Page 60 of The Moon Also Rises
“We are,” he says then he turns one of his wrists but keeps his hands on my arms. “Jeez, they’re twenty minutes early. I thought I had plenty of time for us to do that ducks and fucks thing.”
My body temperature changes and my eyes flick very quickly to the bed beside us. “Fucks thing?”
“Getting our ducks in a row. I wanted to check you’d be okay with hand-holding and stuff like that again. Like at the wedding,” he explains and his hands slip down my arms, so slowly I’m aware of the glide of warmth down my skin.
I want to take a moment to think about the perfect reply. How can I tell him I’m more than okay with that? How can I tell him yes without sounding too eager? Do I say please? Do I thank him?
But there isn’t time for this inner deliberating. Lionel and Luigi are waiting for us and we have already disappeared for many moments longer than it takes to walk my short corridor ten times.
“Yes, let’s be like we were at the wedding,” I say with a quick nod, ignoring how my mind drifts to a very specific part of the wedding – those kisses under the moonlight.
“Okay.” Rami returns my nod and somehow one of his hands is now holding mine while his other arm reaches for the box again. “Let’s go face the music.”
“Actually, I’m relying on you to choose some music. I’m assuming you may know how to do that, Mr DJ?”
Rami holds still for a moment despite me reaching for the door handle and yanking him in that direction. I look back but see him smiling. “I can do that,” he says and when I go to leave the bedroom, his hand still in mine, he follows.
Chapter Eighteen
Rami
If I’d thought about it a bit more, I shouldn’t be surprised that Jake is an excellent host. While he’s as sarcastic as they come and is unnecessarily scathing about anything remotely displeasing, he’s also a senior director of an independent luxury hotel brand and spent many years managing luxury resorts. I’d always known he was capable at his job – I’ve had to listen to enough conversations between him and his staff, suppliers, contractors and senior management – but I’d never have guessed how practical and capable he is, and how effortless he makes it look. Not to mention how much I know he’s struggling with his hay fever, a fact I am reminded of when I see him subtly move the vase of roses I assume Lionel and Luigi gave him onto a side table in the living area, further away from the small round dining table we are seated at.
I also didn’t know how good he would look doing it. There is something about the way he shimmies around his kitchen that is almost like dancing. There is something about the way he holds a conversation with warm eyes, all the while pouring drinks, like he couldn’t be happier to have people in his home. There is something about how relaxed he looks describing the food he clearly spent a lot of time on, how he talks animatedly when he explains his wine choices, and how wide and bright his smiles become when he’s talking about some of his interior décor choices. In short, a relaxed, social and proud Jake is a very, very attractive Jake.
Conversation flows nicely through dinner, dominated mostly by Luigi and Lionel talking about their wedding and upcoming honeymoon. At various moments, I steal a glance at Jake and expect to see a tense jaw, a strained smile or maybe even a frown as the happy couple effectively gush about how perfect their day was and how excited they are not only for their trip to Bora Bora but for the rest of their lives together. But I don’t see it. If anything, Jake looks nothing but pleased for them, and indeed he often says as much without even a whiff of sarcasm.
“That was delicious, Jake,” Luigi says as he dabs at the corner of his mouth with his napkin upon finishing his main course. “Please tell me you at least ordered in the couscous and side salad. Even they were delicious enough on their own, not even mentioning that exquisitely melt-in-my-mouth lamb.”
“I would be the first to admit a cheat,” Jake says after a sip of water. “But no, it was all my handiwork. And incredibly easy, I have to say. The tagine did all the hard work with the lamb, and I used a separate Dutch oven for your tofu.” He nods at me. “And the couscous and salad are simple once you have the right herbs. I only know which are the right ones thanks to Samira, our head chef in one of the restaurants of the resort I worked in a few years back.”
“Oh, yes, in Marrakech,” Lionel says. “Where you went, after Crete.”
There’s a quick pause in the conversation as Jake and Lionel share a look but a beat later, a big grin fills Jake’s features. “Yes, but I was only there a short summer season before I was asked to work for Status’ HQ. Actually, I was already working for them – they owned the resort in Marrakech – but then they approached me for a position at headquarters and the rest is history.”
“Would you have kept working abroad had they not offered you the UK Director role?” Lionel asks and I am suddenly very curious about Jake’s answer.
“Possibly,” his eyes turn down as if in consideration, “but I was also pretty ready to stop doing seasonal work and I’d been thinking about coming back to the UK.”
“You were ready to settle down?” Luigi asks and none of us miss how his hand slides over to find Lionel’s.
“God, no,” Jake answers and then I see the moment when that doesn’t quite add up considering he’s sat next to his supposed boyfriend. I mimic Luigi’s motion by reaching for Jake’s hand and interlocking his fingers with mine.
“This man will never be ready to settle down completely,” I say with a lightness in my voice. “Believe me, I’m trying.”
Lionel looks around the room as he speaks. “For what it’s worth, Jake, you seem very settled. You have a great place, a great job, and a good man.”
Jake coughs and reaches for another mouthful of water. I notice then he’s barely touched the red wine he poured for himself earlier. “I’m certainly very happy to not be doing seasonal work. You probably are too, Lionel?”
“Yes, indeedy-do. It was fun for a while, but it never really felt like real life, if that makes sense. It was like living in a bubble.”
“Which was fun… sometimes,” Jake adds, a faraway expression on his face, but his eyes firmly on Lionel.
“Yes.” Lionel swallows, his gaze holding Jake’s. “It was.”
There’s something about this exchange that makes me sit up straighter and shift my chair closer to Jake, and also, most bizarrely of all, bring our joined hands onto my thigh. Jake is just as surprised as I am as it snaps his attention my way.
“I for one am very glad that Jake is no longer doing seasonal work,” I say.
