Page 32 of Love Spell (Witches of London #3)

Saturday passed with an afternoon in the hills of the North Downs, in company this time and actually fun to get out with some of the guys again with no one going silent the moment they saw Noah.

He still hadn’t said yes, but that was starting to seem silly because how else was he going to stay here?

Sunday passed lounging at home, a slow start with coffee and omelettes, Timo later beginning to train him to run, with basic exercises and breathing work at Hyde Park, then a West End play that Noah grabbed last-minute tickets for since it was his birthday and Timo had no interest in such things.

He still hadn’t said yes, but now he was just being stubborn. Obviously they should go ahead.

Monday passed with a lunchtime appointment with Anjali Mahal, who steepled her fingers above her desk, listened patiently to Noah’s concerns, then went over all the timelines and process with him in great detail.

To judge by the office location and her firm, at which she was a senior partner, Noah suspected such handholding was costing Timo at least several hundred pounds before any work started, but Timo was all smiles and Anjali was all business, setting out every detail without needing to reference the written laws.

He still hadn’t said yes, but she sat back, asked if she should start the paperwork, and Noah nodded.

“I guess we …” Biting his own lip, Noah looked to Timo. “You really want to do this?” Silly question, but he had to ask, had to look Timo in the eye and decide for himself based on what he saw there.

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.” Timo beamed back at him and Noah looked away.

Timo took his hand, kissed it, and even Anjali unbent so far as to smile and say, “Let me be the first to congratulate you on your engagement.”

For some reason Noah wished she hadn’t said that, wished he’d not even nodded, wished they’d never come here, but decided that was all just due to the butterflies in his stomach. Such feelings likely happened to everyone.

* * *

Timo was allowed to take Noah out to a celebratory birthday dinner on Monday that was now also an engagement celebration.

Noah was weird about it, pensive and distracted, like he’d rather be somewhere else, but Timo was getting used to this.

If Noah wasn’t temperamental, he wouldn’t be as interesting.

Timo’s own outlook was so jubilant at the moment, he could hardly sit still. He wanted to shout his news to the world, to party all night, take the team out, blast news broadcasts, accept dozens of handshakes and congratulations while preening at the jealousy of the masses for his good fortune.

He felt more on fire, more alive, more like he’d really made it in the world than ever before.

No other success, no victory, from immigration to setting up his own prop shop to the first time he’d made a million pounds in an hour, could compare to this moment.

Indeed, he’d have traded any of it, probably all of it, for Noah.

But he didn’t have to. He had all of the above.

The fact that Noah didn’t seem especially happy about this win, or that no one rushed up to shake Timo’s hand, was off-putting.

Still, Timo had long since learned to tolerate humanity’s many shortcomings.

He had to let certain things roll off or they would bog him down.

He could either be part of the problem or could overcome the problem.

Firstly, Noah needed cheering up. The rest of the world could wait until morning.

Noah did blush and smile over the cake with candles that Timo had arranged to be brought out after dinner.

It was the book, though, that got him. Timo didn’t have to buy it, being public domain online.

They settled on the couch at home, Noah looking like he thought something might jump out at him, but he often looked like that, while Timo assured him the gift was not material.

“Ready?” Timo turned his upper body to face Noah, holding his tablet to read so Noah couldn’t see it.

“For what?” Noah, cross-legged, gripping his tea mug after their champagne dinner and his refusal to carry on with the drinks at home, seemed almost to crouch against the sofa arm.

Timo read to him.

It took Noah a while to begin to relax, confused and frowning. Timo was a few paragraphs in when Noah’s eyes widened.

“Wait, is that —?” Noah shoved his mug to the coffee table and scrambled over to Timo. He pulled the tablet around to see, Timo still holding on, grinning while he tried to read and Noah nearly climbed into his lap. “Oh, my God, wait — start over.”

Timo started over while Noah pressed against him, gazing at the screen as if at a beguiling painting, lips parted.

Timo read the whole first chapter, then Noah ran for his own tablet and opened his English version of the book.

“I need to reread the first chapter. It’s been a couple years since the last time I read the whole thing.” He piled back onto the couch, close against Timo, tucking up his knees to the side, and Timo put an arm around him. “Then you have to say how the translation differs.”

“Okay.” Timo buried his nose in Noah’s hair.

He didn’t ask what kind of time-waster reread books.

Timo had never read a book more than once in his life and he didn’t mean to start.

He had scant time for reading and there were too many books.

What could be a reason for finding out what happened, or gaining information in the case of nonfiction, when you already knew after the first go?

“Read,” Noah prompted him and Timo turned his head to see the screen.

They read the English version silently, then Timo indulged with observations on how this latest English translation differed from the original Russian.

This book was a good case in point: marries, falls in love, tragic end — Anna Karenina wasn’t exactly a shocker even the first time around, was it?

When they again wrapped up the first chapter, Noah hugged him. “I’m sorry I don’t want to marry you, Timo.”

“You mean ‘didn’t’ —?”

“That’s just stupid. You’re incredible.”

“I know.” Timo was offended. How could Noah say that like some big shock?

Had he just noticed? Was the free home not a clue?

The proposal? The Eiffel Tower? What did it take to spell out incredible to this man?

Reading out a bit of Russian, apparently.

Timo should have tried this a month ago. No accounting for taste.

Of course, Timo forgave him, as always. Noah required so much patience. He was lucky to have someone as forbearing as Timo.

They got as far as half undressing one another before Timo pulled Noah to the bedroom to finally introduce handcuffs and blindfold. Nothing extreme, just a bit of fun and make sure Noah saw them the same way.

Noah kept breaking kisses to talk about that silly book.

Did adulterous novels from the 1800s have sex scenes? Timo asked and Noah had to consider the question.

“You’d be surprised. But I think it’s mostly a case of walking in on the aftermath in this, if I remember rightly. Another reason I have to reread it.”

They were on their knees on the sheet, facing each other, entirely stripped now. Timo proffered the toys.

“Hmm…” Noah eyed them with suspicion. “I’ll wear the handcuffs if you’ll wear the blindfold.”

“It doesn’t work like that. They’re both for one person.”

“Why?”

Timo opened his mouth but paused. Hmm indeed. “Okay. Happy birthday.”

“Happy engagement.” Noah smiled, catching Timo right in the dopamine and making him grin stupidly back.

“Engagement rings this week?”

“Maybe.”

As close to jumping for joy and shouting from the rooftops as he was going to get from Noah. Timo would take it.