“Precisely,” Noah said, his expression and mind lighting up. “I assume Marcus loves the club as well, since he lives there now.”
“From what I have observed, he does,” Beckett said.
“So what we need to do is prove our devotion to the club. Perhaps we could encourage business or provide some sort of entertainment.”
Beckett looked inspired by the suggestion. He tapped his lips a few times—Noah noted that he had splendid lips, full and inviting—then froze as his eyes went wide.
“Graham and Alonzo have begun a tradition of holding balls at The Slope,” he said. “It began by accident this summer, but they’ve continued the practice.”
“So we encourage them to host another ball,” Noah said, picking up the idea.
“We could mimic Mrs. Livingston,” Beckett said, livelier than ever. “If she can host an All-Hallows’ Eve ball, then so could we.”
“A Halloween masquerade ball!” Noah shouted, then reigned himself in a bit. “Our sort love dressing up, so it would be the perfect combination of events.”
“It would,” Beckett said, clearly excited. “Do you think Graham would be impressed?”
“I’m certain he would, my friend.”
And Marcus would be impressed as well. He would see just how devoted Noah was, and he would leave that wet rag, Jasper Werther, and return to his arms, where he belonged. Noah was certain the plan would work.
ChapterFour
Somewhere in the last year of pining, longing, and eating his heart out, Beckett had forgotten that being in love and pursuing the object of his affection could be quite a bit of fun.
“Just approach him normally and tell him about our plan,” Noah whispered in his ear as the two of them sat at the far end of The Slope’s bar the next day. “It’s a brilliant plan. No man with any sense could resist it. No many with any sense could resistyou.”
Beckett grinned at his new friend, feeling as though Noah had lifted him up, and just at the point when he’d almost given Graham up as a hopeless cause.
“It’s all just a matter of selling the idea of a Halloween ball,” he said, rehashing the plan in his own mind as well as aloud. “I’m only suggesting it because I care so much about The Slope and its patrons, and because it’s a brilliant way to increase business, now that The Slide is closed.”
“Precisely,” Noah said, clapping a hand on Beckett’s shoulder and keeping it there.
The gesture brought the two of them into fairly close contact. Noah’s arm was all the way around his shoulders, and he leaned in, resting some of his weight on Beckett’s arm. Beckett found that he didn’t mind at all.
In the last twenty-four hours, Noah had proven himself to be a fantastic friend. He’d charmed Aurora and their father, he’d been helpful around the house as Beckett had sought to tidy a few things to accommodate Noah’s arrival, and when Beckett insisted that they go out to purchase new clothing for Noah, since the small amount Noah had brought with him needed laundering and a few repairs, after only a small protest, Noah let Beckett treat him.
Their trip to Saville Row had been hilarious, since Noah had insisted on pretending he was a titled gentleman from London instead of just a member of the respectable middle class. He could affect the perfect aristocratic accent, and he had the mannerisms down pat. The staff of Beckett’s favorite tailor’s shop had fallen all over themselves to help the two of them.
After ordering three suits, they’d headed across town to Bloomingdales to purchase a ready-made suit and a few shirts. Somehow Noah had also finagled him into making a visit to ladies’ lingerie and actually purchasing a few unmentionable items under the pretense that they were for his wife as an anniversary gift. It just so happened that his wife was roughly his own size.
He and Noah both wore the ridiculous, frilly underthings as they sat at The Slope’s bar. Beckett could have been embarrassed by the lark, but he had a reasonable hunch that he and Noah weren’t the only men in the establishment with silk and lace against their skin.
Beckett hadn’t laughed as much in a year as he’d laughed in the last twenty-four hours with Noah. Noah was excellent company. He had no idea why Marcus had abandoned the poor man in his hour of need.
“I’m a bit concerned about that look on Graham’s face,” he whispered to Noah as they watched the object of his affection busy himself at the other end of the bar. “He doesn’t appear to be in the best of moods this afternoon.”
“Then everything you have to say will cheer him up,” Noah insisted, squeezing his arm. “What business owner could resist a guaranteed plan to bring in custom?”
Beckett made a non-committal sound. “It’s just that I haven’t had much luck catching his eye when he’s worn that sort of frown in the past.” He glanced to Noah, leaning closer so he wouldn’t have to admit the truth aloud. “If I’m being honest, that’s the scowl he wears when he knows I’m watching him and talking about him. I think he’s on to us.”
“All the better,” Noah said, patting his back. “He’s aware of you. He’s paying attention to you on some level. It will be the easiest thing in the world to turn his head and win him back into your arms, and your bed.”
Noah winked at him, then wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Beckett laugh.
“Alright, alright,” Beckett said, slipping off the bar stool and clearing his throat. “I’ll do it. Your encouragement has put wind in my sails.”
“Good man,” Noah said, patting Beckett’s back again. In the back of Beckett’s mind, he noted that Noah was quite tactile. “Now, go get your man,” he whispered, giving Beckett a slight push.