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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Thorne and Riley had arranged to come into the store on Sunday to try on their wedding tuxes, and Darius thought it would be a great time to make up for taking off Thursday afternoon. Marc didn’t really mind giving up part of his Sunday, but as he headed in to work, butterflies danced in his stomach. Last night, Darius had all but said they were exclusive. When he’d left that morning, he’d kissed Marc good-bye and nothing had seemed awkward, but this was work. Darius was different in the shop. Would he be an ass like usual? Actually that wasn’t really a question. His difficult personality was part of his charm. The real question was whether he’d act like the evening never happened.
Darius wasn’t in the front of the shop when Marc got there, but he could hear him bustling around in the back.
“Marc, are you finally here?”
Typical Darius. “I’m ten minutes early.”
“I’m impatient.”
“No shit.”
Darius emerged from the workroom, holding a garment bag. “Take this into the fitting room.”
His tone was snappy, but there was something about him, something less arrogant than usual. Was that a good sign? “Is that for Thorne and Riley?”
“No.”
Marc frowned. “I didn’t think anyone else was coming in.”
Darius shook the bag. “I want you to try this on for me.”
“Me? Even if the client is my size, you—”
“Try it on.” Darius gave him a hard look, not unlike the expression he’d used when ordering Marc around the night before.
Great, now Marc was horny as fuck. Marc took the bag and stepped into the fitting room. The bag didn’t have Darius’s logo like most of the others, but he’d seen this bag hanging on the rack with the finished clothes. It had been there for a few months. He’d assumed it was an extra suit of Darius’s that he kept at the store.
He unzipped the bag and pulled the suit out. It wasn’t something Marc would ever have bought for himself, but he fell in love with it instantly. It was classic black with simple lines. The fabric was winter weight but soft and supple and obviously very high quality. When he pulled the pants on, they fit perfectly.
Who was this suit for, and why had it been hanging there so long? Maybe it hadn’t been there. Darius could have removed whatever used to be in the bag.
He slid his arms into the jacket and admired himself in the mirror. The stark black made his hair and eyes stand out. As much as he loved bright colors, he looked damn good in black. He ought to wear it more often.
The jacket was snug but not too tight. It accentuated his shoulders wonderfully. Darius didn’t believe in generic sizing. Everything he made was intended to fit the owner precisely, so why did this…
Holy shit! Darius had made the suit for him. And it was perfect. He shouldn’t accept it, but how could he say no to something that felt—and looked—this good?
When he stepped out of the fitting room, Darius’s mouth dropped open. “You look amazing.”
“Is this really for me?”
“Of course it’s for you. It wouldn’t fit you like that otherwise.”
“You didn’t have to—”
Darius waved off his half-hearted protest. “You needed something to wear to Thorne and Riley’s wedding.”
“But you made this before you knew about their wedding, didn’t you?”
Darius pretended to study something on the papers he’d been rifling through.
“Darius?”
“Fine. I started it the first week you worked here. Your body is fucking incredible. How could I not want to construct something to accentuate your assets?”
“You didn’t even know if you’d keep me on that first week.”
“I did. I knew right away I wasn’t letting you go.”
Marc’s pulse sped up. Darius had felt that connection from the beginning just like he had? “How did you know to use such a simple fabric and style? It’s so different from what I usually wear.”
Darius circled him, tugging on the fabric here and there, mumbling about the fit. “Customers rarely know what’s best for them. That’s why I like the ones that let me make those decisions.”
“Control freak.”
Darius slapped his ass. “Yes, I am.”
Apparently things weren’t going back to normal. “Why did you wait so long to show me the suit?”
Darius brushed his hands down Marc’s back, and his skin tingled even through the layers of fabric. “I was embarrassed.”
“That you wanted to make something for me?”
Darius sighed. “I didn’t just want to. I needed to.”
That was a huge confession coming from him. “Thank you. I’ve never owned anything that fits this well.”
“And you won’t ever find anything comparable unless you allow me to make more for you.”
“Maybe I’ll have to do that. I rather like the idea of you measuring me.”
Darius sniffed. “I don’t need to measure you, obviously.”
“Down on your knees in front of me. Touching me. Pretending it’s all professional.”
