Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

There was nothing like getting laid to set the world right. Toby was not too proud to admit that on particularly bad days in the past, he'd headed out to certain clubs after work to get a little dose of just what the doctor ordered to make all the bad things go away.

The difference with Robbie was that when they were both done and rested, he had no desire to leave and get on with his life. After sharing a shower with Robbie, one that had almost landed them right back in bed again, he'd dressed in his business suit, then headed back down into the heart of the house to see what sort of progress Mr. Hawthorne was making on sorting through the aftermath of turning down Willoughby Entertainment's deal.

Robbie pretended that nothing was wrong as he went back to his ceramics studio to get a little of his own work done before the evening class. They tried to play it cool, hoping no one would guess what they'd been up to for two hours in Robbie's flat, but judging by the look Mr. Hawthorne gave Toby when he caught up with him in the office, the activities of the afternoon weren't a secret at all.

It wasn't just the afternoon either. Once things were sorted with Mr. Hawthorne and Toby was tasked with reporting to the entire family in the morning about the Silver Productions deal, Toby headed home to change, and to pack a small overnight bag before heading back to Hawthorne House.

He spent the night with Robbie, catching up on everything they'd missed out on by being so drunk in Staffordshire. Toby was thrilled to discover Robbie was also on PrEP, and that he, too, was vers. It made for an invigorating night of what basically amounted to sex wrestling as both of them tried to get the upper hand.

In the end, they'd both capitulated at one point or another, and when morning finally came, Toby greeted it in Robbie's arms, sore in fun places, muscles aching.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Robbie said in a groggy voice as Toby stretched himself fully awake and flipped to a more comfortable position on his back.

"What wasn't supposed to happen?" Toby said on a yawn, welcoming Robbie into his arms.

He hummed deep in his throat and closed his eyes as Robbie played with one of his nipple piercings.

"Us," Robbie said. "We're supposed to hate each other."

Toby laughed, liking the way it felt both inside and outside. "Maybe I do still hate you," he said, throwing one arm behind his head and rubbing his fingers through Robbie's hair with the other as Robbie snuggled against him.

"You do not," Robbie said, tugging his piercing a little.

Toby sucked in a breath, then let it out on a laugh. He heard far more genuine fear in Robbie's voice than he wanted to. He was no psychological expert, but it was clear as day to him that Robbie had self-esteem issues.

Which was complete bollocks, as far as he was concerned. Robbie was passionate, kind, and gorgeous. Whoever had knocked his self-esteem down deserved a sharp-toed boot up the backside.

"Maybe this is all a ploy," he said, grinning as he continued his teasing. "Maybe fucking you was my way of getting the best of you."

Robbie lifted himself up on one arm to smirk down at him. "I think you will recall that my dick was firmly and deeply up your arse at one point last night."

Toby grinned up at him and shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe it's all part of my master plan."

Robbie laughed and shook his head, then rolled to the side. "Well, my master plan is to take a shower, eat some breakfast, then head down to the studio to get some work done before the family meeting."

He climbed out of bed, giving Toby a delicious look at his entire, flushed and beautiful, naked body. After the night they'd just spent, he felt like he was getting to know every part of that body. He'd learned a thing or two about where Robbie held his tension and where he was ticklish. He adored Robbie's taste and his musky sex scent. Basically, his feelings towards last week's bitter enemy were as far from hatred as could be.

"I'll get breakfast started while you shower, then we can switch," he said, climbing out of bed himself, then turning to stare at the sheets.

"We'll wash them," Robbie said, coming up behind him and kissing Toby's shoulder. "And you won't have to do much with breakfast. I bought a thing of croissants yesterday. They're out on the counter."

He kissed Toby's shoulder again, then cupped his arse, sliding his fingers between Toby's cheeks to poke at his sore hole for a second before heading off to the bathroom.

Toby smiled as he stripped the bed, then borrowed Robbie's robe to leave the bedroom and get tea started. He'd only ever been in one relationship in the past where he'd had domestic sleepovers. It had been nice while it'd lasted, but it wasn't anything compared to the feeling of rightness he had puttering around Robbie's flat.

The morning continued to be sweet and comfortable once they'd both showered and had breakfast. Toby dressed in the suit he'd brought with him, but kept the jacket and tie off once they were done with breakfast and wandered down to the ceramics studio. He wouldn't need to be fully dressed up until he headed into the office after his meeting with the Hawthorne family, and the family didn't much care how he was dressed.

"Looks like the office is having computer trouble this morning," he said as he sat against one of the tables in Robbie's studio, watching him set up his wheel. "I'm getting an error message when I try to log in."

"Do you need to head into London instead of attending our meeting?" Robbie asked over his shoulder as he wedged a lump of clay.

"Nah," Toby said, setting his phone aside. "I'll call after nine and let them know what's going on."

Robbie smiled and continued wedging his clay. When he had it the way he wanted it, he crossed to the wheel, gesturing for Toby to come with him.

"What?" Toby asked, following curiously.

Robbie scooted his stool farther from the wheel than he usually kept it and motioned for Toby to come sit down with him. "I'm going to teach you how to throw a pot," he said.

Toby laughed, stopping just short of sitting with Robbie. "I'm hardly dressed for it."

"You won't get that dirty," Robbie said. "I'll keep things clean." He wiggled his eyebrows, like he meant those words in their other definition.

Toby snorted and shook his head, pretending he thought the whole thing was silly. But that didn't stop him from sighing and shifting to sit on the edge of the stool in front of Robbie.

"First you have to center the clay," Robbie said.

He slammed the ball of clay down on the pottery wheel, scooped some water onto it, then turned on the wheel with his foot.

"Now, give me your hands."

Toby couldn't keep the grin off his face as Robbie wrapped his strong arms all the way around him, holding his hands from the back and bringing them to the wet, spinning ball of clay.

"You need to keep your hands moist so there isn't too much drag on the clay."

He took some of the water from the small bucket beside the wheel and wet Toby's hands. The cool splash contrasted with the warmth of Robbie's hands and his body all around his sent a shiver through Toby that centered in his balls.

"Keep your arms braced, and focus on the clay and keep your pressure even."

Toby nodded, following the tension in Robbie's body as he basically let his hands be used as instruments for Robbie to do what he knew best.

Surprisingly, Toby could feel the difference in the way the clay felt once the small lump was centered in the middle of the wheel. It was almost zen how completely it all seemed to click together.

"Now cone the clay up and flatten it to complete the process," Robbie went on, leaning so close to Toby's neck that it was all Toby could do to concentrate on anything other than his growing erection.

All of that burst to pieces a moment later, as Robbie threaded his fingers through Toby's to bring the lump of clay up into a small tower, all while singing, "Oh, my love, my darling, I hunger for your touch."

Toby snorted with laughter, going limp in Robbie's arms as their reenactment of that scene from Ghost fell apart.

"Oy, I'm not Demi Moore," he laughed, jerking one elbow back.

Robbie laughed along with him, and in an over the top, fey voice said, "Maybe I'm Demi Moore."

Toby leaned back into him, laughing and feeling lighter than he had in ages. He shook his hands, then wiped them on Robbie's jean-clad legs on either side of him. Then he pushed himself to stand.

Instead of walking away, though, he turned around and sat back down again, facing Robbie and straddling his spread thighs.

"This is more like it," he said, resting his arms over Robbie's shoulders. "Let's center this way."

He leaned in and captured Robbie's mouth in a kiss that was designed to send his mind spinning instead of the pottery wheel. It worked, and Robbie took his foot off the wheel and slipped his arms around Toby's waist to kiss him in return.

They were still tangled up in each other, dripping clay water where they shouldn't, sucking each other's faces, when Nally stepped into the studio and said, "Whoa! I didn't realize I was interrupting something here."

Toby and Robbie broke apart, and Robbie twisted to frown at his younger brother, face flushed.

"You are definitely interrupting," he told him.

Nally held up his hands in apology, but stepped deeper into the room instead of backing out. "Sorry, sorry, but Dad was just wondering where you were and why you weren't answering your phone."

Toby glanced to the table, where both his and Robbie's phones lay abandoned. With a sigh, he got up and moved away from Robbie, hoping Nally wouldn't notice the bulge in his trousers.

"Dad wants to get the meeting started, because he knows you and Rhys have classes to teach this morning," Nally went on. "So get a wiggle on." He started out of the room, then turned back and said, "Unless that's what you were already trying to do."

Robbie frowned at him, and Nally left the room, laughing loudly.

"I didn't realize how much time had passed," Robbie said, getting up and heading for the sink.

Toby followed him, and with a minimal amount of teasing and stolen kisses, they managed to clean themselves up enough to be presentable for a family meeting. There were clay streaks on Toby's dress trousers, though, so no matter how long or short the Hawthorne family meeting was, he would have to either spend some serious time and effort scrubbing them out or head home again before going into the London office.

The rest of the family was already assembled in the upstairs meeting room when Toby and Robbie arrived. Whether Nally had said something or rumors of last night's sleepover had spread fast in the family, the two of them got several knowing looks from the others.

"Well aren't you looking all dewy and fresh," Rhys teased from where he was tipped back in his chair, eating a muffin.

"Who looks dewy and fresh?" a voice came from one of the phones in the center of the table.

There were three phones resting there, all of them showing an active call, which told Toby that Mrs. Hawthorne, Ryan, and Rafe were all listening in. It was a complete Hawthorne family meeting, which meant he needed to really shine as he told them about their options.

"Robbie's been banging Toby Tillman, the guy who's about to tell us about the deal with Silver Productions," Rebecca said, completely matter of fact.

"Oh, that's convenient," Mrs. Hawthorne's voice sounded from one of the other phones. "I've always said Robbie needs to get laid more often."

Toby laughed, mostly because of the sheepish look Robbie wore.

"I'll cut right to the point," he said as he took a place near the head of the table, close to the phones. "Silver Productions is ready to sign a retainer deal to use Hawthorne House as a location for several productions it has in the works."

"They want it for more than just the medieval show?" Nate asked.

"Yep," Toby said. "The grounds are ideal for all sorts of productions, and they even like the stage area you've got near the Renaissance village."

He proceeded to spend the next twenty minutes outlining everything he'd talked about with Aaron Powter and giving a brief rundown of the costs and benefits of going into business with Silver Productions. There were a lot of positive points, but the deal would involve some initial financial outlay. Toby expected that the family would be able to meet those obligations without too much stress, though it would mean operating at the peak of efficiency for a few years and potentially adding new classes to the arts center's roster.

He was convinced the meeting was going well. The family were attentive and excited about everything he suggested. It wasn't until Mr. Hawthorne's phone flashed with another incoming call that things started to go pear-shaped.

"Hold on, Janice," Mr. Hawthorne said, reaching for his phone. "Geofrey Wright is calling on another line."

Mr. Hawthorne fiddled with his phone for a moment, figuring out how to put his wife on hold to take the other call, but he didn't manage to take it off of speaker.

"Hey, Geofrey," he answered the call. "Can I call you back in a bit?"

"Sorry, Robert, this can't wait," the other man's voice came through, loud and clear.

Mr. Hawthorne pulled the phone away from his face and stared at it, as if trying to figure out how to make the call private, but he was too late.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Geoffrey said, "but I woke up to a collapsing house of cards this morning."

"What do you mean?" Mr. Hawthorne asked, giving up his efforts and holding his phone out, like he was inviting the whole family into the call.

"I don't know what's happening, but already this morning, the Ancient House Association and the Historical Trust of South England have pulled their grant money from Hawthorne House."

Toby took the news like a fist in his gut.

"Wait, can they even do that?" Rebecca asked. "It's grant money. It's already been given."

"It's future grant money," Geoffrey explained. "You haven't received it yet, and now you're not going to. And that's not all."

Toby had been standing, but he sat.

"Westfield Bank has called in your loan as due by the end of the month," Geoffrey went on.

More than one of the people around the table and on the phone called out, "What?"

"They definitely can't do that," Rebecca said, looking panicked.

"Under ordinary circumstances, they can't," Geoffrey confirmed. "I'm looking into it, but apparently there's some remote clause in fine print that they're using to say that they can."

"But that's over a hundred thousand pounds," Mr. Hawthorne said. "Geoff, you're our solicitor, can't you find a way to stop this?"

"That's the thing," Geoffrey said. "Something's not right about this entire thing. I'm trying to get to the bottom of it."

"It's Duckworth," Robbie said with a dark scowl. "He's getting revenge for us turning down the deal with Willoughby Entertainment."

"Probably," Geoffrey said just as Toby's phone began to ring, "but if this explosion keeps happening, you might have no other choice but to take whatever offer Willoughby Entertainment wants to give you or risk the entire estate imploding."

Toby wanted to say that that was exactly what Duckie probably had in mind, but Philip Johnson's name was flashing on his phone screen.

He got up and stepped to the side to answer the call.

"Mr. Johnson, hello," he said, then rushed on with, "I'm at a meeting with the Hawthorne family, which is why?—"

"I'm going to stop you right there," Mr. Johnson said. "I'll keep this short and simple. You no longer work for Johnson, Johnson, and Inez. You've been terminated, effective immediately. Your things will be packed up and mailed to your home address."

"But Mr. Johnson?—"

"I have nothing more to say to you, Mr. Tillman," he was cut off. "I warned you not to cross Charles Duckworth, and you didn't listen. Next time, maybe you will."

"But—"

Johnson ended the call before Toby could get another word out.

A second later, he realized the meeting had gone silent and everyone was staring at him.

He shut his mouth and swallowed, then said, "I've just been sacked."

"Oh, Toby, I'm so sorry," Rebecca said. She was already at the edge of tears, and Toby's news tipped her over.

"This is outrageous," Rhys called out as both of his brothers on the phones tried to talk over each other with noise Toby didn't hear. "Who does Duckworth think he is to come after us like this?"

Toby's heart sank to a level even lower than it had been the day before, with Duckie's initial blow. He'd been sacked. That affected more than just him. That affected his mum and her medical problems. It affected Gerry being able to stay home and raise the kids instead of working. It definitely affected his plans to buy them all a bigger house so they could spread out more.

"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing his forehead with one hand.

As he dropped his hand, he touched his lip ring. He'd never fit in at Johnson, Johnson, and Inez. He'd never fit in anywhere. Trying to hold onto himself had meant he would only ever be as good as where he'd come from.

"This is all my fault," he said, feeling like he might vomit. "I'm so sorry."

He turned and strode for the door. Maybe if he broke with the Hawthorne family and called Duckie to suck dick and beg for mercy, the Hawthornes would be spared. What he wanted, his pride, didn't matter if the people who had been so kind to him could be saved.

"Toby!"

He jerked to a stop and turned around to find Robbie had followed him out of the meeting room, a look of deep concern on his face.

"This is not your fault," Robbie went on, walking quickly to catch up to him.

"Oh, but it is," Toby said, shaking his head and walking on.

"Toby, stop!" Robbie called after him, reaching for his arm.

Toby did stop, but not because of Robbie. Keith had just walked around the corner and had broke into a smile at the sight of Robbie.

"There you are," he said, looking straight past Toby, as if he didn't exist. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Are we still on for lunch today?"

Toby's blood froze. He knew the look in Keith's eyes. He knew that smile and what it meant.

He turned to Robbie, only to find a confused, anxious look on Robbie's face as he stared back at Keith. Whatever feelings Robbie had after the break-up, clearly, he wasn't entirely over Keith. In fact, everything he and Robbie had shared the night before suddenly felt like tawdry rebound sex.

"Perfect," Toby said, fury boiling up in him. He glared at Robbie. "What was that last night, a pity fuck? You felt sorry for me so you thought you'd make it better?"

"Toby, no," Robbie said, stepping toward him.

Toby jerked away. Sense told him to think things through, but he'd just lost his job, his mentor, who now hated him, had exploded the family he cared about, and his entire life was in jeopardy. He couldn't think straight, let alone sit politely and hash out what was going on with Robbie and Keith.

"I need to get out of here," he said, his voice thin and harsh, then strode down the hall, past Keith, and around the corner, desperate to get away.