“Hold on,” Chuck murmured. “We may have a problem.”
“What?” Josh’s voice sounded strained, and Grace wondered how much of his strength was feigned for the sake of making everyone else feel better.
“Hello, Mr. Broadstone,” Chuck said, his voice obviously pitched for the person he was talking to, and everybody on coms groaned slightly. They hadn’t told Lucius about what they were doing tonight because so very much of it was going to be illegal, right up until the infobomb was in Interpol’s possession. Apparently that was remiss on their part—and about to bite them all in the ass.
“What are the fucking odds,” Julia said, sotto voce, because she was mingling with Felix in the crowd.
“Chuck,” Josh started, but Chuck had his own patter, and Grace figured it was probably better to get out of the way.
“Hello. Charles, was it?” They’d met more than once at Felix and Danny’s—and there was a flirty note that told everybody Lucius was being coy.
“Got overwhelmed in the basement den, didn’t you?” Chuck asked, his voice a little south of smarmy. “You can call me Chuck.”
“Mm.” Lucius didn’t sound convinced. “I had a business to run. Apparently I missed a big chunk of meetings. So, Chuck, am I to infer from your presence that there will be… complications this evening?”
“Oh, you sure do talk pretty. And yes. Yes, there will be. You should be fine, but you may want to hang out here at the base of the steps for a few minutes. I need to go make something of an ass of myself, and you don’t want any of that action.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Lucius muttered. “Does this mean you’ve found out where—mmf?”
Grace frowned. It sounded like Chuck had put his hand or his fingers or something on Lucius’s mouth, and that was… well, intimate for two guys currently locking horns instead of cocks.
“You know nothing,” Chuck said. “You saw nothing. And in two seconds, I’m going to go up and get kicked out of your little shindig, and you don’t want to have a fucking thing to do with me. Are we clear?”
Chuck must have moved his fingers because Lucius spoke breathlessly. “I’m unsure as to whether—”
The next sounds were muffled and sort of lip-smacky. Grace peered from the darkness to the corner of the building where Chuck would be and gasped.
“Wow,” he murmured.
“Are they kissing?” Josh asked. “Because I can’t see shit, but that sounds like they’re kissing.”
“They’re practically making babies on the lawn,” Grace blurted. “Stop that! Stop that, Chuck! You’re making babies in a very bad place.”
Something in his voice must have done the trick because Chuck pulled back, and from his perch in the tree, Grace watched him wipe Lucius’s mouth with his handkerchief.
“You stay here now, yeah?” he asked, almost tenderly.
“Yeah,” Lucius replied, and Grace would have put money down that he had big eyes and a slightly open mouth.
Gross. Grace wouldn’t kiss either of those people for money.
Chuck broke away from Lucius, who remained in the shadow of the building. As he trotted up the stairs, Grace saw Lucius touch his own lips in wonder, and he sighed.
Then he scrambled down the tree before the damned guard came back.
Stealth came to him like breathing, so he was not prepared for Lucius to suddenly, perceptively, search the shadows for him as he slid to the far corner with the nearly transparent rope Danny had left for him that afternoon. He paused, his heart thundering in his ears, and he was not sure whether or not to be relieved or insulted when he saw Lucius’s little salute his way.
Before he could salute back, they both heard Chuck’s voice as he called out, “Torrance Grayson, you adorable little minx, get back here so we can snog!”
Josh and Stirling sputtered into their coms, and Torrance, activating his com for the first time, snapped, “I will get him for that. I swear to God I will.”
Grace heard, rather than saw, the scuffle at the steps as he grabbed hold of the rope and pulled once to make sure it was secure. He climbed it easily, but he felt naked there on the side of the building, and he hated that. This hadn’t been his first choice of entry. He’d gotten so comfortable in the museum during the last two weeks, his original suggestion had been for him to go in through the front in the morning and curl up in one of the ventilation shafts and take a nap.
Hunter had pointed out that he’d have to nap for a good six hours, since the museum was closing down for the gala, and Danny pointed out that the museum was using the time to vacuum the ventilation shafts out so the whole place didn’t smell like dust in case they had to turn on the heater.
So that idea sucked.
He got to the top and worked quickly, coiling the rope into a nice, neat little pile before moving quietly across the rooftop. When he got to the door, he reached into his sleeve for his lockpicking equipment, only to have the door open. A big bluff Viking of a man stepped outside and held it open for him.
“Grace?” Carl “Soderburgh” Cox said, gesturing him inside.
“That was easy,” Grace muttered. “If you could do that on the roof, why couldn’t you do that in the back?”
“Because the security guards on the roof were the ones who got pulled away when your friend made a ruckus.”
Grace scowled. “What moron ordered that?”
“I did,” Soderburgh told him. “That’s the whole reason Danny wanted me on security.”
“What’s Hunter doing? Serving pastries? He could have taken them out!”
“For what? Being security guards?” Soderburgh sounded mildly discombobulated.
“Whatever,” Grace muttered. “Fine. We don’t hurt people.” He smiled a little to himself. “It’s pretty fun to watch him do his thing, though.” Because Grace had spent a couple of afternoons over this last week in Hunter’s flat, watching Hunter work out while Grace went through his stretching and strength routines.
The results had been sweaty, muscular, and highly satisfying. Grace was wondering more and more why he hadn’t thought having a regular boyfriend would be a good idea. The sex was certainly way better when you knew who was doing what to you, where.
“Whatever,” Soderburgh grumbled. “It would be great if you said, ‘Thanks, Carl, you’re a real pal,’ but I’ll take you wanting to ogle your boyfriend more.”
“How do you even know he’s my boyfriend?” Grace asked as Carl led the way down from the rooftop entrance to the stairs.
“Because everybody’s talking about how it’s like watching a bull mastiff taming a feral cat.”
“Everybody or Josh?” Grace asked, feeling very smug. “You can be honest. It was Josh, wasn’t it?”
“Nope,” Josh said over coms. “It was Stirling.”
“Was not,” Stirling added. “You guys, don’t forget to take a right at the end of the hallway.”
Once again, Grace didn’t have to pick the lock as Carl used a legit set of keys to open the door.
“I feel like I’m not earning my pay here,” he said, scowling.