Chapter Eleven

Julian

"T here he is!" Aunt Lulu declared loudly as we stepped into the drawing room.

I turned to see what celebrity had walked up behind me, but the hallway was empty. I watched in horror as the gathering migrated toward Christopher and me, murmuring things like "It's about time" or "Now the party can start." How many predinner drinks had we missed out on, and since when did I warrant the rock-star treatment?

Then I recalled the stunning man standing beside me in a navy suit and crisp white shirt. I snorted internally. Remembered? Yeah, right. As if I could forget a single thing we'd shared or said since arriving at my parents' house. We'd crashed hard after our shared orgasm and slept well into the cocktail hour before I woke in a panic, which meant I hadn't processed the things we'd said or done in our rush to get cleaned up and walk to the main house. This fanfare wasn't for me; it was for my date. Unlike the attention Thad had garnered from my folks, I enjoyed watching my mom and sister fuss over Christopher until they both tried to hook their arms through his and lead him away. He'd left his sling at the pool house and assured me he was fine without it for a few hours, but he probably hadn't counted on Mom or Jorja latching onto his bad arm.

"Not so fast, you hussies," I called out. "I'll make the introductions." I looked over at my dad, who looked sun-kissed and very happy. He'd worn his favorite Hugo Boss suit, and like Christopher, he'd skipped the tie and wore his dress shirt open at the throat. He'd styled his light brown hair in the same quiff he'd always worn. Jorja and I used to tease him mercilessly about it until the style came back into fashion and we were forced to eat crow. Dad had texted a photo of himself next to a headshot of Eugene Levy taken during the height of Schitt's Creek fame. The caption read: Who Wore it Better? My sister had pleaded the fifth, but I reluctantly admitted that my old man rocked the look best. Dad's gaze met mine, and his eyes twinkled with humor. He seemed charmed by Mom and Jorja's antics.

"You better watch your wife," I warned him. "She's out of control."

Dad's smile turned wry, and he shook his head. He reached for my mom and pulled her into his arms. "I'm not worried about some young guy stealing my woman from under me."

Before I could point out Christopher wasn't the one who needed watching, Mom giggled and carded her fingers through the gray hair at Dad's temples. She pressed her lips to his for a quick kiss. And just like that, I suspected the rest of the room faded into oblivion for them. I'd shared a similar moment with Christopher a few times and recalled what an exhilarating and dizzying experience it was. My temperature soared as I remembered Christopher's face as he'd found release with me in the pool house. I would've fanned my face, but I didn't want to relinquish Christopher's hand. His solid presence kept me tethered and grounded when the memory made me want to float away like a feather in the wind.

"There's my boy!" Aunt Lulu called out seconds before she squeezed me in a shockingly tight hug. I released Christopher to return her embrace, albeit more gently. She smelled like Chanel and the peppermint candies she'd favored for as long as I could remember. The combination of fragrances reminded me of summers in Savannah, learning how to sew—first by hand and later on a machine—at Lulu's house. "Judging by your flushed cheeks," she said, "I can guess why the two of you are late."

"Aunt Lulu," I groaned as I pulled back. "Behave."

"Never," she vowed. "Introduce me to the man who's made you blush."

I sighed deeply and introduced two of my favorite people to one another. They launched into a harmonious conversation as if they'd been friends for a long time.

Lulu turned to face me suddenly with a broad smile on her face. "I like him."

Christopher chuckled. "And I adore her."

Lulu pursed her lips and patted her coiffed white hair. "If you were a few decades older…"

I hugged her once more and whispered, "I love you so much."

She laughed and patted my back. "I love you too."

I stepped back and studied her pink pantsuit. "Pretty sure Dorothy wore a similar outfit on The Golden Girls ," I said.

"This is nothing like the satiny monstrosity Dorothy wore," Lulu said. "I know damn well I taught you how to recognize fabric better than that. I should take you over my knee. You're not too big, you know."

Christopher leaned forward and quietly said, "I told him the same thing recently, but he just told me not to threaten him with a good time."

Lulu placed a hand over her chest, and at first, I thought Christopher had triggered a heart attack. But she tilted her head back and emitted the most raucous laugh I'd ever heard. Every head in the room swiveled our way. I didn't need to look around to confirm my suspicion because I felt their attention. Once she stopped cackling, she cupped Christopher's face and kissed both of his cheeks. It was a move she reserved for those she held closest to her heart. Everyone in the room recognized the symbolic gesture for what it was—hearty approval. And if that wasn't enough, she glanced around the room and said, " This one is a keeper."

I looked around the gathering to gauge the reaction. Mom, Dad, Otto, and Jorja seemed deliriously happy. Tyler looked utterly charmed by my aunt, and I wondered about their prior interactions. Thad looked like he'd swallowed something sour, and his parents, Mark and Debbie, offered tense smiles. Aunt Tallulah had inadvertently, or possibly quite intentionally, insulted their son.

Christopher settled his left hand at the small of my back, and I leaned into his warmth.

Dad stepped forward, extended his hand, and said, "My turn to meet the man who's won the heart of everyone I hold near and dear."

"Christopher Carnegie," he said with a warm smile as he shook my father's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Julian speaks very highly of you."

Dad smiled warmly at me. "Well, I'm very proud of my son too."

He couldn't know just how much those words meant to me. My parents had looked so disappointed when I'd announced I was moving to Savannah. At the time, I'd thought they were frustrated that I'd broken up with Thad and had given up on my dream to become a fashion designer. I was starting to realize I'd misread the situation, as Jorja had always claimed, and that my parents had been disappointed for me, not in me. If the Carnegies were the glue that pieced me back together, this epiphany acted as a glossy glaze that made me shine again. The coating wouldn't erase the cracks from my previous damage; it would emphasize them and demonstrate that flawed things could be beautiful.

"Thanks, Dad," I said, my voice thick with emotion.

My father winked, then gestured for Jorja's fiancé, Otto Fortner, to join them. Dad met Otto, a financier, through a business venture and was so impressed he introduced the man to his only daughter. Jorja had been hell-bent on hating Otto on sight but fell madly in love with the dark-haired, dark-eyed man. He was brilliant, funny, kind, and head over heels for her. It was easy to see why my sister loved the man so much.

Otto and Christopher exchanged easy hellos, then Otto introduced his parents, Manuel and Zennie. They were as gregarious and charming as their son and greeted Christopher warmly.

Manuel narrowed his eyes and tapped a long, slender finger against his chin. "You look familiar to me."

"He's been on the news a lot because he solved a homicide cold case involving an elderly woman," Zennie said. She smiled at Christopher and added, "I think someone started a dashing detective hashtag in your honor."

"Darling detective," my mom called out.

"That's it," Zennie said.

Manuel shook his head. "No, that's not it."

"Honey," Zennie said softly, "you don't even know what a hashtag is."

Manuel chuckled. "You're right about that. I'm not disputing the darling or dashing thing. I know Christopher from someplace else. I just can't put my finger on it."

"Hope it wasn't one of his undercover assignments," I teased. "You'd have some serious explaining to do."

Manuel and Zennie laughed and moved on so the Arisens could meet Christopher. Manuel kept glancing over at him, and I could tell he was still trying to place where he recognized him from.

Mark and Debbie were both gracious when they shook Christopher's hand. Mark narrowed his eyes and said, "I agree with Manuel. I recognize you from somewhere besides the cop stuff."

Christopher chuckled. "Perhaps you do."

Manuel turned back around. "Thanks, Mark. Care to give us a hint, son?" he asked Christopher.

"Nope."

"Did it involve nudity?" Lulu asked.

"Nope," Christopher repeated.

Lulu snapped her fingers. "Damn."

"A reality show?" Mom guessed.

"Kind of," Topher replied.

"All right," Dad said. "Let him be. We don't want to scare him off."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," Christopher said firmly. I noticed he was looking at Thad when he said it. My ex had just stepped up with Tyler after his parents stepped aside. Christopher greeted Thad with a nod, then shifted his gaze to the right. "It's good to see you again, Tyler."

"Again?" Thad asked snidely, looking between Christopher and Tyler. He settled his gaze on his boyfriend, who blushed. "How do you know each other?"

"I met Christopher and Julian this afternoon when they arrived."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Thad asked.

Tyler frowned. "Tell you what exactly? I encountered them when I went out to the pool to read a book and enjoy a cup of tea. I don't think it's unusual for me to run into them, considering this is Julian's home."

"Of course it's not," Thad said with an awkward chuckle. "I'm just surprised you didn't mention it."

Tyler narrowed his eyes. "Like you always account for every minute of your day while we're apart."

Thad stiffened and cupped Tyler's elbow before meeting my gaze. "I'll catch up with you in a bit, Julian," he said and guided Tyler out of the drawing room for what I guessed would be a very spirited argument in private.

A tense silence fell over the room once Thad and Tyler exited. Christopher's fingers flexed against my lower back, and I wanted to believe it was an act of possessiveness and not muscle spasms in his injured arm. Conversations resumed around the room, tentatively at first but loosened up the longer Thad and Tyler stayed gone. Debbie glanced toward the doorway a few times before returning her focus to the conversation. She didn't relax until Thad and Tyler came back.

At first glance, the couple looked no worse for wear, but a closer perusal showed tense body language, and I could almost feel a nip in the air. The few inches separating them might as well have been a gorge. I'd heard from Jorja that Debbie was pushing hard for Thad to propose to Tyler, but I didn't think their relationship was long for this world.

Luckily, Mom announced dinner was ready and led us to the formal dining room.

Once everyone had food, conversation resumed around the table with most of it centering on Christopher. Everyone seemed genuinely interested in hearing about his career and the cases that interested him most. Thad had tried to hijack the conversation a few times, but it always seemed to return to Christopher, who seemed unfazed by the attention. Then again, someone as humble as Christopher wouldn't let it go to his head. His humility and modesty were the things I admired most about him.

"Maybe we should let Christopher eat," I suggested. He'd asked about the silverware again during the walk to the main house, but he'd barely had time to put his knowledge to good use with all the chitchat.

"A body that big would need fuel," Lulu said. "You've got the shoulders of a linebacker."

I braced myself for her to make a bawdy remark about what those broad shoulders could be used for, but Manuel slapped his hand on the table at the same time Mark yelled, "Aha!"

"You played linebacker for the Georgia Bulldogs," Manuel said. "That's where I recognize you from."

"Yes, sir," Christopher said.

"But you didn't go by Christopher," Mark added. He narrowed his eyes. "I can't think of what it was, though. A middle name or something?"

"No, sir. I went by my nickname, Topher."

"That's it!" Manuel and Mark said.

"You were a beast on the field," Manuel said.

"Bet that's not the only place," Aunt Lulu added, then winked at me. I bit my lip to keep from laughing while Mom softly admonished her.

"You set the school record for sacks and tackles in that position," Manuel continued as if he hadn't heard Lulu's lewd comment.

"He still holds them," Mark added.

"Yeah, but Bix Miller is breathing down my neck. If he stays healthy next year, he'll catch me. He's a good kid, so I hope it happens for him."

Thad cast a suspicious look at Christopher. "You actually want someone else to break the school records you set?"

"Yeah, I do," Christopher replied.

Thad shook his head but left it alone.

"I never understood why you weren't drafted," Mark said. "Oh, wait. You had a bad shoulder injury, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir. I had surgery after my senior season, and I was still recovering during the scouting combines. But truthfully, I had different dreams in mind and didn't enter the draft."

"Do you mean your career in law enforcement?" Dad asked.

"Yes, sir," Christopher said. "After earning my criminal justice degree, I applied to the police academy. Served my time as a beat cop before getting promoted to detective."

"That's very admirable, Christopher," Dad said before looking at me. "Julian, how do you like instructing at SCAD?"

"It's only been a few weeks, but I love it. The students are great, and they've embraced their semester project with gusto."

"Tell me about the project," Dad said earnestly.

I gave him a quick rundown of the rules the students must follow before telling them about some of the individual projects the students chose. I was really pleased when the topic caught on and several guests joined the conversation. Christopher squeezed my knee then shifted his hand higher to rest on my thigh.

"And Dad," I said, "Jorja told me about the green initiatives you've implemented at the office. I'm really proud of you."

Dad smiled warmly. "Your passion for the environment is contagious, though I still have a lot to learn."

Going green was not only difficult but outrageously expensive, so we discussed other small ways the company could lessen their carbon footprint. I expected the guests to tune out, but I was surprised how many remained interested.

"My boy is passionate about climate change," Mom said.

"I think your boy is passionate about Christopher," Lulu countered.

Christopher lifted his glass of wine and toasted her. "He can multitask like no one's business."

When the conversation shifted once again, Topher inched his hand a little higher until the tip of his pinky rubbed against my balls. It was a damn good thing I wasn't eating or drinking, or I would've choked to death. I looked at him with an expression that hopefully conveyed the revenge I planned to eke out on his sexy body later. His smile said, "Bring it on."