Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Romance was definitely in the air over the next few days at Hawthorne House. Several of the art classes were busy with projects that involved hearts or flowers, and Robbie even had his children’s class sculpting Cupids out of clay. Robbie also had flowers delivered for Toby on Valentine’s Day itself, Rhys Hawthorne had a giant balloon bouquet sent to his beau, Early, and in the morning of Valentine’s Day, Robert Hawthorne showed up in the kitchen asking if Leland could make a giant biscuit heart iced with the words “I love you, Janice” for his wife.

“I’m not sure if we have time,” Leland confessed to him, glancing around the kitchen.

Everything they would need to prepare for the feast that night was already laid out on every spare bit of counter, and some of the soups and sauces and things that could be prepared in advance were already bubbling on the hob. And that was without taking the day’s classes into consideration.

“I could do it,” Ean offered, stepping forward and glancing between Leland and Robert with a bright, hopeful look.

Robert smiled. Leland had introduced him to Ean the day before and quietly explained his story. Robert, being the old hippie and free spirit he was, had accepted Ean into the protection of Hawthorne House immediately.

“I’m sure you’ll do a bang-up job, young man,” Robert said, clapping a hand on Ean’s shoulder.

That decided that. Leland would have asked if Ean felt up to the task or if he minded working on something like that for free, but there wasn’t time for questions. As soon as Robert left, the two of them got to work.

Leland watched Ean with a careful eye as he got out the right bowls and baking sheets for the biscuit and as he fetched basic ingredients from the pantry and fridge. I couldn’t keep the smile off his face. The last few days had been filled with romance for more people than just the Hawthorne family.

Even though he reminded himself on an almost hourly basis that Ean was a vulnerable young man who didn’t need his older brother’s former best friend crowding in and flirting with him, Leland couldn’t help but enjoy Ean’s company. In a way, it was like all the years they’d spent apart had never happened and like Ean had been Leland’s best friend instead of Davie.

Ean was so sweet that the decidedly American nickname “sugar” just popped out of Leland when the two of them were knocking around his flat together. And sometimes in public, which had led to a few interesting looks from some of the Hawthornes. After those first heart-stopping moments where Ean had offered sex as a thank-you for Leland’s help, Ean had found other ways to be incredibly helpful and gracious.

Several times in the last few days Ean had mentioned something about finding his feet and getting out of Leland’s hair, but Leland definitely wasn’t in a hurry. He liked having Ean around. He liked seeing Ean’s smile and hearing his off-key singing when he didn’t think anyone was listening. If he was honest, he liked the moments when the two of them sat on the couch in the evening, when Ean turned sleepy and droopy and leaned against him.

When it came down to it, Leland wanted Ean.

As he zipped around the kitchen, laying out everything his morning teen class would need to make the cakes for that night’s supper and checking on the sauces between tasks, his mind kept drifting to ways that he could ask Ean whether he wanted to sleep in the bed with him going forward instead of under a blanket on the couch. He bounced back and forth between telling himself that it was just for comfort and convenience, but that didn’t stop fantasies of Ean naked under him from popping into his mind at inconvenient times.

Maybe he was some sort of grim predator taking advantage of someone who depended on him, but Ean seemed just as keen as he was. And wasn’t Robert Hawthorne and the rest of the family always talking about how sexuality should be freeing and enjoyable instead of something used to make you feel bad about yourself?

Leland’s thoughts settled into the much more practical when he realized Ean had all the ingredients for the biscuit laid out on the workspace in front of him but was staring at the recipe card with a frown. He cursed himself for not noticing earlier, then left the stove to stride over to Ean.

“Do you want me to read the recipe for you?” he asked carefully as the noisy teen students started to arrive.

Ean glanced up at him with the sweetest look of hope. “Actually, I’m doing pretty good at making it out,” he said. “I have to concentrate, but I’m not as stressed out as I was, so the letters are behaving themselves.”

Leland grinned. “Good,” he said. “Carry on, then.”

Without thinking about it, he leaned in and kissed Ean’s cheek the way he would if the two of them were dating.

As soon as the action was finished, the two of them froze and stared at each other, both of them flushing.

“Sir! Sir! Are we making heart-shaped cakes today?” one of the teenage girls called out.

The moment was shattered before Leland could make anything of it. The last thing he could do was have a much-needed relationship talk with Ean when the kitchen had just flooded with rowdy teenagers who dove right into the ingredients laid out on the countertops without being told.

“Yes, we’ll be making heart-shaped cakes today,” he said, giving his full attention to the class out of necessity. “But wait for instructions before you touch anything.”

Waiting for instructions was not something that particular class was good at. Leland spent the next hour racing from one end of the kitchen classroom to the other, attempting to keep the lid on the class. Someone must have given them loads of Valentine’s Day chocolate before they’d arrived, because they were all hyper and mischievous.

Ordinarily, he might have been amused by their high spirits, but he definitely wasn’t laughing when a carton of eggs ended up smashed on the floor, several boys’ uniforms ended up white with flour, and when one of the girls broke down in tears because she didn’t get a Valentine’s Day gift from the boy she was certain she was dating.

And that was just the teen class.

After they left, leaving half as many cakes as were needed for the supper because an entire batch had been burnt, one of the adult classes arrived. They were responsible for preparing the vegetable side dishes that would go with the main meal, but as they opened the boxes that had been delivered by the grocer in the middle of the chaotic teen class, they discovered piles of courgettes instead of the broccoli he’d ordered.

“We’ll have to pivot,” he told the half dozen mostly retired ladies who made up the class.

“Pivoting is something we’ve always been good at,” Betty said, winking at Arthur.

The two of them giggled and proceeded to be as bad as the teenagers, and much naughtier, for the rest of the class, as they put together a side dish using the courgettes.

Throughout that entire ordeal, Leland watched as Ean skillfully made a perfect, giant, heart-shaped biscuit. Ean was a sea of calm and focus in the middle of the busy kitchen, no matter what the class was getting up to. Once he finished the biscuit, he quietly took it upon himself to bake the rest of the cakes they would need for the supper without Leland telling him what to do. It was as if he just knew what his job was and he was determined to carry it out to the best of his abilities.

That skill came in even handier after lunch, when the real cooking began.

“We’ll leave the salmon until the last minute so it doesn’t dry out,” Leland instructed his afternoon adult class, the only class he trusted with the important bits of the meal, as Ean listened while decorating the biscuit. “But for now, we can start prepping the plates so they can be taken right out.”

Leland actually trusted that class to do what needed to be done, which gave him a moment to check on Ean.

What he discovered in the far corner of the room was not only a brilliantly decorated biscuit, but rows and rows of tiny heart-shaped cakes that had been iced and decorated so beautifully that Leland would have expected to see them in a high-end patisserie.

“Wow! Look at all this,” he said, smiling at Ean as much as the cakes. “Where did you learn to decorate like this?”

Ean blinked up at him. “I didn’t,” he said. “I mean, I’ve watched that baking show. I’m mostly making it up as I go along, though.”

“This is amazing,” Leland said, studying the cakes again. “Who knew you had the heart and soul of a pastry chef.”

“I’m not sure I do,” Ean said.

As he spoke, he rubbed the back of his hand over his nose, which must have been itching. He had icing on his hand, though, and the movement left a blob of pink sugar on his cheek.

“Hold on. You’ve just got some—” Leland pointed at the blob of icing, but then took it upon himself to cup the side of Ean’s face and wipe it away with his finger.

It was the best mistake he could have made. Ean froze and glanced up at him with hunger in his eyes. Leland’s heart squeezed and rioted in his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to stop touching Ean, even though he vaguely registered the buzz of other people in the kitchen behind him. Ean’s cheek was too warm under his hand, and the hope in his eyes made Leland want to fight the world just to make him happy.

There was nothing to fight in the kitchen, so he pulled his hand back and sucked the icing off his thumb. That was a whole other kind of mistake, because Ean’s gaze turned hazy and dropped to Leland’s mouth as he sucked his thumb.

The heat between the two of them was enough to make the industrial ovens in the kitchen jealous. Leland wanted Ean so badly that it short-circuited his brain.

“Yoo-hoo, Mr. Page. What should we do with the extra garlic?” someone called behind him.

Leland let out a disappointed breath. “Good job,” he told Ean, his voice rough with desire. He turned to head over to the others, but stopped long enough to say, “We should talk about this after the supper tonight.”

Ean looked suddenly worried. Leland wished he had the time to reassure him that it could be a very good talk. The only thing he was able to do with a room full of student chefs and a supper that was just over an hour away was to lean in and kiss Ean’s cheek again.

He wanted to kiss his mouth, but that would have opened a can of worms.

Everything seemed to speed up from that point. The afternoon class finished the side dishes and started in on poaching enough salmon to feed the sixty people who had signed up for the Valentine’s supper.

Except that fifteen minutes before the first course was meant to be served, Robert walked into the kitchen and said, “There seems to have been some sort of error with the bookings. We’ve got the wrong number of guests. We need supper for a hundred people tonight, not sixty.”

“Do we have enough food?” Ean asked, looking particularly anxious.

Leland winced, hoping that he could help Ean overcome his insecurity about food someday.

In the meantime, they had a supper that needed serving, and since the afternoon class had already left, it was just him and Ean who needed to figure things out.

“We can make more veggies and potatoes,” he said with a nod. “We’ll have to divide the salmon fillets a bit, but there’s enough sauce to cover up any cuts.”

“You’re a genius, Leland,” Robert said, happy and a little oblivious to the feat he’d just asked Leland and Ean to perform. “And so are you, young Ean.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ean replied, seemingly surprised that anyone would compliment him.

That was something else Leland wanted to talk to Ean about when they had time. Ean’s self-esteem needed serious work.

There wasn’t time, though. With the sounds of guests arriving and chattering away in the dining room just outside the kitchen growing, Leland and Ean went into high production mode to make certain supper for sixty people turned into enough for a hundred.

“You’re doing loaves and fishes miracles in here,” Rhys Hawthorne commented at one point, as he, Early, and a few other of the people who had been hired to wait tables for the night rushed around, gathering up plates of salad and bowls of soup to take out for the first course.

“We’ll do whatever you need us to,” Ean answered him without missing a beat as he plated up veggies for the main course.

Leland was so proud of him he could burst. More than that, thanks to Ean’s hard work and natural talent for all things culinary, the supper went off without a hitch.

“This is beautiful,” Leland overheard a middle-aged lady say as he and Ean helped the serving staff in the dining room, delivering the cakes to each table. “Are you responsible for this?” she asked Leland.

“Only partially,” Leland told her with a smile. “Ean here is our pastry chef.”

The woman beamed at Ean. “You’ve done an amazing job. I’m certain Hawthorne House is happy to have you.”

“Oh, I…I’m just learning,” Ean said, blushing bright pink to match the cakes he’d decorated.

“Just learning, you say?” one of the gentlemen seated at the table asked. “Are you one of Leland’s students?”

“Sort of?” Ean answered.

“When you’re finished your training, you and I should have a chat about employment in the kitchen at The Chameleon Club,” the gentleman said with a wink.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ean lowered his head.

“I’m serious,” the man said. “Perfectly serious. The Chameleon Club is hiring right now, and you’re exactly the sort we would love to bring on board.”

A twist of jealousy hit Leland. He realized that the gentleman was Patrick Tate, the HR director of The Chameleon Club. He actually had the authority to hire Ean. More than that, The Chameleon Club, somewhat like Hawthorne House, was a bit like a hotel in that it had dozens of rooms and suites for members of The Brotherhood to stay in when needed. Tate could be offering Ean more than just a job. He could be offering him a place to live as well.

Just like that, everything that Leland had become so cozy with in the last few days could be taken away from him. The Chameleon Club had everything Ean needed, and it made more sense for Ean to move there than to stay with him. The Brotherhood had been specifically designed two centuries ago to aid and assist the gay community with exactly the sort of situation Ean was in now. And what did Leland have to offer but a questionably appropriate relationship that had sprung up overnight?

He was still reeling with those thoughts when Robert stood at the head table and tapped his knife on his glass. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “Could I have your attention, please.”

Leland glanced to a smiling Ean, his heart feeling fragile enough to break. He’d just found Ean again and was still coming to terms with what Ean meant to him. He wasn’t ready to let that go yet, but it felt like he couldn’t stop it.