Aria (14 page)

She laughed and followed him back to the dressing room, which wasn’t much larger than a closet. “No,” she said as she busied herself trying to straighten the multitude of medals pinned to the front of his jacket. “But Mindy says she’s got a delivery out back with your name on it. Flowers. I wasn’t sure, you know, if you might be allergic, and I didn’t want to take the chance.”

Aiden smiled and thought once more of Sam and how he might thank him for his thoughtfulness. “You can put them in here, if you can find a free spot.”

Sweetheart—
You’re quite a difficult one to catch up with these days. David tells me you’ve moved to Philadelphia, but he wouldn’t give me any more information. I daresay he’s angry with me after my pathetic performance in Paris last year. He’s right to be. Let’s talk soon. I miss you. I was an idiot.
Call me,
Cam

Aiden balled the card up into a wad. Disappointment mingled with guilt at the realization that it hadn’t been Sam who’d sent the flowers.
It doesn’t matter. I don’t need him to send flowers to know he’s thinking of me.

Still, he’d been happy for just a moment to think it
had
been Sam who’d sent them. He
wished
it had been Sam for so many reasons, not the least of which was that he still felt insecure about their fledgling relationship and being gone again so soon after moving in. Sam and he had talked nearly every night since he’d been gone, but the conversation had been stiff, and Aiden couldn’t help but wonder if Sam was having second thoughts.

Charlene stuck an extra pin in his wig, which had slipped backward on his forehead a bit. “I’m flying out tomorrow.” He managed to smile back at her in the mirror. “Why don’t you take them home so someone gets to enjoy them.”

She beamed. Aiden wondered how Cam might react to the knowledge that a middle-aged woman from a small town in the Midwest would be enjoying the outrageously expensive flowers. Charlene could scarcely afford them.

That’s not fair. Cam meant the gesture, even if it’s lost on me.
Which led Aiden back to the thought that he’d have been okay if Sam had called before the performance to wish him luck.

A
IDEN arrived back in Philadelphia around noon the next day. Sam was folding clothes on top of the dryer and gave him a quick peck on the cheek when he rolled his suitcase into the bedroom. Aiden dropped the bag on a chair and lay back on the bed, kicking his shoes off and closing his eyes.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but he’d been too wound up—and too nervous about seeing Sam again the next day—to sleep much the night before. He awoke to Sam unpacking his things and setting his shoes in the closet.

“You don’t need to do that,” Aiden said. “I can put that away.” To call Sam a neat freak was an understatement. Not that Aiden was a slob, but he didn’t feel the need to put things away the second he got home, either.

“No problem.” Sam carried Aiden’s dirty clothes over to the washing machine. “I can toss these in the wash with my stuff. There weren’t enough whites to do a full load. Better for the environment.”

Aiden watched as Sam disappeared. He took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. There was no dust on the ceiling fan, he realized with another stab of guilt. Since they’d been living together, Aiden had yet to dust or vacuum. Not that he’d been “home” all that much. He hauled himself out of bed and joined Sam in the hallway, where the washer and dryer were normally hidden behind a louvered door. Sam was pouring detergent into the washing machine.

“Can I help fold?”
Sam looked a bit surprised but shrugged and said, “Sure.” “I always wanted to help my mom do the laundry,” Aiden

admitted as he took an undershirt from the basket and folded it neatly. “She wouldn’t let me. Said it was woman’s work. My first college roommate taught me. I think he got tired of how bad I smelled.”

Sam shook his head and chuckled. “We were supposed to wash our own, growing up. But we all wanted to do it on the weekend, so we’d trade off weeks. Then I washed one of my sisters’ white dresses with a red T-shirt. Savannah nearly strangled me. After that my mom ended up doing laundry for all of us.”

“Were you close to your sisters, growing up?”
“I guess. We’re probably closer now. We see each other a few times a year. Which reminds me,” Sam added quickly. “I usually go down to Memphis over Thanksgiving. I’d like you to come with me. Only if it’s okay with you, of course… I mean, I know you’re in town, but if you don’t want to—”
“I’d love to,” Aiden interrupted. It wasn’t true—it scared him half to death. Still, he knew how much Sam’s family meant to him, and he figured the “meet the in-laws” rite of passage wasn’t something he could avoid forever.
At least he
wants
me to meet them.
He figured that was a good thing.
Sam’s response was to take him in his arms and kiss him on the lips. “They’re good people.” Sam’s tone was reassuring, although Aiden sensed that Sam, too, was nervous about the prospect of introducing him to his family. “I’ve told them a little about you. My mom loves opera. I think she’s been telling the entire neighborhood about you.”
Aiden wasn’t sure this made him feel any better, but he said nothing, instead hugging Sam and pressing his lips to Sam’s neck.
It’ll be fine if he’s with me.
Sam turned back to the pile of socks in the laundry basket and grinned. But before Aiden could ask Sam what was so funny, Sam had taken a handful of unpaired socks and tossed them at Aiden. Taken by surprise, Aiden raised his hands and managed to catch several of them. Two others landed on the floor, and a third landed on Aiden’s head.
Aiden raised a quizzical eyebrow and bit the inside of his cheek. “You are so going to pay for that one, Samuel Ryan.”
“I don’t know. I think you look very sophisticated with a sock on your head.” The challenge in Sam’s eyes was obvious.
Aiden feinted right, pretending to aim for the basket full of socks. Sam moved to block him, but Aiden slipped around him on the other side, grabbed the basket, and proceeded to launch socks in Sam’s direction.
“You lied when you said you couldn’t play football.” Sam brushed one of the socks off his shoulder as another hit him square in the face.
“I’m multitalented.” Aiden threw three socks at once, but this time Sam was ready. He launched himself at Aiden’s waist, tackling him and pulling him down onto the carpet. The basket of socks tumbled out of Aiden’s hands and fell on top of them. Laughing harder than he could remember, Aiden pulled a sock off the floor and placed it over Sam’s eyes. Sam grabbed Aiden’s head and ignored the sock blindfold until he’d thoroughly kissed Aiden into submission.
“Okay! You win, you win!” Aiden’s words were punctuated by another kiss, this one rougher, more demanding than the last.
Sam reached down and pulled Aiden’s T-shirt over his head. “Need to wash this.” Sam held up the offending shirt with a smirk. “And we need to get you out of those sweats too. Really dirty.”
Aiden reached beneath his ass and held up a white sock. “Missed one.”
All thoughts of Memphis and Sam’s family vanished as Aiden helped Sam out of his clothes and they both walked naked through a trail of socks into the bedroom.

A woman dressed in a pin-striped suit poked her head out of one of the offices. “I’m here, Sammy. What’s up?”
“Judge Sheridan needs an order on our motion to compel. Gave me until after lunch to hand it up to him. He said he’ll let me inspect ShareCo’s documents in camera this afternoon.”
“No continuance?” Yvette Sarandon rolled her eyes. “Bastard. He really hates you, doesn’t he?”
“Yvette—”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know why he treats you like this. He may be a federal judge, but he’s still a homophobic, bigoted, pompous….” She took a deep breath.
Sam shrugged. “At least he’s letting me look at the documents. That’s an improvement. Tell the new intern—what’s her name, Sherri?—that I need her to tag along this afternoon. Make sure you give her the court library copy card. I’ll need her to make copies.”
“No problem. I’ll draft the order for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll need your eyes. Jim too, if he’s free.” Sam motioned to his assistant before he walked into his office. “Peggy, can you order us a few sandwiches? Looks like it’s going to be a long night. You don’t need to stay if you’ve got plans.”
“I can stay if you need me, Mr. Ryan,” Sam’s assistant said brightly. “I could use the OT, and Bob’s out of town, anyhow.”
“Thanks. And it’s Sam,” Sam corrected.
She just smiled back at him and shook her head, then picked up the phone.

S
AM left the courthouse around midnight, bleary-eyed from poring over documents. “Thanks again, guys,” he told Jim and Yvette. “We’ll regroup in the morning. Jury selection probably won’t happen next week, but we’ll need to prepare for trial, anyhow.” With what they’d discovered in their review of the defendant’s files, Sam guessed the case would be settling, and quickly.

By the time Sam finally made it back home, it was one in the morning. He hadn’t checked his cell until he walked in the door and thought about Aiden. He’d called when Sam had been eating.

He exhaled audibly, then tossed his jacket onto a chair, loosened his tie, and tapped the icon on his phone.
“Sam? Are you okay?” Aiden sounded half-asleep and very concerned.
“Oh, crap. I forgot about the time difference. I’m sorry. I woke you up, didn’t I?”
“S’okay. I was going to get up in an hour, anyhow. What the hell time is it there?”
“One. I just got back from court.”
“
Court?
At one in the morning?” Aiden yawned into the receiver.
“Long story.” Sam proceeded to tell Aiden about the attorney for the corporation Sam’s client had sued for sexual harassment and how Sam had finally gotten the judge to intervene to force the corporation to turn over documents it had been withholding. Throughout the long explanation, Aiden grunted in acknowledgment from time to time, although Sam was left with the distinct impression that Aiden wasn’t listening.
“How about you?” Sam figured he’d best change the topic before he lulled Aiden back to sleep.
“I’m good.”
Sam waited for Aiden to say more, but he yawned again. “Listen”—Sam cradled the phone between his chin and shoulder as he poured himself a scotch—“I should probably take a shower and head to bed. We have a conference in the morning with the judge.”
“Sure.” There was an uncomfortable pause before Aiden added, “Thanks for calling.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Sam set down the phone and leaned back on the couch, swirling the thick liquid around in the glass and watching the legs run down the sides. Damn, but he wished Aiden were here. Not that he’d have seen much of him, but the thought of climbing into bed alone wasn’t all that appealing. It wasn’t about the sex—not that he’d have turned down an offer to fuck Aiden into the sheets or vice versa—but he missed the companionship after a long day. It had been something he’d loved when he and Nick were together: falling asleep in each other’s arms.
He ran a hand through his hair and yawned, then kicked off his shoes and lay back on one of the pillows, feet dangling over the end of the couch. He awoke the next morning with the sunlight streaming in from the balcony and a crick in his neck, still fully dressed.

A
IDEN unwrapped his philly cheesesteak and inhaled the scent of onions and beef. “Smells amazing. Now if I can only figure out how to get the thing into my mouth without dribbling all over myself, life would be perfect.”

Sam laughed and looked back at him with that warm, fuzzy expression that made Aiden want to both hug him and rip his clothes off. They were standing at a wobbly metal table barely big enough to put their sandwiches on, their shoes touching on the rough concrete floor. However tempting the thought, though, Aiden figured he’d better hold on to it for now.

It was Saturday, and they’d gone sightseeing in downtown Philly, spending the morning at the Franklin Institute and then heading over to Ninth Street for lunch. Aiden had arrived the night before for a threeday layover—it was too short a visit to call it anything but—before he left for a three-week stint in LA as Iago in Verdi’s
Otello
.

Aiden had been struck by how tired Sam looked, but Sam reassured him that preparing for a big trial always wiped him out. Even the apartment, usually immaculate, was a bit less well-kept. For the first time since Aiden had moved in, Sam hadn’t put away his shoes the minute Aiden walked through the door. The place felt a lot more like home than it had on the last few visits.

“Still trying to get those documents?”
“I got most of them. At some point, it’s not worth fighting over. Just pisses the judges off, and I think we’ve got what we need.” Sam reached across the table and swiped a bit of dribble off Aiden’s chin with his thumb. The heat in Aiden’s cheeks was from a mix of embarrassment and the usual thrum of desire he felt when Sam touched him. “It’s good having you home.”
Aiden’s chest tightened with Sam’s words. “It’s good to be home.” And damn. It really was.