“I couldn’t wait. How are you doing today?” Alex eased farther into the room, placing the flowers on an already laden cart, crowded with gladiolas in various pastel hues. His hastily chosen bouquet of yellow carnations appeared as out of place as he’d felt the night before, seated at the dining room table and listening to the others’ shared memories—memories he’d cheated himself out of.
His uncle admired the offering as though the clueless purchase was the finest arrangement in the room instead of what it was—an afterthought. “I’m doing as well as can be expected, I suppose. Thank you for the flowers, Alex, they’re lovely.”
Alfred reached for his water glass, and Alex hurried to assist, stopped by a harsh glare and an admonishing, “I’m hardly helpless. The closet bench is one thing. This is a sip of water.”
“I know, sir.” Alex retreated, suddenly feeling extremely awkward.
“This type of surgery isn’t what it used to be,” his uncle explained. “They use lasers and balloons now. They still make an incision, only it’s tiny.” He held up fingers spaced approximately two inches apart. “No more ‘stem to stern’. Why, they tell me the scar will hardly be visible. They even cut into my groin, not my chest.” He added, with a wicked grin, “I always knew that was the true way to a man’s heart. Do you think they listened to me?”
Reassured by his uncle’s good mood and more optimistic about the chances of a full recovery, despite the lack of information from the surgeon, Alex pulled a chair closer to the bed and collapsed into it, his sleepless night taking its toll. “Did they feed you breakfast?” he asked, stifling a yawn and recalling his own lonely repast.
Alfred snorted. “If you can call it that. Juice and broth are hardly the breakfast of champions.”
“Yeah? Well, I missed you this morning. I’m not used to eating alone anymore. I’m becoming a bit spoiled, I’m afraid.”
“Alone? Where was Paul? Speaking of Paul, why isn’t he with you?” Alfred perused the room as if he expected to find a stray brunet lurking unnoticed in a corner.
Okay, Alex hadn’t planned to broach the subject this soon, but his faux pas opened the door. He hoped for the best and stepped through. “I… I didn’t stay at the house last night, and incidentally, I’m borrowing your BMW.”
Alfred appeared momentarily confused, and then a wry grin spread across his face. “Ah… and who is the lucky woman… or man?”
“No one,” Alex blurted. “I moved to a hotel last night.”
All traces of humor disappeared from his uncle’s face. “Really? Whatever for? Is something wrong at the house?” Narrowed eyes accused him. “You and Paul didn’t have a disagreement, did you?”
“Well…,” Alex began, nervous about how to proceed, “not exactly.”
Alfred trained the same disapproving gaze on him he’d used years ago when Alex got into trouble. “What’s going on between you and Paul?”
“Nothing!” he responded, a little too defensively, perhaps. If Alfred’s arms hadn’t been strapped down and IV-filled, Alex knew they’d be folded across his chest. He sighed, admitting, “I haven’t exactly been fair to him.”
“Not fair? How?”
Too astute not to notice something wasn’t quite right, and lawyer enough not to rest until he’d uncovered the truth, Alfred raised a questioning brow and waited. Alex took the opportunity to come clean. Carefully selecting his words, he tried hard not to upset his uncle. “When I first arrived, I didn’t know who he was. He was hugging you, and, well, you seemed so familiar.”
The old man snorted. “Of course we seemed familiar. He’s the nephew of my partner! He practically grew up in our house.”
Alex took a deep breath, braced himself, and then asked, “Is he your lover?”
Alfred sputtered, face coloring. “My lover? Alexander Anderson Martin! Are you out of your mind? He’s like a son to me, as you are! How dare you think such a thing! He’s Byron’s nephew, for crying out loud!”
Alarmed, Alex placed his hand over the nurse call button. “Shh…. Uncle, calm down, calm down! I didn’t mean to make you mad. I thought….”
“You thought what? That I’d replace the love of my life with his own nephew mere moments after his passing?” Alfred fixed Alex with the stare designed to back down agents and lesser lawyers. “Listen to me. There will never be another. Byron was my life!”
Alex hung his head, realizing how utterly ridiculous he sounded. “I’m sorry. It’s just I found so many things that led me to believe—”
“What things?”
“For starters, I came home at midnight to find Paul leaving your room, wearing only his shorts.” In spite of the circumstances, Alex’s cock twitched at the memory.
“That hardly points to an affair.”
“The next morning I came to your room while you were in the shower. I found those same boxers in your bed.”
Alfred scowled in disbelief. “In my bed?”
“It wasn’t only that.” Alex cringed, reluctant to voice what now seemed ridiculously absurd.
“Oh, there’s more?” Those thin arms did cross Alfred’s chest then, or as much as the IV tubes and tape allowed.
No getting around it; he’d have to spill his guts about his blatant breach of privacy. Alex steeled his resolve, determined to clear the air and put everything out in the open as he should have from the start. “A few mornings later, I found an empty condom package on your bed.”
Alfred’s shocked gasp quickly changed to laughter, and then he winced, pulling a pillow against his body to brace his incision. After a moment, he calmed enough to say, “Oh, Alex. I was wondering why I found an unused condom in my trash can.”
Alex was certain his uncle had lost his mind. “Sir?”
“It’s Bernard, Alex. I’m afraid the old dear has gone a bit senile. In fact, his fears about his own senility prompted his semi-retirement.”
“He put those things there?” Somehow, Alex couldn’t image the steadfast butler doing something so inexplicable.
“He told me he’s been doing odd things lately and doesn’t know why. However, he’s been such a good friend and loyal employee that I can’t let him go. And for the record, I wasn’t laughing at him. Good Lord, Alex, you should have seen your face!”
Well, he had to admit he deserved a little ribbing. “And you and Paul?”
“Heavens, no! As I said, he’s like a son to me, as you are. I can’t count the number of times Byron and I tried to get the two of you to meet when you were younger. Somehow my plans never seemed to work out.”
Oh. That. “I’m afraid I have something else to confess.”
His uncle’s stern gaze and raised eyebrows once again brought back memories of childhood misdeeds and their consequences. “Go on.”
“I never wanted to meet him,” Alex mumbled.
“Why ever not? The two of you have a lot in common.”
His reasons for avoidance seemed silly now, though at the time they’d made perfect sense. “The truth is, I was jealous of him. I got to go with you on vacations, but he got to come here or stay with you in Bishop. I went away to boarding school while he spent his weekends at the beach or hiking in the mountains with the two of you.” Sadly, he recalled the postcards and letters, rambling ad nauseam about P.J. this and P.J. that. The love-starved child Alex saw it as betrayal, and the knife twisted in his heart with each new letter.
Alfred’s expression softened. “Oh, Alex. I didn’t know you felt so strongly. You never said anything. If you had, you know I would have….”
“Stood up to Grandmother? No, she wanted me to have a proper upbringing, which meant being raised by servants and teachers, and seeing my family only on holidays.” Alex reached out to brush his fingers along Alfred’s hand—once more resting on the bed—carefully avoiding meeting his uncle’s eyes. Expressing his feelings to another was hard enough without being scrutinized. “I know you cared about me. Back when I was a kid, I used to hope one day you’d let me come live wit
h you.”
“You never knew, did you?” Alfred asked in amazement, as though realizing, too late, that he’d withheld critical information capable of clearing a client from a life behind bars.
“Knew what?”
“Alex, when your mother died I tried to adopt you. Back then a gay couple adopting wouldn’t have been allowed.”
“You did?” A burden carried on Alex’s shoulders for twenty years suddenly lifted, his uncle confirming what he already knew deep down—he’d been wanted and loved. Byron had alluded to adoption, even if his uncle had never mentioned it before. To know Alfred hadn’t intentionally left him in the care of two cold, unfeeling people because he couldn’t be bothered with the responsibility of a child came as a tremendous relief.
Gazing off into space, lost in his own thoughts, Alfred finally answered, “Yes, I did. Until your father stepped up and demanded custody, and the best way to protect your interests was to award you to my parents. He didn’t stand a chance against them.”
Alex’s heart hardened at the mention of his father—someone who, like many others, only wanted the money, not him. “I’m sorry I thought the worst about you and Paul.”
Alfred offered a soft smile of reassurance, curling his fingers around Alex’s hand. “As an attorney, I have to admit there was strong evidence to back your theory, but as your uncle, I need to say you should have spoken to me if something bothered you.”
“It gets worse.” This was Alex’s opportunity to clear the air, and he needed to put the ugliness behind him, allowing the three of them to move forward.
“Worse?” Bushy gray brows knitted together over his uncle’s eyes.
“I thought he was after your money.”
Alfred sighed and shook his head in disbelief. “Alex, you may as well know, Byron and I always tried to treat you two boys as equals. Whatever we gave to one, we gave to the other—or rather, we tried to. Paul never accepted a red cent from us.”
“I know.”
“You know? How?”
Choosing not to disclose his late-night prying, Alex offered instead, “Well, it’s rather obvious. I’ve seen his car, how he dresses. Instead of hiring a contractor, he’s refurbishing his store himself.”
“Byron and I believed you and Paul to be the children we couldn’t have. In all eyes but the law’s, Byron was my husband, and Paul is his heir, as you are mine.”
“Uncle, I know how close the two of you were, and it breaks my heart that Byron died so young.” Releasing his uncle’s hand and still carefully avoiding those too observant eyes, Alex added, “I hope one day to find something like that for myself. Someone who wants me and not the money, like Byron did you.”
“Alex, look at me,” his uncle commanded. Alex lifted his head and gazed into familiar blue eyes, warmth and compassion putting him at ease. “You will find someone someday, I promise you. One day, you’ll turn around and there they’ll be, right under your very nose.”
“I certainly hope you’re right.” Regardless of Alfred’s words to the contrary, Alex still had his doubts.
“There’s something else you should know,” Alfred murmured.
“Oh?”
“The Anderson estate, the properties and money, will be yours. However, my estate, or rather, mine and Byron’s, will be divided between you and Paul. I’m sure he’ll fight tooth and nail not to take it. That’s the reason it wasn’t left to him outright. The disbursement is detailed in my own will, as Byron and I agreed.”
Far from being upset by this news Alex experienced a keen sense of relief, the old adage about shared burdens being lighter coming to mind. “And the house?”
“When we built the house we never intended the place to be solely occupied by the two of us. We’d hoped to raise a family, fill that big empty space with laughter. Sadly, it wasn’t to be. Laws weren’t what they are today. We couldn’t adopt you or Paul, and contented ourselves with what time we could spend with you. The house will belong to the two of you. Perhaps the next generation will succeed where Byron and I failed.”
A moment of quiet understanding passed between them. “Do you suppose Paul will agree to live there?” Alex finally asked.
“I hope the two of us can convince him. Alex?”
“Yes?”
“Will you move in with me permanently?”
After watching the video and hearing Byron’s words, he’d had time to think things through. “Well, funny you should mention that….” Alex smiled. “I’d already decided to sell the Houston condo and find one here.” At Alfred’s disappointed frown, he added, “I’ve suddenly come to the conclusion that I absolutely hate dining alone. Since I now know I’m not interrupting anything, I’d be delighted to stay.”
“Wonderful!” Alfred exclaimed. “Now I have to convince Paul.” Easing back into his nest of pillows, he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly, a thin smile playing about his lips.
Just when Alex thought he’d fallen asleep, one eye popped open. “Alex? How do you feel about Paul?”
That was a good question, and one Alex hadn’t yet figured out. “Now that we’ve proven he’s not some two-bit gold-digger, he’s not a bad sort,” he admitted with a shrug.
Alfred clutched his pillow tightly and sniggered. “I still can’t believe you thought that handsome young man my paramour. At my age, I should be flattered.”
“I owe you, and him, an apology.”
“You do not. As I said before, it did my old ego good. I do know how you can make it up to me.” His uncle winked.
“How?”
“By helping me convince him to stay.”
A BRIEF search of the house turned up no sign of Alex. “Figures,” Paul huffed over his morning coffee. The moment he started to think Alex a worthwhile human being, the man went out hunting ass. No, that wasn’t entirely fair. Alex had every right to go out and find a willing partner. At least he’s giving me what I want and leaving me alone. Paul wondered, if he’d truly gotten what he wanted, why he felt abandoned.
After breakfast he called the florist to ensure they’d delivered the gladiolas—Alfred’s favorite flower—and hurried to the hospital, arriving seconds after visiting hours began. He knocked and then opened the door, grinning when he spotted Alfred sitting up and appearing little worse for the wear. His smile dimmed at the sight of Alex reclining in the chair next to the bed, looking smugly satisfied.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Alex said, upping the wattage on his smile. He sat up, causing his shirt to gape open and revealing a vivid bite on his chest.
“Alex,” Paul greeted coolly, concealing his red face in Alfred’s neck with a hug. He’d actually slept with Alex! And left evidence for anyone to see! Ignoring his ill-advised one-night stand and the telltale love bites, Paul focused his full attention on Alfred. “How’re you today? What’s the doctor saying?” he blithered, hoping the dim lights hid his embarrassment.
Alfred grinned like a kid at Christmas. “The procedure went well, and if I’m careful and do what the doctor tells me, I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”
“Wonderful! The house seems empty without you.” And without Alex, Paul added silently. No need to pad the man’s already overinflated ego by telling him, though.
Alfred snorted. “The house would seem empty with a dozen of me in it. As much as I love the place and the memories it holds, sometimes it’s too damned big.”
“Well, I love staying there. It always felt like home to me,” Paul replied, heartened by Alfred’s improvement. After his uncle’s illness, he’d developed a fear of hospitals, associating them with bad news. Particularly Mercy General Hospital, where he’d spent a good deal of time over the past year—and where his father had died. Despite the doctor’s prognosis, he’d privately feared Alfred’s trip a one-way ticket. He murmured an inaudible prayer of thanks.
A quiet “ahem” reminded him of Alex’s presence. The man’s twinkling baby blues gave a moment’s warning before Alfred sprang the unexpected. “Paul, I k
now I’ve asked before, now I’m asking again. Please consider moving in, at least temporarily, until I’m back on my feet.”
Paul’s mouth dropped open, and he swept a panicked gaze back and forth between the two men, sensing collusion. Finding his voice, he squeaked, “How does Alex feel about me living under the same roof?”
“Alex?” Alfred raised a brow at his nephew, humor sparkling in his eyes.
“I think that would be an excellent idea,” Alex replied with a grin.
“You’re sure?” Paul went from surprised to wary at light speed. Alex had wanted him gone mere days ago; what happened since then to change his mind? Oh, yeah. Sex happened. Sadly, sex wouldn’t be happening again.
Alex’s answer sounded convincingly earnest. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’ve been talking, and I’ve decided to sell my place back in Houston. I’m moving here permanently.”
“Here? Why?” Never in his wildest dreams would Paul have believed Alex would give up a glamorous, carefree lifestyle to move to LA and care for an aging relative. And if Alex relocated, Paul would have to watch the beautiful bastard fuck his way through the local population. That idea didn’t appeal for more reasons than he cared to admit.
“Because Uncle Alfred asked me to,” Alex replied simply.
“All in the same house?” Paul suddenly visualized himself as a mouse caught between two cats. No matter which way he turned, he’d find no escape.
“Well, we’re still debating. I’d originally planned to find a condo downtown. However, it turns out Uncle Alfred wasn’t a hot-shot California attorney for nothing.” Alex cast a sly gaze at Paul. “He’s kind of persuasive and likes having us both at the house.”
So do I, Paul’s heart said, frustration creeping in at the thought of seeing Alex every day, knowing he couldn’t have more. They did say familiarity bred contempt. Maybe he’d lose interest after a few more weeks of daily exposure. His own reservations aside, the arrangement would make Alfred happy. It wasn’t like Paul’s store assistant couldn’t handle things through the week, and he could always drive back to Bishop on weekends.
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