“Sorry?”
“Pop the boot.” Zach raced out of the car, gathered the blankets Brandy kept there and returned hurriedly, closing the door with a thunk. “Here, lean on these and pop your feet on my lap.”
“One part of me suspects a foot massage. The other fears you’ll start sole-reading me.”
“Ohh, palm reading. We should do that sometime. Check out that love line.”
Brandy opened his mouth and shut it. He arranged the blankets against his door and relaxed back, easing the weight of his feet onto Zach’s lap.
“You know, I was prepared to do this even if your feet were grubby, but wow, they’re like you just hopped out of a bath.”
“Once again, without words.”
Zach took hold of Brandy’s foot and elicited the most wanton groan he’d ever heard. He shuffled in his seat.
Brandy murmured, rested his head back, and closed his eyes.
“I learned this two years back. Noah and I were in Australia and got scared senseless by a snake that found its way into our shopping bag. I decided I didn’t need to cook ever again after that so we scoured the town for a restaurant, and I spot the local library and they’re holding a ‘how to destress’ session, and I mean, snakes right? I hauled Noah in there and we spent the next hour and a half learning all the pressure points in the foot.
“After that, we . . . actually, enough about me. You’re the enigma here. Peel off more layers for me—” Zach looked up and froze.
Brandy’s breathing was shallow and regular, the tight lines around his face relaxed in slumber.
“Brandy? Are you asleep?”
Zach closed his hands around Brandy’s feet. He might wake suddenly if he let go, and dude, the man needed this nap.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Twenty-five. Wow, he sure went deep.
At thirty-five minutes, it was time. Zach gently massaged his other foot and another moan prefaced his awakening. “He’s aroused at last.”
Brandy snapped into a sitting position. “I—I was sleeping.”
“I know. But the double entendre could not go unpassed.”
“Something else won’t pass unless you keep your eyes up here.”
Zach lifted his head and smirked. “That reminds me, tomorrow we’re going to the market for fresh honey.”
“How does that remind you of . . . never mind. Thank you for the . . . stirring foot massage.”
Zach laughed. “Old men and their quick wit!”
“You’re going to regret a lot of things when you hit thirty. I hope I’m there for all your glorious remorse.”
“When I’m thirty, you’ll be forty. We’ll be sobbing together.”
“Well. As long as it’s together.”
“Like I’d have it any other way.”
This was something.
He was a freaking prince in all these tight clothes. The coat had him standing straighter than ever, and dude. He’d do him right now.
Brandy came out from behind his golden partition and—
“What? Is there something wrong?” Brandy feathered his hands over the waistcoat and looked over his shoulder into the full-length mirror spitting back his . . . reflection. His glorious reflection.
They were alone, the valet having run out to lock their phones away in the next room. A small window had been cocked, letting in a stream of cooler air, but still Zach’s skin was suffused with warmth.
Brandy looked amazing. His eyes with the navy and silver at his throat were . . .
“Zach?”
“Ah, yep. Ready when you are.”
They entered the ballroom halfway through a dance. A blur of billowing dresses and sharp tailoring, twelve people were lined up dancing something old-school and wickedly awesome, and some of the guys looked familiar. “Hey, aren’t those actors from Ask Austen?”
Brandy crowded close to hear him over the musicians at their backs. “We have a wardrobe department full of Regency dress and these guys are all familiar with ballroom behaviour. Adds to the authenticity of the evening.”
Zach smiled. No doubt Brandy had worked hard to help, he was always helping. He looped his arm around Brandy’s like a lady might a gentleman’s back then, and let himself be ushered through the crowd to where Cameron was using the lapels of another man’s jacket to clean his glasses. The man watched Cameron with the sort of fondness that reminded him of Brandy. All sparkly-eyed and kind.
Cameron slipped his glasses back on and smiled, and Zach counted on the sparkly-eyed man swooping down for a kiss—
But Cameron rose on his toes to deliver it. “I’m thinking the same, Henry.”
Brandy cleared his throat. “‘While I was in love, I was the happiest man on earth.’”
Cameron spun toward them, grinning. “Wizard of Oz. The Tin Woodman.”
He pulled Brandy into an embrace, and Zach suddenly recollected Brandy’s ugly Oz Tie. Only, it didn’t seem quite so ugly now? Not that he’d ever encourage Brandy to wear it, but like . . .
Brandy wore his love for his brother around his neck.
He pictured him at his door wearing the Tin Man monstrosity and . . . the memory wrapped around him like a hug.
