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“But he—” Beth said.
“Hardly, she—” Walter said.
“No.” Elliot shut the door on them. Wentworth smiled approvingly.
A knock.
“No,” Elliot said again, and then scrambled to open the door at Cameron’s confused reply.
Cameron eyed Elliot, and Wentworth, and pushed up his glasses. “Glad you accepted a new contract, Elliot.”
“I’m glad you’ll be giving me vacation very soon into it. There is one thing I think I—we—should probably mention—”
Wentworth leaped up from the piano stool and slung an arm around Elliot’s neck. Elliot didn’t dare turn. He knew he’d be faced with a sweeping, mischievous grin, and it was all he could do not to laugh like a teenager. “I guess that says it all.”
Cameron stared at them, agape. He whispered, “Does Louisa know about this?”
“She suspected, and she hoped,” came Louisa’s answering voice. She stopped beside them, in a bright pink dress and brighter grin, taking in Wentworth’s arm around Elliot.
“Suspected and hoped?” Elliot repeated.
“Honestly, Elliot. He rarely stopped talking about you, asking questions. And looking at you. I should have figured it out sooner. As it was, I only put two and two together after you left for Cubworthy. He kept looking at his phone. His smile every time you wrote! Swoon.” She wagged a finger, eyes narrowing on him. “Now you’ve finally figured it out, I’m going to need all the details. Wentworth ‘knowing you at high school’ just became a hell of a lot more interesting.”
A perfume-laced kiss landed on Elliot’s cheek, and Wentworth made a sound that might have been a growl.
“Now we know what kind of man you like, Elliot,” Louisa said from Benny’s lap, arms looped around his neck. It was Friday evening. After work drinks. “Big and brawny.”
“No, just Wentworth.”
Smiling, Wentworth rubbed Elliot’s thigh. “It’s only ever been Elliot for me.”
Henry slung an arm around Cameron, leaning in for a sneaky kiss. “So I suppose Wentworth is your plus one for Finley and Ethan’s wedding?”
Elliot eyed them, the soft, sparkly way they looked at one another. “Yes. I’m surprised you remembered.”
“Bennet’s helping with the planning, and I suppose weddings have been on our mind.”
Cameron beamed and waved his hand. A white gold band sat snug around his finger. “We’re thinking next year for the big day. Give poor Bennet some time to recover.”
Collective congratulations followed, and Elliot shifted his chair. “I think we need another round to celebrate.”
Wentworth beat him to it. “I’ve got it.”
Elliot excused himself for the bathroom but something caught his attention on his way past the bar. The same gorgeous bartender was busy pulling pints for the crowd.
“I like the beers you serve here,” Wentworth said, cheerful.
“Thanks.”
“I like coming here too.”
“We love our regulars.”
Wentworth’s voice dropped. “But I will stop coming if you don’t stop eyeing my husband like you do.”
“Husband?”
“As good as. We clear?”
Elliot didn’t stop grinning the rest of the evening.
“I heard you, by the way.”
“Heard me?” Wentworth asked innocently, scouting the kitchen for dessert. He picked up a banana with a lopsided grin.
Elliot side eyed him from where he leaned against the counter. “I was heading toward the men’s room while you had your little chat with the bartender.”
“You’re not surprised, I hope?”
“Try amused.”
“That, I like.”
“Are you going to eat that banana or fondle it? Should I be jealous?”
Wentworth looked at the fruit, rather impressed. “Jealous of a banana. I see the extent of my powers over you.”
Elliot snorted.
Wentworth tossed the banana over his shoulder and swept him up in his arms. “I think I know what I want for dessert.”
They were laughing, bumping limbs, as they tumbled into Elliot’s room. A week they’d been making love, but this was the first time here, in Elliot’s home. When the door shut, Wentworth shivered and leaned back against it. “I’ve avoided this room. The last time I was in here was . . . well, you were awfully drunk.”
Elliot looked at it through Wentworth’s eyes. It hadn’t much changed. A new bedcover and pillows, but everything else pretty much as it had been. Like a monument to the past.
Swallowing, he took Wentworth’s hand and drew him into the middle of it. “The last time you were in here, I was bursting at the seams.”
A raised brow.
“I was drunk and we decided we shouldn’t say it then. But, God, I wanted to.”
Wentworth’s grip on his hand doubled, his voice broke. “Elliot?”
“The next day Mum told me she was sick and I didn’t—I couldn’t tell you. Instead I burned our bridges.”
“Elliot.” A plea.
“I loved you, Wentworth. It was all-encompassing.” Elliot looked deep into his big dark eyes. “It’s interminable. I love you.”
The room spun as Wentworth gripped his waist and twirled him with glee. The following kiss was no less dizzying. “Interminable love. Although, I never got it out of my head after you called it ‘interimmable’ love. My mind went straight to the gutter and I quite liked it there.”
