Barging In (15 page)

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Authors: Josephine Myles

BOOK: Barging In
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“Is he okay?” he’d whispered to Mel during a particularly loud coughing fit.

“He’s better off here than in a hospital,” was all she would say.

Dan begged to differ. The man was living in filth, and his stove belched black smoke whenever he opened it to chuck another log on. But then again, it was his home. There was a fierce independence in Rusty’s demeanour, and Dan did his best to capture it in the photographs.

As Dan folded up his tripod, his phone started blaring Ricky Martin: Tristan’s ringtone. He gave Mel an apologetic smile as he answered. He wouldn’t want her to think that his taste in music was quite that camp; he’d chosen it only to annoy Tris, and it worked a treat.

“Danny-boy! How are things out in the wilds of Somerset? Caught yourself that hunky boater yet?”

Dan glanced over at Mel and Rusty. Tris was so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if they could hear him. “I’m just taking this outside,” he told them before making a hasty exit.

“Go on then, darling. Spill the beans. How did you manage to charm you way into your hot boater’s pants in the end?”

“And what makes you think I did?”

“Oh come on, I know you. The guy didn’t stand a chance.”

“True. Okay, so I wore him down in the end.”

“I knew it!” Tris shrieked. Dan held the phone away from his ear and watched as Mel stepped off the boat and put the bags down in front of him. “Come on, I want details! Who did who? How well hung? What rating on the Sexometer?”

Dan groaned. He’d forgotten all about the Sexometer. They’d invented it when they first met as a scale to rate their hookups by. Points were scored for size, inventiveness, willingness, noisiness, enthusiasm, cleanliness, designer underwear, depth of throat and all manner of criteria they’d considered important at the time. Points could also be taken away for a range of heinous offences such as bad breath, love handles and garlic-flavoured spunk. Strangely enough, conversation, kissing and cuddling hadn’t figured at all.

“I’ve no idea. You’re not still using that thing, are you? I thought we were too old and sophisticated these days.”

“Quit stalling, angelface. I want to know all the juicy details.”

But he didn’t want to share Robin with Tristan yet, and not just because Mel was doing a particularly unconvincing job of pretending not to listen. Actually, she wasn’t pretending at all and raised her eyebrows at him as he looked at her.

“We’ll talk about it when I get back, okay?”

“That’s not fair! Right, well you are so not going to be hearing about this Alex I met at the leather club, then. We had a little date last night. You should have seen some of the things he got me doing! I had no idea I was such a pain slut, I can tell you.”

Dan smiled. Although Tristan had always been very vocal about his opinion of the whole “ghastly” S&M scene, he was beginning to suspect the superior attitude masked a deep fascination. Maybe it would do Tristan some good to finally get it all out of his system. Maybe it was what he needed. If it took his mind off the Sexometer, it had to be a good thing.

“Another time, Tris. Listen, the reception’s not good out here, but I’ll call you when I get back. We’ll go for a drink. Catch up properly.”

“Dan Taylor, you’re lucky I’m such a good friend that I’m not going to take offence at being brushed off.”

“Bye, Tris.”

Dan distinctly heard a rather huffy “Judas” as he hung up.

Mel was still watching him. “Anyone special?”

Dan caught an edge of something in her voice. “Just a friend. An old friend.” He didn’t want to share Tristan with Mel any more than he’d wanted to share Robin with Tristan. He was on a holiday from his normal life at the moment, and the phone call had been an unwelcome intrusion. As he swung his leg over his bike, he realised that it was Tuesday already. He had five days left to spend with Robin. Five days longer than he’d usually spend with one guy.

Trouble was, it didn’t feel like it was going to be long enough.

 

 

“So, are you planning on visiting us again at some point, once you’ve swanned back to London?”

Dan knelt in the grass and fumbled with his lens, irritated with Mel’s tone as well as her interruption of his task. She’d been distant ever since overhearing his phone call with Tristan, and he had the feeling that she was looking down her nose at him. Tricky, what with her being even shorter than he was, but she seemed to be able to manage it.

“I don’t know. Maybe. If I have time.” He inserted the wide-angle lens back into the correct compartment and carefully lowered the body of the camera into the bag. They’d finished the final shoot Mel had arranged for him, and he thought he had enough shots to illustrate the article, or perhaps even for an exhibition. The rest of the week was his to spend as he pleased, and there was only one way he wanted to do that: with Robin. He looked up to meet Mel’s gaze and quailed at her stony expression.

“Robin’s a good mate. I don’t want him getting fucked around,” she said.

“He’s a big boy, Mel. He can look after himself.” Dan stood, stretched and went to attach the bag to his bicycle. He hoped the sight of his back would signal the end of the conversation.

“Maybe so, but he’s still hurting from something that happened years ago. I don’t want you making it worse.”

Could Mel help him make sense of it all? Dan turned to look at her. “What happened between him and this Jamie fellow, then? If I knew what it bloody well was, I might be better at avoiding putting my foot in it.”

Mel’s face went pale at the name. “Jamie?” Her voice was quiet, hesitant. “I couldn’t tell you anything about him.”

“Fine. I know how you boaters like to look out for each other and repel the evil outsiders. It’s not a problem if Robin fucks around with one of you, is it?”

“Just what are you getting at?” Mel put her hands on her hips and glared. That woman could win any staring contest, hands down. He decided he didn’t want to bring up the fact that she’d been sleeping with Robin after all.

Dan fumbled in his wallet and pulled out a wedge of notes, counting out a hundred and fifty pounds—not bad for a couple of days’ work. Okay, it was a lot less than he’d have to pay a proper assistant, but he wasn’t exactly rolling in money himself and hadn’t planned on paying Tristan anything other than treating him to a few nights out and possibly some sexual favours. “Here, I owe you for all the help.”

Mel sneered at the notes in his hand. “I don’t want your money, Dan.”

He shoved them back in his pocket, exasperated. “Well, what do you want, then? You’d better tell me, because I can’t figure it out.”

She gave him a level stare, and Dan felt like he was being weighed up and found wanting. “I just want you to be good enough for him, that’s all.”

“I can only be myself.”

“Yeah, well, just don’t go raising his hopes for something more than you’re prepared to give, all right?”

“Okay. Okay,” he repeated in response to her continued glower. “Look, I really like him, but he knows the kind of guy I am. It’s all out in the open, okay?”

Mel nodded, and Dan was relieved to see her face soften. She was pretty when she smiled, all white teeth and crinkled nose.

“Sorry, Dan. I just… I care about him, you know? He might be a bit of a grumpy git at times, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Yeah, I know.” It was blindingly obvious as soon as you scraped back the surface—the moment you got past Robin’s shallow defences. Dan wanted to see more of that Robin—the one who smiled and laughed and threw bread to the ducks. The one who told him things about his past, even if they were cryptic references to a relationship he was still mostly in the dark about.

Maybe Dan looked pensive, thinking about Jamie, because Mel gave him a hug which nearly knocked him off-balance.

“I’ll see you around over the next few days, I hope. Don’t you go hogging Robin all to yourself, you hear?”

Dan mumbled his good-byes, then headed off towards town. Now that Mel had refused his money, he had an idea of what he could do with it. He smiled as he pedalled, humming tunelessly under his breath. A little shopping trip was in order. He had someone he wanted to treat.

 

 

Robin startled at the rocking of the boat. He hadn’t been expecting Dan back so soon and lunged to hide away his wood and carving chisels in the footstool. He lounged back on the sofa, trying to look wanton. His body tingled at the idea of Dan’s proximity, and he began idly rubbing his dick through his trousers, feeling it swell.

The doors swung open.

“Hey, sweetie! Oh!” Mel’s mouth stayed open as her eyes raked over Robin’s pose.

“Shit! I…uh… Hi, Mel. Wasn’t expecting you.” Robin grabbed a cushion and held it over his now rapidly deflating erection.

“No. I can see that. He’s a lucky man, that Dan is.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but Robin heard something darker in her voice.

“Cup of tea?” he offered, rising, and was glad to be able to busy himself while she sat in front of the fire, warming her hands.

“Things are going well, then?” Mel asked. “Everything happy in Robin-and-Dan land?”

Robin frowned at the kettle. “Everything’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You like him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy.” He had to stop himself from slamming down the mugs onto the work surface. It really wasn’t any of her fucking business.

“But he’s going back on Sunday.” Mel said it quietly, allowing the full meaning to sink in slowly.

Because he didn’t want to think about it, Robin blustered, “Yeah? You think I don’t know that? It’s fine, Mel. We’re just friends with benefits. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m a grownup.”

“That’s what he said.” Mel gave a wry smile, and Robin glared.

“You’ve been talking about me behind my back?”

“Don’t be silly, it’s not like that.” Mel spread her hands in a pantomime of innocence. “I just want you to make sure you don’t expect too much from Dan. He’s going back to his life in London. He’s told me a bit about it, and it’s a pretty wild scene. I’ve heard his shrieking friend on the phone going on about all the men he’s slept with.”

“If you’re trying to warn me that he’s a slut, then I’m one step ahead of you.” But even as he said the words, a knife twisted inside him. He didn’t want to consider the idea of another man with his hands on Dan. Another man screwing Dan. Of Dan risking himself with a parade of random strangers, any one of whom could easily be a violent, diseased nutjob.

He didn’t realise how tightly he was gripping the handles of the mugs until the whistle of the kettle roused him from his dark fantasy. He let go, feeling the ache in his fingers on the release.

“Robin? How about you two come around to my boat for dinner tomorrow.” She sounded concerned, but Robin had had enough.

“What? One minute you’re warning me off him, and the next you want us to come around and play happy families? What the fuck?”

“For God’s sake, Robin, it’s not like that! I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Robin felt Mel’s hand on his arm, gently massaging the tensed muscles. He was gripping the edge of the work surface this time. He wanted to tell her to mind her own business, but she was a friend, and as far as he could remember, this was what friends did. He was out of practise when it came to friendship, having kept pretty much to himself for the last few years. When her head leant against his shoulder, he inclined his to rest on top, taking deep, calming breaths.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted,” he said.

She put an arm around his waist. “Who’s Jamie? You never told me about him.”

Robin froze, the shock of the question rendering him speechless. What on earth was Dan doing, talking to Mel about Jamie? He knew how Robin felt about that. He knew it was private.

“Was he your boyfriend?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” It was amazing he’d ever said as much as he had to Dan. No one else had been able to prise anything out of him over the past three years. Not even the shrink his mum had insisted on sending him to in a last-ditch attempt to lift him out of his depression. It had worked, in a roundabout way. He’d fled the appointment early and, after half an hour’s meandering walk, had found himself staring out over the river. Thoughts of plunging into the icy water had been sidetracked by the appearance of a narrowboat chugging past. The man at the tiller had given him a nod, and Robin had watched as the little boat disappeared into the distance. The self-sufficiency and privacy of the lifestyle had appealed to his jaded mind, and so he’d spent the money he’d had left from his inheritance. The money that Jamie hadn’t already squandered, that was.

“Robin?” He realised with a start that Mel was still leaning against him and expected some sort of response. He didn’t have the words, so he pulled her closer, squeezing her skinny body and breathing in the scent of patchouli and incense that lingered in her hair. Eventually she sighed, tilting her head back to look up at him.

“Look, just make sure you don’t go falling for him. Spend a bit of time with your other friends over the next few days. Don’t let it get too intense with Dan, all right?”

Robin didn’t respond. It wasn’t advice he wanted to hear.

“I’m just looking out for you. Believe it or not, I care about you.”

“I know.”

Robin couldn’t meet Mel’s eyes when she repeated her invitation to dinner but made a noncommittal noise that seemed to satisfy her. At any rate, she gave up the subject and chattered on about other news as they drank their tea. Apparently BW had made a whole new section of canal into winter moorings, so there’d be even fewer spots where they could moor up without the proper license. Robin listened with half an ear, turning over ideas as to how to get Dan all to himself for the rest of the week. They needed a holiday from reality, from interfering busybodies and other distractions. They needed time to get to know each other, inside and out.

Chapter Sixteen

Once Mel had gone, Robin cycled out to the grocers at Bathampton and stocked up on supplies. His panniers and rucksack full of food and beer—and his wallet disturbingly empty—he set off back to
Serendipity
. His heart leapt when he saw Dan’s bright yellow bike leaning against the hedgerow. He leant his own beat-up old bicycle against it, and the two looked just right together. He beamed as he threw open the doors to find Dan in the galley, frying something that smelled mouthwateringly good.

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