CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO #3
Jules frowns. ‘I’m still mad at you.’
‘What’s new? Either you go in right now, or I’ll carry you in bridal style.’
‘You wouldn’t.’ Lachlan sighs heavily and makes a big show of pulling off his jacket. Jules steps away, glancing back at Roman and Savannah on the shore. ‘OK, OK, fine! Fucking hell, Bodyguard. I’ll go.’
Biting back a satisfied smile, Lachlan watches as Jules walks slowly out, can almost feel the cold, salty water on his own ankles, then knees, then waist. When Jules dives under, Lachlan closes his eyes, tries to imagine how that must feel for the first time, how exquisitely beautiful.
When Jules emerges, he has this look of pure joy on his face. All jealousy and insecurity has been wiped clean. He’s relaxed, seems so at home. For the first time, Lachlan’s fears loosen just a fraction.
Lachlan stands on the shore, just far back enough that the waves can’t touch his boots and watches the boy he loves swim in the sea for the first time.
Jules swims for a while, seems to have no desire to come in yet so Lachlan goes back to the other two, just checking in mostly.
Roman is painting Savannah’s toenails a silvery shade of blue. Lachlan does his best to give them privacy, standing in front and to the left, watching the water, watching Jules swim, watching that boy always for reasons that settle into his DNA and take hold, bonding, forming, adapting.
Lachlan is made to adapt, he’s capable of that.
He watches until they’re called back for lunch.
?
Lachlan eats while Jules showers in the en-suite.
He’d typically try to eat at least once a day with Mimi, but otherwise he’s used to going to the kitchens and grabbing whatever, whenever. He misses hanging out with Vasily in the kitchens while he ate. He misses Blaire. He misses Danya. He misses his princess so much it’s making his ribs ache.
The kitchen in this place is wide open.
He makes himself a very basic sandwich, refuses the staff’s offer to cook something or set a plate aside for him from the more impressive lunch they’re serving soon for the guests.
A sandwich is fine. He consumes the whole thing in four bites, drains a glass of water and heads out. Roman is waiting for him outside the kitchen.
‘Hey,’ he says, ‘I wanted to apologise.’
Lachlan waves him off. ‘Nothing to apologise for.’
‘No, Ana is right. I am a dick. Sorry.’
Lachlan offers a brief smile, looks around. ‘You’re all good.’
‘I should not provoke him.’
‘You didn’t.’
Roman inclines his head. ‘No, I did. I know I did. It is hard for me too. Not like how it is for them but seeing how it will be soon is difficult.’
‘You like her?’ Lachlan asks despite himself, already knows the answer. Roman was blushing the whole time he painted Savannah’s toenails.
‘I do, yes. We spent much time together as children. Her mother would leave her with us for whole winters.’ Roman smiles in a secret little way. ‘They were my favourite kind.’ He sighs, smile fading into seriousness. ‘This is hard for us all. I do not need to make it worse.’
‘Can I ask, did you ever spend time with Jules as a kid?’
‘No, not really. We would only come for parties once or twice a year.’
‘And Savannah?’
‘Same, I think. Is why I feel bad,’ he adds, frowning to himself. ‘Jules has less friends than either of us. This is his first time away from his home. Ana and I travel all the time. He’d never even been in the ocean.’ Roman shakes his head. ‘No more being a dick, I promise.’
‘Good lesson, well learnt,’ Lachlan says, pats him on the shoulder. ‘Listen, will you do me a favour?’
‘Of course.’
‘I know it sounds stupid but just try to stay with Savannah for me?’
Roman nods seriously. ‘I will. Oh, and Papa wants to speak to you today,’ he adds, turning away. ‘Find him whenever you have a moment.’
‘Heard.’
Jules is dressed by the time Lachlan makes it back up to his room. Annoyingly, the balcony doors are wide open, letting a warm breeze fill the space with the gorgeous scent of salty sea air.
‘I told you to keep these closed.’
‘It’s broad daylight.’
‘I once decapitated a man under the midday sun with a butter knife,’ Lachlan fires off, irritated that he disobeyed. ‘Danger doesn’t shy from light.’
‘That was vivid.’
Lachlan closes and locks the door, hesitating only a beat before he asks Jules, ‘Did you tell Roman about us?’
Jules shrugs. ‘He already knew. Why?’
‘I need to know if you told him or if we’re being too obvious.’
‘Does it bother you that he knows?’
‘This has to be kept secret.’
‘Does it bother you that he knows?’
Lachlan rolls his eyes. ‘Fucking seriously?’
‘Answer the question, Bodyguard.’
‘I don’t want Roman Sorrenko.’
‘You like him.’
‘Yes.’
‘You respect him.’
‘Jules.’
‘He’s older than me and he’s braver. You trust him.’
‘I’m not in the mood and there are bigger things than your bullshit rich kid inferiority complex. I don’t like him like that. Get over it.’
Jules frowns, visibly hurt.
Lachlan was too harsh, knows it instantly.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Whatever.’
‘No, listen—’
Jules doesn’t listen.
He pushes past.
Goes to lunch.
Lachlan feels like shit all day.