“Arthur,” he said. “I really want us to continue this, but the work...”
“Oh, Jesse,” Arthur began, “I promise I’ll let you finish the formes, but I, too, want to keep kissing. In fact, I’m finding it incredibly hard to stop.”
“Others will—”
Arthur cut Jesse off with a hard, fast kiss. Jesse chuckled. He tried to keep talking, but Arthur kept on interrupting him with more and more kisses, every one of them more ridiculous than the last.
“As I was saying, other people will”—kiss—“be here soon. I have to finish these formes so that the paper”—kiss—“can be ready in time for circulation tomorrow morning. Perhaps we can”—kiss—“spend some more time togetherwhen—”
Arthur moved to kiss Jesse once more, but Jesse covered Arthur’s mouth with his hand, and then Arthur laughed into his palm.
“Silly man. Will you please let me talk?” Jesse scolded. Arthur nodded. Jesse kept his hand over Arthur’s mouth, which was honestly pretty smart of him. “After I’m finished with the forme, maybe you can come to my place? I live with someone—a friend—but he won’t bother the two of us. I promise.”
Arthur nodded. He would like thatverymuch. Charlotte and Emma only expected him back later that evening. Jesse took his hand away. Arthur placed one more playful kiss on Jesse’s lips.
Jesse shook his head and chided, “Silly, silly man.”
Arthur held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll let you work now.” He scooted his chair a few feet to the right, away from both Jesse and the workstation. “See?”
“Thank you,” Jesse said, the faintest hint of a sweet smile on his lips.
As Jesse resumed his work, Arthur let out a happy, lovesick sigh and leaned forward, resting his head atop his fist. It had really happened, hadn’t it? He and Jesse had kissed. Many times. In the middle of the print shop. When it was quasi-open! Oh, Charlotte wouldreallyscold him for this.
And Arthur could hardly wait to tell her.
Chapter Eight
Jesse
Hours later, Jesse finally finished composing the newspaper formes. He was suddenly very thankful that the only newspaper printed by Putnam was such a small one, each week’s paper only a few short pages, the contents filled with happy news stories and simple advertisements. Because now, he could spend more time with Arthur elsewhere.
Unfortunately, the minute Jesse completed his work, two other employees showed up at the shop. Only Thomas Grant and Ellis Williams, but still, Jesse knew that, from that moment forward, he and Arthur would have to be careful not to act too familiar with each other, which would be that much harder now that they had kissed.
Just as Jesse opened his mouth to tell his colleagues that the formes were ready and that he ought to be leaving, he remembered that Arthur wanted to take a printed sheet of paper back home with him.
“Would either of you mind if I printed a test sheet?” Jesse asked as Thomas and Ellis both worked to remove their coats.
At the same time, both men muttered “no” in response.
Arthur clapped his hands together, and a big smile stretched across his face as he exclaimed, “Wonderful!”
Jesse’s cheeks caught fire instantly.
“Dammit, Arthur,”Jesse wanted to say.“Stop being so charming.”
Instead, Jesse walked over to the Grasshopper, and Arthur followed. Pretending that he was merely providing some sort of refresher lesson, Jesse re-explained how the press worked while Arthur looked on, pursing his lips and nodding as though he was very intrigued, clearly having caught on to Jesse’s ruse.
Together, they printed the test sheet. Once it was ready, Jesse picked it up so that he could pretend to look it over. But then, even though he was only supposed to be pretending to check it, he noticed a small error in one of the lines, and his face fell.
Arthur came up behind him. “What is it?”
Sighing, Jesse said, “One of the lines reads ‘Swift and Company Wool Soap. Four in a qack. Someone chose aqinstead of ap.”
“Ah.” Arthur rocked back on his heels. “Mr. O’Connor... isn’t that one ofyourlines?”
Jesse’s muscles tensed as a pinprick of self-reproach twisted in his stomach. Itwasone of his lines. Cheeks burning, Jesse began to walk back to the table so that he could fix it, but Arthur’s voice stopped him.
“You’re right to be upset, Mr. O’Connor,” Arthur said. “With the way the paper reads right now, itisrather misleading. Why, had I picked up tomorrow’s issue with it like this, I’d have been confused as to why the soap was made from wool, rather than feathers.” Jesse tilted his head, and Arthur grinned. “Ehm, because ‘qack’ is sort of like ‘quack’?”
