead of being part of his skin.
He was in no way ready for Ford’s arrival; therefore, Gavin supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when a boisterously cheerful knock sounded at the door. Oh God. Gavin made one last desperate attempt to smooth down his static-filled hair and hurried out.
Gavin could hear Oscar, wherever he happened to be lurking at the moment. He hissed and slither-ran under one piece of furniture farther back in the apartment. “Sorry, boy,” Gavin murmured, his hand on the knob. He hadn’t thought about how the F1 cross would react to Ford. This could be… interesting.
And as he opened the door to find Ford there just as large as life and resplendent in a suit, Gavin realized that the “interesting” portion of the night had only just begun.
Gavin came to a standstill on the threshold, lips parted, amazed. Ford’s suit, a gunmetal gray, wasn’t tailored, but it still fit a body such as Ford’s like a dream. Full enough to stretch across the absurd breadth of his shoulders, over his biceps without strain, and the cuffs reached all the way to his wrists.
My God. He’d thought Ford to be the sort who might dress up in a polo shirt and khakis if he were in a highfalutin sort of mood. This wasn’t just a casual date for Ford. This was… Gavin didn’t know.
At least he hadn’t brought flowers or candy with him. Gavin wouldn’t have put it past a man like Ford.
Gavin wasn’t the only one who couldn’t seem to look away. Ford gazed at him with the almost boyish delight that made Ford uniquely him and never stopped being a little disconcerting.
As he looked his fill, Ford’s expression faded from delighted to almost reverent and made Gavin want to squirm. “Can I come in?”
What? Oh. Oh! Gavin’s face warmed to a simmer. He ducked his head and stood aside. “I think I’m underdressed,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
When he glanced up, it was to see Ford’s smile turning sheepish and just a touch abashed. “Yeah…” He drew that out. “That’s my bad. I was so excited over getting the reservations that I forgot to call and tell you it was… not black-tie, but not too far off. Not that you need to change. You already shine.” He reached for Gavin and ran a finger down his lapel, making Gavin shiver. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
Ford misunderstood. He shouldn’t have looked as -- endearing? -- as he did when sheepish. “Sometimes I leap before I look. I really should have texted at least. Come as you are. That’s the only way I’d have you. And if they don’t like it, then…”
Oddly enough, Ford’s reassurance touched him more than the compliments. Not like Donny at all.
A strange, wild thought came to Gavin. Tonight, pretend Donny never existed. Do that and make this a night to remember when Ford has gone from your life.
“I’ll change,” Gavin said in a rush, lest Ford guess what he’d been thinking. That was a story he truly didn’t want to explain. Why drop the baggage on Ford’s plate during the first night he planned to allow himself in… years? “Give me ten minutes.”
Ford surprised Gavin utterly by bending to kiss his cheek. “I meant what I said. You’re beautiful.”
“Men aren’t beautiful.” Gavin touched his cheek, still feeling the brush of Ford’s lips. “I want to change.”
Ford grinned brightly. “Then I’ll be right here.”
“Thanks. I… just -- I’ll --”Forget it. Gavin dropped it there and made his retreat. No laughter followed.
Instead of closing himself in, Gavin left his bedroom door open. Not far, just a crack, just enough to let him look out sideways and still see as well as sense Ford’s expansive presence.
Feel the comfort he brought with him. Much better than chocolate or flowers any day.
* * *
As Gavin might have predicted if he’d thought to do so, he hadn’t been out of Ford’s sight longer than three minutes before Ford appeared to grow restless. “Mind if I look around?”
Gavin didn’t recoil from the thought. Tonight everything was allowed to be new, and he could trust. Maybe that was stupid. Probably.
It still felt good. Amazing.
“Go ahead.” Gavin spoke much more softly than Ford had, but Gavin suddenly wondered if Ford didn’t need someone quieter in his life. Anyone as loud and boisterous as Ford and they’d deafen each other.
Combine the two of them, and he and Ford made one surprisingly good man.
Gavin bit his lip hard and dug deeper into his closet. The search took all the longer for his keeping one eye on Ford, fascinated at the big man’s approach to investigation. Gavin didn’t keep anything breakable or anything that couldn’t be cheaply replaced, but for all that it was like watching a lumberjack tiptoe his way through a glassblower’s shop. Oddly cute.
And better than “cute.” From this angle, Gavin could enjoy the sight of the tight fit of the suit coat over Ford’s shoulders and the flex of his legs as he stretched up to peer at this bit of bric-a-brac or crouched dow
n to --
Oh no. Gavin stilled. “Ford, don’t move.”
Ford froze in a way that would have been comical if he hadn’t obviously been tempted to run to Gavin and make sure nothing had gone wrong. “What’s the matter?”
“The couch you’re in front of. Back away slowly.”
Ford looked baffled. “It’s not an antique or anything, is it?”
Hardly. Gavin had owned the infinitely comfortable thing since college and softened its cushions with such a multiplicity of throws and blankets that they nearly drowned a man when he lay down for a rest.
“No,” Gavin said, keeping a watchful eye out. “Oscar’s under there.”
“Can I look at him?”
“If he’ll let you.” Gavin crept closer to the open door to keep his own watch. “Be careful.”
More gracefully than he should have been able to, and not in the least threateningly, Ford leaned on one arm, craned his neck, and peeked beneath the couch. “Holy cow. He’s gorgeous.”
That wasn’t the usual reaction. Gavin blinked. “He’s an F1 cross.”
“So you said. I still have no idea what that is,” Ford said in as low a hush as Gavin expected he could muster when he wanted to whoop in amazed delight. “Feline? God, what a big guy. Hi, handsome.”
Gavin chuckled to himself. He couldn’t help it. “Feline. Yes,” he said, finally finding the one suit he owned. Hadn’t worn it in at least a year, maybe more, at a museum charity function. Not Dolce&Gabbana, but not bad.
Glad he’d showered and shaved and that his hair had settled down, Gavin made quick work of dressing -- as quick as possible while watching Ford restrain himself from reaching out to grab Oscar and haul him from under the couch for a better look.
“Gavin?” Ford queried, sounding amused. “I get the cat part, but not the rest of it. Tell me what an F1 cross is before curiosity kills me.”
“A first-generation mix between a leopard and a domestic feline,” Gavin said, making tracks into the den to keep a careful eye on Ford. “He’s not tame. At all. I’ve never managed to pet him. I wouldn’t ask him to submit to it.”
Ford’s jaw dropped. “He’s a wild animal? In a city apartment? That can’t be legal, can it?”
Gavin winced. “It’s not legal, no.” An awful pang of worry twisted in his belly. “You won’t tell --”
“Me? No way. My hand to God.”
Gavin wanted to believe Ford. He had no other choice now. Stupid. Distracted, he flipped open the small box he kept his cuff links in, the box dusty from lack of use. “I rescued him from some idiots who thought he was a cute little kitten and freaked out when he kept on growing. They wanted something manageable and cuddly. He’s more than that, not just sizewise. He didn’t ask to be what he is. So I took him home.”
Silence from Ford. A hush that went on long enough for Gavin to risk a more direct peek around the corner. “What?”
Ford looked up at him, transmitting some warm message Gavin simply couldn’t interpret. “You keep surprising me,” he said, startling Gavin.
Gavin blushed. “Anyway. Like you said. He’s a wild animal. He lives inside because that’s all he’s ever known, or I’d have released him into the wild.”
“And because he’s all you’ve got,” Gavin thought he heard Ford murmur, though he couldn’t be sure.
“Life was simpler before you came around,” he muttered to himself, savagely poking through the box.
“What?”
“Nothing.” There. He’d finally found them. The links he’d had been searching for, jade to go with the suit. Handily enough, the suit matched his favorite shirt. Ha. If he believed in signs and omens -- which he still didn’t -- he’d have had to wonder about that…
Just… stop. If you’re going to have your night, then damn well have your night and let the rest of it fade away.
Strange how that made him feel better.
Though he managed the right cuff link, he couldn’t do the left. Damn it. Gavin resigned himself to the embarrassment and, cuff pinched carefully together, padded out to Ford in his stocking feet. “Could you…”
Ford rose to his feet in a fluid motion that brought his head bare inches from the ceiling.
“My God. Seriously. How tall are you?” Gavin blurted out, immediately mortified.
“Six-nine,” Ford replied almost absently. “How tall are you?”
Gavin pressed his lips together. “Five-nine.”
Of course Ford grinned at that too. “We’re like stair steps,” he said. And that was all. Regardless of banter, he hadn’t stopped staring at Gavin since Gavin had emerged from his bedroom. Ford’s eyes were wide and dark and contained a hunger Gavin recognized all too well.
And… restraint? Holding back? Why?
Ford swallowed so loudly, Gavin could hear the knot in his throat. “You look beautiful,” he said. Reverent. Again.
Gavin could either flee or laugh, and there was no running from Ford. He was starting to get that. “We keep going over this. Men aren’t beautiful.”
“You are. And you’re a man. Therefore, men can be beautiful. Do you need help?” Ford had Gavin’s wrist in hand before Gavin could nod or explain, and fastened the tricky cuff link with the amazing delicacy of touch he could sometimes employ.
From there, it was a short journey from wrist up Gavin’s body to his face, which Ford cupped to keep him from looking away while he gazed at Gavin in that particular way of his. He could… he could pretend he was that special to Ford. For tonight. Cinderella and midnight; that was how the story went, right?
Ford bent, careless of the strain against his suit, and kissed Gavin, just once, soft and sweet and quick. Light or not, it still left Gavin stunned and speechless once more.
“Sorry,” Ford said, without a trace of regret but with a teasing wink.
“Liar.” Gavin wanted to reach for Ford. Found himself beginning to do so.
“Either way, I couldn’t resist.” Ford met him halfway. “Do you blame me?”
Gavin knew that whether he did or didn’t, he’d still be glad he’d gone. He rose on tiptoe to kiss Ford’s cheek and hoped it conveyed everything he couldn’t with words.
* * *
Ford had indeed managed to surprise Gavin with his choice of restaurants. Not too much of a surprise. He hoped. The signs all indicated that this was just the kind of place Gavin would love, but… if he’d misread anything…
Gavin blinked and shielded his eyes, the city lights surprisingly softened and the moon just as surprisingly bright up here. Ford couldn’t resist hugging Gavin from behind and, with Gavin softened in surprise, saw no reason why he shouldn’t. He waited for Gavin to register the small, open-air dining area, the white linen cloths and crystal glasses, the cellist in a discreet corner. To smell the powerful and piquant food and the heady bouquet of wine.
But Gavin said nothing. Ford’s worry kicked up a notch. Too much? Too fancy?
“Do you like it?” he asked, knowing he sounded like a little boy watching his favorite friend unwrap a Christmas present.
He hadn’t known what to expect, but what he got was so much better than he could have imagined. When Gavin turned in his arms, Ford swore his eyes were sparkling like the stars above, and his smile -- sweet Moses, that was the realest smile Ford had seen out of him yet.
“I love it,” he said simply.
Ford whooshed out the breath he’d been holding; with it came the torrent of enthusiasm he’d been holding in check along with nervous anticipation. That equaled words and plenty of them. “I knew you liked open spaces, and this is a roof, and I’d guessed you wouldn’t like a lot of people, and I didn’t want you to be all tense and uneasy when I was trying to charm you and --”
Startling him once more, Gavin laid his fingertips over Ford’s lips. “I said I love it,” he said and, with a boldness Ford wouldn’t have expected in a thousand years, stretched up to kiss him.
* * *
“Tremaine? Follow me, please.”
Their hostess, a graceful woman of perhaps forty, tapped two heavy, leather-bound menus smartly together and took a second look at Ford and Gavin ever so slightly behind him. She clearly approved of them, if her little “aww” face meant anything -- and to a man like Ford, it most certainly did. Some signs didn’t have to be written in the stars, but they sure as heck weren’t any less fortuitous for all that.
Ford let Gavin take his time moving along the edge of the alfresco-enjoying patrons. As he walked, he seemed to be drinking it all in with a sort of amazed, not-quite-believing wonder that reminded Ford of a kid on Christmas morning who wasn’t quite sure if that great big train set under the tree was really for him.
He wanted to hug the stuffing out of Gavin but figured that his shy guy probably wouldn’t go for it in public. Later, Ford promised himself and took a good, long, appreciative draught of the atmosphere. Clear night, just a hint of crisp chill in the air, smells to die for wafting from the inner works of the restaurant, and Gavin beside him.
What could possibly go wrong? Ford sighed, content. It was going to be a perfect night and one to remember
As it turned out, he was half-right.
* * *
As they reached their table, Gavin frowned and looked up at Ford through his eyelashes. Ford wondered if Gavin knew exactly what that did to his heart, and decided probably not. The innocence of his bashful sexiness was at least 50 percent of its charm. “Your last name’s Tremaine?”
Ford laughed. Okay, that was about the last question or comment he’d been expecting. Twenty-five percent of Gavin’s charm was ingenuousness, though he was certain Gavin had no idea it was so. “As it happens to be, yes.” He moved to slide Gavin’s chair out for him. “I don’t think you’re a girl. I just like to do this. Can I?”
Gavin ducked his head and murmured something. Ford’s heart melted even as his ears strained.
“What was that?”
One of Gavin’s real, no-limits-applied smiles, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him look younger than he had to be surprised Ford nicely. Even better, Gavin brushed the back of his chair. “If it’ll make you happy.”
