“I feel as though I should be doing something,” he told Beckett with great passion as they sat across the breakfast table from each other two days after Halloween. He fiddled with his fork, poking it at his egg to make the yolk run, and bobbed his leg under the table. “I cannot simply be your guest interminably.”
“I quite agree,” Beckett said with a warm smile. “And I’ve been thinking about it quite a lot.”
Noah focused his restless gaze on his friend for a moment. “You have?”
“Yes,” Beckett nodded.
The light of whatever mischief he had in mind made his dark eyes sparkle and a rosy glow come to his complexion. It also made Noah’s insides feel funny. His cock seemed to take notice of how beautiful Beckett was, but Noah put that down to having gone months without any sort of sexual release at all.
“I spoke to Father about it yesterday,” Beckett continued, looking as though he were about to stage some sort of coup, “and he agreed that you should come work at the glassworks.”
“At the glassworks?” More strange feelings filled Noah’s chest. “Yourglassworks?”
“Well, my father’s, really,” Beckett said, mopping up the last of the egg on his plate with a corner of toast.
“The one where you work?” Noah asked on, unable to believe the depth of kindness Beckett was offering him.
“The very one,” Beckett answered with a teasing smile. “I assume that you can read and write. As my position is one as Father’s social secretary, we could start with you working under me.”
Something about those words sent a sudden whoosh of need through Noah that had his body responding eagerly. His insides heated, and his cock became even more interested.
“We could start with simple, easy, clerical tasks,” Beckett went on after a sip of coffee. “Perhaps sorting mail or delivering correspondences. Father tells me he has a great deal of old correspondence and several invoices and receipts that he needs filed. Is that the sort of thing you would be interested in to earn your daily bread?” Beckett’s smile was so filled with hope, but when he rushed to add, “Not that I require you to earn anything, mind you. I just think you would be happier with some sort of employment.” Noah nearly melted with the sweetness of his expression.
“I…I would love that,” Noah said, smiling cautiously in return.
His heart thundered against his ribs. Blood pulsed through him, warming him inside. He was seized by the mad desire to stand up, sweep everything from the table, and crawl across it so that he could grasp his friend in his arms and kiss him until they were both breathless.
Yes, it had been far too long since he’d been in anyone’s bed other than his own.
Actually, that wasn’t true. He’d woken up in Beckett’s bed just the morning before, and it had been…wonderful.
He shook his head at the traitorous thought. His heart was for one man and one man alone. It had simply been too, too long since he had indulged in the pleasures of the flesh. His body needed one thing, but that did not touch his heart.
“I should probably ask Marcus first,” he said as he piled the last of his eggs on his fork. “About the job,” he added quickly and with a touch of alarm. He absolutely did not mean that he should ask Marcus’s permission to go to bed with Beckett. That wasn’t what he wanted at all.
Except that the very idea of it made him breathless.
Beckett blinked across the table at him as Gardener came into the room to take their plates away. “You want to ask Marcus’s permission to work?”
“Yes,” Noah said in a rush, wiping his mouth with his napkin, then setting it on the plate. “It seems only right, don’t you think?” He didn’t wait for Beckett’s answer before hurrying on to, “Isn’t it strange to have your butler clear the breakfast table? Shouldn’t that be a footman’s job?”
Beckett eyed Noah strangely for a moment before they both stood.
“It’s a bit catch as catch can in this bachelor’s household,” Beckett said with a smile, coming around the table. “I’ve only Gardener and Miss Taylor working for me, and since I rarely host any sort of parties or grand events, they aren’t even needed all the time.”
“No, I suppose not,” Noah said.
He drew in a breath as he and Beckett came within touching distance as they headed on to the parlor. He breathed in Beckett’s bay scent and nearly groaned. It didn’t matter that the two of them shared toiletries and shaving soap these days, the familiar scent was absolutely delicious wafting from Beckett.
“We could visit the glassworks today,” Beckett went on. “Father has been extraordinarily lenient with me when it comes to keeping odd hours, but I really should get back into the habit of being at the office during business hours.”
“Yes, of course,” Noah said. “I’ll accompany you.” And since that thought—not to mention the brush of his hand against Beckett’s as the two of them swayed too close to each other—didn’t feel right, he hurriedly added, “And this evening, we can pop by The Slippery Slope so that I might consult with my love to see whether he approves of my employment.”
Beckett gave him a momentarily pained look, but he quickly shifted his expression back to his usual smile. He also took Noah’s hand and squeezed it as he said, “Yes, of course.”
Noah nearly sighed with disappointment when Beckett let his hand go. Which wasn’t right. His emotions felt as though they were starting to spiral out of control.
No, he was still in control. It was merely a physical reaction to months of denial. He was still true to Marcus in his heart, where it really counted.