Chapter 11 #2
Art’s hands froze for a moment. Ryan still hadn’t fessed up with the whole story of why he left Giorgio Esposito’s fashion house.
The answer was obvious to Art, of course.
Some sort of sexual impropriety had probably happened.
Something that was former-grad-student-on-top-while-lounging-beside-a-pool level of scandal.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Art asked, or rather purred against Ryan’s ear as he slid his arms down over his chest to hug him.
“No,” Ryan snapped without any humor at all. “I want to finish these designs so that I actually have something to show to the seamstress I’m supposed to have a meeting with this afternoon.”
Part of Art was tempted to pull back in offense and feel hurt because of Ryan’s rejection. A whole other part of him felt deeply sorry for the stress his crush was under.
He reached for one of the more complete designs on the table and picked up the paper. It was a rather fetching pantsuit with unique lines that drew attention to the shoulders.
“This looks really good,” he said.
Ryan sighed and some of the tension left his body. “It isn’t good enough. This show needs to wow people, utterly blow them out of the water.”
“Why?” Art asked, letting go of the paper and Ryan so he could pivot and stand directly beside Ryan.
Ryan looked up at him sullenly. “Because if I don’t turn heads in September, my career is over.”
“Is that true?” Art asked, doubting it.
Ryan looked like he wanted to argue that yes, it was. Instead, he puffed out a breath, rubbed his face, and said, “I don’t know. Fashion is a fickle business. People don’t get second chances.”
“Unless they’re talented,” Art pointed out. “If you ask me, I bet anything you put out will impress people because they’ll know how quickly you put it together. That has to be a stepping stone to other things. Raise eyebrows now, knock socks off later.”
Ryan stared at Art with a look Art couldn’t read. He was convinced he’d said the wrong thing until Ryan said, “You’re not supposed to be this serious and brilliant. You’re supposed to be a saucy fuckboi.”
Art broke into a smile. “I am a saucy fuckboi,” he said, tempted to sit on the edge of Ryan’s table, but uncertain whether it would hold his weight. “I’m also a university professor with a PhD and a wealth of experience under my sassy belt.”
He’d spoken too seriously, despite trying to be funny. Ryan gazed up at him with an entirely new emotion in his eyes. It was hot and yearning, and if Art didn’t know any better, he would have said it was love.
Which was why he wasn’t entirely certain of his own motivations when he dipped forward, planting a quick kiss on Ryan’s slack lips, and said, “I’m heading out to the garden to check on our boy.”
Ryan closed his mouth and blinked rapidly. Art hoped he hadn’t broken his man’s brain by alluding to the throuple situation staring them in the face. He wasn’t sure if Ryan had come around to the idea yet.
Graeme was nowhere in the same universe of the idea of making a consensual threesome.
Art kept that in mind as he left Ryan to his work and wandered out to the garden.
Just as Janice had said, Graeme had stripped to the waist, even though the day was typically overcast, and was more than a little dirty and sweaty.
The sight of him slamming his shovel into the ground to dig out turf in one of the marked-out sections of the developing walking garden was enough to make it uncomfortable for Art to walk the last few yards over to him.
“I can’t decide which of you needs a blow job to relax more,” he opened his conversation with Graeme, who had been too focused to see him coming. After Graeme jumped and twisted to face him, he added, “You’re both wound tighter than super tightly wound things.”
“Art,” Graeme said breathlessly, smiling and wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his gardening glove, which just smeared more dirt near his golden, sweat-matted hair.
God, he wanted to bend Graeme over a barrel and fuck him so hard! Then he wanted to encourage the green young man to go all power-top on his arse.
“How is our little garden-slash-excavation site coming along?” he asked, sauntering the last few feet up to Graeme with a wicked grin.
“It’s—”
As Graeme started to answer, Art swiped a finger across Graeme’s sweat-glittering chest then sucked on his finger. He really wasn’t a fan of the taste of sweat, but he was all on board with the shocked look that came to Graeme’s eyes and the twitch of movement in Graeme’s work trousers.
“I…er…the garden…um….” Graeme was completely flustered, and Art loved it. “Everything’s coming along nicely,” he finally managed to push out, voice hoarse.
Art laughed. “You’re so easy to tease, love,” he said, stepping flush against Graeme, snaking his hand around to grab the back of his trousers’ waistband, and planting a kiss on Graeme’s startled lips.
He was more than a little surprised when Graeme kissed him back, seemingly on instinct. Even Ryan hadn’t done that when he’d surprised him with a kiss just minutes before. Graeme seemed ready to throw himself into things.
Until he wasn’t.
“Uh, oh, I’m sorry,” he said, jerking back and squirming self-consciously. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” Art asked with a shrug, making eyes at Graeme to let him know he could do more.
“It’s not…we’re not…Ryan….”
Art’s smile widened. “Love, I think you and I and he all know where this is heading.”
Graeme looked at him like a deer caught unawares. Which was proof that he wasn’t quite there yet.
“By any chance have you found anything in your digging that might add to a particularly juicy and exciting write-up I plan to put together for my head of department?” he asked, deliberately stepping back, both physically and figuratively.
“Dean Renfer called me into his office to sit in his naughty chair this morning. And let me tell you, it’s not the kind of naughty chair I like. ”
“Oh,” Graeme said, blinking. He worked his mouth wordlessly for a few seconds before flinching slightly, his whole demeanor changing. “Actually, yes.”
He put his shovel down and headed over to the far end of the garden plot, where the ruins stood.
Graeme’s original design had been altered to give Art plenty of space for his excavation.
Those plans now also took the ruins into consideration and made them a feature of that part of the garden.
At least, in theory. It would take some time for Art to complete his work, and to be honest, whether the university agreed or not, he was going to drag that work out as long as possible, but once it was done, that section of the garden would be planted around the ruins.
The southeastern corner of the gamekeeper’s cottage had been completely uncovered in the last few weeks. Art had found mostly charred boards and rubble in that corner. Sitting atop the rough, worn foundation stones was a rather pretty brooch.
As Graeme bent to pick it up, Art shamelessly leered at the generous curve of his backside. He did it in such a way that Graeme would notice exactly what he was staring at when he straightened and turned to offer him the brooch.
Their eyes met. Art grinned heatedly at him. Graeme blushed and gave Art the sweetest, shiest smile of interest he’d ever seen. They were definitely moving along in their dance, that much was certain.
“I don’t know if it was lost in the fire or at some other time,” Graeme said, stepping closer to Art to hand the brooch over. “It’s pretty, though.”
“Yes,” Art said, joining his hand with Graeme’s around the brooch instead of taking it entirely. He stared deep into Graeme’s eyes and said, “It’s very pretty indeed.”
Graeme gulped slightly, his gaze slipping from Art’s eyes to his lips. He licked his own lips, seeming to waver with indecision.
“I know you and Ryan were intimate in Cornwall,” Art said, low and husky, and surprisingly clean, considering the words he wanted to use. “I feel terribly left out,” he finished.
Graeme made a sound and leaned in, like he was going to kiss Art, but Ryan’s sudden call of “Who wants to go into London with me?” from the other side of the garden broke the two of them apart.
It was a testament to where they were all heading that Ryan didn’t react outwardly to the fact that Art and Graeme were so obviously getting it on. At least in a small way. Art stepped back and grinned at him as if to say, “You’re not the only one who can tease our boy”.
Graeme was visibly flustered, though. “Sorry,” he said, fidgeting with nothing and shifting from one foot to the other, trying to keep a respectable distance from Art and from Ryan as well, once he joined them. “Sorry.”
Art ignored the pointless apology and made certain Ryan ignored it as well by asking Ryan, “Why are you going into London?”
Ryan must have been on the same page as him.
Without any sort of awkwardness and with only a quick, neutral glance at Graeme, he said, “I have a meeting with the head seamstress for the sewing team I’ve hired this afternoon, but I want to visit a fabric warehouse to see if I can find any ideas there before I meet her. ”
“I just got here from London,” Art said. “And Graeme only just found this lovely brooch that is begging to be researched.”
He gestured to Graeme, who still held the brooch. Graeme flinched slightly, then handed the brooch over.
“Thank you, love,” Art said with a wink. He then turned to Ryan and said, “Our lovely Graeme will go with you.”
“I—” Graeme glanced between the two of them, his cheeks pink and his eyes filled with indecision. “I’m a mess.”
“You can have a shower, change into something more comfortable, and be comfortably ensconced in Ryan’s passenger seat before you know it,” Art said.
“You’re welcome to use my shower,” Ryan said, grinning like he knew what Art was up to.
“I should work.” Graeme glanced past them both to the piles of dirt that would one day soon be a gorgeous garden.
“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” Art said, shifting to stand slightly behind Art and giving him a gentle smack on his backside.
“Go on, sweetheart. Go help our Ryan, who, I might add, is desperately stressed out and in need of emotional support,” he added in a whisper right next to Graeme’s ear.
That seemed to settle things for Graeme. “Alright,” he said.
“Shower’s this way,” Ryan said, gesturing for Graeme to precede him to the house.
He glanced over his shoulder as the two of them walked on, though, sending Art a cheeky grin.
Art just laughed and winked at him. There was no way that Renfer would approve, and there was an outside chance his job was at stake if the man ever found out he was courting two men at once, but he didn’t care.
He was falling hard and fast in double love.