An Unlocked Heart(Collars & Cuffs Stories) (4 page)

Thomas gaped at him in astonishment, mouth slightly open. “All this time,” he said softly, “and this is the first occasion I’ve seen you angry about his death. You’ve kept everything bottled in tight, haven’t you, lad?”

Leo sat back, his cheeks damp, his breathing more even. A half smile twisted his lips. “
Lad
?”

Thomas smiled. “There’s a part of my mind where you’ll always be that scared twenty-two-year-old who came to the club desperately looking for something—and finding it. And let’s not forget, once upon a time you were
my
sub.”

Leo smiled, the memories as sharp as if they’d been made yesterday. “Not for long, old man.”

Thomas leveled a hard stare at him, but Leo merely grinned back, recovered from his momentary lapse of self-control. Thomas reached across the desk and took Leo’s hand, surprising him—usually Thomas wasn’t given to displays of affection. “Leo, what you’re going through right now is normal. What’s more, it’s healthy.” Leo tilted his head. “Seriously! I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear you talk like this.” He tightened his grip around Leo’s hand and gazed at Leo intently. “I understand you don’t want another sub. But there are subs here who used to hang on your every word. Praise from you was praise indeed, and they miss it.” The intensity of his expression waned a little, and he released Leo’s hand as he sat back in his chair. “They want Master Leo back. Hell,
I
want Master Leo back!”

Leo reflected on Thomas’s words. He couldn’t deny a single thing. He marveled at the cathartic power of that brief moment. That hot rush of anger had cleansed him in some way, burning away the impurities, refining him, leaving him drained and shaken… and something else.

Free. Finally free.

Thomas sat watching him, a knowing smile on his face. “Feeling better?” he asked.

Leo nodded. He really did.

“Then I think you should call it a night, leave me to get on with it, and grab a bite to eat.” Thomas’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe go to that nice Italian restaurant you took me to last week.”

Leo was nonplussed for a moment, and then he started to laugh. “Oh, very subtle!”

Thomas shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not? Better than going back to an empty apartment.” He looked out the window. “It’s a lovely summer’s evening. You could take a leisurely stroll to Severino’s and have a really nice dinner, and watch the floor show at the same time.”

About as subtle as a hammer,
Leo thought. “That’s assuming, of course, he’s working tonight,” he said.

Thomas’s grin was far too smug. “Ah, so you
do
remember him.”

Leo shook his head, unable to prevent his smile. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that?”

To his surprise, Thomas got up and walked around to Leo’s side of the desk, holding out his arms. Leo stared at them for a moment, unsure how to react. He was seeing another side to his partner tonight. Thomas waited patiently, arms outstretched, and at last, Leo moved forward. Thomas held him, and the two men stood entwined for a moment, a sense of peace pervading the room.

Finally, Thomas stepped back, his eyes on Leo’s face. “I love you like a son, Leo. And I want you to be happy.” He smiled. “Because it’s about time.” Then he pushed Leo away with a grin. “Now go get some dinner.” He glanced at Leo’s attire with a wry smile. “Although, if I may make a suggestion… a change of clothing?”

“A
LEX
!
There’s a customer in your zone that needs seeing to!”

“Thanks, Vittorio.” In the small utility room, Alex stopped folding the clean table linen and went out into the main kitchen area. Tuesday nights were usually quiet, and tonight was no exception. The restaurant had hardly any customers, only a few tables here and there. There was a football match on, and Manchester United’s games always drew a huge crowd. He peered through the window of the kitchen door and froze. Seated at table four was Mr. Hot-as-Fuck from last week. Oh, no
way
!

Sev passed by on his way to the fridges, and Alex touched him lightly on the shoulder. “Sev, I haven’t finished sorting the tablecloths yet,” he said, hating how feeble the excuse made him sound. Rather that than go out there and have those icy blue eyes on him once more. It may have been a week since he’d seen the guy, but for some reason, time hadn’t diminished the impact their first meeting had had on Alex.

Sev took him aside. “What’s wrong, Alex?”

Damn, his boss could be far too intuitive sometimes. Alex liked that Sev treated all his staff in the same manner: courteously and patiently. There was something about him that commanded absolute respect, and Alex admired him enormously, although he was as yet unable to look him straight in the eye. But then, making eye contact with anyone was a huge obstacle for Alex, and he’d been working hard to overcome it, but it wasn’t easy. Something in him recoiled at the mere thought.

Alex turned to Sev, eyes downcast. “Please don’t ask me why, but is there anyone else who can go out there right now?”

Sev let out a patient sigh. “Alex, you’ve been dealing with customers all week, and you’ve done it really well.” Alex’s cheeks heated at the praise. “So what’s the problem?” Sev glanced through the window, and Alex heard the slow exhale. “Ahhhh, I see.” A small chuckle rolled out. “Mr. Hart won’t bite you—not unless you ask him to, of course.”
What
? Alex frowned, not understanding the comment, and Sev chuckled again. “Ignore me. Just get out there and take his order. If it’s an incentive for you, he’s a good tipper.” Still chuckling, Sev continued on his way, and there was nothing left for Alex to do but get out there.

He took a deep breath before pushing through the kitchen doors and weaving through the tables to where Mr. Hart was perusing the menu, deep in thought. Alex halted next to him, notepad in hand. “Would you care to order, sir?” The menu was lowered to the table, and Mr. Hart gazed up at him. Blue eyes met his for a fraction of a second before Alex hurriedly looked down at the pad in his hand.

“Good evening.” That firm, deep voice flowed over Alex like a caress. “May I know the name of my waiter this evening?”

Alex could hear the amusement in his tone. “My name is Alex,” he said, and then tried to shift things back onto their proper course. “What would you like to drink?”

“Well,
Alex
, seeing as I’m going to have the Filete Rossini, I’d like a glass of your house red. That’s always eminently drinkable.” Alex noted the wine and the main course. “I’d like a green salad to start, please.”

Alex bobbed his head, scribbling on his pad. “Is that everything, sir?” he asked, casting a fleeting but longing look toward the kitchen.

“For the moment, Alex.”

Again there was that undercurrent of amusement. Alex couldn’t help but shiver. Hearing his name uttered by that warm, deep voice was having the strangest effect on him. A frisson of electricity skated along his spine, and his cock stiffened. Time to go. He bumped into the table, and Mr. Hart reached out with lightning reflexes to right the wineglass, which tottered precariously.

“Easy there!”

Alex was mortified. “I’m so sorry—”

“No harm done,” he declared easily, handing over the menu. Alex took it with trembling hands. Why did this man affect him so strongly? With his height and long, gangly limbs, Alex was used to feeling ill at ease around others, but his performance this evening took his previous failings and sent them plummeting to new depths. If this went on, he could see Sev banning him from the restaurant altogether.

Carefully edging away from the table, he scurried into the kitchen, sanctuary yet again from the scrutiny of Mr. Hart. Even as he scooted off, he could feel those eyes boring into him, judging him, finding him wanting. Okay, so he’d imagined that last part. But to his way of thinking, Mr. Hart
would
feel like that. What was there about Alex that would invite the attention of someone like Mr. Hart?

A
S
A
LEX
picked his way through the tables, Leo smiled.

“It is so good to see you smile again, my friend.”

Leo twisted in his seat to find Sev standing behind him.

Leo looked in the direction of Alex’s departing figure. “What’s the story, Sev?” he asked, knowing full well there was one.

Sev’s eyes followed Alex, an affectionate expression on his face. He too smiled, before meeting Leo’s gaze, winking at him. “And what makes you think I am going to tell you?” he declared, eyes dancing with amusement. “No, I think not, Mr. Big Bad Dom. This one, you will have to work out all by yourself.”

Leo shook his head, laughing as Sev gave him a triumphant smile before walking toward the kitchen. “Then be prepared to see a lot more of me, my friend,” Leo murmured under his breath. He grinned. God, how he loved a challenge. And this one promised to be most interesting.

Four

“A
LEX
!
Your stalker is at table three.”

Alex frowned at Vittorio, genuinely puzzled, and then the penny dropped. “Oh, you mean Mr. Hart.” He chuckled. Stalker, indeed.

“Well, what else would you call him?” demanded Vittorio, smirking widely. “He must have been here at least four times a week for the past month!” He winked at the other staff in the kitchen. “And he always sits in your area.”

Alex blinked nervously. As yet, no one in the restaurant knew he was gay, although he had a sneaking suspicion Sev knew more than he was letting on. The closest he’d come to telling anyone was one afternoon on a break with Pietro. Alex liked the forthright trainee chef, who was always cheerful and took the time to chat with him. But the moment had passed without him saying anything. Alex swallowed. He wasn’t sure how his coming out would be received. They seemed a good bunch, and he’d put out a few feelers, trying to gauge their attitudes. As yet, no one had registered on his internal homophobe-o-meter, so maybe he was worried about nothing.

Alex caught Pietro’s eye. Pietro was nodding imperceptibly, his eyes gleaming wickedly. Alex recalled their conversation a couple of weeks ago, and all of a sudden he knew
exactly
what Pietro was begging him to say.
Oh, what the hell
….

“At least I
have
a stalker,” Alex said with a grin. “You’re just jealous.”

Vittorio’s eyebrows lifted. “Hey,” he exclaimed indignantly. “I have my share of lady admirers.” He glanced around at his audience, a smug smile on his lips. “What about that really hot woman two weeks ago? She asked specifically for me to serve her!
And
you all saw her kiss me before she left.” Vittorio preened.

Oh, talk about a gift
…. Alex readied for the kill. He winked at Pietro before continuing. “Yeah, but what you neglected to mention was, she’s your aunt.”

There was a moment of silence, and then the kitchen erupted into raucous laughter. Vittorio’s mouth dropped open, and he stared red-faced at Alex as his workmates laughed until tears ran down their cheeks. Vittorio quickly exited. One or two of the others patted Alex on the shoulder, congratulating him. “Nice one, Alex!”

Alex felt the wave of affection flow toward him, and he exhaled. Thank God,
that
had gone well.

Pietro sidled up to him and high-fived him, grinning hugely. “Ooo, that was good!”

“Yeah, but I owe it all to you,” Alex acknowledged gratefully. “If you hadn’t let me in on that little tidbit….” All of a sudden he realized his customer was waiting for him. “Shit! Mr. Hart!” He reached for his notepad and headed through the kitchen doors.

Mr. Hart was seated with his back to him, and Alex took a moment to contemplate his form. There was no denying he was a really good-looking man: broad shoulders, what seemed to be a thickly muscled back, thick arms…. Alex was glad of the opportunity to observe him unnoticed. Vittorio had been fairly accurate in his estimate of just how many times Mr. Hart had eaten in the restaurant recently. And always in Alex’s zone.

“When you’re ready to take my order, Alex.” That deep voice held amusement.

Alex gave a start.
Busted
. Did the man have eyes in the back of his head? Flushing, he moved toward the table and opened the notepad, pen poised to write. He was conscious of Mr. Hart’s gaze, knew the man was giving him the once-over as usual, but nothing would’ve induced him to meet that cool stare.

“What can I get for you this evening, Mr. Hart?” Alex was proud his voice betrayed none of the nerves he always suffered when this close to the man. Despite the fact he’d served him every time, they’d barely spoken beyond the odd comment about the weather, or compliments about the food or the wine. Alex was at a loss—why did Mr. Hart insist on coming back to him? It certainly wasn’t because of his scintillating conversation.

“How about something a little different tonight? What would you recommend?”

Alex thought for a moment. He now had a fairly good idea of what the man liked, after all. “You might like the chef’s new pasta dish, sir. It’s tortellini stuffed with sage and ricotta.”