Ace-High Royal Flush Page 6

  I slipped through the living room, across to the short hallway that led to the bathroom and the master bedroom. Then I launched myself at the man who was rifling through my dresser drawers with a loud “Hi yah!”

  “Wha…?”

  I landed on his back before he could spin around, slid an arm around his throat, and growled in his ear, “You’d better have a damned good reason for being in my apartment.”

  He scrabbled at my arm, and I eased off enough on my hold so he could talk.

  “I…I didn’t realize I needed to ask permission.”

  “Ludo? What the fuck?” I’d never seen him dressed so casually, in slacks and a polo shirt, which was probably why I hadn’t realized it was him.

  “I also thought you were going to be away for the entire week.”

  “Uh…” I’d told him there was a convention out in San Francisco. Father always used that as an excuse when he wanted to get away. “It…it was cut short.”

  “Don’t treat my intelligence so contemptuously, Sebring.”

  I felt myself turn pale. Ludo never addressed me by my last name. “Why are you here?” I hadn’t given him a key, but he knew where I kept a spare.

  “I needed the clothes I keep here.”

  “Are you leaving me?”

  “I’m tired of wasting my time. I’ll never be your one, and I’ve had enough.”

  “No, wait.”

  He threw an unfriendly look in my direction and picked up a small duffel I hadn’t even seen beside the bed. Without another word, he stalked toward the door.

  I bounded forward. I wasn’t going to let him leave until I explained…until I apologized…until I convinced him to stay with me.

  I pushed the door shut, and he snarled, “Goddamn it, Jefferson. Get out of my way before I do you a violence.”

  He yanked the door open, and it hit me in the face. I recoiled, tripped over my own feet, and abruptly found myself on my ass. Blood dripped from my broken nose…oh, yes, I had no doubt it was broken.

  “Jefferson! Oh my God, Jefferson!” Ludo knelt beside me, his duffel forgotten. “I’m so sorry. How bad is it?”

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I slumped bonelessly to the floor, hitting the back of my head. I uttered a moan that wasn’t entirely feigned.

  “Sweetheart, please tell me you’re all right.” He never used pet names, and I started to feel a glimmer of hope that he might care for me enough to forgive my stupidity.

  I opened my mouth to plead with him not to leave and then started to choke as blood ran down the back of my throat. “Son of a bitch.” I turned my head and spat out a mouthful of blood.

  Ludo fumbled through his pockets. “Sorry, Jefferson. I seem to have neglected to bring a handker—ah, you’ve got one.” He reached into my pocket to pull out a handkerchief. “Oh.” His hand had come into contact with my erect cock.

  I peeled open an eyelid and watched him cautiously.

  “You’re happy to see me.” He gently pressed the handkerchief against my nose.

  “Ow.”

  “I’m sorry, love.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I’ve been such a fool.”

  “Well, yes, you have.” Ludo twisted his fingers together and observed me thoughtfully. “I know I’m not your one—”

  “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned that. Who the fuck told you about it?”

  He flinched, and I swore under my breath.

  “I’m sorry, angel eyes. We’re good together—we can be happy together. Please give me a chance?”

  “Just remember that from this point on, I’m the only one you call angel eyes.” He ran his hand over my cheek, gazed into my eyes for a moment, and then leaned in and kissed me.

  If he wasn’t my one, he was coming damned close to being it.

  * * * *

  In spite of everything, I’d never considered how oblivious I could be.

  The eye-opener came in 1978, when an Air India jet out of Bombay exploded, resulting in the deaths of the two hundred thirteen people on board.

  Included in that number was Portia’s husband Nigel.

  I’d clung to Ludo, terrified for the first time in my life. I could just as easily lose him, and that was when I realized he was my one.

  I would have married him, but nowhere on earth was it legal for two men to exchange vows. Or two women, if it came to that.

  Ludo and I did exchange rings, however, silver bands we wore on the middle finger of our left hands. To the outside world they meant nothing, but to us they meant everything.

  Chapter 10

  We’d celebrated the last evening of 2012 with a glass of champagne, but we hadn’t stayed up to watch the ball drop at midnight. January 1 was going to be a big day for us, and we’d decided to make an early night of it.

  Before we went to bed, we checked the living room at the back of the sprawling house where my brothers and sister and I had grown up. The furniture had been replaced with rows of folding chairs decorated with white streamers. Tomorrow, each chair would have a flower holder bearing a white rose tipped with coral. Tomorrow, before the ceremony, the florist who brought those roses would also bring flowers of every variety and color to be placed in the vases waiting for them. Ludo chose them so when their mingled scents filled the room, it would be the epitome of romance.

  My angel eyes did tend to have a romantic streak.

  As soon as the ceremony was over, the waiters and waitresses we’d hired to help Mrs. Plum and her husband to serve our guests would set up platters of food.

  It was going to be an intimate occasion. The number of guests attending wouldn’t touch on the multitude who’d been at Portia’s wedding, or even at Bryan’s, when he’d married in 1965; there were still people who disapproved of two men loving and marrying each other, but as far as I was concerned, they could all go to hell. The people who were most important to us would be with us: Ludo’s sisters and their families had flown over and were staying with us; Tony and Bryan had flown in from LA and were staying at Portia’s house in Great Falls. They’d be driving to Shadow Brook with Portia and Gregor. Quinn and Mark and their children—Joe and the twins, Clayton and Porter—would also drive out to the farm.

  Friends and colleagues had been invited as well, although I’d been surprised when Bart Freeman strolled in. He stepped up to me and enveloped me in a massive hug, pounding me on the back and nearly driving me to the floor.

  “I invited him, sweetheart,” Ludo whispered as he stepped forward to shake Bart’s hand.

  Bart gave him a lopsided grin, then asked to use the loo.

  I turned to Ludo once Bart had left the room. “Why? I mean, I’m glad to see him, but I thought you had no use for him.” Which was why I hadn’t invited him.

  “I don’t, not really, but he brought you back to me.”

  “That’s kind of you, angel eyes.” I squeezed his hand. In 1980, I’d been sent on a mission to Chechnya, and for the first time in my experience, a mission I’d been running had gone south with a vengeance. I’d been taken captive by Chechen rebels, somehow managed to convince them I was simply an Australian who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, which surprised me—I was never good with accents. Fortunately Bart showed up and got me out of there before they could beat me worse than they had.

  Ludo rubbed his cheek against my shoulder. “Don’t think I’m being entirely altruistic. I couldn’t help but want to rub Bart’s nose in the fact that I have you and he doesn’t.”

  Epilogue

  The door to our master bedroom opened, and Ludo sauntered in. “Time to get dressed, sweetheart. Our guests have finished breakfast, and the family will be here before we know it.”

  I held out my hand, and he took it, probably thinking to pull me to my feet. Instead, I pulled him down into my arms and brushed my lips over his.

  “I love kissing you, angel eyes.”

  He hummed in pleasure as I deepened the kiss, and he ran his palms over my hair.

  “I love yo
u,” I told him. “I’m so glad you’re marrying me.”

  Ludo’s gray eyes were bright with unshed tears. “You’ve made me so happy. I can’t begin to tell you how happy.”

  We’d have to get dressed, but for the moment, I was content to hold him like this.

  The thing about Sebrings was they were supposed to love just once. If they found their one, they considered it a blessing. If they didn’t, they referred to it as a curse. Father, Tony, Bryan—they were all unlucky in that, but…

  Portia had found Nigel.

  Quinton had found Mark.

  As for me…I’d simply thought it was best to enjoy what was offered and not question fate.

  But fate had turned the tables on me, and now, hours before our wedding, I sat here, not only holding Ludo in my arms, but holding the ace-high royal flush fate had dealt me.

  THE END

  ABOUT TINNEAN

  Tinnean has been writing since the 3rd grade, where she was inspired to try her hand at epic poetry. Fortunately, that epic poem didn’t survive the passage of time; however, her love of writing not only survived but thrived, and in high school she became a member of the magazine staff, where she contributed a number of stories.

  Starting a family resulted in the writing being set aside, although throughout those years Tinnean did continue to keep a journal. Once the kids were old enough to do their own thing, she was able to dabble in writing again. It was with the advent of the family’s second computer—the first intimidated everyone—that her writing took off, enhanced in part by fan fiction, but mostly by the wonder that is copy and paste.

  While involved in fandom, she was nominated for both Rerun and Light My Fire Awards. Now she concentrates on her original characters and has been published by Nazca Plains, Dreamspinner, and JMS Books.

  Tinnean is what you might call a hopeful romantic, and if you see her name on a story, it will have a happy ending.

  Her signature line, a quote by Ernest Hemingway, says it all: “Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure, only death can stop it.”

  A New Yorker at heart, she resides in southwest Florida with her husband and two computers.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!