Page 36 of Gideon (Finding Home #3)

Chapter

Thirteen

I have never in my life felt as connected with anyone as you

Eli

For the next few days we don’t stray far from the cottage. Or, in fact, the bed. In the future I’ll only have to catch the scent of lilac and I’ll be transported back to this bed: sweating, knackered, but so intensely satisfied I can feel it down to my bones.

On the fourth day I pull out of Gideon gently with a groan. “Fuck, I think my dick fell off.”

He snorts, his face buried in the mattress, his hair wet with sweat. “Has it fallen off in me? Oh, if only we had a medical professional on the premises.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” I say in an officious voice. “Mr Jones is in the building and will cater to all your needs.”

He groans. “Any more catering and I’ll be dead.”

I whip off the condom and, tying a knot in it, I make a stab at throwing it towards the bin. It probably doesn’t make it because I’m definitely not LeBron James.

I snuggle next to him, running a hand down the sleek tanned skin of his back and cupping his arse before pushing my finger into his hole and gently massaging the stretched entrance.

He gives a sigh of happiness and we lie for a while in a comfortable silence broken only by birdsong and eventually the rumble of my stomach.

“Was that you?” he says, coming up on his elbows, his face alight with mirth. I look my fill at that patrician face – so stern when I first met him, but now relaxed and open in a way I’d be willing to bet it’s never been before – and then I grin.

“It might have been because you talked about catering.”

“Sex and food,” he groans, turning on his back and putting his hand over his eyes. “If it’s not one it’s the other. You’re insatiable.”

Only for you, I think, able to look my fill at him with his eyes covered.

I rake my eyes over that lean body with the wide shoulders, flat stomach, narrow hips, and long legs.

Even his high arched feet are attractive.

His cock lies spent in its nest of black curls.

Instead of saying the words, I nudge him.

“Come on. Don’t lapse into a coma, Grandad.

I’m starving. You can’t treat a boy from Cardiff like this. ”

He removes his hand and the frown on his face can’t conceal the twitch of his lips. This man loves backchat like no one I’ve ever met. It’s an eternal mystery to me why so many people are so polite to him. He’s crying out for sarcasm and snark.

“I can think of many ways to treat this boy from Cardiff, but none that they’d put on the tourist leaflets.”

I wink and sit up, slapping him on the hip. “Come on. Feed me.”

“You’re like a fucking gremlin but one that’s already badly behaved.”

“Shall I order a takeaway?” I say brightly, reaching out to the bedside drawer. “Didn’t you put the menu from last night in here?”

“Other drawer,” he says quickly, reaching out a hand, but I’ve already opened the drawer and I’m gaping at the contents. I reach in and draw out the sheaf of papers. “Gid, these are my–”

“Emails, I know,” he says, looking steadily at me but with a flush over his sharp cheekbones.

“You kept them?”

“Obviously, oh master of the blindingly obvious.”

I shake my head and reach out and pinch him before he can move.

“Ow,” he says indignantly. “What was that for?”

“Sarcasm,” I return briefly. “I can’t believe you kept them,” I say softly.

“Yes, well, don’t read too much into it,” he says grumpily. “My eyes get tired looking at a screen. That’s all.”

“Oh, okay, Pinocchio.” I smack a kiss on his lips and bound out of bed.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

“To get this,” I say, pacing over to my laptop bag where it’s lain on one side for days, abandoned and forgotten. I pull out an identical sheaf of papers and brandish them at him.

“Oh,” he says softly. “Are those mine?”

“They are.” I come to stand by the side of the bed.

“And I’m not going to use the excuse of bad eyesight.

Mainly because my eyes are young and still full of vitality.

Ouch!” I leap away and then climb onto Gideon’s supine figure and bend to kiss him.

“But mainly because I wanted them close to me because I missed you so much while we were apart.”

“You did?” he asks almost shyly, which he’d be utterly horrified to know makes him look adorable.

I raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

He sighs. “Okay, I might have missed you a bit.” He shakes his head. “Who am I kidding? I missed you so much it was like losing my arm.” He pulls me down to him and takes my lips in a soft kiss.

I pull back eventually, feeling my breath picking up and the pulse in my body. “That was lush, that was,” I whisper. He smiles at me, looking slightly vulnerable, so I cock my head on one side. “Snog, marry, or kill Charlie Hunnam, Luke Evans, and Daniel Craig?”

“Pardon?”

“If you had to choose one, which would you go for?”

“No,” he says, pinching me so I roll off him, laughing. He stands up. “I refuse to answer that because, while it sounds perfectly innocuous, I just know that you’ll find a way to turn it into an examination of my deepest feelings.”

“Spoilsport,” I say with a pout.

“Yep, and a hungry one. Come on. Let’s shower and get dressed.”

“For takeaway? Can’t we be naked like normal?”

Gideon stares at me, thoughts running over his clever eyes.

“No. Let’s have a walk up to the main house.

The chef at the tea rooms makes wonderful food.

I had some while you were away. Plus, they have wonderful homemade cakes.

” My stomach rumbles and he grins. “There’s that sweet tooth. Come on. Let’s go and grab some food.”

“In public together?” My breath catches but I make my expression calm. “You sure?” I hesitate. “I’m not sure I can be next to you without letting it be known how I feel.”

He stills. “How do you feel?” he asks and the air turns thick between us.

I inhale and open my mouth but he holds up his hand quickly.

“No. Not like this, Eli. Not as part of a fucking awful negotiation where we have to set limits on how much we can touch each other without the shit hitting the fan.”

I stare at him. “Okay,” I say slowly.

“But just know,” he says, talking quickly, the words almost running into one another, “that I probably want to say the words back to you. In fact I’m fucking desperate to. And when it’s the right time you’ll make me so happy.”

I swallow hard, the gravity of the moment containing a sweetness that stabs me in my heart and throat. Searching for something to rescue him because he looks like he’s considering making a run for it, I widen my eyes. “I never knew you felt so strongly about milk.”

“What?” he says abruptly.

“Milk. You asked me what I felt like. That’s it.”

He stares at me and a slow, sweet smile crosses that thin face, making it incredibly beautiful. He says huskily, “Well, I do. I love milk. More than anything .” We stare at each other and I swallow hard before yelping as he smacks my arse. “Shower. Now.”

“So bossy,” I say wonderingly. “Does the press know about this?”

“Not at all. I’m renowned for my sweetness of manner and my perennial good nature when faced with obstacles.”

I laugh and follow him to the shower, letting him fuss over me and wash my hair and enjoying the feel of that lean, wet body next to me and the scent of spicy vanilla shower gel all over me.

An hour later, dressed in a denim shirt, khaki shorts, and battered navy Converse, I wait as Gideon locks the front door of the cottage and then jump as he grabs my hand. “What are you doing?”

“Holding your hand,” he says softly and firmly as he steers me down the path.

“You can’t. We could be seen.”

“Not yet.” He pulls us to a stop and jerks me round to face him. “I will drop it when people are around, but I don’t want you to think it means nothing. It means everything, and I need to sort it out in my head.”

“It’s okay,” I say softly, tugging him close with my unoccupied hand and inhaling the warm smell of him. “In your own time, remember.”

“Well, my own time isn’t at the expense of you,” he says, pulling back and starting to walk forward, drawing me after him.

“What do you mean?”

“That it won’t be for long. I promise you. I just need to sort out the way forward in my head before I force anything.”

He holds my hand up the path, only dropping it when we turn onto the main drive, but even then he walks close to me, letting his hand brush against mine. It’s oddly sweet. Like being courted.

I gape up at the huge house in front of us, rising golden out of the late afternoon sunshine and glowing as if painted by sunbeams. Thousands of lights twinkle in the windows as the mullioned glass catches the sun. “So beautiful,” I breathe.

He looks up. “It’s better now. When we visited as kids, the estate was run down by his father. Silas and Oz have done a good job.”

“Were you friends with him like you were with Niall?”

He laughs. “That’s the most tactful question I’ve ever heard.”

I shove him lightly. “Answer the tactful question, then.”

“No,” he says lightly. “Silas was just my friend. It was only Niall that I fucked on and off.” He stares ahead at the gravelled path contemplatively.

“I always felt slightly left out, to be honest. Silas and Niall roomed together, and they’ve always had this close bond.

I felt a bit isolated from that.” He shrugs.

“I’ve felt isolated from everything in my life.

Always have.” He frowns. “Maybe, thinking about it, that’s why I slept with Niall.

Maybe I wanted something that they didn’t share. Hmm.” He laughs. “Shit, that’s deep.”

“Do you feel isolated from me?” I ask in a low voice, and he stops walking and turns to face me. His eyes are hidden as the sun shines brightly behind him.

“Never,” he says, and his rich voice is full of a conviction that reassures me instantly. “I have never in my life felt as connected with anyone as you.”