“I’ll talk to Dad and Mum about it,” Ryan said, his voice rougher than he intended it to be. “But speaking for me, I’d love to have you investigate.”
“I can work on the other gardens while you do this work,” Graeme added.
“It’s settled then,” Art said, coming forward and standing between the two of them so that he could slap both their shoulders at once. “I’ll set up shop here and dig around in your gardens this summer. It’ll be a grand old time.”
Ryan couldn’t fight the shivers that shot through him, starting from the spot where Art’s hand rested on his shoulder. Those shivers only grew when Graeme glanced to him as if asking for some sort of help or guidance in how to deal withArt’s overt sensuality. One way or another, it was about to be an interesting summer.
FOUR
Just when Artthought he would end up dragging himself through the dullest summer of his life, without work or fun to distract him, Ryan Hawthorne had come along. It was perfect in so many ways. He couldn’t believe his luck, not only to have an interesting set of historical ruins to spend his summer uncovering, and possibly to write a book about that would get him out of trouble with his dean, but to have Ryan Hawthorne and Graeme Dallen to fill his days with as well.
He was the luckiest boy in all of London.
It took a few days for him to gather the supplies he would need to excavate the gatekeeper’s house and to hastily throw together a grant application for the university in the hope that he might actually get official approval, not to mention money, for all the summertime enjoyment he was about to have. The university would take months to review the application’s merits and to find the funds, if they saw a humble gamekeeper’s cottage at Hawthorne House as worthy of their investment, but Art was determined to get started immediately.
He arrived at Hawthorne House in his beat-up old truck, the back seat filled with everything from spades to brushes tocameras, bright and early on a Monday morning about a week after his first visit to the estate. The sense that something delightful was about to happen grew even more when he noticed Graeme’s truck and trailer were already parked in the public lot. He pulled up beside them and felt an extra thrill as Graeme stepped out of his truck just as he cut his engine.
It was all Art could do to scramble out of his vehicle fast enough to catch Graeme before he got away.
“Good morning,” he greeted the shy young man with an exuberant smile. Well, Graeme wasn’t super young, probably in his mid-twenties, and he was only shy on the surface, Art was certain. He’d seen the look of interest that had sparked in the man’s eyes when they’d shaken hands the week before.
“Good morning,” Graeme replied, a bit startled, his cheeks flushing sinfully. “Is today the day you start the excavation?”
It was an obvious question, but Art took it as a sign that Graeme wanted to engage in conversation but didn’t really know how.
“It absolutely is,” Art said, reaching into the back seat of his truck to pull out the dusty old rucksack that held his things. “Still toiling away in the gardens, I see,” he said, nodding to Graeme as he walked around to unlock the back of his trailer.
Graeme laughed bashfully. “This is a huge job. I’ll be here all summer, and probably part of the way into the fall. And that’s without considering maintenance.”
Art couldn’t have been happier. “Me, too,” he said, turning up the charm to blazing levels in an attempt to figure out where he stood with Graeme. Ryan was convinced Graeme was straight, but Art highly doubted it. He’d been around long enough to know when a man was interested in him. It was one advantage of the slutty life he’d lived in his twenties. “Excavations like the one I’m about to undertake could last for years.”
“They take that long?” Graeme asked, his face growing even pinker as he stepped into the back of his trailer to fetch some sort of gardening implement or another.
Art waited until he emerged with a wheelbarrow filled with everything from shovels to clippers before answering, “It all depends on what I find and the historical significance of it all. And on whether the Hawthornes want to keep me around after I’ve caused a heap of trouble.”
Graeme’s wheelbarrow thumped loudly on the tarmac as it dropped the few inches from the back of the trailer. Graeme himself seemed to swallow his tongue at Art’s cheeky statement. “Are you a troublemaker?” he asked, just a hint of wariness in his voice and expression.
It was delicious. Those words and that look told a definite story. And if there was one thing Art was good at, it was uncovering long-buried truths.
He shrugged and stepped closer to the back of the trailer as Graeme went back in to fetch shovels. Art gestured for Graeme to hand some off to him, and once they both had their arms full, they started away from the parking lot and around to the back of the house together.
“I do tend to enjoy a bit of trouble,” Art said, wickedness stirring in him. “Good trouble, mind you,” he added. “It keeps life spicy and enjoyable.”
Graeme laughed as he pushed his wheelbarrow. “I’m not so sure about that. I’m more of the slow and steady type who doesn’t want any trouble at all.”
“Sure you do,” Art said, swaying closer so he could nudge Graeme’s arm. “Every red-blooded man likes a little spicy, saucy trouble now and then.” He wiggled his eyebrows to make absolutely certain Graeme knew what he meant.
Graeme’s amused expression teetered into something hollow and worried. “I’ve had more than enough trouble to last a lifetime.”
They hadn’t even made it out to the garden yet and already Art was having the time of his life uncovering the past. Like with any fragile artifact, though, he needed to go slowly and chip away at things bit by bit so he didn’t break what he was trying to bring to light.
“That wouldn’t, by any chance, have anything to do with your divorce, would it?” he asked, gentling his tone a bit.
Graeme faced him with suddenly wide eyes. “How did you know about that?”
“Ryan told me,” Art said with a shrug. “How long ago was it?”
Graeme’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment as they entered the kitchen garden through one of the side gates before he said, “Last November. Well, it was all finalized in March.”
