He’d just finished hanging the last jacket in the biggest private fitting room when a knock on the door had his heart pounding. He hurried over and opened the door to see Patsy with her expression beaming. Trying not to be too disappointed, Evan forced a smile and returned to the jackets on the rack. “What’s up?”
“When you’re right, you’re right. That couple was scared, but not for the reasons you thought. They were already married—just came from the courthouse, actually—and needed the diamond to make it official. It’s a bit backward, but so is life, you know? Anyway, it seems the little missus is expecting. She dropped that bomb, he dropped to one knee, they dropped some vows, and next thing you know, they’re scanning the jewelry counter before heading to her parents to drop the news.”
“That’s a whole lot of dropping.” Maybe he should hang his top choices flat so they’re the first ones Clint sees.
“You’re telling me. I dropped a whole lot of four-letter words in the process. They wanted this fabulous engagement set way out of their reach, and I almost sold it to them. The commission on that would have been enough for those cute Jimmy Choo’s I’ve had my eye on.” She sighed and stared off into the distance for several seconds before recovering. “But then I heard your voice nagging me to make it about them instead of me.” She rolled her eyes and shook her hands like she had something on them. “Your gay is rubbing off on me and making me nicer. I don’t like it.”
Oh, how he loved his Patsy. She was nothing if not honest. “Nice looks good on you.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” She sighed and sat at the round seat in the center of the room. “I’m good at what I do. Hell, I even like this job. It really sucks that I’ll have to find a new one.”
“I hear McDonald’s is hiring,” Evan mentioned without pulling his attention from the line of black jackets. Maybe he should add a few different dress shirts to really pull it all together.
“I’ll take that into consideration should I ever need a job at the golden arches.”
“Am I interrupting?” A strong male voice had Evan frozen in place. The air sucked from his lungs and left him completely speechless. He whipped around and tried to appear cool and collected as he rested his gaze on the one and only Clint Duke.
“Wow,” Patsy purred as she stood. “You know, you’re even cuter up close.”
Clint grinned, and it did diabolical things to Evan’s senses. “Patsy, if you wouldn’t mind, Mr. Duke has an appointment, and we don’t want to keep him waiting.”
“No, we do not.” Clint casually walked into the largest of Kelley’s private rooms, hands in his pockets, and turned as he gave the room a quick assessment. After he finished, he melted his large frame down on the padded center bench and leaned back on his hands. “Call me Clint.”
“I’d rather call you for drinks,” Patsy said with a hungry snarl on her face. She overly swayed as she approached and pulled out her card, being sure to lean in close so that her store-bought boobs practically popped out of her blouse. “Better yet, just call me.”
Clint took the card and gave her a sideways glance that had Evan’s muscles tight with jealousy. Why the hell did Clint have a twinkle in his eye? But, as Evan studied it closer, he saw a harmless warmth in his gaze—nothing like the dark hunger that glimmered when he looked at Evan. “Patsy Cline?”
“No relation. What can I say? My parents have a sense of humor.” She raised her brows. “Are you sure you don’t need any help? Two sets of hands are better than one.”
“I’ll be sure to keep your card.” Clint tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Fine. You boys try not to have too much fun.” She faced Evan and mouthed not even bi.
“Bye.” Evan nodded at the door at the same time. They exchanged looks.
She smiled over her shoulder as she waltzed out. Evan rushed for the door to close it before she found a reason to barge back in. For good measure, he turned the lock to secure the door in place.
Evan drew in a breath before stealing a glance at Clint. “Sorry about that.”
“She seems interesting.”
“She’s definitely that.” He blew out a breath and ignored the way his pulse had him dizzy and his mouth dry. “Shall we get started?”
“Before we do, let me ask you a question.”
“Sure.”
“How long has she been in love with you?”
5
The question jarred every cell in Evan’s body. Patsy loved him like a brother, not a lover. They’d never been anything more than best friends. She knew almost everything about him—including the fact he was gay. He didn’t have the strength for anything more than a squeak. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sure I’m not the first guy to point it out.”
No, he was only the latest guy to point it out. If Clint had a problem with Evan’s best friend, they were over before they had a chance. Patsy stuck by him when all the men in his life left. “She’s like my sister.”
“Does she know she’s in the friend zone?”
“Why do you care?”
He smiled knowingly. That look, coupled with a spike of his eyebrow, said it all. Evan couldn’t hide his attraction to the man and Clint knew it. They’d been going back and forth with this verbal foreplay all day. Although he’d love to have Clint pull him into his arms and kiss him like he’d never been kissed, they had work to do.
Damn it. Evan moved to the jackets and grabbed the first one off the rack. “How about we get to why you’re here?”
Clint didn’t move, instead studying him with those intense eyes. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“For a tuxedo fitting.”
“Evan.” He sighed as he pulled himself off the large bench, slipping out of his jacket as he closed in. He didn’t stop until he invaded Evan’s personal space. “I already have a tuxedo. Several of them, actually.”
“Then why ask me to fit you with one?” He swallowed hard.
“Why do you think?”
Being the smaller of the two men, he craned his neck to look into Clint’s eyes. Evan lifted the jacket to stop himself from reaching for the man. Clint placed his back to him and brought his arms out. Evan slid the jacket up over Clint’s brooding shoulders and bit back a groan.
“This is nice.” Clint shrugged around to get the jacket to fall right. He stood in front of one of the many mirrors that lined the walls of the room.
Evan, now in personal shopper mode, focused on his job and shook his head. “It doesn’t hang right. Let’s try the Versace.” He took the jacket and handed him the next one.
“Will you help?”
“Of course.” Evan tossed the Armani aside. What the hell was he thinking? Personal shoppers never told their customers to try something. They should know what the customers wanted already. “You have nice—so nice—and large shoulders. I think we may want to try the Prada. It has room to move.”
Clint turned from the mirror, a sly curl on his sexy lips as his dark gaze twinkled. “You like my shoulders? I happen to like them as well. Do you have any tuxedo shirts to show them off? This one I’m wearing doesn’t do the trick. Besides, it isn’t right for these jackets.”
“I’ll be right back.” He should have brought in the shirts.
“And pants.”
Evan skidded to a halt. “Pants?”
Damn Clint and that sinful grin, and damn Evan for his body’s reaction to it.
“I’ll need pants to complete the ensemble, don’t you think?”
Evan thought he’d look better without pants. Or a shirt. Or anything more than a smile.
“I’ll be right back.” He ran out of the room and didn’t slow until he had a dozen shirts and half as many pants in his arms. Struggling to see above the mountain of material in front of him, Evan staggered back to the private room.
And promptly dropped the clothes to the floor.
Clint had removed his shirt and, sweet God have mercy, his trousers as well. He’d kicked
off his shoes but kept on his socks, which Evan found sexy as hell.
Evan was looking at a god with tight, chiseled abs and rock-hard pecs. His long, muscular legs poked out from those black silk boxers, and Evan had never wanted to be a pair of boxers more. Despite the incredible sight before him, it wasn’t Clint Duke’s physique that held Evan’s attention—at least not all of it.
The bulge between Clint’s legs drove Evan’s imagination wild and caused his breath to hitch. Clint’s cock strained against the thin silk material of his boxers, and he did nothing to attempt to conceal it.
He tossed the trousers off to the side and eyed Evan from the reflection in the mirror. “What do you think?”
Was that a trick question? Did he really want Evan to answer? He flicked his gaze to Clint’s groin and licked his lips. Realizing what he’d done, he quickly turned away and busied himself with gathering up all the clothes he’d dropped.
The sound of Clint’s deep chuckle filled the room and heated Evan’s blood. If he didn’t find a way to relax, he’d end up with a matching erection.
“Evan.” His low growl filled the room. He walked over and knelt next to Evan. Oh, shit. He could smell him. Dear Jesus, how he could smell him. Evan drew in a deep breath, his mouth watering over Clint’s heady scent. When Clint reached up and placed his hand on Evan’s shoulder, he started to tremble. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Nervous? Who’s nervous? I’m not nervous. Why would I be nervous?” He laughed hysterically, sounding about as sane as Charles Manson.
“That’s my question to you.”
“Let’s start with this shirt.” It didn’t matter which one he grabbed. Nothing would look as good on Clint as his own skin. Evan thrust the shirt against Clint’s bare chest while at the same time scooping up the rest of the clothes. He stood and dropped them on the large padded bench in the center of the room, careful to keep his back to Clint to hide his obvious arousal.
This shouldn’t be happening. Clint was Evan’s boss now. It was wrong on so many levels. So why then did the thought of Clint taking him into his powerful arms have Evan practically panting?
“Have I done something wrong?”
No, Evan wanted to tell him. You’ve done everything right. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to steady his palpitations. “No, sir. Just, um, give me a moment.”
Clint’s deep growl caught in Evan’s ears. “What did I tell you about calling me sir?”
“It’s a sign of respect.” His back to the other man, he stilled when the warmth of Clint’s chest melted into him. Evan closed his eyes and relaxed against him.
“That it is.” He placed his hands on Evan’s shoulders. Evan glanced to one of the mirrors on his right, catching the way the tuxedo shirt, open in the front, displayed Clint’s impressive abs. “Evan, look at me.”
Although he didn’t want to, Evan turned and rested his gaze on Clint’s incredibly handsome face. “Yes, sir?”
Clint reached up and cupped Evan’s neck as he licked his lips. “Now you’re just doing it to tease me.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” He licked his own lips in response.
“Whatever it is, it’s driving me crazy.”
“Sorry, I—” was all he got out before Clint slanted his lips and covered Evan’s.
At first Evan tensed. This couldn’t be happening. Clint Duke—the beautiful object of his obsession for years—had his lips on his.
He swept his tongue across Evan’s lips and licked them open. Every other thought melted from his mind. This man kissed exactly as he looked—like a god. A subtle throb of desire started to build in his balls, tightening in his dick and sending his nerves over the edge. Every cell in his body pulsed along with the beating of his heart.
Clint nipped at Evan’s lower lip before ending the kiss. “You’re gorgeous, Evan McKoy. Just gorgeous.” He licked at Evan’s lip. “And you taste pretty damn good, too.”
Evan smiled, and Clint rested his forehead against his as he stroked his thumb back and forth across Evan’s cheek, sending chills washing up and down his spine and driving him wild.
At once he came to his senses and jumped back, licking Clint’s taste from his lips. He couldn’t get involved with a customer. No, not a customer. The boss. He couldn’t get involved with the boss, despite how much he really really really wanted to.
Really.
“You’re the boss,” Evan pointed out.
Clint grinned. “I like the sound of that.”
“No, I mean you’re like the boss boss. I can’t be kissing on the boss boss. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Do you always babble like this when you’re nervous?”
“Yes. No. Um… Maybe?” God, he sounded like a moron. “Let’s just see if I can fit you.” Mortification slapped his cheeks when he realized what he’d said. “I mean… Ah, hell.”
“How about we make a deal? Agree to have a drink with me and we’ll forget this entire conversation.”
“In public?”
“Yes, Evan. In public.” Clint grabbed a pair of pants and shoved his legs through them one by one in rapid, jerky motions. As he fastened the trousers, he finished his thought. “I live three very different lives, as I’m sure you’re starting to figure out. At least I hope you are. First, you have my public life, the one everyone reads about in those damn tabloids like Insider Confidential. Like the one I saw you reading this morning.”
Evan’s ears heated as he grinned through his mortification. He refused to apologize for his guilty pleasure. He didn’t have many, so he relished in the ones he did have.
“Then you have my private life, the one I share with friends and family.”
“Friends like me?”
“I want more with you.” His gaze darkened as he made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded a lot like a carnal growl.
“More than private?”
“Personal.”
Interesting. What did this man have in his personal life he wouldn’t or couldn’t share with the inner circle of his private life? Evan wanted to know in the worst way. “Such as?”
“Not here. That’s a conversation best kept for later.”
“But—” He stopped when that look in Clint’s dark eyes pinned him from the reflection in the mirror. “Yes, sir.”
“What do you think of these?”
Evan had to suck his lower lip between his teeth to stifle a groan. The slacks cupped his ass perfectly. “They fit you very well.”
“I think we’ll go down a size on the shirt. I don’t like them too baggy. Grab that Prada jacket for me.”
Evan did and helped him with the shirt before slipping the jacket up his arms and over his massive shoulders.
Sweet Jesus, have mercy.
“That’s it,” Evan whispered, the excitement of finding the perfect fit prickling his skin. Couple that with the heated arousal that feathered his flesh and life didn’t get much better. “You look amazing.”
“You likes?”
“I definitely don’t hates.”
“Wow. That took, well, no time at all.” He sounded disappointed.
“See all the time I’ve just saved you?”
“That you did.” Clint glanced at his watch. “Looks like we have time for that drink.”
“Clint,” Evan said in warning. He didn’t trust himself stone-cold sober. Get a drink in him, and God only knew what he’d say.
“As a shoppee to his shopper only.” He brought his hands up, not doing a very good job at feigning innocence. “We need to talk about Friday.”
“What happens Friday? Aside from you needing a new tux.”
Clint groaned like a five-year-old being told it’s bedtime. “It’s this annual auction thing my sister signs me up for every year as some sort of punishment for me pulling her hair when we were kids.”
Evan made a mental note to look into the event. If it involved a red carpet, he’d have to score the soles of Clint’s shoes and possibly
add traction spray. Last year’s Prada shoes were gorgeous, but were slippery as hell. He refused to risk his new boss falling in front of the cameras. “That seems a bit extreme for pulling her hair.”
“She also caught me with Jack.”
“Jack?” That got his attention. He ignored the pinch of jealousy in his chest. “Jack who?”
“Jack Gordon.” The way Clint said his name, a cross between a sigh and a song, had Evan’s muscles tight. Why the hell was he jealous over a memory? It made no sense. They kissed, for Christ’s sake. They weren’t exclusive. Hell, they weren’t even a thing.
“What, uh, exactly did she find you and Jack doing?” He hated to ask, but had to know.
“Each other. In very compromising positions. Quite a few, actually.” He grinned. “We were just kids. She thought he was her boyfriend. Turns out he wasn’t hanging around the house for her. Now that’s one guy I never did have to pay off. I didn’t even know I was gay until I met him. The way he did this thing with his…” Clint trailed off when he caught the way Evan studied him—like the man had just cut out his heart. “Never mind.”
Evan hurried around the fitting room, gathering the discards and strays. Anything to avoid Clint’s expression until he had a grip on his.
“Evan?”
“I need to put these back on the racks.”
“Evan, look at me.” When he wouldn’t, Clint added, “Now.”
No way. He refused to respond when being barked at. The overwhelming pull had his gaze searching for Clint’s. When they found each other, he couldn’t look away.
“Why are you so upset?”
“I’m not upset,” Evan lied.
“Yeah, I can tell.”
He jerked upright. “What do you want me to say, Clint? We weren’t even five minutes into your fitting before you had your tongue down my throat. Now you’re bragging about some other guy.”
“I’m not bragging.”
“What would you call it?”
“Sharing?”
“Are you serious?” If he weren’t so cute. And open. And confused. Evan dropped the clothes on the bench before approaching. “You really are serious.”
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