He seemed to notice that when I did, because he offered me his arm, and I took it. He began to touch my arm too much, and smile down at me too much. He was playing the part of wealthy lover and businessman or celebrity who needed the bodyguards. I played with him, bumping my head against his shoulder, and laughing at comments that weren't funny at all.
He leaned over and spoke quietly, smiling brilliantly. "You always were a quick study on undercover work, Merry."
"Thank you, you, too."
"Oh, I'm very good under the covers." And he laughed. He also tossed his half-smoked cigarette into the first trash can we came to.
"I thought you needed the cigarette," I said, smiling up at him.
"I'd almost forgotten that flirting is better than smoking." He leaned over me, putting one arm across my shoulders to draw me in against his body. I'd had a lot of practice walking like that with people about six feet tall, though he moved differently than most of my men. I slid my arm around his waist, underneath the jacket, brushing against his own gun that was at the small of his back so it didn't ruin the line of his suit coat. We strolled up the street like that, our h*ps rubbing against each other as we walked.
"I didn't think you liked flirting with women," I said.
"I'm an equal-opportunity flirt, Merry, you should know that."
I laughed, and this one was for real. "I do remember that, but not usually this much for me."
He kissed the skin of my temple, lightly, but there was an intimacy to it, a reality to it that he'd never used when undercover on my arm. There had always been an edge of teasing with it. It let you know he didn't mean it, so you wouldn't hold it against him later.
Julian was always touching people, and that gave me a thought. I leaned into him even more tightly and spoke quietly for his ears only. "Are you not getting much touch lately?"
It startled him enough that he stumbled and caused our easy rhythm to falter. He caught himself and me, and we continued our almost lazy stroll up the sidewalk toward all the blinking lights.
"Isn't that awfully direct for fey culture?" He whispered it against my hair.
"Yes," I whispered back, "but we'll be at the crime scene in minutes, and I want to know how my friend is doing."
He smiled, though I was close enough to know that it left his eyes empty. "No, I'm not getting much touch at home. Adam seems to have buried his heart with his brother. I'm starting to look around, Merry. I'm starting to shop seriously, and I realized it's not just sex, it's the touch I miss. I think if I could get more touch I would be able to wait out his grief better."
I stroked my hand across the flat planes of his stomach, and he gave me a speculative look. I smiled up at him and said, "You can have touch, Julian. Our culture doesn't see touch as necessarily sexual."
He laughed then, an abrupt and happy sound of surprise. "I thought you saw every touch as sexual."
"No, sensual, but not sexual."
"And there's a difference?" he asked.
I traced my hand across his stomach again, while my other hand clung to his waist. "Yes."
"Which is this?" he asked.
That made me frown. "You don't like women, remember?"
He laughed again, and put his hand over mine where it rested on his stomach. "Yes, but you won't share your men."
"That would be a question for the individual men," I said.
He raised his eyebrows at me. "Really?"
His expression made me laugh. "See, you'd rather sleep with them than with me."
He rolled his eyes a little and made a waffling gesture with his hands, then grinned at me. "True." He leaned down, still smiling, but his next words didn't match. "But if I cuddle you Adam will forgive me, while he might not forgive me a man."
I studied his face from inches away. "It's that bad?"
He nodded, and lifted my hand off his stomach so he could lay little kisses on my fingers as he spoke. "I love Adam more than I ever thought I'd love anyone, but I'm not good without attention." He let my hand fall and leaned our faces as close together as the height difference and my heels would allow. "It's a weakness of mine, but I need touch, and flirting, something."
"Come to the house for dinner tonight and we'll do a big cuddly pile while we watch something on the movie-size TV."
His steps hesitated, and he almost broke rhythm but caught himself, so neither of us lost a step. "Are you sure?"
"Trust me, as long as it's not sexual you can get touch."
"And if I wanted it to be sexual?" he asked.
That made me frown at him, and he looked away, not meeting my gaze. He pretended he was looking at the police and all the emergency vehicles, but I knew he was hiding his face from me, because whatever was in his eyes in that moment he didn't want to share.
I stopped him, by stopping my own walk. I turned him to face me. "You told me once that your commitment to Adam was your first happiness, that you'd f**ked and worked, but never been happy, not really."
He gave a small nod.
"If you tell me your priority is to keep your commitment to him, then I'll help you keep it, but if you're telling me that it's over and you want sex, that's a different conversation."
I watched the pain in his eyes. He drew me into a hug that left no daylight between our bodies. He'd never hugged me like that, and seldom other men unless he was teasing and trying to see if he could make them uncomfortable. But it wasn't a hug about sex, or teasing. He held me too tightly and too desperately. I held him back and spoke with my face pressed to his chest. "Julian, what's wrong?"