Chapter Twenty #2
James grinned. “It went off without a single fatality, which by Lex’s planning standards is a clean sweep.
Bash fixated on the foal four seconds in and pretty much shoved the ring on himself because Lex wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking.
And Vidal lasted about thirty seconds before he flung himself into the family hug and Beauchamp had to go in after him. ”
Tristan laughed. “So Lex proposed and Barnaby spent the rest of the evening ignoring him for the horse.”
“In essence, yes. But Lex didn’t mind in the slightest. He couldn’t take his eyes off him.”
James drew his mobile from the pocket of his robe and thumbed through the camera roll. He’d taken thirty-odd photographs over the course of the evening, and most were a blur of movement. One had come out well, and he showed it to Tristan.
He’d caught it just after the family hug, once he’d finally herded everyone back from the couple long enough to get a few pictures.
Barnaby had folded in against Lex’s chest, and Lex was looking down at him with his face gone soft and stupid, while the foal had pushed her muzzle through the bars between them, still going for Barnaby’s fingers.
“Bash wants to use this for the engagement announcement. Doesn’t care that there’s hay in his hair. ”
“It’s perfect.” Tristan smiled down at the photo.
“They’ve made me best man,” James said, drawing his robe tighter around himself. “You’ll have to help me with the speech. You’ve clearly got the gift for it, going by the puns you keep lobbing at me. They’ve all been winners so far.”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “The puns land because you’re the King, James.
I keep telling you and you keep not listening.
” He set the diary down against his thigh.
“You could stand up at that wedding and read out drunk texts from Barnaby and the marquee would give you a standing ovation. Take that exact same material to an open mic in Croydon and they’d be checking their watches by the second line. ”
The thing was, James had the texts, years of them, archived on his mobile, because he never deleted evidence.
“As it happens, I can give you wedding material right now. These messages arrived in the space of one evening during last year’s Badminton. I’ll give just the gist of the first few. Horse. Horse. Horse.”
Tristan had both hands clamped over his mouth by the time the third mention of ‘horse’ came.
“But this is the jewel of the collection.” James scrolled on.
“Sent at gone one in the morning.” He read it word for word.
“Can’t make brunch tomorrow. Had a most lovely evening, and now I’ve decided my time is best spent taking another long and leisurely ride on Lex’s lovely huge cock come morning. ”
Tristan dropped his face into the wing of the chair, his laughter barely muffled by the cushioning.
“And then, at nine the next morning, the tone rather changed.” James read, “Please delete that.” He laid the mobile face-down on his knee. “I did not delete it. I knew then and there that Lex and Barnaby were in it for life, and that at some point a screenshot of this text would come in handy.”
“You can’t use that one, James. Not at the reception, anyway. And I know that you know that.”
“The stag do, then.”
Tristan gripped James’s forearm, squeezing tight. “No.”
“Then you’ll have to give me something I can use.
” James left the mobile where it lay. “You’re right that the title does most of the work.
People laugh because not laughing at the King feels treasonous.
But these are my oldest friends, Tristan.
They’ve decades of material on me, and they’ll be sitting in that marquee, being all judgey.
It’ll be the most hostile room I have ever stood up in, and I’d rather not walk into it unarmed. ”
Tristan stared at the ceiling.
“Okay. Picture it. Everyone’s three glasses deep, Linda’s already crying, the whole tent’s gone soft after watching Lex and Barnaby on the dance floor.
You stand up, deadly serious, and you tell them that when word got round a boxer and a horseman were getting hitched, there were plenty of neighsayers. ”
James chuckled.
“But that’s just the opener, James. While they’re all still groaning, you go again, straight at Lex.
You raise your glass, and you tell them everyone knows the secret to an interesting and eventful marriage is marrying someone miles out of your league.
And then you say that no boxer in the history of the sport has ever punched further above his weight than the lad from Barking who somehow talked a marquess up the aisle. ”
James laughed. “Barnaby will hate every word of it. Which is precisely why it’ll land. It’ll crack Lex up, and once Lex goes there’s no saving it. He’ll lose it completely.”
“Beats reading out his texts about Lex’s massive cock in front of his mother. It’s slightly more dignified.”
James settled deeper into the chair and stretched his legs towards the cold grate. He had a wedding to plan for and a kingly thing to get to in a few hours. The sensible thing to do was to take himself off to bed.
“Give me another one,” he demanded. “I’ve a youth centre to open on Tuesday, and I’d like to sound ‘down’ with Gen Alpha.”