Page 7 of Our Little Sebastian
“Come on, let’s get inside before Roman sends out a search party.” As he spoke the front door was flung open and Roman strode out. I’ll admit I ogled—a lot. He was wearing a white cotton shirt and a pair of black dress pants, and like Marco had his sleeves rolled up and the buttons at the throat of his shirt undone.
“Too late. I swear that he must have been watching out the window. Don’t tell him I told you, but he’s been excited and nervous all day.” Marco gave a deep chuckle. “Honestly we both have.”
I chuckled nervously. “Over me? I’m not something special.”
“Hmm, why don’t you let Roe and I be the ones to decide that,”
My car door was pulled open and then Roman was leaning in, smiling. “You do know it’s freezing out here.”
“And yet you’re the one who ran out here without a jacket,” Marco said as he got out of the car. I couldn’t hide my smile when Roman rolled his eyes playfully.
“I was excited to see our guest, so you can excuse me for forgetting my jacket. Though I will note, husband dear, you don’t have one on either.” Roman reached out a hand to me and I nervously took it.
“You know I don’t feel the cold like you do,” Marco said with a shrug, coming around the car to where we stood.
“It’s true. I blame my Spanish blood.” Roman sniffed, to which Marco gave a teasing laugh.
“Your grandmother was Spanish. You, my love, are a born and bred Essex man and I don’t hold that against you, though sometimes?—”
I let out a laugh when Roman slapped his hand over Marco’s mouth, tutting at him. I wasn’t really looking at them as the house had caught my entire attention. It was huge, with wings spanning out either side of the entry hall.
“Great googly moogly, you could play hide and seek in there and never be found.” I peered around Roman and saw through the open door a long, wide hallway with what looked like smooth parquetry floors. I could slide for miles on them. There was an itch in my brain begging me to take my pesky shoes off and try.
“Oh dear, I fear we have bored you already,” Roman said, laughing.
“Oh no, Sir, sorry. I just got distracted.”
Roman tilted his head and looked to where I had been staring. “Ah, let me guess. You were trying to work out how far you could slide in your socks.”
Sprung, I brought my hand up to cover my laugh. “Maybe,” I answered behind my hand. Roman leaned into my space, his forehead nearly bumping into mine. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he whispered, darting a glance at Marco. “There is a hall upstairs that’s even better.”
“No hall sliding until after dinner.” Marco came up behind us and pressed a hand lightly against my lower back. “Let’s get you inside and warm you up and Roman can discuss the tree decorating he has planned.”
I looked over my shoulder and gave Marco a grin. “That would be the giant tree that Roman is making you climb?”
“Yes indeed, pretty sure he’s only making me do it so he can watch my arse.” Marco gently guided me into the foyer, Roman following close to hand.
Having watched his arse when they had left the shop yesterday I could understand why Roman would.
“Oh, I am sure he would be watching you to make sure you’re safe, Sir,” I answered, grinning.
“Oh yes, safe, exactly that,” Roman quipped.
Marco stopped once we were inside the foyer proper and removed his shoes, pulling on a pair of soft lambskin slippers.
“Sit here, Seb. Let me help you with your shoes. We tend to wear slippers or socks in the private parts of the house. The club parts have been refloored but in our wing it’s still the original flooring.”
I sat down on a small seat alongside the shoe rack and reached down to unlace my sneakers, but Roman was down on one knee picking up my foot before I could.
“Here, let me.”
I watched dumbstruck as Roman’s elegant long fingers undid the double bows I’d tied my trainer laces with.
“Oh, these are adorable.” Roman lifted my foot a little to show Marco my socks. When he saw the pink flying pigs, Marco chuckled.
“I like fun socks,” I murmured, focusing on the spot where Roman still held my foot, having taken my shoes off.
“Do you want slippers? These old halls are draughty as hell.” Roman asked, releasing my foot.
