Young At Heart (16 page)

“I would have said keep her,” Devon cried in earnest. “I would have said give this kid the chance in life you never had. I would have said give her all the love nobody ever gave you. I would have said let me look after you. Both of you. I would have said... marry me.”

Jesse stared at him, his mouth hanging open. Devon had asked Jesse to marry him once before and he been knocked back. And Devon had refused when Jesse asked him. Was it a case of third time lucky, as the old saying went?

“Okay,” Jesse said, and it was Devon's turn to look dumbfounded.

“Okay what?”

Jesse took a deep breath. “Okay, I'll marry you. But you have to be sure, Dev. You have to want both of us.”

“I do!” Devon swept Jesse up into a huge bear hug. Anya stared at them curiously.

“We need to talk about this seriously,” Jesse warned once Devon put him down. But he was smiling and so was Devon, his first real smile since forcing Jesse to leave. “It's not going to be easy, Dev.”

“Hey, we're getting married and we've got a baby,” Devon said, grinning like an idiot. “What could be easier?”

IN COMPARISON to telling his mother, Devon was inclined to agree with his own statement: marriage and taking on a child was definitely the easier option. Despite their strained relationship, he couldn't deny feeling that he owed it to Erica to let her know she was going to be a grandmother... of sorts.

Maybe, if he was honest, there was a small part of him that hoped the idea of her first—and only—grandchild would mellow Erica. If she was curious enough to want to see the baby, and Devon was certain she would be, his mother would have to accept Jesse as part of the deal. He was the father after all. If Erica spent a little time with Jesse and got to know him, she might actually come to like him. Or at least tolerate him and stop trying to make their lives miserable simply because Jesse wasn't some forty-something millionaire.

Devon realized his quiet fantasy of playing happy families, with his mother acting as doting grandma, was a long shot, but he had to try. He had to give Erica the chance to prove she still possessed some shred of decency, however deep she had buried it over the years.

Pacing the apartment as he waited for Erica to arrive, Devon tried to convince himself he was doing the right thing. Perhaps his way of going about it wouldn't be to his mother's satisfaction, but he was finally giving her the chance to be a grandmother. Something she claimed to have wanted for the past twenty years.

For his first meeting with Erica since his resignation, Devon banned Jesse from the apartment. He didn't think he could deal with his mother and Jesse at the same time. Jesse was reluctant to leave, anxious Erica would manage to talk Devon out of marrying him. Assuring him there was no way that would happen, Devon packed him and Anya off to the park with Kenny and his boys for the afternoon.

The buzzer sounded, shattering the silence and Devon's nerves at the same time. He pulled himself together enough to go to the intercom and tell security they could send his mother up. Being kept waiting in the foyer while they confirmed Devon was expecting a visitor would annoy Erica immensely. She wasn't the sort of woman who took kindly to having to wait for anyone, especially not her own son. But Devon had read them the riot act after they let Antonio up unannounced that one time, and they were well aware their jobs would be on the line if it happened again.

It was no surprise when she arrived at the door with an ugly scowl on her face, pushing past Devon without so much as a hello, never mind a hug or kiss for the son she hadn't seen for weeks. Erica tossed her handbag onto the sofa, but she didn't sit down or remove her coat.

“So you asked to see me,” Erica said haughtily. “Summoned me here, in fact, although you know how much I loathe coming into the city.”

“I'm sorry, Mother, but—”

“Oh, I'm sure you're sorry,” Erica snorted. “I told you it wouldn't work out. It was a ridiculous idea to start with, going off with that American. Well, if you're going to beg for your job back, I'll save you the bother. You're too late. I've already replaced you. I suppose I could try and find you something, but it would be at entry level—”

“I don't want my job back,” Devon said.

“Oh? Then why am I here?”

“Because I have something to tell you. Something I hope you can find it in your heart to be happy about.”

There was a flicker of interest in his mother's eyes. “Are you dating the American? I knew there was more to it than working for him. You could have just said, Devon. Well, I suppose I'd better meet him. I'm sure I'll find him vastly more suitable than that boy.”

“Mother, I'm not dating Mark,” he said, his irritation rising. He saw his mother's confusion and paused, wanting his next words to have maximum impact. “But I
am
marrying Jesse.”

“Don't be absurd!”

“It's not absurd! We love each other.”

“He's a child,” Erica snapped. “What does someone like him know about love? You know he slept with Antonio, don't you? What does that say about his so-called love for you? I told you, Devon, he's only with you for your money. Well, I won't allow it.”

“There's nothing you can do to stop it,” Devon said hotly, regretting the decision to tell her about marrying Jesse. He should have waited and told her after the wedding, when all her threats would have been pointless. As it was, he wouldn't let Erica stand in their way, but her animosity would be an added pressure neither he nor Jesse needed.

“I'll cut you off,” Erica warned, folding her thin arms across her chest as she glared at him. “If you go through with this farce of a marriage, you'll lose everything. I'll disinherit you. The money, the company, the house... I'll leave it all to Arthur.”

“You should,” Devon retorted. “God knows, the man deserves some reward after putting up with you all these years.”

“He won't stay,” Erica said furiously. “He's a thief. A liar. A cheap, nasty little rent boy. Once the money has gone, he'll move on to the next pathetic middle-aged man too stupid to see him for what he really is.”

“Well, thank you for that, Mother.” Devon smiled sweetly. How could he have believed for a moment she would change? That she might actually be happy for him? If he was stupid, it was for not seeing
Erica
for what she was, not Jesse. “But, for your information, Jesse is not marrying me for money. He's doing it for the baby.”

“What are you talking about? What baby?”

“Our baby, Mother. Mine and Jesse's. Anya. We're going to bring her up together.”

“Have you lost your mind? You can't possibly want a child at your age. Seriously, dear, the American is a much better option than marrying that idiot boy. I can arrange it all for you, get rid of him once and for all.”

Unbelievable! Devon sank onto the sofa and buried his face in his hands. To think he had wasted so much of his adult life looking up to this woman, respecting her, wanting to be like her. For a long time, he had been just like Erica, a cold, ruthless businessperson whose career came first. No time or desire for a personal life, a long-term lover, or children. He saw nothing wrong with living his life that way up until the night he had attended an exclusive soirée thrown by a client, and fallen madly and deeply for a handsome waiter with floppy dark hair and soft brown eyes.

Devon had been fascinated by the young man, finding any excuse to single him out, almost getting Jesse fired for spending all his time talking to Devon and neglecting the other guests. Amazingly, Jesse had seemed just as taken with Devon. That was how it all began, and all these months later, through all the break-ups and reunions, fights and make-up sessions, that mutual attraction had never faded.

Now nothing mattered more than Jesse and the child. But Erica would never understand. She was incapable of understanding the love they shared because she had never experienced it herself.

“I pity you,” he said quietly.

Erica barked a sharp laugh. “I assure you, there's no need.”

“I think there is. You're old and bitter, and you're jealous. Jealous because I have someone who loves me. Oh, you
want
it to be about the money, but it's not and you know it. Jesse loves me, Mother, and you can't stand that, can you?”

Devon got to his feet and walked to the front door. He held it open and stood there, waiting for her to get the hint. Erica snatched her bag up from the sofa and huffed indignantly, looking as though she wanted to say something further. But in the end, she accepted there was nothing more to be said that he was prepared to listen to. She swept by him and out of the apartment in much the same way she had arrived, full of arrogance and self-importance.

Devon slammed the door shut behind her, took a few deep breaths, steadied his shaking hands, and went to call Jesse to tell him it was safe to come home.

WHEN he was six years old, Devon drew a picture of a fairy-tale wedding. It had a handsome prince standing in front of a small church with a crooked spire, a brightly coloured rainbow above his head. He was holding hands with another handsome prince. There was also a unicorn in the picture, which Devon liked to think he put there to ward off unwelcome guests with its wickedly pointed horn. His mother crumpled the picture into a ball and sent him to his room to think about what he had done. She called him a
dirty-minded little boy,
although she never explained what he had done that was so bad.

Back then, Devon knew nothing about being gay. He never imagined he would grow up to prefer a man's body to that of a woman. All he knew, at the grand age of six, was that the idea of one day having his own Prince Charming seemed infinitely more appealing than ending up with any of the princesses in the Disney films he watched.

In reality, his wedding day was a world away from the childish fantasy in his picture. True, he had finally bagged his prince. But there were no rainbows in the grey, rain-lashed skies, and they were getting married in a modest hotel function room with a registrar, rather than a little church with a crooked spire. Jesse had issues with the whole concept of God anyway, and given the hand he had been dealt in life, Devon could understand why. Having waited for so long, Devon felt no need for a big, flashy wedding to prove he and Jesse belonged together. He would happily have the ceremony in a garden shed so long as they ended up married. So, no rainbow, no church, and definitely no unicorn to keep away unwelcome guests, but he had no worries on that score.

The unwelcome guests in this case both swore blind they wouldn't be setting foot anywhere near the wedding. But just to be certain, Devon made damn sure neither of them knew where it was being held. Not that either his mother or Antonio had asked for the location. Of late, neither of them asked him anything at all. Since the dual announcement of Anya's existence and his impending marriage, Erica and Antonio refused to even acknowledge him. He was certain he and Jesse had seen the last of them, especially now Erica had used the media to publicly disinherit him.

Even so, despite the fact his wedding was not the fairy tale he had dreamed of, Devon was the happiest he had ever been. They had friends there, people who genuinely cared about them and were as excited about the fact they were finally tying the knot as he and Jesse were.

Mark had flown over especially and insisted on being Devon's best man, standing at his side throughout the ceremony. Kenny had acted as Jesse's best man, and the two of them were currently standing at the bar, deep in conversation. Devon had always liked Kenny, but these days he liked him even more, grateful for the way he had taken Jesse into his family.

Amanda and the boys were there, too. The brothers roared with over-excited laughter as they chased each other around the tables, while their mother smiled indulgently and sat nursing their three-week-old sister. Beside Amanda, Emily cooed over the baby with a broody expression while balancing Anya on her knee. Emily's new boyfriend, tall and slim and attractive in a geeky sort of way, looked around uncomfortably, slightly in awe of the fact he was at the wedding of the increasingly famous model Jesse Young.

Larry surprised everyone by turning up with his life partner, a pleasant, mild-mannered man named James. Until that moment, Devon had no idea Larry was gay. Not that it concerned him in the slightest, obviously, but he had known Larry for years and felt slightly ashamed he hadn't known something so fundamental about his personal life. James was a sweetheart, though, and Devon warmed to him instantly. More so once he learned it was James who persuaded Larry to give Jesse a chance to prove himself. Devon could only hope he and Jesse would be half as happy as Larry and James seemed.

Apart from that small, select group of friends, there were also a few of Kenny's models in attendance, ridiculously beautiful men and women Jesse had worked with who were drafted by Kenny to bump up the numbers, although Devon insisted it was not necessary. At least none of them were recognisable from the time Devon caught Jesse mid-foursome, although it was hard to tell when they were standing upright with their clothes on.

As a wedding present, Mark presented them with keys to a three-bedroom cottage just a stone's throw from Kenny and Amanda's. Devon had argued it was too much, but Mark's insistence that the third room was for his use whenever he was in the country, and the sheer joy on Jesse's face, meant he gave in and accepted the gift with good grace.

George and Oscar were just as excited about them moving into the village as Jesse was. The boys adored Jesse; looked on him as a big brother. In much the same way, they accepted Anya as a sister. Their real sister was too small to be of interest to them and it was sweet the way they put up with Anya toddling round after them.