Page 51 of A Simple Mistake
Jack frowned.He’d expected his lover to be more eloquent than that, but all he got was a strange vibe, half want, half frustration.They teased each other, but they’d never had phone sex, or sex over Skype, so Jack couldn’t tell whether that was Gareth’s problem or whether something else was wrong.He grabbed his tablet and slid his legs out from under the low table.“I’m gonna crash,” he said nonchalantly.
“At ten in the morning?”
“Yeah, well… we had some interesting times.”Jack tossed the tablet onto the pillow and stripped the deep green pants off, keeping well in sight of the camera.“When it rains over here, it really rains,” he said as he stretched out on the futon, turning on his side to face the small screen.“I’ve never seen so much water.Like driving through a sheet of glass.And pitch black.”
“Why were you even out in that?”
“Long story.Not for general consumption.”Jack grinned at the gorgeous man on his screen.“So you like my hakama.”
“I don’t.I told you I wanted them off you, didn’t I?”
“Well, they’re off now…”
“Don’t tease.That’s just evil.”
“Who says I was teasing?”Jack reached for the screen, intending to tilt it, so Gareth got the best possible view.
Then it clicked.
Gareth’s growl.The way he half-whispered his words.“You’ve got a houseful of kids, haven’t you?”
“I’m in a fucking tent!”
“What?”
“You heard.”
“How?No, fuck how.Why?”
“We’re camping.Conrad’s idea.”
“Of course.”Jack could see that he needed to have words with Aidan.Though how the lawyer could know that Min would send pictures of a barefoot Jack to Gareth’s phone… Still, his current case of blue balls, and Gareth’s, if he interpreted the matter correctly, was to be laid at Aidan’s door.And Jack would make him pay for that.
Contemplating pictures of Jack in nothing but deep green hakama didn’t calm Gareth’s libido.But he couldn’t help himself.Whoever had taken the photos—and it was clearly someone Jack had trusted with Gareth’s secure mobile number at some point—was a dab hand with a camera.
Gareth swiped back and forth through the small collection of images of Jack holding a bokken over his head, readying for a strike.Jack straight, tall, and at peace, bokken at his side.Jack airborne, mid-kick or spin.
Block, strike, calm, attack, and retreat—Gareth felt as if he were watching Jack perform a serene, deadly dance.
The sequence was hypnotic, and Gareth knew what he wanted to do with the photos the moment he returned home.With other parts of the house drawing his attention, he hadn’t yet spent much time or effort on personalising his office.The wall opposite his desk, for example, was entirely bare—but it wouldn’t stay that way for much longer.
Gareth could see it in his mind: Jack dancing across his wall, framed by ivory parchment and narrow strips of reddish-brown cedar.
Whoever Min was, Gareth owed him.
He interrupted his scrolling, made a quick call and asked for the politest way to express his gratitude in Japanese.A line of script winked from his inbox not long after, and Gareth copied the unfamiliar characters one by one and pasted them into a return message.
He felt very much obliged, indeed.
Gareth could be as single-minded as Jack when he had a goal—or when he was too keyed-up to sleep.He didn’t possess anywhere near Jack’s computer skills, but online shopping—even from his phone—wasn’t beyond him, and he’d spent the quiet hours after Jack’s call ordering large glossy prints and choosing parchment-coloured mounts and slim wooden frames to match the style of his office.With luck, they’d be waiting for him when they reached home.
With his treat organised, Gareth threw himself into their last two days of holidays, answering Nico’s questions on defensive architecture as they toured Castle Drogo, and joining Daniel in his exploration of every artisan food stall they passed.Their last dinner was a feast of local food picked up at a fair, and they had two coolers filled with fresh produce, cheese, and smoked fish to take back home with them.
The weather broke as they passed into Somerset, and Gareth started to count the miles.Not because the first rain in weeks made for greasy roads and nightmare traffic, but because he hoped to find his purchases ready and waiting for him.
Jack’s absence caught him at odd times during the day, a quick, sharp ache like a stubbed toe, soon blending back into normalcy.With it came memories of the frustrating time when Jack had worked undercover.He’d been in London but out of reach, and worry had chewed Gareth’s control ragged.This time around, Jack was half a world away, but he texted daily and called when he could.Gareth felt marginally better about the current situation, but it had also occurred to him—at the tail-end of a sleepless night when their bed felt too expansive to make it comfortable—that should anything happen to Jack, Nico, or Daniel, he’d have only mundane items to remember them by.
For too many reasons, most of them aimed at keeping Daniel and Nico safe, they didn’t take photos of each other—and Gareth was coming to hate that restriction.And then a man he didn’t know had sent him photos of Jack, and the idea of Jack, captured doing something that gave him joy, brought Gareth a wash of joy in turn.Having that joy documented—and on his walls—made Jack and his place in Gareth’s life tangible, and much more real.
