A six part Blog Story from the combination that brought you the Hearts of England anthology!
I proudly present ... *drumroll* ...
The Party
Blurb: Henry and Jack
had thought nothing could ever drive them apart. They were wrong. Three months
have passed since Jack walked out of the home they shared, and Henry had been
too stupid to take back the hurtful things he'd said.
[Chapter One by RJ Scott is HERE]
Chapter Two - by Chris Quinton
Emotional blackmail from his mother had forced Jack into a smart
charcoal suit, burgundy shirt and toning tie. The first person he saw was
Henry, in a blue sweater that would match the colour of his eyes, and jeans.
Damn him. And of course, Georgina Parry was there with him, hanging onto
Henry's arm like a tentacled limpet. Jack turned away from the sight and stared
out of the window. Calm and collected,
remember? Doesn't matter if you're feeling as if your heart's been ripped out
of your chest. Georgina, daughter of Don Parry—sorry, Sir Donald Parry, OBE—was
twenty-eight, unattached, lovely, and the indulged only child of a very
influential man. Parry had received a knighthood in the Royal Birthday Honours
List in the summer, for services to neurosurgery and research. Cutting edge
stuff—he snorted bitterly at his pun—in Henry's field of expertise. At the same
time, Henry had landed a position in Parry's team in Birmingham's Queen
Elizabeth Hospital.
The Lewises had thrown a party to celebrate their friend's rise in the
social hierarchy, and Henry's new career under him. Emily loved entertaining,
thoroughly enjoyed the whole nightmarish organising and staging. She'd been
best friends with Good Old Don's wife, Caroline—and Jack's own mother—since
their first days at school. But college, university and then his job had kept
Jack himself out of the Parrys' circles. Until that party.
Henry had introduced him to the new knight, and Parry had been pleasant,
welcoming. He'd shaken Jack's hand, Caroline had air-kissed his cheek and
Georgina had beamed at him. Like everyone else in their circle of friends, they
knew that Henry and Jack were gay and together. It wasn't a problem, socially
or professionally. But Jack's choice of career was. And Henry had stood by and
said nothing when first Parry, then his daughter, had scorned him. Oh, he'd
looked uncomfortable, irritated, but had remained silent.
And that was the beginning of the end.
"Hi, Bones," said a familiar voice. He glanced round to see
Tim Elliott standing at his shoulder. Very close. "Long time, no see.
How's it going with the ankle biters?" Once he'd been a spotty, plump
child. The adult Tim was good-looking and knew it. His dark hair was
immaculate, his goatee and moustache perfectly trimmed, giving him a rakish
charm few could resist. When Jack was a gangly school kid and Tim an overweight
one, Jack hadn't liked him. The feeling hadn't changed over the years.
"Evening, Porks," he responded, using a childhood nickname in
his turn.
"I think we've both outgrown those labels," Tim said, smiling
with all his teeth. "You're looking good, Jack. Made it to Headmaster
yet?"
"Nope." Tim's hand landed on his hip and Jack stepped away
from the contact. "I don't want it."
"No ambition?" Tim tut-tutted annoyingly. "Surely you
won't spend the rest of your life in a classroom trying to educate the little
monsters?" Tim moved closer, crowding Jack into the window alcove, and
once more he put his hand on Jack's hip, sliding it back and down over Jack's
buttock. That was the last straw. Then Jack looked up to see Henry frowning at
them from across the crowded room. Anger rose, and he balled his hands into
fists.
"Timothy," he said quietly. "If you don't take your hand
off my arse in the next few seconds, I will punch your lights out."
Tim started to laugh, but quickly reconsidered and backed off, raising
his hands with a placating smile. "Can't blame a man for trying. Come on,
give me a break, Jack. I've been keen on you for years. Why don't we—"
"Fuck off," Jack said succinctly. "Not interested."
Tim scowled. "You think he'll take you back? Not a chance, Bones.
He's a high flyer these days—got Don on his side, and Georgie's hot for him.
Didn't you know he's bi?"
Jack pushed past him with enough force to rock Tim on his heels, and
forged a path to the buffet table. As usual it was laid out in sections of
sweet and savoury. Inevitably, artistic arrangements of salmon and of prawns
featured strongly. Jack winced and made a fast turn towards the door. It was
time for a strategic retreat.
* * * *
Three months weren't anywhere near long enough for Henry to forget how
stunning Jack looked in a suit. Or in shabby tee-shirt and cut-offs. Or, even
better, nothing at all. The shock of seeing him was enough to distract him from
trying once again to free himself from the girl who insisted on clinging to him
as if he was some kind of trophy. He'd known her too long to stand on any kind
of ceremony.
"Georgie, let go of me for Christ's sake!" he hissed. "I
am not your boyfriend!"
"Yet." Her smile was predatory.
"Not going to happen. Gay, remember?"
"Not the way I remember it." She smirked. "The den we
made in the old willow tree? Forgotten that, have you?"
"Wiped from my mind," he snapped. "The one and only time
I met up with a girl's bits."
"We were twelve," Georgina pointed out. "It's probably
time you tried it again, Hen."
"No." He reached past her and tapped his mum lightly on the
arm. "Mum, did you invite him?"
She turned with a fond smile. "Jack? Of course, dear. We thought it
was time you two actually talked to each other. This seemed like the ideal
opportunity."
Involuntarily, Henry's gaze searched the room and homed in on Jack. He
was over by the far window, standing far too close to Tim.
"Damn it!" he growled, turned on his heel and headed for the
door, shaking off Georgie in the process.
"No, dear," he heard his mother say. "Let him go."
The study offered Henry a much needed haven, stacked though it was with
scores of coats, hats and scarves. Someone had provided a long rail on wheels,
probably borrowed from the village hall by the vicar. It and its solid wall of
hanging coats made the perfect barrier between his dad's favourite chair and
the rest of the room. And the door. Henry slumped into the chair and rubbed his
hands over his face. God, I want you
back, love. But he didn't have the first idea how to go about it. Nor was
he the only one at fault. Six of one, half a dozen of the other...
The door opened and closed, and someone sighed. The coat rail moved,
and, "Oh, shit." Jack's voice, sounding tired and slightly broken.
Henry sprang to his feet, facing his ex-lover.
"Sorry," Jack said before he could speak. "You're waiting
for someone. I'll clear out of your way."
"You're not in my way," Henry replied quickly. "Jack—"
"No? You sure you want the lowly primary school teacher hanging
about while you screw your boss's daughter?"
"No! I'm not—she isn't— Fuck you!" It was too much. Jack was
too close, the scent of his aftershave a subtle warmth in the air. Too familiar
and necessary. Henry lunged forward
and cannoned into Jack. Their mouths met in a devouring kiss, full of heat,
hunger, and aching loneliness. But all too soon Jack stiff-armed him away.
"No, sod it!" he panted. "You don't have the right to do
that any more!"
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And while you're on the ARe site, take a look at all my other titles HERE...
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