Chapter 10
“OKAY. THANKS, Cotten, I understand. There really isn’t any way you can do the photoshoot with your arm in a sling. Don’t worry about it. I hope you feel better, and I’ll see you on Monday.” They spoke for a few minutes more, and then he hung up.
Connor called Sterling, but it went right to voicemail. Great. He was supposed to be at his place in half an hour, and the other half of April wasn’t going to be able to make it. They were a person short, and Connor wasn’t sure where he was going to find someone to fill in, let alone in the next half hour.
Connor grabbed the garment bag he had already prepared and carried it out to his car. Maybe Sterling would have some ideas. He locked the house and drove over to Sterling’s, grabbed the clothes, and headed inside. Laughter greeted him as soon as he entered, and Grant came around from the studio with Connor’s great-aunt next to him.
“A little birdie told me that today was your photoshoot, and I wanted to be here to support you,” Aunt Lucille said innocently. Connor knew she was anything but. Somehow, she had decided to butt into the process.
“You just couldn’t stay away?” he asked her. “Damned matchmaking granny… or auntie.” He narrowed his gaze, but she simply flashed him a look of complete confusion that Connor knew was as fake as her hair color.
“Where’s your partner for this little shindig?” she asked.
Fortunately Sterling joined them at that point.
Connor locked his gaze onto Sterling’s. “Cotten broke his arm, and it’s in a cast and sling. He’s in pain and isn’t going to be able to do the shoot. Apparently it’s pretty bad.”
“How did it happen?” Sterling asked.
Connor glanced to the others and then back to Sterling. “Well, it seems his wife found the calendar idea really exciting… if you know what I mean. They were making good on that excitement, and things got a little out of hand. From what I understand, Cotten’s wife likes a little role-play.” This was so damned embarrassingly fun, especially in front of his great-aunt and Sterling’s father. “I don’t know all the details and really don’t need to. But it seems that things got a little slippery and they weren’t careful enough, and he fell….” Connor tried to keep it serious and matter-of-fact. “Well, he tried to catch himself and broke his arm. The thing was….” He stepped closer to Sterling and lowered his voice. “In order to set his arm, the hospital had to….” Connor could barely keep it together. “Carrie was really into it, and when he got hurt, she couldn’t find the key to the collar-and-hood piece he was wearing….”
His great-aunt broke first, followed by Grant, their laughter spilling through the whole group. “My goodness. I bet the emergency room people were shocked,” Aunt Lucille said.
Connor shrugged. “According to him, they cut him out of the paraphernalia, set his arm, and sent him home. Carrie, on the other hand, forgot she was still in her leather corset and apparently raced into the emergency room with her riding crop slipped into the pocket along the side of her boot.” He couldn’t hold it in any longer and doubled over. Poor Sterling was crying, he was laughing so hard. “The ER staff asked Cotten at least a dozen times if his wife had hurt him on purpose, and one nurse whispered that she could quietly call someone if he needed help and was too afraid to ask for it in front of his wife. Cotten is six two, and his wife is about five foot and weighs maybe a hundred pounds.”
“And he told you all this?” Sterling asked.
“Well….” Connor snickered.
“No way. You liar.” Sterling lunged for him, grabbing Connor and tickling him until his knees gave out and he slumped to the floor. “You made all that up.”
“It was a much better story than him slipping in the shower.” He squirmed to get away, but Sterling held him tighter. “We have things to figure out.” Connor wasn’t sure if the tickling would return, and he’d just as soon avoid it if possible.
“Yes,” his great-aunt said, straightening up. “Your story was quite funny. But we have a problem. If Cotten has a broken arm, then we don’t have our last model.” Connor knew that look. She was amused but shifting to all business.
“Okay. Let me think,” Sterling said as he went to his computer. “I could call one of the other guys to see if they’ll pose with you for the last image. We could change his hair and he’d be dressed differently. With some creative lighting, maybe people wouldn’t notice.” He began looking through the other images. “Maybe Billy or Sebastian. They were good, and with a little styling….”
“You do it,” Aunt Lucille said. “You pose with Connor. He has the kilts with him, and the two of you could do it. I’ve taken plenty of pictures in my life, and if you set up the shots, I can take them.”
“When did you work as a photographer?” Connor asked.
Aunt Lucille sauntered up to him. “Honey, at my age, there are plenty of things I’ve done that you don’t know about—and just for future reference, if you decide to tell that story again, collars generally have quick-release links for safety reasons.” She turned to Sterling, and Connor stared after her, suddenly unable to breathe. “We should get started. Why don’t you set things up while Connor goes to change? Then he can help you into the kilt and we can get moving.”
Sterling looked like he had whiplash. “I….”
Connor took his arm. “Trust me. Don’t fight it. You’ll only lose, and it isn’t worth the effort.” He leaned closer. “Besides, it’ll be really hot.”
Sterling snorted. “Really. You and me, posing only in kilts for the calendar, with your great-aunt behind the camera. Yeah, that’s going to be as hot as Alaska in January.” He rolled his eyes.
“Come on. Just ignore her and your father and….” He saw Sterling’s point. The other pictures were truly electric, and the couples had chemistry. Even the two straight guys had gotten into it and connected with each other. “We’ll do the best we can.” He picked up the garment bag. “Go get things set up, and I’ll change.” There really was no use fighting her. When Aunt Lucille got something into her head, particularly when she was convinced she was right, there was no moving her. They just needed to get out of the way.
CONNOR STEPPED out of the bathroom in his best kilt, sash over his bare shoulder and across his chest. He wasn’t sure if that was what would work, but he thought he’d give it a try. Connor had left one of his other kilts for Sterling. The one he wore was traditional for his clan, and the other was a universal tartan, but he thought the colors would look good together.
“Very nice, son,” Grant said.
“Thanks, Grant. I hope this is what Sterling was looking for.” He entered the studio area. Sterling was adjusting the lights, and he stopped, his gaze falling onto Connor like a weight. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“I left yours in the bathroom if you’re ready to change. I can help you with it to ensure it’s worn properly.”
“Okay.” Sterling’s voice was short and tight. Connor waited until he was done before accompanying him to the bathroom. Sterling stripped off his clothes. “Do you really wear nothing under?”
“No. I do because I wear them to school. Some guys don’t. I think it’s a personal preference.” Sterling kept his briefs on, and Connor helped him into the kilt, ensuring the overlap was across the front with the end at the right side. “I don’t have a sash for that one.”
“It’s okay. The difference will be good.” He fussed with the fabric. “This feels weird to me.” Sterling turned to try to look over his shoulder.
“What? You afraid the kilt will make your butt look big?” Connor teased. “Come on, you look stunning.” He placed his hand on Sterling’s chest. “You look really hot.” He closed the distance between them. “Maybe I should have told you to wear nothing.” He ran his hand up Sterling’s leg. “Easy access is really something.”
Sterling shivered. “You know your great-aunt and my father are going to wonder what we’re doing, and one of them is going to come check that we’re okay.” That was definitely a ball-shriveling idea.
Still, Connor sucked lightly at the base of Sterling’s neck. “But I like it in here. It’s quiet, we’re alone, you’re sexy as hell, and….”
A loud throat clearing on the other side of the door had Connor pulling away.
“That’s perfect. I think you look great.” Connor straightened his own kilt and the sash before opening the door and stepping out. Sterling came after him, passing Grant on their way to the studio.
Aunt Lucille stood near the camera as he stepped in front of the background. “I have these,” she said, handing Connor a bouquet of cream-colored peonies. “They should be wonderful.”
Sterling joined him and got Connor into position. Then he checked the viewfinder before handing Lucille the camera and stepping onto the mat himself. “I’m not sure how this is going to work, so we’ll take it slow.” He changed his mind and turned the monitor to face them. “That’s better.” Sterling got into position, standing with Connor, the flowers between them.
Aunt Lucille took a number of pictures, and Sterling adjusted their positions after each one. Sterling wasn’t comfortable, and neither was Connor. The ease they shared in the bedroom did not translate to the camera. He kept watching Lucille and then his father. Connor picked up on Sterling’s tension, and it only added to his own.
The last time he had been in front of the camera, it had been him and Sterling playing, just the two of them, and eventually he’d gotten comfortable, but that wasn’t happening this time. Connor was uneasy and kept thinking about his great-aunt watching him.
“This isn’t working at all,” Sterling finally pronounced, and Connor took the flowers and stepped away, placed them in a vase, and sat down.
“Tell me about it. You two are as jumpy as a virgin at an orgy,” Grant observed.
“That isn’t helping, Dad,” Sterling countered.
“Smile, for goodness’ sake. A real smile. Not those forced ones you’ve been flashing at that camera. It’s like you’re both holding dead fish rather than flowers, and when you look at each other, there’s nothing.” He stalked toward Sterling. “This is a handsome guy. You should be attracted to him, want to jump his bones or whatever it is two guys do. It certainly didn’t look like that.”
“I’m not comfortable in front of the camera,” Sterling countered.
Grant shrugged. “Big fucking deal. It’s one picture. Whoop-de-doo. What do you tell your sitters when they’re not comfortable? You get them used to the camera and make them comfortable. Do that to yourself. And if that happens, Connor will respond to it, because he’s picking up on your nerves.” Man, he was a little up in Sterling’s face. “You can do this, boy. I know you can. Just make it work.”
Sterling’s shoulders slumped, and Connor stood next to him. “It will be okay. Maybe it’s the location. Let’s try outside in the yard—change the location and the energy.” He leaned close. “Just let go of whatever is holding you back. You look amazing, and we’re going to take good pictures. I promise you that.”
“Whatever you think,” Sterling said.
Connor wondered if there was something else wrong. “Would you give us a second?” he asked the other two.
“Let’s go have some tea,” Aunt Lucille offered, and Grant led the way out of the studio and into the main house.
“What’s really bothering you? I know you weren’t expecting to do this. Is it the sudden change?” Connor grabbed a chair and sat across from him.
“I’ve never wanted to be in front of the camera,” he said in almost a whisper.
“This is up to you. If you don’t want to do it, then don’t. I’ll try to find someone else.” Connor leaned forward, and Sterling clutched his hands tightly.
“I don’t want you to do it with anyone else. That’s the problem. I don’t feel comfortable in front of the camera, and yet I don’t want anyone else to pose with you while you’re half dressed. I know it’s dumb, but there it is.” He sighed loudly.
“Then you need to decide what you want more,” Connor told him gently. “Figure out what it is you really want and then join me outside.” He stood and grabbed one of the chairs. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.” Connor wasn’t sure what Sterling would decide, but it was up to him. If he didn’t want to be photographed with Connor, then it was his decision.
“Sweetheart,” Aunt Lucille said as she came out the back door. She must have been watching and was ready to swoop in and come to the rescue.
“I’m fine.” He smiled to cover his worry. “Sterling has some things he needs to figure out.”
“Like when he’s going to grow a set of balls and listen to his heart?” she snapped, and Connor groaned, but he couldn’t argue with her.
“When did you start talking that way?” he quizzed. “I don’t remember you swearing so much.”
Aunt Lucille lowered herself into one of the cushioned patio chairs and slowly sat back. “Most things about getting old suck. You can’t do the things you always loved, everything hurts most of the time, the best foods repeat on you something awful, and going to the bathroom can be an occasion. But one of the good things is that you get to say the things you always wanted to and be damned. I never swore in front of any of my nieces or nephews or any of you kids. But fuck that. I spent a lot of years biting my tongue. I wanted to tell your father he was a stupid piece-of-shit jackass for how he treated you, and I wanted to tell my brother that he was as smart as a box of rocks. But I kept quiet. Now I don’t have to do that shit anymore.” She drank from her glass of iced tea, and Grant came out to join them, sitting next to Aunt Lucille. They clinked glasses in some kind of silent toast and then drank, smiling at each other. For a split second, Aunt Lucille looked the way she must have when she was in her twenties.
Connor wasn’t sure he wanted to see his great-aunt smitten with anyone and did his best to put it out of his mind.
“What’s he doing?” Aunt Lucille asked Grant, who shrugged.
“Sterling needs to few minutes to make up his mind about something.” They drank their tea, and Connor watched the studio door.
Finally it opened, with Sterling stepping out, still in the kilt, carrying the camera. “You still up for this?” he asked and handed it to Lucille. “The pictures will automatically transmit back to the studio system, but out here there isn’t going to be a screen. We’ll review the shots later.” He turned, surveying the garden. “How about over there? It has a great background with the tree and the ivy.”
Connor got up and took the chair with him. “I have an idea. Okay?”
“Have at it,” Sterling agreed.
Connor set the chair off center from the large trunk. The background was deep green and lush, and he liked it. Grant went inside and returned with the flowers, which he handed to Sterling. “What are we doing?”
“Aunt Lucille, stand right here. Sterling, sit down and hold the flowers.” Connor arranged the kilt so it fell open just enough to show some of Sterling’s leg and hid the chair. Then he stood behind him, squatting slightly and leaning forward, sliding his arms around Sterling’s shoulders and down his impressive chest. “Go ahead and start,” he told Lucille, who began taking pictures. Ignoring her completely, Connor leaned close to Sterling. Click… click.
“Forget her and everything else but me. Think about how good this picture is going to be and what you and I are going to do tonight once this is over and I get to have you all to myself.” He whispered so only Sterling could hear and slid his hands lower, resting one on Sterling’s belly and the other on the flowers. Click. He turned slightly so he could see Sterling, who shifted toward him. Click… click… click. Connor raised his gaze and slid his free hand to the side, resting his arm against Sterling’s chest. Click… click.
“Okay, boys,” Aunt Lucille said. “You can stop eye-fucking one another. Good God, get a room. I don’t know how much of this my old heart can take.” She handed Sterling the camera and sat down in her seat before draining half her glass of tea.
Connor didn’t move, watching over Sterling’s shoulder as he quickly reviewed the images. “These are still transmitting. We’ll need to look at them on the larger screen.” He set the camera aside, and Connor straightened up. He could use something cool to drink—hell, maybe a beer… or four. Sterling took the camera inside, returned with two bottles, and handed one to him.
“When can we look at them?” Aunt Lucille asked.
“In a few minutes. I want to give them all a chance to transmit. They’re big, detailed files, so it always takes a little bit, especially from out here. It will be faster now that the camera is closer.”
Aunt Lucille tapped her foot, and Sterling took a pull of his beer and then went back inside. He must have checked the pictures, because when he returned, he was grinning and handed Connor a tablet. “Take a look.”
Connor went through all of them from the first session in the studio and then outside. The outside pictures were much better, and as the images changed, they got hotter and more intense. He kept thinking he had the image until he got to the last one with his bare arm resting on Sterling’s chest, their hands clasped around the flowers. Sterling’s eyes burned, but it was Connor’s own image that stopped him cold. He closed his eyes and turned away from the naked emotion on display.
“That’s the one!” Sterling nearly knocked the tablet out of his hand.