Men of London 05 - Cross to Bare (23 page)

“Lenny, it’s wonderful to meet you at last. Call me Harry, please. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Brook.” His voice was low and melodious and Lenny wished he had it. He was sure he’d make people melt at the timbre of that deep, rich tone. Harry Hunter cast a glance over at a faintly scowling Brook. “My son is not looking too happy that we are letting out all his secrets. He no doubt wishes to appear aloof and reserved, but I’m afraid that his mother and I believe in calling a spade a spade.” Harry chuckled as Brook glowered at him. “Brook, however, has always been a child who plays his cards close to his chest.”

“Dad, please stop it.” While Lenny couldn’t see Brook blushing, he knew he was. He’d known the man long enough to know that delightful warmth would be flushing his cheeks and making him pink below the deeply bronzed tones of his skin. Lenny had felt it often enough when Brook came in his arms. He tried to suppress that thought manfully. Having a boner in front of his boyfriend’s parents wasn’t something he needed.

He shook Harry’s hand. “I’m glad to meet you both, it’s an honour. Brook has talked about you both often.”

They sat down in the large comfortable couches dotted around the spacious living room and Brook sat down next to Lenny. He was grateful for that. He was still feeling a little frazzled, although both of Brook’s parents seemed terribly accommodating and pleasant. The conversation revolved around Brook’s work, his parent’s activities and talk of Brook’s brothers and sisters, and Lenny was thinking it was all going terribly well. Until Harry Hunter leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers together and regarded Lenny thoughtfully.

“So, tell me, son, what is it with you dressing like a woman? I’m really curious about what that’s all about. I mean, I know this happens and I have no objections—if my son’s happy, I’m happy—but why do you do it? I’m truly interested in the motivations. I study psychology in my spare time and I confess I find it all very fascinating.”

Lenny’s eyes shot open and he stared at Brook in panicked consternation. Brook sat forward, laid his hand on Lenny’s leg and turned to his father.

“Dad,” he said through obviously gritted teeth, “we talked about this. I asked you not to make Lenny uncomfortable…”

His father waved a hand impatiently, cutting Brook off. “Son, I ask because I’m interested, not for any vicarious or ulterior purpose.” He regarded Brook over the top of his glasses. “And I seem to recall you
telling
me not to make Lenny suffer discomfort, not asking me to spare him. We all know how I feel about being told what to do by my children.”

Lenny could imagine. Harry Hunter seemed an affable man but you could see the inner steel and the determination in his demeanour. Something Brook had some of himself.

Brook looked helplessly over at Lenny. “Sorry,” he mouthed and Lenny felt a little better.

Lenny stared evenly at Harry. “It’s simply a part of who I am,” he said. “It started out as something to do when I was at college, to see how women would feel in my clothes. It ended up being more than that when I realised I controlled it; I could better show the other side of me in female clothing, the side that didn’t have to be all manly and macho, and could show something softer. I can’t explain it—it just was. If you’ve talked to Brook about me and my dress habits, then he’s probably told you I didn’t have the best of childhoods, and a father who didn’t like the fact I was gay, and wasn’t the son he wanted—someone brutish and masculine. Laverne allows me to be someone else for a while. I suppose I hide in a way behind that persona, but as much as I hide, I also show other facets of myself.” He shrugged. “By the time I’d realised what I was doing, she was too ingrained in my psyche to let her go.”

Harry nodded wisely. “That sounds like a fairly logical coping mechanism that’s grown into a part of you, something integral. You are the sum of the whole parts, Lenny, you and Laverne, I think.” His kind smile touched something in Lenny and he felt his next words flow out without even realising it.

Lenny swallowed and looked over at Brook. “Yes, that’s true. But the only time I’ve ever considered letting her go was a while ago when I realised I cared more about your son than I did about her. It was a pretty shocking realisation.”

He heard Brook’s gasp of breath and felt his hand clench on his leg.

“Baby, I would never ask you to do that,” Brook said fiercely. For a minute they were the only two people in the room as they gazed at each other. “I could never ask you to give up someone you love, someone who’s part of you. I know I didn’t understand at first but now, seeing you as Laverne, seeing how those other people love and adore you both—I would never be so selfish to ask you to change that part of yourself. You’d be too miserable and after a while, you’d resent me.” He cupped Lenny’s jaw tenderly and that gentle touch did something to Lenny’s heart. “It’s the whole package deal I lo—like.” He corrected himself quickly but Lenny saw Harry’s quick glance at his wife and their shared, soft smile. His insides turned to jelly at that almost declaration of love. It was definitely time to share that sentiment. Tonight, when he got home, Lenny was going to make sure Brook knew exactly how much he cared about him.

A gentle cough brought them both back to the real world. Diane regarded them with gentle affection. “Shell we go in for lunch then? I believe it’s ready and I think after that lovely declaration, you both deserve a drink.” She stood up and bustled out of the room. Harry stood up too and did something quite unexpected. He reached out and enfolded Lenny in a strong hug.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he murmured in Lenny’s ear as Brook watched wide-eyed. “I can see my son is in good hands with you.”

He released Lenny, who had a lump in his throat and a strange prickling in his eyes. No father figure had ever hugged him like that before. It was a novel experience and one he could grow to like. Harry left the room and now it was only the two of them.

Lenny took a deep breath. “Thanks for that,” he said to Brook. “I didn’t mean to share that right here and now, but your dad has this knack of pulling things out from inside…”

The fierce, possessive kiss Brook bestowed on him made his toes curl and other parts jump to attention. He was boneless when Brook let him go.

Brook’s breathing was laboured, his eyes heavy lidded. “Come on,” he said huskily as Lenny tried to catch his breath. “Before we do something really stupid in my parents’ house.” He propelled Lenny towards the open door that led to the dining room. “I need a drink.”

Lenny was quite happy when he could sit down at the long dining table draped with a chintzy red tablecloth and hide the evidence of his arousal under both the cloth and the napkin. He had a feeling it was the safest place to be even if his boyfriend sat next to him staring at him innocently while his fingers tantalisingly brushed Lenny’s leg or arm. Lenny sighed heavily while trying manfully to eat his artfully arranged veal and vegetables. It was going to be a long lunch.

*****

“Your parents are really something. You’re lucky to have them.” Lenny sat comfortably in the armchair back at Brook’s place, as he idly channel surfed, trying to find something to watch that wasn’t the eight o’clock news. It was too depressing hearing what was going on in the real world.

Brook stood in the kitchen, apron wrapped around his waist as he pottered in there making them dinner. The lunch had gone well; there had been no more embarrassing questions, and when they’d gotten home, they both had been feeling peckish. Brook had decided to make eggs Benedict. Having been banished from the kitchen, Lenny was sitting with his second glass of wine and watching the TV images flicker by. He still felt a little overwhelmed about today. Meeting Brook’s parents, having to explain how he felt about Laverne, admitting he’d given a thought to giving her up and hearing what in his mind had nearly amounted to a declaration of love from his boyfriend…he sighed. Not to mention that tonight somehow he was going to tell Brook exactly how he felt about him. Yes, it might be in bed after making love, but that was as good a place as any in his opinion.

Strong hands landed on his shoulders and Lenny curled into them as his aching shoulders were massaged. He felt the soft press of lips on his hair.

“Tired?” Brook’s voice was husky. “Dinner won’t be a minute, just heating the sauce. Then we can eat.”

“Mmm, sounds good.” Lenny closed his eyes as hands eased the stress in his muscles. He gave a whimper of disappointment when they were pulled away.

Brook chuckled. “I need to check the sauce. I heard your stomach rumble, you must be hungry.”

“That meal at your folks’ was good but there wasn’t enough of it,” Lenny murmured. “I mean all this haute cuisine stuff really does my head in. You get a few strategically placed bits of random food artfully arranged on a plate, dribbled with fancy coulis or whatever they call it, that wouldn’t satisfy a rabbit.”

His stomach was much happier later that evening after a full plate of tasty food, another glass of wine and a half a bar of chocolate as he and Brook lay snuggled together watching
True Detective
on Netflix. Lenny had a real thing for Matthew McConaughey and his sexy Texan accent, and even sexier arse and shoulders.

He was dozing while dreaming of the pliant Matthew spread face down in front of him, naked and willing—because a man can fantasize even if he’s in a committed relationship—when Brook interrupted his fantasy.

“Babe?”

“Uh-huh?” Lenny said sleepily, only slightly peeved he hadn’t gotten yet to the good part where he took Matthew roughly.

“Were you serious today when you said you’d been thinking of stopping being Laverne—for me?”

Lenny opened his eyes and struggled to sit up from where he’d obviously been drooling on Brook’s shoulder. He reached out a hand and patted the wetness apologetically. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Brook stared down and shrugged. “It’s cute when you do that. Did you hear what I said?” His voice was hesitant, something Lenny wasn’t used to, and he nodded.

“Yes, I heard you, and yes, I was serious about it. I’m not saying it would have been easy, but if it ever came to a choice between having you in my life and Laverne out of it…” He swallowed. “I figured it would be
hasta la vista
Laverne.”

Brook stared at him and Lenny stared back. “What about the business, Debussy’s?” Brook asked softly. “She’s who Debussy is, after all. How could you think of doing that and keeping the business the way it is?”

Lenny sighed deeply. “
I’m
the business, Brook,” he acknowledged. “Me, the
man
behind the wig and the fake boobs. It’s
my
designs,
my
talent and
my
drive that’s got me where I am. Laverne is the figurehead, sure, but I knew if she wasn’t there, I’d still be, and I’d have to think about how best to manage that.”

He had a sudden sinking feeling and wondered if he might be forced to make a choice after all, despite Brook’s vehement declaration earlier he’d never ask him to. Despite his brave words, Lenny knew giving up Laverne would be extremely tough.

His fears were proved groundless a minute later when Brook reached out and drew him in for a kiss that engulfed him, absorbed him and heated his limbs and other parts like soft licks of flame. Brook’s lips parted Lenny’s, his tongue took over possession of his mouth and his hands slid under his tee shirt and grasped hold of the warm flesh tightly, so tightly Lenny moaned in pleasure and pain. He was pushed back against the couch, Brook’s body on his, his lover’s hardness grinding against his and Lenny simply gave in to being mauled and ravaged and loving every minute of it.

When Brook pulled his mouth away and stared down into his face, his lips were swollen, his eyes wondering. “Why?” he whispered. “Why would you do that for me?”

Lenny heaved a shuddering breath and gazed into Brook’s brown eyes, eyes that searched Lenny’s face, as if he was looking for an answer that he wanted but wasn’t sure he was about to get.

Time to tell him the truth. I suppose one of us has to go first.

“It’s what you do for someone you love,” he murmured, tracing Brook’s cheek with unsteady fingers. “You compromise, give something up, if it means keeping them.”

Brook gazed at him, eyes wide, and Lenny felt the first tendril of fear.

Thundershit, please don’t tell me I’ve got this all wrong. That he doesn’t feel the same way. I don’t think I could cope with that. Say something, baby. The right something. Please.

Brook stood up and held out his hand. Lenny stared at it in confusion, then up at Brook. “Are we going somewhere?” he asked uncertainly.

What about Lenny’s damn declaration of love?

Brook nodded, his face tender. “I need to show you something. Come on.”

Lenny took Brook’s hand, and he pulled Lenny to his feet then led him through the flat to the back bedroom. The last time Lenny had seen the room it had been full of boxes, papers, various pieces of old gym equipment and basically a real mess. He hadn’t been in there since.

When Brook threw open the door, and pushed Lenny inside, he gasped. It was now a spacious room, light and airy, with grey and burgundy curtains, a dressing table complete with mirror, a chair and a huge cupboard that stretched the whole length of one wall. On the other wall, there was a floor-to-ceiling mirror with strategic lights on either side that looked as if they could be turned on at will. It was like a starlet’s dressing room.

Lenny gaped and turned to look at Brook. “Have you taken up modelling or something—is that what this is for? I mean, don’t get me wrong I think you’d make a great model, but I want to get to see you in the outfits myself—”

His rambling was cut off by the firm press of warm fingers against his mouth.

“It’s for you,” Brook said softly. “Well, for Laverne. I thought you needed somewhere to get dressed in the mornings without having to hang stuff up everywhere, and steam the creases out of it, or go home first in the small hours of the morning. Like you said—it’s what you do for someone to love. You learn to compromise and live with every bit of who they are, no matter what.”