by Lisa Worrall
"We're not exactly what you would call conformists," Scott said, rubbing the back of his hand on Will's thigh. "Are we, babe?"
"Nope, we're always open to new ideas." Will extricated his fingers from Scott's, lifted his arm and draped it around Scott's shoulders.
"That's nice to hear," Marcus said, settling back against the cushions. "We have a set of standard questions for you to answer then we'll have a break and discussion between ourselves. If we all think you'll both fit in well with our set-up, we can discuss the extra activities that Laurel Heights has to offer and see where we go from there." He gave the two men a reassuring smile. "We fully understand that Laurel Heights may not be to everyone's tastes—so if, at any time during the interview, you feel that this is not the place for you, just say. Please don't think that you have to answer everything, especially if there are some questions that make you uncomfortable. You won't hurt our feelings."
Scott smiled, his gaze roaming over Marcus. He was a broad shouldered, handsome man with a gentle smile and laughing blue eyes. Scott was usually a good judge of character and he liked this guy's easy manner and air of calm.
Cal leaned forward in his seat and put his hand on Will's knee. "I already filled Scott and Will in on some of the finer points of Laurel Heights life." He dropped a wink at Marcus. "I don't think we'll shock them too much."
"Yes," Will agreed, glancing down at the man beside him. "Scott's pretty much un-shockable, aren't you, sweetie?"
Scott pasted a smile on his face and lifted his hand to give Will's cheek a pat that felt a lot heavier than it looked. "I've seen you first thing in the morning, peaches. Nothing shocks me anymore." His comment and Will's mock-affronted expression drew a laugh from the group of men. Although he was grateful that no one could see the hand that curled around his side, or the hefty pinch of the meat of his ass that was Will's retaliation.
"Well, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" Jay said, his gaze falling on the clipboard resting on his knees.
They made it through the standard questions easily enough. Where had they met, how long they had been together, etc. With Will rolling his eyes when he had to prompt Scott on the date they met. Scott couldn't help but smile along with the other men at some of Will's descriptions of the stories he was supposed to have written and how his nephew had reacted to them. This was a side of Will he had never seen. The man beside him was charming, engaging, and Scott found himself laughing out loud on more than one occasion.
Then they got to one of the "play it by ear" questions.
"Okay, when did you know he was "the one"?" Jay asked, leaning back against the cushions of the couch and rubbing his shoulder against Marcus's beside him.
"Why don't you take this, Scott? I can't answer it because I knew you were the one from the first moment I saw you." Will leaned in and nudged his head against Scott's in an apparently affectionate gesture.
"Sure, peaches. When did I know he was the one? Well," Scott appeared to be absentmindedly picking at a thread on Will's pants, but what he was actually doing was searching his head desperately for an interesting story. He wasn't having much luck with fabrication, so decided to stick as close to the truth as he could.
"Before I decided to go into business for myself, I worked as the in-house IT for an insurance company and I think we'd been dating for, what was it Will, about four months before Christmas?" He glanced at Will as if for verification although, of course, Will had no idea what Scott was going to say. In fact, he looked almost as enthralled as the other men as he nodded. "Yeah," Scott continued, "it was about four months and we could bring partners to the Christmas party."
He took a deep breath as he let his mind wander back to when he had looked up at the sound of Will's rich laugh across the room. "I took Will with me, and he was mingling with some of my colleagues, charming the socks of them, of course, as I knew he would. I remember I'd been kidnapped by one of the secretaries for a dance and I heard him laugh. It was weird, you know? I mean, I'd heard him laugh a million times before—but when I looked at him, it hit me, out of the blue, and I just knew." Scott looked up into Will's eyes, for the first time ever, able to let his real feelings shine through, even though Will would think it was all part of the act, he didn't have to hold back. "I wanted to hear him laugh for the rest of my life." He cleared his throat, embarrassed he'd let his control slip and smiled at the others, his cheeks flushing. "That was when I knew."
"Wow," David said, softly, an almost dreamy smile curving his lips.
"Yeah, wow," Will murmured and Scott's gaze widened as the other man bent his head to capture Scott's lips in a gentle kiss. It didn't last for very long and he pulled back with a soft snick, holding Scott's lower lip between his own for a few tantalizing moments before he released it and smiled at their audience. "Sorry, I love that story."
What the fuck is he doing? Scott's lips tingled where they'd touched Will's. By the look in Will's eyes, he was thinking the same thing.
"Okay, guys. That's most of our questions answered on the standard bit," Jay said, standing up. "We'll just go and make some refreshments and have a little chat and we'll back in about ten minutes or so." Jay walked from the room, followed by the others, and Cal closed the door as he was the last one to leave.
"What the fuck?" Scott hissed as soon as the door clicked shut. He wiped at his mouth with his fingers and glared at Will. "You freak out at the thought of PDA and then you kiss me in front of everyone?" He was stunned by Will's actions. "What is wrong with you?"
Will shrugged, lowering his voice, his cheeks aflame. "It was a good story, I got—" He stumbled over his words. "I just got caught up in the moment." He ran a shaking hand through his hair and punched Scott in the bicep. "Stop looking at me like that, asshole. You kissed me outside! You said to make it look real."
"I meant holding hands, and the odd peck on the cheek," Scott hissed back, using anger to cover his own confusion. Not to mention the urge to throw Will down on the sofa and kiss him senseless. "Not that you should stick your tongue down my throat in a room full of people. Does Amanda know how into the part you're getting?"
"Oh, fuck off," Will's mouth dropped open in amazement. "I did not stick my tongue down your throat. Stop griping, they're coming back."
David opened the door for Cal, who carried a tray laden with cups filled with steaming liquid. He gave them a beaming smile as he put the tray down on the table and handed them each a cup of coffee. "It's looking good," he muttered, and he held out the sugar bowl. Scott noted his astonishment as Will spooned three heaped teaspoons into his cup.
"He's got the palate of a five-year-old," Scott shrugged, declining sugar for his own coffee. "You'll have to forgive him. It's a miracle he has a single tooth left in his head."
"What?" Will said, his gaze flitting between the two men. "What did I do?" He frowned when Cal and Scott merely grinned at each other and sank back against the cushions to concentrate on his coffee.
Marcus helped himself to a cookie from the plate next to the sugar bowl and sat down, waiting for the others to join him. "Okay guys, if you're ready, we'd like to go on with the other set of questions. Are you happy with everything so far?" He grinned as both men nodded. "Great, here goes. Once a month, the ten of us get together and indulge in some activities that might not be in every one's comfort zone."
"What kind of activities?" Scott asked politely, sipping at his coffee.
Scott watched as Jay lifted a hand and followed the curve of Marcus's jaw with a fingertip, smiling softly when the man leaned into his touch. "Partner-swapping, S&M, Dom/sub, that sort of thing." He ran a hand through his thick, black hair. "We mostly keep it between the residents of Laurel Heights, but sometimes we do include outside parties, to add a little spice to the mix. Is that something you would feel comfortable sharing with us?"
David put his coffee cup down on the table and smoothed a hand down Cal's thigh. Scott didn't like the way his dark brown gaze never left Will's face as he stroked t
he man beside him, his fingers inching closer and closer toward the growing bulge in Cal's pants. "It's nothing too far out there," he said softly. "Certainly, nothing we discuss outside these gates." He glanced at Will's arm, still around Scott. "I mean, the two of you are obviously a close couple, and this might not be for you. I don't know how open your relationship is. No one is out to wreck anyone's relationship here, guys. It's just a little fun between friends. We're not saying that you have to indulge in everything that goes on at our 'gatherings', but you would be expected to attend and participate in whatever you're comfortable with."
"Obviously," Marcus said conversationally, unashamedly tilting his head so that Jay could lick at his ear. "You could end up with either one of us, or all of us together, depends on your mood. But we're looking for a couple who will fit in with both personas of the community, the public and the private. How about it guys? Do you think you could live here?"
Scott gazed at Will, taking in the flush on his high cheekbones at the four men's open display. Raising his eyebrows at him as if he were asking for Will's decision, he turned back to the waiting men when Will nodded. "I think we could," he smiled, dropping a kiss onto Will's hair. "It sounds perfect."
The journey back to the office was spent in silence, both men lost in their own thoughts. When they finally pulled into Scott's parking space, Will sighed in frustration. "What did you think?" He half-turned in his seat and frowned. "They all seemed really nice guys. Hardly the type to kill two all-American boys."
Scott turned put the car in park and turned off the engine, taking out the key. "I agree. But then apparently Ted Bundy was a nice guy, too. For now, everyone is a suspect."
Will clambered out and waited for Scott to do the same and then lock the car. They walked to the elevator in silence and when the ancient doors opened with a grinding of metal against metal, they stepped inside. Pressing the button for the fifth floor, Will leaned back against the faux carpeted walls of the small metal box and his lips lifted at Scott's groan when Barry Manilow's voice began to bounce off the walls.
"I swear," Scott grumbled mutinously. "If maintenance doesn't change the music in this thing, I'm gonna bust some heads."
Will glanced over at the other man leaning nonchalantly against the handrail, glad that Scott's eyes were closed. It gave him an opportunity to study him from beneath lowered lashes and wonder what Scott was thinking about. He wished he could say he hadn't been taken aback when the four men began their casual display. Obviously, he wasn't a blushing virgin, but his experience was made up of the grand total of two one-night stands and three relationships. He knew he was probably old-fashioned in his thinking, but sex for the sake of sex had never interested him. Scott's features had remained carefully schooled throughout and Will wondered if anything fazed the man.
Scott's eyes fluttered open and Will pretended to study a scratch on the elevator wall with great interest. Scott didn't say any more after the music remark, but Will felt his gaze on him. What the fuck is going on? His head swam, a thousand desperate thoughts bouncing off his skull like a crazed pinball. Thoughts he never imagined would have even entered his head.
Scott 'my middle name is dickhead' Turner was the most irritating man he had ever met and nothing in the eight months since Will had been working with him, had changed his mind about that. He'd always thought that if ever there was a reason for selective breeding, it was Turner. Now everything had changed. Why did his lips tingle every time he thought of them pressed against the other man's? Why did it feel as though Scott's hand was imprinted on his thigh? Why did the thought of living in the same house as Scott Turner now fill him with an altogether different kind of dread? Don't think about it William, his inner voice whispered comfortingly, don't think about it and it will all go away. Taking a deep breath as the elevator ground to a stop, Will only hoped that his inner voice was right.
Grace and Julie were obviously waiting anxiously for their return because Will noticed how they jumped to their feet before they'd barely stepped foot into the department. "How did it go?" they said in unison.
"I think it went okay," Scott said, sitting down in his chair and dropping his cell and keys onto his desk. "They seemed really nice and we answered all their questions. When they started making out in front of us, Will nearly passed out," he teased, "but apart from that it went well."
"Will?" Julie asked. "What do you think?"
"What?" he said quietly. Julie raised her eyebrow and he nodded, her words finally filtering through the sludge that used to be his brain. "Yeah, it was good. I think we pulled it off." He looked back down at his pile of phone messages and pretended to concentrate.
When a rolled-up ball of paper hit him on the head about half an hour later, he looked up at Scott, his irritation clear in his voice, "What?"
"Are you even listening to me?" Scott said, screwing up another piece of paper. "That was Cal on the phone. For fuck's sake, Harrison." Will watched in confusion as Scott picked up the pen holder on his desk and held it up in the air. "And the Oscar goes to."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Will repeated.
"We can move in at the end of the week."
Chapter four
"Are you going to tell him?"
"Tell who, what?" Scott replied, glancing at Grace where she was sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed. He was trying to pack his case. The house at Laurel Heights was fully furnished, so he only needed his laptop, clothing and toiletry essentials. Grabbing some more underwear from his top drawer, he threw it on top of the pile he'd already accumulated.
"Will."
Scott padded into the en suite and grabbed his toiletry bag from under the sink. He opened the medicine cabinet and began to fill the bag with everything he would need. "I can tell you're in one of your cryptic moods," he called from the bathroom. "I'm gonna need a little more, babe."
"Are you going to tell Will that you want in his pants?" It wasn't a question; it was a statement.
Scott's hand froze on its way to the toiletry bag and his gaze flew up to his reflection in the mirror. Swallowing hard, he dropped the shower gel into the bag and forced what he hoped was a confused frown on his forehead. "Are you high, Cassidy?" He walked back into the bedroom and tossed the bag into his case.
Grace tilted her head and raised her eyebrows at him, not speaking, just waiting. Waiting until Scott's shoulders slumped, and he sank to the bed beside her.
"How long have you known?" Scott asked quietly, avoiding her gaze.
"A while," Grace replied, putting a hand on his forearm. "Don't panic, honey," she said. Scott knew the horror he'd felt at her remark was clear on his face, because she added reassuringly, "No one else knows."
"Then how?"
Grace shrugged, her smile sympathetic. "Because I know you."
Scott sighed and stood, closing his case and zipping it up. "It's not a big deal," he said, his tone casual. "So, I've got a crush on the cute straight guy. It's not the first time it's happened and I'm sure it won't be the last."
"That's a very healthy attitude, Scott." Grace leaned back on her elbows and stretched out her legs, crossing her ankles. "Shame you're lying through your teeth." Scott glared at her. "It's hard enough for you to disguise how you feel when you only had to work in the same room as him. How the fuck are you going to cope with living in the same house?"
"Gracie, you're making a bigger deal out of this than it is. I've got a job to do, trust me, Will Harrison is the last of my worries. I can handle it," he said, hauling his case off the bed. Picking up his laptop bag, he hooked it over his shoulder. "You gonna wave me off or what?"
"Sure." Sighing heavily, she stood and followed him out of the house. "Make sure you keep me, and Julie updated, so we can follow up on anything you find. Oh, and Scott," she said, as he slid behind the wheel and started the engine. "Be nice."
Scott slipped his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and smiled, dazzling her with a row of sparkling white teeth. "I'm always
nice," he replied, putting the car into drive and gunning the engine. At the end of the drive, he turned left and headed toward Laurel Heights.
"Jesus Christ, Stretch," Scott huffed, picking up a box from the back of Will's SUV and carrying it toward number four. "What the fuck have you got in here?"
"My weights," Will replied, looking at Scott as if he had just dribbled on himself. "You know, they're big round things. You get them at the gym."
Scott rolled his eyes. "I know what they are, moron. I'm just wondering why you felt the need to bring them with you." He turned, hefting the box higher into his arms and heading into the house.
Following him with the bars that the weights attached to, Will motioned for him to put them down in the kitchen. "Because I like to stay in shape," he drawled sarcastically. "Unlike some; I'm not clubbing it every night. I don't want to get flabby." Before Scott had a chance to reply, Will had left to get the next box.
Scott laid his hands on his lean belly and shrugged, huffing out a breath. "I am not fucking flabby," he muttered. Opening cupboard doors, he located a glass behind the third door he opened and took one out. He turned on the faucet and held the glass under the stream of cold water, gazing out onto the back yard while the glass filled. The lawn was green and lush and stopped at a wooden fence sixty feet from the house. Beautiful flower beds adorned either side of the winding path through the middle of the lawn down to the summer house. The view was a far cry from the patch of earth that was his own back yard. Turning off the faucet, Scott lifted the glass to his lips and moaned softly when the cold water slid down his dry throat. He was mid-swallow when a deep voice said from behind him.
"Welcome to the neighborhood."
Unsure how he managed to swallow the water he had in his mouth without choking, Scott turned on his heel and came face to face with a man he had never seen before. His cop's eye immediately gave the stranger the once over. He judged him to be in the region of five feet eleven, and his slender, but obviously muscled body was hidden behind an expensive and well cut, navy suit. The pale blue of his shirt served to make the man's deep blue gaze appear darker in his handsome, angular face.