by Nic Starr
Runaway
By Nic Starr
Dr Nathan Powell is ready to settle down near his family, and hopefully find the man of his dreams. He returns to the small coastal town where he grew up, but while life is simpler than it was in the city, there are also complications—like patients’ reactions to an openly gay doctor. And like running into Nate’s first love, Damien, an out-and-proud local business owner who is unwilling to be any man’s dirty secret. The reunion reignites old desire even while it stirs up Nate’s guilt over the way things ended with Damien.
When Nate’s nephew runs away, Damien accompanies Nate on his mission to find the young man. The drive to Sydney, and the search of the city, gives Nate time to reconnect with Damien—and to wonder if he made the right decision years ago—when he determined a future for them was impossible. Is a fresh start realistic for two men in their forties? But before he can ponder the second chance they’ve been given, Nate must locate his nephew.
World of Love: Stories of romance that span every corner of the globe.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Acknowledgments
PROLOGUE
Chapter ONE
Chapter TWO
Chapter THREE
Chapter FOUR
Chapter FIVE
Chapter SIX
Chapter SEVEN
Chapter EIGHT
Chapter NINE
Chapter TEN
More from Nic Starr
About the Author
By Nic Starr
Visit Dreamspinner Press
Copyright
To everyone who has ever felt the need to run away. I hope you found your way back home.
Acknowledgments
MY HEARTFELT thanks to Robyn, Susan, and Becky, for your valuable feedback and kind words about my story.
PROLOGUE
WHAT WAS it they said about Australia? Something about it being the lucky country?
It sure felt that way today. In fact, it had felt that way every day since the holidays had started. What was there to complain about with another whole month to look forward to before school went back? Endless days spent at the beach, riding the new skateboard he’d got for Christmas, and just hanging out. No school, no homework. Nate’s smile only dulled for a moment as he thought of the full-on year ahead—all his years of study so far had led up to this last year of high school that was approaching so fast, and his future rested on him doing well. His final results would determine what path his career would take. He pushed those serious thoughts aside. Sure he might pick up his books a little over the holidays, but there’d be time to knuckle down come February.
His smile returned when he saw the real reason for his happiness.
Nate couldn’t take his eyes off the other boy cutting across the park. He walked with a sure confidence in his easy gait. He was most likely nearly fully grown, having had a growth spurt this past year. But unlike the others in their class who hadn’t adapted to their new height and muscles, this boy rocked his muscled form.
“Hey,” Damien greeted as he lowered himself onto the bench, sitting close enough that the heat from his strong thigh radiated across the negligible distance between them. “How you going, Hot Shot?”
“Hey, D,” Nate responded, then punched the guy. “I’ve told you not to call me that.”
“So you get to shorten my name to D, and I don’t get to give you a nickname?”
Nate rolled his eyes. He was all long limbs, tall and gangly, and felt uncomfortable that his ability to study well had dumped him in the dork bucket. “Yeah, but can’t you pick something else? Something that doesn’t make me sound like a total nerd.”
“Maybe I’m not referring to your awesome brains, genius.” Damien winked, and Nate felt his cheeks immediately flush. Damien thankfully changed the subject. “You got the kiddo here?”
Nate nodded. “Yeah. She’s playing on the monkey bars. I don’t have to watch her all day, though, just till Mum gets back from the shops. Maybe we can head to the beach then? Get in a few waves?”
“Cool.” Damien leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, and surveyed the playground. Damien’s profile was strong, with an angular nose and a square jaw, but it was the five-o’clock shadow that Nate found mesmerising. His hand unconsciously went to his chin where the skin was relatively smooth. Unlike Damien, who had to shave every day, he only needed to run the razor across his jaw once a week. There was something about that stubble that turned him on, almost more than the muscles on Damien’s chest and shoulders, one of the advantages of being athletic. Nate’s dick started to fill, but nothing surprising there—he was always only a moment away from an erection if Damien was anywhere near.
Damien suddenly looked his way, and his knowing glance caused another flush. This time Nate wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or just pure lust.
“C’mon.” Damien stood and tilted his head in the direction of the clubhouse and amenities building.
Nate gave his little sister a quick glance and, seeing her playing with a group of other young kids, felt comfortable about leaving her for a few minutes. They lived in a small town, the playground area was busy, and a number of his mum’s friends were there.
It was quiet behind the clubhouse, the building backing up against the old paling fence that ran the length of the park, separating it from the homes behind. Nate had only just stepped into the shaded coolness when Damien grabbed his wrist and yanked him into a hug. Strong arms came around him as his chest pressed up against a wall of muscle. Nate huffed at the impact, then whatever air was left in his lungs disappeared as Damien took his mouth in a kiss. Jesus. He loved the way Damien kissed: no hesitation, just total control. The rough scrape of stubble contrasted with smooth lips and just a hint of tongue as they came together. The kiss deepened as he fell into Damien’s embrace, tilting his face up to give Damien better access to his mouth. He luxuriated in the heat that coursed through him, and the immediate fullness in his groin. Damien pushed his thigh between his legs and the pressure was excruciatingly good.
Everything faded away apart from the feel of Damien pressed flush against his body and the rightness of Damien holding him so tightly. Children’s laughter softened to a distant drone, drifting across the summer afternoon and mixing with the call of the ever-present seagulls that flocked along the coast. Nate’s pulse thundered in his ears, but it wasn’t just lust; it was warmth that filled his heart.
However, his joy was short-lived when an older man rounded the corner of the building, his boots crunching through the leaf litter and small branches that scattered the ground.
They broke apart immediately, Nate’s heart suddenly in his throat as the man turned up his nose with a look of disgust. His revulsion was plain to see, the hatred clear in his piercing gaze and the downturned corners of his mouth. He gave them one last look and retreated the way he had come.
Before Damien could say a word, Nate tried to pull even farther away, but Damien held his biceps, preventing him moving far. “It’s okay. It was only the gardener.”
Damien meant his words to be reassuring, but it wasn’t okay. It didn’t matter who the man was. Nate had never been caught with a boy before, not that he’d been with any other boys, but what if his parents found out? He wasn’t ready to tell them. He wasn’t even sure what to tell them. The fear and confusion was overwhelming despite Damien’s calm concern. He shook himself loose of Damien’s grip and took a step backwards, nearly falling on his arse as he shook his friend—sort-of boyfriend—free. Before Damien could stop him, he turned on his heels and raced back to the playground.
Nate grabbed his sister, pulling her from her small group of friends.
“Where are we going?”
�
�We’re going home.”
“But I don’t want to go home yet. I haven’t finished playing. Me and Sally are going to make—”
He tugged her toward the park gates. “I’ll get you some ice cream.” She continued to protest, even with the lure of a Mr Whippy.
As they exited the park, he heard two things over his sister’s whingeing. First, the hissed whisper from the old man: “Pervert. You shouldn’t be allowed around that little girl.” And secondly, Damien calling out for him to stop.
He gripped his sister’s hand tighter and kept on walking. Although he wanted to wait for Damien, he ached to run, to run far away from the hatred, and he couldn’t stop as the man’s words continued to ring in his ears.
Pervert, pervert, pervert.
Chapter ONE
NATE LEANED a hip against the kitchen bench, hands wrapped around a heavy mug, as he sipped the now tepid tea. Even lukewarm it was soothing, reminding him of the many cups he’d enjoyed with his sister in this very kitchen. Just as quickly his mood soured as he thought back on the countless shared pots of tea they’d missed out on while he had been living in the city. When he’d left all those years ago, he never thought he’d be back so infrequently, but twelve years had sped by, with his visits home being few and far between.
“So how are things going at the salon, sis?” He placed the mug on the well-worn laminate and picked up a tea towel.
“Busy,” Trish said.
“Good busy, or bad busy?”
Trish looked up from the washing-up and raised one perfectly manicured brow. “There’s a difference?”
“Sure. Busy, business is going well. Busy, things are out of control and I’m about to have a nervous breakdown.”
“I’ll take option one.” She grabbed his empty mug with one pink rubber-gloved hand and plunged it into the suds. “The appointment book is full, and the new beauty services are really taking off. You won’t believe how many people want a Brazilian.”
“Mummy, what’s a Brazi—” Belinda, age twelve going on thirty, looked up from her books to ask.
“Why don’t you focus on your word puzzle?”
Belinda rolled her eyes at Trish’s back and Nate bit back a laugh as he winked at Belinda. She grinned and picked up her pen, focusing on the book once again.
Although Brazilian waxes definitely weren’t his thing, he was proud of Trish and the way she’d expanded her business, starting out as a hairdresser, eventually buying the salon and now growing their range of services. She’d only been sixteen when she’d fallen pregnant with her oldest child, Jackson, and she’d worked hard to support her small family, when her partner had left. The arsehole had deemed having two kids so early in life had robbed him of enjoying his youth, so he had packed his bags only months after Belinda had been born, leaving then-twenty-year-old Trish with two kids to raise on her own.
The familiar surge of guilt flared as he thought of her struggling here by herself.
“Stop it.” Trish’s stern words forced his gaze back on her. “I know what you’re thinking and you can cut it out right now. I don’t have a single regret and neither should you. You did what you needed to do, and I did what I needed to do. Just because I made a mist—” She glanced at Belinda, her blonde head bent over the book in concentration, and her tone softened. “Just because my life took an unexpected turn didn’t mean you had to give up on your dreams, hon.”
“I must say you do look happy,” Nate said as he studied his younger sister. Trish glanced up with a smile, using the back of her gloved hand to push an errant lock of her hair from her face. She glowed when she smiled, and it wasn’t hard to see where her kids got their looks from. Thick strawberry-blonde hair, big blue eyes, and wide grins: the family resemblance was amazing.
“I am happy. Belinda’s doing well at school and Jackson’s settled down.”
“What do you mean, settled down?”
Trish glanced at Belinda as she pulled off her rubber gloves. “Let’s make another cuppa and go sit in the living room.” Nate finished the drying up as she quickly made a couple of mugs of tea, and placed a glass of cordial in front of her daughter. “Uncle Nate and I are going to sit down for a bit and have a chat. I’ll come back and help you with your puzzle soon.” Belinda hardly looked up as they left, engrossed in the find-a-word.
Nate settled back into the couch cushions. “So what’s this about Jackson? Has he been having trouble?”
Worry clouded Trish’s eyes. “To be honest, I’m not 100 percent certain what’s going on with him. He’s been great up until the last six months.”
“He seems his usual self to me,” Nate mused.
“Probably because he’s been on school holidays up until now. Things are a lot more relaxed, but that might change now that school is about to go back.” The school year ran from February to December, with the longest break of the year starting just before Christmas and lasting all through January.
“Yeah, six weeks off with no school. Who wouldn’t enjoy that?” Nate chuckled at the memory of his own school holidays, most days spent at the beach or fishing with his dad on the weekends when his dad had time off work. “Got to love living in a seaside town in summer. Remember when Dad used to take us out on the boat?”
Trish’s lips turned up, but the smile was brief. “It’s not like when we were kids, Nate. I’m at work most of the time and Jackson is helping keep an eye on Belinda. He does hang out with his friends, but he doesn’t have anyone to take him fishing, and I can’t afford to pay for things like outings on boats.”
“Jeez, Trish, why didn’t you tell me?” Nate leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, as he studied his sister.
“So you could do what, exactly?” Her voice was prickly, defensive.
“I’m not criticising you, Trish. You do a great job with the kids, but you don’t have to do everything by yourself.”
“I want to do things by myself and I’m used to taking care of things on my own. There was nothing you could do from Sydney anyway.”
Guilt flooded Nate. “For starters, I could have provided a listening ear. There are phones, you know. We could have talked about it.”
This time Trish looked contrite. “I know, but—”
“No buts. Listen, we’re family, you and me, kiddo. I know I’ve lived a few hours away for a long time, but I’m still your big brother and I’m here for you. For you and the kids.” He rested his forearms on his knees and faced Trish. “So tell me, what do you need?”
Trish took a long sip of the cooling tea. “It’s not the monetary stuff. We do okay with the bills. We might not have expensive things, but the kids aren’t really lacking in anything material, and you’ve always helped out over the years with the big purchases. I guess it’s just the attention. Jackson can be a bit of a loner. He’s only got a couple of close friends in his class, and his best friend left school last year. Not to mention his dad is useless. Terry has hardly even seen his son in the last twelve months.”
Nate’s blood boiled at the mention of Terry. No kid deserved someone like Terry for a father. He was selfish and immature, and most definitely didn’t have a responsible bone in his body. “I’m sorry, Trish.” Nate covered Trish’s hand with his own. She sighed and nodded. She’d had enough years dealing with Terry to know what to expect. “Would it help if I spent some time with Jackson—more time than I do already?”
Trish’s face lit up. “I know you’re busy settling in at the clinic, but that would be wonderful. He loved every holiday he spent with you in Sydney; he couldn’t stop talking about it for weeks after he’d get home each time.” Nate had always ensured part of his annual leave was spent with his nephew and niece. Sometimes they came together, but he usually had Jackson come to stay for a week on his own, if not longer. It also gave Trish a break, allowing her to spend one-on-one time with her daughter.
“I had a great time with him too.” And he did. They’d played tourist and travelled all over Sydney together. Days spent at Taronga
Zoo, catching the ferry on the harbour, exploring the Powerhouse Museum, walking through Hyde Park. The two of them had visited the beaches and taken bushwalks in the National Parks. They’d mingled with other tourists at the Rocks and Darling Harbour. Nate had enjoyed those visits just as much as Jackson had, if not more, Jackson giving him the motivation to see more of his adopted city in those weeks than he saw the rest of the year. Then again, it was hard getting time outside of the hospital and, more recently, his practice, so time off had been limited. If it hadn’t been for Jackson, Nate would most likely have not seen much beyond the hospital walls.
“C’MON, LET’S walk.” The drizzle had eased and a walk sounded like a great idea, but if Jackson’s look was anything to go by, he didn’t agree. Nate tried again. “It’ll do you good.” Jeez, I’m sounding like my dad!
“I’ll walk,” Jackson grunted.
“Great.” Nate forced the cheerfulness into his voice. Teenage kids! He was sure their prime role was to drive adults to distraction. He thanked God he didn’t have to do this full-time, and silently praised his sister for her patience.
They stuck to the footpath, the wet cement giving off that earthy summer scent as a result of the recent shower. But given how hot the afternoon was, everything would dry off in no time.
Forster was a small town, at least compared to a city like Sydney, where Nate had lived up until recently, but it was large enough to offer a great family lifestyle. Even the wet weather hadn’t put a dampener on the activity around them. As they made their way to the wharf, they passed kids on bikes, people walking their dogs, and joggers. The salty smell of the sea grew stronger as they neared the water, and the familiar feeling of being home washed over Nate. There was something about the coast that was in his blood. Maybe because he’d been born and bred in the area, he loved the water and the sea, and felt very much at home. This was one of the reasons he’d moved back from the city—to be close to the coast and his family. He chuckled under his breath—at a bit over forty, he was finally ready to settle down.