Page 77 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
Wasn’t that what Lucian was doing? Changing his plans. Not going home. Investing his future in him. Allowing a wedge to form between himself and his family. And all of it because of him?
The wind picked up again, bringing with it a faint but unmistakable feral cry, as somewhere deep in the mountains a life came to a sudden, brutal end. Arlo shivered. Carrying Peanut inside, he locked the glass doors, gladder than he’d ever been to shut out the night.
Too restless to go to bed, he switched on the TV and stared at the flickering images, his fevered brain unable to understand what he was seeing and hearing. Switching it off, he threw aside the remote.
Wandering into the kitchen, he stood by the counter, not knowing why he was in there. The refrigerator hummed, and he pulled open the door before slamming it closed. He wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t thirsty. Maybe he could paint. It’d always soothed and calmed, but he shuddered at what his febrile brain might cause to appear on the canvas. Thrusting his hands through his hair, he walked up and down the kitchen, as antsy as a caged animal.
His gaze fell on his laptop, on the coffee table in front of his couch. Danebury Manor. He’d never looked it up after his first abortive attempt.
It didn’t take a moment to power up, and a few taps on the keys made his jaw drop.
Danebury Manor. The perfect setting for stylish weddings, balls, charity functions, corporate events for blue chip companies… He flicked through them. Danebury was incredible. It was older than the United States by a hundred years or more. Brick and stone mellowed by time, it blended perfectly into the green landscape. How the hell could Lucian bear to leave it?
About Us… Arlo clicked the tab. A photograph filled the screen. The Blaxston family. Mother, brother, sister, seated in a bright and sunny room lined with paintings. A Labrador sat at the feet of Lucian’s brother. Next to Lucian was a small wire haired mutt. Arlo smiled. Wally, Lucian’s pet dog.
His smile faded. Lucian looked happy. He was with the family he loved, with the family who loved him back and who wanted only the very best for him.
Arlo scrolled down, past the potted bios of each family member until he got to Lucian’s. Floral artist… recognized as one of the leading in the country despite his youth… winner of prestigious industry awards… innovative… flair… work featured in movies, TV, and in magazines… trained at one of Europe’s most renowned schools for floral design…
Arlo slumped back into the cushions. Lucian had so much waiting for him back home. If he stayed, how long would it be before he realized his wings had been clipped and that he wanted to fly once more, just as Tony had done?
“Oh, god.” Arlo rubbed his brow, at the dull headache taking root. He hadn’t wanted to get involved, he’d told himself that so many times. But with Lucian, it had been impossible not to get involved, to not fall—
No, he couldn’t say it, because saying it would only make things harder, more painful, more heartbreaking, when he told Lucian it was time he returned home.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
“Here you go. I think my tea has more depth and intrigue than the movie.” Lucian laughed as he set down the mugs on the coffee table in front of his battered couch.
Arlo answered with a vague smile, and Lucian peered at him.
“Are you okay? You were very quiet at dinner.”
“Just tired. Jonas has been taking up a lot of time, getting ready for the Boston showing. He seems to want me involved in everything, all the way down to the size and shape of the canapés.” Arlo shrugged.
“Better than keeping you too much at arm’s length, though. Maybe he fancies you.” Lucian snorted. “He’ll have me to contend with if he makes a move on my man!”
Arlo didn’t answer, and Lucian tucked himself into the corner of the couch and sipped his tea, studying Arlo through his lashes. Yes, tired, that was all. Which was why he’d been so quiet and preoccupied over dinner, just as he’d been quiet and preoccupied over the last couple or so weeks. Why he’d bailed on them getting together once, twice, maybe three times. Yes, he was tired, that was all.
“How are things with your folks?”
Lucian jolted, Arlo’s question taking him by surprise. It was the only cloud on his sunny horizon, and his shoulders slumped.
“Awkward. Mum still thinks I’m making another wrong decision. Which I absolutely am not,” he added quickly.
Arlo shrugged again, the gesture sending a ripple of irritation through Lucian. No comment, no denial, no backing of Lucian’s assertion, just a non-committal, unreadable shrug.
“But at least she seems to have accepted my decision not to go home, even if it is grudging. It’s Eddie and Bella who’ve fired the big guns, because they’ve made their views very clear. Eddie’s even threatened to cut off my allowance if I’m not home by the 5th of November. Which I won’t be. They’ll just have to pin a photo of me on the guy when they throw it on the bonfire.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Guy Fawkes Night, on the 5th November. Or Firework Night, as it’s also called. It’s an old tradition in the UK, and we always have a firework display at Danebury, followed by a bonfire where we sacrifice the guy, as in an effigy of Mr. Guy Fawkes himself. He tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament, back in whenever. Just a shame he didn’t succeed. It’s quite a night, and next year you can come home with me and we’ll celebrate it together. My family’ll be cool with my decision by then, because I’d have worn them down, and you’ll have won them over.”
“So they’re still not happy?”
“No.” Lucian sighed. That was one way of putting it. “Still the baby, remember? But they have to understand it’s not what I am. And there’s one very good way of doing that.”
Nerves fluttered deep inside his belly. He was staying in Collier’s Creek, he was going to make a life here, with this man who was his first thought of the day, his last thought at night, and every thought in between. They’d decided together, so the next step was inevitable, yet his stomach knotted when it should be leaping and dancing with excitement. Nerves, yes, that was all it was, because what he had to say was a big step for them both. He took a deep breath.
