Authors: Shira Anthony
Aiden fought his own battle with his emotions as Sam slipped the ring Aiden had worn on his right hand for more than three years onto Aiden’s left hand. He tried to gather his thoughts. They’d both written vows when they’d planned their wedding, but even though Aiden hadn’t read what Sam had written, he knew nothing Sam had just said was scripted.
Aiden took the remaining ring and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. The metal warmed to his touch, as though through its connection to his skin, it became a living thing. Sam, too, had worn the band as a symbol of their promises, never taking it off, even to shower.
After a long moment, he finally garnered the courage to return Sam’s intense gaze. “Sometimes the best things are the hardest to come by. But that just makes them so much better.” He slipped the ring on Sam’s finger as he fought to control his shaking hand. “Sammy,” he said, “I think I knew the first time I met you that we’d end up together. At least I hoped we would. Then when we met five years later, something told me I’d been given another chance. I’m so damn lucky.” Aiden blinked back tears. “I love you so much. Forever isn’t long enough.”
Aiden barely registered Jack’s words as the ceremony concluded. “Congratulations, gentlemen” was the first thing Aiden heard clearly as Sam released him from a crushing embrace.
A
N
HOUR
and a half later, Sam and Aiden sat by the water in Battery Park on the same bench where Sam had proposed to Aiden more than three years before. Aiden took Sam’s hand and kissed his ring. “You were worried I’d be angry with you, weren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Sam looked out over the harbor and pressed his lips together.
“I can’t remember anyone ever doing something more romantic for me.” Aiden paused for a moment, then added, “Well, except the night you proposed to me here.” Aiden leaned over, meaning to kiss Sam’s cheek, but Sam turned and their lips met. Aiden tasted a hint of sweetness from the cake icing. “What would you have done if I’d said no?”
“Tied you up and kept you locked in my dungeon.”
Aiden repressed a smirk. “I could go for that.”
Sam’s cheeks pinked. In reality, they both knew if it ever happened, it would be the other way around, even if in nearly every other aspect of their relationship, Sam took the lead.
“So I know you,” Aiden said as he stroked a thumb over Sam’s lips. “You’ve got something else planned. Do we have time to spend a few hours at the hotel playing newlyweds?”
“Dinner reservations are at eight thirty,” Sam said after kissing Aiden’s palm. He glanced at his watch and added, “That gives us about four hours before we need to get out of bed.”
In the end, they cancelled the dinner reservations and ordered room service. Which, Aiden decided as they lay entangled on the sheets early the next morning, was exactly the way it was meant to be.
“D
AVID
REALLY
didn’t need to spring for first class,” Aiden said as they settled into their seats for the flight to Milan a few days later. Not that he minded the upgrade, but he always felt a little guilty when David did things like that for him.
“He claims there weren’t any other seats.” Sam fastened his seat belt and glanced up at the line of passengers making their way to seats at the back of the plane. “It is Thanksgiving tomorrow. He’s probably not exaggerating.”
“Don’t kid yourself. I’ll bet you there are plenty of seats left in coach. Thanksgiving isn’t that popular a time to fly to Italy.”
Sam nodded, then turned to stare out the window.
“You okay?” Aiden squeezed Sam’s hand. Ever since they’d called off the celebration in Connecticut, Sam had seemed quieter than usual.
“I’m good. Really.” Sam brought Aiden’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I also can’t think of a better reason to call off the celebration than a new baby.”
“Yeah.” Aiden leaned his head on Sam’s shoulder. “So when are we going to tell them?”
“At Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Works for me.”
“You think David will be disappointed?” Sam asked.
“Nah.” Aiden knew David well enough to know he’d be fine with it. And maybe in a few years they’d have the formal ceremony with friends they’d always wanted.
“My name is Natalia. Can I get you anything to drink before takeoff, gentlemen?” the flight attendant asked with a hint of an Italian accent.
“Something bubbly?” Sam asked. “Even soda water would be fine.”
“Are you celebrating something?” she asked.
“Yes. We are.” Aiden fingered the wedding band on his left hand and grinned.
“I just happen to have something that would do quite nicely.” She offered them a knowing smile.
A few minutes later, she returned with two glasses of Champagne. “I hope you enjoy it,” she told them. “And congratulations.”
“Thank you,” they said in unison. She nodded, then disappeared once more.
“Forever, Sammy,” Aiden said as he lifted his glass.
“Forever,” Sam repeated.
Aiden took a sip of the Champagne, then looked up at Sam in surprise. Sam looked just as shocked. “This is really good stuff,” Aiden said. Not that he was a connoisseur, but the Champagne tasted at least as good as the fancy stuff David had served at his last party.
“Aren’t you glad we’re flying Alitalia?” Sam grinned. “Could’ve ended up with a Bud Light.”
Aiden had flown Alitalia enough to know that good French Champagne wasn’t the usual fare, even in first class.
David
, he thought as he repressed a smile. It hadn’t been just the first-class seats he’d taken care of. “I’d have been fine with Bud Light.” He’d have been fine with water as long as Sam was with him.
Married to me, not just
with
me.
“Love you, you know.”
“Back at you, Sammy.” This time, Aiden leaned in for a kiss. Sam tasted like Champagne. Better, even, since he tasted like Sam.
The present
“Y
OU
GOT
married?” Cary blinked his surprise.
“Had to do something with that marriage license,” Sam said with a wink at Aiden. “It’s only good for sixty days, you know.”
“That’s about the best news I’ve heard in a long time,” Cary said as he got up. “Well, except the ‘you’ve got a healthy baby.’” He gave Aiden a long hug and clapped Sam on the back. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Sorry about the change in plans,” Cary added.
“No problem,” Aiden said. “I’m just glad we could get together.”
“Me too.”
Ten minutes later, after everyone had a chance to congratulate Aiden and Sam, Alex and Jules set the turkey and vegetables on the table, and they finally sat down to eat. David smiled happily as Alex began to carve the bird and Jules flitted about the table, making sure everyone filled their plates.
Sam leaned over to Aiden. “I never did say what I was thankful for, you know.”
Aiden laughed. “You didn’t have to.”
D
AVID
SETTLED
into Alex’s arms as they lay in their ancient four-poster in the master bedroom with the curtains around the bed pulled closed. David loved this bed—he and Alex had picked it out on a trip through the British countryside. Alex had jokingly called it their love nest. David had laughed and made a comment about how trite that expression was.
In spite of himself, David had come to think of the bed as just that: a place where he and Alex could hide. A place where he felt safe to be himself. The villa was that, as well, but the bed was his and Alex’s alone. David was sure Alex understood this. Often, after months spent on the road, meeting each other for only a day or two between gigs, he and Alex would come here and just spend the day in bed. Making love, of course, but also reading. Holding each other.
“I know we do this every year,” Alex said with a contented sigh, “but this was probably the best Thanksgiving yet.”
“Yes. I have to admit that as much as I was looking forward to the wedding celebration, I knew I’d miss being here to celebrate the holiday.”
“Things have a way of working out.” Alex kissed David’s hair.
“They do.” David closed his eyes and listened to the beat of Alex’s heart against his ear. The music in his mind was an ethereal blur of sound. Not a melody this time, but the musical incarnation of the sense of well-being and calm reassurance he felt with Alex’s solid warmth next to him. For a few minutes the week before, as Alex had teetered and nearly fallen off the ladder, David had imagined himself alone again. The thought of losing Alex terrified him. He guessed Alex understood this too.
“You knew they’d gotten married, didn’t you?” Alex asked after a few minutes.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just a hunch,” Alex said.
“Yes. I did. I put a call in to Jack Wellons after I got the news about the baby.”
“You know him?”
David chuckled. “Yes, although not well. His father and mine were friends years ago. I read that he’d been appointed judge in the
Wall Street Journal
a few months ago.”
“And you suggested he marry them?” Alex was sitting up now, staring at David, incredulous.
“I did nothing of the sort. It’s hardly my place to make a suggestion like that.” David did his best to appear offended. “I’m not a meddler. I merely set certain things into motion—”
“Knowing how they’d turn out.”
“I guessed,” David admitted as he repressed a grin.
“You truly are a master conductor. Orchestrating weddings, parties—”
“I’m not sure how I should take your use of the word ‘orchestrating.’” David eyed Alex warily. He knew Alex well enough to know there was something else at play in their conversation, an undercurrent.
“A conductor’s job is to coax the orchestra to give life to his vision of the music. They contribute, but it’s
his
vision. Don’t you agree?” Alex’s eyes were full of mischief.
“Indeed. But you’re a soloist.” David smiled.
“That I am.” Alex’s expression was triumphant.
“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?”
“A conductor… even a composer,” Alex said, “gives of himself. He gets pleasure in return.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“But when does anyone do something for him?”
David frowned once more. “I don’t see where this is going.”
Alex pulled David up to a sitting position. “Sometimes it’s nice to have someone do something for you.”
“You do plenty,” David protested.
“Maybe.” Alex reached for David’s chin and brushed his thumb over the edge of it. “But sometimes it’s just not enough.”
“I’m happy. That’s enough for me.” Every word David said was true. He’d almost forgotten what life had been like before Alex. Almost.
“It’s not enough for me.” Alex’s tender kiss immediately erased David’s fears. “So I figured I’d be the soloist this time and take the next step.”
“Step?”
Another kiss. “Yep. I did a little planning of my own.”
David laughed. “What did you do?”
“Turns out the only ones with a New Year’s Eve gig are Jules and Jason,” Alex said with a wicked grin. “And that just happens to be in New York.”
“And?” David prodded, knowing Alex wanted him to press him on
this.
“And I’ve arranged for the
Prelude
to be in port.”
“I thought you said Jules and Jason had a gig?”
“They do.” Alex pursed his lips. “I hired them.”
“
You
hired them?”
“Well, I tried to hire them. They won’t let me pay. But they’ll be playing for the reception to celebrate Aiden and Sam’s wedding.”
“On board?”
“Yep. It’s not the grand ballroom at the estate, but it’s plenty big enough for a reception. I’d actually figured we could have the marriage ceremony there as well, but since Sam and Aiden up and got married….” Alex looked expectantly to David. “Well, what do you think?”
“I think it’s perfect. And you did this all without me knowing.”
“Seems that way.” Alex leaned in and met David’s lips again. “But there’s one more thing.”
“There’s more?” David laughed to see the expression of glee on Alex’s face. He wondered if Alex knew how much he loved him in that moment. Probably. There wasn’t much he could get by Alex. It was part of why he loved him so much.
“Yeah.” Alex reached under his pillow and pulled out a tiny enameled box. David had seen boxes like that at the monthly antiques market that ran along the Naviglio Grande, the oldest canal in Milan. “Here. Open it.”
David looked to Alex for an explanation, but Alex said, “Just open
it.”
David pressed back the tiny latch with his thumb to reveal a red silk pouch inside. He set the box beside him, then released the drawstrings that held the bag closed. He emptied the contents into his open palm: two gold rings with intricate carving. Italian. Very old, judging from the workmanship. Simply stunning.
“Marry me, David.”
David was momentarily speechless. He looked down at the rings. His chest ached and his eyes burned as he struggled to maintain his composure.
“You don’t have to hide from me, you know,” Alex said in a soft voice. “Look at me, David.”
David met Alex’s gaze and forced himself not to look away. Alex shimmered at the periphery of his consciousness. But it wasn’t just Alex’s music he heard this time—there was something more. This was
their
music. Comforting and vulnerable. Passionate and familiar.
“Yes.” David swallowed hard and embraced Alex, rings clutched tightly in his hand. He knew he should have something to say, something to express what he was feeling, but all he could do was repeat the word again. “Yes.”
By
S
HIRA
A
NTHONY
The Dream of a Thousand Nights
B
LUE
N
OTES
Blue Notes