Jesse hid his face in folded arms for a moment, then lifted it with a frown and muttered, “I think something’s wrong with me.”
Monty attempted to reassure him by explaining that Cal was a very desirable man, and that his feelings were perfectly normal, but it only seemed to embarrass Jesse more. When he revealed that he and Cal had been intimate, or at least attempted to be with less than favorable results, Monty sobered in his advice.
“Happens to the best of us from time to time. You know, a little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt–”
“Montgomery,” Hilliard warned under his breath, not wanting to draw attention from the people sitting around them.
“I’m just saying, is all!” Monty threw his hands up in a show of innocence, crossing his arms as he pushed his chair back, balancing it on two legs. “Nerves can wreak havoc on even the most willing of peckers. You gotta relax.”
Hilliard rolled his eyes at the words of wisdom, if they could even be called such a thing. He tried to think of something more actionable to offer, but Monty went on before he had any ideas of his own.
“I know what you need. You need to work your own magic.”
“My magic?” Jesse asked, clearly skeptical.
“Your dance magic,” Monty enthused. “I saw it myself that night we first met. You were the brightest light in the place, so confident and sure of yourself. It was sexy as hell.”
Hilliard’s heart puddled for an entirely new reason. Monty offering compliments without the undercurrent of his magic to boost them was new and, frankly, just as alluring as any show of dance magic. He was genuinely trying to help Jesse with his situation, and Hilliard could’ve kissed him for it.
“The four of us are going out dancing on Friday,” Monty announced, “and you’re going to jitterbug your way right back into that bed for a night full of–”
Jesse agreed hastily, cutting Monty off before he could finish the end of that sentence. The invitation pulled a nervous laugh from him, too, but then Jesse picked up his fork and began eating his previously untouched meal. Monty looked satisfied as he also started to eat again, this time with intent.
Hilliard’s magic all but glowed as he took another bite of pudding, so pleased with Monty’s efforts at being a supportive friend in Jesse’s moment of need that he didn’t dare voice any protest against the surprising change of their Friday night plans. He could suffer through an evening out if it meant bringing Jesse and Cal closer together. And he supposed a night dancing with Montgomery Kincaid wasn’t all that bad, either.
Chapter 25
Monty
What Hilliard was supposed to have said was, “my home is yours, sugar,” or “don’t leave,” or even “you don’t have to move out if you don’t want to.” After weeks of enjoying an intimate sort of domesticity, Monty had expected an invitation, a plea, a declaration.
Instead, Hilliard had beamed at him and said how proud he was. And even though Monty had waited for what he was sure would come after, it didn’t come. Instead, Hilliard had chatted about how pleased Monty must be, but Monty couldn’t bring himself to agree.
How could he look forward to driving again when he wouldn’t have Henrietta on his lap or Hilliard sitting next to him, looking dapper in driving gloves? How could he look forward to the swimming pool when Hilliard wouldn’t be around to eye his swimming trunks or tease him for his vanity? How could he look forward to his big empty house with no Hilliard, no soft music on the radio, no click-clack of Henrietta’s nails on the floor? And how the hell could he look forward to sleeping in his own bed alone? The very idea of it made him want to cry.
The worst part was that Hilliard might be looking forward to all of that. Perhaps his friend wanted his own house back? Perhaps Monty had been in the way when he leaned against the counter and chatted while Hilliard cooked, or when he sunned himself in the backyard while Hilliard hung up the laundry. Maybe he was tired of sharing his bed. Then Henrietta could go back to sleeping on the dog bed and he could have the bed all to himself again. Maybe the whole relationship had happened in order to make Monty feel more comfortable staying at home all the time. That idea made Monty feel sick on top of feeling weepy.
He thought back to how he and Hilliard had started down this path together. The seduction conversation had been an excuse for good banter, mostly. A tentative reach into the uncertain feelings between them with an easy excuse to pull back if Monty had been wrong about everything. But Hilliard had seemed to enjoy it. Maybe that was the key?
Neither of them talked until they were halfway home. Hilliard broke the silence saying, “It was very kind of you to help Jesse out.”
They were still not the words Monty wanted to hear. So he shrugged and looked out the window. “That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”
“Where are you thinking we should go dancing?” Hilliard asked.
“I was thinking The Lavender Lounge.”
“Fancy.”
Monty felt himself grin despite his maudlin mood. “Don’t try to pretend you aren’t tickled at the prospect of dressing up for it.”
Hilliard arched an eyebrow. “As it happens, I have the perfect outfit in mind,” he said primly.
“Let me guess: it’s lavender.”
“It wouldn’t do to be too obvious, doll.”
“Lilac?”
