Twenty Times Tempted: A Sexy Contemporary Romance Collection

by Petrova, Em

  Balkhi cleared his throat. “Um, that is okay. I think. If it is okay with you? If it makes you uncomfortable, I can make up some kind of excuse to your mother. One that will not upset or offend her. At least if I do make up an excuse, I can always head to the hotel anyway and give you some time alone with your family.”

  “No, it’s fine. Everything’s going to be fine.” He suspected he was trying to reassure himself as much as he was Balkhi, but deep down, he honestly felt that things would turn out okay.

  “But you have not cancelled the hotel room?”

  “Only because I haven’t had chance. I’d literally been off the phone with my mother for a couple of minutes before your train arrived. It doesn’t really matter, anyway. It was non-refundable because it was such a short notice booking, so I wouldn’t get my money back in any case. They won’t care if anyone turns up or not.”

  “Okay. Maybe it is better that way. We have a backup, then, if something was to go wrong.”

  Wilkes’ heart fluttered. Balkhi seemed pretty determined that the hotel room was a better idea than the two of them staying with Wilkes’ parents. Did he know something Wilkes didn’t? Have some kind of sixth sense about these things? Or was he simply convinced it was all going to blow up in their faces and start a huge argument?

  His heartbeat went back to normal when he glimpsed the expression on Balkhi’s face. It was pensive, thoughtful. This was nothing to do with anything bad, not really. Balkhi was just as nervous as he was, but was trying to hide it, so as not to make Wilkes’ nerves even worse.

  Taking Balkhi’s hand and giving it a squeeze, Wilkes smiled, pushing his worries to the very back of his mind. “Okay. Yes, you’re right. Backup is always a good idea. We know that more than most people. But please try to relax. I know I’m biased but my folks are nice. They really are going to love you, just like I do.”

  “I hope not just like you do!”

  Laughing, Wilkes slapped Balkhi playfully on the back of the hand he’d been holding, then put his hand back on the steering wheel. “All right, all right, smart arse. Not in exactly the same way, okay? Come on, it’s going to be fun. And you’ll get to see all those chickens we spoke about before, won’t you?”

  He paused, waiting to see if Balkhi remembered what he was referring to. Way back on the very first day they’d met, they’d hit it off almost instantly, and had fallen to chatting. They’d been talking about where Wilkes was from back in the UK, and Balkhi had commented, jokingly, that there was nothing outside of London, just fields full of chickens. Wilkes had been delighted to discover his new interpreter was not only smart, but had a wicked sense of humour and a wonderful grasp of Brits and their ways, too. He’d known that Balkhi would fit in well with him and the rest of the squadron, and he’d been right. He was equally sure that he would fit in well with his family, too.

  After a beat, Balkhi’s brain apparently supplied the memory, and there was humour in his voice as he replied, “Yes, the chickens. All those millions of chickens. I look forward very much to seeing them.”

  “Excellent. You keep a watch on them, and in about three hours you’ll be able to meet my folks, and the dog. He keeps the chickens from coming too close to the house.”

  “As long as he does not keep me away from the house, or chase me.”

  “He won’t. He might lick you to death, but that’s as scary as it gets.”

  “I hope you are right.”

  Chapter Twelve

  After trying to reassure Balkhi that Stanley wouldn’t do anything untoward, Wilkes had steered the conversation onto safer topics. They’d chatted happily about everything and nothing, and Wilkes really enjoyed it. The previous weekend had been amazing, of course, but the fact they’d been alone in Balkhi’s flat meant that the possibility and opportunity for sex was a major distraction. It wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but they had spent a considerable amount of their private time getting down and dirty.

  Therefore, the trip up to Wolverhampton meant they could talk about whatever they liked with no danger of being overheard, yet they didn’t have the temptation of sex hanging over them. Not that they weren’t thinking about sex, just that they couldn’t do it. Wilkes had thought about it when they’d taken a bathroom break at a service station on the motorway, but had quickly come to the conclusion that, much as he wanted Balkhi pretty much constantly, screwing in public toilets was absolutely not sexy, and not their scene. He’d rather stick with memories of their previous sexual encounters to get him through until they could make some more memories.

  By the time they were getting to within a five mile radius of his parents’ house, Wilkes felt that even if nothing else went right this weekend—though he was sure everything would be fine—the nearly three hour chat with Balkhi had been amazing. He knew lots more about his boyfriend than he had before they’d departed, which just went to show that even spending six months constantly together in a desert didn’t mean you knew someone inside out. Some of the things he’d learned, too, had simply added to Wilkes’ admiration for the other man. Things Balkhi had seen, done, learned, taught... yes, he was biased, but his lover was a truly amazing individual, and he couldn’t wait to introduce him to his family so they could see just how lucky he’d gotten.

  “Not too far, now,” Wilkes said cheerily, glancing across at Balkhi.

  Balkhi flashed a tight smile back. “Okay, great.”

  Knowing how nervous Balkhi was, Wilkes kept quiet. He didn’t know what to say to make him feel better, that he hadn’t said already. Instead, he reached over and squeezed Balkhi’s knee, hoping the contact might provide some comfort.

  They didn’t have long to wait now, anyway. The anticipation was worse than the actual reality would be.

  Turning the corner into his parents’ street, he said, “This is their road.”

  His whole body tensing, Balkhi said, “Looks nice.”

  “Yep.” Wilkes’ stomach fluttered a little. Okay, maybe he wasn’t quite as cool as a cucumber about this whole situation, but then who would be? It was nerve wracking having your family meet a new partner for the first time, full stop. Never mind the fact that in this case, said family had no idea their relative was gay and that his boyfriend was an Afghan Muslim who’d once been his interpreter for the British Army.

  Steering the car onto his parents’ driveway, Wilkes fought to keep his expression neutral. It wouldn’t do to make Balkhi even more nervous.

  By the time he’d pulled on his handbrake, put the gear stick into the neutral position and turned off the engine, Joy Wilkes had opened the front door and was rapidly approaching.

  Smiling widely at his mother, Wilkes then muttered, “Just be yourself, Rustam. She will love you. I do.”

  Balkhi didn’t get a chance to reply, because Mrs Wilkes had opened the driver’s side door and was all but dragging Hugh out of it. “Darling! I’ve missed you so much!”

  “Hang on, Mum! I’ve not even got my seatbelt off, yet.”

  Giggling, she waited for her son to emerge from the vehicle before pulling him in for a huge hug. Hugging her back, Wilkes felt his trepidation melt away, to be replaced with happiness. He adored his mother, his family, and was glad he was about to reveal the very thing he’d been keeping from them for so long.

  Kissing her cheek, he smiled as the scent of her favourite perfume invaded his nostrils. For as long as he could remember she’d worn the same perfume, and to him, it represented safety, and love. “Mum,” he said, gently disentangling from her and turning to indicate Balkhi, who’d emerged from the car and was standing awkwardly by the boot, “this is the friend I was telling you about. Rustam Balkhi, meet my mother, Joy Wilkes. Mum, meet Rustam.”

  Without missing a beat, Joy stepped over to Balkhi and gave him a hug, too. Not the huge kind she’d given her son, but one much more appropriate for a person she’d never met before. Kissing his cheek, she then pulled back and said, “It’s very nice to meet you, Rustam. I’ve got the guest room all set up f
or you. You’ll be much more comfortable here than in some impersonal hotel. We’ll look after you.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Wilkes,” Balkhi replied, and Wilkes thought he saw a little colour in his boyfriend’s cheeks. Was it nerves, or embarrassment? “It is very kind of you to let me stay in your home.”

  Joy waved her hand dismissively. “I won’t have any friend of my son’s staying in a hotel, not if I’ve got a perfectly good room going spare. And please call me Joy.”

  “I will try to remember,” he replied, with a small smile. “Please do not tell me off if I forget.”

  Wilkes let go a tiny sigh of relief. It looked as though his mother had already put Balkhi at ease, at least a little bit. And if he carried on saying cute things like that, he’d have her eating out of his palm within five minutes. Rustam Balkhi was a charmer, even if he didn’t know it.

  “Right,” Wilkes said, stepping up next to the two of them and reaching over to open the car boot, “shall we get our stuff inside, Mum? Is anyone else here yet?”

  He’d told a little white lie to his mother on the telephone. He wanted to make sure she, his father and his siblings were all at the house on Friday night, so he and Balkhi could break their news ahead of the big birthday meal on Saturday. He couldn’t come out and say that, though, so he’d had to come up with an excuse that he wanted to spend time with his immediate family before the madness that would ensue the following evening. He had no idea if everyone had bought the excuse, or questioned it, but Joy had accepted his request and said she would do her best to make sure everyone was there.

  “Everyone’s here, darling, except for Lacey. But she’s on her way, last I heard. Apparently Alexander has been a little off-colour today, so she was making sure he was settled down properly in bed before heading over here. You know how he can be.”

  Wilkes nodded. Alexander, his nephew, was a great kid, but when he was feeling clingy, nobody but his mummy would do. Fortunately, it didn’t happen very often, so hopefully she’d got him calmed down and was indeed, on her way. He didn’t want to have to sit around too long, sipping tea and making small talk with everyone else while they waited for her.

  “I’ll go and get the kettle on, boys. I take it you’ll have your usual, Hugh. And Rustam, what would you like to drink?”

  “Tea, please, Mrs—Joy. White, one sugar. Thank you.”

  “No problem, sweetheart. You two go on up and take your stuff upstairs, and I’ll see you in the living room in a few minutes.”

  She headed back into the house, leaving Wilkes and Balkhi to get themselves sorted out.

  Quietly, Wilkes said, “See, told you she’d love you.”

  Balkhi’s smile was a little wider this time.

  Five minutes later, Wilkes had dumped his bag on his bed, shown Balkhi to the room next door, and they’d traipsed back down the stairs and into the living room.

  Wilkes was immediately lost in a flurry of hugs and back-slapping from his father and brothers. He’d barely emerged when he realised that somewhere in the melee, Lacey had turned up and was kissing and hugging him.

  Finally, he was able to turn to Balkhi, who was perched on one of the spare chairs, cradling his cup of tea and nervously flicking his gaze from the members of the Wilkes family to Stanley, who was examining him with interest.

  “Everyone, this is Rustam Balkhi.” He pointed to each person in turn as he introduced them. “Rustam, this is my father, John. My sister, Lacey. My younger brother, Joe. And my oldest brother, Ben. Phew. That’s all of them, but there will be lots more tomorrow. Partners and kids and aunts and uncles. But for now, this is the gang. And I see you’ve met Stanley.”

  “Hello, everyone. Is it very nice to meet you.” He raised his cup of tea in a kind of “cheers” gesture, and Wilkes chuckled.

  “We normally save that for when we’ve got booze, but yeah, tea works.” He raised his own cup, by now handed to him by his mother, then took a sip. Seeing the madness had calmed, Stanley loped over for some fuss, which Wilkes willingly and enthusiastically gave.

  Once everyone had settled down into chairs and gotten their refreshments collected or topped up, he shot a quick glance at Balkhi, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

  Okay, he said to himself. This is it. No going back.

  The silence hung for a few seconds while Wilkes screwed up his courage. Fuck. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any more awkward than falling in love with your Afghan interpreter, it bloody well does.

  “Guys, listen up!” he said brightly, immediately snapping everyone’s attention to him. “I’ve got you here under slightly false pretences, I’m afraid. Not that I didn’t want to see you all, of course. I did, and I do. I’ve missed you terribly.” Stop stalling, Wilkes, you pussy! “But, my real reason for getting you here is to tell you my news. You see, uh, Rustam here has come with me this weekend for a reason. I’ve wanted to tell you all this for some time, but haven’t quite found the right moment. But recently I’ve come to realise there’s no point in keeping quiet any longer.” He cleared his throat. “I’m gay, everyone. I’m gay, and Rustam is my boyfriend. We met out in Afghanistan on my last tour. He was my interpreter. At some point, we fell in love and have been together ever since.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Wilkes had predicted the silence that followed as his statement sunk into the various pairs of ears. He’d have been more worried if there hadn’t been a silence.

  But what he hadn’t predicted, and couldn’t possibly have done, not even in a month of Sundays, was what happened next. There was lots of glancing around, exchanging of meaningful looks, then his mother finally broke the silence.

  “Oh, darling! We know. We’ve always known!” At that, she hurried over and swept Wilkes up into a hug, almost causing him to spill his tea.

  She pulled away after a moment, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “Well,” she added with a smile over at Balkhi, “we didn’t know about Rustam here, of course, but we knew you were gay.”

  “You did?” Wilkes’ tone was incredulous, and so high that Stanley cocked his head to one side on hearing it. His heart skipping, he looked around at his father, brothers and sister, who were all nodding and wore knowing expressions.

  “Yes,” John Wilkes said firmly. “We’ve known for a long time, son. And it doesn’t matter one bit, not to any of us. Never has done.”

  Wilkes acknowledged his father’s words with a smile and a nod, then looked over at Balkhi who was watching proceedings, but keeping quiet.

  “We’d hoped you’d tell us long before now, Hugh, sweetheart,” Joy said, ruffling her hand over his cropped hair, then leaning down to drop a kiss onto it. “But the fact you’re telling us now, and introducing us to Rustam at the same time, is wonderful. And it obviously means he’s special to you.” She gave Balkhi a wink, causing his cheeks to flush adorably.

  “Yes,” Lacey cut in, directing her words at Balkhi. “It is wonderful, and I’m so glad you’re here, Rustam. I’m pleased my brother has someone that makes him happy, and I look forward to getting to know you better over the next couple of days, and hopefully after that, too.”

  Now all eyes were on Balkhi, who shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. Lifting his cup to his lips, he appeared about to take a sip, then a look of surprise crossed his face. It seemed he’d already downed the liquid, meaning he couldn’t now use that excuse to delay his response and buy himself some time to formulate a response.

  After a beat, he smiled nervously. “Thank you for being so welcoming, everyone. I am very glad to be here, to be meeting all of you. And I also look forward to getting to know you all better. Hugh makes me very happy, too, so I am delighted to know that I make him happy. I hope I can continue to do so for a very long time.”

  The two women made “awww” noises, John cleared his throat loudly, and Joe and Ben remained silent, but smiled politely.

  “Well,” Wilkes said, clearing his own throat. “Now that’s over and done with, sha
ll we change the subject? Or does anyone have any burning questions? If so, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  Joe sniggered. “Don’t flatter yourself, bro. I know that must have been super-hard for you, and I’m really proud of you for doing it, but you ain’t all that interesting, buddy. Now, Rustam, on the other hand...”

  Having effectively closed the book on the topic, Joe turned to Balkhi and began asking him questions. Not in a Spanish Inquisition manner, more a casual, I’ve-never-met-you-before-and-want-to-learn-about-you way. The rest of the Wilkes family were equally interested in the answers to Joe’s questions, so they listened in quietly, and soon the atmosphere dialled down to relaxed.

  Feeling his own tension seep away, Wilkes finished his drink and put the empty cup down, then sat back in his chair and beckoned to Stanley, who’d wandered off in the interim. The dog plonked himself on Wilkes’ feet, leaning his big back against Wilkes’ shins, and panted happily as he was petted.

  Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Wilkes smiled fondly at the dog as he scratched behind his ears, down his neck and around to his chest. He was glad to have something to occupy him while Balkhi was talking to his family. Naturally, he was listening, too, but he could at least look at Stanley instead of Balkhi, and hopefully not add to the pressure that had to be on Balkhi as he spoke.

  Fortunately, the questions were about Balkhi specifically, rather than he and Wilkes as a couple. His background, his family, his education, his job, how he’d ended up interpreting for the British Army, what his future plans were, and so on. Just the usual things a person would ask, having just met you—except in Balkhi’s case, the answers were much more intriguing than the average person.

  After a while, Joy got up and went over to her middle son. Giving Stanley a scratch beneath his hairy chin and getting a hearty lick on the face for her trouble, she said, “Want to come and help me in the kitchen, sweetheart? I’m going to get some nibbles sorted out for everyone. They were supposed to be for tomorrow, but I bought plenty, so there’ll be enough.”