Chapter 25 #2
Then he’d given Beckett a blowjob that made him all but scream for more pleasurable reasons.
Anyway. Since he was down here, he may as well pull more weeds.
He did so, enjoying the brief moment of sun and quiet, until the robin’s demanding song spilled out sweet and golden and he heard a light scuff on the path ahead.
“Spoiled little thing, aren’t you?” he said, sitting back on his heels to dig around in his breeches pocket for more bread. “Come on, then, lordling. I’ve got what you want right here.”
He glanced up, looking for the robin. Instead of a feathered little body and beady black eyes, his gaze landed on a pair of buckled boots, traveled up slender legs, touched on hands clasped nervously over a flat midriff, and finally hit a pair of wary grey eyes.
Fucking shit timing, eh? So much for keeping out of his way.
Still, Beckett couldn’t do a thing to stop the wide smile that broke over his face at seeing his little omega right there in front of him.
Right where he should be.
Arden smiled back reflexively.
Beckett was going to hold on to that, he decided, and ignore the way that Arden just as reflexively tensed up as his smile faded.
Maybe this timing wasn’t so shit after all. Maybe this was the best way for him to encounter Arden again—on his knees. Beckett’s own smile faded but, unlike Arden’s, it didn’t vanish. He kept it soft.
Behind him the robin sang out shrilly, not at all pleased about sharing Beckett’s attention.
Oh. Beckett knew how to do this.
He’d been wondering how to win Arden back from the day he’d found him gone.
He’d have tried Marl’s flowers and poetry, gods help him.
He would have. Didn’t need to, though. While he didn’t have the first clue how to woo a shy omega, he was well-versed in charming wary, half-wild creatures who wanted to come closer for a treat but needed careful handling.
After all, wasn’t that exactly what Arden was?
He’d had the thought before, hadn’t he, back when he nearly went for Garvey when they were moving furniture and Garvey had been flapping his noise hole.
This time, it clicked.
He remained kneeling, giving Arden the height advantage. The robin flashed past to land in a nearby bush.
Beckett grinned and tipped his head in the robin’s direction though he didn’t look away from Arden. “Greedy little bastard,” he said, and winked.
Arden looked shocked then drew himself up.
Beckett’s grin widened. “The robin,” he said gently.
“Oh.”
Beckett tossed the crumbled bread and cheese onto the grass a few feet away. The robin darted down as if it had been shot from a sling. It danced about a bit, cautious, but couldn’t resist. It fluttered in, filled its beak, and was off in a whirr of wings.
Beckett rested his hands loosely on his thighs, and looked at Arden. He wanted to jump in. Hello. How are you? I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I missed you.
He kept his big mouth shut for once, and waited.
“Um,” Arden said, and fidgeted. He glanced over his shoulder quickly, and back at Beckett, telling him without words that Jack was near. “Hello.”
“Your Grace,” Beckett said.
“What…?” Arden fidgeted and dropped his gaze again. “What are you doing here?”
“Imposing,” Beckett said.
“Imposing?” Arden cocked his head.
“I chased Jack here. Probably shouldn’t have, but I got sick of being at Avendene all alone, so.
Went off to Sevennis and missed him by a day.
Decided to follow him.” He deliberately softened his posture again.
His muscles had slowly tightened, one by one, as his subconscious growled at him to get up, go over, take.
“Didn’t plan on you knowing I was here.”
Right, that was a misstep, going on the faint droop of Arden’s shoulders. Gods, he was an expressive little thing. “That’s what I meant by me imposing. Coming here when you don’t want me.”
“No,” Arden said loudly, and winced at the volume.
“No?” Beckett prompted.
“I do w-want you. Here.”
“You do?” Beckett wanted to hear it again.
“Yes.”
“That’s good.” At his words, which he hadn’t meant as praise but which Arden could take how he wanted, as far as Beckett was concerned, Arden blushed. “Very good,” Beckett said, delighted as Arden’s pretty rosy cheeks darkened further. “Jack won’t have to yell at me for it, then.”
“He wouldn’t yell at you, surely?”
Beckett raised an eyebrow. “If I did something to upset you again? Better believe he’d give me a right telling off, Your Grace.”
Arden came a step closer without seeming to realise it; it was a short little hop as he lifted a hand and lowered it just as quickly. “Arden,” he said. “You can…please call me Arden.”
“Yes?” Beckett said. “You sure, Your Grace?”
Arden came another step closer. The robin scolded him shrilly from the bushes, darted in front of him to snatch up the last of the scattered crumbs and cheese, and vanished in a flurry.
“Your Grace?” Beckett said.
“Yes. I’m sure. Please call me Arden.”
“Arden,” Beckett said, injecting the word with all the warmth and gentleness at his disposal. All the warmth and gentleness that had been missing the last few times he’d said his name.
When he hadn’t been invited to use it.
Arden did a terrible job of hiding his shiver of delight.
Beckett held out his hand.
Arden’s gaze flicked down to it and back to Beckett’s face.
Beckett flexed his fingers with a hint of command and Arden obediently stepped close enough to slide his hand shyly into Beckett’s.
Beckett’s heart kicked and he fought down the jagged impulse to haul Arden in, snatch him off his feet, roll on top of him, pin him to the ground.
Instead, he lifted Arden’s hand to his lips then at the last minute turned it in his grasp, and pressed his mouth, butterfly light, to the fine, warm skin of Arden’s inner wrist.
Then he did one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life.
He let go.
Arden’s hand hovered in the air between them, his eyes huge.
“Well,” Jack said behind him, snaking an arm around Arden’s waist and snugging up behind him. “Isn’t this a pretty picture?”
Beckett had watched Jack’s approach, but Arden lurched with surprise when Jack spoke.
“Jack,” he said breathlessly. “Beckett’s here.”
A little bubble of something bright fizzed in his chest at the way Arden said his name.
It was going to be all right.
Everything was going to be all right.
“I see that, my darling.” Jack rested his chin on the top of Arden’s head and gazed levelly at Beckett, who gave him a cheeky grin in return.
Arden’s eyes widened further.
“I wasn’t going to let him actually know I was here until you and I had talked it over,” Beckett said to Jack. “Sorry.”
Arden made a cross little noise.
“Couldn’t stay away, hmm?” Jack said with a smile. “I understand the feeling.”
Arden patted Jack’s arm.
Jack slid a hand around Arden’s throat and tipped his chin up. “We are talking about you,” he whispered.
Arden’s lips parted in surprise.
Jack directed his attention to Beckett. “You see?”
At the arousing sight of Jack moving Arden as he pleased, dwarfing him like that, Beckett had risen up onto his knees. He was trembling, ready to stand, to go over there and crush Arden between them, and—
Jack gave his head a tiny shake.
Beckett stilled.
“Really?” Arden said.
Beckett blew out a breath and dropped back to sitting on his heels. “Yeah.”
“I have to leave in a couple of hours,” Jack said to Beckett. “We’re taking a walk down to the beach first. Will you join us?”
“If His Grace—” Arden made that cross little noise again, and Beckett smoothly corrected, “—if Arden wants my company, then yes.”
“I do,” Arden said at once.
“Excellent,” Jack said.
“First, though, I’d like a moment alone with him.”
“With…? Sorry, with me or with Jack?” Arden said after a moment’s silence.
“You,” Beckett and Jack both said at the same time.
“All right,” he said with a hint of curiosity amid the unflattering reluctance.
“I’ll wait for you both at the gate,” Jack said.
He came out from behind Arden and strode over to Beckett, making sure that Arden got a clear view as Jack bent over Beckett and kissed him.
Beckett didn’t shove Jack away and scramble up to equal footing. He stayed where he was, let himself be kissed, and was rewarded for it by the approving gleam in Jack’s eyes and the gentle touch on his jaw before Jack strode off.