Page 49 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
A light but insistent shake woke him up. For a moment he wasn’t sure where he was, his brain too foggy to grasp anything.
“I hate to disturb your well-earned rest, but my arm’s going numb. Plus, you’re dribbling. From your mouth and elsewhere. And snoring.”
Dribbling and snoring? Oh, jeez…
Lucian laughed.
“If that’s an English sense of humor, it’s not funny,” Arlo growled, trying his best to sound pissed, but he wiped at his lips just to make sure.
“But seriously, my arm really is going numb.”
Arlo rolled off Lucian, but not away. Lying next to him, he trailed his fingers over Lucian’s face, before sweeping his sweat soaked hair from his brow. Lucian turned his head to him and smiled. It was soft, and dreamy, loose and relaxed, and with a jolt Arlo knew he wanted Lucian to look at him like that again, and again. You’re not meant to be alone… Francine’s words burrowed through the hard bone of his chest, through his rib cage, and into his heart, coming to rest in its deepest, darkest place. Maybe he wouldn’t be alone. Not now.
“I really have had a wonderful day, even if the last part was a bit shit.”
Arlo refused to rise to the bait. “Yeah.” He affected what he hoped was a considering, thoughtful expression. “That good, huh? I’d give that a ten out of a hundred. On a good day. Which it wasn’t.”
Lucian’s answering laugh was cool water on a hot day, and all Arlo wanted to do was to drink it in and never stop.
“I suppose we’d better…” Lucian gave a lethargic wave of his hand toward their bodies.
Arlo supposed so too, but neither of them moved, content just to lie together, their touch no longer heated but sated and content.
A harder breeze, edged with a chill, finally provoked them into moving. Pulling on jeans, they zipped and buckled up. Lucian yawned and rubbed his eyes. Arlo grabbed the chance.
“Will you come home with me tonight?” So I can take you to bed, and wake up with you in the morning…
“Oh god, I’d love to, but I promised Bibi I’d make a bouquet and displays for a wedding on Monday. It’s a rush job, and I need to go in early. The groom-to-be is in the military, and he’s going on a tour of duty almost straight after.”
“But it’s Sunday tomorrow. Can’t Bibi do it? She’s a florist and it’s her business.” Arlo tried to sound reasonable, but wasn’t sure he was succeeding.
“She may own the business, but she’s a truly terrible florist. God alone knows where she trained, if she even did. The happy couple deserve to remember their big day with joy, not horror. But,” he said, looking down at his feet, toeing at a clump of tufty grass, “I should be free by about 1:00pm. If you are, that is. And if you’d like to meet for, erm, whatever?”
Arlo’s heart flipped and flipped again. What had Francine called Lucian? Ardorkable. Lucian Arbuthnot Blaxston was adorkable in bucket and barrel loads.
“I’m free. I’ll meet you at Bibi’s.” Even if he wasn’t, he’d damn well cast aside anything to make sure he was.
They made their way to the path leading down to the pickup, Arlo’s flashlight illuminating the way. Just before they descended, Lucian stopped.
“My glasses. I’ve left them behind.”
“Wait here, I’ll get them.” Arlo rushed back, the flashlight picking them out on the ground. Maybe he could suggest Lucian give contact lenses a try. Picking them up, he looked through them and froze. The lenses were clear glass.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Lucian hummed with delight as he bit down on the sweet, syrupy, crunchy baklava. He was stuffed, he couldn’t eat another mouthful of the wonderful picnic Arlo had brought for their afternoon together. If he so much as thought about one more mouthful, he’d burst. He picked up another piece to test out his theory.
“Honestly, I can’t eat another thing.” Lucian eyed what was left of the picnic.
“You said that four pieces of baklava ago.” Arlo, lying on his back, his arms crossed behind his head, smiled up at him.
“I had to make sure they were fit to eat. I mean, if they were off, we’d have had to take them back to the deli.”
They were under the same tree they’d sat beneath the day before, when they’d come to the park for Jake’s Day, yet it couldn’t be more different. No crowds, no noise, no people almost. It was cooler, and cloud cover blotted out the sun. Lucian didn’t mind, he didn’t mind at all, because all that mattered was that he was here with Arlo. He swooped down and landed a sticky kiss on Arlo’s lips.
“Thank you.”
Arlo tilted his head. “What for?”
