“AND THIS
is the barn, where the reception will be. If you check your portfolios, you’ll see some of the designs our planners have come up with,” Lois said, leading the small group through the huge empty space. “It’s 5,400 square feet, reclaimed wood interiors.”
“Barn”—not in any sense of the word in the real world.
The floor-to-ceiling glass panels filled one entire wall, a perfect framing of the lake. Daniel took pictures with his phone, then switched to video, moving away from the group to get a panoramic view of the space. He had some ideas—they would need to bring in light; it was lovely in the daytime, but the windows wouldn’t do much for an evening wedding. No stage, but the corner farthest from the main entrance held some possibilities.
“Daniel is my planner,” Ander was saying. “He’ll take care of everything. Now about the accommodations….”
Daniel tuned them out, focusing on the space. Stomped a bit to hear the echo, drifted down the side hall to check the bathrooms. Daniel was flushing the toilets in the ladies’ room when the door opened.
“Seriously, that’s a wedding planner thing?” Ander stood in the doorway, hands on his hips.
“Do you want your guests dealing with overflowing toilets?”
“I don’t actually know how to deal with that question,” Ander sighed.
“That’s right, because
I
am here to think about it.” Daniel joined him in the little sitting room outside the stalls, which was very pink, bordering on flamingo. “Do you think they’ll let me repaint this horror show?”
“No, because Lois will look sad and tell you how this was where she grew up and it was her grandmother’s favorite color and blah blah, it was just so charming to have a rustic playground as a child.” Ander dropped down on a slipper chair that rocked unsteadily for a moment.
“Does she think this is roughing it?”
“If she does, she’d better pray the zombie apocalypse doesn’t come, because she’s fucked.” Ander looked around and shuddered. “I should design bridesmaids’ dresses in this color. Maybe I can bankrupt Sven.”
“You always have fun goals.” Daniel looked at his watch. “I need to get out there, rejoin the tour of Mummy and Daddy’s quaint weekend cabin colony.”
“We’re having lunch in the amphitheater down by the water,” Ander said dryly. “That sounds not at all pretentious.”
Daniel gave his friend a top-to-bottom look over. “How much did those leather pants cost?”
Ander rolled his eyes. “I made them; therefore they were free.”
“And the matching jacket?” Having been with him when he bought it, Daniel waited patiently.
“Shut up.” Ander uncrossed his legs. “Why do you look so happy, by the way?” He gave Daniel a shrewd look. “You look… different.”
“You saw me a week ago.”
“You got a haircut. And you’re using product.”
“Thanks for noticing. Jesus. Took you long enough.” Daniel began to walk toward the door. Ander on the scent meant nothing else was going to get done, and Daniel didn’t want to share just yet. “You like it?”
“Those clothes….” A gleam began in Ander’s eye; Daniel could see the thought bubble coming online.
Daniel grabbed the handle and had almost made it, but Ander beat him to it, stepping between him and freedom.
“What happened?” Ander’s smile was positively devious.
“If I tell you, can I leave?”
“Yes, but if you lie, I’ll know.”
Daniel pretended like that wasn’t true. “Owen called and asked if I would go to lunch with him, and then he said that they wanted me to, uh… look a little more fashionable for the show, and we….”
Flirted, then jerked each other off in Victor’s fancy-ass kitchen.
“Had kind of a date after the stylist people left.”
Ander broke into a happy grin, eyes lighting up and emitting a glow like someone had flicked a switch. “Did you fuck him?”
“No.” Daniel’s face heated.
“Did he fuck you?”
“Ander….”
“Tell me and I’ll let you out. Don’t tell me and I’m going to go out there and ask Owen.”
Daniel put his hands to his forehead and closed his eyes. “Wait, flashback. Eleventh grade, me and Tony Lofton. I almost had to leave school.”
“If you had just told me, I wouldn’t have had to put an ad in the school newspaper.”
Daniel dropped his hands and gave Ander his best smile. “Just because I’m feeling generous on account of the blow job I got two hours ago—no fucking yet, but his mouth is perfect and his cock is gorgeous.”
Ander clasped his hands together as if he’d just won Miss Universe. “I’m so happy I could cry.”
“Can we leave now? The pink is making me start to feel like I’m in a vagina.”
Rafe was standing in the entrance to the main space, talking quietly into his phone. Ander’s annoyance uncloaked like a force field. Lois and Victor were chatting in the center of the room with Owen walking the perimeter, hands in the pockets of his perfectly fitted jeans.
“I’m going to see if I can persuade the groom to join the festivities,” Ander said, faux cheerful as he took his leave of Daniel with long, angry strides.
“Uh-huh, okay.” Daniel skirted away from Lois and Victor and zeroed in on Owen, who flashed him the most devastating smile as he came closer.
“Well hello,” he said, bowing. “How were the bathrooms?”
“Hideously ugly, but thank goodness there’s running water here in the midst of God’s country,” Daniel intoned. “Did you hear? Lunch at the amphitheater, where I assume we’ll observe the pioneer tradition of space heaters.”
“Maybe after that a little zip-lining? I read the brochure—they have that here. Like the first settlers.” Owen kept moving, rocking back on his heels, swaying side to side. It should have been distracting, but Daniel couldn’t seem to unsee them two hours ago, sucking each other off on that big beautiful bed.
“A little cold to be flung on a wire through the forest. Maybe, uh, we could go back to my cabin and discuss the schedule for the rest of the month.”
With my dick in your mouth.
Maybe Owen could read minds or maybe Daniel was just that damn lucky for the first time in his life, but Owen licked his lips with purpose and nodded. “I think that would be the responsible thing to do.”
The amphitheater—more a floating dock with seating under the trees—was indeed outfitted with heaters, a long table, and jacketed waiters who served them a salad of spinach, apples, goat cheese, and pine nuts, followed by bowls of butternut squash soup with pumpernickel rolls. Wine flowed as Lois regaled everyone with exhaustingly long stories about the property and its history.
Daniel assumed they were funny—Victor, Ander, and Rafe all laughed while Daniel stared at Owen. Somewhere through the second filling of his soup bowl, Daniel realized Owen hadn’t touched his food.
“Everything okay?” he whispered, leaning over to keep anyone else from hearing.
Owen jumped, instantly flashing that charming smile. “Oh yes, it’s fine. Not my taste.”
“Oh.” Daniel settled back in his seat, dipping his spoon into the velvety yellow soup. “Maybe you can ask them for something else.”
“It’s fine.”
“Owen? Everything all right with your lunch?” Victor’s voice boomed down the table, causing everyone to turn their attention toward Owen.
“Just fine.” He picked up his spoon as Lois seemed to notice his untouched meal. “I got distracted by Lois’s wonderful stories and forgot to eat.”
“They are delightful. So when did you grandparents decide to open it up to the public?” Victor asked, refocusing the conversation. Everyone went back to ignoring Daniel and Owen.
“It’s delicious,” Daniel offered helpfully, his voice pitched low. It was hard to miss the tight expression on Owen’s face or the way his hand trembled a little before he took a sip of soup from the spoon.
By the time the waiter returned to take their plates before dessert, Daniel had finished his second bowl of soup and half a roll, but Owen had managed only about five spoonfuls. A nervous twist began to stir in Daniel’s stomach, because at the end of the day, he might have blown Owen, but he didn’t know anything about him beyond the modeling thing, and oh fuck. Modeling and eating disorders. Panic threaded through Daniel’s pulse.
Fuck.
When the waiters came back with slices of chocolate torte and small cups of coffee, Daniel pushed his chair out. “God, I’m sorry. Owen and I have a conference call with the rental company in about twenty minutes. Would you mind terribly if we passed on dessert?”
“Oh, of course not,” Lois said. “I’ll send something up to your cabins so you don’t miss out. It’s a family recipe.”
“That’s so kind of you, thank you.” Owen got up, tossing his napkin onto the table. “We’ll see you all later.”
Daniel got an eyeful of Ander’s smirk, which was entertaining, and the stink-eye from Victor, which was slightly less so.
They hurried away, not speaking until they’d cleared the dense forest around the amphitheater, Daniel panting a little as he tried to keep up with Owen’s long-legged strides.
“I’m thinking since we don’t have a rental company, there’s no call,” Owen said as they walked on the main trail. He stopped, regarding Daniel with an inscrutable look.
“You looked uncomfortable and I thought you might want to get out of there.” Daniel kicked a bit of the gravel. “Was I wrong?”
Owen pressed his lips together, then shook his head.
OWEN DIDN’T
want to have this discussion, not so soon and certainly not in the middle of a business weekend. But Daniel looked hopeful and earnest, the wind ruffling his hair and collar as they stood in the middle of the forest.
“Come on, let’s go back to your cabin and we can, ah, talk on the way.” Daniel fell into step beside him as they walked toward the main building. It was only a few steps before Daniel brushed their hands together. “So you want to play like Truth or Dare or something?” he asked lightly.
“That might help, actually,” Owen agreed, tangling their fingers together.
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” Owen took a deep breath.
Daniel hummed. “When you invited me to lunch, were you trying to get into my pants or actually get me to agree to the makeover?”
“Yes,” Owen teased.
“I’ll make you do a dare if you don’t answer properly, Mr. Grainger, and fair warning, we are very close to a large body of water, so skinny-dipping could be a possibility.”
“Ah, well, in that case—it was both. I needed to tell you about the makeover and I wanted to spend time with you.”
“You asked Ander about me,” Daniel said as they reached the main driveway.
“I certainly did. He went on and on about how brilliant you are, how you went to Harvard. Very impressive stuff.” Owen stopped their walk, then turned to look Daniel in the eye. “Plus I was sincerely desperate to get into your pants.”
Daniel rolled his eyes, but the delighted smirk was unmistakable. “Your turn.”
“Ah, truth or dare, then?”
“Truth.”
“Have you and Ander ever slept together?” Owen had to ask, because the curiosity was killing him. They were so different, so opposite that it was almost like a comedy team or an experiment.
Cracking up, Daniel kept walking, dragging Owen behind him. “God no. Roommates only. Best friends. I tried once, but, uh, I’m not attracted to him at all.”
“So not even friends with benefits?”
“Fuck no. And moving on. More truth,” Daniel said, dodging rocks as he began to pick up steam. “Have you ever fucked Victor?”
Owen didn’t expect that one—not even in his faintest concerns. “Victor’s straight.”
“Oh, okay. I wasn’t sure.” Daniel stopped on the hill; the slope made him taller than Owen, and he looked down at him curiously. “You don’t get along, do you? I mean—you pretend you do, but you don’t.”
A beam of sunlight forced Owen to look away as he said, “No, we don’t get along. It’s, uh—a very long story, but suffice it to say, he doesn’t care for me and I don’t care for him.”
“Must suck sitting across from him every day.”
Owen laughed. “Yeah, well. It does. I hide in the kitchen a lot.”
Daniel said, “Hmmm,” and Owen knew the next question, rules clearly be damned.
He stepped up the slope until they were eye to eye and dropped a kiss on the corner of Daniel’s mouth. “When I was sixteen and modeling, supervision was… nonexistent. I lived in a flat with five other boys, on my own, far away from home. Sometimes you forgot to eat, sometimes you couldn’t afford it. Sometimes you think,
Maybe if I don’t eat a few meals, I’ll get more jobs
—logic doesn’t enter into it,” Owen added when he saw Daniel’s frown. “I took it a little too far and ended up in hospital,” he murmured. “My mother brought me home and I stopped modeling.”
“So you don’t still, uh—have it?” Daniel pressed his hands against Owen’s arms. “I mean, now. You’re okay?”
“Yes.”
Daniel’s gaze was so concentrated on him, so warmly connected that Owen smiled.
“But….”
Owen pressed a kiss on Daniel’s worried mouth, kissed away the anxious lines on his forehead. “But there’s some scarring, so I’m careful what I eat,” Owen said softly. “And the idea of food as pleasure is still something lost on me.”
The frown returned. “So you don’t enjoy it?”
“No.” It felt strange to discuss it with someone he hadn’t known for long, in the chilled air, the forest quiet around them. “But it’s okay. I enjoy plenty of other things in my mouth.” His eyebrows did a flirty little dance.
“Did you just make a come joke during a very serious discussion?” Daniel asked, more than a little affronted.
“Sorry?”
“Hmm—I’ll let it slide for now.”
They walked the rest of the way to the cabin, arms linked. The Bluebird was warm and toasty, the bed remade from earlier and the coffeemaker humming as they stepped inside.
“Do they have invisible elves on staff or something?” Daniel asked, stripping out of his jacket.
“I’ve barely seen any staff since we’ve been here, except for the waiters.” Owen hung his jacket on the coatrack near the door, then turned to find a pensive Daniel on the bed. “What?”