Secrets in Edgewood: The Complete Series

by Kate Hawthorne

  “I can’t wait to compare,” Emory whispered, leaning in and nipping Calvin’s ear.

  “I don’t think relationships are supposed to be competitions,” Calvin moaned.

  “Not a competition.” Emory licked Calvin’s neck. “We should go eat some breakfast.”

  “You’re a tease.”

  Emory flung his leg out, removing his body from Calvin’s. He stood and stretched, his cock pointing toward Calvin, who looked at him with hungry eyes.

  “I’m appreciative of a home cooked breakfast,” Emory corrected.

  No one ever cooked for him. Never his mother, and definitely not his father. They didn’t have a cook, so Emory had fended for himself most the time.

  This whole thing with Graham and Calvin was new ground for him. Not only had he never been in a relationship before, but here he was effectively having two relationships at once, with two men who were at best one argument away from divorce. It wasn’t his best or brightest idea, but he liked the way he felt around them both, and they’d shown up when he hadn’t even known he needed anyone to show up.

  He turned away from Calvin before his emotions registered on his face and grabbed a pair of sleep shorts out of his dresser. He stepped into them and looked over his shoulder in time to watch Calvin tuck himself back into his pants.

  “What time is it even?” Emory yawned as they went down the stairs toward the kitchen.

  “It’s six,” Graham answered, sliding three plates of eggs and bacon across the kitchen island toward the barstools on the other side.

  “I need to get home to shower for work.” Calvin speared some eggs onto his fork and took a bite. An expression Emory couldn’t decipher flashed across his face, and he quickly shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth.

  “You could shower here,” Emory offered.

  Calvin smiled. “I can’t wear last night’s sex clothes to work.”

  “Fair point.” He tried the eggs. “These are really good, tiger.”

  “Good.” Graham tipped his chin in Emory’s direction. “Now eat up.”

  A loaded silence settled while they ate, the only sounds that of silverware scraping along the fine china plates Graham had used for breakfast.

  “We’re gonna talk about this, yeah?” Calvin pushed his plate away, not a trace of food left on it.

  “What about it?” Graham asked.

  Calvin rolled his eyes. “Are there rules? How does this work?”

  “I don’t know, boss.” Emory picked up a slice of bacon. “I’ve never done this before. You’re the seasoned expert.”

  Calvin snorted and looked to Graham expectantly.

  “Alright.” Graham chuckled and set his fork down. “Let’s see. Maybe some basic stuff first?”

  “That’s a good start.”

  “Do we do things one on one? Or is it all the three of us?” Graham looked between him and Calvin.

  “The jealous part of me wants to say all three of us, but the level-headed part of me knows that the two of you need some time to sort things out, I think.” Emory ached with the idea of Graham and Calvin being together, drowned in the fear that they’d become happy together and cast him aside. What a fool he was to get involved with two men who were so in love with each other already.

  “Graham and I can’t do it on our own,” Calvin countered. He looked to Graham with a cockeyed expression and a small shrug. “We’ve tried.”

  “He’s right,” Graham agreed. He slid his hand across the counter and reached for Emory, taking his hand and giving his fingers a steady squeeze. He reached for Calvin with the other hand and raised his fingers toward his mouth, dropping tender kisses against his knuckles.

  “So three or none,” Emory surmised.

  “For now. We’ll see if that changes.” Graham lowered the hand twined against Calvin’s to the counter. “So no getting busy in the workplace.”

  Emory inhaled sharply, the thought of sucking Calvin off in his office, or getting fucked in the back stairwell almost too much to bear.

  “And no happy hour romps on the manager’s desk,” Calvin reminded them both, and Emory’s dick hardened, peeking out the loose leg of his shorts.

  “You’re killing all my dreams,” Emory whined.

  “Kissing is okay, though. You agree?” Graham grinned.

  “Kissing I can work with,” Calvin agreed.

  “If that’s all I get.” Emory folded his arms over his chest dramatically and frowned.

  “You’re going to be late for work.” Graham stood up and collected all of their plates. “I’ll wash up and then I think we all need to go our separate ways.”

  “Does this come easy for you?” Emory stood up and arranged his erection against his leg.

  “What?” Graham deposited the plates in the sink and turned the water on.

  “It does,” Calvin affirmed. “He doesn’t even realize he does it, and that makes it all the worse when he doesn’t realize he’s stopped doing it.”

  Graham turned sharply, his mouth parted in protest, but he quickly snapped it closed and returned his attention to the sink. Calvin stepped around the island and rested a steady hand around Graham’s shoulder, leaning in to press a kiss to the back of his neck. He lay his cheek against the place he’d kissed and closed his eyes.

  “Thank you for breakfast.”

  Graham reached up with soapy fingers and covered Calvin’s hand with his.

  “Both of you, go get ready.” Graham patted Calvin’s hand and continued to wash the dishes.

  “Come on, boss.” Emory tugged Calvin away from Graham and guided him upstairs. “Are you sure you don’t want to shower really quick?”

  “I’m sure.” Calvin pulled him close and kissed him. “Maybe another day I can get ready for work in your house.”

  Emory winced, but backpedaled, patting his hands against Calvin’s chest reassuringly.

  “That wasn’t what you think it was. It wasn’t you.” Emory slid his hands up to Calvin’s neck and twisted his fingers together, toying with the short hairs at the base of his neck. “I want you in my space. Both of you. It’s this house I don’t want. It doesn’t feel like it’s mine.”

  “What are you going to do with it?” Calvin smiled and worked himself out from Emory’s hold. He picked his shirt up from the floor and slipped his arms into it, buttoning up from the bottom.

  “Sell it, though I’m not sure there’s a demand for ten-thousand square foot monstrosities in Edgewood.” Emory kicked out of his shorts.

  “Maybe sell it to a developer,” Calvin suggested. “Let them raze it.”

  “That’s the second best idea I’ve heard all day.”

  “What’s the first?” Calvin sat on the edge of the bed and put his shoes and socks on.

  “Sucking your cock under your desk at work.”

  Calvin raised an eyebrow.

  “Just an idea I had,” Emory elaborated. “While Graham was setting the rules.”

  “Lighter fluid is right,” Calvin mumbled under his breath.

  “I’ll see you at work, boss.” Emory winked and stepped into the hallway. Calvin joined him, wrapping his arms around Emory’s waist and pulling their bodies together.

  “It’s going to be hard to keep my hands off you.”

  “You have to.” Emory smirked, “Think of what your husband would do if he finds out. Oh! Before you go…”

  Emory tugged Calvin back into the bedroom and opened one of his dresser drawers. He ran his finger across the rows of brightly colored silk ties and settled on one that was swirls of green paisley in varying shades. He plucked it out and tucked it into Calvin’s hand.

  “Wear this one today.” He raised onto his toes and dropped a kiss against Calvin’s hot cheek.

  “Alright.”

  “Think of me when you put it on.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  Emory smiled and spun on his heel. “Now I have to get ready for work or my boss is gonna kill me.”

  “I
doubt that.”

  “Go home, boss.” Emory rolled his eyes. “Tell your husband I’ll see him soon.”

  Calvin nodded and headed down the stairs.

  Emory slipped into the bathroom and turned the shower on. While he waited for the water to heat up, he studied himself in the mirror. He prodded his face with his fingers, dragging them down his throat to his chest. He didn’t look any different, but was certain he’d been, somehow, fundamentally changed.

  He’d never had a boyfriend before, and now he had two.

  Two boyfriends who were married, and who inexplicably wanted him between them.

  He feared he was a crutch, a band aid meant to get them through the other side of their marital issues, but he hoped that wasn’t the case.

  Emory stepped into the shower and wet his hair, the hot water ran down his back into the crack of his ass and he winced, the sting still present from Graham’s penetration last night. He reached back and slipped his fingers between his cheeks, pushing lightly at his hole and he smiled, pleased with the spark of pain that shot through him when he pushed the tip of his forefinger inside.

  His cock leaked precum and he fisted his shaft, jerking himself roughly while teasing his hole with the other hand. He came quickly, crying out as he painted the wall of the shower with his release. Emory caught his breath, then grabbed his loofah and soap, washing himself and rinsing before stepping out of the shower to finish getting ready for work.

  Downstairs, he found the house empty, his father’s office glaringly vacant. He’d need to talk to Carson and Peterson sooner rather than later. The quicker he could get the house on the market, the sooner he could buy himself something else. He paused in the doorway of the study and hoped there wasn’t something wrong with him. He didn’t feel loss, or anguish, or anything toward the death of his father beyond a cool, calm relief.

  He knew he wasn’t broken, though. He had other feelings. Strong and vibrant and desperate feelings that swirled around him like a haze of lust. Graham and Calvin may want him for nothing more than what Emory could give them, but at least what he could give them was himself and not his name.

  Emory straightened his tie and pulled open the front door, ready to face the world.

  Sixteen

  Calvin

  “New tie?” Monica collapsed into one of the chairs across from Calvin’s desk.

  He reached up and smoothed a hand over the textured green silk. “How did you know?”

  “It’s not you.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

  “Why do people keep saying things like that to me?”

  “It means you wear black ties. Sometimes navy. Maybe gray.”

  Calvin looked down at the colorful green swirls and thought about Emory and Graham.

  “It was a gift,” he supplied.

  Monica raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Don’t.” He shook his head. “I won’t tell you anything.”

  “Is it not from your husband, then?”

  “I didn’t know you knew I was married,” he admitted, cheeks coloring. He reached for his coffee and took a drink.

  “Zach told me when I got hired.”

  Calvin bristled. “Not really his business.”

  “He didn’t mean it maliciously,” Monica assured him. “More of…in explanation I think.”

  “Of?”

  “Why you’re so bristly sometimes.” Monica smiled at him.

  “I’m not bristly,” he grumbled.

  “You get cranky sometimes, but only when you’ve had too much time to be introspective. It’s dangerous to leave you alone with yourself.”

  “That’s an interesting observation from someone who isn’t even an out of office friend.”

  “I’m your work spouse. That’s the term you were looking for. I see you more than you’d see your husband, if you were still with him, and I see you more than whoever bought you that tie.”

  “No one bought it,” he corrected. “It’s on loan.”

  Monica’s lips pulled into a knowing smile. “That’s even better then, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, good. You’re both here.” Zach stepped into his office with his hands in his pockets. He leaned against Calvin’s door and crossed his legs at the ankles.

  “We’re here,” Monica confirmed with a rough exhale.

  Calvin fought a smile, appreciating the way Monica handled their boss when it was obvious that she couldn’t stand him. Calvin didn’t care for him much either, but Zach mostly stayed out of his way. Except about Emory, which was the first time Zach had ever meddled in the way Calvin did business.

  “Is your paralegal here yet?” Zach pushed Calvin’s door closed.

  “I haven’t seen him,” he answered, his palms already sweaty and his adrenaline spiking. There was no way Zach could know what had happened between them last night, or even the week prior when they’d gone out. Last week he could explain away as an under-attended office happy hour, maybe. But, no. It couldn’t be anything like that. He would have sent Monica out if it had been. Calvin hoped, at least.

  “His father died last night.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” Monica covered her mouth with her hands. “That poor child.”

  Calvin grimaced. Emory wasn’t a child, but he wasn’t trying to be pedantic.

  “As you know, Emory is an Edgewood, and the Edgewood estate is…substantial.”

  “Obviously.”

  Zach looked between him and Monica. “I want you to talk to him when he gets in and bring him in as a client.”

  “He works here,” Calvin reminded Zach.

  “He does, which makes our firm the best choice to represent his interests in this trying time.” Zach folded his arms across his chest.

  “That seems like…taking advantage?” Calvin leaned back in his chair, hoping he looked casually uninvested.

  “It seems like a windfall for Oglethorpe and Schulz, is what it seems like.”

  Monica darted her eyes toward Calvin, then down to the floor.

  “There might be a partnership in it.” Zach shrugged. “You’ve been here quite a while now, Calvin.”

  There was no way Calvin was going to push Emory to transfer anything from his family lawyer to Oglethorpe and Schulz, partnership be damned.

  “Duly noted.” He nodded.

  Zach opened the door straight into Emory’s waiting knock. “Oh, Emory, good morning. I heard about your father. You’re more than welcome to take the rest of the week off if you need time to mourn, to get his affairs in order.”

  Calvin clenched his jaw together to stop himself from spitting a biting remark in Zach’s face.

  “Thanks,” Emory said with a small lift of his shoulders. “Charlie Carson has it under control, so I’m letting him do what needs to be done.”

  “Of course.” Zach stepped into the hall and patted Emory on the shoulder. “Well, if there’s anything we can do for you, let us know.”

  “Emory, I’m so sorry to hear about your dad.” Monica stood up and extended a hand toward Emory. He slipped his palm against hers and she covered his hand with her other one, giving him a squeeze. “I have a phone call to make, but are you available to meet with Mr. Grayson for me after lunch? I forgot to ask yesterday.”

  “Sure. Of course.” Emory nodded. “And thank you, but it’s really not such a loss.”

  Monica released his hand, slinking by and returning to her own office. Emory pushed the door closed behind him and dropped into the chair she’d previously occupied.

  “Nice tie.” he smirked.

  “This old thing?” Calvin chuckled. “Monica asked me about it.”

  “Did she?”

  “She said it was out of character for me to wear so much color.”

  “She’s not wrong.” Emory unbuttoned his black suit jacket, revealing a burst of colorful flowers on his tie that faded to black the higher the decoration crept toward his throat.

  “You look properly in mourning.”

  “Damn. I knew I should have wo
rn red.”

  “I think you’re in shock.”

  “Definitely not in shock,” Emory assured him.

  “Alright,” Calvin conceded. “How are you feeling about other things?”

  “Honestly?” Emory leaned across the desk and snatched Calvin’s coffee, taking a drink before returning the mug to its coaster. “I think this is a terrible idea. I’m going to lose in the end, but I’m okay with it.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “It’s not going to end well, and you’re delusional if you think otherwise.” Emory stood up and buttoned his suit. “You and Graham are either going to get back to your happy place and not need me anymore, or you’re going to implode and not want me anymore.”

  “You can’t possibly think that,” Calvin whispered, his eyes following Emory’s movements around his office.

  “How do you think it’s gonna go, boss? The three of us get a happily ever after?” Emory snorted. “I’m being realistic.”

  “You’re not. The things with Graham and me…” Calvin cleared his throat. “From last night. That wasn’t us. I mean, it used to be, but it hasn’t been in a really long time. Last night was all you, so please don’t try to discredit your involvement.”

  “Sure thing, boss.” Emory nodded and cast him a disbelieving look.

  Calvin pushed his chair back and stalked toward Emory, boxing him in against the closed door.

  “I’m being serious.”

  “I know you believe that.” Emory closed his eyes, lashes fanning out and disappearing against the pale coloring of his cheeks.

  “Hush.” Calvin leaned closer and whispered the plea into Emory’s ear.

  “Do you ever top, boss?” Emory pressed forward and nipped at Calvin’s ear.

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “I’m trying to.”

  “Rarely,” Calvin answered.

  “By choice?” Emory bit harder.

  Calvin growled. “I like the way Graham fucks.”

  “So do I, but I’d love to see what this cock can do.” Emory snaked a hand between them and brushed his palm over Calvin’s crotch.

  “Only kissing,” Calvin exhaled, batting Emory’s hand away. Emory grabbed his fingers and turned his hand, pushing his palm against the bulge between Emory’s legs.