Top Shelf: A Seacroft Novel Page 15

  Picture perfect.

  A few more blocks and they turned onto another street, where the houses were even older and the properties spaced even farther apart.

  “You grew up here?” Martin asked, forcing back his nerves. The neighborhood around the campus at Mount Garner was different. Newer, but not as well maintained. Here, the houses were old brick homes, some of them three stories. One had a garage bigger than the house Martin’s mother rented while he and Brian were growing up.

  “Don’t get swept away by the Georgian glamor,” Seb said. “They’re drafty as hell in the winter.”

  They pulled into the last house on the street, a bit smaller than the ones they’d passed but still impressive. A Watersmith flag flapped lazily from a pole at the top of the circular driveway.

  “Good thing I brought Penny’s suit,” Martin said, gazing out the window.

  “We should get you one of your own. I’m going to need you to wear that a lot in the future.” Seb leaned across the console and kissed him hard.

  “What was that for?”

  “You looked nervous, and I’ve been wanting to do that for the last hundred miles.”

  “Delayed gratification makes everything better?” Martin tried to will the color in his cheeks to go down before he had to go inside to meet Seb’s family.

  “I’ll remember that.” Seb’s expression said he wasn’t talking about kissing. It did nothing to help the state of Martin’s face, or the way the air was suddenly too warm and his clothes too tight.

  The front door to the house opened, and a tall man with sandy blond hair stepped out onto the porch. He waved and said something they couldn’t hear inside the car.

  Seb gave a heavy sigh. “Here we go. Say the word and we’ll turn this car around.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I really do.” But he undid his seatbelt and got out of the car.

  “I was giving you another thirty minutes and then I was coming to get you,” the man said as they approached. He was taller than Seb, and his hair was darker, but he had the same blue eyes and full mouth. He wore pressed khakis and a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. Compared to Seb’s worn leather jacket and faded jeans, he looked like he could run a bank.

  “Ollie, if I weren’t coming, you know I’d already be a hundred miles in the other direction by now,” Seb said. The brothers hesitated for a second before they pulled each other into an awkward hug. Oliver glanced over Seb’s shoulder toward Martin.

  “You must be the doctor.” His smile was easier as he held out his hand for Martin to shake.

  “Dr. Martin Lindsey, at your service,” Seb said.

  Martin couldn’t help the nervous flutter in his chest at Seb’s proud smile, or the teasing look in Oliver’s eyes, but he put on his bravest face. “It’s nice to meet you. Seb’s told me a lot.”

  “No he hasn’t,” Oliver said. “But he didn’t tell me much about you either, so at least we’re both starting from the same place.”

  Seb opened the rental car’s trunk. “We’re not going to stay long, but we’ll be back for dinner. I just wanted to drop off a gift. It’s kind of fragile, and Kenneth will kill me for driving this far without packing it properly. Then Martin and I are going to go get checked into the hotel. I thought I’d give him the grand tour. Is dinner casual tonight, or do we need to dress up?”

  “It’s casual,” Oliver said. “But listen, Seb, there’s a bit of a problem.”

  “What kind of problem? Martin, can you take one end of this?” Seb was busy pulling a box about the size of a small TV from the back of the car.

  “Aunt Karen called a little while ago. They’re on their way up.”

  “Aunt Karen is my dad’s youngest sister,” Seb said for Martin’s benefit.

  “What’s in this?” Martin’s arms trembled under the weight of the box.

  “It’s a gift. From both of us.”

  “Both of us?”

  “Seb, are you listening?” Oliver followed them into the house.

  “Aunt Karen. She called. Continue,” Seb grunted as they made their way into a wide front hall.

  “Jeanine decided she was coming at the last minute.”

  “That’s my cousin,” Seb said. “She’s seventeen.”

  “She’s twenty,” Oliver said. “And she’s bringing her boyfriend.”

  “Ollie.” Seb’s face was strained. Whatever was in the box weighed more than it had any right to. “This whole family chronicle is fascinating, but can you please show us where to put this before we drop it?”

  Oliver lead them down a hall into a bright room furnished in warm woods and plush carpeting. A table was set up by two French doors, and they placed the box on it with an ominous rattle.

  “Seriously.” Martin stretched until something in his spine popped. “What was in that?”

  “Just a little something for my favorite grandmother.” Seb smiled, blue eyes flashing, before he turned to his brother. “Is Nana going to be at dinner tonight?”

  “No, she’s resting. She’ll be here tomorrow. But Seb, I need you to listen.” Oliver waved his hand impatiently.

  “Can I go get a drink of water first? We’ve been in the car for hours.”

  “Seb!” Oliver’s voice rose, and Martin froze in place.

  Seb sighed. “If I die from dehydration, it’ll be your fault.”

  “Drama queen,” Oliver muttered. “You’re not here five minutes, and you’re already irritating the shit out of me.”

  “I told you not to invite me.” Seb grinned.

  “Karen’s coming with Uncle Richard. Jeanine announced this morning she’s coming with her boyfriend. Karen’s got a room booked at the Bluewater Inn.”

  “Isn’t that where we’re staying?” Martin asked.

  “So what’s the problem?” Seb said. “Karen’s not my favorite person, but I’m grown up enough to make small talk if we pass each other on the way to the ice machine.”

  “They need another room for Jeanine and the boyfriend.”

  “So?”

  Oliver ground his teeth. “Are you being dense on purpose?”

  “Ollie, I really don’t see what this has to do with us.”

  “The Bluewater’s sold out.”

  “So Jeanine and her boy toy can stay somewhere else. They’d probably prefer it actually.”

  “Everywhere’s sold out.” Oliver ran a hand through his hair. “It’s homecoming at Watersmith this weekend. That’s half the reason Parker picked this date for the party, since everyone we know will be in town already. But all the accommodations are sold out for fifty miles.”

  “That’s their problem.”

  “You’re such a brat!”

  Seb raised his hands in the air. “What are you trying to say? You obviously want something from me. We’ve booked a room with two double beds. You want Jeanine and her boy—”

  “Please don’t call him a boy toy again.” Oliver ran a hand through his hair.

  “Boyfriend to stay with us? That’s just weird. Martin doesn’t know any of these people.”

  Martin took a step back at the mention of his name. Something was building between the brothers, and he didn’t want to be in the middle when the storm broke.

  “I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” Oliver said.

  “Then what?”

  “I’m asking you to stay here.”

  And there it was. Seb’s expression turned so thunderous Martin wished for an umbrella, even though they were indoors.

  “No.”

  “Seb, please.”

  “No.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. The look on his face said he’d punch his brother otherwise.

  “It’s just two nights.”

  “Come on, we’re going.” Seb turned and grabbed Martin’s elbow.

  “Going?” Oliver trailed after them.

  “Back to Seacroft. I’ll stop at Nana’s on the way out of town and apologize.”

  “Seb
, come on. We’re all adults. You can sleep here for two nights.”

  “I told him I would never step foot under this roof again. You think I can do two nights?”

  Martin didn’t ask about the “him” Seb was referring to. They were walking so fast Martin nearly stumbled. He checked over his shoulder, and his pulse picked up more at Oliver’s pained expression. The pressed, confident persona was gone. Instead, there was real distress in the man’s eyes; a wordless plea for help.

  Had Brian ever looked at Martin like that? Had he been too caught up in his own swamp of fear and apathy to notice?

  His feet slowed down. Seb’s grip on his elbow slipped.

  “What’s wrong?” he said.

  “We should stay.” Martin fought not to tug at the sleeves of his coat. He fought to look like he meant it.

  “What?”

  Oliver stared at them helplessly, like all his cards had been played out and now he had nothing left to hold his hurricane little brother in place.

  “It’s just a bed to sleep in,” Martin said. “Who cares if it’s at a hotel or here? Didn’t we come all this way for your grandmother and her party?”

  Seb’s mouth pressed together until his lips were so tight they were nearly white.

  “You don’t have to stay in your room. You can both sleep in the main floor guest room,” Oliver said. “It’s the farthest from Mom and Dad, and bigger too.”

  “We’re not sleeping together,” Seb said.

  Martin flushed, first from embarrassment at the casual way Seb said it, and then from a sting of disappointment.

  “You’re not?” The sad look on Oliver’s face gave way to confusion.

  “The hotel room had two beds for a reason.”

  “Oh.” Oliver said, and then understanding hit him. “Oh! I’m sorry. When you said you were bringing a date, I assumed—”

  “You assumed wrong.”

  Another twist of disappointment swirled in Martin’s chest. They hadn’t talked about sleeping arrangements. Not that he didn’t want to sleep together, now that he thought about it. Not that he hadn’t thought about it before, but to hear Seb say it . . .

  “We can put Martin in the guest room. It’ll give you some more privacy.” He smiled at Martin. It was a charming smile, likeable. Martin could see why Oliver had been successful in life, with a face like his and a smile like that.

  “Why can’t Karen’s spawn stay here again? Why are we the ones who have to give up our hotel reservation?” Seb protested, but the fire had gone out of him.

  “Two words. Thanksgiving 2009.”

  Seb nodded. “Technically, that’s four words. Or possibly five.”

  “Asshole.” But Oliver was smiling again.

  Seb ran his hands through his hair, making it stand up from his scalp in white blond streaks like lightning. “Our original agreement still stands, though. You keep Dad away from me. I will be civil to everyone, and I will sleep in his house, but we are out of here first thing on Sunday morning.”

  “Fine. Yes, fine, I’ll run interference. Let me show you guys to your rooms.”

  * * *

  In his childhood bedroom, Seb unzipped his bag, shaking. Fuck Oliver for keeping this from them until they were already here. Of course, he’d basically proved his brother’s need for secrecy by nearly storming out anyway. But then he’d felt Martin’s hand on his arm and seen Oliver’s lying, miserable face.

  He’d make the effort, at least until someone else pissed him off.

  Ollie said he’d show Martin to the guest room. When Seb was small, it was the den, and then converted to a bedroom when his great-grandmother lived with them for a few years before going to a nursing home. After that, it was reserved for guests, with its own en-suite bathroom.

  He didn’t like leaving Martin alone in the house, where members of Seb’s family could be lurking around any corner. He set his bag on the bed and headed downstairs.

  Martin was pulling a shirt over his head as Seb pushed open the guest room door. Navy waffle knit covered the line of his spine, an enticing path that Seb’s fingers itched to trace. He grinned and knocked against the doorframe. Martin jumped and spun, cheeks pink and hair askew.

  “Most people knock and then wait.” He pulled the shirt the rest of the way down. It still hung loose on him, but the body underneath was lean and strong, not weak or thin.

  “Most people close the door before they take off their shirt in a strange house.”

  The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up. “Oliver said everyone else was out.”

  The edge of Seb’s earlier adrenaline still clung to him, making him think nasty things about Martin and his shirt.

  “So you were waiting for me then?” He tugged at the hem, pulling Martin closer. Martin barely hesitated as their lips met, and Seb laughed as he tasted him. Martin sighed as Seb’s hands slid around his body.

  “Were you waiting for me?” he asked again.

  Martin didn’t reply, but he deepened the kiss, his tongue pressing against Seb’s lips. Seb nipped at it before he opened his mouth and let Martin in. Surprisingly, as the professor became more comfortable around Seb in this way, he did indeed turn out to be a great kisser, with the right mix of Martin-esque hesitation and determination.

  Seb’s earlier tension faded. He concentrated on the feeling of Martin’s hands on him and Martin’s tongue in his mouth. As he pressed their bodies together more fully, Martin gasped. The sound sent a thrill of surprise and desire through him.

  Behind them, someone cleared their throat.

  Martin jumped back like he’d been electrocuted. Seb growled as he turned to face their audience.

  Oliver stood in the doorway, looking sheepish.

  “Asshole,” Seb muttered.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider your sleeping arrangements?”

  It wasn’t like that, not really. They hadn’t discussed it. Not that he didn’t have hopes and aspirations, which would have been easy enough to figure out in the privacy of their hotel room, but he always wanted to give Martin the choice. No need to move too fast.

  Although, with that kiss . . .

  “What do you want?” he said.

  “People are going to be arriving soon. Before they get here, there’s . . . ” Oliver hesitated. “There’s one more thing I need to talk to you about.”

  “Fine.” Seb needed a moment longer with Martin. “We’ll come find you in a bit.”

  “No. I need to talk to you.”

  Something was up. Oliver was definitely looking nervous. Seb gave Martin’s hand a squeeze, eyes tracing his face, then sighed. “Fine. Lead the way.”

  Oliver pushed past them both to the tall patio door at the far end of the room. He slid it open, then stood aside to wait for Seb. “It won’t take long. Martin, make yourself at home. I’ll bring him back.”

  Seb paused long enough to kiss Martin again, silently telling him to hold that thought. He didn’t care if the whole family was there to watch.

  Oliver led him out over the back lawn to the small pond in the corner. When they’d been little, their mother kept Japanese carp in it, white and bright orange ones that sucked at the surface of the water for pellets. Then one summer, a snapping turtle took up residence in the pond, and the fish disappeared, one by one.

  “This better not be a lecture about propriety,” Seb said when Ollie slowed. “You were all set to put us in the same room, and everyone knows I’m a big old queer, so it’s not like anyone’s got any right to complain about who I kiss.”

  “Don’t be a child.” Oliver ran a hand over his head. Seb thought again that his brother looked tired. Older. His hair was longer than it had ever been. His shirt was pressed but untucked. He was the same Oliver, but less tidy.

  “Did you bring anyone to this shindig?” Seb asked.

  “No. I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

  “Couldn’t convince Cooper to come, just for old time’s sake? You two were practically married.
Sometimes I think Mom and Dad liked him better than you. Remember that time he broke his ankle when we went skiing for spring break? Mom was hysterical. They definitely liked him better than me. Did he become the fourth Stevenson child after I left the last time?”

  “Just stop talking for a second!” Oliver walked away, running his hand through his hair again in an old nervous habit. When he’d stopped biting his nails in junior high, he needed something to do with his hands, and his hair became the unfortunate victim. Stevenson hair came from tough stock, which was just as well because otherwise Oliver’s would have given up the ghost a long time ago.

  Seb smiled and bit his lip, while his big brother paced. He’d promised to be civil. He hadn’t promised to not poke the buttons he’d learned to press over the years.

  “I need your help,” Oliver said finally.

  “Okay. Parker got you tying chair covers in the morning?”

  “No. Well, yes. But that’s . . . ” Oliver did another lap around the pond.

  Anticipation made the hairs on Seb’s neck stand up. This was going to be big. And if Oliver was asking him for help, he was desperate.

  “Did you get some nice girl pregnant? Afraid of telling Mom and Dad you’ve sullied the Stevenson name?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Oliver spun on his heel and started marching back toward the house. Seb laughed and trotted after him, tugging on his sleeve.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. Tell me what’s up.”

  Oliver paced a few more laps at the edge of the pond. Seb waited.

  “I’m leaving the firm.”

  “Say again?”

  “My job. I’m quitting my job.”

  Seb nodded. “I figured that’s what that meant. What do you mean though? You love that job.”

  Oliver smiled bleakly. “How would you know?”

  Seb went to answer and then snapped his mouth shut. He had a bunch of smartass comments, but Oliver wasn’t wrong. Seb didn’t really know much about his brother’s life at all.

  “When?”

  “At the end of the summer.”

  “Next summer?” Seb asked. Oliver always liked to be the man with the plan, but telling Seb about this almost a year ahead of time was excessive.