“What a handsome man you are,” he said, wrapping Jesse up in a backward embrace and resting his chin on Jesse’s shoulder. He turned to nuzzle the side of Jesse’s face, and Jesse felt a flash of heat rush to his cheeks. Arthur hummed. “Beautiful creature.”
Jesse inhaled a shuddering breath and forced himself to ignore the pulse of want suddenly coursing through his veins.
“Alright, you need to stop,” he scolded.
“Sorry,” Arthur said through a chuckle before turning to look at their reflections in the mirror, still holding Jesse tight. Worry lines rippled over his forehead. “You’re upset.”
“I’m nervous,” Jesse said. “I can only imagine how strange it seems to your parents that you’ve invited a lowly pressman to come to your weekly family meal.”
“I explained to both of them that you’ve become one of my closest friends. Someone with whom I’ve been spending a lot of my time. It isn’t as though they’ll be surprised.”
“Still, it’s possible that they’ll suspect something.”
“Do you really think that they’ll risk further tarnishing our family’s reputation by saying something about our relationship to anyone else evenifthey suspect something?”
“Well, they could still say something mean toyou.”
“Oh, they’ve said plenty of hurtful things to me in the past. What’s one more?”
“Arthur,” Jesse whined. “I’d love it if you’d at leasttryto see things from my perspective.”
“Sorry. Again.” Arthur’s hands slid down Jesse’s front. He took hold of both sides of the coat and began buttoning it. “All I’m saying is that they can’t hurt me more than they already have. And I won’t let them hurtyou. In fact, I’ll make sure to keep the focus on me the entire evening. Even if that means waxing poetic about every mistake I’ve ever made, from poor investments to past andcurrent social faux pas.” Once he finished buttoning the final of the four buttons, he patted Jesse’s chest. “There.”
“All four? Are you sure there aren’t special rules to be followed when you’re a man who is only a stroke of bad luck away from living in a tenement house, but have somehow found yourself having been invited to share a meal with one of Chicago’s wealthiest families?”
Arthur smiled warmly at their reflections. “Yes, I’m sure. Actually, by wearing the coat completely buttoned like this, it’ll look longer. It’s an illusion, see? It makes it seem more formal.”
“I suppose I’ll have to trust you.”
Patrick’s voice came in from the hallway. “Mr. Hughes? Your parents are here.”
“Thank you, Patrick!” Arthur called out.
Arthur removed his hands from around Jesse.
Turning, Jesse said, “Does he always call you Mr. Hughes?”
“Most of the time, yes. Actually, most men like me would call those in his position something more formal as well. But you know me, Jesse. I like calling him Patrick. And I’d be fine with him calling me Arthur, too, but I think it’s easier for him to be consistent. He would be mortified if he called me Arthur in front of my parents, for instance.”
Jesse raised a cautious eyebrow. “Ican still call you Arthur tonight, though, yes? Even though your parents know that I work for you?”
Arthur huffed a soft laugh. “Yes, Jesse.” He smiled wryly. “Unless you would prefer to call me Mr. Hughes so that I may call you Mr. O’Connor in return?” He placed his hands on Jesse’s hips. “But I think that’s on the verge of becoming obscene for the two of us.”
“Only because you say it in that overly flirtatious tone.”
Arthur simply threw him a teasing wink before removing his hands and starting for the door.
“Wait,” Jesse said, following. “Where’s your jacket?”
“Oh, I’m not wearing one,” Arthur said matter-of-factly. “I told you, I’m keeping the focus onmethis evening.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Arthur asked. He smoothed his hands over the front of his claret-colored waistcoat. “It’s a pretty one, isn’t it? It’ll match the wine I plan on enjoying.”
Jesse ran a hand over his face. “Dear God.”
“It won’t matterthatmuch. Trust me. It’s not like I’m wearing this out to a party.”
