From down the hall came gleeful shouts, kids hiding and seeking, all eagerness and excitement.
Excitement he wanted to take part in.
With a sigh, he shoved aside half of the sheet that covered a mahogany desk and got busy on his laptop. A long string of angry work emails demanded Rohan’s immediate attention.
Where was the enthusiasm he’d had for this only four weeks ago? In London, he’d dragged himself into discussion at three in the morning. Done it with smirk.
This sudden reluctance didn’t bode well. Heading SmallQ meant living SmallQ. Weekends off? Nothing he could rely on.
He should get used to it.
A gush of air pushed the paper he was doodling on while talking to Japan.
Casey walked in. “I h-have to hide.”
Rohan put his speaker on mute and gestured her in. She walked in and hid behind the long thick curtains that hadn’t been drawn.
Rohan wrapped up his call. Sighed.
Casey peeked out at him through the gap. “Why aren’t you playing?”
“I want to, Casey. But . . . .”
“You work hard.”
He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “I like it.” Usually. This was an off day.
They happened.
“Okay.” Casey smiled. “Keep working. Shhh.” She covered her face as Duke barreled into the room. Duke jerked to a halt when he saw Rohan sitting at the desk. He blinked at the room with the sheets still covering most of the furniture, the unorganized mess of electronics on the desk.
“Well, well, look who I found,” Duke said dryly. “I thought you were in your room, getting ready to head into the office.”
Rohan leaned back in the old leather chair. “I figure I can finish most of it from here.”
“With us around?”
“I like you around.”
Duke blinked and rocked back on his heels, lost for words. He flustered, and a charming innocence crossed Duke’s face. It too quickly disappeared behind a shrug. “You’re all words. If you liked us around, you’d spend the time with us, too.”
Rohan desperately wanted to snag the blatant dare. He had another two calls to make overseas, though.
Duke turned away and pretended to hunt for Casey a little longer, then threw back the curtains. Light slammed into Rohan’s face. Casey laughed and Duke said they still needed to find Bianca.
They left the room while Rohan adjusted to the harsh brightness of the day.
He picked up his cell phone and began his next call. Sacrifice made good things happen. SmallQ would make his family proud and give his mom, dad, and sister the respect they deserved, not to mention prove he was boss to the bone.
His hollowing chest? Just another price to pay.
Duke brought the kids over every day the following week.
As much as he envied Bianca, he actually secretly respected her. She had boundless energy and participated in all the silly games Duke made up for the twins.
Casey loved Jones and Janine, too. In fact, she was so spirited in being a host, it was giving Duke ideas . . . .
Ideas that grew wildly into fully-fledged daydreams of the future.
“Too many rooms!” Casey said as they counted how many cushions they would have to sew to have matching ones in every guest room.
“We don’t have to sew so many,” Duke said as they paraded into the drawing room decked with swathes of fabric and sewing machines.
Bianca entertained Jones and Janine, dressing them up in leftover fabric; Rohan, head bent over one of Casey’s cushions, was stitching up the zipper as instructed.
“We need another fifty-two cushions,” she declared.
Rohan jerked midstitch. He inspected his lightly pricked finger.
Duke crossed to him, making a sad face. “Is it an ouchy-ouchy?”
Rohan brought his bleeding middle finger to his mouth. Casey had drifted to check the twins’ costumes, leaving Duke and Rohan alone in the back of the room. He sat on an armchair similar to the gray one in his room.
His gaze glittered with humor.
Duke grabbed his own cushion from the low table between them. “Is the no-bullshit businessman taken down by a needle?”
“Not by a needle.”
Duke stilled, the laughter dissolving off his tongue.
Rohan cleared his throat and lifted a small set of scissors. “These.”
“Of course,” Duke said, and forced another laugh.
“Why fifty-two more cushions?”
“Four for each of the sixteen guest rooms. Minus what we’ve done so far.”
“That’ll take more than a day.”
“I think Casey wants a reason to be invited back more often.”
Rohan looked across the room.
His phone shrilled on the table.
“Looks like you’ve got work to do,” Duke said.
Rohan picked up the phone, glanced at the screen, and hesitated. “I’ll call back tonight, once the kids are home.”
* * *
In the dead of night, when the manor was quiet, Duke stole into Rohan’s room and sank his cock deep into his cousin.
It was another night of the most intense sex Duke had ever had.
Stolen hours of unrestrained pounding, trying as hard as he could to fuck his feelings out of his system.
Impossible, when afterward Rohan wrapped Duke in his arms and brushed his lips over the mole at the back of Duke’s neck.
The ghost of that touch haunted him during the day. Made him do things he shouldn’t, like smile to himself and imagine this was their future.
Exactly what he was doing at the ice-skating rink as Duke was watching Rohan race Casey and the twins the length of the rink. Duke sidled past Bianca, who preferred to stay off the ice and was taking pictures instead. She caught his arm before he hit the smooth ice, and he whipped up a brow.
“What do you think? Good picture, right?”
She had captured Rohan and Janine laughing. Rohan’s glittery eyes creased gently at the side.
“He is such an amazing man.” She looked at him, a small smile at her lips. “Don’t you think?”
Amazing? She didn’t know the half of it. “He’s all right.”
A soft sigh. “You really dislike me.”
“No,” Duke said. “I dislike the idea of you. You’re fun, Bianca. But I don’t like the lie.”
“Funny you don’t like lies, when you are obviously lying every day.”
He spluttered. “What?”
She looked from Duke to Rohan. “Never mind. I know being Rohan’s beard isn’t ideal, but it’s the least I can do to thank him.”
Duke frowned.
“I mean,” Bianca continued, “Rohan saved me from losing my kids.”
“What?”
Bianca lifted her phone and the camera app made a shutter sound as it took his picture. “He didn’t tell you?”
Duke pulled her back to the bench. “Tell me everything.”
She told him how Rohan had helped her, how he had personally stood in court as a character reference and used all his influence to fight Bianca’s manipulative ex. She also told him how good Rohan was to her girls whenever he came by. How she’d first fallen for him after every call to Casey she scheduled for him. He worked around his sister and woke in the early hours of the morning to take her call every week.
Somehow that segued into telling him how Rohan needed stitches after an accident making Duke’s birthday gift.
“Wait, my birthday gift? Casey said he cut himself sewing.”
“Sewing said gift.”
Rohan had sewn Duke a gift?
Bianca smiled. “Has he given the quilt to you yet? Do you like it?”
Duke could barely breathe. Rohan was talking to a stranger on the ice just out of earshot. He pulled cash from his wallet for a most beautiful green scarf flourished with red embroidery.
With a ridiculously proud gleam in his eye, Rohan skated to Casey and wrapped it around her
neck. Duke choked on an intake of breath as Casey hugged him tightly. Her exclamation carried. “You’re my most-most favorite.”
Rohan was Duke’s most-most favorite, too.
Fuck. He was in very real trouble.
This could only break his heart. He needed to pull back physically, mentally, emotionally.
So why was he back on the ice, skating determinedly toward Rohan?
The twins captured his arms and pulled him away, like little guardian angels who knew what was best for him.
Duke shook them off with a challenge to race them to the end.
They took off, and Duke skated back to Rohan and Casey.
Two feet before them, his blade caught in a deep groove on the ice and he tripped. He would have smacked against Rohan and knocked them both to the ground, but Rohan anticipated it. Duke thunked against him and Rohan hugged him tight as their blades slid across the ice with the force. Rohan weaved carefully, keeping them upright until they came to a safe stop.
“You must really need to talk to me,” Rohan said, amused.
Yes. “Whatever. We talk too much as it is at night.” The spongey wool of Rohan’s sweater—another Casey-made one—pressed against his palms as Rohan breathed in. A smile simmered in Rohan’s eyes.
Rohan’s face was so close to Duke’s. A kiss sat on both their lips, ready for the taking if either of them dared enough to take it.
But it was daytime. Out in public.
Duke wasn’t meant to have feelings for Rohan.
Rohan couldn’t afford to have them for Duke.
A sad, cowardly impasse.
“What do you want to tell me, Duke?” Rohan asked quietly, brows rising in query.
He was meant to push himself away. Wasn’t meant to be stroking his fingertips against his chest like this. Stupidity and hope rooted him there. Why, of all the men he’d met and been with, did it have to be his cousin his heart ached for the most?
“Is this a conversation you’d like someplace private?” Rohan asked.
“A quilt?” he said softly, dropping his gaze.
Rohan rubbed his upper arms. “Look at me, Duke.”
Duke responded to the soft demand and looked at him. Rohan studied him like it was the first time he’d seen Duke without a quip to toss. Without the shield of bullshit.
Maybe it was the first time.
The first time Duke let him see, anyway.
His heart thundered, every pulse sending a nervous shiver through him.
“The quilt,” Rohan said. “I never quite finished it.”
“Oh.” Duke struggled to ask. “Why would you make something yourself?”
“I thought it might bring our relationship back on track.”
“Then I took that video, and you stopped making it.”
“I was hurt. I misunderstood the intention of that video.” Rohan drew back a foot. “Can we talk more later?”
Duke sighed as Casey rolled up to them, Jones and Janine on her heels. He nodded. He had a whole afternoon to calm himself down.
* * *
Calming down seemed an impossible task.
All six of them battled with Lego bricks in the second, larger west gallery. Three teams of two. They had to make the tallest construction, the fastest they could—only retrieving one Lego block at a time from the bucket in the center of the room.
Their towers had to stand without support.
Jones kept tugging his sleeve and giving hysterical commands for what Duke needed to do next. Duke was determined to keep their tower from falling. For Jones, for the fun of the game, most of all for himself.
If he couldn’t get a grip, the very least he could do was keep his tower from toppling.
Rohan looked so much kinder on his knees next to Janine, building their tower.
He had worn the knitted sweater Casey made him, the baby blues lending warmth to his eyes. It was a lot more relaxed and comfortable than the suits he wore. Just as tempting to take off . . . .
The tower. Jones. Focus.
Duke peeked over at Rohan again; his eyes were rooted to the task. He finished setting a block and immediately crawled for another block.
“Quick!” Jones said, fretting over their wobbling tower.
Duke scrambled into the middle of the room and plunged a hand into the large box. Only two pieces left. One short piece, and the long piece he needed.
Rohan sank his hand in at the same time. Grabbed the opposite end of Duke’s prize.
Their fingers brushed. Such a simple touch, yet it spindled through Duke like a dance. He snagged Rohan’s sneaky look. Rohan tugged.
Duke lifted a cocky brow. “Not yours.”
Rohan’s gray eyes held a teasing light. “Not mine? You sure about that?”
He cast his gaze to their hands. His grip on the Lego piece lessened. Not his. But wouldn’t it be nice, if . . . .
He shook his head. Rohan’s tower needed this piece to stand proudly.
Duke almost let go. Let him have it.
Behind them, Casey laughed. Told Bianca to fetch another block.
Duke’s grip doubled. “What are you willing to give up for it?”
Rohan hesitated, shrewd eyes roaming over his face. For the barest moment, his hold on the piece tightened, and with it, Duke’s heart pounded.
Bianca reached between them, and Rohan’s fingers slackened around the piece.
Duke snatched it, fighting the sting behind his eyes with a laugh. “Thanks.”
At least his tower would stand on its own.
* * *
After dinner, Rohan insisted on taking the twins back with Duke.
Barely two streets from the manor, the kids fell asleep. He didn’t blame them. They’d been playing all day, and it was almost nine in the evening.
Hell, Duke was wrecked, too. His wayward hair and flushed cheeks said as much. But that was nothing to how wrecked he would feel when he got home.
He glanced at Rohan behind the wheel. Duke wasn’t stupid; he knew why Rohan wanted to drop the kids off with him. They’d have uninterrupted time to themselves as they drove back to the manor. They’d pick up where they’d left off on the ice.
Talk about their relationship.
About finishing this fling between them. The Lego game had made it clear Duke needed to take a step back. Needed to move on.
Duke leaned back against the warm leather and forced his gaze out to the street. He would resist throwing himself at Rohan again. He wanted the type of love that didn’t have an expiry date stamped onto it.
Rohan’s phone rang. Through the stereo, Rohan answered a call from his mom. He smiled as they spoke.
“How’s Casey doing?”
“Great,” Duke answered in time with Rohan. “I’ll bring her back tomorrow afternoon,” Duke said.
“Will you come too, Rohan?”
“I have to work.”
“I meant to ask,” his mom said, “what shall your dad and I wear for the announcement next week?”
The announcement.
Duke rested his head against the passenger window and tried to block out Debbie’s enthusiasm. Not happening.
“. . . Actually making it. Proving your peers wrong. “
Rohan had gone silent. He gripped the wheel, lips pinched. “Lazy. Incompetent but lucky.”
A sigh. “Stop caring what other people think, love. We’re good people. That’s all that matters.”
Rohan’s jaw unlocked. “I just . . . .”
Duke understood. Possibly more than Rohan did. “Just want someone to see you. Notice you. Think you’re an amazing part of the family—uh, community,” Duke said softly.
Rohan glanced at him, and Duke shut his eyes. He didn’t want to see Rohan’s thoughts.
That made twice today he’d let Rohan see the real him. Duke was well and truly on the way to complete inner wreckage.
Rohan finished his call with his mom. “Duke . . . .”
The kids were in the back seat, though.
<
br /> “I know what I want to do when I grow up,” he blurted.
Rohan looked at him without surprise, as though Duke was his partner and he genuinely wanted to know all of Duke’s plans and would support him unconditionally.
It was the most trust anyone had ever given him.
Suddenly, he was afraid his idea wasn’t good enough. “It’s probably stupid.”
“Start again,” Rohan said. “Without the self-loathing commentary. You know what you want to do . . . .”
“The manor has so many unused rooms. I’ve been imagining what it would be like if we turned it into a bed-and-breakfast.”
“We?”
“Casey and I,” he amended quickly. Although in some of his daydreams, Rohan had been running it with them. Rohan dealing with the business and marketing, Duke the day-to-day management. Casey could work part-time as it fit her schedule. She could host, lead day programs, or help design the guest rooms with her signature sewing projects.
“You’re quiet,” Duke said. “It is stupid—”
Rohan pinned him with a look and Duke zipped it.
“I think it’s a brilliant idea.”
“Really?”
“Really. In fact—”
Another call shrilled between them. Work this time. Rohan hesitated. Answered. His voice was firm. No bullshit.
Duke tingled at the tone. It was the same one Rohan used manhandling Duke in bed.
But this call, Rohan’s mom, and Bianca proved that there was no future between them. Duke had to end this fling.
His hands squealed where he clutched the sides of his seat. He shifted. Crossed his arms. Dropped them again. Tic Tac time.
He leaned forward and snicked open the glove box an inch.
“Don’t open that!” Rohan said. He abruptly ended his call and snapped the glovebox shut.
“What are you hiding?” Duke batted Rohan’s hand away and reopened. A little light popped on and Duke saw it.
A small velvet jewelry box.
His stomach twisted when he opened the furry box. A simple, pretty diamond ring sat on a satiny cushion.
“I haven’t given it to Bianca yet.”
“No shit.” He closed the box and shoved it back. “You plan on dropping down on one knee when you fake a proposal? Maybe the day after tomorrow, with everyone watching?”
Daring Duke: Love Letters #4 Page 10