Stopping at the bedside, Cameron pulled down the quilts and sheet and shifted to urge Julian to lie down.
Julian stopped him and held his hand tightly, looking down at the bed as he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t mentally prepared to do what he wanted to do. That Cameron wasn’t prepared to hear it.
“Fuck it,” Julian finally breathed in annoyance. He reached for Cameron’s other hand and pulled until Cameron was facing him. “I believe I may be in love with you,” he blurted.
Cameron blinked at him several times—clearly surprised—too stunned to respond.
“I just… needed to say that,” Julian went on as he released one of Cameron’s hands and waved at his own head. “Outside of my head.”
“You think you might be in love with me?” Cameron repeated.
“And you’ve been thinking it… already? Before now?”
“I’ve been thinking it since I first saw you,” Julian admitted softly.
“But now I’m actually sober, and I’m fairly certain,” he added as he felt his face flushing slightly.
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“But… but when you first saw me, that was almost a year ago,”
Cameron whispered.
“I can be a little slow,” Julian joked as he blushed further.
Cameron reached up to lightly touch Julian’s reddening cheek, his fingers brushing through the finely trimmed beard. “That’s astounding,” he said shakily.
“It really is,” Julian agreed. “Considering I’ve never thought it before.”
“Never?”
“I had a thing for my first-year maths teacher,” Julian answered with a straight face.
Cameron slapped lightly at Julian’s belly. “Goofball.”
Julian grunted and shuffled slightly, pleased that Cameron was comfortable enough with him to tease.
“You make me very happy,” Cameron said, leaning in to cuddle close against him.
“I’m glad.” Julian rested his chin against Cameron’s temple.
It was another quiet minute before Cameron whispered against Julian’s shirt. “I know I love you. It’s crazy. And you…. I didn’t think you’d ever…”
The words zinged through Julian’s chest, and he held Cameron closer as he tried not to grin. He ducked his head and kissed Cameron’s neck possessively. Whatever happened tomorrow would be okay, because they had this tonight.
IT WAS just before seven on a Friday night. Spring was taking root in the city and the sun was setting, sending shimmers of light through the windows. Decorations glittered all over Tuesdays; it was decked out for a private party that was to start at any moment, and the place buzzed with preparations. Metal detectors guarded the doors and large security Warrior’s Cross 153
officers stood around the room. There were men in tuxedos and women in fur lining up to be checked against the exclusive guest list.
The restaurant closed like this for private parties several times a year because of its excellent reputation for discretion, respect, and elegance, its secure upstairs location, and particularly because of Blake Nichols’ extensive connections. There were a lot of big names in the restaurant tonight. Celebrities, politicians, high-powered businessmen, professional athletes, society debutantes. It was a mishmash of powerful people and their lackeys.
Nights like this always proved to be interesting. And profitable, if there was enough booze. And Blake always made
sure
there was enough booze.
In the lobby outside the restaurant entrance, Julian raised his hands and watched the burly security guard carefully as he was patted down.
When the man was done, he stood once more and nodded at Julian.
“Have a good evening, sir.”
“And you,” Julian responded softly as he stepped through the doors and gave a name to the hostess. It wasn’t
his
name, but it was a name nonetheless. And lucky him, it wasn’t Keri monitoring the guest list.
The woman gestured for him to enter after checking her list. He nodded to her politely, and soon he was into the party and gritting his teeth against the urge to groan. Julian hated crowds. They made him paranoid and edgy. Especially crowds like this, where trouble was likely to come from someone who knew how to make it. Guests milled about on the cleared front floor, where servers moved with silver trays of champagne and tiny hors d’oeuvres.
Julian made his way through the crowd gracefully, nodding politely to those who greeted him and sipping at his own glass of champagne. Blake had a client in the crowd, one who would be drawing the proverbial bull’s-eye on someone’s back as soon as Julian found him. Fridays were normally reserved for Cameron, but with a party like this, Cameron had been assigned to work anyway. Julian had thought he would be forced to sit at home and stare at the walls all night, but the unexpected need for his presence had been sudden. He’d 154
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had very little forewarning, not even enough to call Cameron and warn him that he’d be here.
But when Blake called, Julian had to move. It was the only reason he was here and not at home, catching up on his sleep.
“CAMERON,” Miri whispered when she returned to the service area to fill her tray. “Julian’s here.”
He glanced up from the champagne he was pouring and smiled.
“Really? I didn’t know he’d be here.”
“Why not?” she questioned incredulously.
“I don’t ask where he is every minute of the day,” Cameron said as he set aside the bottle.
“So, he knew you’d be working a party he was attending, and he didn’t tell you?” Miri asked dubiously.
Cameron frowned a little. “He would have mentioned it, so he must not have known until the last minute.”
Miri raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “You going to go out and see him?” she asked curiously.
Cameron shifted his weight, but stopped and thought about it for a long moment, the smile fading a little. “If he’s here, he’s probably working,” he said slowly. “I wouldn’t want to bother him.” The thought that Julian might be “working” at Tuesdays sent a bolt of uneasiness through him. He still wasn’t quite sure what Julian did, but he knew it wasn’t necessarily… good.
“Working?” Miri echoed.
“Yeah,” Cameron said, trying not to wince. “He’s an antiques dealer, remember? He travels a lot looking for things for people.
Usually rich people,” he improvised. “Probably lots of them here tonight. Clients and contacts and… stuff.”
Miri stared at him for a moment and then smiled slightly. “You’re both so weird,” she muttered as she moved away.
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Cameron watched her go before shaking his head. “You have no idea,” he murmured. He picked up the tray of filled champagne flutes and headed out to the floor.
JULIAN glanced toward the back of the restaurant briefly before his attention was drawn to a man beckoning him. He cut his way through the growing crowd easily and greeted the man and his companion.
“I’d like you to meet an associate of mine,” the man said to Julian pointedly. “Ronald, this is the man I was telling you about.”
“An honor to meet you, sir,” the stranger offered as he shook Julian’s hand. “Gary tells me you found him several rare books in the last year.”
“Nothing that couldn’t be found on eBay these days,” Julian assured the man cheekily.
The target laughed and nodded. “I’m in the market for Middle Eastern antiquities,” he told Julian. “I hear they’re going cheap now that the whole damn place is blowing up. That something you might be able to help me with?”
“I’m sure it is,” Julian assured him.
“Well, then I look forward to doing business with you,” the man said with a smile that Julian didn’t like at all.
“Likewise,” Julian murmured with a crooked smile of his own. It was always easier when the target was a bit of a jackass to begin with.
He looked away, trying not to sigh heavily, and he caught sight of Cameron as he emerged from the back. Julian’s stomach flipped uncomfortably, and he averted his eyes quickly, trying to pay attention to the conversation around him. Cameron’s movements repeatedly drew his attention, though, and so Julian kept track in an effort to avoid him. He didn’t trust himself or Cameron not to react in a manner that was too familiar when Cameron got close. Julian never knew who was watching at things like this.
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He was going to kill Blake for talking him into this. What the hell had he been thinking? He could easily have caught up to this guy elsewhere. He wasn’t exactly the most careful sort, standing in the middle of a crowded party chatting up a stranger about stolen antiquities.
Cameron moved around the room smoothly, offering the tray to various guests. Julian could see his professional façade and silent manner firmly in place, but he could also see the man unobtrusively scanning the crowd. Someone had obviously told him he was here.
Julian’s lips compressed, and he mentally cursed. He should have let Cameron know he’d be here somehow. The decision to attend had been last minute, but he still could have attempted to call the restaurant and explain. He should have at least tried.
He was going to buy Cameron a cell phone, right after he throttled Blake.
It took most of a round of the room before Cameron entered the area where Julian stood, speaking with a man he was pretty sure was the center fielder for the Chicago White Sox. The waiter stopped several times along the way as guests lifted tidbits from his tray. It was while glancing over a woman’s shoulder that Cameron finally caught sight of him. He paused just a few seconds longer than he normally would have before silently turning away from the first group of party-goers and approaching the cluster of people surrounding Julian.
He looked uncertain and a little nervous. Julian hated seeing that look on Cameron’s face, knowing he was the cause. He hated even more what he knew he was going to have to do.
He watched Cameron’s approach discreetly, and when he finally caught Cameron’s eye he shook his head minutely and pointedly looked away from him, turning his attention back to the man speaking to him.
The motion visibly took Cameron aback for a moment, but his innate skills smoothly moved him to a group to the side, neatly sidestepping where Julian stood. Julian glanced to the side guiltily and watched him walk away. He felt like a complete bastard, but he couldn’t have the wrong people knowing he knew Cameron at all, much less that he was involved with him.
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“Are you all right, son?” the deputy mayor asked him with a frown.
“Of course, sir,” Julian answered in a low, smooth voice as he returned his attention to the conversation at hand.
“So, tell me,” the man’s wife asked Julian with a smile. “How does one become so successful when dealing antiques? You seem to know everyone here!”
“Word of mouth, ma’am,” Julian answered with a smile as he took another flute of champagne from a passing waiter and gulped it down.
CAMERON got back to the service area and set down his tray before taking a deep, steadying breath. He rubbed his hands over his eyes as he headed back to the kitchen to switch jobs with the expediter. There was no way he wanted to put Julian—or himself—in that position again. He didn’t know what was going on, but he had to trust that Julian had his reasons. But why couldn’t he even nod hello, like so many other strangers in the room?
Before too long, Miri entered the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” she asked him in concern as soon as she caught sight of him.
Cameron sighed. “Nothing.”
“You look like someone kicked your puppy,” Miri observed. “Did you get to talk to Julian?”
“He’s busy,” Cameron answered with a quick shake of his head. “I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt.”
Miri raised one eyebrow and looked at him dubiously. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked again.
Cameron shrugged. “Just hard, you know? Reminds me that I’m just a waiter, and he’s someone important.”
Miri stopped what she was doing and stared at him. “He tells you that?” she asked in horror.
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Cameron flinched, realizing how that sounded. “No!” he insisted, turning to look at her. “No, he doesn’t. He’s never even hinted at something like that. It’s just what
I
think sometimes, is all.”
She looked over him, brow furrowing in worried sympathy. “Are you two… okay?” she asked gently.
Cameron worried at his bottom lip and looked over at her again.
Julian worked with Blake. This party had been in the works for weeks.
If Julian were meant to be here, Blake would have told Julian that some time ago. So why hadn’t Julian told Cameron?
“I guess so,” he answered finally. “I don’t know.”
Miri’s eyebrows climbed in surprise. “Why? What’s going on?”
she asked. “You seem so happy.”
Cameron frowned a little. “I just get nervous. I don’t want to mess it up. It just… scares me sometimes.”
“Scares you?” Miri prodded carefully as someone called for her.
Cameron’s shoulder edged up. Despite Julian’s admission that he loved him, Cameron feared something would happen to make Julian leave. Being summarily turned away out there on the floor rocked Cameron’s confidence. Not being sure of his place in the relationship both scared and frustrated him.
“Are you going to be okay?” Miri asked him worriedly.
Cameron nodded distractedly, and Miri reluctantly left the kitchen.
He had the feeling it was going to be a long night, and suddenly he was very glad he’d switched jobs to work back in the kitchen. He didn’t think he could wait a table where Julian was sitting, smoothly conversing with other people, and have the man ignore him.
Or worse, have Julian treat him like a complete stranger.
He tried to swallow on a little frisson of anger. It shouldn’t have to be this way.
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OUT on the floor, Julian broke away from the little group that had monopolized his time the past hour and began moving slowly through the crowd toward the back. He’d thought he would at least be able to get through the night, maybe get some good intel about the asshole he was supposed to follow home, but all he could think about was the look in Cameron’s eyes when he’d turned away. He needed to talk to Cameron and explain or he was going to make a serious mental misstep out here. He avoided anyone he knew and anyone who looked like they knew him, aiming for the service entrance.