by RJ Scott
“Come on.” Rowan tugged Gideon to the door through which everyone had left. “I don’t want to miss out on champagne!” The smaller room decorated with simple flowers opened up into a bigger room with a few round tables, a large cake, and horrifically, a dance floor. Gideon nearly turned and ran. He could face down multinational corporations, defend his staff and friends to the death, discuss terms with the richest families in the US, and sometimes in foreign countries. He could maneuver his way through the trickiest of negotiations and shield his company, but the thought of a dance floor, which meant dancing?
Nope. Not happening.
Gideon deliberately chose a table near the door—for a swift exit—then changed his mind when that was also too close to the dance area then went to the back but quickly realized he’d be hemmed in again, and then he simply just stopped walking.
“Here, boss.” Rowan encouraged him to sit, and in Rowan’s capable way, he’d found a seat equidistant between dancing, cake, and freedom. He didn’t ask Gideon why he was standing there like an idiot. He just dealt with it, but they weren’t at work. This was a social situation, and Gideon wasn’t a freaking idiot.
“I can find my own damn table,” Gideon snapped.
Rowan blinked at him and pointed at the table in front of which they were standing and a small card that had Gideon Bryant handwritten on it. He was sandwiched between Adrian’s sister, Abby, and Rowan. Sitting in his chair, he settled in for whatever happened next. Well shit, he hadn’t seen the card.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
Rowan smiled at him, in reassurance maybe?
“S’okay boss. Here, have some champagne.”
Maybe I shouldn’t drink? Maybe I should stick to water and then I could keep my head and not ask Rowan why the hell he’s marrying some guy I’ve never even met.
But the champagne sure tasted nice.
Two
Rowan
I’m not bothered. It doesn’t bother me…Rowan ran his index finger around the rim of his champagne flute as he fixed his gaze straight ahead. He nibbled his lower lip. Gideon was fidgeting with his phone.
I’m lying. It definitely does bother me. The phone had rung a few times and each time Gideon picked up the phone, huffed, and then canceled the call before turning the phone upside down as if he didn’t care.
“If you’re not going to answer it, just turn it off.” Rowan picked up his glass and took a long drink.
“I can’t just turn it off,” Gideon said with a sigh and placed his cell phone face down on the low coffee table. Again.
The grooms were off on an intimate photoshoot, and the guests were left to their own devices as music played in the main room.
“Who are you avoiding anyway? It’s you, so it’s definitely nobody work related. Oh, do you have a stalker? Maybe a secret lover?” Rowan knew he sounded a little too excited about those possibilities but Nosy might as well have been his middle name.
Gideon shook his head and made a gruff sound. “Who the hell would want to stalk me?”
Rowan leaned his head. “Well, if I had nothing better to do.” He laughed.
“How are last month’s accounts coming along?” Gideon looked at him pointedly.
With a chuckle, Rowan finished his drink and got to his feet. “Would you like another drink?”
“That well, huh?” Gideon quirked an eyebrow at Rowan’s obvious attempt to swerve the topic of work.
With a smile, Rowan leaned down and looked into Gideon’s blue eyes. “Have I ever let you down?” He cast his eyes downward, briefly lingering on Gideon’s lips, noting the stray gray whiskers in his neatly trimmed beard, before settling on the pale blue tie tucked beneath his buttoned waistcoat.
“Maybe you should slow down with the alcohol,” Gideon suggested, sitting back.
“Or maybe you should speed up,” Rowan teased. He pursed his lips. He felt odd. Something fluttered in his chest. Maybe Gideon was right.
Too many bubbles with lunch.
“I’m fine, really,” Rowan said and straightened up. “I’m just loosening up for the dance floor.” He glanced at Gideon, who stiffened as if Rowan had just made a threat on his life. “It should be a good night, right?” He knew full well that the idea of dancing the evening away was far from anything Gideon would consider a “good” night. “Oh, maybe they’ll take requests. I could totally go for some Gaga right about now.”
Gideon cleared his throat and looked anywhere except at Rowan.
Definitely too many bubbles. Gaga had been off limits all this time and all Rowan could think was why did he even say that? He didn’t want things to be weird between them again.
“Or maybe Beyoncé,” Rowan added quickly to drive his one-sided ramblings forward. “But it is almost Christmas, so Mariah would be perfect.” He picked up his empty glass. “Anyway.” I really need to shut up. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”
Gideon reached for his glass. “Maybe later.” He raised his drink to his mouth and for a moment Rowan was mesmerized by Gideon’s parted lips.
Alcohol is the devil. His brain was focusing on all the wrong things. Wrong, bad, terrible things.
Maybe Mom and Momo are right, and I should find myself a man. He walked to the bar, glancing back at Gideon. Yeah, he needed to find a man—any man who wasn’t his boss.
Returning to the table and setting his drink on it, they fell into an easy silence, or at least it should have been easy apart from Gideon staring at him every so often.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” Rowan asked after the fourth staring session.
“Who is he? Is he a client? You know you shouldn’t marry clients.” Gideon frowned as he spoke.
“Wait—are you saying you have an issue with Darcy and Adrian marrying? Because you know technically Adrian wasn’t a client—”
“No, of course not. It’s you I have an issue with.”
“Huh?” Rowan was bewildered at Gideon’s statement.
“I have an issue with you crossing a line and marrying a client.”
“Okay. Then I won’t.”
Gideon sighed noisily. “Well, who is he then and how did you meet him?”
“Who’s who? I’m confused.”
“The man you’re marrying on Christmas.”
“What man?”
“You said you were getting married, and you wanted it to be on Christmas.”
“Gids, I was talking hypothetically.”
“It’s Gideon, and good.” Gideon huffed and deliberately turned his chair to face away from Rowan, pretending to stare out the window.
Interesting.
“I need a drink and then dancing,” Rowan said and that ended the subject of Gideon getting the wrong end of the stick.
At some point in the evening Rowan found himself dancing with Darcy’s mom. He hadn’t seen Katy Bridges in almost twenty years. Not since he and Darcy graduated high school and ventured out into the big world and onto separate life and career paths.
Though, somehow, we ended up together again in the end.
Being around Katy felt weirdly nostalgic. Rowan remembered his old house, how he and Darcy had become friends in kindergarten, not long after he was fostered by Mom and Momo and then adopted.
Twenty years, huh?
Had it really been that long? His foster parents moved the year before he left home, wanting more space inside and out for the children they took in. Christmas time at their house was a large jumble of people, and he found himself going back every year, he and the kids who had been adopted and had become his siblings. That feeling was everything to him. Family. Seeing Katy and talking about times back then elicited that same warmth, and it was as if he was a teenager again, the same swell of excitement rising in his chest as the times he and Darcy would sneak out to meet at night, doing the things teenagers found themselves doing.
I was a bad influence.
Rowan made his way off the dance floor, stopping at the bar before walking back t
o the table. He took a long drink of soda. Hiccupping as the tepid fizzy liquid hit the back of his throat. He noted the empty chairs, and for a moment wondered if Gideon had given him the slip and headed to the hotel. No. His jacket was still hanging on the back of the chair.
Where is he? Rowan checked his cell phone. Should he call him? Or would that be weird? He wasn’t Gideon’s PA tonight, and Gideon was a grown-ass man who could do as he pleased.
But we’re friends. And this friend was curious where the other had run off to.
Rowan pocketed his cell and eyed Gideon’s jacket. Doubt crept in.
Are we friends? Or was work all they had? Did it matter?
Alcohol caused ridiculous questions to spiral around his skull.
Whatever Gideon was to him, all Rowan knew was that he kind of cared about him, and the fact Gideon had been avoiding calls all evening had him annoyed, curious, and a little bit concerned.
I should look for him.
He didn’t have to search for long. Rounding a corner, Rowan found Gideon leaning against a doorway overlooking a small patio. Gideon had his back turned and was on his cell. His free hand cradled his chest against the December air that blew in through the open door. Rowan kept his distance, backing away and dropping into a chair against the wall to wait.
“You’re really ditching me this year?” Gideon said. “Yes, I know you two just got back together, again. I—”
Rowan leaned his head against the wall and listened.
“Sis, I get you want to be with him, but his family as well? You hate them, even he hates them. Sorry, hate is maybe too strong a word but—what?” Gideon gave a hollow laugh. “Money. Of course, that’s the reason. So, it’s another get rich quick scheme, and he thinks he can talk his brother into investing? Yeah, I thought so.”
Rowan shifted in his seat. He shouldn’t be listening to this. Gideon never really talked about his family. It had been the same for Kaden. Seemed family was complicated for both of them.
“I’ve told you before. If you need money, I’ll help you. You. But I won’t support any of his flights of fancy. No, I’m not trying to start a fight. There’s plenty of that with Mom and Dad. I know. No. Just forget what I said. I’m sure you’ll have a great time. Yes. It’s fine, I’ll figure something out. Just…you know where I am if you need me.” His tone was laced with defeat. “Bye, Grace.”
What should I do? If he stayed there, Gideon might catch him and that would be damn awkward. Rowan mustered the courage to lean out of his seat and checked around the corner just as Gideon stepped outside. The translucent drape bellowed in the open door and Rowan could make out Gideon’s silhouette beneath an exterior light on the patio.
Sitting here won’t solve anything. He stood, fastened the button of his vest, and followed after Gideon.
“Oh, there you are,” he said as if he’d found Gideon by chance. “I thought you’d ditched me for that cute waiter from dinner.” He kept his tone playful.
“Cute waiter?” Gideon asked as he brought up his shoulders.
Rowan shook his head. “Never mind.” He breathed in sharply through his teeth and rubbed his shoulder. “What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death.” He stepped closer, bumped his elbow to Gideon’s. “Then who would keep me in line?”
With a chuckle, Gideon glanced up at the sky. “I needed a minute.”
“Is everything okay?”
There was a pause, but Gideon eventually said, “Yes. I’m fine. It was just getting a little stuffy in that room.” He took a deep breath and turned to face Rowan properly. Despite his smile, there was an air of something that left Rowan on edge.
“Did you want something?” Gideon asked as they headed back inside. “You seemed to be having fun when I left.”
“Nothing really. You weren’t at the table, so I thought I’d take a break and look for you.”
“Well, you found me.”
The music grew louder as they made their way along the corridor.
Rowan tugged the back of Gideon’s shirt, bringing him to a stop. He knew if they went back in that room the music would drown out the ease of their conversation. But Rowan couldn’t think of a single thing he wanted to say, other than wanting to be near Gideon to make sure things really were all right with him.
I want him to know I care. And yet, I don’t.
“Do you want a drink?” he suggested.
Gideon shook his head. “I think I’ve had enough.”
Rejected.
Heat rose in his cheeks. “Right. Erm…bathroom.” Rowan waved his hand in the vague direction of the bathrooms. “I’ll see you later?”
“You okay on your own?” Gideon raised his eyebrow as Rowan pressed his hand to the wall to steady himself.
Rowan laughed. “I think I can manage.”
“I didn’t mean…” Gideon looked flustered. “Whatever.” He gave a stiff wave and kept walking.
Now there’s a nice view. Rowan chewed on his thumbnail as he appreciated the lines of Gideon’s body. The man looked damn fine all dressed up, as always. Had he ever seen Gideon in anything but a suit? A naughty image popped into his head, warping the true meaning of the question. I meant something casual. Jeans. A T-shirt. Ugh. He pushed away from the wall and followed the signs to the bathroom. What was I even thinking? There is no way I should be leering after my boss, despite how fine he is.
Advice Rowan clearly ignored when he ended up rescuing Gideon. At some point, Gideon had been coerced out of his seat by Paula, Adrian’s mother, caught in a series of hugs and was manhandled into the center of the room. Like a bunny tormented by a predator, Gideon had looked helpless, and Rowan couldn’t ignore the puppy-eye pleas to be rescued, cutting in to take his hand and lead him to the other side of the dance floor.
“You’re really hating this aren’t you?” Rowan pressed one palm to Gideon’s waist and gently squeezed Gideon’s hand with his other as they slowly turned in a circle on the dance floor. The day was almost over as they settled into the part where the songs slowed and those who made it through to the end came together as friends, family, couples to lock hands, hold shoulders, and say goodnight.
“Yes,” Gideon uttered.
“I can hand you back to Paula if you prefer.”
Panic widened Gideon’s eyes. “Don’t you dare. I’m ordering you to stay right here.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Gideon turned his head, seemingly avoiding Rowan’s gaze.
Ah, whatever. It had been interesting to see Gideon flustered, a rare side of the usually serious and controlled man where his emotions were concerned.
“Stop smiling.”
Rowan blinked. “Smiling? Who’s smiling?”
“You. You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I guess I am,” he said. It had taken them a while to find any kind of rhythm together, and though it was nothing groundbreaking, the fact they could match one another and simply sway to the slow beat was enough.
Gideon side-eyed him. “Well, don’t.” He straightened, mistiming his footing and stepping on Rowan’s toes. “Sorry. I’m bad at this.”
Rowan chuckled, briefly pulling Gideon close. “Just relax. Loosen up.” He pushed against Gideon’s hip to encourage him to move, but Gideon gave him a blank look and seemed even more tense. “Never mind, this is good too.”
Feedback whined briefly from the speakers, interrupting the fading melody as the DJ announced the last song for the evening, and suddenly Rowan found Gideon pulled from his arms. Darcy appeared between them, gripping their shoulders as they were brought into one large circle with whoever had remained until the end. He grinned as Darcy planted a wet kiss to the side of his face. He smelled of alcohol and sweat, but he looked beyond happy.
Darcy Bridges had tied the knot. Rowan never thought he’d see the day his friend would be so in love and equally loved. From the scrappy kindergartener to an awkward teen, through coming out, finding himself, choosing a career only to be forced
to leave. Darcy had come a long way in those thirty years.
I guess we both have. Rowan’s life had taken a few detours, but he was here, and he was content, and a large part of that was thanks to Gideon and him taking a chance on Rowan when he was at a low point. Leaning forward, he caught sight of Gideon, who appeared to have given in to the inevitable. Darcy had his arm around Gideon’s shoulder, pulling him in tightly and Gideon smiled. An awkward but honest smile.
Rowan looked away as the same fluttering sensation from earlier warmed his chest. He didn’t know if he could still blame the champagne from earlier, or maybe it was the fizzy soda this time, but whatever it was, he would cherish the moments he’d gotten to spend with Gideon. Tomorrow they would be back in the office.
And back to reality.
Three
Rowan
“Ugh.” Rowan groaned and pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the passenger door window. He and Gideon were in the back of a taxi headed for their hotel. “This is your fault,” he grumbled.
“How so?” Gideon asked. His voice was calm, soothing.
“You didn’t watch over your staff and stop them from drinking way too much. You’re a sucky boss.”
“If that’s the case, should I expect your resignation letter on my desk tomorrow afternoon?” Gideon side-eyed him.
What is with him?
There was no expression on Gideon’s face for Rowan to read and Rowan was irked. “You know, I’m starting to get the impression you’re actually trying to get rid of me.” He did his best to keep his tone light. He pressed his hand to his mouth when the back of his throat prickled from the burn of alcohol rising. Gideon didn’t refute, and Rowan’s heart clenched.
Alcohol had stirred his emotions, but not so much that he had no control over them. Don’t react. Don’t. You’ll just look like an idiot in the morning.