by Ella Frank
“Ohh, gossip?” Felicity said. “Wait, is this about Penny getting knocked up? Because if it is, I already know that.”
Robbie’s feet came to an abrupt halt at the mention of their oldest sister’s name, and he held a hand up. “Wait. What? Penny’s pregnant?”
“Oh. Shit,” Felicity said, and Robbie could picture his baby sister twirling the end of her braid. “That’s not what you were talking about?”
“No, that’s not what I was talking about, but it’s what I’m talking about now. Penny is…with child? To who?” Robbie shut the door to his room and leaned back against it.
“Wait for it,” Felicity said, sounding a little bit too pleased at their sister’s delicate situation. “Jack Paulson.”
“Nooo, she didn’t.”
“Yes, she did.”
Jack Paulson? Robbie had some very fond memories of watching Jack swim at the lake every summer in his white board shorts and not much more. His family had had a house next door to theirs, and the last he’d heard he was… “Back up a second.”
“Isn’t that your specialty?”
“Yeah, but we aren’t talking about me. We’re talking about Prim and Proper Penny. Isn’t Jack Paulson married?”
Why he was getting on his high horse about that right this second was beyond him. Especially when he’d just come from a home where a married couple had invited him to dinner and their bed.
“He is.”
Robbie brought a hand to his mouth as he walked over to his bed and flopped down on it. “This gets better and better.”
“Right? But Penny swore me to secrecy.”
“Yeah, okay. Is she stupid? You can’t keep a secret to save yourself. You probably already told Val.”
“I did not,” Felicity said, and then laughed. “I figured you’d want to.”
“Oh my God. Mom is gonna freak. She doesn’t know yet, does she?”
“No way, are you kidding? You would’ve heard the sobbing all the way from Nonna’s house. Not to mention the lecture. Good girls don’t have babies out of wedlock.” Felicity paused and then added, “Neither do good boys. Remember that, Robbie, the next time you take some random hottie home.”
“They take me home, and I always make sure they wrap it up,” he said, making Felicity laugh.
“Good. I’m just making sure you’re safe. We all know you’re a horny little boy. Don’t want you to end up like Penny.”
He still couldn’t believe it. Penny…pregnant? She was so gonna get shit the next time he saw her. “I mean, out of all of you, I figured you’d be the first one to get knocked up. You’re a bigger whore than I am.”
“Hey, that’s not true. I’m just seeing what’s out there.”
“Mhmm. Sure you are.”
“I am. And anyway, why is it so bad for a young, attractive female to date a lot but not a—”
“Date?” Robbie said. “Who’s talking about dates? I’m talking about the hot, sweaty men touring your bed, young lady. Don’t even try to tell me you haven’t had as many men as me. And you’re younger.”
“Not by much.” There was a pause at the other end of the phone and then Felicity said, “And okay, maybe. But never at the same time.”
Which brought them right back to what he wanted to talk to her about.
“So…” Felicity said, when Robbie remained silent. “You said you had gossip.”
“Yeah, but now you’ve gone and stolen the spotlight with yours, and it doesn’t seem half as exciting.”
“Noo. No, no. Spill or I’ll come over there and make you talk.”
“Ooh, I’m so scared.”
“Please, you know I whoop your ass every time. You fight like a girl, always pulling my hair.”
“So what? You have a lot of it.”
“Still fight like a girl. Now, spit it out.” Felicity chuckled. “Bet I’m the first person to say that to you.”
“You’d be surprised. Some people like to see it on their boots.”
“Eww, quit. Now, spill.”
“Okay, okay. But you can’t tell anyone,” Robbie said, as he kicked off his shoes and then scooted up on his bed.
“Promise.”
“Like that means anything. You just told me Penny’s secret.”
“Yeah, but I like you better.”
“Well, of course. I’m the most exciting one in this bunch.” God, he loved his sisters, and he missed them when they weren’t around. They needed to work out a time to get together—and soon. “Okay, I need your advice.”
“Oh, I like this already.”
Robbie ran a hand through his hair and then let out a sigh. “Do you remember that guy I said I didn’t like a little while back, Priest?”
“Yes, the insufferable jackass with a stick shoved so far up his ass he would need surgery to remove it?”
Robbie grimaced. That sounds about right. “Yeah, him. Well, he asked me out to dinner tonight… With his husband.”
“With his husband?” Felicity said, and then there was a pause. “I don’t— Ohhh.”
Robbie could imagine her eyes round and her mouth parted in shock. “Yeah.”
“Wow. Okay. I didn’t expect that.”
“I know,” Robbie said. “I found out before Christmas that he was married, and you’ll never believe who he’s married to…”
“Who?” Felicity asked, clearly on the edge of her seat.
“Julien Thornton,” Robbie said. “You know, the Prick from Chef Master? Is your mind blown? Are you losing your mind right now?” Because he sure as shit was.
“The Julien Thornton? Celebrity and world-renowned chef Julien Thornton?”
“Yes. The hot-as-the-kitchen-he cooks-in Julien Thornton. And let me tell you, he is even hotter up close.”
“Okay, hang on a minute. Hang on a minute,” Felicity said. “You’re telling me that this Priest guy, the one you’ve been bitching about for months, is married to some gorgeous celebrity and they want to take you to dinner.”
Robbie replayed that back in his head now that it was finally clear and said, “Yes.”
“But it’s not just dinner.”
“Right.”
“It’s a date.”
“Err…right.”
“With both of them?”
“Yes,” Robbie said, exasperated, and fell back on his bed. “They both want to take me to dinner. Geez, Felicity, catch up already.”
“I’m sorry, I’m still in shock. I mean, you hate this Priest guy.”
Robbie thought back to last night—well, what he remembered of it—and that moment in the bedroom this morning, and… “I know, but…”
“But? There’s a but? Are you”—Felicity paused—“are you actually considering doing this?”
She sounded so scandalized that Robbie started to laugh. “It wouldn’t be the first time I went home with two guys. You know that. I tell you everything.”
“Right, but these two are married.”
Yeah, that’s how he’d felt at first too. But after seeing them together last night and this morning… “I know. But it’s different, I think. They’re so open about it, and honest with each other. Ugh, I don’t know what I want.”
“Yes, you do,” Felicity said, and Robbie bit his lip.
“You’re right. I want to go to dinner and find out more.”
Felicity started to laugh. “What’d I say, horny little boy.”
“Trust me, if you saw these two, you’d want to get between them too.”
“Apparently I don’t have the right equipment for them.”
“Nope, you don’t. But I do.” And his equipment wanted to know more about the flirtatious Frenchman and the ever-so-serious Priest.
IT WAS JUST after one when Priest climbed into his Aston Martin and slammed the door shut behind him. He’d had a hellish morning in court dealing with a class action suit against a diet drug company, which by no stretch of the imagination was his idea of fun. But with Logan off on his honeymoon in St. Lucia, Priest had picked u
p a couple of his cases until he returned.
As he sat in the parking garage, Priest let out a deep breath and knew there was more to his foul mood than the fact he’d just had to listen to three hours of brain-numbing testimony. He was still reeling from the new information he’d received that morning regarding Robbie and Logan.
He supposed it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. Robbie’s obvious crush on his work partner wasn’t something he hid well. With the lovestruck expression on his face every time Logan walked in a room, it was a well-known fact that Robbie was infatuated with the man. The surprise here was Logan.
His husband, Tate, was the polar opposite of Robbie, so it never actually occurred to Priest that they had been intimate. He knew that Logan was protective of Robbie—he’d been very clear about that at the party, when he’d threatened both Priest and Julien—but intimate? Priest hadn’t seen that one coming, and he hadn’t realized how much it would piss him off to know that Robbie had been in Logan’s bed, and that Logan had been inside of—
Priest’s ringing cell phone interrupted his thoughts, and just as well—he didn’t think imagining that particular scenario was going to improve his mood in the slightest. Hitting accept, Priest brought his phone to his ear and answered, “Hello.”
“Bonjour. Oh good, I got you.”
“You did, yes,” Priest said, picturing Julien’s handsome face. “Many years ago.”
“Lucky me.”
“I think the general consensus would be lucky me.”
“Then the general consensus would be wrong,” Julien said. “How are you? You left in a hurry this morning.”
“I’m processing,” Priest said.
“I figured as much. New information this morning, oui?”
“Yes. I didn’t know about Logan.”
“And now that you do?” Julien said. “Does it change your mind?”
Does it? Priest thought, and then remembered the way Robbie had looked sitting on their spare bed, staring up at him with eyes full of fire and…interest. “No. It does not.”
“Bien. I like him.”
“Yes, I could tell.” Priest leaned back in his seat, picturing the two men he’d left behind at the condo that morning.
“You do too. Don’t you?”
“I find that I do. However, I’m not sure he feels the same way.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Julien said. “He’s still coming to dinner.”
“Was there a question about that?”
“For about five seconds after you left this morning, oui.”
“And what changed his mind?”
“You.”
Priest’s body hummed at Julien’s sensual tone, and he shifted in the seat and asked, “What about me?”
“That boy is curious about you. The same way I was when we first met.”
“You called me an idiot the first time we met.”
Julien’s chuckle had Priest reaching down to readjust his pants.
“Mmm, I did, didn’t I? I’m not sure how I was supposed to resist your menacing scowl and threats that day. Nothing like facing a jail sentence to make me hard.”
Priest palmed the very prominent erection now throbbing between his legs. “You and me both, if memory serves correct.”
“It does,” Julien said, his voice now a raspy sigh, letting Priest know they were equally aroused by this memory and conversation. “Joel?”
“Yes?”
“Hurry up and come home so we can go to dinner.”
Priest’s body hummed at the request, and he thought about all the things he wanted from this man. “He’s curious, you say?”
“Curious but wary.”
“Both qualities that I admire.”
“Don’t you mean both qualities that turn you on?”
Priest smirked. “Most of the time. You, on the other hand…”
“What about me?”
Priest imagined the smile that would be stretched across Julien’s sexy mouth and said, “You breathe and I’m turned on. I’ll be home at six to get ready. And Julien?”
“Oui,” Julien said, sounding breathless.
“Don’t come early,” Priest said, and they both knew exactly what he was referring to.
Chapter Seven
CONFESSION
The most fun I’ve ever had was when I was doing something I shouldn’t.
Why should tonight be any different?
LATER THAT NIGHT, Robbie found himself in the back of an Uber heading downtown to the address Julien had texted him. Earlier, he’d sent off a quick message to Elliot telling him they needed to get together ASAP, and then spent the rest of the day trying to decide what to wear tonight. As he looked down at the magenta coat lying across his lap, he grinned. He’d picked his outfit tonight with one thing in mind: to feel comfortable in his own skin.
He’d already had one asshole in his life try to tone him down, and there was no way he would ever do that again. So if Julien and Priest wanted Robbie Bianchi, then they were about to get him—loud, proud, and fucking fabulous, right down to his matching magenta Oxfords.
It was just closing in on eight when the car pulled up outside a historical building downtown, and Robbie looked out the car window to see a beautiful iron awning that stretched out over the sidewalk. There was no restaurant name visible, or people milling about outside, and the only lights he could see were through the shutters of one of the windows off to the side of the main door.
Robbie looked at the driver and said, “Um, are you sure this is the right place?”
His driver, Dave, looked at his GPS and read back the address, and Robbie checked it against Julien’s text. Yep, this is it. Huh. “Is this a restaurant?” he asked, wondering if Dave had dropped people off there before.
“I’m not sure, man. It looks like there’s people inside, though.”
Robbie looked back out the window and decided he was worrying over nothing. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure they’re inside. I’ve just never been here before.”
“Me neither. It looks new, judging by the fixtures up there and the empty planter pots.”
Robbie looked out to see that there was a cover over the middle of the awning where what appeared to be a name was underneath, and lining the way up to the front door were several large ceramic pots. He let out a relieved sigh. Maybe Julien knew the chef here or something?
Robbie thanked Dave and got out of the car, and as he did, he smoothed his hands down his pants and then wrapped his coat around his shoulders. He walked up the path that was lined with the planters and took a moment to look at the thick wooden beams supporting the awning above.
The place was gorgeous, glamorous in the way only a true classic could be, and when his Oxfords landed on a large mat in front of the revolving glass door, Robbie looked down and saw JULIEN written in white script across the plush black material.
Wait. This place is Julien’s restaurant?
Robbie knew that Julien had restaurants in both New York and L.A. and that they were world class, but he’d had no idea he was planning to open one here. As he realized exactly where he was standing, the door in front of him began to rotate, and coming through it to greet him was none other than Priest.
In pressed black pants and a white dress shirt, on which he’d left the top two buttons open, Priest was the very epitome of casual sophistication, and looked as though he belonged exactly where he was, stepping out of a grand old building. The only thing that would’ve made it perfect was if it was in another time. Maybe when Priest’s pal Sinatra could’ve graced the restaurant and serenaded them all for the night.
Robbie quietly laughed at the thought, wondering when he’d become so fanciful, as Priest stepped out of the door.
Not one to usually care one way or another what someone thought about him, Robbie was surprised to feel a wave of uncertainty wash over him as Priest ran his eyes down his outfit, and then ever so slowly brought them back up to his face.
Robbie was close to
demanding that Priest tell him what he thought, but something made him hold his tongue. Maybe the daring look in Priest’s eyes challenging him to speak.
“I see you found the place without any problem,” Priest said, and Robbie looked past his shoulder to the doors with the wooden paneling and golden trim.
“It wasn’t easy without a name.”
“Even with a name, you wouldn’t have found it easier. JULIEN is not yet open to the public.”
So Robbie had been right—this was going to be Julien’s new restaurant. A Chicago location. But if it wasn’t open to the public… “Then why am I here?”
“Because tonight you are not the public.” Priest stepped aside, gesturing for Robbie to walk by, and as he did, he stopped and turned his head to meet Priest eye to eye.
“Then what am I?”
“Tonight, you are ours.”
PRIEST FOLLOWED ROBBIE through the revolving door of JULIEN and kept his eyes trained on the regal set of his shoulders under the bold coat that was draped over the top of them.
Robbie had dressed to impress tonight. Or he’d dressed thinking that he would embarrass and upset. But if that was his intention, he was out of luck. Priest could barely tear his eyes off Robbie’s long legs, which were wrapped in rose-colored pants, or the fitted cream turtleneck he’d tucked in all perfect and proper, which made Priest want to take him to the closest table, lay him down on it, and mess him the fuck up.
But that wasn’t the plan tonight, and when Robbie stopped in the main entrance to the restaurant, Priest came up behind him and said by his ear, “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” Robbie said as he took in the coffered ceiling of the main dining room and the refined neoclassical architecture surrounding them.
The space would eventually hold up to one hundred and fifty guests. But right now, it was empty, save the two of them, and all that could be seen were round tables, with pristine white linens set to perfection, and wall sconces in small alcoves, giving an intimate glow to the room. Off to the left was the bar area, and to the right was a wall lined with hundreds of bottles of wine—that was where they were going.
