Barging In (17 page)

“Are you saying my tan needs a top-up?” It was a pathetic effort at humour, but Robin grinned, squeezing him closer. His gaze flicked between Dan and the route ahead, and the arm that wasn’t around Dan’s waist rested on the tiller, making small adjustments to their course.

“You’re shivering. Here, have this.” Before he could protest, Dan felt the warmth of the knitted hat descending on his head.

“God, no! The thermal undies are bad enough. You’re trying to turn me into one of you lot, aren’t you?”

Robin chuckled, loosening his grip around Dan’s waist. Any sense of disappointment was swept away when Dan felt a hand insinuating itself down the back of his jeans. A hand with icy fingertips. He squirmed and squeaked in protest but felt strangely bereft when it withdrew.

“Glad to see you put them on. Can’t have you messing about on the river in your flimsy city clothes. I’ll help you peel them off later, shall I?” Robin’s smile went a lot further towards heating Dan up than the hat had managed. “Now, since you went to all that trouble, how about tea?”

By now it wasn’t nearly as hot as Dan would have liked, but Robin gulped his down with enthusiasm.

Dan watched the canal coming to life around them. Once they’d negotiated the swing bridge—Dan instructed by Robin to hop off the boat and open it—they entered the busy stretch down at Bathampton. Already stovepipes were smoking and hatches flung open. He saw a lanky, dreadlocked man in a ratty dressing gown step off the deck of a small tug painted in red, gold and green. He knew that boat—had spent an hour or so trying to coax a smile out of its owner for the photographs. Aranya gave them a quizzical stare and a half wave before dumping his tray of smouldering embers into the hedgerow and turning his back to them. Dan felt snubbed but then noticed the cloud of steam rising and realised why. Jesus, some of these people were so primitive.

“Robin? My boat’s coming up. Would you mind stopping so I can grab some more clothes?”

Robin smiled warmly again, and even though his hand was now back on the tiller rather than around Dan, it still felt like they were connected. Dan’s stomach did a little flip. Funny, he’d never felt anything quite like that before. Must be hunger. Maybe he should grab something to eat off his boat as well.

In the end there weren’t any spaces left to moor up. Robin brought
Serendipity
to a gentle stop alongside
Faerie Queen
and held the boats together with a foot on each deck.

“You’d better be quick. We’re blocking the canal.”

Dan threw the rest of his clothing into his shoulder bag, along with a couple of packets of crisps and a chocolate bar—not a balanced meal, but it was all he had onboard. He caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror as he left. “What the fuck are you doing, Dan?” he asked his reflection, pulling the ridiculous hat off his head and putting it into the bag. He wasn’t sure if he meant the hat or the whole situation with Robin. He wasn’t even sure if he cared, and stuck his tongue out at his reflection as recklessness rushed through him in a giddy stampede.

When he returned to the deck, Robin held out a hand to pull him back onboard. Dan hesitated for a moment. Did he really want to spend the rest of the journey on that tiny deck? There wasn’t even a safety railing. Then again, the only other option was to spend it on his own down on the front deck.

He looked doubtfully at Robin.

“Come on. I want to teach you how to steer. You need to learn how to cruise properly.”

Dan pouted and stuck out his hip. “Baby, there ain’t nothing you can teach me about cruising.”

Robin stared blankly for a moment, and Dan worried that he’d overdone the camp. He felt a surge of relief as Robin broke into surprised laughter, saying, “Get your arse over here, now!”

“Aye, aye, Skipper.”

Dan saluted as he hopped onto the back deck, then stepped up onto the small shelf that hung over the noisy engine room. As he did so, he felt Robin’s hand squeeze his arse.

“Cheeky tart,” Robin murmured into his ear.

Dan grinned and did his best to concentrate on Robin’s patient instructions as they negotiated the twists and turns the canal made through the Bathampton flood plain. He clearly wasn’t the most attentive pupil, however, as Robin had to keep his hand on the tiller as well. What he was most aware of was the warmth of Robin’s body so close to his, and the way Robin’s breath tickled his ears as he spoke.

With the sun on his face and the world waking up around them, it was just about the closest Dan had ever felt to perfect happiness.

He wasn’t going to ask himself what that meant.

They closed the lock gate behind the boat, taking opposite sides of the canal. Robin pushed slowly, not wanting to show up Dan, who was obviously putting all his strength into his side, judging by the colour in his cheeks and his laboured breathing. It was the sixth lock they’d tackled in an hour and a half, and Dan looked exhausted. He’d been quiet for the last three locks—a sharp contrast to his initial enthusiasm at watching the water rush out through the sluice gates and snapping pictures of
Serendipity
slowly moving down as the water level dropped inside the narrow channel.

As soon as the gates were fully closed, Robin walked over the top of the lock. Dan was standing, slumped back against the heavy oak balance beam, and Robin hopped up on it to sit next to him. The height of the beam put his knees at Dan’s shoulder level, and Robin put out a hand to stroke the exposed flesh of Dan’s neck. The muscles were knotted up with tension, and Robin began to massage without really considering what he was doing.

“Mmm…don’t stop. Feels good.”

A dog barked. Robin snapped his head around. Just a woman walking her terrier along the opposite bank, but he realised how exposed they were. This last lock was right in the city centre and although the screens of trees and walls gave an illusion of privacy, it was still a public area.

But then again, what did he care what people thought of him? They already had him down as an illiterate, scumbag gypsy with designs on their property, so why not prove just how depraved he really was?

Robin lifted his leg and scooted over so he was seated with Dan between his thighs. There, much easier to give him a proper massage now. He dug his fingertips into the knots and worked them loose, glad to be able to do something to help Dan that didn’t involve having to talk.

Dan gave a happy moan, his head lolling as Robin worked wider circles with his hands, sweeping his thumbs up either side of Dan’s spine and stroking firmly across his shoulders and down again. It would be easier without the T-shirt in the way. Maybe later he could treat Dan to a proper back massage.

“That’s good. Where’d you learn to do that so well?” Dan asked, his head still lolling and his eyes closed against the sun as Robin’s strokes eased into feathery touches.

“Mel taught me. She’s a qualified masseuse. It works better with oil, though.” Robin gazed down at the top of Dan’s head and stilled his hands. There was a whorl of hair on Dan’s crown that drew his attention. The hairs shone gold and copper in the weak sun, and he had this powerful urge to lean down and kiss him there. Before he could, Dan’s head dropped back and rested against his thigh. Robin’s gaze wandered over the freckles dusting Dan’s cheeks and nose, the crescents of those eyelashes and the curve of those lips. Why on earth had he ever considered Dan plain? The man was beautiful.

Just looking at Dan made him ache with a terrifying joy.

A low growl interrupted his reverie, and Robin looked up to see a man restraining his German shepherd. Shit, he knew that dog. The owner raised his head, and Robin stifled a groan as he recognised the unwelcome features of Nigel Truman, landlord of the George. Nigel’s lips curled in a sneer as he walked past them, and Robin heard him mutter something about “fucking arse-bandits”.

Dan didn’t seem to notice, still basking in the sun and smiling, but Robin’s mood was shattered. He couldn’t enjoy sitting like this any longer. He shifted, gently pushing at Dan’s shoulders.

“Come on, we should get going and moor up somewhere before lunch.”

Dan’s eyes sprang open. “I think I should stay inside for the next bit. Keep Morris company.”

“Might be better on the river anyway. You need to keep your wits about you in fast-flowing water.” Robin felt Dan shudder against him. “You all right with this?”

“It’s a proper boating holiday this way, isn’t it?” Dan gave a strained smile before heading over to the iron-rung ladder that led down to
Serendipity
, now nine feet below them.

It was only after Robin had watched him inch his way back along the gunwales to the hatch that he realised Dan hadn’t actually answered the question.

Robin frowned as he steered out into the Avon. Just what was eating Dan?

Chapter Seventeen

The river worked its charm, as always, and Robin revelled in the sensation of freedom. The water was wide, and the current pulled them along much faster than
Serendipity’s
engine could manage alone. You saw a different side of Bath from the river. None of your tourist spots here. Most of the old buildings in this part of the city had been razed in World War Two, meaning the waterside was a mixture of tangled undergrowth and the squat boxes of industrial buildings and retail parks. He didn’t mind it, though. He found a desolate kind of beauty there—not the manicured charm of some of the rest of the city.

As they passed a patch of scrubby trees glowing in the autumn sunlight, Robin spotted Dan’s camera lens poking out of the side hatch.

He grinned to himself. Dan certainly took his photography seriously but seemed to have a lot of fun with it as well. Last night Dan had loaded the day’s shots onto his laptop and shown them to Robin, who was totally unprepared for the artistry of them. He’d kind of assumed that the pictures would be like Dan himself—fun and colourful without much substance. Although that probably wasn’t fair; Robin had caught some hints of deeper feelings lurking under the surface gloss, but whenever he thought he’d connected, Dan shimmered back into brightness again.

Dan’s photographs, though—they had depth. Robin saw the boaters in a new light—something about the way Dan shot them highlighted both their vulnerability and their pride. Their tiny, cluttered homes had a dignity in Dan’s compositions, and there was great strength in the way the boaters stared down the lens—sometimes laughing, sometimes haughty, sometimes serene.

Robin cruised out of the city into open countryside until he reached the bend he remembered was just wide enough to turn
Serendipity
. The lack of rain over the last month of fine weather meant the river was flowing slowly enough for him to make a controlled turn, and he cruised back against the current until he reached a picturesque spot where the banks were steep enough to get the boat moored up tight. A row of ash trees lined the bank, a small patch of woodland beyond them. It was a private spot, the nearest footpath on the other side of the wood. After securing
Serendipity
with the anchor, he jumped over to the trees and tied the mooring lines to the slender trunks.

His last line made fast, Robin turned to find Dan watching him from an open hatch.

“What do you think? Nice spot, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Dan smiled, but something about it didn’t ring true. What the hell was wrong with him?

Robin frowned. “You want to go for a walk? Reckon there’ll be a great view from the top of the hill there.” The Avon valley spread wide here, the floodplain a patchwork of fields divided by hedgerows in gold and yellow.

“I’m fine for the moment. How about you join me inside?” There was a lascivious tilt to Dan’s smile this time, but it still wasn’t totally convincing.

Robin leapt back onto the boat and found Dan in the back, stripping off his T-shirt in the dark passageway before the bed.

“Hang on, you want to see this first,” Robin said, throwing open the hatch looking out onto the river. “Take a look at that view.”

As Dan remained motionless, Robin pulled him to the open hatch. Dan didn’t resist when Robin pushed him against the ladder but was curiously listless. Robin wrapped his arms around him and rested his head on Dan’s shoulder. That tension was back again. He pressed a kiss into the knotted muscles.

“You want to tell me what’s the matter? You’ve been acting weird ever since the locks.”

“Bugger, and there was me thinking you hadn’t noticed.” Dan gave an abrupt laugh, but some of the tension left his body as he leant back against Robin. “It’s going to sound really stupid, and I should have told you earlier, but…”

“But?” Robin prompted, trying to ignore the sinking sensation in his guts.

Dan sighed. “But I can’t swim, and all that water, well, it’s a bit, uh, intimidating.”

Robin wanted to laugh with relief but stifled the urge, smiling into Dan’s shoulder instead. “You should have said something. We didn’t have to come onto the river.”

“I know, I know. I think I just wanted to believe I was over it now. I was fucking terrified of water when I was growing up. Mum said I used to scream bloody murder if she tried to get me down the pool.” Dan shivered. “I was dead skinny as a kid. Mum always said it was ’cause I was born six weeks early, didn’t get my first bath until I was out of the incubator and that’s why I was so scared.”

“What do you reckon it was?” Robin prepared himself for a tale of water-based trauma. A near drowning, perhaps?

Dan just chuckled. “Like I said, I was skin and bone. Not an ounce of fat on me. Used to sink like a stone in the water. Still do, even though I’ve put on a bit of weight.”

Robin ran his hands down Dan’s sides. There was no denying Dan had great muscle tone, but as for body fat—there wasn’t any evidence of that. He’d be worried about breaking him if it wasn’t for the way Dan responded with wild enthusiasm when Robin got rough in bed. Dan was definitely tougher than he looked.

“Can’t you swim at all?”

“Well, kind of. I can tread water. I had lessons in my early twenties. Special adult learners classes. Most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.” Dan paused a moment, then angled his head so that Robin could see into his eyes. They had a mischievous spark in them. “You should have seen the lifeguard, though. Talk about sex on legs! Mind you, it’s bloody hard work trying to seduce someone who’s just been watching you doing doggy paddle while clinging on to a float for dear life.”