Page 39 of Gideon (Finding Home #3)

Chapter

Fourteen

You’re like a thirty-nine-year-old toddler. You’ll need a nap soon and a short stay on the naughty step

Gideon

The next morning I wake up and stretch. The sun is beaming through the low window and dancing on the sheets.

I turn my head and smile. Eli is sleeping like the dead and, just like normal, he’s spread out over more than half the bed, his arms and legs stretched out like he’s preparing to land on Earth.

His head is shoved under the pillow and I know that when he emerges he’ll have a head of hair that’s wilder than Robert Smith’s from The Cure.

I stretch again, feeling the ache in my arse with a smile. After the massage we’d lain cuddled together for a long while, and he’d slipped into sleep easily. However, he’d woken up energised in the middle of the night, and I’d reaped the benefits.

I think back to that moment in the café.

He’d been truly impressive: focused and strong and the calm centre of the storm.

I associate Eli with sunshine and snark, kindness and a wild strength.

Seeing him like that was like seeing a lion in its natural habitat when you’d thought he was a house cat. He was effortlessly in charge.

I’d watched him as he worked and felt a surge of pride.

I wanted to shout out that he was mine. My man, my person.

But I couldn’t, and the reason for that is starting to loom larger the more important he grows to me.

I know a reckoning is coming, but whether I force it is another matter.

I’ve always been strangely apathetic about my career, drifting in whatever direction Frankie steered me.

Niall and Silas could never understand why I did as I was told when I seemed to be allergic to authority in every other area.

They never understood the hold that Frankie has over me.

Had, I should say, because it’s been fading for a while as my dissatisfaction grows. It’s hard to admit that someone you’ve trusted implicitly could be wrong. Makes you call everything into question.

I think of the firm of accountants I hired last week to examine my accounts. I have a feeling that they’ll yield a poisoned crop because I’m pretty sure that Frankie has been skimming money for years. I’ve just been too drunk or stoned to notice.

Sighing, I scrub my hands down my face. Yep, a reckoning is coming. I can feel it in the air.

As if sensing the turbulence of my thoughts, Eli stirs.

He stretches out his legs, giving a contemplative hmm .

I smile. That sleepiness won’t last long.

Within minutes he’ll be up and raring to go.

My Eli is not one for sleeping in. I still.

Is he my Eli? I shake my head and smile.

Of course he is. And I’m his. It seems as natural as breathing to be with him.

We’ve slotted together as if we’d been intended for each other.

All of my sharp angles meeting his smooth lines and making an interesting and quirky whole.

He pushes the pillow away and lifts his head, his eyes searching for me. When he finds me, he gives a wide, wonderful smile that fills his face, wrinkling that freckled nose and lighting up those olive eyes so they gleam.

“Morning,” he says huskily, the Welsh lilt strong in his voice like it always is first thing in the morning. It’s as if his brain defaults to its natural setting overnight. As he moves through the day, his voice will ever so slightly lose that obvious tell.

“Morning,” I murmur, turning on my side to face him and grinning as he hugs me, burrowing into me so I feel all his body, the sleek planes and hairy surfaces melding into mine.

His face nestles into my neck and he inhales deeply.

We lie there for a second listening to the birdsong outside the window.

Finally, he emerges and reaches up. “First kiss of the day,” he says happily.

I bend and fit my mouth to his, smiling at the same time and feeling it meet his own grin until he groans and takes the kiss deeper, rubbing his tongue over mine. He rears up, pushing me onto my back and coming down over the top of me.

He’s just started an eye-crossing rubbing of my cock when the most hideous noise rumbles through the house and we break apart as if someone has thrown cold water over us.

“What the fuck?” he breathes.

“I know.”

“What is it?”

“It sounded like someone clearing their throat over a loudspeaker,” I mutter. The noise happens again and my eyes narrow. “Because it is someone clearing their throat over a loudspeaker. What the fuck?”

I slip out of the bed and pace over to the open window, aware of Eli following me. I open the curtains feeling him mould his body against mine as he curls around me to look out of the window. “Fuck,” he mutters and starts to laugh.

I lean out of the window. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

Silas and Niall are standing under the window on the patio, wearing identical grins. “Attention,” Niall says through the megaphone, leaning back slightly as it screeches. “Attention,” he says again in a very posh voice. “You are hereby ordered to evacuate the bed and each other’s bodies.”

Silas shakes his head, his body quivering with laughter.

“You are a fucking arsehole,” I inform him, leaning slightly out of the window.

“An arsehole with a loudspeaker,” Niall says triumphantly. “That makes me the boss, Grumpy Boy. Now, put Eli down before he dies of either starvation or sexual exhaustion.”

“Is this discreet behaviour?” I demand.

“No, and do you know what else isn’t discreet or polite, Gideon? Sexing your guest to death and not coming to a barbecue at my house. That is neither discreet nor polite.”

“Those are the parameters for politeness? You should write a column.”

“I’m too avant-garde for columns,” he says loftily. “Come on.” He pauses. “But shower first. I haven’t got any spare hazmat suits, and Milo will be cross if you get bodily fluids on our new patio furniture.”

I groan and look at Eli, who’s smiling but looking slightly nervous. “Do you want to go?” I ask. “If you don’t, don’t worry about it. I’ll make an excuse.” I pause. “Or just tell them to fuck off.”

“We can actually hear you, you know,” Niall shouts through the loudspeaker.

Eli hesitates and then nods. “No, let’s go. I haven’t really met everyone properly yet.”

“You sure?” He nods and I lean out of the window again. “We’ll be over in an hour. You may start the party then. I like my steak rare, but Eli likes his medium. Make sure that there’s a good selection of salads.”

“Why did we want to invite him?” Niall asks and Silas laughs, taking the loudspeaker from him and waving farewell.

I turn back to Eli. “Are you sure?”

He nods. “I am…”

“But?”

“The last time they met me, I was your nurse. It doesn’t look good.”

“Eli, you haven’t been my nurse for fucking months. How long is acceptable? Should I be drawing my pension?”

He laughs and steps into me, my arms coming up automatically to pull him close. “That’s not long to wait.” I pinch him and he jerks and laughs but then sobers quickly and nestles closer. “I know. I just don’t want anyone to think I’ve manipulated you.”

“I don’t think that’s likely,” I say dryly. “They tried to hypnotise me for a movie role once and gave up.”

“Which movie role?” he asks, pulling away slightly.

“The magician thriller.”

“I saw that. You were brilliant in it.”

“Yes, well not so much with the actual magicianing. I nearly decapitated the actress playing my assistant and my card dealing was absolutely atrocious.” Eli laughs and I brush his hair back. “I like to see you smile,” I say softly.

His eyes leap to mine and hold. “Really?”

“Yes, you should always be happy.”

“That’s not possible.”

“If I had anything to do with it, I’d make it so.”

“That’s lovely.” He pauses. “And also somewhat worryingly godlike.”

I shrug and smile at him. “Don’t worry. They’re lovely people. You’ll have a good time and they’ll love you,” I finish confidently.

“Will they?”

“How could they not?” The simple statement rings with certainty as we stare at each other. Then he coughs and moves back slightly.

“I’ll take your word for it. Come on, let’s shower.”

An hour later we walk up the drive towards Milo and Niall’s house. Eli looks at my outfit and smiles. “What?” I ask, looking down at my navy shorts and sky-blue shirt. “What’s the matter?”

“Your shoes match,” he says, affection and amusement running through his voice.

I look down at my sky-blue Vans. “And your point is?”

“Well, look at me. I’m wearing denim shorts and an old T-shirt, and I have holes in my shoes, and you look like you’ve stepped off the catwalk.”

I pull him to a stop. “And yet I can’t take my eyes off you. You don’t need expensive clothes or designer labels. All I can see is you, and you’re fucking gorgeous.”

His expression softens, and after a quick look around he pulls me to him for a soft kiss. “Then I’m happy.” He nudges me. “You make me happy.”

I try not to let my smile take over my face, but I can’t manage it. “You make me happy too,” I say gruffly and feel him squeeze my hand.

The house appears ahead of us and Eli looks up at it curiously. “This is lovely,” he says, and I smile at him affectionately.

“This was a wreck too. Niall restored it and then let Milo run amok with the décor.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” I say in a doom-laden voice. “You’ll approve if you like paint colours that let you imagine you’re living in a circus tent.”

He starts to laugh and looks around. “Could you live somewhere like this?”

I consider it. “I’ve never really lived anywhere apart from hotels,” I say slowly.

“I’ve owned lots of houses.” I pause. “In fact I think I still own houses.” He gives me a despairing look, and I flush slightly.

“But I never lived in them. They were investments. I just stopped at hotels because it was easier.”

“That sounds rather rootless.”