Barging In

by Josephine Myles

  “I’m not sure. The way I grew up, I suppose. Mum met my dad while travelling in Gujarat, and I spent my childhood all over the world. Never really learnt how to settle down in one place, but then again, I reckon some people are just like that. You know, they have the wanderlust.”

  Dan nodded. “Yeah, I spent all my childhood in one house in a South London estate, but I’ve never been able to settle, either.”

  “I’m not surprised if you grew up somewhere like that. Rough, was it?”

  Dan grimaced. “Could be at times. But like Mum always says, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.” And in his case, made him want to spend his whole life on the run so he didn’t get stuck somewhere like that ever again.

  Mel’s head snapped up as if she’d had a brainwave. “I’ll tell you what angle would work better. You know the main thing that pisses us off? Bloody BW and their poisonous little rules.”

  “BW?”

  “British Waterways. We pay their wages with our licence fees, but they still hassle us to move on every two weeks. One day over and they threaten to take you to court. I knew one poor woman went into labour and had to stay in hospital for a couple of weeks; she got back with her newborn to find her boat covered in court orders. She didn’t half kick up a stink.”

  It sounded unlikely, but then what did he really know about this strange, close-knit community?

  “So, can’t you just move half a mile or so and moor up again?”

  “I wish. Doesn’t work like that, sweetie. You have to move to a new neighbourhood, although they can be pretty vague about what that actually means. They’re really strict about it around here, though. It’s a popular spot with the tourists, and they want to keep the canal clear for them.” The way she pronounced “tourists”—just like Robin had—left him in no doubt that there was animosity between them and the boaters. Did that mean the others would be suspicious of him? He wasn’t really a proper tourist, but maybe he represented all tourists with his travel writing. The thought wasn’t exactly encouraging. He’d have to turn on his high-voltage charm with these people. Should work. They were only used to 12V battery power after all—he’d dazzle them.

  “What about marinas? I’ve seen a few of them on the journey down.”

  Mel looked at him like he’d said something beneath contempt. “Have you seen how much those places cost? Most of us don’t have much. If you wanted to stay in one of those places, you’d have to get regular work, and then you may as well just move back onto dry land. What’s the point in having a boat if you don’t move around?”

  “Right. So it is poverty at the root of it.”

  She frowned. “Okay, maybe it is, but I still wouldn’t put it like that if you’re talking to anyone else.”

  “Point taken. How about if I say that I’m writing a piece about the boaters fighting to maintain their traditional way of life?”

  Mel nodded. “Could work. You’d need to get to know them, though. They don’t take kindly to outsiders poking their noses in. You saw what Robin was like.”

  “I don’t know about that. You’ve only just met me, and I’m in your boat already.”

  Mel gave a throaty laugh. “I’m not a typical boater, darling. I’m a lot friendlier than your average Marge. ‘Gits and Marges, on the barges,’” she recited in response to Dan’s quizzical look. “Tell you what, though, I could help you out if you want. Could be fun.”

  Dan grinned. “I could do with an assistant. My usual helper pulled out at the last minute.”

  “You’re on,” Mel said, holding out a hand for him to shake. “I’ll have to have a think about who we should approach first. I know a few people here already, but I’m sure there’ll be others who’ll be interested.”

  “What about Robin? He’d make a great subject.” Especially with his shirt off.

  “Would he now?” Mel tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. Could she read his mind? “I’m not sure how he’d feel about that. I hear you had a little incident earlier on.”

  Dan winced. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention. There was this incredibly hot, half-naked guy chopping wood—where was I meant to look?”

  Mel’s smile had definitely morphed into a smirk now. “I thought so. One of my favourite canal-side sights, that is.”

  “So, are you and he…”

  “Just good friends. Why do you ask? Not thinking of trying your luck, are you?”

  “It crossed my mind. Does he swing that way?”

  Mel frowned. Her gaze seemed to have focused on something in the distance, which was impossible as they were in such a confined space. “Not sure. He’s definitely interested in women, but he said he was going out tonight but he didn’t want company. And he did ask me if I’d ever been into the White Hart, but he wouldn’t say why.”

  Bull’s-eye! Dan tried to suppress his excitement. The White Hart was most definitely on his list of gay-friendly pubs in Bath. It didn’t sound like his kind of place from the write-up, but he’d happily check it out if there was a chance of running into Robin again.

  “Mel, you’re an angel!” He pulled her to him and lavished a kiss on each cheek. “I’d better get going. Need some time to prepare for a night out on the town.”

  They swapped mobile numbers and arranged to meet up the following day.

  “Oh, and Dan?”

  He turned back from unlocking his bike.

  “If you do run into Robin, you make sure you treat him well. You don’t want to start falling out with the boaters, do you?”

  Dan shook his head, his mouth dry. She might be tiny and not have two pennies to rub together, but this was one woman he did not want to get on the wrong side of.

  He had no doubt she’d be able to turn the whole community against him if she wanted.

  Chapter Three

  Robin stood across the street from the White Hart, trying to get a feel for the place. The Georgian building was typical for Bath. Honey-coloured limestone and tall windows with heritage-green trim gave it an elegant appearance. It rubbed shoulders with the Theatre Royal and looked like somewhere his parents would drink—not his kind of place at all. He was going to look like a proper bit of rough in a fancy pub like that. There wasn’t even a whisper of a rainbow flag about the place. Maybe Mel had been wrong. He could always head back to one of the other, more obviously gay bars—but no, he’d been told that this place was definitely queer.

  And besides, he didn’t want to go into one of those other places. He’d already walked past the Hussars and seen far too many skinny blokes with hungry eyes hanging about smoking by the front doors.

  Blokes who reminded him of Jamie.

  It was bad enough having Dan-fuckwit-Taylor stir up this old appetite again with his freckles and dimples and cute little arse. He really didn’t need to find someone who reminded him of his worst mistake ever.

  Robin took a deep breath, glanced around to make sure no one he recognised was around to see him, then pushed open the heavy oak door.

  It was quiet inside. And all the drinkers were men.

  The well-dressed patrons looked like a theatre-going crowd, but as the play had already started, they couldn’t be here for that. Robin glanced over the quietly chattering groups in the booths and the couple of older guys perched on stools at the bar. He didn’t have to worry about letting his gaze linger in here, did he? Even if it did make what he’d come here for blindingly obvious. But even after a longer inspection of the room, it was painfully clear that the barman was the most attractive man there, by a long shot.

  Smiling—not too ravenously, he hoped—he ordered a pint of bitter and settled down with his elbows on the bar, about halfway between the two other barflies.

  “Here you are, sir,” the young man purred, handing over Robin’s beer with a cute smirk. Shame about the manicured goatee and overly slicked hair, but he had beautiful brown eyes. He might not know where his next lot of cash was coming from, but bugger the cost, Robin had to offer.

  �
�And one for yourself?” he said, handing over all his worldly riches.

  “I’d love one, sweetheart, but not while I’m working. The landlord would whip my arse if he found out.” There was something knowing in the barman’s smile that made Robin feel like he’d been left out of the big joke.

  As the barman sashayed over to the cash register, the white-haired man at the end of the bar piped up. “You’re wasting your time with him, darling. What the little flirt’s not telling you is that he’s married to the landlord.”

  Married? But of course. Just because civil partnerships weren’t the kind of thing Jamie and his friends had been into, didn’t mean that there weren’t plenty of happily married gay couples out there. Looking round the room, he wondered how many of the respectable-looking couples were in civil partnerships themselves. Did this mean he was going to have to start paying attention to ring fingers? With a sudden pang, he remembered Jamie’s slender fingers. Would it have made any difference to the way things turned out if they’d been married back then? But there wasn’t any point in thinking that way. He couldn’t change anything now.

  “Don’t pout, darling. He’s really not worth it, although he likes to think he is,” the barfly said. The cute barman stuck out his tongue and flounced off to collect empty glasses from the tables.

  “Charles Wentworth is the name, my dear. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of your company here before, have we? It’s always so pleasant to see a fresh face. And where have you been hiding yourself away?”

  Robin took a closer look at Charles as he shook the proffered hand. Silver-haired and ruddy-cheeked, the man reminded him of his dad. It was disconcerting to see the lustful gleam in his eyes. He wore a tweed suit with a bright yellow cravat and probably wouldn’t have looked out of place when the building was new.

  “Robin Hamilton. I’ve just come in on my boat. On the canal.” It was one of those titbits he’d discovered would either fascinate or kill a conversation dead.

  “Oh, you’re one of those strapping boaters, are you? How delightful! And what kind of vessel are you the skipper of, my dear?”

  Robin smiled despite his misgivings. He could talk about Serendipity all day. “She’s a beauty. Fifty-five foot, narrow-beam, traditional stern. Lister SR2 engine. Handles like a dream.”

  “Marvellous, I just adore the traditional narrowboats. Do tell me more. Where was she built?”

  Robin allowed himself to be drawn into conversation. Charles was pleasant enough company, even if it wasn’t quite what he’d been looking for tonight. He spoke a bit about the work he’d done on Serendipity as he drained his pint, Charles hanging on his every word. The man didn’t even notice when Robin’s breath caught on seeing Dan walk into the pub and take up position at the far end of the bar. Shit, oh shit. What was he doing here?

  “I’m buying a house backing onto the canal in Bathampton,” Charles continued. “I thought it would be a lovely place to retire and watch the boats go by. You simply must come and visit once I’m settled in.”

  With this pronouncement, Charles grabbed hold of Robin’s hand. His grip was tight, and it was hard to resist the urge to pull away, but Robin’s manners won out.

  “Thanks, but, ummm, I’ll have to be moving on soon. Can’t stay in one spot for longer than a fortnight. British Waterways’s rules.”

  “Oh, how utterly ghastly!” Charles’s face was a pantomime of distress. Robin would have laughed it off if his hand wasn’t being squeezed quite so firmly. And, oh God, Charles had started stroking his arm while he spoke.

  “But of course!” Charles brightened like a pile of kindling catching light. “You can moor up at the end of my garden. Oh, do say you will. I get awfully lonely, and I’m sure a strong young man like you could make himself useful about the place in return. You look like you’d be good with your hands.”

  Was Charles proposing what Robin thought he was? He didn’t know whether to be grateful or offended. The very idea of being a kept man made his head spin.

  “It’s a kind offer. I’ll have to think about it.” His gaze flickered across to Dan, who was watching them with what seemed to be amusement. Robin flushed.

  “I’m not letting go of you until we have a definite arrangement, my darling Robin.”

  Robin stared into Charles’s bloodshot eyes. The whiskey fumes on his breath made him want to cough. What was it going to take to get out of this one without causing a scene? The man might be a lech but seemed genuinely kind, and it was nice to meet someone respectable who didn’t consider him a threat. Besides, he didn’t like the idea of offending someone who reminded him of his dad. He could say yes, then just quietly leave the area without ever seeing the man again. He could even get a shag out of Charles first. He’d been hoping for someone younger, someone more like Dan—although not Dan himself, obviously—but perhaps there was something to be said for the experience of age, and despite having the broken veins of a heavy drinker, Charles wasn’t bad looking. Maybe if Robin went along with it, he’d even get his hand back without having to wrench it from the guy’s grasp.

  “Come along, my dear. Let me show you what a real man can do for you.”

  Robin felt his resistance cracking under Charles’s determined onslaught. Try as he might, he couldn’t come up with a totally convincing reason as to why he shouldn’t give in.

  “Robin, sweetheart, is this man bothering you?”

  The voice startled both of them. Robin turned and found himself staring into a pair of twinkling hazel eyes. Oh God, he never would have imagined feeling this happy to see Dan.

  “I think you’d better let go of my boyfriend, now,” Dan said, placing a hand on Robin’s shoulder as Charles reluctantly loosened his grip.

  “I’m so sorry, my dears. I didn’t realise Robin was already spoken for. Please accept my heartfelt apologies.”

  Dan smiled breezily, seemingly oblivious to Robin’s confusion. “That’s all right. I know what a temptation he is, aren’t you, gorgeous?”

  Robin caught Dan’s eye, and it was like he’d been captured by the current, pulled in against his will. It wasn’t fair. Someone like Dan shouldn’t have eyes that beautiful. He was mesmerised by the flecks of green and amber and that band of ginger freckles sprinkled across the bridge of his nose.

  And then, before Robin could say anything else, Dan pulled him into a kiss. His lips pressed hot and soft against Robin’s. Perhaps it was the effect of the pint he’d just had on an empty stomach; perhaps it was the sweet, musky scent rising from Dan’s body; or perhaps it was simply the relief of being saved from Charles’s advances. Whatever it was, against his better judgment Robin sank into the kiss, parting his lips and clutching Dan to him with greedy arms.

  Chapter Four

  Dan slid his tongue into Robin’s mouth and made a delightful discovery. Not only did Robin have rings through his nipples, but there was a barbell through his tongue as well. Dan moaned as the metal ball made contact with his palate, his tongue. There was a tiny click every time it clashed against his teeth. God, he wanted that hot mouth around his dick so fucking badly. It had been a while since he’d had head from a bloke with a pierced tongue. Wonder if he had piercings anywhere more intimate?

  He stretched on his toes to deepen the kiss, wound his arms around Robin’s neck and pressed against him, body to body. Robin must be able to feel how much he wanted him, what with the way his prick was starting to harden and rub against Robin’s thigh. He rocked his hips to emphasise the point.

  Robin froze and started to pull back from the kiss.

  Dan thought fast. He couldn’t lose his advantage now. Not when he had Robin exactly where he wanted him. He sank back onto his heels, gave his sultriest smile and took one of Robin’s unresisting hands, lacing their fingers together.

  “Come on, gorgeous, we’re running late.” He tugged Robin after him and headed for the door, turning to call back to the old geezer with the Robin fixation. “Thanks for looking after him for me. He gets into al
l sorts of trouble when I’m not there to keep an eye on him.”

  The pub door swung shut behind them. Dan led Robin around the corner and found a large pillar in the shadows outside a closed shop to push him up against. Robin was still dazed, his eyes hooded and his jaw slack. Yeah, that had been a great kiss. Guys were always telling him he had a talented tongue, and seeing what it had done to Robin made him swell with pride. He dropped his hands to Robin’s hips and purred seductively.

  “Now, where were we?”

  Robin made an alarmed sound in his throat and pulled back slightly, his body trembling. Dan gave a delighted smile. Surely the big guy wasn’t out of his depth, was he? But yes, fear lurked in his eyes.

  “No need to worry, you’re in safe hands. I’ve done this plenty of times before.”

  It was as if the words broke the spell his kiss had cast. Robin’s eyes widened, and his body stiffened, but not in the place Dan wanted it to.

  “How many times?”

  “What?”

  “How many times have you done this before?” Robin snarled, pushing Dan away with a shove to his chest. “You make a habit of picking up strange men, do you?”

  Oh God, it was back to Mr. Shouty again, was it? “You’re not that strange. I even know your surname, which is more than I do with some guys.” He’d been aiming for light banter, but the disgust on Robin’s face made him realise he’d misjudged. Dan backpedalled. “I dunno, you just seemed like you needed a hand, and I knew I owed you one, and then I couldn’t help myself, you looked so delicious.”

  “Yeah, well… I was doing fine by myself, thank you very much.”

  “Didn’t look like it from where I was standing. You looked like you were struggling with how to let the guy down without being rude. That’s always a recipe for disaster. Best to be honest and get it all out in the open.” Dan grinned, but it didn’t seem to make an impression on his quarry.