by Ella Frank
Robbie nodded as he digested that piece of information. “That’s why you picked that name—Priestley?”
“It is. He was the first man I ever truly respected,” Priest said, and then looked past Robbie’s shoulder to Julien. “Until someone tried to steal my car.”
Robbie sat there stunned, still unable to fathom the horrors Priest had endured, because he knew there was more than that final incident.
“Is there anything else you want to know?” Priest asked.
Only about a million things, Robbie thought. But those had been the main ones and, for right now, about as much as he could handle. He shook his head, and Priest squeezed his fingers around Robbie’s. “If you two don’t mind, then, I think I’d like to get out for a bit and go for a drive to clear my head. I’ll pick up some lunch on the way back.”
“Of course, mon amour. But please,” Julien said, “be safe.”
Priest got to his feet, and his eyes shifted between both men. “Always. I have too much to live for to be anything but.”
Robbie’s eyes welled, as Priest headed toward the bedroom door, and as he went to turn the handle, Robbie called out to him.
Priest stopped and looked over his shoulder, and Robbie took in the striking figure he made standing there. In dark jeans and a black Henley, Priest was simply beautiful, and after today, Robbie had no doubt that he was one hundred percent in with these two men. He loved them both, baggage and all, with every fiber of his being. And even though he knew it was going to take some time for them to find their footing again, he was glad Priest had trusted him with this.
“Everything you told me here, I’ll keep it locked away forever. You don’t ever have to worry. I just wanted you to know that.”
“Thank you, sweetheart, but I already knew.”
A flush of pleasure washed over Robbie at those simple words, and he realized how important it was to him that Priest understood that his life, his secret, was safe with Robbie.
“I’ll see you two in a little bit,” Priest said, and then he disappeared out the door.
Chapter Eleven
CONFESSION
When I fall in love, I’m ridiculously stupid about it.
Bet you didn’t see that coming.
JULIEN HEADED IN through the back door of his restaurant Monday morning and was greeted with the familiar sounds of pots and pans and exuberant chatter, as the staff moved about in the kitchen prepping for their run-through today. With every major critic, magazine, and food blogger invited to the opening this week, all of the final touches had to be made in the next few days.
As Julien stepped out into the lounge area, he spotted Lise in one of the booths and made his way toward her. She had her phone on the table, a notepad open beside her, and her laptop fired up as she sipped on what Julien knew would be an espresso.
When he came to a stop by the table, he slipped into the seat opposite her, and she glanced up and flashed a smile his way.
“Bonjour, Julien.”
“Bonjour,” he replied, returning her smile.
But apparently it didn’t quite reach his eyes, because Lise reached across the table to touch her fingers to his. “Are you okay, boss?”
“Oui. Oui, I am. I promise. I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
She nodded—assuming, of course, he meant the opening, which he did. But Priest and Robbie were also at the top of his list of distractions right now.
Things had slipped back into a more normal state for them all since Saturday, but he knew he wasn’t the only one who still felt things were a little off. There was no space needed anymore from anyone, but they’d all been treading very carefully around one another yesterday and last night.
He had a feeling it was going to take a little time for Priest to come back to himself and for Robbie to digest everything he’d learned Saturday, and the three of them were just going to have to be patient.
“A lot of good things, I hope,” Lise said, interrupting his thoughts. “The article in Culinary Institute went out, and whatever you did after you called Gail back and gave her that second interview, it must’ve worked, because this is some write-up.”
Lise spun her laptop around and showed him the article, and as he read through it and then looked at the photographs of JULIEN, he felt a sense of relief flood him. Bien. He hadn’t completely screwed up this opening after all.
“Wow,” Julien said. “She was definitely kinder than I expected.”
Lise shrugged and grinned at him. “You’re pretty damn charming when you want to be, Mr. Thornton.”
“Merci,” Julien said, and then sat back and tapped his fingers on the tabletop. He needed to talk to Lise about a couple of things before the opening, and now was as good a time as any he supposed. “On Thursday, I’ll be attending with two plus ones, who, as always, are to be kept out of the spotlight on the red carpet. I just wanted you to be aware. As for—”
“Wait a second,” Lise said, and arched an eyebrow. “Do not think for a second you can just bulldoze through that conversation without answering some of my questions. You might be able to keep tight-lipped with the press, but with me, monsieur, you should know better.”
“Okay, okay,” Julien said. “Priest and I will have a date with us on opening night. Someone who is very special to us.”
“The young man who had you waiting on him?”
Julien thought back to the beginning of the year and nodded. “Oui. One and the same.”
“Ahh,” Lise said, and then chuckled. “He must be something to have caught and held the attention of both of you.”
“He is.” Julien thought about Robbie’s beautiful smile, caring nature, and vivacious personality. “Quite wonderful.”
Lise sat back and tapped her nails on the table. “And Priest? How’s he feel about this vivacious new man of yours?”
“The exact same way. I’ve never seen him act like this except with—”
“You?”
“Oui,” Julien said, a smile curving his lips.
“And we all know how ridiculously in love he is with you.”
“We do.”
“Then I have to say,” Lise said, “I can’t wait to meet this young man of yours.”
“He’ll be thrilled to meet you, I’m sure. He’s also bringing his family. Mother and sisters.”
“So they…know about you three?”
“Not exactly,” Julien said. “That’s why I’m telling you. In case things go in an—”
“‘Oh fuck’ kind of direction?”
Julien started to laugh. “Something like that.”
“I’m on it. As long as you guys are careful when you arrive, no one will be any wiser. I doubt you’ll be making out on the bar.”
Julien shrugged, enjoying this moment of lightness considering the weekend he’d had. “With those two, you never know.”
Lise winked at him. “That’s a different kind of party altogether, Julien. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Mhmm. And does this wonderful new man of yours have a name?”
“He does. Robbie. Trust me, you will have no trouble spotting him. Just look for the man lighting up the place.”
Lise typed Robbie’s name on her guest list and muttered, “Smitten. You’re totally, utterly smitten.”
And as they continued going over the things they needed to do before Thursday, Julien couldn’t help but agree.
PRIEST SCOWLED AT his computer screen when it froze for the second time midsentence, and then hit the mouse button over and over, as if that would somehow help it unfreeze.
He could feel the stress from the past few days mounting the longer his day went on, and when technology decided to step in and add to an already shitty start to the week, he was close to picking up his computer and tossing it out the window. It was a shame the damn things didn’t open. He could suddenly see why Logan had fought so hard for the corner office with the balcony.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Priest gritted his teeth and thought that maybe an interruption would be a good thing, all things considered. “Come in,” he called out, and of course Logan was the one to push open the door, because karma was having a field day with Priest.
“You got a minute?” Logan said as he walked inside, and Priest had a feeling that even if he said no, Logan would’ve still shut the door and taken a seat. “So, how’s your day going?”
“I’m assuming since you’re sitting down in front of me and asking, you already know the answer to that.”
Logan crossed his legs and nodded, just as the screen in front of Priest caught up and the rest of the paragraph he’d been typing appeared—twice.
“Piece of shit,” Priest muttered, and began to delete.
Logan frowned, but didn’t comment on Priest’s outburst. “I heard court didn’t go so well today.”
Priest stopped what he was doing and looked at Logan. “I thought the Fields case would be a slam dunk, but apparently it’s going to be a little more drawn out than I’d originally thought.”
“That’s unlike you. You can usually anticipate what someone will say before it’s even been said. Something on your mind?”
Priest bristled at the question, hating the implication that he was distracted, but he was also aware that Logan was right. Priest did have something on his mind—several somethings, in fact. But it wasn’t like he could just talk about it with his boss—or business partner. Revealing that your father was a convicted murderer, and your boyfriend was pissed off at you because you didn’t tell him, might not go down so well, considering how protective Logan was of Robbie.
“Nothing’s on my mind. Things just went a different way than I expected,” Priest said, and the more he spoke, the more his irritation over what he could and couldn’t control in his life rose to the surface. So did Robbie’s face from this past weekend, and suddenly all of the frustration Priest had been keeping a lid on exploded. “I can’t be a rock star every fucking day, Logan, and I would think my track record would be enough to overlook this one setback.”
“Whoa,” Logan said, and held his hands up. “I didn’t come in here to bust your balls, but I might kick you in them if you don’t calm the fuck down.”
Priest rocked back in his chair and ran a hand over his face.
“What the hell is going on with you today?” Logan said. “I’ve never seen you so”—he waved his hand up and down—“wound up before.”
“I’m not wound up.”
“You aren’t now because you just blew your fucking top. But you were,” Logan said, and then he looked around the office as though searching for something. “Tell me you have some alcohol in here. I know you don’t have much, but—”
“There’s a bottle of scotch in the cabinet under the bookcase.”
Logan got to his feet and headed over to grab the alcohol, and as he came back to the desk, Priest pulled two paper cups out of his drawer.
“We really need to get you some furnishings in this place. Paper cups? That’s just sad,” Logan said. “Or better yet, have Robbie come in and decorate for you. I’m sure he wouldn’t add too much glitter if you told him not to.”
“I don’t think he’s really in the…glittery kind of mood right now,” Priest said, and then looked up and saw Logan wearing a smirk. “What?”
Logan shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s just…” Logan started to chuckle. “This mood of yours is all making much more sense now.”
Priest said nothing in response, but that didn’t stop Logan.
“Have a fight with Robbie, did we?”
“I’m not talking about this.”
“Right,” Logan said, as he poured himself a cup and took his seat again. “Because keeping it to yourself seems to be working so well.”
Priest downed his drink, and then held his cup out for some more. As Logan poured it, Priest thought for a second and figured there was no harm in opening up about this part of his life with a friend.
“Fine. Yes. I had a…falling out with Robert.”
“Ahh, okay. I figured your pricklier-than-usual mood was a result of an argument with one of your men,” Logan said as he sat back in his seat. “It’s the one thing that distracts the hell out of me too. Whenever I fuck up with Tate.”
“What makes you think I fucked up?”
Logan arched an eyebrow. “Just a guess. And as one who recently pissed off Robbie, I can honestly say I know how it feels to disappoint him.”
Priest let out a sigh. “It feels like shit.”
Logan slowly nodded. “So, what’d you do?” Priest eyed Logan. “You told me you’d look after him. You don’t think I’m going to leave this be until you make it right, do you?”
“I will look after him, and I have made it right.” Priest thought about all that had happened. “It’s just taking a little time to smooth back out. We had a miscommunication about something. Or, should I say, lack of communication on my part.”
“Imagine that,” Logan said, and Priest gave him a questioning look. “You, not being forthcoming about something.”
“You’re not helping, Mitchell.”
“Was I supposed to be? I thought my job was to listen.”
“If you’re going to just sit there and be a smartass, you can leave.”
“My apologies. This is just so rare. You wanting my help with something.”
“Which I’m starting to regret.”
“No, no. I’m just giving you shit. I’ve been exactly where you are with Tate, and it was horrible.” Logan smoothed a hand over his tie. “Time, space—I’m not good at giving that. I’m not very patient.”
“Neither am I when it comes to things like this. I’d much rather hash it out and move on.”
“I get it. I hate awkward silences.”
Priest raised his eyes to Logan, and it was his turn to say, “Imagine that.”
“Touché. But I’m serious. Tate left for a week when we first got together, and I thought I would go insane. Did you at least know where Robbie was?”
“Was?” Priest said. “He didn’t leave. He just feels a bit distant right now.”
“Hang on,” Logan said as he sat up and reached for the bottle of scotch. “You’re this mopey because he won’t talk to you but he’s still sleeping at your house? Wow, you’ve got it bad.”
Priest tried his hardest to glare Logan to death, but when it was clear the fucker wouldn’t die, he said, “Are you quite done?”
Logan shrugged. “Probably. But I’m not promising anything.”
Priest pressed his fingers to his forehead as if that would somehow grant him patience, and then he had an idea. Logan knew Robbie better than most—more than Priest would like, in actuality—and that was the only reason he did what he did next. He asked for Logan’s advice.
“What do you think would win him over again? Make him smile?”
“Robbie?” Logan took a sip of his drink, and then laughed.
“What?” Priest said, and Logan sat forward and put his paper cup on the desk.
“Robbie is a romantic. He wants that grand gesture.” When Priest glowered, Logan held his hands up. “Relax. I don’t know that from experience. But when he went off at me that day in my office, I saw a side of him I hadn’t seen before. It was vulnerable and, dare I say, sweet. He always used to joke about things with me and Tate. But I think deep down he did that because he saw what we had. He wants to be loved, Priest. More than anything else, he wants to feel ridiculously, stupidly loved by the…men in his life.”
Priest sat back in his chair and thought about that for a minute. Logan was right: Robbie was a romantic, and hadn’t Priest and Julien just been talking about that? That they had to find the right time to tell Robbie how they felt? And lucky for them, they knew all about falling ridiculously and stupidly in love.
After all, this was now the second time for the both of them.<
br />
Chapter Twelve
CONFESSION
We have a plan to make you smile again, Robert Bianchi, and nothing’s going to stop us now.
“ARE YOU SURE about this, mon amour?” Julien asked the following night. Priest was sitting silently behind the wheel of the SUV beside him. They’d just left the condo after getting changed for the evening, and Priest had hardly said two words. He was all up in his head about what they were going to do tonight, and Julien didn’t think he’d ever seen Priest look so…worried.
He reached across the console and put a hand on Priest’s thigh, and when his husband looked in his direction, Julien said, “We don’t have to do this.”
“I know,” Priest said, a look of consternation on his face. “But I think Robert might need this, don’t you?”
A smile automatically curved Julien’s lips and he thought, I think we might too. “Oui, I do.”
“Did he text us back?” Priest said, looking down at the phone in Julien’s lap, and if Priest hadn’t appeared so concerned, Julien would’ve teased him a little. Instead, he took the opportunity to enjoy this nervous side. It was so rare and so beautiful, and showed Julien just how deep Priest was in with their princesse.
“He did. He’s meeting us there at eight. He said that he and Felicity should be done by then. Elliot was just blow-drying her hair.”
“Good,” Priest said, and then looked back to the road. “That’s good.”
“Mhmm, it is.” Julien settled into his side of the car and studied Priest’s strong profile as he sat with his hands braced on the steering wheel. His broad shoulders were covered in a black turtleneck tonight, which emphasized the strength of the body underneath, and Julien loved everything about the man.
“Joel?” Priest glanced in his direction, and when those steely eyes found his, Julien said, “I love you.”