Chapter 5
FIVE
Blaine Hawthorne was either the single most disruptive force that had ever entered Alfie’s life or he was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Either way, he had Alfie doing things that he never would have considered before.
Not going for that kiss or wanting to find a quiet corner to play a game of hide the sausage, of course. He considered those things all the time when he met someone who caught his fancy. It was the way Blaine had him hanging insanely overpriced ornaments on a light-decorated tree and actually enjoying the process that was astonishing and outlandish for him. And the way he suddenly had an opinion about whether tinsel belonged on a fresh-cut tree or not.
“It looks pretty,” he argued as he and Blaine stood side-by-side in front of the large tree about half an hour after they’d almost kissed. Alfie had hung several pieces of tinsel over one part of the tree, and now the two of them were debating whether to do more.
“It looks cheap,” Blaine lamented.
Alfie shrugged. “It’s shiny.”
“It’s tacky.”
“It’s supposed to look like icicles.”
“It looks like crap. I don’t even know why I let you slip those boxes into the trolley.”
Alfie grinned before he could stop himself. Knowing it would throw Blaine off, he circled his arm around Blaine’s shoulders and pulled him close, as if they were a real couple.
“It’s romantic,” he said.
Blaine huffed a breath, then shrugged out of Alfie’s half-embrace with a shouted, “Damn you, Corporal Alfie Spears!”
He then marched over to the ladder, where the open box of tinsel sat, pulled out a handful, and began to throw it over the branches.
Alfie chuckled and moved to join Blaine in finishing off the tree.
“I’m glad to know it’s so easy to get my own way with you,” he said.
“It is not easy to have your way with me,” Blaine protested with mock irritation.
Alfie’s brow shot up. He leaned around the tree enough to look at Blaine directly instead of through the branches. “I said ‘get’ my own way, not ‘have my way’ with you. They’re two different things.”
“Oh,” Blaine said, his face going pink.
Alfie went back to strewing tinsel, but added, “I could have my way with you whenever I wanted.”
When Blaine didn’t immediately fire back with something cute, Alfie leaned to the side to look at him around the tree again.
Blaine was redder than ever. When he felt Alfie’s stare, he shifted stiffly to meet his eyes and said, “Yeah, well, it’s not really that difficult for anyone to have their way with me.”
Alfie’s smile dropped. Was Blaine still hung up on the ethics of having a strong libido?
“I didn’t mean to imply?—”
His question was cut off as his mobile rang in his pocket. He blew out through his nose, tossed his remaining handful of tinsel over the tree, then pulled his phone out to see who was calling.
It was Group Captain Parker.
“I have to take this,” he told Blaine, stepping away from the tree.
When he was halfway across the room, he tapped to answer the call with, “Parker, hello.”
“Hello, Spears,” Parker answered. Fortunately, he didn’t sound upset or angry. He shouldn’t be. Alfie had been specific when he’d told Parker he would be out of the office today. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
Alfie glanced back over his shoulder at Blaine and the large Christmas tree. Blaine was pretending to be focused on decorating, but Alfie had the sense he was watching him.
“Not really,” he answered, turning away so his thoughts could focus where they needed to. “I’m at Hawthorne House, helping to decorate for the Christmas party next weekend.”
“Good. That sounds fun,” Parker said. “Keep up the good work.”
“I will.”
“Speaking of your future, I need to bring that meeting we were going to have up by a couple days,” Parker said.
“Sir?”
“If you were in the office today, I would sit down and discuss it with you now, but I respect your time off. We need to talk first thing tomorrow morning, though.”
“I can manage that,” Alfie said, frowning a bit. His insides suddenly felt tight and fluttery.
“The commission I dangled in front of you might be available sooner than I anticipated,” Parker went on. “You would need to be available to report for duty in Cyprus early in the new year.”
Alfie hesitated, the fluttering in his gut starting to spread. “I see, sir.”
He turned to watch Blaine continue with the decorations as Parker went on with, “This would represent a significant promotion, Lieutenant Spears.”
Alfie blinked. That wasn’t a slip on Parker’s part, it was a carrot he was dangling in front of him. After all the hard work Alfie had put into his career for the last ten years, a commission and promotion to lieutenant would be a big deal. But was it what he really wanted now?
He’d stayed silent too long.
“Anyhow, think about it and we’ll talk tomorrow, if not before,” Parker said. “I’ll fill you in on all the details then.”
“Thank you, sir,” Alfie said.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Parker ended the call. Alfie took a deep breath as he stared at his phone, then slipped it back into his pocket.
“What was that all about?” Blaine asked, genuine concern in his expression, as Alfie returned to the tree. “You look unsettled.”
“I’m—” Alfie stopped himself from saying he was fine.
He stared at Blaine for a moment, then took a deep breath and made a decision, potentially a big one.
“Last year, I put in my notice to leave the RAF,” he said, taking up another handful of tinsel to drape over branches, even though Blaine had the whole thing mostly covered.
“ Last year last year?” Blaine asked, following him as he traveled around the tree.
“The RAF requires one year’s notice from all personnel wishing to transition back into civilian life,” he said. “I gave that notice last year, effective December thirty-first this year.”
“Oh,” Blaine said, looking surprised, and maybe excited. “So you wouldn’t be a soldier anymore?”
“I’d be in the reserves for a while, but to keep things simple, let’s say yes.”
He finished with the last of the tinsel and didn’t have anything else to do but face Blaine and explain more.
“What would you do instead of serving?” Blaine asked before he could get there.
“I don’t know,” Alfie admitted. “I’ve spent the last year trying to figure that out. I haven’t come to any conclusions.”
“Could you become a commercial airline pilot?” Blaine asked. “You flew those big planes, after all.”
“I definitely could,” Alfie said. “A lot of former RAF pilots do just that. But I don’t know…I feel like I want to go in a completely different direction. There were things that happened in my time in service, things that happened in Afghanistan, that I’d rather move away from.”
“Shit,” Blaine said, looking suddenly panicked. “Do you have PTSD or something? Does flying trigger you now or some shit like that?”
“No,” Alfie laughed, appreciating Blaine’s concern for him. “I did see things that I can’t unsee. It wasn’t all just a bed of roses during my service. But I’ve been in therapy over it all, and I’ve learned how to cope with it. Better than some, at least.”
“So what do you want to do, then?” Blaine took a small step closer to him.
Alfie shrugged. “That’s what I have to figure out. I thought I had time to plan the rest of my life, but December thirty-first is just around the corner, and…and now my commanding officer has come to me with an offer to accept a position as a commissioned officer instead of leaving.”
Blaine settled his weight on one hip in that way he had that made him look younger than Alfie thought he was. “But that would mean staying in the RAF, right?”
“And accepting an assignment in Cyprus,” Alfie said with a nod.
For the briefest of seconds, Blaine looked bereft. It was adorable and flattering.
The thing was, Alfie felt that pang at the thought of being separated from Blaine, too.
They’d only just met. He needed to keep reminding himself of that. Blaine was cute and just his type, and they got along well, but there was no way to tell if it was just a passing infatuation or if they had potential for more.
His heart tried to give him an answer to that unspoken question, but he ignored it. Blaine was the one who, evidently, got carried away by mistaking lust for affection. He couldn’t do that, too.
“What else do we need to decorate?” he asked, glancing around the room. It was a ploy to keep him from pulling Blaine into his arms and kissing him like he was heading off to Cyprus tomorrow. If he did that, it would have been motivated by his fear of the unknown and his need to find an anchor point so he could make a decision for his future.
“I…um….” Blaine’s voice was rough as he gazed up at Alfie, like he didn’t know what he should say next.
He didn’t have to figure it out. Three seconds later, at about the point when Alfie thought he was going to have to kiss Blaine just to break the awkwardness between them, a group of loud, chatty kids walked into the room along with Rhys Hawthorne.
“You can take your paintings to Mr. Blaine,” Rhys said, loud enough to indicate he knew he’d walked in on an intense moment. “He and Corporal Spears can tell you where they want to hang them.”
“Shit,” Blaine hissed under his breath, peeling away from Alfie. “I mean, shoot. I forgot Rhys’s class painted winter scenes that we’re going to use to decorate the room.”
“That’s a cute idea,” Alfie said, stepping away from Blaine as well and pretending nothing at all heated or sexual was going on between them.
It was next to impossible to pretend that.
“Hey, kids,” Blaine started forward with a too-loud voice to meet Rhys’s class. “Let’s see what you guys made.”
Alfie took a deep breath to clear away all his thoughts. None of them, not work and not how he felt about Blaine, were the sort of thoughts he should be having around kids. When he felt up to it, he put on a smile and started forward toward the table where the kids had gathered.
“Wow, these look amazing,” he said, adjusting to the voice and demeanor he used around children. “Did you do these?”
“We learned how to paint snow,” one of the girls said. She and the rest of the class looked like they were around eight or nine.
“Really? And how do you paint snow?” he asked, crouching a bit so he would be closer to their level.
“You use blue,” another of the boys said. “Not white.”
“Hey, I was going to say that,” the girl pouted.
“I’m sure you know something else about painting that you can tell me,” Alfie said, giving his attention to the girl.
The girl’s frown turned back into a smile. “You can use a fan brush,” she said. “And use light strokes, not blobs.”
“I didn’t know that,” Alfie said. “Thank you for teaching me. And what’s your name?”
“Anna,” the girl said, glowing with joy at being addressed by an adult.
“Like Anna and Elsa?” Alfie asked.
The girl looked stunned by his cartoon knowledge. “How did you know?” she asked in awe.
“I know a lot of things,” Alfie said, straightening. “Which one is your painting?”
As Anna pointed to her work, Alfie caught Blaine’s eyes across the table. Blaine was staring at him with a look of absolute adoration. That made Alfie smile right back at him. It never ceased to amaze him when people were surprised that a soldier could be good with kids.
“That’s very nice, Anna,” he said, still looking at Blaine.
“This one’s mine,” the boy said.
Alfie dragged his eyes away from Blaine to give his attention to the kids and their art. “You’ve done a really good job,” he said.
That opened the floodgates for the rest of the kids to point out which of the paintings was theirs. They were all eager to show off what they could do to Alfie, and Alfie was more than happy to listen to each of them brag and work to impress him.
He was impressed. He’d always been impressed by kids. They were so open and free with the way they viewed the world. They hadn’t been jaded by life yet, or at least most of them hadn’t.
As he helped Rhys and Blaine direct the kids as to where and how to hang their paintings on the wall so they would be on display for the party, memories of that girl from Afghanistan and so many other kids he’d seen watching him with everything from fear to anger to absolutely nothing in their eyes hovered around him. Those kids had grown up too soon. He really hoped they were all okay now, but sense told him that couldn’t be true for all of them.
“You know, you’re surprisingly good with kids,” Blaine told him after all the kids had left the dining hall to go back to their class, or probably all the way back to their school.
“Unexpected, I know,” Alfie said, rubbing the back of his neck to clear away the remnants of his feelings about those Afghani kids.
Blaine hummed and tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know. The more I think about it, the more I’m not shocked at all that kids like you. You have a calming presence.”
Alfie smiled. “Thanks. Coming from you, that means a lot.”
Blaine laughed. “A guy who likes kids but hates Christmas. You’re full of contradictions, Corporal Spears.”
Alfie grinned and nudged Blaine’s arm.
It was meant to be a playful gesture, but making contact with Blaine like that ignited something in him. He wanted more contact, more playfulness. He wanted more.
“Are you hungry?” Blaine asked, seemingly shifting gears.
“I’m starving,” Alfie said, throwing as much double-entendre into his words as he could.
Blaine flushed as his expression turned just as hungry. “You know, I’m staying in one of the flats here at Hawthorne House while I’m hiding from Dave and the disaster of my life. I think I have stuff to make sandwiches up there, if you want to come up for tea.”
“I’d love to,” Alfie said, wanting way more than a sandwich.
“Right this way,” Blaine said, his voice going rough.
He turned and headed out of the dining hall and into the noisy part of the house. Classes must have been switching over, because there were people everywhere. Alfie barely saw or heard any of them, though. He followed Blaine like he was a beacon, his heart beating faster with each step.
“My flat is just upstairs,” Blaine said, turning onto the grand staircase once they reached the front hall.
That quick turn, the glimpse it gave Alfie of Blaine’s heated face, and the expectation in Blaine’s eyes was enough to prompt Alfie to reach out and take Blaine’s hand. They continued up the stairs that way, probably telegraphing to everyone who might be watching them what was on the menu for tea that afternoon.
“I’m so grateful to Uncle Robert and Aunt Janice for converting all of these rooms that used to be part of the school dormitory into flats,” Blaine said, babbling a bit, as they walked down the family corridor, past another staircase, and on to the end of the hall. “It’s really convenient to have a home away from home when I need it.”
“Mmm hmm,” Alfie hummed, tightening his hold on Blaine’s hand as they reached one of the doors.
“It’s a nice thing to have when you’re part of such a big family,” Blaine went on. “Although we usually have to double up at Christmas, since the entire extended family likes to spend the holidays here.”
“Of course,” Alfie said as soon as Blaine took a key out of his pocket to unlock the door.
Blaine pushed the door open and led Alfie into the modest flat. It was simply decorated, but the furnishings looked comfortable. None of that modern, Scandinavian stuff. It felt homey as well, which may have had something to do with the original artwork on the walls. Even though it was a temporary home, Alfie could see Blaine’s things spread everywhere. It didn’t surprise him that Blaine was a bit of a slob. He didn’t mind, though. The military had given him enough neatness to last a lifetime.
“It’s not much, but it’s?—”
Alfie didn’t give him a chance to finish whatever cute thing he was going to say. He stepped right into Blaine, clasped his hands on either side of Blaine’s face, and slammed his mouth over his in the kiss he’d been wanting to take for days.