Chapter Nine #3
Terry found himself in a much better mood than he’d been in when they’d arrived. It’ll be okay, I’m sure of it. After all, he gave me his collar and said we’d have a ceremony this year. They hadn’t set an exact date, but they wanted to at least wait until it warmed up a bit.
Phil leaned closer, then spoke in a low voice, “I’m sorry I can’t feed you here. I’m going to miss it.”
Terry bumped his shoulder with his own. “Yeah, me too.”
They dug into their food, picking less intense topics to discuss while they ate.
Phil brought him up to date on some of the preproduction of the fantasy film he and Gerard were working on, and Terry asked some leading questions that he hoped would give him an opening for what he’d wanted to approach Phil about the night Marco had shown up.
Phil pushed his plate away as he wiped his mouth. He regarded Terry. “What’s on your mind, baby? You’ve never been as interested in the financial aspects of things before. I sense you’re trying to tell me something.”
Terry moved his own empty dish to the side. “It seems like it’s one of those nights.”
“One of those nights?”
“Yeah. When a lot of things get talked out, decisions are made and so on.”
Phil arched his eyebrows. “Okay. You’ve got my attention.” Phil chuckled. “Or should I say, extra attention.”
“You see, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. And now that you and Gerard are doing so well, and you’re back to producing again, I was wondering how you’d feel about me returning to working on portraits only, you know, after I finish the latest series I’m on.”
Phil rubbed his chin, then slowly nodded. “Is this something your heart is telling you to do?”
“Yes. I don’t mind working on film sets, but it’s not my passion.
When I first dreamed of being a photographer, it was all about portraits, my ability to draw something out of a person and capture it on film, something they’d never let the world see before, yet it would be me who would bring it alive.
There’s a certain skill needed for location shots, or cast shoots, but it’s not the same.
” His face heated but he had no idea why what he was about to confess should embarrass him when he knew how much joy it would bring to Phil.
“Plus, I’d rather work from the house, so I can be there to take care of our home. ”
Phil’s eyes glimmered. “And this is what you truly want?”
“Yes, it is. Very much.”
Phil leaned in and touched their lips together before drawing back. “Then it’s what you shall have.”
Inside, Terry was bouncing up and down. But he managed to control himself on the outside in the upscale eatery. “Thank you. This is so cool, I can finally live the life I’ve always wanted.”
“Good. I want you to be happy with your career.”
Terry shook his head, not wanting Phil to misunderstand. “That’s just a small part of it. I meant the whole package, living with the man I love while we build a life together, and working from home in my dream job—what else could I ever want?”
Phil reached into his suit jacket while Terry reached for his glass to finish off the last bit of wine in the bottom. Terry took a mouthful right as Phil popped open a small black box with a shiny gold ring perched on the velvet interior.
“Will you marry me, baby?”
Wine splattered Phil’s shirt and at first, Terry couldn’t imagine why. Then he realized he’d been the culprit.
“Oh my God. Oh my God, I’m sorry.” Terry snatched up his dinner napkin in a fluster and knocked over his water glass, more liquid adding to the mess Terry had already made when he’d sprayed his wine all over Phil.
Terry froze in mid-dab, the napkin he’d been using to sop up the mess he made hovering over his soaked Master. “Wait. Could you repeat that? I think I might be losing my mind. I could swear you just asked me to marry you.”
Two servers picked that moment to rush to their aid, demonstrating utmost professionalism as they removed the soiled tablecloth, cleared away their plates and glasses, then brought them fresh water.
While the waiters fussed over them, Phil clasped their fingers together.
He leaned closer, speaking against his ear.
“I’ll say it again and again if only to hear you say yes.”
Terry bowed his head. Spilling tears in front of the restaurant staff wasn’t his main concern, but if he said one word, gazed into Phil’s eyes, he knew he’d fall apart.
I never dreamed he’d want this with me. When Phil had given him the collar, Terry had honestly believed that would be how they would marry each other.
He’d assumed their collaring ceremony would mean the same to Phil—perhaps even more—than a legal wedding.
And he was perfectly happy with that because he’d become as serious about the lifestyle as Phil was.
But the moment Phil had shown him the ring and proposed, something broke open inside him. He wants everything with me.
“Baby? Should we leave, or should I tell them to bring the champagne?”
Terry screwed his eyes shut, squeezing the tears away, then inhaled a shaky breath. He lifted his gaze and held Phil’s eyes. “The champagne.” He broke into a grin. “Definitely the champagne.”