You Don't Know What Love Is
Page 7
“I did, and do, and still do. I…” He sighed. “Earlier, some of those old ghosts paid me a visit. Thinking about my parents. That maybe they were—”
“They are not right about you.” Rom caught his chin, another thing Colton loved when he did. “Your parents are assholes who don’t deserve a place in your life, much less rent-free space in your head.”
“I know, Sir. Just me cleaning out my mental attic.”
Rom studied him for a moment, as if wanting to make sure Colton wasn’t holding anything back.
Well, he kinda was, but it was something good, and he knew Rom wouldn’t mind.
Not when he saw the result.
After cleaning up in the bathroom, they returned to bed and Rom snuggled Colton in his arms. They’d likely awaken to Colton playing the big spoon, because that’s the position their sleeping selves naturally gravitated toward.
“Love you, baby,” Rom said as he settled in.
Colton deeply inhaled, loving his scent, everything about him. “Love you, too, Sir.”
Chapter Nine
Colton could barely wait for Rom to leave for work Monday morning. Despite it being his own day off from the gym, and from working in the studio, he threw on clothes and rushed downstairs to the storage room where they kept their molds. The store wasn’t open yet, and not even Aunt Roberta was there.
It took him a few minutes to find the one he wanted, because he hadn’t used it in a while. Years.
The last person who’d used it was Grammy. She’d made him a special vase that resided on a shelf in his office upstairs, a Christmas gift to him her last Christmas alive. She’d carved an intricate series of hearts into it, and when lit from within by a battery-operated tea light, it cast sweet, flickering, heart-shaped shadows onto the wall behind it.
He’d retired the mold from use because it’d been one she’d created herself, and he knew he couldn’t emotionally handle seeing others use it. Especially since the last item created with it had been by her, especially for him.
This morning he allowed himself a short, cleansing cry as he sat there on a stool with the mold cradled in his arms.
“I hope you’re giving us your blessings, Grammy. He’s the one. He’s the one you always told me I’d find. Everyone says you would have liked him. I know he would’ve loved you.”
After mixing a batch of slip and pouring the mold, he sat at his workbench with his sketchbook to try to fix the idea in his mind. This would all be freehand, no stencils or punches.
This would be from the heart, and he wanted it to be a surprise for Rom.
Aunt Roberta discovered him sitting there when she arrived to open the store. “You’re up early for your day off. What’s going on?”
“Super-secret project.” He smiled. “Don’t say anything to anyone, okay?”
She leaned in to get a look at his sketchbook, her gaze softening after she turned to examine the mold and realized from the number on the outside which one it was. The vase was distinctive, not very large, only ten inches tall. A little squat, but very graceful in the way the neck narrowed before flaring out again. He would cut a small opening at the bottom in the back, the way he usually did, for the tea light to be inserted and taken out.
“That’s Roz’s special vase,” she said, her gaze meeting his. “Who’s this for?”
He smiled. “My wedding present to Rom.”
He thought she might burst into tears, and if she did, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t join her.
Instead, she threw her arms around him in a crushing hug. “Oh, that’s perfect, sweetie. He’ll love it.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I know she’s watching you right now and cheering you on.” She sighed. “By the way, we rescheduled the class that was supposed to be that Saturday, and posted about us being closed on the Facebook page and on the website. I’m putting the sign on the door today.”
“Thanks, Aunt Roberta. I hope I have time to finish this by then.”
“You have almost three weeks.”
“But I need to fire it and then paint it and glaze and fire it again after I finish the cutwork on it. If I screw it up, I’ll have to start over. That’s not that long. And I have to do it in secret.” He waggled a finger at her. “So no telling Lucy and them. They’ll be busting a gut and will accidentally spill the beans.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall over his bench. “Then you’d better get cracking on that, because Lucy and Sherry will be here in less than an hour, and you know damn well they’ll know what vase that is.”
“Crap.” He checked the mold, to see if it was ready to pour out yet. He couldn’t move it until it was. “Maybe I need to do the detail work upstairs.”
“What about working on it in the evenings?”
“Not with Rom home.”
“Ah. True. Hon, I think they’ll keep this a secret if you ask them.”
Time for him to arch an eyebrow—at her.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, how dumb am I? I forgot we’re talking about Sherry and Lucy. Okay, how about moving that rolling rack over here, then? Between the ropes blocking your area off, and that, it’ll give you some cover. By the time we’re ready to fire up the kilns, you’ll be able to take the greenware upstairs. Because if they see you, they’re going to want to discuss wedding plans with you.”
They had all the regulars trained not to enter his personal work zone. Grammy had given him his own space in the workshop area when he was a kid, even before he was living with her permanently. His own art supplies, his own tools for working on ceramics—everything. She’d encouraged and nurtured his art, making sure he never felt self-conscious about it despite how his parents had grumbled about it and wanted him to go try sports and other “normal boy stuff.”
“So why did Rom call me a little while ago and gently ask me to make sure to run everything past him about the wedding plans, hmm?”
Colton sighed. “I started freaking out a little this weekend.”
She reached in and playfully ruffled his hair. “You could have just said something to me. I know what a control freak you can be about some things.”
“No, I couldn’t. Everyone kind of took over. And then y’all said Grammy told you to do it, and I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and…” He shrugged.
“Sweetie, it doesn’t mean we don’t want your input. I mean, okay, yeah, we took over and told you we’d handle it. But I thought you were okay with it?”
“I am. I mean, yeah. But…” He finally looked up at her. “I let Rom be in charge,” he softly admitted. “That’s the way I like it.”
“Oh, tell me something else I don’t know.”
“Huh?”
She snorted. “Sweetie, you’re like his puppy. You follow him around taking care of him—we get it. I’m old, not stupid or naive or clueless. He’s the Top. Lord, half our customers in here are somewhere on the rainbow. You think I haven’t picked up a few things from those old queens here and there?”
The laugh escaped him, half nerves, half shock, but she draped an arm around his shoulders. “How do you think your grandmother knew exactly what to do? She suspected you were gay ever since you were like ten or so. That’s why half the people she called that day to go rescue you were gay. She wanted to make sure you had more than one kind of backup. Hell, I think Marty and George were hoping your dad would mouth off in front of them so they could kick his ass.”
“Really?” Marty and George were an old—now-married—couple somewhere in their eighties, both fem, but feisty and outgoing and two of the men who’d taken Colton under their fabulous wings as adopted uncles when he’d moved in with Grammy.
“Yeah.” She ruffled his hair once more. “Get moving, sweetie, or your secret will be out.” She headed for the showroom to start opening procedures.
Colton moved the rolling rack, which held a bunch of fired items that needed to be painted or glazed or were awaiting their final firing, so it blocked direct view of his area from the doorway leading into t
he showroom. It wasn’t unusual for him to have it placed there, because it made it easier for him to get to items if he was working on them for customers who’d placed quantity orders.
Once he had the vase out of the mold, he carefully carried it upstairs and set up at his small kitchen table to work, referring to his sketchbook as he worked.
All the while he smiled, feeling peaceful and…settled.
In a rapid-fire sequence of perfect life events that had brought the two of them together, he knew this would be one more way to show Rom his feelings.
I can’t wait to be his husband.
* * * *
On his way to work Monday morning, Rom placed a quick call to Aunt Roberta about running things past him for final approval for the wedding, and then called Kent to give him the same request.
Except with Kent, Rom could disclose to him the true reason, that his boy felt a little nervous about Rom not being in charge of this, and he wanted to set Colton’s mind at ease.
Over the next couple of weeks they finished moving Rom into Colton’s, and the wedding plans kicked into overdrive. Despite numerous attempts by Rom and Colton to contribute money, neither Kent nor the collective grannies would let the grooms pay for anything. Rom did put his foot down about not having a bachelor party. Neither he nor Colton wanted one.
Besides, anything that wasn’t one of Kent’s parties would seem lamely tame in comparison.
Ironically, it turned out that the woman who’d be officiating the ceremony, Loren, they knew her from Venture and from the Suncoast Society munches, so that took a lot of pressure off Rom. He communicated with her directly about the ceremony. The Monday before their ceremony, Rom took a long lunch and he and Colton went to the courthouse to get their marriage license.
Rom still couldn’t believe the grannies didn’t make them sleep in separate beds the night before their wedding day. When he woke up that Saturday morning, he knew it was the last time he’d wake up unmarried.
The man sleeping next to him wanted to take his name, not just his spankings and other tortures.
Wanted to spend the rest of his life submitting to Rom.
Rom didn’t take that for granted, either.
As if awakened by Rom’s stare, Colton stirred, stretching before rolling over and draping his arm around Rom and nuzzling his face against his chest. “Good morning, Sir.” His voice sounded deeper, the way it always did first thing in the morning, the rough edges not yet sanded off by being awake.
“Good morning, baby. Ready for our big day?”
The most adorable smile curved Colton’s lips. “I can’t wait to go change my license on Monday and officially become Colton Chessler Quinn.”
Colton was also adding his grammy’s last name as his middle name, which Rom thought was adorable and sweet. His current middle name was Darren, same as his father’s middle name, and Colton hated it. Aunt Roberta had hugged him hard and cried a little when Colton had told her what he planned to do, because she knew Rosalynn would have loved him doing it.
A way to honor her.
Of course Rom was okay with it.
Colton didn’t want to keep his parents’ last name, either, considering that his parents hadn’t wanted to keep him.
Part of Rom hoped he could one day meet the assholes and give them a piece of his mind.
Then there was the other part of him, which knew bigots like that were best left to stew in their own toxic juices, and to stay away from them, because he’d never change their minds or make them see the error of their ways. There’d never be any satisfaction in confronting them. If anything, it’d only rip the scabs off old wounds and make them fester and bleed in unhealthy ways.
Besides, not counting all their friends, he and Colton literally had several dozen adopted family members in addition to their blood relations. Including Kent, Tim, and Paul, apparently, who frequently stopped by the store to chat and flirt with Aunt Roberta and the other grannies. Rom got the feeling Kent was getting as much from the interactions as the grannies did, like maybe he and Colton shared a cruel, common loss of family early on.
Whatever the reason, it was nice having them around.
Colton rolled on top of him and then sat up, straddling him. Rom realized Colton’s cock was hard, morning wood, but it didn’t help Rom’s situation any, and he didn’t want to blow their loads right now.
He reached up and pressed his index finger to Colton’s lips. “Behave, boy. No sex this morning. You have to wait until after we officially say I do.”
Somehow, Rom knew Colton’s pout would become his new favorite thing about his boy. “But I’m horny now, Sir.” He did a sexy bump-and-grind against Rom that nearly finished him.
“No pouty lip. No. Or I’ll go dig a chastity cage out of my toybag and you’ll be wearing it all weekend.”
Colton tried to suck in his pouty lip, but Rom’s order only made Colton pout more, making Rom laugh, which made Colton smile—and they quickly devolved into a giggling, kissing pile when Colton rolled off him and Rom sat up to straddle his big, silly cuddle puppy.
Colton’s smile faded. “You realize today is the only day the store’s been closed, other than major holidays and because of tropical storms, since Grammy died, right?”
Rom sighed. “Aunt Roberta told me.”
Colton held his hands up, fingers splayed, so Rom could lace hands with him. “I really think she would have loved you. I know she would have at least liked you, if for no other reason than because you’ve made me so happy.”
* * * *
Rom squeezed his hands long and hard and Colton didn’t bother trying to blink away the tears welling in his eyes.
Crap, if he was this much of a mess now, he would be reduced to a blubbering snot fountain by the time they said their vows in front of everyone.
The playfully evil smile Colton loved so much returned to Rom’s face. “Let’s see if you’re still feeling like that after the end of a week alone and locked in here together.” They’d gone grocery shopping yesterday with the goal of literally not having to leave the apartment for a week.
Colton’s cock twitched. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, Sir. You might need to tie me up just to get a break from me. I plan on riding your cock allll this week, as much as I can get you hard.”
He didn’t miss how Rom’s cock now twitched in response to that.
Rom leaned forward, pinning Colton’s hands over his head and to the bed. As he stared down at Colton, hunger filled his brown gaze. Like this, without his glasses, he always looked a little younger, but far more…sinister wasn’t exactly the best word, because he didn’t mean it in a bad way.
Sexy. And sinister. Definitely sinister in a sexy way.
Sexister? Sinexy?
Whatever.
He was haawt. And he turned Colton’s crank without fail.
“I might have ordered a few wedding gifts for my boy,” Rom quietly said in that voice.
The “you’re going to get fucked until you howl yourself hoarse” voice.
Oooooh, shit!
But that was a good oh, shit!
Because he could only imagine what Rom had ordered for him.
“Thank you, Sir. I…” He felt a little silly now. “I got you something, too. I mean, I made something for you.”
His eyes widened. “You did?”
Colton nodded.
“Let me see.” He released Colton and swung off him, which disappointed Colton a little. Sure, he knew he could easily shove Rom off him at any time, if he wanted to.
But he liked feeling Rom’s weight on him, the feel of Rom pinning him to the bed like that.
He liked willingly submitting to his guy.
He liked the fires it stoked in Rom’s gaze, the way it made him smile.
That evil, sexy smile.
Smexy?
Ew, that didn’t sound right. Sounded like dick cheese, or something.
Maybe some words weren’t made to be combined like that.
He nervously sat on the edge of the bed, the box in his lap, before he met Rom’s gaze.
“You know the heart vase on the shelf in my office, the vase closest to my desk?”
“Yeah?”
“Grammy made that one for me. It was a design of her own. The vase, I mean. And the artwork. I mean…” He was bungling this. “I retired the vase mold after she died because she was the last one to use it—for that vase. I couldn’t bear to let anyone else use it. She made the hearts because she said I was her heart, that she was proud to be my grandmother, and that she wanted me to always remember there was someone out there for me whose heart would beat with mine.”
He held the box out to him.
Rom sat up, took the box, opened the top, and gently lifted the wrapped vase out. Setting the box aside, he carefully removed the tissue paper.
Colton had carved not only hearts into the vase, similar to the one Grammy had made for him, but had also carved their wedding date into it so that it’d be illuminated when lit—in the front, he’d carved it normally, but in the back, over the opening for the tea light, he’d carved it backward, so it would project correctly onto the wall behind the vase.
Painted on it, along with hearts, he’d included the infinity sign.
“You’re my heart,” Colton said. “For infinity. I belong to you.”
He watched Rom blink back tears as he turned on the tea light and placed it inside the vase, then got up to set it on the dresser. He stared at it for a long moment, then turned to Colton. “Don’t move.”
He stepped out of the bedroom. When he returned a moment later, he walked over to the bed and stood there with a small, black velvet drawstring bag in his hands. “I was going to give this to you tonight, once we got home, but I think I’d rather you wear it now.”