Chiaroscuro (24 page)

"All my layers and depth are on the inside," Ben said, capturing Jamie's hand as it idled down his chest.

Jamie laughed and moved on top of him. "You have many layers and great, unfathomable depths." He kissed Ben, holding his face in both hands, and whispered, "Come to bed with me. Stay with me tonight."

"I have work in the morning."

"I have an alarm clock. You know I'll sleep through it so don't worry about waking me." He moved his fingers in Ben's grip to stroke his palm. "Stay with me."

"I have trouble sleeping in strange beds." He kissed Jamie's nose and pushed aside the afghan. "And I don't want to make my way to work in those shorts. They're sexy but uncomfortable as fuck."

Jamie nodded and smiled--but it didn't take a genius to see he was hiding his disappointment. "All right. It was good to see you tonight."

"Yeah." He picked up his overcoat from the chair he'd draped it over hours earlier and pulled it on. "You know I like being with you, Jamie."

"I know." He stood too, afghan wrapped around him like a brightly-colored toga.

"You should come by the bakery more. You could bring your computer--we've got tables for you to work on. Plenty of coffee and muffins, too."

"I'll do that."

Ben picked up his costume pieces under Jamie's gaze, and then kissed him lightly. "Talk to you soon, okay?"

"Okay," Jamie echoed him, and saw him out, closing the door behind him with a quiet snick.

Alone in his own bed, Ben lay with his eyes closed, expecting to fall asleep with his usual ease. He was tired from dancing and sex, and he'd been awake for most of the day. But sleep didn't come quickly, and after an hour or two he gave up and got out of bed, dressed and went out to the street to walk around the block a few times.

As he walked he looked up to where he knew Jamie's apartment was. He expected it to be dark, but a light was on in the sun room. I could go up, he thought. He's still awake--I could go up, keep him company…

But if he did, it would be like admitting--well, he wasn't sure what it would be admitting except that it was nothing he was ready to say.

He walked around the block two times, three, and on the fourth journey Jamie's apartment was dark. Ben climbed the stairs and went home, lay down in his bed and stared at the garden on his ceiling until it was time to get up.

***

Trying to frost a cake after a sleepless night was not a good idea, Ben decided after he scraped off yet another attempt at violets. Violets, goddamn violets, why the fucking violets?

Ben leaned over the counter and rested his head on the counter top. "Benjie! Hair in the frosting!" Mike admonished him.

"It's fine," he muttered "I'm not shedding anything anywhere that matters."

"How late were you up last night?"

"All night. I didn't sleep."

"Christ. No wonder Pops was so mad at you."

"Pops... is Pops. Where is he, anyway?" He raised his head to look at his brother, chin resting on his arms.

"Up in the shop, talking to a customer. An English guy. Jamie, I think he said his name was? He said he's a friend of yours."

Ben stood up straight. "Jamie's here?"

"Yeah, he came in about half an hour ago with his computer." He squeezed past Ben with a tray of frosted cookies.

Ben covered the bowl of purple frosting and went out to the shop. Jamie's voice was unmistakable--no one sounded like him, no one had that low raspy voice. "So what we'll do is hook up computer number one and computer number two, so we can see the orders on computer number two and, and this is the beauty of it, you can use computer number two for your bookkeeping and whatever else you'd like to use the computer for."

"But you're still not telling me why I should spend a thousand dollars on a glorified calculator," Matthew said and then stopped and looked up as Ben stopped by their table. "Hi, Benjie. Looking for a place to nap?"

"Hi, Pops," Ben said wryly. "Hey, Jamie."

"Hey."

There was no mistaking the way Jamie's face lit up, and he packed that small word with so much emotion that it gave Ben pause. He had to smile back. "Hey," he repeated and squeezed Jamie's shoulder.

Matthew cleared his throat. "Jamie is explaining how he's built a web page for you and how he'd like to make one for the bakery."

"Well, web site--your own server and ordering system, in addition to the gallery for Ben's wedding cakes."

"Oh," Ben said, because he understood about half of that. "What do you think, Pops?"

"I think it sounds like a lot of money for very little return."

"One other thing," Jamie said, "is that we could set up a router to the web server and you could offer free wireless to your customers--access with purchase. That will bring people in."

"I never know what to think about people coming in to work," Matthew said. "Typing and sipping coffee all day."

"Programmers like a comfortable place to work, and they live on coffee."

Matthew leaned back in his chair and looked at the screen of Jamie's laptop. "It's very nice-looking," he admitted. "But printing up new business cards…"

"We need to get new ones in the next two months anyway, Pops," said Ben.

"We'd have to expand the coffee shop. And then there's pushing the wedding cakes--we could use more of that business." He sighed. "I'll have to think about it. Did you finish the violet cake, Ben?"

"No. I can't get the violets right." Jamie started packing up his computer, and Ben said, "I really think the website is a good idea."

"I don't know if it's right for us," Matthew said, standing. "Do you want help with the violets? We can get Mikey--"

"Mike can't do flowers. He doesn't have the patience. When Julio is in tomorrow I'll get him to help. I thought I'd go home and go back to bed."

"The wedding is in two days, Benjamin."

"I'll see you later," Jamie murmured to Ben and headed out the door, his laptop bag slung across this chest.

"I know the wedding is in two days," Ben said tiredly, "and the cake will be ready in two days, but I am too exhausted to mess with it any more today. I'm going home." He started for the kitchen, then turned back. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd remember Jamie is my friend."

"I know he's one of your friends."

"He's one of the most important ones. Okay? Jesus."

"Don't blaspheme, Ben," Matthew said, rubbing his eyes. "Go home. Get some sleep."

"Thanks for your permission," Ben said tartly and went into the back of the bakery. By the time he'd changed into his street clothes and gone to his car, he expected Jamie to be long gone, but he could see him walking down the hill. "Jamie!" he called and then again when he didn't turn, "Jamie!" as he descended the hill to catch up with him.

"Hullo again," Jamie said when he saw him. "You're done for the day?"

"Yeah, I don't keep my eyes open any longer. Did you walk? Do you want a ride?"

"I walk all the time when I'm in the city." Jamie eyed him. "Is it safe?"

"You can drive if you think I'm not able." He held out his keys.

"Are you giving cars away?" said a guy waiting at the nearby bus stop.

"No, sorry, man," Ben said, grinning. "Let's get home, eh, Jamie?"

Jamie took his keys, smiling, and they climbed the hill to the bakery. Ben got into the passenger side gratefully and leaned his head back against the headrest. "I'm sorry about my dad."

"Why?" Jamie started up the car and spent a moment adjusting the seat and the wheel.

"Because he could've been a lot friendlier."

Jamie shrugged, twisted back to watch the drive as he backed out into the street. "He's probably not terribly comfortable with talking to people you're sleeping with."

Ben looked out the window. "Yeah, aside from Tristan he really hasn't."

"So he's not a fan. I'll survive." He smiled at him again. "What wedding cake are you working on?"

"It's a violet nightmare, Jamie. The bride is obsessed with purple."

"So is it hard or something?"

"No, it's just boring. The same thing over and over and over…" He yawned. "I'll finish it tomorrow. My assistant will be in--that will help."

"Oo, an assistant. Very posh."

"Yeah. He's a nice kid. His name's Julio--he's a student at the culinary institute. He's got a good future in the business."

"It was nice of you to take him in."

Ben shrugged. "It's an alumni thing--giving back to the school." He looked out the window again, then said, "About last night--"

"It's fine. You can't sleep in strange beds. That's understandable." They stopped at a stop light and a group of school children crossed in front of them, holding hands, in a line like ducklings.

Ben smiled at the sight of them. "I feel like I kind of left you in a lurch," he said to Jamie.

"You didn't. I mean, I do prefer sleeping with company than sleeping alone but it's not necessity."

"I could work on it," Ben said.

The light changed and Jamie took his foot off the brake, easing the car back into busy mid-day traffic. "I'm not asking you to change for me."

"I'm not offering to change."

A pause. "Then I'm not sure what you're offering, Benjie."

He looked out the window again. "I'm not sure either, really. Just, um. I'd like us to keep sleeping together, that's all."

"And you're willing to go above and beyond to keep doing it."

Ben tapped his fingers on his knee and didn't speak again until they'd pulled into their building's parking garage. "I want you to do the website, by the way. Even if my folks don't like the idea, I do.  It'll be good for business."

"That's why I want to do it."

"So I'll get you pictures and all that whenever you want."

"Okay." Jamie turned off the engine and handed Ben the keys. "Get some sleep." He got out of the car and Ben followed him, locking the doors absently.

"Jamie? Are you mad at me?"

Jamie stopped walking and looked at him. "Should I be?"

"No--I just--look. I'm not Relationship Guy, okay? If there's some etiquette that I'm missing you need to let me know. I've never really dated a guy--I don't really know what you expect from me."

Jamie blinked. "Are we dating?"

"I don't know. Are we?"

Jamie said slowly, "I was under the impression we agreed to sleep together when we don't have any other plans."

"Right," Ben said. "Right. You're right. 'Cause we--'cause you need to date more. Ought to date more."

"Right," Jamie agreed. "Since falling in love at first sight has worked out so well for me in the past. I really ought to be more like you--have sex for its own sake and not be caught up in emotion."

"Yeah. That's exactly how I do it." He nodded and wondered why he felt so deflated. "You're still going to be my date to the wedding, right?"

"Of course." He stopped again on the stairs, to turn and smile at him. "I wouldn't miss the chance to see you in a tux."

"Okay," he said, relieved. "Okay."

Chapter Twelve

"Do you need help with the bow tie?" Jamie called from Ben's living room where he was waiting in his favorite suit. "We need to leave for the church soon."

"I usually get the clip-on kind," Ben called back. He came out of his bedroom, in tuxedo pants and his crisp white shirt, the ends of his red bow tie hanging loose around his neck. "I don't suppose you know how?"

"I know how," Jamie said and went to him to help. Ben shifted on his feet and lifted his chin to give Jamie room to work on the tie.

"All the other bridesmaids will be helping Tristan right now," he said after a moment. "The dress is fantastic. She'll look like a princess."

"All brides are beautiful," Jamie murmured, working on getting the rabbit around the tree and through the hole.

"Well, Tristan is particularly beautiful." He sighed. "I shouldn't feel so weird about this. I know she wants to be married. I know she should be married. And Laird's a nice guy."

"You're taking this a lot better than most ex-husbands would," Jamie said soothingly. "And that you're standing up with her is very admirable."

"They've asked me to give a toast, too." He looked at Jamie from under his lashes.

"You'll do fine." Jamie stepped back to survey his handiwork, and straightened the tie a fraction. "You'll do her proud. And you look very handsome."

Ben smirked, tugging on the ends of the bow tie and arching an eyebrow. "Thanks. Now. Jacket, boutonnière, and I'm ready." He went back into his bedroom to get the tuxedo jacket.

"The boutonnière is in the fridge," Jamie said and went to fetch it: a small perfect red rosebud with a sprig of baby's breath that he had picked up for Ben that morning. He'd been more involved in the wedding preparations than he had expected: he'd been Ben's date to the rehearsal dinner, got the tuxedo from the shop and the flowers from the florist; and assured Tristan, over the phone and in person, that Ben would be at the church on time.

No bride was completely stress-free and as the date drew closer Tristan's calm was clearly harder to maintain. Ben told Jamie some of Laird's family was hinting to Laird that she was marrying him only for his money, but even though Jamie didn't know her well he knew what a lie that was. He felt for her--it couldn't be easy to marry into a family that didn't want you.

If nothing else, though, she could take comfort in knowing the cake was perfect. Ben had worked long hours on it: tiers of chocolate and golden cake, each layer frosted to look like a woven basket with marzipan berries, fruits and sprigs of holly spilling out. Jamie had documented its creation for Ben's website, marveling at how mere sugar could make such beautiful art.

The groom's cake was more light-hearted. Laird fished when he had a day off, so Ben had made a cake to look like a rowboat on a pond. A Just Married sign hung from the boat's stern, and inside the boat a marzipan bridal couple in dozed against each other. A fishing line was tied to the groom's toe and a trout poked its head out of the pond. Laird had laughed out loud when Ben described his idea: "Perfect. It'll be perfect." Jamie thought it was, but he'd never seen Ben make an ugly cake yet.