Dissonance (29 page)

He emerged from immigration and customs about forty minutes later and headed toward the door to find his driver. He’d just managed to get past the crowd of people waiting to meet their friends and relatives when he heard the sound of crashing luggage behind him. He turned around to see a woman trying to right several bags a dozen feet behind him as four children chased each other around. Cam smiled and walked over to help.

“I’m so sorry,” the exhausted-looking mother was telling a few irritated passengers around her. “My husband went to find a porter and—” One of the children ran directly into Cam, colliding with his legs.

Cam laughed, took the child’s hand, and brought her back to her mother amidst the child’s giggles. “I think this one belongs to you,” he said as he set the child down and kneeled to assist.

“Thank you.” The mother smiled at him as he began to gather up the contents of what he guessed was a diaper bag.

“My pleasure.” Cam handed her back the bag, then noticed the teddy bear a few feet away. The child he’d just returned began to cry and point to it. “I’ll get it. Don’t you worry.” He reached for the stuffed animal, but before he could grab it, someone else stooped down to pick it up before it got stepped on.

“Thank you,” he said as he looked up. “You saved—” He stopped speaking when he took in the familiar face.

Galen smiled back at him, his hazel eyes bright with pleasure as he handed Cam the bear.

Cam swallowed hard, then stood and absentmindedly rubbed a thumb against the soft fur, unsure of what to say. “Galen,” he managed after a moment. “Why? How?” Something—someone—tugged at his pants leg. The little girl he’d rescued before had her hand out. “Oh,” he said. “This is yours, I imagine.”

The girl nodded, solemnly took the bear from him, and hugged it tight. A moment later she jumped into her mother’s arms. The woman smiled back at him. Her husband had rejoined her, and they were helping a porter load bags onto a cart.

“I heard the FBI released you,” Galen said. “But by the time I called your apartment, your housekeeper said you’d already left for London. I caught the next flight I could book a seat on.”

“But… I don’t understand. Why did you come?” Cam still couldn’t quite comprehend seeing Galen here.

“Thought you might need some moral support.” Galen embraced Cam. Cam felt a slight shudder pass through Galen’s body at the contact.

“You shouldn’t have. It’s too expens—”

“Shhh.” Galen kissed Cam’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got enough to cover it. And I figured you could use a friend right about now.”

Galen made it sound so simple.
And he’s right too.

“I…. Thank you.” He wanted Galen here. Galen obviously wanted to be here. Why was he hesitating to accept Galen’s gift? Because that was what it was: a gift.

Because you don’t deserve his friendship
, the voice in the back of his brain whispered. Cam ignored the voice and all the memories it recalled. “But what about your job?” he asked.

Galen shrugged. “The school system suspended me,” he said.

“What? For not reporting Jamie’s stepfather?”

“No biggie.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Cam snapped. “You love that job.” Galen wasn’t telling him everything. He probably didn’t want to worry him. And even though Cam wanted to hear the entire story, now wasn’t the time to press Galen on it.

“Yes. I do.” Galen smiled at him reassuringly. “But there’s no telling if I’ll lose it anyhow. The board is supposed to meet soon.”

“And what about the competition? Who’s going to do that?”

Galen shrugged again. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For the time being, the choral teacher will work with the students.”

Cam wasn’t convinced, but he dropped the subject. He sensed Galen’s discomfort with the topic. If he’d learned anything in his time with Galen, it was that he didn’t have to know the answers to all his questions all the time. He’d become more patient. He’d wait to ask again when he sensed Galen was ready.

“Do you have a place to stay?” he asked Galen as they headed toward the elevators.

“Nah. I figured I’d find a hotel once I caught up with you.”

“You’re staying with me,” Cam said fiercely. He rationalized this by telling himself he didn’t want Galen to spend any more money on his account, but the truth was that he wanted Galen with him.
Needed
his support.

Galen appeared surprised. “Well, if you put it that way….” He leaned in and kissed Cam again.

“So what will you do now?” Galen asked as they stepped into the limousine a few minutes later.

“Now?” Cam gazed out the window as they rounded the corner into London traffic. “Now I pretend that nothing has changed.” Easier said than done, since the thought of getting out and about scared him more than he cared to admit. But he felt better about the prospect of showing his face again knowing Galen was at his side.

“And what does that mean?” Galen asked.

Cam grinned. “We paint the town red.”

“W
ELL
,
DO
I look like I’m ready for the town?” Galen asked as he walked down the steep stairs of Cam’s Edwardian house four hours later. Too tired for anything but rest after having been awake for nearly twenty-four hours, Cam had fallen asleep in Galen’s arms in the large antique bed he’d purchased a year before, not wanting to keep the bed he and Aiden had shared.

Even though he loved the old house, Cam hadn’t spent much time here since Aiden left. Too many memories. There had been a time when he’d thought about purchasing the home from his landlord, but after Aiden left, he’d given up that idea. Continuing to pay the rent was easier than coming to terms with the loss of Aiden. With Galen, though, he felt strangely comfortable. When they’d awoken, Cam had showered and dressed first, telling Galen he’d wait for him downstairs. In truth, he needed the time to gather his courage. He’d been hiding too long. Tonight he would remind London who Lord Cameron Sherrington was, and in the process he’d send a message to Duncan that he would not be intimidated or frightened.

He’d been sitting by the fire, sipping whiskey and watching the flames dance, when Galen came downstairs. When Cam turned to look, he nearly spit a mouthful of expensive spirits. “I… you…. Shit, Galen, you look fabulous.” An understatement, really. Galen looked good enough to eat.

Dressed in a pair of well-tailored wool pants and a green sweater that picked up the color in his eyes, Galen looked so different that Cam guessed he wouldn’t have recognized him if he’d passed him in the street. Galen’s hair, normally an impossible mess, now framed his face in waves the color of wheat. Smooth and shiny. He’d shaved his usual stubble and wore a single silver cuff on his right ear.

“Didn’t think I owned anything other than T-shirts and jeans, did you?” Galen joked. Cam guessed Galen felt uncomfortable with the compliment. He’d rarely seen Galen uncomfortable about anything, and this realization came as a surprise.

Cam stood and slipped his arms around Galen’s waist. “Maybe we should just order in tonight.”

Galen offered him a crooked smile. “You need to do this, Lord Sherrington,” he said as he kissed his way up Cam’s neck, causing Cam to shudder with pleasure.

Cam sighed theatrically. “I know. But it was a lovely thought.”

Galen took Cam’s earlobe into his mouth. “Something to look forward to, then,” he whispered a moment later.

G
ALEN
WAS
still smiling as they hailed a cab outside the Edwardian a few minutes later. He hadn’t asked Cam where they were headed. He didn’t care. He’d have been perfectly happy if Cam had suggested they stay in bed instead of going out, but he knew Cam needed this.

“I’m glad you came,” Cam said as the taxi sped down the street toward the heart of London. Cam fingered something on his wrist.

“You kept the bracelet?”

The corners of Cam’s mouth quirked upward into a half smile as he pushed his sleeve up to reveal the friendship bracelet. “I’ve come to rely on it.”

“Really? I’m glad.” In fact, it made Galen’s heart beat a little faster to know that Cam had held on to it all this time. But Cam didn’t need to know that.

“This all feels so strange.” Cam ran a hand through his hair. “Surreal.”

Galen saw that Cam no longer used the sticky gel in his hair that he’d favored when they’d met. Once, in passing, he’d mentioned that Cam’s hair looked different, and Cam had teased him about the dearth of hair products in the house. But when Galen had offered to buy more, Cam had told him he’d come to like the natural look. Galen loved Cam’s soft curls, so he didn’t argue.

“Are you nervous?” Galen asked, clasping Cam’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Yes.” Cam held Galen’s hand a bit tighter. “A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have admitted it.” He laughed and added, “Then again, a few weeks ago, there’d have been nothing to be nervous about.”

When Cam stepped out of the elevator and into Zyng a half hour later, any trace of nerves had vanished. The bar took up an entire floor of the trendy London hotel. The textured glass dividers that wove in and around mirrors and modern seating in shades of red, silver, and gold reminded Galen of the ocean at sunset. The effect was quite beautiful, even if the clientele—men and women dressed in outrageously expensive designer clothing with perfect bodies, perfect skin, and perfect hair—left Galen feeling cold.

Cam’s entrance to the pounding techno beat had heads—both male and female—turning. He looked beautiful in the perfectly fitted black suit that skimmed the topography of his lean frame. The white shirt and just barely darker white tie reminded Galen of an angel, but the diamond stud in Cam’s ear and the look in his eyes were anything but angelic. Galen had never seen him as focused.

“Cam? Cameron Sherrington?” The tall blonde with a French accent and a very short skirt swept over to them and kissed Cam on both cheeks. “Je me suis inquiété pour toi. Comment vas-tu?”

“Tout va bien, Caroline,” Cam answered easily. “I’m well. Truly. Just a bit of trouble with my visa. Nothing to worry about.”

“But we heard—”

“Caroline, I’d like you to meet Galen Rusk. Galen, this is Caroline Bernard. A friend of mine from uni.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Galen leaned in and kissed Caroline on each cheek.

“And I you.” Caroline smiled knowingly. “At least now we know why Cam has stayed so long in New York.”

Cam laughed but did nothing to dispel her assumption.

“Why don’t I get us drinks?” Galen asked. “Caroline?”

“Gin and tonic.” She laced her arm through Cam’s and began to lead him over to a table on the far end of the bar.

“Whiskey. Knappogue Castle, if they have it,” Cam said over his shoulder with a look meant just for Galen that said
sorry to trouble you
.

Galen didn’t mind. This was Cam’s moment to shine, and he was happy to be the window dressing. He walked over to the bar and ordered their drinks, then watched as Cam greeted the men and women at the table.

“He is quite lovely, isn’t he?” a man said from behind Galen.

“What?” Galen turned to face the speaker, an attractive man in his late twenties. Tall, dressed in dark jeans and a button-down shirt opened just enough to reveal his smooth skin, he wore the same expression Galen had seen on Caroline’s face.

“I’m Leslie Gartner.”

Galen shook Leslie’s hand. “Galen Rusk. Good to meet you.”

“American,” Leslie purred. “How quaint. He does seem to like himself a good Yank.”

Galen decided he’d best play dumb. “He?”

“Lord Sherrington. Used to bring his last Yank here too. Big-name opera singer. Arden, or something like that.”

“Aiden,” Galen corrected.

“Of course.” Leslie clearly didn’t care what Aiden’s name was. “Then there was the swimmer. Nice body, not much else to offer. Other than the singer, none of them lasted long.”

Galen didn’t appreciate the not-so-subtle warning in Leslie’s words. He clenched his jaw and took a slow breath.
Breathe. Relax. Focus.
He’d avoided this sort of place for years, preferring the more intimate bars in the West Village to the trendier clubs in SoHo. But he could do this for Cam. He would do it. “I don’t think I need to—”

“Mind you, he’s a good fuck. Although he prefers to do the fucking, if you know what I mean.”

“Excuse me,” Galen said, his urge to throttle the little shit surprisingly powerful.

Leslie waved, made a point of looking Galen up and down, and then went back to his drink. At least he and Leslie agreed on something: Cam really
was
quite lovely.
Jealous son of a bitch.

Galen snagged two of the drinks—he couldn’t manage to carry his own, especially if it meant navigating the sea of people who had gathered around Cam—then made his way across the room. Caroline greeted him at the edge of the crowd, thanked him and took her drink and Cam’s, then worked her way back through the throng of people to the center, where Cam stood.