The Butler

Chapter 34

The sunlight filtering through the curtains nudged me awake. My body ached in ways I hadn't expected, a mix of soreness and satisfaction that made my cheeks flush when I remembered why. Richard's arm was draped possessively across my waist, his breathing deep and even as he slept. For a moment, I allowed myself the indulgence of watching him—his relaxed features, the way his dark lashes rested against his skin, the faint smile curling at the corners of his mouth. He looked so content, so completely at peace, that it almost made me forget the complications waiting outside this room.

Almost.

Carefully, I slid out from under his arm, doing my best not to wake him. My feet hit the cold floor, and I reached for my discarded sweatpants, pulling them on before heading toward the door. The house was quiet, the kind of tranquility that felt rare in a place as big as the Preston manor. I made my way to the kitchen. My throat was dry and I desperately needed water.

As I filled a glass at the sink, the light on the landline's answering machine blinked, indicating a missed call. Curious, I pressed the button and a robotic voice announced a new message.

The familiar authoritative tone of Richard's father filled the room. "Carlton, I'm calling to let you know that our plans have changed. The blizzard up north is worsening, so we're cutting the trip short. We'll be home by noon. Make sure everything is in order."

My stomach dropped. Noon? That was barely four hours away. I glanced at the clock, and the reality of the situation hit me. Panic rose in my chest as I thought about the implications. Richard's parents couldn't find him in my room. It would cause too many questions I wasn't ready to deal with.

Without thinking, I dashed back to my room. I slammed the door open, startling Richard awake.

"Carl?" he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. His hair was adorably messy while his were eyes squinting against the light. "What's going on?"

"Your parents," I said in a panic. "They're coming home early. They'll be here in a few hours."

That woke him up. He sat up, the sheets gathered around his waist, exposing his bare chest. "And?" he asked, his tone calm, almost dismissive.

"And they can't find you here!" I hissed, pacing the room. "Do you have any idea what they'd think? What they'd say?"

Richard's brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Carl, we're adults. Why do we have to hide this?"

"Because this isn't just about us!" I snapped, stopping to face him. "You're their son. I'm their employee. Do you realize how this would look?"

He swung his legs over the side of the bed. "So what? They'll have to deal with it sooner or later."

"I prefer later," I said firmly. "When we've figured out how to handle this without... without..."

"Without them firing you?" he finished, frustrated. "Carl, if that's what you're worried about, don't be. They wouldn't dare."

"You don't know that," I said, my voice shaking. "And it's not just that... I need time to figure things out, Richard. A lot is at stake here, and it's not just my job."

Richard stood and closed the gap between us. He held my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I'm not ashamed of this," he said softly, but with a conviction that made my chest tighten. "Of us."

"I know you do," I replied softly. "But we need to be smart about this. Please, Richard. Just go back to your room for now. We'll talk about this later."

For a moment, he didn't move, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone as he searched my eyes. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Fine. But we're not sweeping this under the rug forever. You'll have to face them eventually."

"I know," I said, relieved. "Thank you."

He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead before pulling away. "You owe me for this," he said with a teasing smirk.

I couldn't help but smile. 

He gathered his clothes and left, leaving me alone in the room. As the door clicked shut, I sank onto the bed, letting out a shaky breath. The weight of the situation sinking in. This wasn't just a secret anymore. It was a ticking time bomb. And I had no idea how long I could keep it from exploding.

By the time Richard's parents got here, the house was spotless, every detail carefully checked. I tried to stay focused on my tasks, but the memory of last night—and Richard's insistence on not hiding—stayed in my mind.

The sound of the front door opening snapped me out of my thoughts. 

"Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Preston," I said, stepping forward to take their coats. My back still feel the ache from last night, and I winced slightly when I moved too quickly.

Mrs. Preston's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing. "Carlton, are you alright? You're walking a little... odd," she said, her voice filled with genuine concern. Her eyes quickly moved to Richard, who was standing by the stairs with a glass of water. "I hope Richard hasn't been giving you trouble."

Richard nearly choked on his water, coughing into his sleeve, while I felt my face heat up. "No, ma'am," I said quickly, my voice higher than I intended. "Everything's fine. I just slipped outside playing in the snow," which wasn't exactly a lie. 

She looked at me, as if trying to figure out if I was being truthful. "Well, I hope it stays that way. I know Richard can be a little devious sometimes, so don't hesitate to tell on him."

Richard recovered quickly, his usual nonchalant expression slipping back into place. "I'm a saint, Mother. Don't listen to him if he says otherwise."

Mrs. Preston laughed lightly, patting her son's cheek before heading toward the living room with her husband. "Well, don't work him too hard, Richard. He'll probably need his energy for the New Year's party."

I glanced at Richard, who looked like he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll manage," I muttered, following them.

As they settled into the plush sofas, Mr. Preston clapped his hands together. "Given the storm, our plans for New Year's have changed. We'll be celebrating it here instead."

Richard's smile dropped, just slightly, but enough for me to notice. "Here?" he repeated, trying to mask his displeasure.

"Yes," his father said with a nod. "The snowstorm canceled most flights, and your mother thought it would be nice to spend the evening at home as a family. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Absolutely," Mrs. Preston agreed, her tone warm. "We rarely get to do this anymore, what with all of us being so busy. It'll be wonderful."

Richard forced a polite smile, but I could see the tension in his jaw. I knew what he was thinking: having his parents home meant no privacy, no stolen moments. 

"Sounds great," Richard said smoothly, though his tone lacked enthusiasm.

I kept my expression neutral, already planning how to get through the next few days without arousing suspicion. But deep down, I knew this was only the beginning of a complicated web of secrets.

And now, with Richard's parents around, that web was about to be tested.