Page 53 of Unexpected Company
His lips are glossy from the sugary glaze of the gammon, and I cannot resist the desire to lean into him and lick the sweetness from his lips. Roman’s mouth falls open and he surges forward and steals a deep, tender kiss that I feel in every part of me.
Pulling away, his voice breathless, he asks. “What’s for pudding?”
“I’ll give you a clue. It has the word ‘dick’ in it.”
Boxing Day goes by in a blur of tangled limbs, rutting bodies and luxuriating kisses. Far too many biscuits and even more mulled wine. We eat the remainder of the spotted dick – a steamed sponge dessert with spices, raisins and a hearty dose of custard – while lazing on the bed. We doze and we watch films and we dance in the kitchen like a lovesick couple. We talk about our childhoods and our favourite books and places we’ve visited or want to visit. We ask each other questions and we laugh at some of the answers. But neither of us brings up what happens next. We skirt around it with more kisses, more tea and more laughter.
Now, Roman is fast asleep. His body turned towards me and my legs over his the way he likes. He mumbles in his slumber – because he is seldom quiet – then nuzzles his face into my neck.
I stare out into the darkness, tiredness creeping in at the edges but sleep evading me. When we started this thing between us, Iknew our time together was limited. And those first few days, I was fine with that. I was okay leaving here and saying goodbye. But the guy has stolen my heart and the thought of walking away physically hurts. The idea of going home alone to that house I despise with its bare walls and sterile countertops, lacking the warmth and chaos that is uniquely Roman, makes the pain even worse.
Afraid that my whirring thoughts and restlessness will disturb the beautiful sleeping man next to me, I kiss Roman’s forehead and slowly lift myself off him, then crawl out the bed and tiptoe from the room, pulling the door shut behind me.
In the kitchen, the antique clock hanging above the back door ticks over to two am. I pour a glass of water, then settle in the lounge at the small desk that I’ve been neglecting lately. I read the last chapter I wrote to remind myself of where I left off, then let my fingers fly over the keys, DI Jack Snipers’ story taking shape. I’ve often thought I put a lot of myself into my characters, but right now, Jack is being far braver with his feelings than I’ve been.
“You’ve changed my life, Blaine,” Jack admits, reaching out to wipe the tears that fall down his boyfriend’s face. “Never in a million years did I think a young, popular superstar would fall for a grumpy, old city detective, but you did. You changed everything.” Blaine reaches up to wrap a hand around Jack’s wrist, turning his face to kiss Jack’s palm.
“I would risk everything to keep you safe and see you smile,” Jack says. “My job, my reputation, all of it.” It’s dark in the apartment, the two of them standing in the debris of yet another break-in at the reality TV star’s home. The stalker growing more brazen by the day.
“When I find this guy, I will end him.” Jack leans forward and kisses Blaine’s lips, tasting the salt of his tears mixed with the subtle vanilla of the cookies Blaine was eating in the car beforethey walked into this mess. “And then I will take you away from here, pup. We’ll start over somewhere new and all of this will be behind us.”
“I want that,” Blaine rasps.
“I love you, Blaine. I’m never letting you go.”
Sitting back in my chair, I fold my arms over my stomach and re-read my words. They came so easily to Jack – to me – and just like that, the crime drama I set out to write crossed the boundary into a romance. If only I had the words to get my own happily ever after.
I read the chapter again and again, a growing sense of urgency pushing me to my feet. I need Roman to know how I feel. I need him to know that before him, I was lonely and miserable. Not even the job I love and am incredibly proud of was bringing me happiness anymore. Not the sort of happiness that makes you want to sing from the top of your lungs, or jump out of bed and take on the day with renewed energy. Not like the happiness that courses through me every time Roman smiles my way.
I need him to know that in these few short days together, he’s made me happier than I’ve ever been. His presence and his smile and his god-awful taste in tea have made my life brighter, my heart fuller and my words plentiful.
I need him to know that when I think of going home, all I can think of is him. Because if a home is the place you go to for comfort, the place you’re most at ease and safe, then he is my home.
I need him to know all of that and so much more.
Switching off the lights as I exit the room, I walk into the bedroom to the sound of his gentle snores. Lifting the duvet, I climb beneath.
Roman immediately shuffles closer like he’s drawn to my presence, flings an arm over my stomach and moves his head to share my pillow.
In the room’s darkness, I can’t see his face, but I can picture it. His lightly parted lips, his fluttering eyelids, the groove that appears along his forehead when he’s frowning, deep in a dream.
Breathing in his scent, I close my eyes, relaxing into the mattress. In a few short hours, it’ll be morning and I’ll tell Roman how I feel.
I fall asleep hoping he feels the same.
Chapter twenty-one
Roman
Pressing my chin into Garrett’s chest, I stare up at him, my hand tickling lines up and down his right side. I’ve opened the curtains, bathing the room in a warm glow and revealing a bright blue sky that were it not December in the UK, I would believe is the start of a beautiful warm day. He looks peaceful, wrapped in the glow and the rumpled sheets.
But I really want him to wake up for no other reason than that I love the sound of his voice, and because I have a great plan for the day.
Garrett’s eyelids flutter, his mouth parting and his nose twitching as awareness creeps in. When his eyes open, his golden hazels find mine instantly, like he’s drawn to me as much as I am to him.
“Morning,” I say, leaning up to deliver a quick peck to his lips. “I’ve had an idea.”
Garrett blinks, then rubs his eyes with the back of his hand.
