“Yes, but—”
“I want this. I know we’re flying to Italy next week, but we won’t have any real time alone.” He leaned in and kissed Aiden again. “This would be just us. Having fun.” He winked at Aiden. “Playing hooky.”
“Hooky? I didn’t think the boss could play hooky.”
“My point exactly.” Sam knew he was beaming. “So I’ll stop by the office in the morning, touch base, then pick you up around eleven. Sound okay?”
Aiden chuckled and shook his head. “Sounds great, Sammy. Do you want me to call Cam and ask if we can stay at his place?”
Sam tried not to wince at Cam’s name. Not that the guy had been anything but cordial to him when they’d seen each other after he and Aiden had become engaged, but old habits died hard. Sam only trusted Cam so far. “Nah. I’m on it. I’m thinking someplace a little more romantic than your ex’s place.”
“Oh?” Aiden began to unbutton Sam’s shirt. “I thought every day with me was romantic.”
“It is,” Sam agreed. “But I’d rather leave his lordness—” Aiden laughed and shook his head again. “—out of our romantic getaway.”
“Got it.” Aiden pushed Sam’s shirt off his shoulders. “No Lord Cameron this time. So what do I get instead?” he asked as he brushed a thumb over one of Sam’s nipples to Sam’s stuttered gasp.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Sam said as he pressed his body against Aiden’s. “You usually do.”
Two days later
“SO WHERE are we going?” Aiden asked as they rode the cab down Broadway. They’d gotten into the city around dinnertime the day before, checked in to the Plaza Hotel, then headed for an Indonesian restaurant in Chinatown one of Aiden’s friends had recommended.
“I thought we could stop by my old firm, then maybe a picnic in Battery Park.” Sam turned and looked out the window.
Sam was up to something. Aiden was sure of it. He’d been acting strangely since breakfast, glancing at his watch when he thought Aiden wasn’t looking, checking his jacket pocket to make sure something was there. Aiden had asked him what he’d been looking for, but Sam had mumbled something about the theater tickets he’d picked up at the front desk. Plausible, but Aiden had never known Sam to worry about something like tickets before. And now this?
“What are you up to, Sammy?”
Sam turned back to him and smiled. “Jack Wellons called me a few months ago. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen him, and I just thought we could stop on the way. If you don’t mind.”
Of course Aiden didn’t mind, but he was still suspicious. “No problem.” The idea of a picnic in Battery Park sounded nice, though. It was pretty warm for mid-November and the skies were clear and sunny.
Sam just smiled.
Totally up to something.
THEY RODE the elevator to the seventeenth floor of the office building near the corner of Broadway and Rector Street. Aiden had come here only once before, when he and Sam had first dated after meeting in a Manhattan bar. The building was old and the tiny elevators creaked, but the offices had recently been updated, and the view from Jack Wellons’s office was spectacular.
The windows behind Jack’s desk looked out onto New York Harbor. A ferry made its way from Battery Park to Liberty Island. The redbrick buildings of Ellis Island rose from the water much like the Statue of Liberty beyond. Aiden imagined what the sunset might look like from this vantage point. He could almost smell the slight tang of salt from the water on the air, almost hear the sound of steel drums from Battery Park.
“Good to see you, Sam.” Jack, his hair far grayer than Aiden remembered, embraced Sam warmly, then turned to Aiden. “I hear congratulations are in order. Sam mentioned you two were getting married next week.”
Aiden shook Jack’s hand and said, “Change of plans. But thanks.”
“Aiden’s best man just became a father again. We’re headed to Milan next week to meet his new addition and spend Thanksgiving with friends.” Sam smiled as Jack motioned them to sit on the couch near the entrance. “And by the way,” Sam added, “I hear congratulations are also in order for you, Judge Wellons.”
“Judge? That’s wonderful news. Congratulations,” Aiden put in, a bit surprised that Sam hadn’t mentioned this before.
“New York Supreme Court,” Sam said with obvious pride.
“Supreme Court?”
“It’s not the highest court in New York,” Jack said with a chuckle. “We do things a bit differently here. But I’m thrilled.”
There was a knock on the office door.
“Excuse me a moment,” Jack said as he walked over to the door and opened it.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the judgeship?” Aiden asked Sam under his breath.
Sam just shrugged. “Must have slipped my mind. Great news, though, isn’t it?”
Before Aiden could say anything, Jack was back. “Care to see our new conference room?” he asked. “It has an even better view than my office.”
“We’d love to,” Sam said with a smile for Aiden.
Not that he minded, but Aiden thought the offer was a little strange. They’d barely sat down and now Jack was giving them a tour? He glanced over at Sam, but Sam had already headed out the door after Jack.
They followed Jack down a hallway and past a maze of cubicles before arriving at a closed door at the corner of the building. “Right this way,” Jack said as he opened the door.
“You first,” Sam said with a grin nearly as wide as his face.
In retrospect, Aiden should have known he’d been had even before he saw the photographer and the huge spray of flowers on the conference room table. Cary loved to joke about how dense he was sometimes. This one took the cake, quite literally—a two-tiered white wedding cake with two grooms at the top, decorated with black musical notes on staff lines that ribboned the cake.
“Sam,” Aiden said when his mouth reconnected with his brain, “what are you doing?”
By now, Jack had closed the door behind them and was donning his suit jacket.
“Marry me, Aiden,” Sam said as he got on one knee. “Right here. Right now.” He appeared more than a little nervous as he looked up at Aiden.
What do you say to something like that? “Hell yes!”
Sam stood up and hugged him tight. “Damn, I’m glad you said that,” he whispered in Aiden’s ear.
“Worried you might have to eat all the cake yourself?”
“Do you know how much I love you?” Sam asked.
“As much as I love you?” Aiden drew a long, contented breath.
Sam released Aiden, then pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. The marriage license. Of course! They’d gotten it three weeks ago. “Your Honor,” he said as he handed it to Jack.
Jack beamed.
THE CEREMONY nearly over, Jack’s assistant handed Sam a ring and Sam took Aiden’s left hand in his own. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” Sam said as he looked directly into Aiden’s eyes. “Funny thing is, I realize now that the only difference between marrying you and the past four years is that everyone else will know that you’re stuck with me.”
Aiden laughed and bit his lower lip. Sam’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and Aiden saw him swallow hard. Aiden knew the humor was Sam’s way of diffusing the same powerful emotions Aiden felt. Sam had been brought up as a Southern gentleman, as Aiden had been. Sam’s passion was powerful but silent—simmering beneath the cool exterior.
Sam inhaled a long, slow breath and blew air between his lips in an obvious effort not to lose control. “Aiden,” Sam said, his voice wavering just enough that Aiden noticed it, “by marrying you, I’m saying that I’m not going anywhere. Ever. I’ll be here for you. I love you.”
Aiden fought his own battle with his emotions as Sam slipped the ring Aiden had worn on his right hand for more than three years onto Aiden’s left hand. He tried to gather his thoughts. They’d both written vows when they’d planned their wedding, but even though Aiden hadn
’t read what Sam had written, he knew nothing Sam had just said was scripted.
Aiden took the remaining ring and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. The metal warmed to his touch, as though through its connection to his skin, it became a living thing. Sam, too, had worn the band as a symbol of their promises, never taking it off, even to shower.
After a long moment, he finally garnered the courage to return Sam’s intense gaze. “Sometimes the best things are the hardest to come by. But that just makes them so much better.” He slipped the ring on Sam’s finger as he fought to control his shaking hand. “Sammy,” he said, “I think I knew the first time I met you that we’d end up together. At least I hoped we would. Then when we met five years later, something told me I’d been given another chance. I’m so damn lucky.” Aiden blinked back tears. “I love you so much. Forever isn’t long enough.”
Aiden barely registered Jack’s words as the ceremony concluded. “Congratulations, gentlemen” was the first thing Aiden heard clearly as Sam released him from a crushing embrace.
AN HOUR and a half later, Sam and Aiden sat by the water in Battery Park on the same bench where Sam had proposed to Aiden more than three years before. Aiden took Sam’s hand and kissed his ring. “You were worried I’d be angry with you, weren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Sam looked out over the harbor and pressed his lips together.
“I can’t remember anyone ever doing something more romantic for me.” Aiden paused for a moment, then added, “Well, except the night you proposed to me here.” Aiden leaned over, meaning to kiss Sam’s cheek, but Sam turned and their lips met. Aiden tasted a hint of sweetness from the cake icing. “What would you have done if I’d said no?”
“Tied you up and kept you locked in my dungeon.”
Aiden repressed a smirk. “I could go for that.”
Sam’s cheeks pinked. In reality, they both knew if it ever happened, it would be the other way around, even if in nearly every other aspect of their relationship, Sam took the lead.
“So I know you,” Aiden said as he stroked a thumb over Sam’s lips. “You’ve got something else planned. Do we have time to spend a few hours at the hotel playing newlyweds?”
“Dinner reservations are at eight thirty,” Sam said after kissing Aiden’s palm. He glanced at his watch and added, “That gives us about four hours before we need to get out of bed.”
In the end, they cancelled the dinner reservations and ordered room service. Which, Aiden decided as they lay entangled on the sheets early the next morning, was exactly the way it was meant to be.
“DAVID REALLY didn’t need to spring for first class,” Aiden said as they settled into their seats for the flight to Milan a few days later. Not that he minded the upgrade, but he always felt a little guilty when David did things like that for him.
“He claims there weren’t any other seats.” Sam fastened his seat belt and glanced up at the line of passengers making their way to seats at the back of the plane. “It is Thanksgiving tomorrow. He’s probably not exaggerating.”
“Don’t kid yourself. I’ll bet you there are plenty of seats left in coach. Thanksgiving isn’t that popular a time to fly to Italy.”
Sam nodded, then turned to stare out the window.
“You okay?” Aiden squeezed Sam’s hand. Ever since they’d called off the celebration in Connecticut, Sam had seemed quieter than usual.
“I’m good. Really.” Sam brought Aiden’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I also can’t think of a better reason to call off the celebration than a new baby.”
“Yeah.” Aiden leaned his head on Sam’s shoulder. “So when are we going to tell them?”
“At Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Works for me.”
“You think David will be disappointed?” Sam asked.
“Nah.” Aiden knew David well enough to know he’d be fine with it. And maybe in a few years they’d have the formal ceremony with friends they’d always wanted.
“My name is Natalia. Can I get you anything to drink before takeoff, gentlemen?” the flight attendant asked with a hint of an Italian accent.
“Something bubbly?” Sam asked. “Even soda water would be fine.”
“Are you celebrating something?” she asked.
“Yes. We are.” Aiden fingered the wedding band on his left hand and grinned.
“I just happen to have something that would do quite nicely.” She offered them a knowing smile.
A few minutes later, she returned with two glasses of Champagne. “I hope you enjoy it,” she told them. “And congratulations.”
“Thank you,” they said in unison. She nodded, then disappeared once more.
“Forever, Sammy,” Aiden said as he lifted his glass.
“Forever,” Sam repeated.
Aiden took a sip of the Champagne, then looked up at Sam in surprise. Sam looked just as shocked. “This is really good stuff,” Aiden said. Not that he was a connoisseur, but the Champagne tasted at least as good as the fancy stuff David had served at his last party.
“Aren’t you glad we’re flying Alitalia?” Sam grinned. “Could’ve ended up with a Bud Light.”
Aiden had flown Alitalia enough to know that good French Champagne wasn’t the usual fare, even in first class. David, he thought as he repressed a smile. It hadn’t been just the first-class seats he’d taken care of. “I’d have been fine with Bud Light.” He’d have been fine with water as long as Sam was with him. Married to me, not just with me.
“Love you, you know.”
“Back at you, Sammy.” This time, Aiden leaned in for a kiss. Sam tasted like Champagne. Better, even, since he tasted like Sam.
The present
“YOU GOT married?” Cary blinked his surprise.
“Had to do something with that marriage license,” Sam said with a wink at Aiden. “It’s only good for sixty days, you know.”
“That’s about the best news I’ve heard in a long time,” Cary said as he got up. “Well, except the ‘you’ve got a healthy baby.’” He gave Aiden a long hug and clapped Sam on the back. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Sorry about the change in plans,” Cary added.
“No problem,” Aiden said. “I’m just glad we could get together.”
“Me too.”
Ten minutes later, after everyone had a chance to congratulate Aiden and Sam, Alex and Jules set the turkey and vegetables on the table, and they finally sat down to eat. David smiled happily as Alex began to carve the bird and Jules flitted about the table, making sure everyone filled their plates.
Sam leaned over to Aiden. “I never did say what I was thankful for, you know.”
Aiden laughed. “You didn’t have to.”
Fifth Movement:
Upstaged
DAVID SETTLED into Alex’s arms as they lay in their ancient four-poster in the master bedroom with the curtains around the bed pulled closed. David loved this bed—he and Alex had picked it out on a trip through the British countryside. Alex had jokingly called it their love nest. David had laughed and made a comment about how trite that expression was.
In spite of himself, David had come to think of the bed as just that: a place where he and Alex could hide. A place where he felt safe to be himself. The villa was that, as well, but the bed was his and Alex’s alone. David was sure Alex understood this. Often, after months spent on the road, meeting each other for only a day or two between gigs, he and Alex would come here and just spend the day in bed. Making love, of course, but also reading. Holding each other.
“I know we do this every year,” Alex said with a contented sigh, “but this was probably the best Thanksgiving yet.”
“Yes. I have to admit that as much as I was looking forward to the wedding celebration, I knew I’d miss being here to celebrate the holiday.”
“Things have a way of working out.” Alex kissed David’s hair.
“They do.” Davi
d closed his eyes and listened to the beat of Alex’s heart against his ear. The music in his mind was an ethereal blur of sound. Not a melody this time, but the musical incarnation of the sense of well-being and calm reassurance he felt with Alex’s solid warmth next to him. For a few minutes the week before, as Alex had teetered and nearly fallen off the ladder, David had imagined himself alone again. The thought of losing Alex terrified him. He guessed Alex understood this too.
“You knew they’d gotten married, didn’t you?” Alex asked after a few minutes.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just a hunch,” Alex said.
“Yes. I did. I put a call in to Jack Wellons after I got the news about the baby.”
“You know him?”
David chuckled. “Yes, although not well. His father and mine were friends years ago. I read that he’d been appointed judge in the Wall Street Journal a few months ago.”
“And you suggested he marry them?” Alex was sitting up now, staring at David, incredulous.
“I did nothing of the sort. It’s hardly my place to make a suggestion like that.” David did his best to appear offended. “I’m not a meddler. I merely set certain things into motion—”
“Knowing how they’d turn out.”
“I guessed,” David admitted as he repressed a grin.
“You truly are a master conductor. Orchestrating weddings, parties—”
“I’m not sure how I should take your use of the word ‘orchestrating.’” David eyed Alex warily. He knew Alex well enough to know there was something else at play in their conversation, an undercurrent.
“A conductor’s job is to coax the orchestra to give life to his vision of the music. They contribute, but it’s his vision. Don’t you agree?” Alex’s eyes were full of mischief.
“Indeed. But you’re a soloist.” David smiled.
“That I am.” Alex’s expression was triumphant.
“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?”
Symphony in Blue Page 6
