“Do you? They’re as old as me. My mam brought them with us from Ireland.”
“They’re beautiful.”
Though Patrick was turned away from him, he could feel Aidan’s eyes on him. There was a crackle of something in the air. Excitement? Anticipation? He spun on the spot and drank in the mile-wide smile.
“Beautiful just like you,” Aidan said.
Patrick blushed. “No one ever called be that before.”
“I guess I should’ve said handsome. Or sexy.” Aidan moved closer and ran his free hand over Patrick’s chest and stomach, making him blush even deeper, with desire rather than embarrassment. Aidan laughed at his reaction. “So handsome, but your freckles—they’re too cute to be handsome, especially on your nose…” Aidan studied them for a moment. “And your eyes—they’re like the most beautiful emeralds.”
Locked in Aidan’s gaze, Patrick felt everything around them fall away—all the worry about the accident, about what the future held—all of it just popped out of existence. Aidan is here. He is safe.
“What’s next?” Aidan asked.
Patrick grinned. “Question tree?”
Aidan waited.
“Will you move in with me, Aidan Degas. Will you share my life?”
“Yes,” Aidan said. “Yes, yes, yes.” He shivered and laughed at the same time. Patrick dropped the end of the string of instruments and pulled Aidan to him in the tightest hug he dared.
“My God, I love you. All I want is to make you happy. We can live wherever suits you. Here. The Grand Heights. I don’t feckin’ care, because you just made me the happiest man alive.”
“Nah,” Aidan said. “That’d be me.”
“I’ll fight yer for it, just as soon as—”
Aidan’s kisses stopped Patrick mid-sentence, but it no longer mattered; nor did the half-decorated tree. It was almost three weeks since they’d last made love, and they needed to go gently, but beyond that Patrick’s thoughts were overwhelmed by sensation. Aidan’s fingers touched bare skin, tickling lightly, sparking eruptions of pleasure all over his body as his shirt was pushed up and over his head. Then Aidan stepped away and Patrick watched him undress—slow, erotic, unashamed of his naked arousal. Patrick could only stare in wonder. Aidan laughed at him.
“Quit drooling and take off your pants.”
Patrick lifted his hands in surrender. “You want them off…”
Aidan moved in, pressing his body to Patrick’s and kissing him hungrily, sucking and biting at his lip as he ground his naked erection against Patrick’s jeans.
“Take them off, Paddy,” Aidan pleaded. Patrick smiled, but the jeans stayed. With his hands on Aidan’s ass cheeks, he pushed into the grinding action. Aidan gasped desperately. “No, don’t. I…I’m…Paddy, please!” Patrick quickly released him and felt the surge of relief, which was perfect. Without warning, he dropped to his knees and sucked Aidan’s cock, taking all of him into his mouth and gripping his thighs so he couldn’t pull away, until Aidan lost himself to the power of the orgasm that shot through him, clutching at Patrick’s hair and filling his mouth with bitter-sweet heat.
When Aidan finally stopped thrusting, Patrick rose to his feet, glad to have quelled his boyfriend’s lust, and was rewarded with a deep, slow kiss. Aidan walked backwards, taking Patrick with him, pulling him down onto the sofa, all without breaking the kiss. Patrick let his lips trail down Aidan’s chin to his neck.
“Take me again,” Aidan whispered hoarsely. Patrick lifted and looked down on Aidan’s enduring erection. He relented. He got up and took off his jeans, then returned to his previous position, pulling the comforter over them both. He made love to Aidan, slowly, gently, romantically, relishing every stroke, every thrust, every touch. They kissed until their lips were numb, and when Patrick could fight no more, Aidan groaned into his mouth…dirty talk…Patrick came so hard he forgot to breathe and was left panting for breath, aware only that Aidan had spilled his seed too and that the warm slick on their bellies would soon be as cool as the cocoa they had abandoned.
<<< >>>
Just as the tree decorating had taken most of a day, so too did the making of gingerbread men, and the wrapping of gifts. On December twenty-second and twenty-third, Patrick had to work and left Aidan in the apartment with strict instructions to rest up. On both days, he returned to a home-cooked dinner; Aidan sidetracked his complaints with more love-making.
On December twenty-fourth, they went to The Grand Heights to drop off a gift for Jill, expecting her to be on the reception desk. Instead they were greeted by Aidan’s temporary replacement.
“Harrison?”
Jill’s twin gave Aidan a warm smile. “Hey, Aidan. How are things?”
“Good, thanks. Couldn’t Jill find anyone to cover for me?”
“I offered. You were right. She ruined my life for too long.”
“But…Jill said you were blacklisted. Mr. Francis fired you.”
Harrison grinned. “I’m on the whitelist again and I’m kicking back. You shoulda seen her face when she walked in on my first day.”
“She hasn’t threatened you?”
“Oh, she tried, all right. And yeah, I was scared, but not anymore.”
“Good for you, Harrison,” Patrick said.
“Thanks. So, I’m guessing you’re looking for Jill? She’s at Lily’s.”
Aidan’s mouth dropped open. “My Lily’s?”
“Yeah. She stayed the n—oh!” Harrison stopped, but he’d already said too much.
Chapter Thirty-Three:
Seeing the Girls Happy
“Are you all right?” Patrick asked cautiously. They were on their way over to Lily’s place for dinner: only their second visit since Harrison’s bombshell, the first on New Year’s Eve—over two months ago.
Aidan glanced over at him. He realized suddenly that his knuckles were turning white on the steering wheel, and eased his grip a bit. Aidan didn’t like that he was making the love of his life tread on eggshells, though he understood why. In their brief, but wonderful, time together, Patrick Williams had been witness to Aidan’s few ups, his many, many downs, and a whole bushel of crazy.
And yet, he’s stayed… This put a brief smile on Aidan’s lips.
He wondered what Patrick might be waiting for as they drove through the growing night toward his sister-in-law’s home. A tantrum? An explosion? A waterfall of tears? He took in a deep breath, and as he let it out, he counted four beats. No tantrum, no explosion, no waterfall.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Because I can hear your teeth grinding.”
He opened his mouth and wiggled his jaw loose. It was true that every part of his body was tense, from his shoulder muscles to the soles of his feet. There was a big, cowardly part of him that wanted to turn the car around and head back to the apartment he’d moved into above Max Fitness. Ask Patrick for a massage. Take a hot bath. Make love…
But they had agreed they would go over, right? Turning away meant running from responsibility. But then again maybe it also meant self-preservation and protecting his loved ones.
Patrick laid his large, warm palm on Aidan’s shoulder. “It’s okay not to be okay. You know that, don’t you?”
Slowly, Aidan nodded. He was learning the truth of that, even though he’d never been okay not being okay before. Usually, instead of mourning and moving on, or being angry and moving on, or being hurt and moving on, Aidan felt each of those emotions, and then his guilt over feeling them became a force multiplier.
“Say it again?”
“It is okay to not be okay. And we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“Please don’t say that, Paddy,” Aidan begged with a weak smile. It would be too tempting if Patrick didn’t hold firm. “Don’t let me off. Make me do this.”
“Darlin’, you’ve got your hands on the steerin’ wheel. I’m not in much of a position to make you do anything. But if you want me to be stern, I suppose I can.”
“Yes.”
“All right, here goes. Aidan Degas, you’ve been avoiding your sister-in-law for weeks. She’s the only family you’ve got left. You’re going to this dinner. All right?” And then, squeezing Aidan’s shoulder, he made Aidan melt by asking, “I wasn’t too stern, was I?”
Patrick was right. Lily was the only family he had left, and despite all the ways he was changing and all the ways she was changing, she was still his lifeline to Nadia. It was an odd balancing act for Aidan: learning to let go of Nadia without losing Nadia. He’d been trying to convince himself of that for the last few weeks, reminding himself that even if Lily was…seeing someone else…it didn’t erase the memories of what she’d shared with his sister.
He hoped.
God, he hoped.
They ended up at Lily’s house at a quarter past eight and the first thing Aidan noticed when he pulled in was Jill’s car in the driveway.
He took a deep breath. After Harrison’s little slip that his sister was sleeping with Lily, Aidan and Jill had danced around each other during their shifts at The Grand Heights. They hadn’t spoken about it directly, though they’d come close to passively discussing it once. The problem was, he couldn’t think how to even start the conversation. Nothing seemed right. So, you’re dating Lily…? was too casual and What are your intentions toward my sister-in-law? was far too intense.
Aidan was so wrapped up in his own head that he almost missed Patrick’s outstretched arms. Luckily, the Irishman wasn’t going to let him get away so easily and he caught Aidan, pulling him back into a warm, giving hug. The chill of mid-February melted away in Patrick’s strong arms and Aidan couldn’t help but snuggle in.
“It’s all right,” Patrick murmured comfortingly into his ear.
“I’m not unhappy for them,” he promised. “Conceptually.”
“I know.”
“Jill deserves someone amazing in her life and…Lily loves wholeheartedly, so…so…”
So Lily should continue to love Nadia with her whole heart and stay true to her even through death. Right? Except, didn’t the vow they shared say until death do us part? And Nadia was dead. Death had parted his sister and her wife. Death had parted him and his sister.
Had Lily taken off the simple silver band that adorned her finger for the last three years? Maybe not. And which was worse: wearing it when she was with Jill or taking it off and forsaking Nadia?
But Nadia had smiled at him in the Fun Boy dream. You don’t need my forgiveness, Aidan. Didn’t Lily need Nadia’s forgiveness? Or was Nadia smiling on her too? God, he was so confused.
“Why don’t we come up with a code?” Patrick suggested. “Something you can say when you want to get the hell out of there. If it gets too much, we’ll run together.”
“A code?” Aidan asked, amazed at the way Patrick’s voice could so easily draw him out of the swirling depths. “Like…caw-caw!” He did his best bird impression and Patrick snorted with laughter. Aidan had to fight his own smile.
“Yes, my love, just like that. Very subtle.” He felt Patrick drop a tender kiss on the top of his head. “Or maybe just, ‘Paddy, what was that thing you meant to tell Lily?’”
“Do you have something you’re going to tell her?”
“Not really.”
“Then won’t that be even more suspicious?”
“Not if I play dumb.” He pulled back, ever so slightly, and tilted Aidan’s chin up. Then, tenderly, he placed a kiss against his lips. “I can play dumb.”
“And I can be brave,” Aidan said uncertainly. “So no need for a signal. We’ll have a good night.”
<<< >>>
Jill was sitting on the sofa when they walked through the front door. For a moment, she and Aidan just stared at each other, and then they both smiled, a little nervously. She raised her glass of wine to them and said, “Good to see you, guys.”
She didn’t seem so imposing with her silky blonde hair loose around her shoulders and her feet bare. This was off-hours Jill. They’d socialized a little outside of the work setting, but he’d never seen her looking quite so relaxed, like someone had taken all her troubles away.
Lily had stepped back to allow Patrick and Aidan entry, but once she’d closed the door, she began to talk, rapidly, smoothing her hands repeatedly on her pants. “We’re really glad you’re here. Well, I am. I mean, I’m sure Jill is, too, but—”
Patrick cut her off by pulling her into a bear hug and whispering something into her ear that Aidan figured was about him. He looked at Jill, who’d stood.
“Lil’.” Jill’s tone was light, but Lily looked over at her as if she’d just shouted. “You don’t have to be so nervous. It’s okay.”
Lily smiled gratefully and nodded her head, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She was blushing. His tough-as-nails sister-in-law was blushing. “I know, it’s just…um…this new recipe I tried tonight. I really want it to be a success.”
Yes, just a new recipe. That was definitely easier to say. They weren’t all dancing around the fifth person in the room: the ghost of Aidan’s twin that lingered. They were old friends meeting for dinner. And Lily was fretting over the food.
“Can I get you some wine?” Jill asked and Aidan nodded. “Anyone else want one?” To which Patrick said he’d take a glass, but he’d help her out in the kitchen.
“Aidan,” Lily said, moving closer to him across the living room. For a moment, she hesitated to touch him—as if she were afraid he would push her away. “I’m really glad you finally called me back.”
He looked into Lily’s eyes then, really looked, and asked quietly, “Are you happy?”
Her dark eyebrows came together and her lips turned up at the corners. It was a very soft look that took away some of the heavy worry on her face. “She makes me smile, Aidan.”
God, she melted his heart. If he’d had any argument to make about Lily and Jill being together, it was obliterated by those words.
“You took off your ring,” he said quietly and she immediately covered her left hand with her right and squeezed the two together.
“It was almost as hard as burying my girls. But…it was time.”
Aidan stepped closer to her, a little awkwardly. They’d never been touchy-feely with each other, but he’d just watched Patrick scoop Lily into the hug. He’d made it seem easy. Aidan put his arms around her and hugged her. For a moment she was stiff in his arms, and then she began to relax. She reached around and hugged him back.
“Are you mad at me, Aidan?” Her voice was muffled against him.
“No.”
Saying it, feeling it, believing it was such a relief to Aidan. He’d stayed away because he’d been afraid he would be mad. So mad, in fact, he wouldn’t have been able to face her without yelling at her or crying. But maybe Aidan was changing as Lily was? Because even though it hurt that she’d taken off her wedding ring…it hurt less than if she’d have left it on and missed out on the way Jill made her smile.
When they broke their hug, he found it was Lily crying.
“Do you think she’s mad at me, Aidan?”
“I know she’s not,” he replied honestly. “Let’s sit down. I need to tell you about a dream I had when I was in the hospital.”
Chapter Thirty-Four:
Baking It
Aidan’s words drifted through to the silent kitchen where Patrick and Jill had previously been engaged in small talk. It had been a pleasant enough conversation, and Aidan had already told Patrick about his “dream,” so it wasn’t a secret as such, but both he and Jill understood Lily and Aidan’s need for some privacy and respected it. However, the wine had run out, and Jill had gone to fetch another bottle, hence Patrick was on his own and he could hear everything.
“…he’s funny, and sweet, and he makes me so happy, Lily. And I know Na-Na would want that…”
Patrick didn’t catch any more than that. His joy took over and he caught his reflection in the darkened window: he was grinning like an eejit. He
laughed at himself and leaned against the counter, shivering with…joy, he supposed. Aidan had just confirmed that they felt exactly the same about each other.
“Yep, Paddy,” he said to his own reflection, “looks like you found yer man.”
He was still holding his empty wine glass, the bowl resting like a brandy balloon in his palm, and Jill had been gone a while, but he didn’t know where Lily kept the wine so he couldn’t even go and see if Jill needed a hand. Instead, he gave the food a stir, then returned to leaning on the counter, looking around him and taking in the feel of the place. It was different now from the last time he’d been there, when he had fixed up the window Aidan had broken. Knowing his boyfriend as he did now, Patrick was quite sure Aidan would have done just as grand a job of boarding the window, but back then he was a different man. Back then, the only thing that defined Aidan Degas was his sister’s absence from his life—a half-life that had been rapidly becoming even less.
It would be arrogant to imagine that he, Patrick Ryan Williams, had saved Aidan, even though Aidan had used that very phrase himself at least a half-dozen times in the three months since Patrick had fished his flaccid, lifeless body from the ice-cold river. When Patrick properly thought about it, though he tried his very hardest not to, the pain and the sense of loss was as overwhelming as if it had happened only yesterday. In other ways it felt like an age had passed—Aidan had moved in with him; he was physically recovered and each day a little more joy and humor warmed his memories of his sister.
So no: Patrick hadn’t saved Aidan. He’d thrown him a lifeline, but it was Aidan’s will to survive that had brought him this far, endowed him with the strength to take another chance on life, and on love.
Jill returned with a bottle of Chardonnay. She raised her eyebrows—an unspoken question—Are Lily and Aidan okay? Patrick nodded to confirm that they were and watched Jill set about removing the cork from the bottle, which was fighting her all the way. He was of two minds whether he should offer assistance, particularly since Jill reminded him in no small way of Max, and he knew exactly what Max would have to say. I’m not one of your wee weak girlies, Paddy Williams, which was true; Max was almost as tall and broad as Patrick himself, and she was as fit as a fiddle.
Seeds of Tyrone Box Set Page 21
