“Over there,” Angela gestured toward a table that, while not secluded, at least didn’t have people sitting nearby. When they were seated, Angela raised her brow and waited expectantly for Nash to talk.
“I just gave my notice,” he blurted. “I wanted to tell you before you heard it from the rumor mill.”
She patted his hand. “That wasn’t unexpected, but thank you.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s good to be back in the loop.”
“I don’t know why I hid that I was dating Myles from you, and I’m sorry for that.”
Angela waved away his concern. “I’m over it. I imagine you were protecting his privacy or reputation or something since his divorce wasn’t final yet. You did make a point of planning to meet me for lunch the Monday after your accident, and I expect that was to tell me about the engagement, so you’re forgiven for that part, too. Not your fault it all got outed before you had the chance to tell me.”
“The…uh…” Nash took a deep breath and stabbed nervously at his salad. “The wedding is back on, too. I might never remember that missing time, but I already know that I made the right decision, so I told him I want to move forward with it.”
“In just three weeks?” Angela burst out laughing. “Actually, never mind. That reminds me of one of our last conversations.”
“Oh?” Nash sighed in relief. “I was worried you and Harley would think that was rushing things since I couldn’t actually remember more than three weeks with Myles.”
“Not worried about Oliver?”
“I hardly know him.” Nash shrugged. “I lived with them for four months so I feel bad about that, but I don’t remember knowing him.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, he’s good for Harley. Has a calming effect on him. Although…” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m pretty sure he’s the reason they’re being all hush-hush about giving me any details. They say it’s up to you to spill the beans if you want me to know, which is stupid, since you don’t remember anything. Nonetheless, I like the guy, and I’m glad they’re getting married, too.”
“What? Harley didn’t tell me that! They haven’t even been together six months.” Nash dropped his fork and stared at Angela. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”
Angela laughed again. “No way. Pot, kettle much? Anyway, Harley said you’re the one who convinced them they should get married.”
“Wow.” Nash took a bite of his salad. He’d have to make more of an effort to get to know Oliver. Again. “So tell me about this conversation.”
“What conversation?”
“You just said that the three-week thing reminded you of one of our last conversations.”
“Oh. Yeah, right. I gotta tell you, either you’re a master liar, and I mean professional scary-ass level liar, or there’s something hinky about your relationship.”
“I’m a shitty liar, you know that. What do you mean ‘hinky’?”
“You were sitting across from me, just the week before your accident, telling me about how pathetic your love life was. It was legit. Anyway, we got to talking about past relationships and how we’d always known almost instantly whether it would ultimately work or not.”
“We were a couple of fools…I guess I wouldn’t mind declaring a Mulligan.”
“I think…” Had they fought? Broken up for a time? Nash nodded absently. “Something Myles said makes me think we might’ve been going through a bad patch about then. I guess we figured out we were being idiots and loved each other too much for that crap.”
Angela squinted the way she did when she was concentrating on something. She picked up her water bottle and took a drink, then pointed it at Nash.
“That makes sense, ’cause I remember Dr. B was sitting behind you, but you didn’t realize it. He overheard us, and the look on his face when he got up and stared at you was priceless. I thought right then that he looked like someone who had a big ol’ crush on you. You got totally pissed when I suggested it. I think you were hurting. You both were.”
“Maybe that triggered us getting back together.”
Angela smirked. “Glad I could be of service.”
It was so hard not to roll his eyes. “Whatever.”
Angela took a drink from her water bottle as “Dream Lover” started playing on Nash’s cell phone. Angela snorted and covered her face, choking.
Nash grinned. “Lucky that wasn’t carbonated. That shit’s worse coming out your nose.”
She flipped him the bird as he answered the call.
“Hello! I’m still in the cafeteria with Angela if you’re free for lunch.”
Nash winked at Angela as she snagged his napkin to mop up her face. Winking was allowed.
“Sorry,” Emmitt replied. “Busy schedule today. I had someone fetch me a sandwich. I wanted to see how your morning went.”
“It went just fine. I got my letter of resignation turned in without any problems.”
“No regrets?”
“None.” He’d recently started looking into switching to a job in a physician’s office, so he’d have been leaving the hospital, anyway. Not so recently, come to think of it, since that recollection was now almost five months old.
“I was thinking,” Emmitt said. “Maybe we could go out to dinner tonight, just the two of us.”
“Yeah? That sounds fantastic.”
“Make up for leaving you hanging like that last night.” There was laughter in Emmitt’s voice.
Nash snickered. “That was awkward.”
“I truly am sorry.”
“Not your fault. Probably won’t be the last time, either. I’d best get used to that kind of thing.”
“Thank you for understanding. I’d better let you go now. I’ve got about two minutes left to wolf down this sandwich.”
“Love you,” Nash said.
“Love you, too,” came back without any hesitation. Then the call disconnected.
Angela fake gagged and rolled her eyes, which was bullshit. He’d never be able to get away with doing that to her.
“Get over it,” Nash said.
“You know, the change in Dr. B since all this came about is positively mind-blowing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone’s talking about it. He smiles a lot. Heck, this past week he’s been downright…I don’t know…cheery. It’s freaking people out.”
“Yeah?” Nash felt like his grin was spanning ear to ear.
“Yeah.” Angela nodded. “And you’re pretty chipper yourself, so I’m going to give this union my blessing.”
Nash executed a reflexive eye roll before he realized what he was doing. He held his breath while she took a deep one. Then she blew it out and pointed a finger at him. It wasn’t even the finger.
“I’m going to give you that one for free, but it had best not happen again.”
* * * *
“Have you decided?” Emmitt asked, at their server’s approach.
“It’s between the bacon-wrapped pork chops with pancetta and apple cream, and the Metropolitan vegetable stack,” Nash replied. He’d had the veggie stack before. It was a fantastic mix of vegetables including red onion, eggplant, grilled baby zucchini, squash, baby carrots, and a portabella mushroom. The emmental cheese and roasted yellow pepper sauce topping it off were amazing. On the other hand, a hearty meat dish sounded appealing, and the Dijon garlic marinade for the pork chop dinner sounded intriguing.
“They’re both delicious,” Emmitt said. Evidently he was a regular diner at the Metropolitan Grill. “How about you order one, I’ll order the other, and we’ll split them?”
Nash looked up from the menu. “Are you sure? You don’t want a steak or something else?”
“Another time.” Emmitt smiled and nodded to the server as he set down their drink order. “Did you get that?”
“Yes, sir. I can have them plate your orders that way, with the meals split on two dishes, if you’d like.”
“Fantastic. Thank you.”
After the server left, Emmitt picked up his Smoky Met Martini and held it out toward Nash for a toast. Nash lifted his Pear Lemon Drop, and they lightly clinked glasses.
“Here’s to the rest of our lives together,” Emmitt said.
Nash smiled and sipped his drink. The fresh-made sweet & sour, and the fresh lemons added to the Grey Goose Pear vodka and triple sec had long ago made this Nash’s favorite cocktail at the Metropolitan Grill. Emmitt could keep his swanky Belvedere vodka with a splash of Laphroaig 10-year-old Scotch.
“Speaking of which,” Nash said. “I spoke with Harley today. He can arrange an officiant for a week from this coming Saturday like we wanted. He and Oliver will be there, and I invited Angela’s family, too.”
“I called Gil this afternoon and told him about it. He’ll be there with his wife and kids, too. Could you look into having a meal catered in?”
“Sure. How many kids does Dr. Wilson have? Any dietary restrictions?”
“Two, and no. Do you want to talk to Harley about arranging a larger reception down the road? Maybe for early in the summer so our nieces and nephews will be out of school?”
“Yeah? That sounds great.” Nash laughed. “We’ve probably had this conversation before, haven’t we?”
Emmitt grinned and took Nash’s hand. “We haven’t talked about a honeymoon yet.”
“Anywhere but Niagara Falls,” Nash said. He did want to see them at some point in his life, but not for his honeymoon with Emmitt since that’s where he’d planned to go with Sam.
Emmitt’s brows came together briefly, then he nodded in understanding. “I was thinking Europe if you want to wait for summer weather, or somewhere tropical if you’d rather a mid-winter getaway.”
“Seriously? Either would be amazing.” Nash perked up, sitting straighter in his chair. “I’ve never even been outside the continental US before.”
Emmitt rubbed his thumb in slow circles on Nash’s palm. “Get a passport if you don’t have one. I like to travel.”
“Work hard, play hard.” Nash could deal with all manner of repeats of last night’s “coitus interruptus,” as well as the disruptions to plans they could no doubt expect in their lives in exchange for vacations like that.
“Speaking of passports, have you given any thought to what name will be going on it?”
“Oh. No, not yet.” Nash studied their joined hands. Emmitt’s thumb drawing rings was such a simple little movement, yet implausibly sensual. And distracting, but in a good way.
“I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to change mine altogether,” said Emmitt. “But, I would consider a hyphen.”
Nash blinked and pulled his attention away from their hands. “You would?” He shook his head. “No. It’s not a terrible pairing, but not exactly easy on the tongue, either, with three syllables each. Marino-Burlingham? Burlingham-Marino? No, I don’t like it.”
“I just figured, since we’re planning on having children, that it might be a good idea to have a shared name.”
“Oh. Good point.” Nash hadn’t thought of that. It would be simpler, otherwise one of them wouldn’t match their children. Who knew what complications that might cause? With his established practice, it didn’t make sense for Emmitt to go through a name change, but Nash had no professional reason to avoid it. To hell with it. If Nash wasn’t secure enough in their relationship to take his husband’s name, then he had no business going through with the marriage.
“Okay,” Nash said, giving Emmitt’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll do it. I’ll change my name.”
“Nash Burlingham. I like the sound of it.” Emmitt grinned.
“Nash Burlingham. Yeah, It’s got a nice ring to it. Nash Isaac Burlingham.” Nash sighed. “I was thinking about you this afternoon. How unflappable you are, with everything I’ve put you through these past weeks.”
Emmitt shook his head. “I was an emotional wreck on the inside, at least initially, worrying that you’d wonder what the hell you’d been thinking and leave me.”
“No, I wasn’t going to do anything rash. I figured someone who earned ‘Dream Lover’ for their ringtone on my phone deserved the benefit of the doubt, right?”
Emmitt laughed, and his face turned red.
Nash waggled his eyebrows. “I’m looking forward to discovering firsthand why you earned that.”
“Now I’m nervous.” The delighted look on his face, with the extra-wide grin and shining eyes, contradicted his comment.
“I’m not.” Nash tilted his head and peered into Emmitt’s eyes. “Do you have a different ringtone for me?”
“Yeah.” The red blush on Emmitt’s face deepened. “‘Love of My Life’ by Queen.”
“I like that.” Nash smiled. “I’m so sorry for putting you through such an emotional wringer. When did you stop worrying that I might leave you?”
“You took the edge off when you unpacked the living room stuff. But your explanation for your reaction to Percy is what really did it. I know your emotions were on edge due to the chemical imbalance, but the feelings at the root of it—your distress at the thought of losing me—that was genuine.”
“You’re a keeper, Emmitt Burlingham. You’ve seen me at my worst, both physically and emotionally, and you never wavered. There’s a great quote in a scene from the movie Juno—something about how the best thing is to find someone who loves the real you, the good, the bad, and the ugly. No matter what you throw at them they’ll still think the sun shines out of your ass.”
“The sun does shine out of your ass. I’ve seen it.”
Emmitt probably should have lowered his voice for that comment, because a group of women did a wide-eyed collective double-take as they walked by.
* * * *
“Fuck, fuck, Fuuuuck.” Nash threw back his head and groaned. His right hand clutched Emmitt’s ass, pulling him in tight. His left arm flopped where he’d flung it out to the side, trying not to bean Emmitt with the hard shell.
Emmitt buried his face in Nash’s neck and quietly keened as his forearms curled underneath Nash’s upper torso to grip his shoulders for leverage as he heaved his hips forward.
Nash sucked in deep lungfuls of air as wave after wave of exhilarating pleasure ripped through him, mirroring the cock pulsing deep in his ass. His heart thumped, and his breathing sped up as he gasped to catch his breath.
Nuzzling where Nash’s neck met his shoulder, Emmitt hovered for a moment before lifting up to carefully withdraw and dispose of the condom. Nash rolled his head side to side, fighting the lightheadedness enveloping him as he sucked in another mouthful of air.
“Are you okay?”
Nash panted and shook his head. The center of his chest hurt. What was wrong with him now?
“Nash?”
“Can’t breathe,” he wheezed.
Emmitt brought his hands to Nash’s face. Nash shoved them aside, panic overwhelming reason. Goddammit, what was Emmitt trying to do?
“No! Can’t…breathe.”
“Nash.” Emmitt kept his voice calm and controlled. “You’re hyperventilating. I’m going to cup my hands over your mouth and nose. Keep breathing into my hands.”
Hyperventilating? He should have recognized that. Emmitt placed his hands as he’d said. Nash clutched Emmitt’s wrist, and his first few breaths were just as heavy and labored at the others. Slowly, as he took in a bigger percentage of carbon dioxide with his oxygen, his breathing stabilized, and his alarm subsided.
It had felt as if he couldn’t get enough oxygen. In fact, he’d been sucking in too much.
“I’ve never been carried away to the point of hyperventilating before.” Nash snickered. “Or have I? Is this a regular thing?”
“No. This is a first for me, too.”
“I might have to change your ringtone to The Corrs’ ‘Breathless.’”
Emmitt’s answering grin was a bit self-satisfied.
* * * *