by Con Riley
He’d tried to sound casual when he’d asked if it looked as if Jack and Marco were together.
Morgan had answered slowly. “Like on a date? Last night? Would that be a problem?”
“No.” Maybe he’d sounded a little grudging.
“So one of the best people you know dancing all night with a hot, witty, single guy isn’t what provoked you into coming over here tonight?”
“I just need to talk to him.” That was true. Aiden wanted to talk now. He needed to. Now that he’d started, he was finding it hard to keep things to himself.
Theo had spoken up then. “What’s up, Aiden?”
He sounded so relaxed and interested that Aiden had started talking. By the time he left, Theo was holding the flash drive Aiden had brought home from the store and had promised to review the register figures stored on it to see if he could figure out what Levi had been up to.
He’d driven away wondering just what the hell was up with him.
First he’d given Theo access to every financial detail about his business—it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that there were more problems than the money Levi had taken from the register. Before he’d been laid off, Theo had run the accounting department for the same company Aiden’s dad had worked for. He’d see right away that Aiden was in real trouble.
Then he’d let Morgan shove him down the hallway to his and Theo’s bedroom and hadn’t argued when Morgan delved in his closet. He picked out a shirt that he said was perfect for a nightclub and offered it to Aiden.
Morgan had waited until Aiden was pulling it on before he talked about Marco again, this time sounding much more serious. “I do like Marco. I want you to know that, Aiden. And I agree with what you said. He is cool. It was me who had a problem.” He’d stood, arms tightly crossed, looking in the bedroom mirror as Aiden tugged down his shirt.
“You don’t have to explain. I know he’s kind of in your face.”
“No,” Morgan had said, his face twisting. “I didn’t give him a chance, and it really wasn’t his fault.” He’d closed his eyes for a moment. “It was just tough hearing Theo call him Ben. He didn’t even know when he was doing it until Marco corrected him. That wasn’t Marco’s fault, and it was completely understandable.”
Morgan was showing a side of himself that Aiden hadn’t ever taken the time to notice. His next admission confirmed that.
“I’m an asshole, Aiden. I should have made him more welcome. It’s got to have been weird for him, seeing us together. He was so close to his brother. I’m trying hard to include Marco in our plans now. It just took me a while to get over myself, and . . .,” he hesitated before shrugging. “I guess I kinda expect the worst from people.”
As he’d driven away, Aiden had gripped his steering wheel, feeling the sheer white cotton of his borrowed shirt strain over his biceps. Maybe he should have turned around and gone home if Marco was having fun with other people. Instead, he found himself locking his truck and walking quickly toward the club, recalling Morgan’s final words.
“I should have trusted that Theo only cares about very special people.”
Inside the club, music boomed, and the bar area was crowded. Aiden waited his turn and paid for a beer, scanning the shadowy seating area as he did so.
His breath caught when warm hands gripped his waist from behind. It rushed out in a huff when he turned and saw Drew.
“You changed your mind.”
Aiden leaned down to speak. “No . . . . Yes . . . . I’m looking for a friend.”
Drew’s wide smile slipped. He let go of Aiden slowly.
“You know, you could have told me if you were with somebody. I thought you were single like me.” His frown looked all wrong on him. Drew shook his head, then said, “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”
It did to Aiden. He grabbed Drew’s wrist as he started to move away, then motioned toward the doors leading to the next floor. They stood where it was less noisy, and Aiden told him why he’d changed his mind about coming out that evening.
“I’m looking for my housemate.”
Drew’s gaze was disbelieving.
“I really am. He’s about so tall.” He indicated around shoulder height. “And he’s Italian. Tan—” He stopped before the words “and gorgeous” slipped out.
Drew blinked slowly.
“I just need to talk to him. Have you seen him? He’s with a tall blond guy. Texan. Wears his hair tied back.”
Drew nodded. When he spoke, Aiden leaned down to hear him.
“He’s really your housemate?” He watched as Aiden nodded. “He’s hot.”
“Yeah.” It was the truth. Marco was more than that, though. He didn’t add to his statement, guessing that Drew wouldn’t see listening skills and curiosity as ideal onetime-thing characteristics.
“I gotta tell you, Aiden, for someone who only hooks up for fun, you’re doing it all wrong. You look like someone stole your dog. If you share a house, why don’t you wait for him at home?”
Aiden shrugged. Waiting any longer seemed too hard.
Drew ran a hand over his buzz cut, then sighed. “You need a wingman? Someone to distract the other guy from your ‘housemate’?”
Aiden didn’t want to ask for help. He shook his head, but the words “Yeah, I really do. Would you? That would be great,” tumbled out.
“Sure. The guy he’s with is hot too, and you know I’m all about tall guys, don’t you?”
This time, when Drew smiled, Aiden smiled slowly back. They went upstairs and pushed their way through to the dance floor. Aiden couldn’t see Marco anywhere. He took a sip of beer, looking around at the seating area. Nope. Not there either. His gaze fell on the bathroom door. Maybe Marco had come out to take the edge off like he had a month ago.
Drew elbowed him. “Over there. Is that him?”
Aiden looked in the direction he was pointing.
Marco had his hands on Jack’s shoulders. His head tilted as the Texan spoke into his ear. They moved slowly together, turning in a slow circle, talking to each other and laughing. It hardly looked like the kind of dancing everyone else was doing. His dad used to grab his mom and slow dance across the kitchen that way. He’d say, “Shut your eyes, boys. I’m smooching with your mother,” and Evan would pretend to puke.
“Well, is it him?” Drew caught his attention by flicking his ear.
“Yes.” Aiden couldn’t look away. Marco looked great, wisps of dark hair curling over his shirt collar like it had over his pillow. He’d look even better without Jack’s hands on his hips.
“Hold this,” Drew ordered.
Aiden took Drew’s bottle. From his elevated position by the steps leading down to the dance floor, he watched Drew work his way steadily closer until he tapped on Marco’s shoulder and then shouted in his ear. When his housemate turned—head whipping around—his frown was fierce. Aiden gripped the beer bottles tighter. Then Marco saw him and smiled, walking away from Jack without a backward glance as Jack bent to listen to something Drew was saying.
Aiden left the bottles on a ledge and met him at the bottom of the steps. Marco stepped up a couple and then cupped a hand over Aiden’s ear.
“What are you doing here, tesoro?” The music pace picked up, and Marco was jostled as men pushed past to get on the dance floor. Aiden held him steady, taking his weight for a moment when he nearly lost his footing. Marco’s arms slid around his shoulders, and Aiden felt rather than heard his breathless “Grazie.” He pointed to the door, and Marco nodded, only stopping at the top of the steps to turn back and scan the dance floor. Jack was laughing as he danced, and Drew was smiling widely.
Aiden took Marco’s hand and waited as his housemate looked down at where Aiden’s fingers wrapped around his. Marco looked confused. Aiden pulled him toward the door, not looking at him again until they were walking along the sidewalk on the way back to his truck.
His ears still rang with club music as they skirted a group of people coming out of a nearby restaurant,
the aroma of basil and garlic following in their path. Marco’s fingers gripped his, pulling at him until he stopped.
“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
He didn’t resist as Marco pulled him into a shadowed doorway.
“Aiden, where are we going?”
He did his best to answer. “I don’t know where we’re going.” He truly had no clue. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
Marco’s sigh sounded annoyed. “Yes, you do. Why did you come here? Answer me.”
Aiden shivered. Marco’s tone was stern. It made his face heat and his words come out on a whisper. “I just . . . I needed to see you.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” Aiden shook his head, then rubbed at his forehead. “Everything.”
A car passed by, its headlights revealing Marco’s focused concentration. He said, “Tell me what you need,” and Aiden answered as if he’d been given a direct order.
“You.”
“For what?”
He felt Marco’s hand smooth a path from his stomach over his chest, stopping where his inner panic smoldered, as if he could feel its heat.
His Italian accent sounded gruff. “I told you I thought you needed friendship. Was I wrong?”
Aiden shook his head, then nodded.
“Use your words. If I was mistaken, then tell me what you do need.” Marco’s hand reached Aiden’s neck, his thumb seeking out the pulse there as his free hand gripped Aiden’s hip.
“What do I need?” Aiden didn’t take a moment to think. “You. Just you. For me.”
Marco stood on tiptoe. Right before he kissed him, Aiden felt his smile against his lips.
Chapter Nine
They drove across Seattle in almost complete silence. From Marco, this was weirdly out of character. At a stoplight, Aiden turned to find him tapping out a message on his cell phone. He looked up and said, “Jack,” as if a single word would do instead of his usual twenty. The light changed, and they moved off again. Aiden frowned, his head too full of the way they’d just kissed—practically in public—to get his thoughts into order.
When they finally got home, Aiden turned off the engine and stared straight ahead at Paul’s remaining pile of lumber. In the bright moonlight, it looked like a solid wall of silver. He glanced in his rearview mirror. Paul’s truck was gone from Amber’s driveway.
“What?” Marco asked.
Aiden turned to face him. In the shadowed cab, Marco looked relaxed—how did he do that?—as if coming home together after kissing like that was normal. Aiden’s mouth felt dry. He swallowed before he answered. “Paul was at Amber’s earlier. I think they went out on a date.”
Marco raised his eyebrows.
“He brought her flowers.”
The shadows in the cab couldn’t hide the sudden flash of Marco’s smile. “Tell me everything.”
“He polished his truck.”
Just a few days before, Paul had explained that his truck was a working vehicle. He didn’t see the point in driving anything fancy when all he used it for was hauling wood. Aiden’s pickup was temperamental, rusted out and weather faded, and Paul assumed that Aiden was of a similar mindset. He wasn’t to know that for Aiden, anything newer would be impossible to finance.
Paul polishing his vehicle proved he meant serious business.
Marco’s smile grew wider. “I wish I’d seen them. They suit each other so well.” He unfastened his seatbelt and slid closer along the bench seat. “It will be hard for Paul, though, after all the years he has been on his own, no? Sharing his life with someone new will take some getting used to.”
Aiden closed his eyes when Marco started to touch him, stroking his fingertips up and down Aiden’s forearm, only looking again when Marco squeezed his fingers.
“What do you think, Aiden? Is dating an easy thing to pick up after years of being solitary?”
This wasn’t exactly how Aiden had anticipated starting a conversation, but his thoughts had been muddled all the way across town. He’d wanted to get home as fast as he could to get Marco naked and in his bed. Now that he was here, he couldn’t even unfasten his own seatbelt.
“Maybe,” Marco continued, his voice low and soothing, “they will take things very slowly. Perhaps there is a lesson in taking the time to get to know each other before making rash decisions.”
“This isn’t rash.” Aiden cleared his throat. “I mean, have you changed your mind?” God, he sounded desperate. He stared down at where Marco’s hand rested on his. In the moonlight, it looked gray instead of golden.
“My mind was made up the first time I saw you, Aiden. Nothing has changed since then. But taking things slow might be a good plan, for you at least. I am in no hurry.”
The first time Aiden had seen Marco had been in Peter’s kitchen. He’d wandered around half-naked as Aiden moved his stuff into the house, phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder, cursing as Levi told him about the delivery of another incorrect shipment. He’d been in a bad mood already, made worse by discovering his new housemate looked just like his first teenage crush. Marco had been excitable, handsy, and so painful to look at. He’d tried to help Aiden with his unpacking, until he’d shut his new bedroom door firmly in Marco’s face.
“I was an asshole, Marco.” He quickly added, his voice sounding gruff, “I don’t want to go slow now.”
“You didn’t look like an asshole the first time I saw you. You looked amazing.”
Aiden didn’t think so. He’d been pissed off and grumpy at having to get out of his apartment. But it had been that or suffer Joel’s sidelong looks and relentless, probing questions. They’d gotten along somewhat better when they’d worked together to help out Peter and Sean in Oregon, and that had made Evan so obviously happy. Moving out for a while was a way to keep that smile on his brother’s face.
He traced the tendons on the back of Marco’s hand, trying not to dwell on the way that Marco hadn’t responded to his go-faster suggestion.
Maybe they didn’t want the same thing.
Marco twisted and raised himself on one knee, making an awkward move in a confined space look easy. His hands were warm on Aiden’s face, and his thumbs stroked Aiden’s cheekbones. “I first saw you in Milan last year. Theo had some photos of an office party on his laptop. All I saw were these amazing eyes, and your fierce expression.”
“You saw me last year?”
Aiden watched him wet his lips from a distance of scant inches.
“I always intended to come and work here with my brother. He sold me his share of our business, but that was only on paper—we still spoke about it daily.” Marco broke eye contact, taking a slow breath. “I wish I’d hurried. I wish we’d had more time together. Ben told me so much, but I feel like I didn’t listen. I think I missed a lot by not paying attention. He told me all about the people in his life. He described you and Evan—”
“And then you saw me on Theo’s laptop?”
Marco nodded, quickly kissing Aiden’s lips before speaking again. “Mamma encouraged me to come to Seattle. I needed to tie up the loose ends of Ben’s side of the business, and it was a chance to say good-bye properly. I’ve visited many of the places my brother spoke of, and I’ve shaken hands with the people he spent his time with. It’s . . . .” His voice sounded thick with emotion. “It’s been difficult and wonderful. Sometimes I feel as if he’s walking beside me.” He kissed Aiden again—a sudden, desperate press of lips that Aiden quickly opened up to. Marco shuffled even closer, dipping into Aiden’s mouth once, twice, before gradually retreating. “I hoped after seeing Theo’s photo of you that our paths might cross. You aren’t what I expected.”
“No?” Where had all the air gone?
“Theo said you were the older brother of one of his interns. He didn’t tell me that you watch over Evan, even though he is a grown man. Or why.” He sat down again. “I wonder if you will?”
Aiden’s instinct was to mumble a denial. Instead he pressed h
is lips tightly together as Marco continued speaking.
“No, Theo didn’t mention your devotion to your family, or how you seem to have taken on your father’s role. Or”—Marco cupped Aiden’s face and made him turn to look at him—“why your family lets you do this, as if you should wear your father’s shoes.”
The darkness wasn’t deep enough to hide Aiden closing his eyes. When he was still a kid he used to aspire to make his dad proud. He’d only later come to realize that his dad had lived a double life, leaving Aiden the only person who could step up and make things right. The mess his death had caused confused Aiden and left him angry, and he’d had to keep that anger to himself.
His voice sounded rough. “Enough about my family.” Talking about that shit now was the exact opposite of what he wanted.
Marco waited, saying nothing.
The silence stretched between them.
When Aiden looked again, Marco worried at his bottom lip, caught in a moment of indecision.
“What?” After wishing Marco would shut up for the last month at least, now Aiden couldn’t stand his silence.
“I was putting away some laundry. There were several open credit-card statements on your dresser. You’ve missed payments. More than one card, Aiden. More than once, lately.”
“Why are we talking about this? My finances are my business and no one else’s.” Aiden’s voice was suddenly loud, filling the enclosed cab.
Marco ignored his outburst. “I saw the letter about your adoption too.” He said matter-of-factly, as if nosing in his housemate’s private mail was normal. “What does Evan think?”
“What the hell does Evan have to do with it?”
