Page 19

NINETEEN

He was in the right place at the right time with the right people. Or so Bax tried to tell himself as he sat at one of the communal tables in The Chameleon Club’s dining-room-slash-ballroom on Sunday afternoon.

“So this accounting firm of yours would specialize in serving the LGBTQ community?” the club’s current Director of Finance, Lloyd Bennett, asked as he sat across from Bax.

Lloyd was relatively young, but the sharp way that he dressed and the seriousness on his face when he looked at Bax made him feel like he was part of a bygone age. He held a lot of sway, though, not only with the inner workings of the club itself, but with its members as well.

“That’s the aim,” Bax said, sitting straighter and speaking in a more refined manner himself. Lloyd had that effect on everyone. He was a living, breathing time machine that recreated the Victorian era within a ten-foot radius of wherever he sat. “It’s in keeping with the mission of The Brotherhood,” Bax went on. “I’d like to serve the community in every way I can.”

“Not just paying dues?” Lloyd asked with a sly grin.

“Right,” Bax laughed.

He suddenly froze, wondering if Lloyd was joking or not. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure that he had paid his dues for the year yet. That wasn’t at all a good look for someone trying to market his accounting business.

“My hope is eventually to employ LGBTQ accountants and other staff as well,” he went on, hoping Lloyd wasn’t assessing how much money he owed as the two of them chatted over tea and some truly excellent Victoria sponge. “Which is why I wanted to approach you first with my plans.”

It wasn’t entirely true. Bax had a whole pile of resources that Callum had sent him. He could have launched his business and had more work than he knew how to handle if he started contacting the names Callum had given him from the Surrey and Kent LGBTQ Small Business Association. Something about accepting Callum’s help like that didn’t sit right with Bax.

“I must say, your plans intrigue me,” Lloyd said. “The Brotherhood has a list of friendly accountants, if you catch my meaning, but none that are specifically tailored to our members’ needs.”

As Lloyd went on, talking about some of the services available to members and needs that he saw within The Brotherhood, in the slowest and most droning voice possible, Bax’s attention drifted.

He hadn’t started contacting Callum’s friends yet because accepting that kind of help felt like cheating. It probably wasn’t. Business was business and his and Nick’s relationship was separate from that. It felt like it, though.

Every thought Bax had these days felt like cheating. Even sitting at a table with Lloyd, nodding in what he hoped was the right places as Lloyd listened to himself talk, felt wrong. Nick needed him, now more than ever. He should be standing by his man and giving Nick all the support he could.

He should, but that part of him that longed to be free rebelled at the idea. He shouldn’t have to give up everything he was and everything he wanted just to be with someone.

But who was he, really? And what did he want? He thought he had a quick, definitive answer to that question, but that winter had changed a lot of things. Being with Nick and seeing a different side of life, a side he never thought he’d see, had opened his perspective in a way nothing else had.

“So I don’t think it would be out of the question at all for you to include something in next month’s newsletter and to post a notice on the board,” Lloyd finished up his monologue, reaching for his teacup. “In fact, I believe many of our members would welcome a business like yours.”

“Thanks,” Bax said, taking the last biscuit from his plate and dipping it in his lukewarm tea. “I really appreciate this. Launching a business is always hard, but in this economy, it feels even harder.”

“There’s nothing particularly wrong with this economy,” Lloyd said, bristling a little. “It’s all a matter of care and perspective.”

Bax swallowed gingerly, regretting that he’d set Lloyd off on one of his favorite subjects. As liberal and progressive as most of The Brotherhood were, there were plenty of members, like Lloyd, who would support the Tories until they nailed their coffin closed.

He had just resigned himself to another fifteen minutes of nodding and humming as Lloyd explained why there was nothing really wrong with the economy when, of all people, Callum swooped in and plopped into the seat beside Bax.

“Hello, all,” Callum said with his usual cheer. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Only, I saw the two of you here and I simply had to join you. You look as though you’re having quite a jolly conversation.”

“I was just explaining to Baxter about how the British economy is as strong and vibrant as it’s ever been,” Lloyd said, suddenly stiff and pinched. Lloyd and Callum were about as opposite as people could be, and Lloyd clearly had no love lost for Callum. “If you will excuse me,” he said, placing his hands on the table then standing, “I see someone I need to chase for their membership dues.”

Bax’s stomach tightened with dread, not just because he was certain he’d be next in the dues hunt.

“Would it be terribly rude of me to say I’m not sad to see the back of him?” Callum asked, leaning closer, like they were conspiring. “It also gives me a better opportunity to catch up with you.”

He rested his hand on the table for a moment so close to Bax’s that they were almost touching. A heartbeat later, he reached for the teapot in the center of the table and poured tea into one of the cups set around in the empty places at the table.

The hair on the back of Bax’s neck stood up. Callum hadn’t wandered by randomly, and if he was a betting man, he would have said Callum wasn’t at The Chameleon Club that day by accident either.

“You’re staring at my hands, I know,” Callum said as he continued to fix his tea. “You’re wondering how someone who has been taking a blacksmithing class for the last month can still have such smooth hands.”

“I wasn’t, but now that you ask.” Internally, Bax winced. He should be shooing Callum away. He was taken. He was with Nick and they were happy.

But were they?

“The gloves your beau provides for us do a brilliant job of protecting my hands,” Callum said. “Frequent manicures take care of the rest.” He laughed as he stirred his tea.

“There’s nothing like a good manicure,” Bax said, hoping the comment was just generic enough to….

To what? Did he want to chase Callum away? Or did he want to talk business with the man, like he’d come to The Chameleon Club to do? Or were his motivations for not getting up and heading back to Hawthorne House darker than that?

“Your man has large, rough hands,” Callum went on, taking a biscuit from the plate in the middle of the table. His movements were tight and almost nervous. “I bet that’s nice.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he bit into the biscuit.

Bax shifted to face him more fully. “Is there something I can do for you, Callum?” he asked, worried about where the conversation was going.

Callum swallowed his biscuit, sipped his tea, then leaned closer to Bax to murmur, “I’m certain there are a lot of things you could do for me.”

Bax froze. A few months ago, that was the kind of joke he would have made. He would have absolutely taken Callum up on his flirting and flirted right back.

Now, though, it felt saccharine and inappropriate.

Callum put his teacup down and scooted even closer to Bax. “Look, I’ll be honest with you,” he said. “I signed up for the forging class in the hope that I would see you more often, that we could rekindle our old friendship.”

Bax wanted to shout, “I knew it!” He’d been suspicious of Callum from the start, and it turned out those suspicions were warranted. Instead of feeling flattered, he felt like he’d nabbed Callum with his hand in the biscuit jar.

“And?” he asked, prompting Callum to go on.

“And I really wish you’d come and join our coven,” Callum said, his expression one of exaggerated pleading. “We could really use a dedicated, creative, organized member like you. So many of the younger people who join covens these days are going through some sort of phase and aren’t really serious about practicing. But if they could see someone a bit closer to their age who takes the faith seriously and understands all its nuances, it would be life-changing for them.”

The words sounded pretty, but Bax was still suspicious. “A lot of younger people are searching for a faith system that aligns with their values more than traditional organized religions do,” he said uneasily.

“Precisely,” Callum said, planting his hand on Bax’s as it sat on the table.

The touch was electric, but not in the good ways that touching Nick were. It was like someone had thrust his hand into an electrical socket.

He pulled away and cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Callum,” he said. He reached for his teacup only to find he’d already drunk all the tea. He wouldn’t be able to hide from his discomfort that way.

“Alright, you’ve found me out,” Callum went on, as if Bax had interrogated him. “It’s you I want.” He inched closer to Bax and lowered his voice. “I’ve always been fond of you, Baxter. We’ve had some good times together. If I hadn’t been with Stephen at the time and you hadn’t been with Damien, I would have pursued something with you.”

“I’m not sure—” Bax began.

“We have a chance now, though,” Callum interrupted. “I can’t imagine that you’re actually serious with Nick. He’s a lovely man and a brilliant artist and teacher, but he’s not our sort at all.”

Bax frowned as deep, roaring protectiveness for Nick rolled through him. “Nick and I are together,” he said.

“Yes, but should you be?” Callum asked.

Bax opened his mouth to defend his relationship, but Callum cut in once again.

“Nick is rough around the edges. He doesn’t understand deeper things. If we lived two hundred years ago, he’d be the grubby blacksmith shoeing your horses while you lived in the manor, commanding an army of servants.”

Bax gaped at Callum, blown away by the classism that he hadn’t realized Callum clung to.

“My dad was the second son and I’m way down the list of his heirs,” he said, though even that defense felt like he was buying into Callum’s warped worldview.

“And Nick has kids,” Callum went on, ignoring his argument. Unfortunately, he hit on the biggest argument Bax had been having with himself. “Who wants to spend all their time running around after mewling children?” Callum asked. “Children are such a bother. They’re messy, you can’t hold a conversation with them, and you certainly can’t express yourself fully when they’re around, if you know what I mean.”

Bax clenched his jaw and forced himself to breathe before saying anything he might regret. A wealth of feelings that were new and raw, but that had been hiding under his restlessness and uncertainty, suddenly welled up.

“I happen to love those children,” he told Callum. “They’re my cousin Raina’s children. They’re Hawthornes. And they’re adorable.”

Callum’s face started to lose color and he leaned back a bit at the force of Bax’s words, like he realized he’d said the wrong thing. “Oh, I?—”

“Yes, children take a lot of attention and effort to raise,” Bax went on. “Usually there are at least two people involved in the process, but Nick is doing it all on his own. He’s doing an amazing job, too. And yes, sometimes he has to prioritize the kids over me, but I’m not so sure I really need to be at the center of his attention all the time either. I’ve got a business to build, a family to enjoy, and a faith that, as you said, I’m serious about. I need to give my time and attention to those things, too.”

It was suddenly so clear. Relationships weren’t about obsession with the other person. He’d seen relationships where the partners focused only on each other and nothing else. They tended to fall apart spectacularly once the infatuation stage was over. A real partnership was about facing the world together.

He didn’t need Nick to ignore his kids so he could cater to every one of his whims. It probably wouldn’t be good for him to always get his way anyhow. Even though it stung a little to be interrupted when he wanted to spend focused time with Nick, there had to be a way they could work together to find other time for each other. They lived in a gigantic manor house filled with family. Help was right around the corner at any time of the day or night.

“I’m sorry, Callum, I’ve got to go,” he said, standing and stepping away from the table.

“So you’re not going to join me?” Callum asked, his expression pinched to false innocence and one last hope of swaying Bax away from what he wanted so desperately he could feel it in the beat of his heart.

“No,” Bax said, then nodded goodbye.

He’d been stubborn when it came to what he thought he wanted from a relationship so far. Rafe was right in saying people changed and grew. Changing and growing was the reason he’d split with Damien in the first place. He’d left that relationship because it wasn’t right for him, and it had stopped being right for him because he was a different person now than he’d been when he and Damien had started dating.

He was a person who needed more than just a lover and a coven to serve his needs. He needed to be part of something bigger than himself, part of a family.

The drive back to Hawthorne House felt like it took forever, but it gave his sprouting thoughts time to grow and develop. He didn’t know what the future had in store for him and Nick, he just knew that he wanted to find a way to make it work. That would take giving up some of his ego on the one hand and probably some changes on Nick’s end as well. He needed to be careful not to frame the changes that both of them needed to make so they could grow their relationship with each other as demands, but instinct and his understanding of Nick made him certain they could work it out.

He was in a good mood as he drove into the family parking lot at Hawthorne House, but that mood was instantly shattered at the sight of Nick packing the back of his mum’s car with boxes and suitcases. Something more than just an overnight visit was going on.

“What’s all this?” he asked, jumping out of the car and striding quickly over to Mrs. Turner’s car.

“Bax,” Nick greeted him with a wide smile.

As much as it was clear Nick was happy to see him, it was also clear that Nick was stressed and anxious. When he hugged Bax in greeting, he held on a little too tightly and pressed their bodies together a little too long.

“What’s going on here?” Bax asked when Nick finally let him go.

“My son has finally come to his senses and agreed the children should live with me,” Mrs. Turner answered for him as she approached from the house, a wailing Jordan in her arms.

Bax realized Macy was already strapped into her car seat and was crying as well. “You’re giving the kids away?” he asked, feeling like his mind was exploding with shock.

“Just on a trial basis,” Nick said, raising his hands like he was defending himself. “Just for a little while so that we can have some time together.”

Bax gaped harder, his chest squeezing so hard he couldn’t breathe for a moment. “You’re giving the kids away because of me?” he wheezed out.

Nick’s tense look turned to all-out panic. “I don’t know what else to do, Bax,” he said, raising his voice. “I love you and I want to spend time with you and build a life with you. I haven’t felt this way about anyone but Raina. But the kids keep getting in the way, and I’m barely keeping my head above water as I juggle them and us and work and art. I don’t know what else to do. You’ll leave me if I can’t give you everything you need.”

Bax was simultaneously angry and miserable for Nick. His heart broke knowing that he’d had even a small part in Nick doing something so drastically against what his soul was probably telling him.

“I love you,” he said, his anger making the otherwise tender words harder than they should have been. He stepped closer and hooked his hand around the back of Nick’s neck, holding him there. “I love you no matter what, Nick. Are things perfect between us? No. Do we have things to work out? Yes. Everyone does. But you don’t have to get rid of the kids for me.”

“It’s just temporary,” Nick said, his eyes glassy as emotion got the better of him.

Jordan continued to scream and reach for his daddy throughout their whole exchange, despite Mrs. Turner’s efforts to hold him clamped to her. Bax couldn’t take it anymore. He broke away from Nick, marched over to Mrs. Turner, and pulled Jordan from her arms,

Jordan clung to him, wrapping himself around Bax as if he was as good as Daddy, or almost. He held on so tight and hid his face against Bax’s neck as tears, snot, and spit soaked his shirt that Bax’s heart nearly squeezed right out of his chest.

He didn’t just love Nick, he loved the kids, too. It was just like he’d told Callum at The Chameleon Club. Jordan and Macy were family. They were already a part of him. They shared his DNA. There was no way in hell he was going to let Nick sacrifice them to the mad idea that he had to choose between the kids or him.

“I’m not letting you send the kids away,” he told Nick firmly, even though his heart was melting more and more by the moment. “You don’t have to choose between them and me. I never imagined myself as a parent, no, but I can change. Everyone can change. We can figure this out, Nick. We can figure out how to have the time we need for each other and to keep the kids safe and happy with us, too. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

“But I can’t give you what you need,” Nick said, breaking into tears as he crossed his limit. “I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t know how to give you everything you need when I have so many responsibilities already.”

“We’ll share the responsibilities,” Bax said, moving in to hug Nick with his free arm. “We’ll figure out what we’re doing together.”

Jordan had stopped crying and was just gasping and shuddering in the aftermath of his outburst. He had enough awareness to push himself away from Bax and into Nick’s arms. That freed Bax up to fetch Macy from her car seat.

“What are you doing?” Mrs. Turner demanded. “Stop that!” Bax imagined that if she had an umbrella with her, she would have been beating him with it. He ignored her as he pulled a crying Macy into his arms. “Nicholas, stop this. Tell him to put Macy back in the car.”

Macy clung to Bax as fiercely as Jordan had, and Bax hugged her tightly in return.

“No, Mum,” Nick said, looking intensely at Bax as he and Macy joined him and Jordan. “I’ve changed my mind. The kids are staying right here with us.”