Smiler had been surprisingly generous with the hourly rate of pay but told Robin that he was going to work “like a fucking ox” for it. It was a shame it wasn’t enough for Robin to afford a winter mooring, but at least he could keep himself in food, beer and pot, as well as having a bit to put aside to pay back his mum and Dan, and for emergencies like when his boots finally gave out. Shaking on the deal, Robin had felt his shoulders straighten. The pride of having steady work again had probably added another inch to his height. If he kept at it, he’d have to duck to get into his boat.
Robin was filling his twelfth bag when he heard a familiar voice.
“Hey, sweetie! Can I buy a couple of bags when you’ve got a moment?”
Mel was grinning up at him, and Robin returned her smile. She’d proved to be a brilliant friend. He’d finally summoned up the courage to tell her about the dyslexia, and she’d taken it upon herself to start giving him reading support in return for guitar lessons. With her patient presence and encouragement, he’d discovered that he wasn’t quite as illiterate as he’d thought, and reading was getting easier day by day as his confidence grew.
“You’re getting to be a right old socialite these days, aren’t you? Just found a fella looking for you on the towpath. I expect he’ll be along in a minute.”
“Oh yeah?” Robin wasn’t particularly curious. “Need help getting this to your boat?” he offered, once Mel had handed over the cash for the sacks of firewood and bundle of kindling.
“Robin, you’re such a sweetheart! I could do with a hand. I need to get back quickly and check on the veg. I’m making us nut roast tonight.”
“Us?” Robin furrowed his brow. Nut roast with Mel was the last thing on his mind for tonight.
“Yep. You and Dan are coming over to dinner. I’ve asked Sparky as well. Have you met him yet? Just came in last week on the little tug, Albion. He’s a quiet one. Kind of cute. I thought if anyone could bring him out of his shell, it was Dan.”
“Umm… Sparky? Isn’t that a dog’s name?” God knew why he was focusing on that. He should be protesting about having his evening hijacked, but sometimes it was just easier to go along with whatever Mel had planned.
“He’s a welder, silly. I think he might be batting for Dan’s team, but if not, I want to get in there quick before someone else does. I figured this way I should find out before wasting too much time trying to get into his pants.” She gave a cheeky smile and winked at him. “Not that it was all a waste of time, sweetie.”
Someone save him from women and their manipulative ways!
“Dan and I have plans for tonight.” Plans that involved not wearing any clothes and doing some of the things they’d been describing to each other on the phone.
Mel slapped his arse playfully. “I’m sure you have, but you can wait to shag each other senseless until after you’ve had dinner, can’t you? Besides, it’s all organised. You’re coming over at seven. Dan’s already agreed.”
“He has?”
“Yep. Called him earlier. So you can’t wriggle out of it.”
Robin sighed as Mel blew him a kiss and bounded off in the direction of her boat. Irritating though it was, he couldn’t help feeling flattered that Mel had phoned Dan to ask them out as a proper couple. Chucking the sacks of wood into a wheelbarrow, he realised he was actually looking forward to the evening, even if meals with strangers were not his usual sort of thing.
He was whistling by the time he’d crossed the swing bridge.
“I say, what a sight for sore eyes! Robin, isn’t it?”
Robin whirled round in surprise. A silver-haired man in tweeds and a rather jaunty red cravat stood before him. It was the old geezer from the White Hart. The one who hadn’t wanted to let go of his arm until Dan came in with his tall story about them being a couple. Not such a tall story anymore, mind you. Robin’s cheeks grew hot. He couldn’t for the life of him remember the man’s name.
“Charles Wentworth,” the man said, extending a hand. “That lovely young Melody told me I could find you here.”
“Of course, Charles. Good to see you.” Robin was officially out of polite conversation. God knew why his school tutors had tried to convince him that having dyslexia led to you developing better verbal skills. It didn’t seem to have worked for Robin. Fortunately, Charles seemed perfectly content to ogle him. Eventually he remembered a snippet of their conversation. “Did you buy your house in the end?”
“Yes, darling, I did. So kind of you to remember. Actually, to tell you the truth, that’s one of the main reasons I was trying to track you down.” Charles leant forward, putting a hand on Robin’s arm. “There’s so much that needs doing to the old heap, and I can’t find a reliable carpenter for love nor money. Oh please, do say you can help! I’ll pay cash in hand, if you like.”
Robin did like, but he wasn’t so sure about working for an old lech who didn’t seem to be able to stop his gaze from roaming all over his potential carpenter’s body. If Charles was this bad during the negotiations, Robin dreaded to think what would happen if he was alone with him in his house. He didn’t want to have to resort to using his chisels to defend his honour.
“I’m sorry. I have to keep moving on all the time. BW regulations. I’m not going to be about here for much longer.”
“Gosh, what a terrible bore for you. Oh, but of course, you said before.” A sly glint transformed Charles’s eyes. “You know, there’s always that mooring spot at the end of my garden. Very secluded. Just perfect for when your boyfriend comes to visit.”
Robin tried to keep his face blank—what Dan called his “inscrutable” look. A secluded garden mooring and cash in hand work sounded perfect, but at what cost?
“I’m not sure. I’d need to see the place and what needs doing first.”
“Of course, darling. I wouldn’t expect anything less. I’m sure you need to measure up and do all your estimates and so on. Here, just take my card and give me a call when you have the time.”
The card he handed over was simple and elegant, and Robin could tell from the quality of the stock must have cost a fair whack. The typeface was easy to read, the address for one of the huge houses that backed onto the canal in Bathampton.
“Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
“You make sure you do that. Au revoir, my dear.” Charles took his hand and planted a slobbering kiss on it. Robin had to fight not to wipe it off again. Not until Charles was facing the opposite direction, anyway.
He contemplated throwing the card into the canal. Becoming Charles’s handyman wasn’t an altogether tempting prospect—not if he had to put up with more sloppy kisses and being mentally undressed—but then again, if it made things easier to be around for Dan… Maybe he could give up Smiler’s job and earn enough to travel up to London at the weekends, all the better to keep an eye on things there.
He slipped the card into his pocket. He’d have to give it some thought.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dan could never stay in his seat when the train neared Bath. It was like his stomach had a bunch of small creatures turning somersaults inside it, preventing him from settling. He moved down through the carriage and waited with his bike in the vestibule at the end. Instead of watching the city pass by in a graceful sweep of honey-coloured limestone, he was glued to the other window. The one that looked up at the canal. From this angle in the falling dusk there was little to see, but every now and then he spotted a boat roof from between the trees, and he grinned.
And then they were drawing into the station, and Dan hung his arm out of the window so that he was ready to open the door the moment the locks were released. He scanned the platform, experiencing a giddy rush when he saw that familiar, much-dreamed-about figure slouching against the station wall.
“Robin!” he shouted, and when their eyes made contact, he felt it all the way down to his toes.
They were separated by the crowds pouring off the train towards the exit, and Dan had to push his way through
the mass of bodies. It wasn’t easy with a bicycle—he ended up wheeling it over a few toes and earned some dirty looks. But then there was Robin, still leaning back, the casual illusion of his pose betrayed only by the heat of his gaze. Yeah, that was the kind of dirty look he’d been craving.
Dan tried to keep his walk casual, but it was bloody impossible when his body screamed out to run. And in the end, he ran the last couple of paces. The ones that took him right into Robin’s personal space and fetched him up against that long, hard body. He let his bike fall against the wall. Robin’s arms came round to meet him, and he pitched forward into a crushing embrace.
Robin spun them round and Dan found himself up against the wall, his breath stolen in a blistering kiss. He could feel himself trembling with need, his body pressed against Robin’s, and in the end he had to tear his lips away.
Robin growled and ground his hips against Dan’s, letting him feel the strength of his arousal.
“Hey. It’s good to see you too, but don’t you think we should take this somewhere more private?” Dan asked, looking up and down the platform. The guard was very conspicuously watching them. Dan gave him a big grin, but the bloke refused to look embarrassed, scowling at them instead.
“Think I might have problems walking,” Robin said, panting hard. “Where do you want to go?”
“Back to yours?”
“Uh-uh. You’ve promised Mel we’ll be round for dinner in about twenty minutes, and it’ll take us about that long to get there. We’d have to cycle past her boat to get to mine, and she’d spot us, believe me.”
“Bugger! I forgot about that. I didn’t think I’d be this fucking desperate for a shag the moment I saw you.”
Robin raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that’s meant to be a compliment?”
“Oh yeah. Big compliment. Can’t you tell how big it is?” Dan gave a lewd smile and pulled Robin’s hand around to his crotch. Screw the platform guard.
Hearing Robin’s chuckle, Dan realised just how much he’d missed it over the last couple of weeks. Sure, he’d heard it over the phone, but it wasn’t the same thing as being able to feel Robin’s body shaking and watch the laughter transform his face. It was why he’d waited to tell Robin about their upcoming holiday in person, but he’d do all that later. There was no telling how Robin would react to the news initially, and he didn’t want to risk spoiling the reunion.
Dan saw the platform guard approaching and tried to school himself into a respectable pose. It wasn’t easy, what with Robin’s hands clutching his rear.
“All right, lads, that’s enough. Move it along, please.”
“Sorry,” Robin said. He didn’t look very sorry, and he gave Dan’s arse a good squeeze before finally letting go. “We’ll ‘move it along’ somewhere else, shall we?” He winked, looking more roguish than Dan had ever seen him before. “I know where we can go.”
They cycled along the towpath until they reached a white metal gate. Dan remembered seeing a park beyond it but had never ventured inside. Now Robin led the way through the gate and into the gloaming. He followed, his headlight picking out the reflective panels on Robin’s bike. They hadn’t gone far before Robin told him to stop and propped his bike up against the back of a bench.
Dan let himself be pulled by the hand into the dark under a low-spreading tree. Branches snagged on his hair as Robin spun him around and slammed him into the trunk. The air rushed out of him, and he gasped as he felt a sharp nip on his neck.
“Now, where were we?” Robin asked.
It didn’t seem like Robin needed an answer, though, as he picked up where they’d left off. His tongue invaded Dan’s mouth as if claiming it. The heat of his desire was plain in every movement, every groan, every thrust. Dan felt it deep in his marrow, the yearning that had been building for the past fortnight cresting high inside him.
Robin’s erection ground against his own, the layers of fabric accentuating the friction. It was delicious. Just this. Nothing more than the overwhelming presence of Robin pressed up against his body, the scent of him sharp in Dan’s nostrils, the taste of him hot on his tongue. Dan’s skin was hypersensitive, registering every scrape of stubble on his chin, every breath ghosting over his cheeks.
“Fuck!” Dan gasped as Robin broke the kiss. “You’re gonna make me come in my pants if you’re not careful.”
“That’s the idea.” Robin’s voice rasped, thrilling through Dan’s body.
It was like Robin gave him permission to take what he needed. After all these years of trying to be a fantastic lover, of holding back and making it last. Of trying to impress yet another random stranger with his technique. With Robin he didn’t need to do anything other than feel and enjoy it. Dan’s lust spiked high, and his balls began to ache. He rutted hard against Robin, trying to relieve his need even as the teeth on his neck made it surge higher.
Dan felt Robin’s hands clutching at his buttocks and lifting him up, increasing the exquisite friction. Between those bruising, grasping fingers and that sucking, biting mouth, he was undone. His breath came in ragged gasps as his desire peaked in a flood of sensation. He bucked his hips, almost knocking Robin over with the force of his orgasm, then was slammed back against the tree as he rode out the waves.
“Robin!” he called, his voice hoarse.
Robin grunted in response, and then he too was jerking his hips hard, thrusting against Dan’s body and biting down on his neck. As their shudders subsided, Dan started to laugh, the sound breathless and startling.
“Been a good few years since I’ve done that,” Dan said.
“Yeah, me too. How long?”
“Dunno. Since I was a teenager, I reckon. Tell you what, two weeks is probably the longest I’ve gone without a shag since then as well.” But Dan knew that wasn’t the only reason he’d come so fast from just a kiss and a frot. It was being with Robin again. The sheer intensity of the way Robin made him feel. He wanted to put a word to it, but the only one that came to mind was too frightening. “That was…intense.”
“Worth waiting for?”
“Oh yeah.” Dan felt his chin being lifted and a lazy kiss pressed to his lips. He shifted his hips, uncomfortably aware that the mess in his pants was going to get chilly before long. “We’re going to have to go back to yours to get changed now.”
“No need. I’ve got a couple of hankies.”
“That’s not going to deal with two weeks’ worth of spunk. And my undies will still be wet. And we’ll stink of sex.”
“Like anyone’s going to notice over the incense and burnt nut roast,” Robin said, sliding a hand down the back of Dan’s jeans and plucking at the undies in question. “If you’re that bothered, stop being such a wuss and take them off.”
“Oi, watch it! You’re giving me a wedgie.”
With hindsight, it probably did sound like a challenge, but by then it was too late and they’d collapsed on the ground in a sniggering tussle.
“You’re late. I hope you have a good excuse.” Mel leaned out of the door to brandish a kitchen knife at Robin as he climbed onto Galadriel’s deck.
“The best,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “That’s not burning I can smell, is it?”
“Bollocks!” She turned back to the stove and gave something ominous-looking a stir.
Robin started to wish they’d eaten something before coming. Mel’s cooking was a pot-luck affair at best, and this didn’t look like one of her more palatable efforts. Maybe she’d been distracted by the bloke sitting in the saloon.
Robin sidestepped around Mel and figured he would have to introduce himself. Sparky looked like he’d walked straight out of some 1980s punk band, right down to the safety pins through his ear, studded leather wristbands and the bright pink Mohican. He was smiling—perhaps just a little too brightly—and seemed to find it hard to make eye contact. God, he’d better not be freaked out by Dan. There wasn’t any subtle way of asking Dan to tone it down now they were inside the tiny boat.
&nbs
p; “Hi, I’m Robin.” He held out his hand.
“Sparky,” the punk replied, taking Robin’s hand and shaking it briefly. But his voice sounded warm enough, so maybe it was just nerves.
“This is Dan. My…uh…boyfriend.” When was he going to get used to saying that? Hopefully never. He loved the butterflies it gave him every time he used the word. He wasn’t quite so keen on the flush of heat, though, and began stripping off layers and trying to work out where they were all going to sit. He had to move a bag of knitting and a heap of water-damaged anatomy textbooks to make space for him and Dan on the beanbag. It would be intimate, but as the only other space was the sofa, he figured he’d rather squish up with his boyfriend than with Sparky. Dan was considerably less likely to accidentally spike him with dangerous bits of jewelry, for a start.
Sparky didn’t speak much during the meal, but with Dan and Mel rabbiting on, it wasn’t like anyone else had a chance to get a word in. Robin concentrated on balancing his plate on his lap when Dan seemed to be doing his best to climb on there as well, and trying not to accidentally knock knees with Sparky.
“So, are you a writer or something?” Sparky asked Dan when there was a gap in the conversation.
“Yep. Travel writer, and it’s really not as glamorous as it sounds. Robin will vouch for that, won’t you?”
Would he? Dan had mentioned roach-infested hotels and bouts of food poisoning, but it wasn’t like Robin had been along to see it firsthand. All he really knew was that it was one of those jobs that threatened to take Dan away from him at unpredictable intervals. He gave a noncommittal grunt in reply.
“Actually, I need to fess up, hon.” Dan turned to him, dislodging the plate at long last. Robin made only a halfhearted attempt to catch it. No one was going to expect him to eat the last bits now they’d been on Mel’s floor. “Ooops! Sorry ’bout that. Anyway, I’ve been asked to go and cover a gay resort holiday in January. It’s a bit last minute, I know, but I’ve written for Attitude before, and the guy who was meant to be going has gone and broken his leg skiing. D’you want to come to Gran Canaria with me? They usually provide an extra-cheap ticket for partners.”
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