Page 36 of Two for Charging

Slack-jawed, Luca stared at him for a moment. He still didn’t know?

God, I love him.

The thought assaulted Luca, left him bruised and confused. He’d known he had feelings, known they were intense and deep, but love?

Love.

What a cruel joke to realize as much after Breezy had reminded him, once again, he was straight and revealed he might not be interested in sex at all. The latter wasn’t bad, but it didn’t match Luca’s desires at all. He wanted sex with Breezy all the time. Maybe he could coach—

Luca cleared his throat. “I got you an appointment with my tailor. I cannot stand to see you in those things you call suits anymore.”

A hurt look crossed Breezy’s face for an instant, and Luca could have kicked himself. Breezy had been vulnerable and open with him, then Luca repaid him with mockery? Thankfully, he had an easy way to make Breezy forget his unkind words. “She is Italian.”

Breezy brightened, forgetting the hurt much faster than Luca forgot his guilt. “Oh man, wait until I tell my family about this!”

They took BART to the Financial District, where Luca’s tailor had a tiny store on the ground floor of a massive high-rise. It smelled of shoe polish and lavender, a scent profile Luca associated with the walk-in closet in his parent’s house and thus enjoyed. A handful of mannequins stood in the windows, clothed in classic, elegant suits in charcoal and navy, just like those the men who worked in the building would wear. Inside, the array of varied fabrics drew the eye far more than the staid display pieces.

“Luca!” Leonora, the shop proprietor and tailor, advanced on them. She wore a suit that was elegance itself, narrow pinstripes showing off her slight, spry figure. Several sewing implements stuck out of the bun she had tied her long, gray-streaked hair into.

“Ciao, bella,” Luca responded, and they exchanged cheek kisses.

She looked Breezy up and down. “What treats have you brought me here?”

Breezy went red up to the very tips of his ears. Luca wanted to lick him. In need of a sex coach, what a joke. Any halfway competent partner would eat him for breakfast and take him out for it afterward.

Belatedly, Luca said, “He speaks Italian.”

“Even better!” Leonora clapped her hands together. “Now, young man, have you ever had a properly tailored suit?”

“I think so?” Breezy said.

“No,” Luca corrected.

“Right. Take off your clothes.” She gestured to the stand for fittings and the chair beside it.

Breezy made a startled, frightened sound.

Leonora pinned him down with an unimpressed look. “I am fifty-seven years old and very happily married to my fourth husband. Nothing you can show me will be something I have not seen before.”

“Right.” Still blushing, Breezy pulled off his Henley and loose jeans, leaving him in pink boxer briefs with little geometric line drawings of ice cream cones in teal.

Leonora surveyed him once again before turning to Luca. “He is adorable. And gorgeous. Is he on your hockey team?”

“Again, he understands everything you’re saying,” Luca said. “And yes.”

She waved him off. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Um, Chris.”

“All right, um, Chris. What do you look for in a suit?”

Breezy turned to Luca for hints on the correct answer.

“What fabrics do you like to wear?” Luca tried, but he had a sinking feeling that was verified as soon as Breezy opened his mouth.

“I think my favorite one is polyester. It’s comfortable? And not all stiff.”

Leonora patted him on the cheek. “You are very lucky you are so handsome, child. What about color?”