Closer by Morning (7 page)

But Matt had been so certain, so cruel, telling him it was over. How could anything be over when the feelings were so strong? Seeing him again only reinforced that.

They needed to talk. Not here. That much was obvious. Matt clearly felt awkward speaking to him around the police station and wouldn't open up. No surprise really, given it was Jamie's job that had driven them apart. It was understandable that he had negative feelings about this place.

Matt wasn't seeing anyone else. Not when he'd left him and not now. Someone would have told Jamie if he was. That bloody Annabel for a start. She would take great delight in informing him that Matt had a new lover. He still had access to Matt's Facebook profile too. Though it had hurt when he'd first changed his relationship status to single, it was a comfort now to see it remain so. Matt didn't post a lot but he was often tagged in photos posted by others. Jamie looked at those pictures with a mixture of dread and excitement. But there were no signs that he'd found a new man yet.

No. Matt was still very much single. Seeing him this week, after so long apart, maybe that was a sign for them to get their act together.

Jamie was man enough to make the first move.

No time like the present. He would do it tonight. Go around to Matt's place after work. They would have that long-overdue talk. Put right their differences.

He had this weekend off so the timing was perfect. He would take Matt out. They could go up to Newcastle, to the multiplex cinema in town. Grab a pizza. There was a new Channing Tatum movie out this week. A perfect date movie.

Yes, he resolved. Enough messing around. It was time to win Matt back.

He headed to the locker room. He knew he looked like shit. He'd been up half the night. His eyes, which were naturally dark anyway, resembled two coal pits. But he had plenty of time. He'd go home, grab a couple of hours' sleep. Have a long bath and a shave. Smarten up. He would look like a very different man when he knocked at Jamie's door that night.

“Dench,” Richie Rogers, a detective constable in Jamie's division, hollered through the open locker room door. “Wilmhurst is looking for you!”

“What for?”

“Fuck knows. But he's got a real mean face on. Better not keep him waiting.”

Damn. It had been a long and difficult day. The last thing he needed was the inspector nagging him for a fuck up he wasn't yet aware of.

DCI Wilmhurst was a tall, hook-nosed man in his late fifties. He was always immaculately dressed in three-piece suits and polished brogues. His tough, no nonsense attitude commanded respect from his team. Wilmhurst was a man who demanded efficiency from his staff. Mistakes may be human but Wilmhurst didn't tolerate them.

He was typing as Jamie knocked on his office door. Barely glancing in his direction, he barked, “Come in. Sit.”

Jamie did as he was told, sitting patiently while Wilmhurst rattled the keyboard, designer glasses perched on the end of his hawk nose. Finally the inspector stopped and focused his scrutinizing gaze on Jamie.

“Good result with the drug squad today?”

“Yes, sir. Every last suspect was brought in.”

“Good. How did you mind working for a different unit?”

Oh no—tough question to answer without pissing someone off. What did Wilmhurst want to hear? It was no secret within the force that Jamie was climbing the career ladder. He'd been accused of brown nosing his bosses, but he saw every job as a chance to impress.

“I appreciate every opportunity I'm given to experience the full range of police work, sir.”

Wilmhurst took off his glasses and looked at him more closely for a good thirty seconds. “All right. You've got your wish. I've been asked to spare two of my officers to help out MIT investigating these murders in the city. I'm putting you forward.”

Jamie's pulse quickened. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don't know how long the secondment will last but I can't let you go permanently. I'll make moves to get you back in a couple of weeks if they don't release you first.”

“Thank you, sir. I really do appreciate your faith in me. This is a wonderful opportunity.”

“Hmm.” He put his glasses back on. “Two young men are dead. I don't know what's
wonderful
about that. Report to DCI Frank Redgrave at the city center station, seven a.m. tomorrow. I'll see you in two weeks.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Secondment to the murder squad. Yes, the next step on the career ladder. He would do all he could to make sure he stayed up there.

Chapter Six

Getting ready for his date with Dale was a more hurried affair than Matt had hoped. He didn't get out of the police station until almost six and was pissed to find Annabel had left at five-fifteen. He rushed home and showered, lathering up his muscles with his favorite Molton Brown shower gel—cracked black peppercorn.

He had shaved for work that morning. There was a dark stubble across his chin but he decided to save five minutes and omit the second swipe of the razor. Dale had a full beard anyway. A little five o'clock shadow wouldn't bother him.

He dressed quickly. Snug cotton briefs, dark blue jeans and a black jersey. Dale had texted to say dinner wouldn't be anything formal. Thank God. Matt spent all day in a suit. The last thing he wanted in the evening was to put on another shirt and tie.

He was finally ready a full fifteen minutes before his taxi was due. Time enough for a drink to steady his nerves. He wasn't nervous exactly, it was more like excitement. A giddy sensation in his chest that spread all through his body.

He fixed a vodka and Coke and carried it into the living room, where he could watch for the arrival of his taxi. He dialed up a playlist of pop music on his iPod and let it play, dancing excitedly from one foot to the other.

Did Dale dance? Probably not. He didn't look like that kind of guy. Nightclubs and gay bars were probably not his scene. Not that it was Matt's idea of a good time either. He preferred the atmosphere of a good pub and live music to the hedonistic beat of a club. He'd learn more about Dale tonight and discover what they had in common.

Car headlights swept across the room. He moved toward the window. If this was the taxi, it was early.

A man walked up the drive.

Matt's heart sank when he saw who it was.

Jamie.

Of all the times.

Matt met him at the front door.

“Hey.” Jamie beamed. He looked much fresher than he had at the police station that afternoon. He wore jeans, an open-necked shirt and jacket. He'd had a shave too. Matt smelled his aftershave before he reached the door. Subtle, it wasn't.

“Hi,” Matt said carefully. Some sixth sense warned him Jamie was after something. “Is something wrong?”

“No. I just wanted to talk to you. Mind if I come in?”

“It's not a good time, Jamie. I'm on my way out.”

“Oh.” His smile faltered. “I thought we could talk, that's all. Can I come back later?”

“Not really. I don't know what time I'll be home. It could be late.”

Jamie suddenly looked nervous. Matt had an awful hunch he knew what this was about. Something they had resolved months ago. He
knew
something had been going through Jamie's mind this afternoon. He should have predicted this.

“Seeing you again this week has made me realize that it's not really over between us.”

“You're wrong, Jamie. It is over.”

“How can you say that? We were so good together. Not perfect. I know that. Nothing ever is. But we were a good match, weren't we? I can be moody and difficult, but I was better when I was with you.
You
made me better.” His dark eyes implored. “Please, Matt. Don't leave it like this. Give me another chance. C'mon, please.”

How could they be playing this bloody scene again?

“Jamie, I've given you other chances. Lots of them. We didn't break up without trying. We tried damn hard to make things work between us. But they didn't. Don't bring it all up again. You need to move on.”

“I can't.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“I have,” Matt said softly, hating himself for the pain his words caused. The anguish was clear on Jamie's face. “Sorry, but it's true. I'm not saying this to hurt you, but I've moved on. You must too.”

“I don't believe you. I felt it this afternoon. There's still something there.”

“There isn't.” God, how many times had he said this already? Their relationship hadn't come to an abrupt end. It had died a slow death. Jamie had always looked back with a rose-tinted perspective. Even their good times hadn't been that great. “Look, I'm going on a date tonight. I wouldn't have been so cruel as to tell you that but you leave me no choice.”

He stared at Matt with wide, wounded eyes. Betrayed eyes. “With who?”

“No one you know. Someone I've only just met.”

“Are you fucking him?”

“No. We've just met,” he snapped, and was immediately angry at having to defend his behavior. “It's none of your business who I fuck. One man or fifty, I'll sleep with whomever I want. You know why? Because I'm single and I can.”

Jamie's face twisted. Matt thought he was going to cry. It was an expression he'd come to know well. Jamie opened his mouth wide and sucked in deep breaths, fighting the urge to let the tears spill. His eyes glistened.

“Fine,” he choked. “Do… Do what you want.”

He turned and hurried to his car. On other nights, Matt would have gone after him. Maybe tonight, under different circumstances, he'd have followed him again, but he stayed where he was. The emotional cord had been severed. Jamie might be stuck in the past but Matt meant what he had said. He was moving on.

Jamie's unwelcome appearance couldn't spoil the night. Not a chance. Jamie would say he was being heartless but there was nothing he could do. That chapter of his life was over.

It was time to start a new one.

****

Matt was meeting Dale in town, at the bar of the River House Hotel. He'd only been there once before for a private function, but whoever had recommended this place to Dale had chosen well. It was a traditional hotel in keeping with the ancient city. Decorated in a modern, yet classic style. It was quiet and understated. They wouldn't have to worry about the public outrage surrounding Dale's TV show in a place like this.

He headed straight to the bar. As predicted it was small and quiet. A couple of businessmen sat at a table in one corner. A woman in a smart suit was having a glass of wine alone.

“Over here.” A familiar American accent caused his heart to skip.

Dale rose from a sofa in another corner of the room. Something inside Matt went crazy at the sight of him.

Take it easy. Be cool.

Dale looked amazing in dark blue jeans, which clung perfectly to his solid thighs. He wore a red checked shirt with the top two buttons undone, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his chest. Just a hint of body hair showing. He smelled good too. A fresh, expensive smelling scent that was perfectly suited to him. It struck him, not for the first time, just how good-looking Dale was.

My God, he's simply beautiful
.

“Come on, take a seat.”

Matt's butt had barely touched the sofa when a waitress appeared with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.

“Hope you're not hungry yet,” Dale said, smiling wide, showing great white teeth. “I thought we could have a drink before going through to the restaurant.”

“No, I'm good.” The truth was he had no appetite for anything but Dale. He had never been smitten so quickly by anyone. His eyes roamed, trying to take in all of him. Those dazzlingly blue eyes. That smile. His hands. His chest. His hair.
How did I get so lucky?

“Are you okay?” Dale asked, still smiling.

Matt pulled himself together. He was acting like a randy teenager. “Absolutely.” They raised their glasses. “Cheers.”

The champagne was cold and dry. Delicious.

“How are you anyway? Tough couple of days, eh?” He'd caught the local news in the car on the way home. The controversy about
Blood Falls on Stone
had not abated. It was getting worse.

“Hanging in there. This has all come out of the blue. The saddest thing is that the press is more interested in what
we're
doing than they are in the actual victims. Real people are dead. We're just pretending. It's messed up.”

“I think it's the combination of the two that makes it so newsworthy. A local tragedy together with the glamor and excitement of a TV show. It must be like Christmas to these reporters.”

“I just wish they'd move their attentions to what matters, rather than what we're doing. Know what I'm saying?”

“I do. But murder, that's not a very common event in a small city. Especially crimes of this kind. Most of the murders I've encountered in my career have been domestic in nature. Big budget TV dramas—well, they're even rarer in a place like this.”

“Let's not talk about it,” Dale said, fixing him with his beautiful eyes. “I came to get away from all that. Tonight I want to find out all about you.”

His nerves evaporated quickly. Dale was such an easy man to be around. As they took their time drinking the champagne, Matt told him about his life and his work. He opened up in a way he wouldn't have thought possible with a man he'd only just met.

“So you are single?” Dale asked with a twinkle in his eyes. “I don't want to go stepping on anyone's toes.”

“Yes,” he said. “I'm very single. I have been for about three months.” That was as much as he wanted to say about Jamie. There was a story he didn't feel like sharing, especially after tonight's little drama.

After an hour they went into the restaurant. Like the bar, it was intimate. There were only ten tables and tonight just six other diners. It was decorated with a library theme. Rows of leather-bound volumes covered one wall, while portraits of famous authors adorned the others.

A soft-spoken waiter seated them and presented the wine list.

“More wine?” Matt joked. “On a school night?”

“Ah, let's live a little. I don't know about you but I fully intend to take a rain check on old Clint's boot camp tomorrow morning.”

“I don't think there's any chance of me making it.”

“Good.” Dale looked at the menu. “Any preference?”

“Red,” Matt answered. “After the champagne, I feel like something deep and rich.”

Dale ordered a bottle of Amarone.

Two bottles of wine on a weeknight. There was no way Matt would rise for boot camp after that. He'd have to be careful driving to work in the morning too. Maybe he should call Annabel and get her to pick him up. She owed him a favor after today's police station stunt.

They took their time over the menu. Matt wasn't in the mood for anything heavy. He chose pan-fried scallops with chorizo and black pudding to start and sea bass with potato croquets and crushed peas for his main course.

“What's black pudding?” Dale asked.

“It's kind of a sausage made from pig's blood and oatmeal. It sounds disgusting when described like that but trust me, it's absolutely delicious.”

“Okay,” Dale said warily. “I'll take your word for that but all the same, I'll pass.” He ordered the same starter minus the black pudding and a medium steak for his main course. “It's not adventurous, I know, but if steak is an option I can never resist. I hear they're great here too. From a butcher's right across the street.”

It was a fantastic meal in wonderful company. As the plates came and went, they gently quizzed each other, opening up about their pasts. Matt had never met a real celebrity before, but there was no ego to Dale. He was as normal and down to earth as any guy he knew.

He talked about growing up in Pennsylvania and the importance of family and his son.

“How long were you married?” Matt asked.

“Eight years.” Dale took a sip of wine before saying, “I don't regret it. Not a bit. But I do regret staying married to Laura for so long. I held her back. If we'd got divorced sooner she could have got on with her life. Ours was a marriage in name only most of the time. We have a great relationship now and if we hadn't been together I wouldn't have such a fantastic son.”

Matt nodded thoughtfully. “I never had that doubt. You know, about sex. I only ever liked other boys. The notion of getting together with a girl… It was never a possibility.”

Dale shrugged. “I always knew I liked guys but it took me a long time to accept it. I was in my late twenties before I realized this wasn't just a phase. That I wasn't going to grow out of it.”

“Being in the public eye can't have helped.”

“No. Not when your career amounts to playing the boyfriend of the hot chick. Those roles didn't amount to much but they were all I had. If word got out that I liked dick, those one-dimensional parts would be passed to the next pretty boy. In order to keep working, I had to keep quiet about all that.”

“Isn't it different now? There are so many openly gay actors. They all get work.”

Dale rolled his eyes. “And what work do they get? The gay kids in
Glee
. The gay men in HBO comedies and dramas. I'm not putting that down, it's just not for me. Besides, it's not only my career I have to think about. I don't want my son to grow up being bullied as the kid with the fag dad on TV. Maybe when he's older it won't be such a big deal. But I can't do that to him. Not yet.”

The waiter returned to ask if they wanted dessert. They were both too full but ordered liqueur coffees to finish the meal. Matt couldn't stop looking at Dale the whole time. The color of his eyes looked deeper than the Atlantic in the soft light of the restaurant. Dale looked right back at him, a sexy smile on his lips.

“So… What now?”

Matt's spine prickled. “Well… What do you suggest?”

“We're taking it as a given that we're blowing off boot camp in the morning?”

“Absolutely.”

Dale leaned in closer. Matt mirrored him.

“Then I want to fuck you,” Dale said slowly, eyes sparkling. “I've wanted it since you walked in. To tell the truth, I've wanted it since I set eyes on you on Monday. Your face, your body, your ass—you've been driving me crazy.”