Whistling in the Dark (19 page)

"Mary?" He felt a sting of disappointment. "You've got a girl back in Topeka?"

"Sister."

The sting vanished. "Oh." He tugged at the knot and only succeeded in dislodging his towel. As it slipped, he started to grab for it and Sutton beat him to it. "Saving me from a fate worse than death," he said with a grin.

"I imagine you'd survive it." Sutton's fingers warmed his skin. "You're bruised," he said.

"Yeah, well, you're still bruised, yourself."

"How do you know that?" Sutton's smile said he had already guessed the answer. The smile hinted at other things, too--and worse were the fingers tracing a tender line over Jack's ribs. A tingle raced in reaction along his spine and he ignored it. But he couldn't do anything about the way his heart picked up speed.

"House rules, Mabel."

That gray again, that fond, inviting gray, drawing him in. "You did say if I meant it."

"I did?"

Sutton nodded. He seemed to hold his breath and Jack hardly breathed, either. He thought they might well suffocate between the two of them if they didn't find that kiss. He'd tasted it at a party such a while ago and, God help him, no kiss was ever going to live up to it.

Except maybe this one. At the first crush of Sutton's mouth on his, he knew and he was pretty convinced Sutton did, too. It ignited some kind of insanity between them that had Sutton flat on the bed, Jack sprawled on top of him. They breathed just to stay conscious from one kiss to the next. Sutton seemed starved for him, Sutton who'd barely known him any time at all. His own desire was as sharp-edged as it had been when they'd kissed at Theo's party. He didn't understand it. He and Sutton were not a bit alike. If they had anything in common, he'd yet to find out. All the same, they kissed and groped and encouraged in heated whispers--until an insistent knock at the door made itself heard. Jack lifted his head and blinked, struggling to remember where he was.

"It must be nine-thirty," Sutton whispered.

"Hell. Why is he always so goddamned on time?" Leaving off now, with the taste of Sutton's skin on his lips, was almost more than he could do. Somehow he sat up, then felt around for his towel. Sutton seized his wrist.

"Wait. You can't--"

Jack didn't need to hear why he couldn't. Sutton handed him a pair of drawers and he put them on, buttoning hurriedly while Sutton tied the strings for him. That did not resolve the problem. Trying in vain to suppress a smile, Sutton handed over a dressing gown. Jack slipped into it. "Better?"

"Well--"

"Maybe you should go, then."

Sutton crossed his arms over his lap. "I think not."

Laughing, Jack mussed his hair. "I'll brave it alone." He smoothed down the front of the gown. "Hand me that magazine, will you?"

With the
Saturday Evening Post
preserving what decorum it could, Jack opened the door to let in a merry crowd. Harry in white tie and tails always unsettled Jack, he was so accustomed to the ink-stained cuffs and rumpled suits. Ox, on the other hand, hadn't found the best fit nor had he been entirely successful in slicking down his hair. But despite too much cuff and collar and the hair in his eyes, he looked as happy as Jack had ever seen him, no doubt due to the vision at his side. Gert had gowned Esther in one of the floaty concoctions she was so fond of, in warm shades of green, and had tamed the red curls into waves pinned with pearl combs and let loose down her nape in silky ringlets. But the changed thing about her--the thing that made her, in his estimation, even prettier than Gert--was the flush of excitement high on her cheeks and the blissful light in her eyes.

She caught Jack's stare and smiled as if all the fluff and trim embarrassed her. He grinned back. "Still no bosoms?"

"Jack," Harry muttered. He gave Esther a kiss on the cheek. "You look beautiful, sweetheart."

"Cleans up nice, don't she?" Gert looked around and wrinkled her nose. "Say, speaking of cleaning up--"

"Drinks, anyone?" Jack ushered them in, one hand still firmly around the magazine. Harry eyed him dubiously.

"I'll get the drinks. You go get dressed."

Jack escaped to the bedroom and found Sutton ready to leave. Hardly a word passed between them as Jack dressed, but the desperate looks and the hands that could barely keep to themselves made conversation dispensable. At the bedroom door, Jack stole one more kiss, doubting it would even carry him through supper.

Supper became the topic as the two of them joined the others and went downstairs to brave the chilly evening. "Reisenweber's?" Jack said. It would be pricier than their usual haunts, but he wanted some place Ox and Esther could reminisce over for years to come.

Harry shook his head. "They've got to be booked for the night. We'll never get in."

"I can get us in," Gert said.

"Yeah?" Harry wasn't convinced. "You got some kind of sway with the manager?"

"Have I got sway?" She let her furs glide down her arms as she sashayed along the curb. Passers-by slowed to stare. One tripped and nearly fell headlong into the gutter.

_{- - -}

Columbus Circle stood ablaze and the crowd that fluttered to the lights seemed intent on the same destination. Despite the restaurant's bottlenecked doorway, Gert succeeded in getting a table. Jack planted himself beside her, determined to find out why she was cozying up to the enemy. But Gert had hardly settled in her chair before some nervous lug wandered over to ask her to dance. The instant she was gone, Jack leaned across to Esther. "What's she up to?"

Esther shrugged. "She was nice as pie to me."

"She didn't say anything about Ned? Or Chase?"

"Not a word." Esther hesitated. "She did ask about Sutton, but--"

"What did she ask?" Jack pretended not to see the curious smile Sutton threw his way.

"Oh, you know." Esther smoothed her napkin. "What he's like, if he has a girl, that sort of thing." She cast a glance at Ox, who was hanging on her every word. He grinned and they both quickly looked away.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Will you two go dance?"

Ox looked alarmed but, at Esther's wistful glance, seemed to find enough breath to get the words out. "Would you like to?"

"Oh, very much." She started to jump to her feet, but stopped as Ox clambered to his and gingerly drew back her chair. He left a polite distance between them as he put an arm around her, but as he took her hand, she slipped closer--and they were off.

"Hope she's got steel toes in those silk shoes," Harry said. "I think he's near ready to pass out."

"Esther'll catch him if he does." Jack glimpsed Gert whirling by with a new partner. "Say, Harry, why don't you dance with Gert? See if you can get her to talk."

"I don't dance," Harry said. "And she talks plenty already. Too much, if you ask me."

"All right, I'll dance with her. The sacrifices I make. Sutton--well, where's he off to?"

"That music." The band at the other end of the dance floor had started a rollicking number. "By the time his folks come up to drag him home, they won't recognize him."

"Thanks to me."

"Don't tell me you ain't corrupting that kid in every way there is."

"Where'd you get that idea?" Jack turned at the waiter's approach and ordered a round of drinks. Harry added steaks to the order and Jack grinned. "No fried frog tonight?"

"No fried frog ever again," Harry said. "And I got that idea from you coming to the door wearing Sutton's dressing gown. I know something's going on. So are you going to tell me before Sutton ends up in jail or worse?"

"Nothing to tell," Jack said. "And you're shaking a finger at the wrong guy. He's as wicked as I am. Honest to God, Harry."

"Uh huh." Harry fished a cigar out of his pocket and tapped it on the tablecloth. "What the hell are they playing? I like a peppy little rag as much as the next fellow, but this--"

"It's jazz. Grows on you like mad if you give it a chance." Jack got up. "I'll be right back."

"Jack--"

"I'm just going to rescue him before that blond piranha devours him."

"As if he's any safer with you."

Jack wandered along the edge of the dance floor until he was within five feet of the band. There he found Sutton. It wasn't Gert nor any other predatory female who had her hooks in him. Jack circled him with a critical eye and concluded he may have just made a convert. "Like it?"

Sutton blinked as if he were waking from a dream. "What did you say?"

Jack laughed. "You want some supper, don't you?"

"Oh. Yes, when they've finished, all right?"

"They'll be playing for hours yet. Come and eat."

Sutton was quiet through supper and Jack let him alone so he could listen. Gert hadn't come back and God knew where Esther and Ox had gone. A buxom woman in a beaded satin gown joined the band to sing a ballad and couples on the dance floor huddled like lovebirds to the sleepy sway of the music. Jack scooted his chair closer to Sutton's. "Want to sit in with the band?"

Sutton laughed. "I wouldn't have a hope of keeping up."

"You'd play like an angel."

"Angelic is one thing this music ain't," Harry said around a mouthful.

"It's got something of Heaven in it," Sutton said. "I don't think even angels could sit still."

"If they can't, why should we?" Jack tugged at his elbow. "Feeling brave?"

Harry groaned. "Jack, can we get through supper before you get us tossed out?"

"They won't toss us out. Theo and I got away with it. Everyone thought we were part of the show," he explained to Sutton with a laugh.

Ox and Esther returned with Gert in tow. As they sat, flushed and cheerful, to eat their suppers, Jack felt a little wistful. He leaned over and whispered in Sutton's ear. "When the band starts up, what do you say?"

"Harry will never forgive us." Sutton didn't seem particularly perturbed by the thought. Still, he said, "Perhaps you should ask Gert."

Jack found his hand under the table and clasped it, interlacing fingers. "I don't want to dance with Gert," he whispered.

If Sutton had been learning not to trust him, growing affection was wearing down that wisdom. At his nod, Jack sprang out of the chair. "Harry, if we get tossed out, meet us at Childs. I'll buy you pie and coffee."

Harry grumbled something that was lost in the thunder of a trumpet and Jack sallied away, with Sutton in his wake.

- Twenty -

Dancing with Theo had been a prank. With Sutton, it was something more. They flew light as air on a jubilant rhythm, leaving the ordinary world a small, distant place behind them. If the world looked on in disapproval, Jack couldn't guess and didn't care. Sutton stayed steadfast and Jack could do no less, until a firm hand on his shoulder wrenched him back down to earth. The manager, Jack assumed as he turned to take in a salt and pepper moustache and, under it, a smile as neatly arranged. Jack savored a passing desire to stomp on the man's foot, just to see if the smile would waver. "Something wrong?" he asked.

The manager leaned in. "A word with you in private, sir?"

Jack knew what that word would be. "We were just on our way back to our table--unless you're throwing us out."

"Not at all," the manager said smoothly. "Enjoy your evening."

"We can't dance?"

It was a gloriously foolish question and asked as if Sutton believed there might come an answer that made sense. Jack looked at him in admiration, wishing he'd asked it, himself.

The manager's smile gave a fraction. "There are any number of young ladies, sir--"

"Suppose a fellow preferred to dance with the boys?" Sutton threw the faintest smile Jack's way. Couples around them had stopped dancing, to soak in the disturbance with keen interest. Jack heard their comments, some joking, some serious--most disparaging. In another minute, the band would quit playing and the manager's effort to deal efficiently with the matter would be for naught. If Sutton was as aware of it, something in him seemed determined to hang on. "What's the harm?"

The music fell into a plaintive cacophony and, along with the chatter, trickled away. A flush rose in the manager's cheeks. "We understand the need for celebration at a time like this," he said, his low voice carrying well in the quiet, "but we are obliged to maintain certain standards." He raised a hand to summon assistance. "If you'll come with me, this issue may be better resolved downstairs."

"Standards?" Sutton's weary laugh was so soft, Jack felt sure no one heard it but him. "We were only dancing."

"Not much of a reason to kick a fellow out," Jack said. "Now this--" He grabbed Sutton and kissed him, to a chorus of gasps, whistles, and raucous laughter. A grip like iron forced him away from Sutton and forward through the crowd, which scrambled to clear a path for them and the gentlemen escorting them from the floor--literally, Jack mused, as the goliath at his back hoisted him nearly off his feet.

Sutton, in the same predicament, clutched at Jack's coat sleeve. "Couldn't wait until we were home, could you."

Jack wasn't drunk--but so ridiculously pleased, he thought he might as well have been. He started in lustily on the first song that came to mind, an innocent melody that belonged to a lost world. "Kiss me, my honey, kiss me and say you'll miss me as I'll miss you. Love me, my honey, love me, like stars above me, say you'll be true, while away every day I'll be thinking of you--"

Laughter and applause submerged his voice and Sutton rescued him, harmonizing with at least a few of Jack's off-key notes. Once escorted to the street, they ran through the cold to the crowded cafeteria down from Reisenweber's.

"God, I'm freezing." Jack dropped into a chair beside Sutton and pressed his face in the smooth wool of Sutton's lapel.

"Jack." Exasperation and affection, stirred in just the right amounts. "Why did you do that?"