Best Laid Plaids (Kilty Pleasures)

by Ella Stainton

  But once inside, his brother thumped him on the shoulder and proclaimed his pleasure that Ainsley was there with enough sincerity that some of the tension loosened. He was introduced around to the room full of bland academics who looked as unlively as any faculty meeting Ainsley had ever attended.

  No Cockburn, just as Stuart had implied when he’d nosed about trying to figure out without actually asking.

  It was a bit of a crush to his heart. He’d not dared to hope—not consciously. But his spirits sagged nonetheless, and he excused himself to take his luggage up to his room, which he was to share with one of these men, as the house was overfull.

  A bag was already laid out. Comb and hair cream sat on the bureau and a broad-shouldered evening jacket hung over the mirror.

  Joachim wouldn’t have the nerve to show his face. Of course he wouldn’t. Ainsley sagged in the chair and traced the pattern in the carpet with the toe of his wingtip.

  You’re going to get yourself off and I’m going to watch. And if I feel like it, I might involve myself. Or I may sit back and drink my whiskey.

  Bollocks. He wasn’t going to mope up here and think about that man.

  He slammed the door a wee bit too hard and was poised to return to the party. But a voice came from Charlie’s room.

  Would Charlie speak to him if he went in, or would he disappear like he had from the woods? He crept closer and put his ear to the door.

  It was Barley. “You’ve got the Fool and the Page of Pentacles together, meaning a new path of study that’s going to bring you success.”

  A chuckle. Rich and baritone and painfully familiar. “After all I learned from Ainsley, I do believe this new path will bring me much success.” Mooch.

  Bloody traitorous Cockburn in his house, bragging that Ainsley’s ruin would be the making of him. He threw the door open to give the bastard what for, and would have.

  Except he was face-to-face with Charlie.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Joachim

  Never had a fit of temper been so glorious. Ainsley Graham, flushed skin with eyes glittering agitatedly, hands on his hips, ready to pounce.

  But then that beautiful wide mouth uncurled from its sneer and fell open. His face went slack. He’s going to faint. Joachim sprang from the bed to catch him, but Ainsley moved past him, steady.

  “Charlie?”

  The uncertainty in his voice nearly broke Joachim.

  “Have you finally come to forgive me?” Charlie looked young and even more unsettled than his ginger, if such a thing were possible. Joachim sat back down on the bed, slithering to the side because he’d inadvertently sat on Barley’s tarot cards. Alec gathered them into his purple velvet sack.

  “F-f-forgive you? It’s my fault that you died.” Ainsley slid to his knees, head bowed. “If I hadn’t been such a brat...”

  It was too much to bear, and Joachim would have gone and pulled him back to his feet, taken him in his arms and soothed him as best as he could, if Barley hadn’t found some preternatural strength to keep Joachim where he was.

  Ainsley’s chin wobbled. Joachim shouldn’t be here, witnessing this. Ainsley would never forgive him, yet leaving would interrupt something too precious. Joachim held his breath, as did Barley. No one noticed when the clairvoyant whispered, “I’ll let myself out,” as he pulled the door shut.

  Instead, it was Charlie who helped his brother stand. He gripped his shoulders tight, their foreheads almost touching. Charlie looked directly into Ainsley’s eyes. “You didn’t start the bloody war, Ainsley. And you didn’t make me want to enlist. I would have gone anyway, think about it. I turned nineteen and...it was an adventure.”

  Bewilderment crossed Ainsley’s face. “An adventure? But you did it because I won the bet.”

  “No, I’d have gone anyway.” The elder Graham brother grinned and tousled Ainsley’s hair. “I was terrified, but more excited than that. And to be honest, for the most part, I had the time of my life. Wouldn’t you agree, Cockburn?”

  Charlie looked to Joachim, who exhaled. Twitched his head in a way that could be counted as agreement, though the years in between had stolen the memories of any of the thrill he’d had. But his time at the front had made him a man. And he’d not give up the experience of camaraderie, even given the chance to change the past.

  “You don’t...hate me?” Ainsley searched his brother’s face.

  Charlie shook Ainsley hard enough to make his teeth rattle. “Don’t be daft. I couldn’t hate you. Not ever.”

  “But you died because I pretended to see a ghost in the close. You’d have won the bet otherwise. And stayed home with me.”

  “You’re not paying attention to me. I’m telling you, I would have gone regardless. I’d been hanging about the recruitment office, waiting for my birthday. I thought it was a lark, teasing you into thinking it was because of a stupid bet.” Charlie Graham sobered and shrugged like he couldn’t believe how things had gotten out of hand. “I’d never have left things the way I did had I known you’d have blamed yourself, Ainsley. I never meant to hurt you. You’re a part of me, like I’m a part of you.”

  Ainsley’s gray eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “And you’ll always be a part of me.”

  “I will, and that’s a promise.” Forever nineteen-year-old Charlie grinned again like the scamp he’d probably been in life. “But now I can go and find some peace. It took you long enough to come to say good-bye.”

  “You’ve been waiting? For me?”

  “Eleven bloody years, mate. Do you know how bored I am with this bleeding stack of books?” Charlie laughed and after a moment, so did Ainsley.

  “Tell us good-bye, darling, and we’ll leave you to live your life.” Maisie appeared from the corner. Had she been there the entire time? She took Ainsley’s hands in hers and brought them to her cheeks.

  “Good-bye? You too, Mama?”

  She nodded and ran her small finger where one of the tears broke free and ran down Ainsley’s cheek. “Your lovely Mr. Cockburn is back like we thought, and he can take it from here, can’t you, dear?”

  All three looked at Joachim, who was unable to speak.

  “But Cockburn’s ruining my life,” said Ainsley so faintly that Joachim might have imagined it.

  It gave him the impetus to use his voice. “I’d never do that, Dr. Graham. I’ve changed my dissertation thesis. It’ll take me another year of research, but I’ve gotten a position at the teaching hospital attached to the university here.”

  “You’ve done what?” Ainsley frowned like Joachim had spoken in Romanian.

  He grinned and stepped to the cluster of redheads, taking Ainsley’s hand in his. “I’m doing my dissertation on fidgeting minds like yours, and how to help pacify them. I’ll still be Dr. Cockburn someday, but not yet.”

  Ainsley shook his head in disbelief. “Why?”

  “Because I love you, my dear madman. And I’m more sorry than I can say that I ever believed I could write a paper that would proclaim you’re not sane. You aren’t. You’re brilliant and outrageous and the most fascinating man I’ve ever met.”

  His ginger peered into his eyes, his body relaxing a fraction. “But you think I need to be healed?”

  Joachim shook his head like it might fall off. “Not at all. You and I—well, we’re not exactly like everyone else, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with us. We only need a little more support from the outside.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.” Ainsley half turned, his voice bitter.

  “There’s nothing wrong with either of us.” Joachim stroked Ainsley’s cheek, and this time, his ginger didn’t pull away.

  “But I need you to sing and snap me back to attention.”

  “And I need you to laugh and joke and remind me how good it is to be alive.”

  The understanding
in Ainsley’s face was precious. Too sentimental not to move close enough that he could sling his arms around his ginger’s waist.

  “Besides, Elin told me if I didn’t take the position in Edinburgh and mend things with you, she’d kill me in my sleep.” He brought Ainsley’s palm to his lips and kissed it. “Will you share my life with me, Dr. Graham?”

  This was the moment he’d know if he pressed too hard, or too quickly. A tornado of abject dread swirled around him.

  But Ainsley didn’t recoil. He threw his arms around Joachim’s neck, nodding his head like it might snap off. “I will. I love you too, you bastard.”

  He sobbed for an undetermined length of time until Joachim raised his handsome face and kissed away his tears. “Tut, tut, Dr. Graham. I told you my mam’d have your balls for speaking such lies. And you never know, she might decide she’s ready to move in and haunt us for a while.”

  “You don’t want that, Ainsley, dearest. Ghosts running amok would drive you batty.” Maisie hugged the two of them, and Charlie came around the other side and did the same.

  “I’m completely sane, Mama,” insisted Ainsley, though he squeezed them all tighter.

  It took a lot not to snort. And Joachim didn’t have that sort of restraint.

  Ainsley glowered but a smile played on his lips. “Perhaps not unequivocally rational. I did fall for a brute who came to Scotland to mess me about.”

  He pressed his lips to Ainsley’s neck and growled. “Oh, I did come to Scotland to mess you about, love. No question about that.”

  Behind them, someone cleared their throat, and both men stepped back.

  “Ainsley, I er...wish to beg your pardon, too.” Robert Graham still wore his dressing gown. He cut his eyes to Joachim in some sort of acknowledgment.

  “Father? You chose right now to show yourself for the first time?” Sparks flew from Ainsley’s gray eyes, but Joachim gripped his hand tighter.

  Mr. Graham was downcast. “I wasn’t sure you’d accept my apology, but I’ve been waiting to make one, too.”

  Thrusting out a hip, Ainsley sneered. “I’m in the middle of the most romantic moment of my life, so get on with it.”

  “Sorry for the timing, but your mother won’t speak to me again until I mend fences.”

  Father and son lifted their chins in mirror images of one another. Scowled.

  “Fine. Accepted. Enjoy the rest of your death.” Ainsley wiggled his fingers for the man to be off.

  Robert Graham turned away, and then had a final message. “Tell Trixie I apologize too, won’t you? And go and look after my grandson. He’s sitting on the front walk vomiting up a pound’s worth of sweets.” He disappeared like the rest of them.

  Joachim’s shoulders slumped. “I suppose we ought to check on the lad?”

  “Lord no. There’s a room full of chemists down there. Someone will know how to concoct something to ease his stomach.” He dragged his finger down Joachim’s tie. “Now, where were we?”

  “Right here, I believe.” Joachim ground his hips against Ainsley’s and kissed him hard enough to bruise both of their mouths.

  A lifetime later, Ainsley pulled away and looked about, but the room was empty but for the two of them. “They’ve gone,” he said, still stroking Joachim’s biceps. Was it relief or sadness or an alchemical mix of every emotion in the world?

  “They have. But I’m here. And I’ll stay for the duration, if you allow me to.”

  Ainsley adjusted his posture and looked down his nose. “Having you around is slightly more bearable than when you’re gone. But only slightly, so be on your best behavior.”

  Joachim flexed his biceps and deepened his voice to a near growl. “I beg your pardon, Dr. Graham, but did you order me about?”

  Looking up from under that thick fringe of lashes, Ainsley licked his lips. “Maybe.”

  He grabbed a fistful of Ainsley’s round arse and slanted his mouth over the Scotsman’s. “I think you’ve forgotten your place. It’s a good thing I’m here to remind you.”

  His ginger melted in his arms. “Christ, yes, Joachim. Don’t you dare ever leave me again.”

  “I won’t. I’ll be watching you like a hawk. I’ve got a bloody paper to write, don’t I?”

  Epilogue

  Ainsley

  June 1929

  “Dr. Cockburn, why do you examine me like I’m an animal at the zoo? Your dissertation’s been accepted. You don’t need to study me any longer.”

  Joachim’s beautiful green-blue eyes softened with desire. “I suppose I’ve grown fond of looking, love. You’re exceptionally handsome tonight.”

  Ainsley’s cock twitched when his lover tossed a meaningful look at the Persian rug on the floor of their Edinburgh town house. He narrowed his eyes. “I think you ought to be the one entertaining me on the floor tonight, Dr. Cockburn.”

  “Called to the carpet, am I, Dr. Graham?” Joachim moved toward him in three long strides and unknotted Ainsley’s blue-and-green-plaid bow tie with a tug. Undid the placket of buttons with quick precision. Rubbed his hands over the small nipples that hardened with want.

  “I’ve been through your bloody therapy, darling. I think tonight is my time to prove I can be the one to give orders.” Ainsley gripped handfuls of Joachim’s hair and brought their lips together until his brute moaned, breathing heavy.

  Fuck, yes.

  Joachim’s lids fluttered with drunken need that seized Ainsley’s core. “And what will you have me do?” His voice was a whisper.

  A new game. Not that he was bored with the old one, but new was always...entertaining.

  Ainsley pulled back and walked a slow circuit around the massive muscles of the man he adored more than anyone on earth, taking in the slight but heady scent of his arousal. He didn’t miss the sudden lift of the wool draped over those immense thighs.

  “Since you’ve been thoughtful enough to wear traditional clothing, I want you to brace your arms on the sides of that chair after you’ve lifted your kilt to show me your pretty arse.”

  “I thought you’d appreciate my finding out my great-grandfather was Scots, Ainsley.” Joachim moved to the high-backed leather seat and hitched up the Cockburn-tartaned kilt to his waist. With careful slowness, he lowered his hands and squeezed the arms of the chair until his knuckles whitened. His gaze didn’t falter, and the heat of the room rose in accordance to Ainsley’s cock.

  He ran a hand over the taut roundness of Cockburn’s arse until he dropped lower and ran his fingernail along the enticing taint. “I admit your Scottish blood does make you that much more tantalizing, but you’re still half-Belgian.”

  Joachim winked and bit down on his lower lip, soft and wet and pink between the glistening golden hairs of his trimmed beard that Ainsley still couldn’t get enough of. “Don’t mock the half-Belgian part. It means we eat more than neeps and tatties.”

  Ainsley lifted a brow. “And beans and toasted cheese. Yes, I suppose I ought to thank you for expanding my taste buds.” He dropped to his knees and spread Joachim’s cheeks, licking a long line from top to bottom and back again. His brute quivered under his tongue. Slapped one side, just hard enough to make his palm tingle. And Joachim shudder. “Don’t move.”

  “Fuck me, Dr. Graham.” Cockburn’s voice trembled.

  “In good time, darling.” He went to work to reduce the man to a puddle of begging and pleading. Ran his tongue along the underside of Joachim’s cock and licked away the tang of precum before diving inside his tight hole. “No wiggling, or I won’t let you come tonight.”

  “You’re a monster, Dr. Graham.” Joachim’s breath hitched, but he held firm as Ainsley’s tongue flicked across every erogenous zone he knew of.

  “Manish explained a concept called karma. Ever heard of it?”

  “Not sure what I’ve done in my life to deserve you, but I’d do it ove
r ten times for this.” Joachim’s voice was nearly a squeal at the end and Ainsley dropped to his knees to give every bit of effort he could manage. He palmed his own cock as Joachim begged for some unnamed need.

  “Not enough?”

  Joachim smashed his fist against the armchair like he might break it in two. “Fuck, Ainsley. You’re so good. So so so good.”

  He sat back and pinched two handfuls of muscle. Smiled to himself. “Shame, I was going for utterly naughty.” He stood and removed his plaid trousers and threw them on the back of the chair. “Don’t move.”

  Only a quiver traced up Joachim’s spine. Ainsley stood back and surveyed the ravishing man kneeling over the chair. Thick golden hair dappled the thighs that were tight with want. But his arse was smooth and perfect and begged for his cock.

  Just not yet.

  “Turn around slowly, Dr. Cockburn. I want you to suck me.”

  Joachim did as he was told, his lips glistening. He opened his mouth and it was Ainsley’s turn to press into the arms of the chair as wet warmth enveloped his length. Fucking fucking hell, all the way in so the head of his prick hit the back of Joachim’s throat. They stared at one another until Ainsley’s eyes shut, unable to withhold the perfect gloriousness of it all. Cockburn didn’t move an inch and allowed Ainsley to fuck his mouth until he was so close to spending, he pulled all the way out and caught his breath.

  “I love you,” rasped Joachim. His own erection bobbed a fraction as it stood to attention. The head was shiny with need for him and Ainsley would have come if he had never seen it before. Still might.

  Ainsley gathered the small bottle of oil they kept in the bedside table and pushed Joachim down to his side, long across the carpet. Pressed his chest to the expansive back and rubbed a palm over the corded definition of Joachim’s pectorals. “I love you.”

  He wrapped a slick handful of lubricant along his cock, moaning into Joachim’s mouth while keeping the bigger man from falling to his back. He oiled his fingers where his tongue had recently taken sentry duty and plunged them inside, one two three, until Joachim’s spine arced toward him with a groan that went straight to Ainsley’s prick.