Chapter 3
THREE
The toy drive and Christmas party at Hawthorne House were supposed to be minor side-tracks for Alfie. They weren’t part of the process of winding up his time with the RAF, although it could be argued that it would help with his transition to civilian life. Regardless, he should have put his full focus into logistics and ensuring that his brothers-in-arms had everything they needed for their continuing campaigns around the world and that whoever took over from him next would have everything they needed.
But that didn’t stop Alfie from eagerly checking in on everything at Hawthorne House a time or two after his initial meeting with Robert Hawthorne. It didn’t stop him from thinking about Blaine Hawthorne almost constantly either.
Blaine had successfully avoided his pursuer on that first day. Alfie had found that out two days later, when he’d made an excuse to drop by Hawthorne House with a load of toys that had been collected at other locations. He was only there to drop the toys off, but he’d ended up having a half-hour conversation with Blaine about his now-defunct decorating business and the sorts of jobs he used to do.
“Ha! I’ve just realized something,” Blaine had said, blossoming into a breezy smile and chucking Alfie’s arm playfully towards the end of that conversation. “I’m a decorator and you’re decorated.”
“Very funny,” Alfie had said with what probably came off as a wry smirk. “I would argue that you’re decorated, too,” he said, nodding to Blaine’s loud shirt of the day.
It was vaguely military in style, which had Alfie wondering if that was on purpose, but in lurid shades of purple and pink with an iridescent shine. It was irreverent and awful, but Alfie couldn’t stop staring at it and smiling.
“This old thing?” Blaine replied, extra campy, brushing the compliment away. “You’re too kind.”
Inwardly, Alfie appreciated Blaine’s easy sense of humor and flamboyant mannerisms more than he had admitted. Being able to be yourself and express who you were was a trait he couldn’t afford in his line of work, but that he liked.
The second time he’d taken a load of toys over to Hawthorne House, Alfie looked specifically for Blaine. He’d walked up to the house with an excited spring in his step, glanced around the front hallway in search of him, and checked in every room with an open door as he’d walked to the dining hall with his toys. Blaine wasn’t around that day, though. Alfie was surprised how much of a disappointment that was. He told himself it was because he’d been looking forward to seeing Blaine’s ridiculous shirt of the day, but he knew that was a lie.
As he was leaving, Alfie got caught in a parade of kids from the local primary school in the front hall. Robert had explained to him during his initial tour that a few local primary schools bussed kids in for art classes during the weekdays. Alfie had been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time and been trapped by two large groups as they arrived and one that was leaving.
“Wow! Are you a real soldier?” one boy who was about ten asked him as he waited for the log jam in the hall to clear.
“I am,” Alfie had answered. “I’m Corporal Alfie Spears, Royal Air Force.”
“Do you fly jets?” a girl standing next to the boy asked.
“Not jets,” Alfie answered, standing a little taller and presenting himself like the imposing officer he was sure the kids wanted him to be. “I flew cargo planes. The really big ones.”
“I saw pictures of those online,” the boy said in a breathless rush. “They’re so huge! I saw one that was filled with people being evacuated from Kabul a few years ago. It was really neat!”
Alfie clenched his gut and his jaw for a moment as the scent of all those people, the dirt and sand, and the cries of terrified women and babies as they were filed into a great, metal beast that would take them far away from everything they’d ever known came back to him.
“Those are exactly the planes I flew,” he said, forcing himself to relax and be honest with the kids. “You might have even seen a picture of my plane.”
“Wow!” the boy said again.
Alfie would have loved to continue the conversation, but the class had moved on, and he’d needed to get back to his office.
He liked kids. He always had. Some military men had a hard time talking to them, but Alfie always felt better after being around kids. That was one of the reasons he’d volunteered to spearhead the toy drive.
It could be why he felt so drawn to Blaine Hawthorne, too, although his interest in Blaine was definitely not childlike. He liked Blaine’s playfulness and open spirit. He had enjoyed the few, short times they’d spent together.
He would also enjoy spreading Blaine out on his bed and railing him until he cried out in ecstasy for divine intervention, but that was also another story entirely.
“Spears.”
His superior’s voice and the knock on his office door shook Alfie out of his increasingly heated fantasies about what he wanted to do with Blaine. He jerked, sat straighter, noticed the time, and stood abruptly to salute.
“Group Captain Parker,” he said, then lowered his hand.
“Morning,” Parker greeted him less formally. “How’s everything going with this year’s toy drive?”
Alfie shuffled a bit and glanced at his clock again. “Actually, sir, I just noticed the time. I’m supposed to meet up with a member of Hawthorne House’s staff to pick up a few supplies for the Christmas party.”
Parker laughed. “It’s all about supplies with you, Spears, isn’t it.”
“That’s my job, sir,” Alfie answered with a friendly half-smile. He was on good terms with Parker and respected the man.
“Your job is exactly what I want to talk to you about today,” Parker said, moving closer to the desk.
Heat seemed to prickle across Alfie’s skin. He knew what was coming. He’d heard whispers of it for weeks now, as he got closer to his last day.
“You know we don’t want to lose you, Spears, right?” Parker asked.
“I’m glad that I’ve been a valued officer,” Alfie replied.
“But you’re now three weeks away from leaving,” Parker said.
“I am.” Alfie nodded. He definitely knew where this was going, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to face it.
Parker hesitated for a moment before asking, “What if I told you there was a promotion and a commission waiting for you if you changed your mind and stayed?”
Alfie sucked in a breath. He’d been expecting Parker to ask him to reconsider leaving, but offering him a commission was a surprise. The RAF wanted him to stay on board badly enough to make him a commissioned officer. That brought a pay rise with it, but also a huge increase in prestige. And a return to active duty.
Alfie wasn’t sure that was what he wanted anymore. He thought of the kids who had been scared and crying during the evacuation, the kids who had been caught in the crossfire when skirmishes had broken out before that, the girl he’d carried to safety. He also thought of the smiling, awed kids he’d seen at Hawthorne House.
“I’m not sure, sir,” he said, being as honest as he could.
Parker frowned slightly. “Not sure if you’d take a promotion?”
“Not sure what I want to do next, if I’m honest,” Alfie said with surprising candor.
He glanced at the clock again as Parker hummed and rubbed his chin. Parker glanced at the clock as well.
“It looks like you’re anxious to get where you’re going, so why don’t we circle back to this later?” Parker finally said.
Alfie breathed a little easier. “Yes, sir. That would be best.”
He stepped around his desk to grab his coat. Parker accompanied him when he left his office.
“I want you to start thinking about it,” Parker said. “It’s not too late to change your mind about staying on here. You’ve done everything right, and if there’s any turbulence, I can pave the way for you. I think we have just the commission for you, though.”
“Thank you for considering me,” Alfie said as they reached the lift. “I look forward to hearing more.”
Parker let him get into the lift but didn’t come with him. It was a relief. For years, Alfie had hoped for a promotion to commissioned officer. Almost no one from his sort of background was offered the chance to rise like that. He had no idea what sort of specifics Parker had in mind, but the man he’d been five years ago would have been champing at the bit to make a lifelong career in the military.
Then the fighting and evacuation had happened and he’d seen another side of life entirely.
He didn’t dislike the military and he was proud of his service and what they did around the world, he just wanted…more. And less, to be honest.
That more and less rattled around his brain as he drove out to Hawthorne House. He weighed the pros and cons of taking a commission and spending the rest of his life working his way up the ranks. He had no idea what he’d do if he left the military.
Maybe something with kids.
That idea hit him as he pulled into the parking lot for Hawthorne House just as one of the buses was leaving. He made a face of consideration instead of rejecting the idea right away as silly.
Maybe he’d do something with Blaine Hawthorne.
That idea brought a different sort of smile to his face as he got out of his car and headed up to Hawthorne House’s front door. He could think of a couple things he would like to do with Blaine.
“There you are,” Blaine greeted him with a shout of enthusiasm worthy of any of the kids who took classes at the arts center. Today’s sartorial confection was a lime green top with sequined Christmas designs, sleek, black jeans, and boots with thick heels that brought Blaine closer to Alfie’s eye level. “Hurry! We need to get into London in plenty of time to beat the crowds.”
Blaine blew towards him like a gale and grabbed his arm. He spun Alfie around and dragged him right back out into the December cold.
“London?” Alfie asked. “I thought we were going to pick up supplies for the party.”
“We are,” Blaine said, making a face at Alfie’s decidedly ordinary car as they reached the parking lot. “It just so happens that these particular supplies can be found in some of the more high-end shops in Knightsbridge.”
Alfie smirked at him as he got back into his car. The seat was still warm. “Knightsbridge,” he said, staring at Blaine as he started the engine.
“I can’t help it if I have exquisite taste,” Blaine said in an airy voice.
Alfie chuckled. His insides felt lighter. Yeah, he was going to have the time of his life once he finally bent Blaine over the arm of his sofa and stuffed his stocking.
He chuckled again. Only a couple of days with Blaine Hawthorne and he was already using Christmas metaphors.
That still didn’t mean he liked Christmas, as was confirmed once they’d entered London, found a place to park, and hit the high streets to pick up Blaine’s so-called supplies.
“You need these Christmas baubles?” he asked in a deadpan voice, looking at the box of outrageously overpriced ornaments Blaine had handed him as they made their way through Harrod’s. “These specific ones?”
“Yes, of course,” Blaine said, adding another two boxes to the pile he was making in Alfie’s arms.
A salesperson a few displays over glanced Blaine up and down, curling her lip a little at Blaine’s shirt. Alfie stared straight at her until she noticed, jumped a little, and turned away.
“You know you can get the same ones at Asda for a fifth of the price,” he said to Blaine.
“They’re not the same ones,” Blaine insisted. “These ones are so much better.”
“Because of the price tag?”
Blaine turned to give him a withering look.
That look made Alfie smile. He decided then and there that he liked poking at Blaine.
“I’m not decorating a centuries-old estate house with cheap ornaments made in China,” Blaine said.
Alfie turned over the box he was still holding in one hand. “These are made in China.”
“What? No, they aren’t.”
Blaine hurried to check all the boxes he’d given Alfie to hold, a brand of outrage in his eyes that made Alfie laugh. Doing so brought them into close proximity. Alfie kind of liked the feeling of Blaine pawing all over him.
“You liar!” Blaine laughed a moment later as he pulled back. “They’re made in Italy.”
“Are you sure?” Alfie continued to tease him as Blaine checked a few more boxes that were part of a winter wonderland display. “They probably just say that so posh people like you pay extra for them.”
“They were made in Italy,” Blaine insisted, suddenly looking like the titled nob he probably was, what with his family’s legacy.
Oddly enough, that just made Alfie’s uniform trousers tighter.
“Maybe we should go to Italy to find out for sure,” he said.
It wasn’t exactly an invitation to run off to the Amalfi Coast with him for a mini-break. It wasn’t really teasing either. But Alfie enjoyed the look of surprise and hope that came into Blaine’s eyes for a moment as he entertained the idea. It was something more than the comic, scattered sort of humor he usually showed.
“Pardon me, sir, but there’s a limit of three per customer with those baubles you’re holding,” the snooty sales lady said, approaching Blaine.
Blaine had taken five of the outlandish, commemorative glass ornaments from the tree display in his attempt to make certain nothing was made in China. Alfie had a hard time keeping his laugh inside as Blaine sheepishly put them all back.
Alfie’s laughter vanished once they made it to the till and saw the price for the ornaments.
“You’ve got to be joking,” he said as Blaine pulled out a credit card.
“I never joke about money,” Blaine said with a straight face.
Alfie huffed. “I suppose the Hawthorne family has more than enough of it.”
He was joking, but Blaine’s mirth fell. “Actually, they don’t have very much,” he said. “Uncle Robert nearly lost Hawthorne House last summer when an entertainment company tried to buy it for development. We’re all lucky that The Brotherhood came along and saved our bacon with some timely donations.”
Alfie had heard of The Brotherhood, but that was about it.
“Then why are you spending a small fortune on Christmas ornaments from a place like this when you could just get them at a discount store?” he asked.
He regretted the question almost at once.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t be spending money like this,” Blaine said, looking downright haunted.
It was too late, though. The transaction was complete, Alfie had taken the bags off the counter and had them hanging from his arms, and they were heading for the door already.
“You can always return them,” Alfie suggested. “As long as you don’t open the packages. At least, that’s what Mum always told me.”
They’d had to return a lot of things they’d bought at Christmastime when he was young in order to buy food and pay the rent.
“This is my problem,” Blaine said with a sigh as they headed down the street toward where they’d parked. “I’m rubbish when it comes to money. And men. I’m absolutely rubbish with men, too. That’s what’s gotten me into most of the scrapes I’m in now.”
“You’re in more than one scrape?” Alfie asked, trying to be funny. “At Christmas?”
“Christmas is the worst time for scrapes,” Blaine said, not quite catching the joke.
“I thought it was your favorite time of year,” Alfie said.
“Oh, it is. But that’s why I always seem to get into trouble.”
“With money or men?”
Blaine sent him a mournful look. “With both.” He was silent for a few more steps as they walked on, avoiding other shoppers and the inexplicably ever-present sounds of carols filling the air. Then he suddenly blurted, “Look, you should know that I have a long and checkered dating history.”
“Do you?” Alfie asked, grinning. He definitely wanted to hear about the whole thing.
“Yes,” Blaine said. “I fall in love instantly, get carried away on the feeling, throw myself at the guy, and only after the fact do I realize I really just wanted to get laid and I don’t actually like the guy much. And they don’t really like me.”
It took all of Alfie’s self-control not to snort with laughter. Blaine was just like him in the libido department, though he definitely didn’t fancy himself in love when he dipped his toe in sexy waters. He wasn’t as keen on the way Blaine put himself down, though.
He couldn’t resist the urge to tease Blaine a little more by asking, “And you feel this is something I need to know?”
“Yes, well—” Blaine started out easily, then nearly choked as he realized what he’d said. “Oh God, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I wasn’t coming onto you or anything. Not that you’re not exactly my type. You are. You so are. I would absolutely come on to you if we were at a pub or a club and you were gay.” He gasped, then groaned. “You see? This is why I’ve ended up with more ex-boyfriends than I can count.”
Alfie was completely charmed, even though everything that came out of Blaine’s mouth was, arguably, embarrassing as hell. Hadn’t he picked up on all the flirting? He couldn’t possibly think he was straight after all that.
He was about to say something else designed to throw Blaine off and cause him to say something silly when they turned a corner and Blaine stopped cold. He made a panicked sound just as a man who was walking towards them, hands in his coat pockets, face hunkered into a scarf for warmth, glanced up at them.
“Blaine?” the man asked, blinking in surprise.
“Oh. Charlie, hi,” Blaine said in return, then leaned towards Alfie. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting a little Christmas shopping done,” the man, Charlie said. He brightened at the sight of Blaine, but not in a way Alfie liked. “And you?”
“Doing some shopping for a Christmas party being held at Hawthorne House,” Blaine said, squirming with discomfort.
Charlie blinked and tilted his head, looking at Blaine strangely. “Didn’t I hear that you did something that caused your business with Dave to be sued? A fire or something? Are you certain you should be spending money right now?”
Alfie found it interesting that some random guy they’d just happened upon while shopping would not only know what he seemed to know about Blaine but that he thought he had a right to an opinion about it, too. More than that, he didn’t like the way Blaine blanched at everything he’d asked.
“And you are?” he asked, standing straight so that he could look down on the man.
Charlie took in a small breath as he seemed to realize Blaine and Alfie were together and that Alfie wasn’t some random guy who had gone shopping at Harrod’s and randomly stood near Blaine.
“Oh. I’m Charlie,” Charlie said, holding out his hand with a smile. He pulled his hand back when he realized there was no way Alfie would be able to shake it. “Blaine and I used to date. Well, if dating is what you’d call it.” He winked at Blaine.
Blaine looked embarrassed to have everything he’d just said about his disastrous dating life proven seconds after he’d confessed to being a hot mess.
Alfie didn’t like the way Charlie was subtly putting Blaine down with his comments and his wink. He didn’t like the way Blaine appeared to feel bad about something he shouldn’t have been ashamed of. The whole thing made him want to step in and protect someone he liked.
“I’m Alfie,” he said, no humor in his voice. And because he couldn’t resist the urge to stir up a little trouble, he added, “I’m Blaine’s boyfriend.”