Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
GAbrIEL
“Where are you off to?” Immy’s voice echoes across the large hallway, and I pause with my hand on the door. I knew I should’ve snuck out the back door or through the garden room.
“Haven’t you got a home to go to?” I spin round, glaring at her as she saunters over, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.
I’m starting to regret my decision to let her and Oliver have a suite of rooms here.
They officially live in Spain, though, so it doesn’t make sense to keep a house in England too.
We have more than enough room and I know Mother likes to have them here.
“Stop avoiding the question.” She stands in front of me and takes a deep sniff. “Hmm cologne, do you have a date?”
“No!” I say sharply. At least I don’t think it’s a date.
Charley never said it was a date. Is it a date?
I mean, I did take an extra long shower and I’m wearing my favourite cream shirt and dark moss cords.
But that’s because I want to look like I’ve made an effort, not turn up in my polo whites and dirty boots. Immy just laughs at me.
“Have fun, brother,” she says.
“It’s just dinner,” I mumble and slip through the door before she can say anything else. I mutter the same words as I drive a UTV down to the cottage.
If it’s just dinner, why am I standing in front of his door with a dry mouth and needing to wipe my hands on my trousers?
I take a deep breath and stand taller. I’m Lord Sinclair and I’ve been trained for every social occasion imaginable.
Except perhaps dinner with the man I’ve been in love with for years and found out yesterday he feels the same way.
They don’t cover that in Social Etiquette 101.
I take another deep breath and knock on the door.
“Hey,” Charley says, opening the door with a smile.
“Hey, yourself,” I reply as I enter. He’s wearing the soft blue sweater that matches his eyes, and I want to hold him, so I do.
I pull him in for a kiss, wrapping my arms around him.
It grounds me, even though it still feels strange and blows my mind if I think about it too hard, but having Charley in my arms and him kissing me back brings a kind of peace.
“I love this sweater, you look amazing in it. It matches your eyes and makes your cute freckles stand out.”
“No one’s ever said anything like that to me before,” he says a little breathlessly and cups my face. “Thank you.”
Okay, maybe etiquette lesson number whatever—pay someone a compliment—has helped, but it was genuine and easy. He’s so fucking gorgeous. Suddenly a beeping sound erupts and he peels himself out of my arms and goes to the kitchen. I follow him through and watch him turn off the oven timer.
“Something smells delicious,” I say and he chews on his bottom lip, suddenly looking a little nervous.
“It's been a long time since I’ve cooked for anyone, so I hope it’ll be okay.”
“If it tastes half as good as it smells, it’ll be perfect.” I try to reassure him and he relaxes his shoulders a little. I guess we’re both feeling a bit nervous about tonight. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Can you open the wine and take it through?” He gestures to a bottle of wine on the table and I pick it up—a rioja from the Gran Amor vineyard, I’m impressed.
It's a great wine, but not that easy to get hold of in the UK, and not cheap either. I uncork it and carry it through to the small dining area of the living room. The table is set beautifully, with candles in the centre, which I light, and soft music playing in the background. It looks very romantic, and I’m touched that Charley went to the trouble, and very glad I didn’t turn up in riding clothes.
He carries through a couple of dishes and places them on the table, smiling when he sees I’ve lit the candles. He disappears and returns with another couple of dishes and then gestures for me to sit.
“This all looks lovely.” I take my seat and spread out the napkin.
“Help yourself.” He still looks nervous so I dish up the steak, some rosemary potatoes, green beans, button mushrooms, and peppercorn sauce. It really is good, very well cooked. The steak is just how I like it, so he must have remembered, which means more to me than everything else.
Conversation is stilted, though, as if we’re both on a blind date and are trying too hard. I look over at him as I take a sip of wine. He looks just as awkward as me, which is ridiculous, he’s my best and oldest friend. Screw this, I need to break the tension.
“I have a confession,” I say and he lifts his head, his eyes a little wary. “I wasn’t sure if this was a date or not.” I lean forward and whisper, “Is it?”
He presses his lips together as if he’s trying to hold something in, then the corners of his mouth start twitching and his shoulders shake. The tension bursts like a bubble as he snorts with laughter.
“I was asking myself the exact same thing. I wanted to make it nice, and I wanted some special food, so I asked Simon to give me some ideas. And good wine, so again Simon suggested what I should get. Then it led to the candles and music.” He looks around the room.
“I got a bit carried away, didn’t I? Sorry. ”
I reach across the table and take his hand.
“Don’t apologise. I’m touched that you did all this for me. I’m really enjoying being wined and dined. But we seem to have forgotten that we can just be us.”
He interlaces our fingers.
“I know, everything’s the same but also all different and I’m not sure how we navigate that.”
“Together. We can do it together,” I say and he gives my hand a squeeze.
“Yes we can.” He releases my hand and picks up his fork. “Let’s be normal again. Tell me about the horses today. Which ones did you ride?”
I spend the next few minutes recounting which horses were doing well, the ones that might be ready this season.
We have a few brood mares who are ready to foal too.
I’m not planning on creating a stud, but I like to breed from some of the good polo mares like Silver Heather.
As we talk I relax more, and it feels like old times when all we had to do was discuss horses and not worry about the future.
It’s been a long time since that was a luxury, though we didn’t realise it then.
“How’s Pete? Did you go and see him?” I ask as Charley starts to clear the plates. I jump up to help him, pleased that he doesn’t wave me off from doing my share.
“He’s much the same, as usual, you know how he is. Here’s something I haven’t told you, though. He told me, back when I came out to him—which was the non-event of the century—that he’s gay.”
“Pete? Really?” That’s a surprise, not because I didn’t think it was possible, it’s just that I think of Pete as a mechanic. Which doesn’t mean to say he can’t have a partner or relationship, but I’ve just never thought of him that way.
“Yeah, that was my reaction too. He says he doesn’t have the time or inclination to be involved with anyone, but I do sometimes wonder if he would like some companionship. He can’t go on forever, he’ll want to retire at some point. I hate to see him lonely.”
“You going to start matchmaking?” I tease, and Charley grins and shrugs.
“A gentle nudge wouldn’t hurt, I suppose.”
Once we’ve washed the dishes, we take the rest of the wine through to the living room to finish.
I haven’t seen the room since helping him unload the furniture from Manchester, but it already looks different.
It seems crazy to think that was just a week ago.
He’s started to add his own touches. A throw, and cushions .
. . A couple of new pictures hang on the wall, and there are a few photos on the mantelpiece.
There’s a photo of a young couple holding a baby, and it takes me a minute to realise it must be his parents.
There’s one of Pete. A great action shot of Charley on Silver Heather, he must have been around sixteen at the time.
Then there’s one of us both. It was taken that last summer, a few weeks before I ruined everything.
I have my arm flung around Charley’s shoulder and we’re both smiling at the camera.
“I love that photo,” he says, coming to stand beside me. “I couldn’t look at it for a long time and had it hidden away. But now I want it to be seen. I want us to be seen.”
I put down my glass and cup my hands round his face. I look into his eyes, the colour of a Mediterranean sky in the early morning, full of promise and warmth.
“I see you, Charley Marshall,” I whisper and kiss him.
It starts softly, but his gentle sigh ignites something in me and I deepen the kiss.
He tips his head back further and sucks my bottom lip, his teeth grazing across it making me moan.
He walks me backwards until my knees hit something solid and I sit.
He follows me down, our lips never parting as he clambers onto me and straddles my lap as I’m enveloped in his large Eames chair.
He reaches for my belt at the same time as I fumble at the buttons on his trousers. I want to touch him.
“Want you, baby,” I whisper against his mouth.
“Yes,” he groans.
He releases my dick and pulls his lips off mine to look down at it, already hard and slick with precum.
“Mmm I like that,” he hums, giggling slightly as his words make it twitch. I manage to open his trousers and wrap my hand round his cock, pulling it free of his boxer briefs. I slide my hand up and down a few times and he moans.
He rocks his hips forward and his dick slides against mine.
“Fuck that feels good.” The sensation of his hardness rubbing against me is something I’ve never felt before.
“Do us both,” he commands with a sultry smile on his face, and I know I’d do anything for him when he asks like that.
I rub the precum round our cocks with my thumb, and taking hold of us in one hand I start moving.
Charley throws his head back and rolls his hips, fucking into my hand and providing extra fricton for my cock.
I can’t stop watching as his movements become more erratic, and my hand slips, but I don’t care and keep on gripping us.
He grabs hold of my shoulders, digging his fingers in, and looks at me as I raise my eyes to his face. He licks his lips and bites his lower lip, then lowers his eyes. It’s a fucking display and I love it. My hand speeds up.
“Make me come, Gabby.” It might be my hand moving but I know I’m not the one in control, and I don’t care, I’m spellbound by him.
“That’s it, so good, so fucking good,” he croons and then leans down, capturing my mouth with his. His tongue commands entry and I open for him as he conquers my mouth as well. He moves faster in my hand, and I know I can’t take much more. My balls draw up and my thighs shake.
“Gonna come, baby,” I moan.
“Yes, yes. Gabby, let go.” It sounds like an order and my body responds to him. My orgasm hits hard and cum spills over my hand. Charley keeps moving, keeps fucking my hand, my cum providing a sticky layer of lube. His nails dig harder into my shoulders as he jerks forwards hard and comes.
We’re both breathless, and his chest heaves as he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips.
“That was amazing,” he pants.
“I’ve never done anything like that before,” I whisper and he smiles.
“No?”
“I haven’t done a lot, really.” I don’t mind letting him know. I’ve had a few sexual encounters since discovering that I’m bi, but no relationships. I’ve been busy, and none of them were Charley.
“Then we are going to have some fun.” His voice holds a promise, and I can’t wait, especially if he’s going to take charge again. I liked that, which surprises me, but I’m not going to think too hard about it.
“We should get cleaned up.” He slowly stands up, working the kinks out of his legs.
I look down at the sticky mess over my shirt and belly.
“Perhaps we should’ve got undressed first,” I say.
“Remember that for next time,” he laughs. “Would you like a shower, and maybe stay the night? I’m tired, so I just want to cuddle, but it’ll give your family something to talk about.”
“Haha, that would be fun, but cuddling sounds perfect to me,” I say and take his hand as he leads the way upstairs. Date or not, it’s been the best evening of my life so far.