Chris didn’t have to hear any more. His heart sunk and his mouth felt dry.
Pushing himself to stand, he extended a hand. He may have fucked this interview up but he was least leaving with dignity.
“Thank you for taking the time to consider me,” Chris said. The principal didn’t take his hand. Instead he gestured for Chris to sit, which Chris did immediately. Clearly this wasn’t finished.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass who you love or how you spend your time outside the school gates. What I want from my teachers is respect. Respect for themselves, for the school, for their colleagues, and for the kids.”
“Okay…?” Now Chris was really confused.
“The kids’ll tear you to shreds if they find out you’re different—simple classroom politics. Are you strong enough to push past that and teach well enough for them to learn to love what you are teaching them?”
“I think so—”
“Think?”
“No, sir. I know so.”
“Then, Mr Matthews, the position is yours. When can you start?”
“Uhmmm…?” Coherent. Not.
“Could you start next Monday?”
Monday? As in a week? Seven. Freaking. Days.
“Monday? Yes, sir, I can do Monday.”
Jeez, holy shit on a stick. Seven days.
* * * *
Daniel’s desk had balloons. Okay, what his desk actually had was blown-up condoms held together with plastic ties. He guessed people were pleased he was back.
He placed the muffin box on the desk and slid into his chair. There was still an ache in his thigh but it would only get better the more he exercised it.
“Welcome back, Bailey.” Alex perched himself on the corner of his desk. It didn’t matter it was actually Alex that had picked him up and driven him in, he was still making the point of marking Daniel’s return. He helped himself to a muffin. “Thank God you're back,” he said. The muffin made it sound more like a random jumble of nothing, but Daniel got the point.
“Good to be back,” he said. A couple of other cops came over and clapped him on the shoulder and he nodded up at them to acknowledge the quiet hello.
“Emma made you this.” Alex passed him a sheet full of scribbles. A house with “POLICE” written across it and then him and what he imagined was Alex stood next to him. Emma, from her perspective, had drawn Daniel way tall and Alex way short.
Daniel stored the information away for further teasing. “She said she wants you to put it on your desk.” Daniel did that. Leaning forward, he pinned it up in his small space and then sat back to admire it amongst so many others she had done for him.
“Tell her thank you.”
“Tell her yourself. Kathy has this whole last dinner planned before she has the baby. This Saturday, you and Chris, no excuses.”
“We’ll be there. Now, what’s on the books?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing for you. You’re desking it for at least a week, and I’ve been volunteered to stay in here with you. We, my boy, have archiving to do.”
“Shit,” Daniel said grumpily. “I don’t know what’s worse, that or getting shot.”
Alex chuckled and then stole another muffin.
“Believe me, Bailey, archiving is the devil’s work. We also have this guy coming in to talk to us about community liaison work with shelters. See you at the coffee pot in ten.”
Daniel extended his legs under his desk with only a small wince of discomfort. He could handle archiving, it was just good to be back here where he made a difference.
Liaison work with shelters sounded interesting, just what he liked to do. He was like every other cop—wanting to be part of the community. Archiving sounded less exciting but hell, when he was finished he was going home to Chris.
Perfect.
Chapter 19
Sunday, January 30th
Chris found he enjoyed cooking in Daniel’s state-of-the-art kitchen. There were every conceivable appliance and fully stocked cupboards. In a way, Daniel had everything that Chris didn’t. From an actual apartment to a working coffee machine, he was a settled man. Of course, Chris had been heading that way before Whitman and Sacred Heart happened. A year off and his savings sat at zero. If he hadn’t met Daniel then there would have been no chance of being able to move out of the small room over the coffee shop any time soon.
He loved it here in Daniel’s apartment. It felt warm and inviting, and he had put some of his own pictures up alongside Daniel’s. They’d been out and bought a bigger bed and Chris had even won the fight about paying for half of it. Of course, his half was being paid back out of some nebulous future earnings but at least Daniel knew Chris meant to pay.
“I met up with Jason again today,” Daniel started conversationally over preparations for dinner.
“Jason?” he asked. He couldn’t remember a colleague of Daniel’s named Jason.
“Remember? He’s the guy I mentioned last weekend, the one that runs the shelter.
He comes in and works with us on community outreach.”
“Oh yeah, the ex-Army guy?”
“I hope you don’t mind but I asked him over for dinner on Saturday. He has some ideas on how the police can assist in the homeless issues downtown, but I sense some of his ideas are a little controversial for the establishment so I thought privacy would be good.”
Chris looked at his boyfriend and narrowed his eyes. “Why are you asking if it’s okay?” He turned to the fridge to find the buttermilk—biscuits weren’t going to make themselves. “It’s your apartment,” he finished on a mumble. Daniel didn’t say anything in return and a familiar ache clutched at Chris’s chest. A teacher’s pay was never going to be enough to be part of Daniel’s life for the long haul. Daniel had jeans in his closet that were probably worth what Chris got paid in a week. Before he could lose himself in too much self-pity Daniel was next to him, and with firm insistence he took the buttermilk from Chris and placed it back in the fridge before shutting the door. He guided Chris until he had him standing with his back to the fridge.
“Chris…?” Daniel only said one thing—his name—but it dripped with question.
Using a single finger, he tipped Chris’s chin until Chris could do nothing but look into Daniel’s beautiful eyes.
“What?” Chris answered helpfully.
“It’s our apartment.” Daniel emphasized the ‘our’.
“Okay.” Chris managed the single word. What else did Daniel want him to say?
“Chris,” Daniel said. Chris winced. Okay. So the tone of that was a little less questioning and a little more accusing.
“It’s… I have this…” He wasn’t entirely sure how he should word this without the conversation turning into an argument. Daniel hated it when Chris was down on himself but money was, and always would be, a contentious issue.
Daniel continued, “Jason is a friend and I think you would like him too. Do you have a problem with me bringing a friend home? I don’t have to if it’s a problem. We can meet at the precinct. He has a girlfriend, I promise.”
“No,” Chris interrupted. “I want to meet him. I’d like to think we could maybe both do some work at the shelter. I’ve even had thoughts of helping with some tutoring or something. It isn’t that.”
Daniel cupped Chris’s face and stole a soft kiss. He had this way of making Chris melt—a combination of firm and careful and oh so attentive.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s stupid.”
“Talk to me.”
“I want to pay rent,” Chris blurted out. There. He’d said it. The words were out there. Daniel stepped back with a look of astonishment on his face.
“Do you know how much this place costs?” Daniel laughed.
“Fuck you.” Temper shot through Chris faster that light.
Daniel’s expression changed as soon as he realized what he had said. “Shit, I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I just meant to say… Chris…”
Chris cou
ldn’t listen to any more, and in a move that would make a linebacker proud, he pushed Daniel out of the way and stalked into the bedroom. He pushed the door shut behind him then sat with his back to the door. He knew he was being childish but what Daniel had just said was exactly what he had been expecting to hear. He hated being right. The feeling that he was less than Daniel destroyed him. It was Whitman all over again.
“Chris, can I come in?” Daniel said outside the door.
“Go away.” Jeez, he really did sound like a kid. But there was no way he was talking to Daniel until he got a hold on his emotions.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. That wasn’t what I meant. I meant to say… shit… look, let me in?” Daniel pushed the handle from outside but he didn’t try again when he evidently realized Chris was blocking the door. Chris felt the door move a little, indicating Daniel had sat down on the floor on the other side of it.
“I know how much it costs to live here, Daniel, I’m not stupid,” Chris said. “I’m living here and I’m done feeling like I’m less than what I should be around people with money. I feel like a freaking kept man with you paying for all of this.”
“I don’t even pay for it anymore,” Daniel said. “It’s paid for already.”
“Paid for.” Chris bowed his head. He had known that was probably the case but still…
“I’m sorry, I can’t help that. It’s my way of investing my inheritance. It’s my future. Our future. It’s our home. But if it makes you feel any better, at this very moment I’m sorry I have it.”
Chris waited a few seconds before asking the inevitable. “Why?”
“I’m sorry I have the apartment and money. I don’t want it if it means you are unhappy or that you leave.” He paused and Chris didn’t have the words to answer his boyfriend. “I know it causes tension; I’m not stupid. You think you only matter if you pay your way. I get that. I get that the private-school-entitled fucked you over. I know that Whitman-whatever was a dick that made you think you were less than him just because he had a hyphen in his surname. I get all that. I understand.” Again a pause.
“Will you open the door, Chris? I’m so sorry.”
Chris didn’t generally hold on to anger—especially with the man he loved. He shuffled away from the door and allowed it to open. Daniel immediately moved so his body stopped the door from shutting fully again. Then they sat, both cross-legged on the floor in a weird kind of face-off. Daniel’s expressive hazel eyes were filled with worry.
“Fuck, Chris. I’m sorry,” Daniel repeated. “What do you want me to do? I love you; tell me what can I do to apologize?”
“Nothing,” Chris finally offered. “You can’t do anything.” He didn’t mean to sound so sad but even he could hear his voice was fucking miserable. “It should be me apologizing for being so stupid. I knew you were rich when I met you in college and you’re still loaded now. I can see all the rational side to this.”
“Look.” Daniel shuffled closer until their knees touched. Daniel winced as he moved and Chris felt even more guilty that he was throwing a fit while his lover’s injury was still bothering him. Daniel grasped Chris’s hands tightly. “Money means nothing. You know how much I love you.”
“I love you too,” Chris replied quickly.
“Thing is, I want to come home to you and sleep in the same bed every time I can with you. I want to share the cooking, and I want you to help me paint the office. I will do anything to get us settled. Donate all my money to charity. Move back to the coffee shop.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Chris snapped. “Making huge gestures like that doesn’t prove anything. It’s not you with the problem. It’s me.”
“How about we stay here then. Decorate, cook, love, and you can pay me whatever rent you want and we’ll put it in a trust fund for our kids.”
“Kids?” Chris choked. Kids sounded kind of permanent.
“Chris—I want forever with you.” Emotion choked in Chris’s throat as he heard Daniel’s soft words. “One day, you know, I thought we could make a family—not here, maybe in the country somewhere outside the City? Adopt, surrogacy, we could do that, and even get a dog and a cat. I want all of that with you. I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day.” Daniel had passion in his eyes and Chris couldn’t have trusted or loved a man more.
“You know I feel the same way,” Chris said.
“I do. You love me the best way anyone could love me. I guess… what I’m trying to say… I want all of this to be half yours… to belong to you for real. I love you so much and I can’t imagine life without you.” He dropped his gaze and inhaled. Chris watched his lover’s chest move as the breath was released.
“Daniel?” Chris hoped he hadn’t fucked this up. Daniel’s expression was heavy with emotion.
“Christian, I do love you. You know that right? Will you marry me?”
Daniel sat absolutely still and waited. Wait, Chris thought, how had him losing his temper led to a freaking marriage proposal?
“You don’t need to do that,” Chris said immediately. His first instinct was to defuse the tension of something unspoken between them. “I’m not leaving. I’m sorry about before. It's gonna be some time before I clear my head of everything that happened with Whit. Seriously you don't need to feel pushed into anything grand like that.”
Daniel frowned at the reply, and then levering himself to stand, he disappeared out of the room. Chris could hear him going to the small safe that he had in the office, heard the familiar clang of metal and the beeps. In less than a minute he was back with a small box in his hand. That less than a minute time had Chris reeling with shock, dismay, resentment, and then hope. Was that a ring in the box?
Daniel leaned on the door and kneeled in front of Chris. He held out the box and then opened it to show two identical platinum rings.
“I wanted to wait for the right time to do this.”
“I’m sorry,” Chris choked. He had fucked up everything.
“Don’t you see?” Daniel said. “This is exactly the right time.” He moved to take out one of the rings and reached for Chris’s left hand. “I love you, Christian Matthews. I can’t imagine a life without you and I curse every day that I wasted until I found you again. Will you marry me?”
Shakily Chris unfurled his fist and offered his ring finger, watching with a hushed breath as Daniel slid the ring on there.
For a second or two he looked down at the simple band and then carefully he pried the other ring from its resting place. Taking hold of Daniel’s hand, he slipped the ring onto his new fiancé’s finger.
“Yes. I will.” He spoke softly.
“And we’ll make this work,” Daniel said. He caressed Chris’s face and then leaned in for a kiss. A simple kiss to seal the deal. A deal that began at Christmas and was strengthened with love and need and a future so filled with possibilities that Chris’s emotions clogged his throat.
Stealing another kiss to hide his inability to form a coherent sentence, Chris finally pulled back.
“I love you, Daniel.”
Daniel smiled and his hazel eyes brightened. “I love you, Chris.”
“You realize Ame will want to do the cake?”
They kissed and Daniel chuckled.
“The first muffin cake in the city of New York.”
THE END
About the Author
RJ Scott lives just outside London. She has been writing since age six, when she was made to stay in at lunchtime for an infraction involving cookies and was told to write a story. Two sides of A4 about a trapped princess later, a lover of writing was born. She loves reading anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror; however, her first real love will always be the world of romance. Her goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and more than a hint of happily ever after.
Email: [email protected]
Webpage: www.rjscott.co.uk
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/autho
r.rjscott Twitter: rjscott_author
Yahoo: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/rjscott/
Also by RJ Scott
Available at Total E-Bound:
Moments (coming soon)
ELLERY MOUNTAIN
The Fireman and the Cop (coming January 2013) The Schoolteacher and the Soldier (coming March 2013)
Available at Love Lane Books:
The Christmas Throwaway
Love Is In The Hallways (Young Adult)
Love Is In The Title (Young Adult)
Love is in the Message (Young Adult)
The Decisions We Make (Young Adult)
New York Christmas
SAPPHIRE CAY STORIES with Meredith Russell
Follow the Sun
Under the Sun (coming soon)
BODYGUARDS INC.
PA to a Sex God (coming January 2013)
Bodyguard to a Prince (coming soon)
SANCTUARY
Guarding Morgan
The Only Easy Day
Face Value
Still Waters
Full Circle
The Journal of Sanctuary One
Available at eXstasy Books:
SUPERNATURAL BOUNTY HUNTERS
The Vampire Contract (coming February 2013) The Guilty Werewolf (coming March 2013)
The Warlock's Secret (coming April 2013)
Available at Silver Publishing:
“Valentine 2525” in Never Say Never
All the King’s Men
Back Home
Deefur Dog
Jesse’s Christmas
The Gallows Tree
The Art of Words with Meredith Russell A Better Man with Jaime Reese
“Child of the Storm” in Hearts of England
ORACLE
New York Christmas Page 11
