The Music of Love

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The Music of Love Page 2

by Sandine Tomas


  “No. Lawyers are great, make this town run and keep me fed. Can’t complain.”

  A soft spring breeze ruffled the curtains, and the shadows painted a pinkish swatch across the apartment’s white walls. The sunlight filtering into the room turned Zachary’s eyes golden. It was neat how they matched his complexion now.

  Zachary pulled his hair back with a quick swipe. Nervous habit, maybe. Or he could have felt warm. It was getting hotter. The gesture was futile, as Zachary’s long bangs just fell forward again and framed his angular cheekbones. He had a really nice face.

  “We should go get the rest of the boxes.”

  The words broke through Julian’s fog. Christ. He’d been staring. Ogling. This wasn’t… no way. The last fucking thing he needed was to fall for someone. Nononono.

  The accompanying headshake clearly gave Julian away because Zachary asked innocently, “You don’t want to get them now?”

  He was so screwed.

  GABE EYED him doubtfully. “Nobody is as tall as a tree. Are we talking basketball player?”

  “I don’t know. No. I guess not that tall—doesn’t matter. You’re missing the point.”

  After Zachary had finally left Sunday evening, Julian immediately begged Gabe to come over, needing to talk this through. Because the staring. Hadn’t stopped.

  “You sorted emails through a hangover. I feel for you, dude, I do. That’s no way to fight a headache. But it’s not the end of the world either.”

  Gabe rose to grab a beer from the fridge and rummaged in the upper kitchen cabinets for a snack. There wasn’t much. Eventually he settled on Cap’n Crunch cereal and plopped back down on the sofa, popping handfuls into his mouth straight from the box.

  “I stared.”

  “Excuse me?” Gabe sputtered, spraying cereal bits.

  “I stared. You know it always starts that way. And I smelled him.”

  Gabe twisted his face in disgust. “Too much sharing, dude.”

  “No. I didn’t mean it like that…. We didn’t. See, it’s happening. It always starts this way. I’m getting incoherent. Soon I’ll make no fucking sense at all, and then—you gotta save me, man.”

  “Save you?”

  “You can’t let me fall for him.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?” Gabe stopped eating cereal long enough to pull a band off his wrist and tie his long hair back. He regarded Julian with sympathetic humor, lips twitching.

  “I….” Julian had no idea. All he knew for certain was that this—crush, flirtation, all-consuming volcanic-level desire—had all the makings of an epic romance. Only it would not end well. And he really didn’t feel like moving. Again.

  “Julie, you’re tying yourself in knots for no reason. How do you even know he’s into you? Maybe he’s straight.”

  Julian merely stared at his friend.

  “Oh, right. The ‘gaydar’ thing.”

  “It works. I’m almost always right.”

  “Freak.”

  Julian moaned. Gabe meant well, but he wasn’t helping solve the problem.

  “Just screw around and lose his number. Doesn’t have to turn into anything with musical swells.”

  “Gabe. You’re forgetting something. This isn’t just a bar pickup. I work with the guy. If we…. Not that we are. No way. But if…. I’d have to see him. Every day.”

  It played like a film in his mind. The initial whisper of a kiss. A fantastic first date with a fine meal, steak or maybe perfectly cooked burgers shared in a wood-drenched pub. Delightful conversation and time passing in that way that was at once a blink and all of eternity. Months of dating bliss. And then. Boom. Sorry, Julian, it’s not you, it’s me. How would he stand it? He’d have to quit the firm and move away. Dammit, he was tired of starting over. What if Gabe didn’t come along next time? He’d followed Julian three times already. And Gabe and Nick, their band, The Last Cowboys, were doing well here playing the bars. Shit.

  Zachary was trouble. Smart and funny and gorgeous. Lethal. Julian absolutely couldn’t fall for him.

  Gabe was looking at him oddly. Like he was reading his mind. Could everyone read his mind?

  “Make yourself unwantable.”

  “Not sure if that’s possible.” Gabe raised one eyebrow at that. Julian scoffed. “No. I don’t mean I’m God’s gift to men or anything. It’s just that this morning, I looked like death, warmed over, dumped in hell, and regurgitated. And Zachary still showed, um, interest.”

  Letting out a hearty chuckle, Gabe said, “Your boy doesn’t sound too picky.” He slapped Julian’s knee. “Maybe if he thought you were unavailable, he’d back off.”

  Could work. Zachary had that Texas honorable thing going on, was part of the charm. He wouldn’t go after Julian if he thought Julian was taken. Julian was suddenly certain of that.

  But there was no one. Other than the occasional one-nighter, Julian had avoided any real relationship since moving here from Los Angeles. Because his LA entanglement had worked out so well.

  “How would I make him believe I’m seeing someone when there’s no one….” Julian locked eyes with Gabe. His gaze lingered a long while, growing from puzzling to begging.

  “No. No fucking way.”

  “Gabe. Please. We wouldn’t have to do anything. Maybe just hold hands or something.”

  “You’re out of your fucking mind. I do girls, remember? Different team.”

  “I like it here, Gabe. I want to stay. Write my songs. Have you sing my songs. I don’t want—it always goes to hell if I get romantically involved with someone. You know that. How many times have you picked up what was left of me? I’m not cut out for these things. I get too close and then….”

  Gabe took a long swig of his beer. “This is ridiculous. You’ve known this guy one day. So you stared at him. Big fucking deal.”

  “He stared back.”

  Gabe snorted. “Yeah. No kidding. What gay guy wouldn’t stare at you? Fuck. Half the straight guys do too. You’re freak-of-nature pretty, Jules. It don’t mean nothin’. You’re letting your imagination go wild. Calm down. Play it cool around him. Like you’re not interested. He’ll back off.”

  Julian tried to absorb Gabe’s words. It sounded simple, but it wasn’t. Not for Julian. Some people went their whole lives never connecting with anyone. That wasn’t Julian’s problem. He attached easily, fell hard and fast and deep. Same way every time, with the same disastrous results. They said they loved him back. Until they didn’t.

  “Okay. But if I need you, would you at least consider it?”

  “You really want me to play gay for you?”

  Julian nodded. Gabe was his best friend. Had been forever. And yeah, this was the craziest thing he’d ever asked of him. But it was self-preservation at its purest.

  “Fuck,” Gabe drawled. And Julian knew that at least he had a way out of ruin if his instinct about Zachary proved true.

  “GREAT WORK, guys! This is fantastic. We’re gonna bury those bastards.” Brian pressed his lips together, edges rising like a jackal’s. He rose from the desk chair of his spacious office to pace the length of it, his reflection moving like a stalking twin within the dark open expanse of the window. The offices were emptying out as the evening grew late. Julian and Zachary had spent the last several hours in Brian’s office, poring over the emails they’d flagged for the Peterson Pharmaceutical class action case, showcasing those that were especially damaging to the other side. The sun had long set, and the streetlamps created gilded swaths across the side of the office building. The light changed Zachary’s eyes to highlight the blue in his irises, the pupils disappearing in their depths in a captivating manner.

  Julian forced his attention back to his boss. He knew Brian would like the emails they’d uncovered. All of him ached from the late nights they’d spent reviewing the discovery paperwork. Hadn’t left him time for anything else. He rubbed his neck, working out the stiffness till he heard a disturbing pop. Man, he needed to sleep for a month.


  “Fucking great!” Brian cried. “We’re gonna crucify them.” Julian considered Brian—a lean, African-American man with cut-glass cheekbones, broad shoulders, and a disarming smile, Brian was about as tall as Zachary, not quite, but about. Zachary sat on the opposite chair from Julian. In an office typically dominated by a highly successful, good-looking man, Zachary stood out like a candle in the black of night.

  He just lit up the damn room.

  Their eyes met, and Zachary’s lips quirked up in a small smirk at Brian’s naked killer instincts. Look away. Look away. Look away. Zachary’s skin had this warm golden tone that bespoke his Hispanic heritage, and there were these faint moles on his face that….

  “…schedule the depositions starting next week.” Brian stopped his pacing and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Peterson Pharmaceutical’s got that big-gun firm on their side. Probably isn’t a big pharma they don’t represent. So, I don’t want to give them the home court advantage when we depose their employees. Our offices just aren’t going to impress—let’s book a suite at the Ritz. Neutral ground. And of course, record everything. Julian? You got that?”

  Crap, he’d been staring at Zachary. Again. Dammit. “Um—”

  “Yeah. We’ll take care of it.” Zachary rescued him.

  Julian mouthed a quick thanks, but Zachary’s attention was still on Brian.

  “Set the suite up as a command center for the duration. We’ll need transcripts after each interview. Zach, I’ll need you for brief prep. Jules, I want you on research. They’re lying. Those people got sick after taking that drug, and we’ve got the start of evidence that they knew more than they were letting on. Now let’s prove it. I’m shifting some projects around so Kat is at your disposal as well. Jack too, if you need him. Harrison really wants these guys. So let’s get to work.” Brian glanced at his watch. “Damn. I’m late for an appointment.” He looked at the two of them. “You don’t mind cleaning up on your own?”

  Julian could only agree amicably as Brian walked out with a quick thanks, and Julian was left with a desk full of sorted emails, some with bright red flags, and six-foot-four inches of pure attraction. He shook his head slightly. He was stronger than this. He’d turned down lots of pretty faces. This was just another one.

  Maybe Gabe was right. Maybe Zachary wasn’t even into him at all and this was just a silly one-way crush that would lead to nothing.

  “So, looks like we’ll be joined at the hip for a while.”

  You know, it wasn’t the words. Anybody could say that and it could come out whining, could sound matter-of-fact, maybe even bored. However, Zachary said it like he just found out Santa Claus was real.

  His eyes locked back on Julian, moving slowly over his body, doing that not-sure-where-to-land-first thing, and Julian felt the heat first in his face and then considerably lower. “Um. Yeah. Looks like.”

  “Hey. Don’t look so sad. Could be fun.”

  Julian’s mouth instinctively twisted. “Working 24-7. Sure. Loads.”

  Zachary’s voice deepened, smooth like honey pouring into tea. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  Releasing a soft sigh, Julian admitted, “I haven’t been able to get to anything except work and now, well, it’ll just be impossible. It’s frustrating because I was right in the middle of working something out.”

  “Working something out?” Zachary questioned.

  “Yeah, a song.”

  Zachary crossed one leg over the other and rested his elbow on his thigh, leaning his cheek against his hand. “Tell me about your song.”

  Julian’s facial muscles relaxed as his lips curved up involuntarily. “It was soft. Remember the rain about three weeks ago? Well. No. You probably don’t because who would remember a random rain shower from weeks ago. But. It fell real soft that Saturday, and I was walking. That’s when I saw it.”

  “What?”

  “What what?”

  “What did you see?” Zachary studied him intently, peering into Julian as if he was made of glass. Before Julian could reply, Zachary inexplicably already knew the answer. “You see music.”

  Julian blinked in surprise. “Yeah. It’s… how I work.” He ducked his head and colored slightly. “Know it sounds odd.”

  “So you’re a songwriter. And you’re a musician too?”

  “I play guitar. Sometimes I perform with my friends.”

  Zachary startled at that. “Yeah?”

  “I… um… I sing my songs.”

  Lighting up like a Christmas tree was the only expression Julian had for what was happening to Zachary’s face. “Wow. I—you think maybe I could come hear you one day?”

  “What?”

  Zachary almost fell into it but caught himself in time, lips twitching. “I’d love to come see you perform. Let me know next time, please?” Zachary’s gaze didn’t waver, twinkling like a lily pond on a moonlit night. “I want to hear what the rain showed you.”

  Internal alarms sounded like a cat’s paws against glass. This was exactly how it started: Julian’s stupid unrestricted sharing. Then the other person seemed like he cared. And that led to the caring back and the mind-blowing sex, and it was all unbearably good. Until whatever it was about Julian kicked in that made the other person want to stomp on his heart until it lay pulverized on the ground.

  He was so very royally screwed.

  THEY BEGAN scheduling the depositions, starting with the defendant’s midlevel officers. The senior officers were going last, culminating with the CEO, who Timothy Harrison, their managing partner, would handle personally.

  If Julian had thought the offices of Harrison, Kim, and Fowler were nice, well they were downright dumpy compared to the suite of rooms in the Ritz. He stood with his mouth gaping and would have felt embarrassed except Zachary was looking the exact same.

  Truthfully, he’d never seen a grander, more tastefully appointed space. Julian’s apartment kitchen could fit inside the fireplace. Over a cabinet, a large-screen TV faced the elegant sofa and two side chairs; a jewel-toned Persian rug separated the living room area from the entryway and dining room, and a small hallway led to a series of bedrooms. Julian immediately started envisioning where they’d stow their equipment and files and how they’d set up the large dining table for the depositions.

  “Holy cow!” Zachary let out a breath.

  Julian broke off thoughts of how to best make use of the space and laughed at Zachary’s excitement. “Yeah.”

  Like a huge kid, Zachary took off to investigate, bouncing on his heels, long fingers touching everything gingerly, like he was afraid to break something. It was remarkably charming.

  Curious himself, Julian checked out the bedrooms, mentally cataloging how they could be put to use without damaging the fine bedding. Would the cardboard boxes leave behind residue? Maybe he could bring in his portable dust vacuum from home. That Miele was worth every penny.

  He and Zachary passed each other in the hallway as they both continued exploring. Julian was digging through one of the file boxes back in the main room when Zachary reappeared from the bedrooms after a few minutes. “Did you see the tub in the bathroom off the master bedroom?”

  Julian had spotted the huge Jacuzzi tub. He studied Zachary’s endless legs and got an image of them wrapped around him in that tub as Julian leaned back into his hard, firm chest.

  There might have been speaking.

  “Julian?”

  “Um. Tub. Yeah.”

  “You trying to figure out if I’d fit in it?” Zachary asked, voice teasing.

  “What? No. Of course not. No. Why would I—”

  “I stick out of any regular-size bathtub too much, so I don’t get to take many baths. But that tub, man, might even work for me. Shame we’re here to work.”

  Julian nodded. A real shame. He forced his breathing to slow to normal. This was ridiculous. Tall, dark, and sex-on-legs wasn’t going to get the better of him. Zachary’s mind-reading abilities notwithstanding, Julian would hide this crush and feign disinte
rest and stay professional.

  “There’s only one bed,” Zachary pointed out.

  “Wh-what?”

  “The second bedroom has two beds, but that master only has the one. Although it’s huge.”

  Zachary’s voice sounded just this side of a flirt. Julian hardened his resolve and refused to play along, determined to wipe that teasing, knowing look off Zachary’s stupidly handsome face.

  “What were you expecting, bunk beds?” he tossed back snarkily.

  “Would you take top or bottom?”

  Fuck.

  He was skewered with a wide toothy smile and a wink that made him lean against the wall behind him on weakening knees.

  ONE MILLION human resource records later, Julian thought his eyeballs were going to fall out. He excused himself and disappeared into the guest bathroom to remove his contact lenses before that happened.

  Wire frames perched on his nose, he returned to find Zachary slumped on the sofa, feet propped on the coffee table. Soft shadows from his long, nearly black lashes grazed his face beneath shut eyelids, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheeks. Julian could see Zachary’s youth shining through so that he appeared more boy and less….

  Groggy blue eyes ringed with honey were suddenly upon him, and Julian couldn’t turn away if he wanted to, couldn’t imagine why he’d ever have such a desire.

  Zachary blinked once and gaped, stunned nearly speechless, swinging his feet down and looking up at Julian. “You wear glasses,” he said softly.

  The moles were harder to see in incandescent light. He’d counted three but thought maybe one was only a freckle. If he searched he could make out a soft darker spot near his lip. That’s the one he wanted to kiss. Well, he wanted to kiss all of them, but that one first. Zachary’s words slowly registered. “Yeah. To, uh, see.”

  He joined Zachary on the sofa, keeping some distance. Dangerous didn’t begin to describe this man.

  “You usually wear contacts?” Zachary asked.

  “Yes. But with so much paperwork, it was best to remove them.”

 

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