Free Men of London 05 - Cross to Bare by Susan Mac Nicol

moment, sorry. Perhaps we can reschedule this meeting?”
    Brook stood up, his face concerned. “You do seem a little out of sorts. Maybe some water might help?” He reached over and picked up the water jug on Lenny’s desk, and poured a glass into a tumbler next to it.
    With shaking hands, Lenny reached out for it, trying to smile as he did so but his face felt frozen, so who knew what it looked like—the Joker gone wrong perhaps.
    “Thank you, that’s sweet of—oh, thundershit. Fuck it.”
    The glass had slipped from his hands and spilled all over the desk, and all over Lenny, ice cold water flooding his crotch. It was Leslie’s soft shriek of horror that alerted him to what he’d done. In his flustered state, Lenny had completely forgotten to use the higher-pitched voice for those last few swear words. He’d also uttered his catchphrase swear word, and Brook no doubt would recognise it. He’d had said it often enough, even in bed when writhing beneath his magnificent, sweaty body. He looked straight up and met a startled gaze, one that was slowly turning to disbelief.
    Resigned, his gaze locked on confused brown eyes as he knew with dread in his heart that he’d definitely been rumbled.
    There’s no getting out of this one. The thundershit has hit the fan.
    “Lenny?” Brook’s stunned face made him wince. Leslie was sitting stock still, face pale, biting his bottom lip as he glanced between the other two men. Brook stood up, tension radiating from his wide shoulders.
    “Leslie, would you mind leaving us alone for a minute?” Lenny’s throat was dry and his heart clamoured. Hell in a hand basket. At least he had his own voice back.
    “Of course, boss.” Leslie stood up and shot him a sympathetic glance. He turned to Brook and fixed his vivid blue gaze on him.
    “He’s still Lenny under there,” Leslie said softly. “Please remember that.”
    With one last reassuring smile at Lenny, whose throat had tightened at the sincerity and caring in those words, Leslie left the room.
    Once Leslie had left, gently shutting the door behind him, the two stared at each other. Lenny’s heart beat rapidly, his hands clammy. He had no idea why he was so nervous. After all, he was who he was and normally anyone who didn’t like it could fuck off. This was Brook though; it was different.
    “Tell me.” Brook’s taut words broke the silence. “You want to tell me the hell why you tried to hide from me just now?”
    Lenny closed his eyes briefly and opened them to see Brook’s face tight with fury, his eyes fierce. “I didn’t know how you’d feel about it. I wanted to tell you about Laverne at dinner on Saturday night when we met. Not have you find out this way.”
    “So instead you thought you’d treat me like an idiot, put on that stupid high voice and play me for a fool? You didn’t trust me enough with the truth, no matter how I might have taken it?” Brook’s jaw clenched, the angry tic in it evident.
    Lenny raised his hands helplessly. “I never meant to make you feel foolish. I didn’t think—”
    Brook laughed harshly. “Oh, you got that right. You didn’t bloody think at all. Your employee seems to think I’m some sort of arsehole who’ll judge you badly for dressing up. Where the hell would he get that impression?”
    Lenny swallowed. “I might have mentioned something to him you said a while back…” his voice trailed off at the incredulous look Brook gave him.
    “What the hell did I say for you to think I’d be like that?” Brook levelled a stare at Lenny that, had it been a ball, would have thwacked him between the eyes and caused grievous bodily harm.
    Lenny smoothed nervous hands down the front of his blouse, noticing how the other man’s eyes followed them, and his eyes narrowed at the gesture. He looked…a little distracted at seeing the boobs across Lenny’s chest.
    “We were watching Ru Paul, remember? You said it wasn’t your cup of tea, and you wouldn’t want your man