Winter's Knight

Chapter 1-3

Lucian could almost hear the machinations of Shea’s brain. When the silence stretched too long, Lucian stopped watching weather and watched Shea gnaw his lip and look at the watch instead. “And I didn’t get anything for you,” Shea quipped, but his brows drew together, a sign that he was puzzled, curious, and most likely had worked out the entire situation but wanted somebody else to do the confirmation. “So this is a belated thank you for that night?”

“No,” Lucian answered, hesitantly. “It’s a proposal.” And he regretted the choice of word when the color drained out of Shea’s face.

“A what?”

“Offer,” Lucian amended. “It’s an offer. To date you. Me.” Lucian rolled his eyes. “I’d like to ask you out, Shea. Am, in fact, asking…you…out…” Shea looked positively green, and Lucian wondered if he could find the enterprising soul who’d managed to make time reversal possible, pay the poor fool an obscene amount of cash, and use the technology to erase this night.

“Me? Why me?” Shea gaped, and Lucian’s hope surged like a willful puppy. He had expected shock. Well, he’d accounted for all possibilities from shock to a left hook, but he could handle anything so long as it wasn’t outright disgust.

“Because—” Lucian began.

“You can’t mean me,” Shea pressed. “Wasn’t there a picture of you in the paper with the heiress to that big-assed fortune in oil or coal or something?”

“It’s oil, and it’s for show. Woman couldn’t suck a straw correctly, but even if she could, it wouldn’t matter, as I’m far more interested in the economist turned construction worker.” Lucian let himself sweep a hungry gaze over Shea. If the resistance had to do with Lucian’s appreciation for both genders or the relationships he kept for appearances, he could easily put those lines of protest to rest. “Very interested. For years, in fact, and in stark denial as I was quite sure he’d tell me to go drown in a lake. But if that’s not quite the case, and you need data to support my opinion, I can give you a host of reasons as to why you, sweet Shea.”

Shea’s expression softened when Lucian used the old childhood insult as a term of endearment. He didn’t protest it, though, and Lucian made note. “But…but…but…” Shea shook his head, and Lucian glared daggers at John, who hovered on the sidelines with the food that was so extraneous as to be laughable.

“I was happy to throw you in the lake at the camp when we were ten, remember that?”

“I do,” Lucian said dryly. “There were eels.”

“Christ,” Shea cursed, evidently not hearing Lucian. He shoved fingers through his hair. “We’ve camped together, did freakin’ overnights, and I was hungover and sick in your room in college more than once and you tucked me in like some toddler. I thought the Raquelle thing was just you dabblin’ on my side of the fence, and I never saw you look back.”

Lucian winced. “I know, my apolo—”

“That’s not…” Shea overrode Lucian, and something obviously occurred to him, made him panic. “s**t, Luke, data? What do you mean data?”

“I know without a doubt that should you want me, it wouldn’t be for money or power or fame,” Lucian said, calm in the wake of Shea’s storm and ticking items off of his fingers. “You know the best and worst of me, still agreed to see me, and maybe even call me a friend when I’m not in earshot. You know the difficulties in dating me and, more importantly, have the intelligence to understand the consequences.” Lucian paused for Shea’s snort. “You challenge me, you make me laugh, and while I’m particular and difficult in many aspects, I assure you I make an excellent partner.” Lucian dropped a dose of coy into his expression. “Loyal, experienced, considerate, and I enjoy spoiling worthy people rotten if they let me. And last, but certainly not least, I’ve always been attracted to you, am, I admit, even more so now, and we’d be f*****g spectacular in bed once we got a few kinks out of the way. So. Yes.” Lucian had to admit he enjoyed seeing Shea stunned into inarticulate silence. “You.”

Shea’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. “Uh. Right.”

Lucian smiled, and this time it didn’t hurt. “And though I know your opinion on, what is it? ‘Expensive trinkets?’ I do hope you take the watch without me having to give it to you six times.”

Shea grunted, unimpressed, and pursed his lips in absorption and calculation. “Okay. So, being the kinda guy that likes ta see how high the building is before he jumps off, what do you have planned if I say yes?”

“There’s a fundraiser this Friday for the children’s hospital at the Palace,” Lucian said, still wishing the convention center would succumb to marketing pressures and change its name, despite looking like what the current title implied. “I thought we could go together. Lots of people, so if you didn’t like being there with me, you could simply appear to be there without me. It’d look good and please your family, who are on the guest list. It’d give you a taste of how being with me in the public eye could go, and…” Lucian pushed aside plates and table adornments so he could reach across and touch Shea’s hand with a fingertip. “Having you there would make it easier on me, even if it was only as a friend.”

“Easier on you, and my family’s invited.” Shea bowed his head until his hand covered his eyes. “Katy’ll give me such hell. I bet it’s ballgowns and tuxes, not cocktail dresses and sport jackets, huh?”

“Unfortunately for you, but lucky for the rest of us who get to see you spitshined.”

Shea groaned. “What happens if a damned construction grunt doesn’t survive the event? Will you just bury me quietly in the courtyard?”

“If you have a preference for dirt, I’m sure I could accommodate, though I’m equally sure I could find more palatable places to bury you.”

“What, under a hill of caviar?”

“Not quite what I had in mind,” Lucian said, shoving aside images of naked skin.

“Oh?” Shea looked daunted but ended up chuckling. “Well, Mom’ll be pleased to see me inna damned penguin suit. So just the one date before deciding anything more? Or are you…” Shea frowned. “You said…I’m afraid I might not be…” Shea halted again. “Maybe a step at a time?”

Lucian started to sit back, but something about the odd look in Shea’s eyes stopped him. Instead, he covered Shea’s hand with his own, and like always, the simple touch that Lucian so rarely allowed himself with anyone made his skin tingle and spark. Shea started, but didn’t pull away, and the eager dog hope spawned a new litter. “I don’t expect it to be easy for you,” Lucian said. “And if you end up not looking at me as anything more than the straight asshole who used to goad you into spelling bees and trying for valedictorian, I’ll understand. Forgive me, but after all these years and seeing Clark, I had to…ask.”

Shea looked down at their hands. “Clark happy, huh? God help us. All right, I’ll try this and see how it goes.”

“You will?” Lucian asked, quiet and unintentional. It was an incredible thing, really, to know with startling clarity exactly how much he’d expected Shea to deny him.

“I will,” Shea answered and looked up at Lucian and then away. “If I were sane, I’d get the f**k out of here before dessert. But you asking me for anything…” Shea shook his head. “You got my attention.”

“Oh, good,” Lucian said, dragging fingertips along the shape of Shea’s knuckles. Shea let him do it, and Lucian found his wit buried beneath a pile of relief. “So glad I chose to phrase the imperial command in the form of a question.”

Shea snorted with laughter. “Yes. Yes you did, Prince Luke.”

Lucian started to comment on the insulting high school nickname that managed to sound appealing from Shea’s mouth, started to say something about how good it was to hear familiar inflection in Shea’s voice, but got distracted when Shea turned his hand over and clasped Lucian’s fingers.

“And despite your slick presentation of your so-called data, it’s still gonna take a while for me to believe,” Shea said. “You interested in me, and not just as a target marked ‘Hit Here to Win Prize’.”

“You’re more than some carnival spoil, Shea,” Lucian said, perhaps too emphatically because Shea flinched. Lucian took Shea’s hand in both of his, squeezed, and he thought about his words. If Shea could be honest in nervousness, then Lucian could, too. “It was only ‘slick’ because I’ve practiced it in my head for years. Only seemed easy because you didn’t see me sitting here for the last two hours.” Lucian toyed with a scar and wanted to kiss it.

“Two hours with this in your lap.” Shea pulled the watch toward himself and closed the lid, evidently in acceptance of the gift and its attachments. “That kind of wait’d make anyone hungry. Where is that waiter anyway?”

“Practicing his cowering rabbit routine,” Lucian said, finding John and signaling for service. He was dizzy with adrenaline and amazement but made himself let go of Shea’s hand else he be unable to for the rest of dinner. “And yes. I’m starving.”

Shea looked at Lucian and gave a slow nod. “I guess I’m pretty damned hungry, too.”

“Then by all means,” Lucian said. “Let’s begin.”