“So, like, you’re happy,” he said, opening the Ask Austen door.
Brandy’s smile only widened as he passed through.
Two co-workers stopped chatting on the stairs to eye their boss up and down, but not . . . not like they thought Brandy had lost the plot or anything. They were . . . they were checking him out.
Zach stepped closer, casually buffering him from more outrageously blatant eye-fucking.
Another colleague sighed.
Hounds! Nobody was going to objectify his Brandy. That was . . . that was sexual harassment or something. They all needed to be fired.
Brandy chuckled at his ear and Zach leaped up two of the steps at the tingling shock it gave him. He rounded on Brandy. “What was that for?”
“You’re . . . growling. At my employees.”
“Well someone ought to! They’re eyeing you like a Michelin star menu, probably imagining how amazing you’ll taste.”
“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be sexy or cannibalistic.”
“Yeah, you better not lock yourself in here with anyone else.”
Brandy stopped a little before his office and stared at him, all shiny eyes and an amused smile to go with them.
Zach fended off another passing eye-fuck. Then took off his fedora and threatened to Frisbee it into some guy’s face for gazing at Brandy’s arse.
“Everyone looks at you!”
“I’m the boss.”
“Have you thought about working from home? Maybe in solitary confinement?”
Laughter. A hand around his bicep. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
“Of course I’m having dinner with you.”
“I meant, go out with me.”
“The pub does steak and cheese pies Mondays. Count me in.” Zach ushered Brandy and his impeccable suit into the office.
Once Brandy was mostly hidden behind all that solid oak, Zach perched on the other side of the desk and let out a relieved sigh.
Then stiffened. Seriously? Why was that very, very cute guy hovering outside the window? This was . . .
“Zachary. You’re growling again.”
Zach leaned over the table, curled a hand in Brandy’s tie and pulled him close.
And kissed him. A flutter of passing lips, and all the fairy dust in Neverland.
He could fly here forever.
He could . . .
What was he doing?
He let Brandy go and jerked back.
A groan escaped; he tugged his fedora over his face. “I’m sorry. I . . .”
He’d done it now. What was left of the cat was out of the bag.
Brandy walked around the desk, step careful, like all Brandy’s decisions. So familiar.
Here came the let-down.
God, his heart was cracking into a million shards, irretrievable splinters ready to weasel through him.
Colour transformed the darkness as Brandy lifted his hat and settled it on his head. A crooked finger lifted his chin and glittering eyes were all Zach could see. “You’ve quite some timing, don’t you?”
The reproof was soft, a hum.
“In my defence, your employees made me do it.”
“Forced you, did they?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. I don’t like them ogling you.”
“Why don’t you like them ogling me?”
“Wow, the kiss wasn’t embarrassing enough? You have to make me say it?”
“Yes. I want you to say it. But I can wait a little longer.” Brandy straightened Zach’s fedora. “Get to work. We’ll talk over dinner.”
Wait a little longer?
Zach looked up sharply.
Brandy was moving back to his desk. Longer?
“Later, Zachary,” he said, without looking up. “Or I won’t get anything done.”
Zach floated into Wentworth and Elliot’s studio.
The couple drew out of a kiss over their adorable retriever and swung their gazes to him.
“So. Turns out the reason the gaggles of boys bother me, is that I am a buffoon.”
One dark and one red eyebrow shot up.
Zach linked his fingers and tucked them behind his head. It was exactly here he’d first met Brandy, that hazy face bowed over him, slowly coming into focus. That cringeworthy Wizard of Oz tie tickling his chest.
“Go on, Zach,” Elliot encouraged.
“Turns out I’ve been . . . territorial. This whole time.”
Elliot coughed over what sounded like his husband snorting.
“Wait.” Zach slowly lifted his head to look at them. “You guys knew?”
Apparently, he was the last to know.
Everyone was very good to tell him so. Had a right little laugh and everything. Deservedly, probably. But they were otherwise all useless human beings who could not, would not tell him if Brandy liked him back.
Which made the whole ride to the peninsula pub fraught with tension. That Brandy would wait a little longer suggested that he did like him back, right? Or had he simply recognised Zach’s feelings before Zach had? And now they had to discuss this, and Brandy would tell him he was flattered, but that he’d prefer if they remained platonic, or—
Brandy parked where they’d swapped underwear and the reflection of the moment gave it retrospective intimacy.
“If you’ve had second thoughts, this can just be dinner,” Brandy murmured.
Second . . . what? “It wasn’t just dinner before?”
Brandy gave him a fathomless side-eye.
“Is this . . . is this a date?” Zach stared, and stared, and—Oh God. It was a date. But then that meant— “You like me?” That came out an octave too high. His gaze darted around the car, the parking lot. “You said you didn’t. Right here you said you didn’t!”
