Jesse studied the trays, contemplating which flavor he wanted.
“Can someone help me with this?” Patrick called out from the entryway.
When Jesse moved to look up from the trays of food, Arthur cupped a hand over his eyes, blocking Jesse from seeing.
“Just a moment, Patrick!” he called out.
“Arthur, what the hell?” Jesse spluttered. “I’m trying to eat.”
“There’s more to my surprise,” Arthur explained. “And I need you to keep your eyes closed for a few minutes while I help Patrick bring it inside. Can you do that for me?”
Jesse was about to relent when Giuseppe came up beside him chuckling.
“Oh, these look heavenly,” he said, no doubt taking an éclair from the tray himself and trying to tease Jesse with his little comment.
Jesse frowned. “What about Giuseppe? Doesn’t he have to close his eyes too?”
“Giuseppe already knows about this part of my surprise,” Arthur replied. “Although, perhaps Mr. Caputo ought to be helping his beau instead of stuffing his face with French pastries?”
“Yes, yes, I will,” Giuseppe said, his voice moving farther away.
“Took you long enough,” Patrick said.
“I brought you a cream-filled treat,” Giuseppe said. Patrick sputtered a loud, happy laugh, and Giuseppe groaned. “Jesus, that’s not what I meant!”
Jesse chuckled a bit. While his mouth was open, Arthur shoved a pastry in it. Jesse flinched, but then chuckled some more before starting to chew.
“Now you can enjoy an éclair while I prepare your surprise,” Arthur explained, removing his hand from Jesse’s eyes. Jesse reluctantly kept them closed. “Doesn’t that make it better?”
Jesse lifted a hand and rocked it back and forth, palm open, while he enjoyed the pastry.
“Wonderful,” Arthur said with a loud clap.
He strolled away. Jesse continued to listen to his retreating footsteps while he finished his treat. Afterward, there was some commotion—sounds that suggested either Arthur or Patrick was knocking into a few things—as Arthur supposedly readied the rest of his surprise.
Minutes later, Arthur kissed Jesse on the cheek.
“Alright, Mr. O’Connor, you may open your eyes now.”
Jesse fluttered his eyes open. It took him a moment to understand what he was looking at. Feet away, next to the worktable, sat what looked like a Gordon Jobber.
But . . . not.
“Uhm...” Jesse blinked a few times. “Arthur, is that—”
“It is! It’syourGordon Jobber! From the sketches you made!”
Jesse shook his head in bewilderment. “But I never finished them.”
“Oh, they were close enough,” Arthur said with a flippant flick of his wrist. He started toward it. “Let’s test it out!”
“Arthur, when I tell you that it wasn’t finished, what I mean is that itliterallywill not work,” Jesse remarked, following.
“Sure it will,” Arthur said, looking over his shoulder and smiling like the handsome, ridiculous fool that he was.
Jesse couldn’t help but laugh. Regardless of whether or not the press would work, it was an incredibly sweet gesture. Jesse began to inspect it.
“Did you commission it from a machine shop orsomething?”
