Put a Ring on It (7 page)

“In Times fucking Square, Theo. It didn’t occur to you that anyone would vid it?”

“I didn’t think about that. I was only thinking about you and me and—”

“Showing off for the whole goddamned world?”

Theo knelt in front of him, hands reaching for Kieran’s thighs before jerking back.

Kieran didn’t realize until that moment that he was naked, which ordinarily wouldn’t bother him in the condo. But today it felt like everyone in the city could see in. He had an absurd impulse to cover his junk. Too late. It was all too late.

Theo had on a pair of jeans, hanging low enough for Kieran to see he was free balling. So however Theo had woken up to the news, he’d had time to grab something to put on.

“Kieran, I swear to God, this was not part of my plan. I would never do anything like that to you. I couldn’t.”

There was only one way to describe that look on Theo’s face. Stricken. Dying-animal-on-the-side-of-the-road stricken. No. Theo wasn’t that good of an actor.

He swallowed, voice breaking. “If I could take it back, I would.”

The words hurt like a punch to the gut. Kieran stripped off the ring. He hadn’t wanted it anyway. Until—

Theo pushed the hand holding it back into Kieran’s belly. “No. That’s not what I meant. I still want you to have it. I want to marry you. Unless you don’t.”

“I want—” A rewind? A do-over? Something where they talked about it for a few months or years first. None of that was Theo. “—you.” Kieran held the ring between two fingers. No point in going halfway now. He shoved it onto his left ring finger.

Theo let out a long, shaky breath. Kieran held out his hand and let Theo pull him onto the floor. So he was screwed six ways from Saturday. Maybe they could go on a really long honeymoon somewhere no one knew either of them.

As they settled into a half-sitting, half-reclining tangle on the area rug, Kieran asked, “How’d you find out?”

“Martin called.”

Okay. It wasn’t surprising that Theo’s business manager would find out right away. Probably had a Google alert on Theo and his shows. But that had been a long talk for congratulations.

“What did he have to say about it?”

Theo’s hold tightened. Not that Kieran needed the warning. He didn’t like a lot of the things Martin said.

“I should have let him know, involved PR, could have gotten a lot more out of it with a little advance notice. About what you’d expect.”

“I should think three hundred thousand hits already should be enough, even for Martin.”

“Three
hundred
thousand?”

“According to Brett.”

Theo whistled.

Kieran nudged him with an elbow. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Nope.”

“I’m still not happy.”

“I know. And I’m sorry about that.” Theo shifted them until Kieran leaned back against Theo’s chest. His stubble scraped Kieran’s shoulder and neck, and Theo followed that tingle up with a kiss under Kieran’s ear. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Hmm. I think about a million blow jobs should do it.”

“Damn, I should get started.”

Kieran’s dick always thought Theo’s blow jobs were a good idea, no matter how many times he’d come in the last twelve hours.

Theo’s phone rang, the ringtone something about mean and green that Kieran couldn’t remember hearing before.

“He can leave a message.” Theo kissed Kieran’s neck, hand stroking over his hip.

“Oh fuck. My mother.” Kieran scrambled away and to his feet. “Do not even go there with the joke. She’s called twice already.”

Theo sealed his lips as Kieran headed for the bedroom. Where the fuck had he dropped the damn phone? Theo came in to stand behind him. “Should I have asked her permission first?”

“Fuck. You. You know there’s a reason my brother lives in DC.” Kieran gently shook out the duvet.

“Besides that his work is there?”

“And that Siobhan would rather be without indoor plumbing than deal with—thanks.”

Theo had produced the phone from under the dust ruffle.

Kieran had never disconnected from Brett. Maybe that bit of melodrama had protected Kieran from a few more missed calls. He pressed End Call. Brett would have to take a number. Now serving number thirty-eight at the Remind Kieran How Screwed He Is Counter.

He had never wanted more to crawl into a hole and pull it in after him. The problem was he wanted Theo in there with him.

“Your mom is great.” Theo peeled off the jeans and headed into the bathroom. “She said I was a mensch.”

“That was before you were marrying into the family.”

“Oh.” Theo came back into the doorway. “Is there a male equivalent of shiksa?”

“You’re probably about to find out.”

AS THE
taxi lurched downtown, Theo was treated to the view of the back of Kieran’s head as his fiancé scrutinized the west side of Tenth Avenue.

Kieran wasn’t quitting, but he was a hell of a long way from happy. Theo wasn’t sure what it was going to take to get Kieran even a fraction out of grumpy. Theo had a Greatest Hits list he liked to play in his head when things got crazy. Currently number one, on constant repeat, was Kieran saying
I love you
. Not the first time, when it had seemed to take him by surprise. But the second round, when it had been whispered dark and hot against Theo’s ear, as if Kieran had to say it, had needed to say it.

Theo had known all along that, as much as Kieran liked the advantages that came with Theo’s fifteen years of busting his ass to get to the top of his game, he couldn’t bribe Kieran into loving him. Kieran flat out refused to need anything. No, getting Kieran to love him back would take the same things Theo’s career had taken. Energy and work and focus. Kieran really responded to focus.

Theo put a hand on Kieran’s denim-covered knee. No flinch. Kieran covered Theo’s hand with his own, the diamond catching Theo’s eye. Maybe it had been the ring that had tipped the scales. Not the expense of it, but the solid, I-really-mean-this proof wrapped around Kieran’s finger.

At least he was sure the ring hadn’t been responsible for the sudden mission abort last night. It was a one-off. Super stress, too much expectation. Things had been fine this morning. It wouldn’t happen again.

Theo curled their fingers together. “Should I have gotten us a car?”

“God, no.” Kieran glanced down at their hands. “The taxi’s more than enough. I was going to take the train.” He paused. “With my scarf over my face. Standing ten yards away from you.”

The video had been the ending fluff piece on the eleven o’clock news last night. The doorman had congratulated them when he’d gotten them a cab.

Kieran had hunched down deeper inside his jacket and scarf.

“Was your mom upset?”

Kieran shrugged. “She did that dry thing she does so well.”

Look who’s talking.

“Dad was the one who made it clear a visit was expected. Did you call your family?”

Kieran’s expression reminded Theo of Gideon’s every time Jax suggested the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island. Premotion motion sickness.

“I’ll talk to them later. They’re not really wired in that they would have seen the video. Which again, I’m sorry about.”

“It’s done. Can’t change it.”

“I would, though. For you.” Theo thought about kissing him, but the last thing Kieran needed was a potential blast of homophobia from a taxi driver.

Martin’s ringtone sounded from Theo’s pocket. He glanced at Kieran.

“Go ahead.”

Theo had been working with Martin for five years and had been in New York for almost eighteen, but he still couldn’t get used to the abrupt launch into content without any of the social conventions.

“So, I just got off the phone with Pfarrer, and wait until you hear this.”

Pfilthy rich Pfarrer. Pfarrer Investments. They hadn’t been interested in backing
Susan
, but Martin had feelers out about the upcoming deal with MGM. If Theo already had money on his side, they’d be coming at the negotiations from a much stronger position.

“That’s great, Martin.” Theo snuck a look over at Kieran. “But can we—?”

“You don’t understand.
They
called me. Loved the video. Love the whole viral marketing.”

“It wasn’t marketing.” God, Martin was so loud, Kieran probably heard every word.

“Whatever. They love it. They are suddenly in love with gay romance. They wanted to know what you had in the pipe, so I told them about
Two for the Show
.”

Just hearing the name of his baby made Theo’s stomach dip like a first kiss. The book, the music. All his. He didn’t want to direct it—hell, no. He wanted Raylene for it. And he wanted to see it mounted so bad he sweated for it like a junkie.

“And?”

Like Martin couldn’t hear the shake and the dry patch in Theo’s throat. He felt Kieran watching him.

“They love it. They’re thinking it’s timely.”

Theo had been around long enough to know there was always a but. Fairy tale investors did not drop from the sky. “They can come in on film and road, but the music rights and the book—”

Kieran slid closer on the seat. Theo gave him a reassuring smile as Martin cut back in.

“They’re not looking to muscle in. They want to back the production, come on board from the start. And you know that means everyone else will be jumping to get a share. Tedisco, Roegner.”

Martin was like a genie offering Theo his three wishes for the backers he’d need. But it couldn’t be that easy.

Theo had worked for everything he had, but he’d also learned not to ignore his hunches. The ones that told him a sure bet was going to be box office poison. The ones that told him to cut or add or tweak a song. And the one that told him that first morning after with Kieran:
him
. This man. He’s it.

Right now something big was coming up, and he was going to love it or hate it, and the gut call would be the right one.

Martin laid it out. “You and Kieran. It’s like the best, cheapest dress run ever. You keep on charming the Internet with your wedding plans. They see how it plays in Redstatelandia. Then you get your investors, and
Two for the Show
becomes a reality.”

The possibility bubbled and fizzed inside like champagne. His songs, his words. Start to finish. And all it would take was—Kieran.

“No.”

“No what? Are you still pissed about
Susan
? Because they’re the ones losing out there. The profits—”

“It has nothing to do with
Susan
.” Theo shot a look at Kieran and forced himself not to wrap him in a hug that would have Kieran squirming away. “Martin, I’m going to be in a tunnel in a second. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

“This is your dream come true and you tell me
Nah, catch ya later
?”

“Now you sound like a used car salesman.”

“Christ, Theo, you know goddamned well you may never see this kind of timing again.”

“Yes, Martin, I know. Tunnel.” Theo ended the call.

“What’s up?” Kieran rubbed a palm over his jeans.

“Just investor stuff. Bargaining over future shows.”

Kieran stopped looking down and raised his eyebrows at Theo.

Martin was loud. But even if Kieran had heard, this was what he wanted. Theo had just gotten him to put the ring on. No way was he going to freak him out into taking it off again.

“It’ll be fine.”

AFTER PAYING
the cabbie, Theo turned to see Kieran already heading up the steps to his parents’ house. Theo jogged to catch up. Theo kept half a continent between himself and his own family on purpose, so he could understand Kieran’s nerves. As much as Kieran might complain about and mock his family as “The Rainbow Made of Children” based on his parents’ decision to adopt from a variety of ethnicities, he was very close to them. Aside from his younger sister, Ash, who was still in school, Kieran was the only one who had chosen to return to Brooklyn as an adult.

After pressing the doorbell, Kieran glanced up at Theo, who tried to reassure him with a wink. Even if Kieran’s parents had accepted him being gay with open arms instead of the heavily armed truce Theo had with his parents, seeing them on the eleven o’clock news wasn’t the way most parents liked to hear about a son’s engagement. Theo would have been less tense if he were facing the investors after a catastrophic dress rehearsal. But if there was one thing he excelled at, it was putting a good face on a disaster.

Marilyn, Kieran’s mother, called them in from somewhere in the house.

The dining room table to the right of the entry was set with china, smooth linens, and lit candles. An embroidered cloth covered two bread loaves, the braided ends peeking out.

Marilyn stepped forward and kissed her son’s cheek, putting a hand on Theo’s arm in welcome.

“Mom? Why is the table set for shab—?”

Marilyn pinched Kieran’s mouth shut, jerking her head in the direction of the kitchen.

“Are they here?” A slender figure with bottle-black hair strode out of the kitchen. The flowing hippie clothes overwhelming her small frame could have come from the wardrobe of a
Hair
revival. She held out her arms to Kieran.

“Hi,
Bubbe
.” He gave her a quick embrace.

“
Tsatskele
.” She held on, squeezing him.

“That’s for girls, Bubbe.”

“It means ‘pet,’ and who here is marrying some
alte raykh goy
so he can live soft?”

“He’s not old.” Kieran’s grandmother was in her eighties, but she moved like a much younger woman. Now she fixed him with a sharp glare. “So this is the
shaygetz
who wants to marry my grandson?”

“This is Theo, Bubbe. Theo, my grandmother, Emma Schwartz.”

“
Gut shabbos
, Mrs. Schwartz.”

“Hmm. He talks pretty.
Nu
?”

Theo didn’t know that bit of Yiddish, but the scorn was easy enough to follow.

Marilyn came to Theo’s rescue. “Ma, I told you all about Theo. He’s a very decent man.”