Page 19 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

Jeremy stood beside the table, and when Derrek paused to stare at the breakfast, he smiled and gestured to everything he’d created.

Something prickled and blossomed deep in Derrek’s chest. It was an old emotion, something he hadn’t felt since Joseph had died. It lifted him and made him feel like Jeremy had poured warm honey through his insides.

“I wish it could be more,” Jeremy said, sliding easily into one of the chairs and gesturing for Derrek to take the other, “but that will have to wait until after we’ve been to market.”

It took a moment for Derrek to propel himself forward again. The scene before him was so endearing and the emotions swirling within him were so potent that he didn’t know what to do with himself at first.

Once he cleared his throat and joined Jeremy at the table, the momentary feeling of swirling through the clouds subsided and he felt more like his randy, teasing self again.

“This looks perfect for a bright spring morning,” he said, reaching for the teapot so that he could pour for both Jeremy and himself. He hoped the tea was better than it had been the other day in Jeremy’s rooms.

“Er, Derrek, it is decidedly gloomy outside, not bright at all,” Jeremy said, offering Derrek the crock of butter that had been among their Chameleon Club supplies.

“Everything is bright with you around, dove,” Derrek said, winking.

He loved the way Jeremy blushed at the slightest compliment. He loved the fussy way Jeremy set to work making sure that their meager feast was to Derrek’s liking. And he loved the lush curve of Jeremy’s backside once the meal was done and the man got up to clear their things. What he wouldn’t do to that backside if given half a chance!

“I do not suppose the market will be set up this early,” Jeremy said as he worked cleaning up. “We might have to busy ourselves this morning. I brought a bit of work from the shop to get done, neckcloths that need hemming and the like, to occupy myself.”

“What really needs to be done is clearing out the garden,” Derrek said. “We will probably only be here a short time, but we could at least pull out the weeds and make certain the beds are tidy.”

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about tidying garden beds,” Jeremy said with a slightly breathless laugh as he came back to the table to take the last of the breakfast things Derrek had finished with.

“Afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?” Derrek teased him, twisting in his chair so he could watch Jeremy’s furtive actions. The man had definitely given himself blue balls rather than relieving himself earlier. He would regret it for the rest of the day.

“It isn’t that I’m afraid of hard work,” Jeremy explained. “It is just that I have no idea which end of a garden is up.”

Derrek nodded as he came to a decision then pushed himself to stand. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand to Jeremy. “I’ll teach you. On a morning like this, the soil will be nice and soft, the worms and snails near the surface, and the weeds easy to pull.”

“I—” Jeremy hesitated, staring at Derrek’s hand for a while. Then he took a breath, set aside the towel he’d been clearing dishes with, and took Derrek’s hand, saying, “Very well. Teach me.”

A rush of lust, and something purer, pulsed through Derrek. If Jeremy needed a teacher, he would offer his services until they were both satisfied. The funny thing was that he meant those words to be true for gardening as well as bedsport. He meant them in every way they could be meant.

“You will enjoy gardening,” he said, taking Jeremy through the house, gathering up their coats on the way, then heading outside. “In fact, I would wager that you will fall in love with it. In no time at all, you will be studying the names and growing times of all the flowers of England, touring other people’s gardens, and purchasing a house of your own outside the city so that you can build your very own garden.”

“I doubt I would ever live outside of London,” Jeremy said, glancing around the fresh but tangled garden beds in front of the cottage. “For one thing, you’re in London.”

They both froze as the implication of Jeremy’s words sprung to life between them. Once again, Derrek felt that warm, magnetic feeling in his chest.

“That is to say,” Jeremy corrected himself in a rush, “everyone I know is in London. The Chameleon Club is in London. I wouldn’t want to move away from all the people I know and care about.” He blushed harder and stammered on with double the awkwardness as he said, “I mean, I care about you as a friend. A new friend, but definitely a friend. I would not want to leave you behind so?—”

“Shush, dove,” Derrek said smiling. He realized he still held Jeremy’s hand and squeezed it before letting go. “It’s called base, animal attraction. Some people are just drawn to each other. I am happy with our fledgling friendship, too, and you saw my body’s reaction to you this morning, as I saw yours.”

Jeremy went red enough to rival the roses that likely grew in the estate’s gardens.

“It doesn’t have to be anything more or less than that, though,” Derrek finished. “Men react to other men.” He shrugged, and since Jeremy was clearly out of his depth, he pretended to ignore the glowing attraction between them by saying, “Now, I thought I spotted a garden shed out here somewhere. Let’s see if it has what we need to clear away the weeds.”

Jeremy relaxed slightly, but he was still on edge as they set about their morning chore. Derrek had to admit that he was pleased by the close feelings between them. They were embers only, but every friendship, regardless of what it evolved into, had to begin somewhere. The sprouts of connection between the two of them only made Derrek more determined than ever to keep Jeremy safe from whoever had put a price on his head, and if it took a much longer period of hiding than he’d originally thought, that would be perfectly satisfactory to him.

Seven

Jeremy puttered through the garden throughout the rest of the morning in a state of utter disbelief. He was mortified at the way he’d made such a fool of himself by waking up in a state, rutting against Derrek’s side, if his memory of the moment of waking was correct. He’d warned Derrek that the two of them sleeping in one bed would present problems, but not even he had dreamed that he would throw himself at Derrek like that.

It helped nothing that Derrek was so accommodating about the situation, nor that he had been in the same aroused state. In fact, Jeremy was fairly certain Derrek had found the entire situation amusing, to say the least. In too many ways, that made it all so much worse, despite Derrek’s insistence that these things happened.

These things might have happened, but they did not generally happen to Jeremy, nor did they happen in such a way that made him feel stirrings of affection where there should be only embarrassment, or curiosity where he should be restrained. And those were among the milder of his emotions.

The worst of it was that he could still feel the release that never happened reverberating through him, reminding him that it wanted expression, as he followed Derrek’s lead in the garden.

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