Page 2 of Decorated

“Thank you,” Alfie said with a precise nod, setting the folded cardboard box down against the desk. “Is it alright if I take a look around at the front hall?”

“Go right ahead,” Early said with a smile.

Alfie nodded once more, then stepped back into the older-feeling space. The more he looked around at the art-covered walls and the more he peeked down hallways and into side rooms, the more he could see how the modern world had completely eclipsed anything Victorian or older about the house’s interior.

There were modern fixtures everywhere he looked, which included a tall Christmas tree lit with electric lights in the front corner of the hall. At some point, someone had replaced the wainscotting and wooden panels down the long hallway on theleft side of the grand staircase with much more practical plaster and paint, possibly when they redid the electric in the house.

There were two corridors, one on either side of the grand staircase. The refurbished one was busy with people who looked like they were coming and going to classes. Alfie could almost tell which classroom was which by the displays near each door. The walls were decorated with paintings, photographs, ceramic tiles, and even a few Japanese-style masks, all of which had the feel of student work. The hallway on the other side felt more private and was still decorated in an old-fashioned style.

He had just taken a step toward that corridor to have a nose around when a man in a bright, rainbow-patterned shirt and jeans that were shockingly tight came barreling straight into him. On instinct, Alfie twisted to grab the man and to keep him from falling over.

The man let out a grunt as he made impact, then wobbled in Alfie’s arms, like he was too stunned to stand on his own for a second. He wasn’t particularly small or light, but even after careening right into him, he managed to be lithe and graceful.

Well, maybe not graceful, since he’d smashed right into him.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” the guy blurted as he righted himself at last and twisted to face Alfie.

He stopped and melted into a smile as bright as his shirt as he glanced up into Alfie’s puzzled face.

“Are you alright?” Alfie asked, still holding him. He felt like the man would crumple and fall if he let go.

“I am now,” the man said, his smile flashy and hungry.

Alfie ignored the flirting. Yes, he was tall, muscular, attractive, and wearing a uniform. He was well aware of what that did to some people. Especially the sort of man who let the world know he was gay with such abandon in the way he dressed.

He wasn’t nearly as used to having the same sort of instant attraction in return. Especially not to someone who was as loud as the man in his arms was. It wasn’t just the way he wore his sexuality boldly on his sleeve, he was cute, fit, and had the sort of spark that Alfie liked. And those jeans hid nothing.

The moment between them seemed to last a beat longer than it should have before the man’s smile of attraction dropped.

“Shit,” he said again. “I can’t just stand here. He’s going to find me and kill me.”

Alfie let go with a look of alarm, then immediately regretted it as the man bolted for the hallway on the righthand side of the stairs. He obviously had to let the man go, but his instinct to protect overrode his good sense.

“Are you alright?” he asked again but for a different reason entirely as he strode after the man. “Are you in trouble?”

“Oh, no,” the man said with a breathy laugh, his voice managing to be both lilting and masculine, glancing back over his shoulder at Alfie. His playful look dropped again as he went on with, “Well, yes. Kind of. Maybe. Probably. Almost definitely. It’s a long story.”

Alfie paused, knowing it wasn’t any of his business. He should just let the guy get on with things while he waited for Robert Hawthorne and took care of the things he was there to take care of.

He hesitated too long. Before he could wish the man a good day and turn to go back to the office, the man grabbed his arm and yanked him to the side, pulling him into a small alcove under the staircase with him.

“I’m Blaine, by the way,” the man whispered, using Alfie’s body as a shield to block him from whatever was out in the hall. “Blaine Hawthorne.”

“Alfie Spears,” Alfie introduced himself.

He should have introduced himself as Corporal Spears. He should have walked away and left Blaine Hawthorne to whatever he was doing. But he couldn’t. Not when his insides were buzzing with amusement and the need for more.

Then he blinked. “Blaine Hawthorne?” he asked. “Are you related to the family?”

“Yeah, I’m one of the many, many cousins,” Blaine said. “Ssh!”

Alfie’s brow shot up. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had shushed him. He wasn’t sure if anyone ever had. Certainly not in the last ten years, as he’d served his country. It was wild enough that he stood where he was, waiting to see what would happen next instead of extracting himself from Blaine’s tight grip on his arm and walking away.

Blaine leaned out from behind him, as if he were a sheltering tree, glancing back into the front hall like he was waiting for a tank to roll through the door. Alfie couldn’t help but lean and look with him.

“What are we looking?—”

“Ssh!” Blaine silenced him again.

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