Chapter 12

Adrian stared down at the newspaper he’d found abandoned on the bar, even though he’d long ago given up attempting to read it. The Fisherman’s Arms was quiet, so early in the evening, just a couple of old boys in the corner, one of whom appeared to be asleep.

A hard day’s physical labour on the farm hadn’t been enough to quell his restlessness, just like it hadn’t been for the past few days. He’d been snappy with Harry, more so than usual, and the younger man had wisely kept his distance and his head down. Adrian didn’t blame him, because he’d have steered clear of himself, too. The walk from the farm across the moor had done nothing to ease his nervous agitation, and soon he’d be faced with the walk back, or a ride in one of Barry’s lumpy seated cabs.

“Who’s died?”

Adrian looked up. Across the bar Ryan was restocking the crisps and nuts. Adrian said nothing, and Ryan’s grin faded as his eyes grew wider.

“If somebody has, I’m really sorry. It was just meant to be…”

“Don’t worry, everybody I know is alive and kicking. My mind was just wandering, that was all.” Which was an understatement. It’d been making a beeline straight towards Luca, with no deviation. He pushed his pint glass towards Ryan. “Give me another.” Ryan nodded, saying nothing; like Harry, he’d no doubt picked up that Adrian wasn’t in a talkative mood. Adrian’s lips twisted in a grim smile. When was he?

He reapplied himself to the newspaper, but his thoughts slipped back to Luca, and the kiss that never was. What in god’s name had got into him? Luca Graham was everything he should steer clear of. He shoved the dog eared paper aside. Every word of that was true, but it didn’t stop the gnawing want and desire, the undeniable craving for the man who switched on all his long dormant lights. He rubbed a palm hard over his brow, but he couldn’t rub away the image of Luca, of his blue eyes darkening, of his lush lips parting…

The door rattling open made him look around, his stomach clenching. Not Luca, but a middle aged couple with a collie on a leash. The dog was old and moved with the awkwardness of arthritis, reminding him of Spud… which made him think of Luca.

Christ. He’d apologise for what hadn’t happened. It’d clear his mind. They’d put a line under it, and carry on as before. They’d pretend it hadn’t nearly happened.

Yeah, right.

A few early evening drinkers drifted in, mostly the more recent residents of the village from the looks of them. The old boys had gone, and Adrian decided he should be off too, even if the prospect of an evening spent alone at the farm left him with a dull ache in his chest. Finishing off his pint, he flexed his shoulders before he slipped from the bar stool, turning to leave as the door opened.

All Adrian could do was stare. Luca’s hair flopped forward over his brow. It looked softer, not so rigidly held in place as when he was in the hotel. In skinny black jeans, a fitted lilac shirt which was open at the neck, and an expensive and soft looking suede jacket, he was understated and stylishly casual. He was everything Adrian swore he didn’t want, but as his breath stilled in his lungs and a weight pushed hard against his chest, a voice laughed in his ear that he was nothing but a deluded fool.

The door swung closed behind Luca. He walked towards the bar, breaking through Adrian’s paralysis.

“Adrian.” Luca nodded a greeting before his gaze turned towards the range of artisanal gins.

“Let me get you a drink,” Adrian rasped, pulling Luca’s cool attention back to him. He looked along the bar, but there was only Ryan on duty and he was busy. Say it now, get it out in the open… “Look, about the other night. I?—”

“Shouldn’t have tried to kiss me? But then maybe I shouldn’t have let you,” Luca said quietly, glancing in Ryan’s direction. His lips curved into a smile, warmer this time, as the coolness in his eyes thawed.

“But you did.” Adrian, too, kept his voice low, all his awkwardness, all his nerves draining away as warmth flooded through him. He moved closer to Luca. “Listen, maybe we could start from scratch and?—”

“Luca, I’m sorry I’m late. Work problems, as ever. Goodness knows why I agreed to undertake a consultancy role. Honestly, it feels like it’s turning into a full-time job.”

The loud, confident voice sliced between them. Adrian and Luca fell back as they both swung their heads around. Jonathan strode forward, his rich, heavy cologne ahead of him, all smiles as he kissed Luca on the cheek, and placed an arm around his shoulders.

“Adrian.” Jonathan nodded, the acknowledgment brief as all his attention shifted back to Luca. “Let me get you a drink, we’ve got time.”

“Time for what?” Adrian’s smile felt like a rictus, as he looked at Luca’s reddening face.

“We’re—”

“Dinner,” Jonathan cut in. “At Luigi’s. Their spaghetti aglio e olio is to die for. Have you tried it?”

Adrian didn’t miss the barely there up and down appraisal Jonathan gave him. With his work worn jeans, less than pristine white T-shirt underneath an equally worn dark red and blue plaid shirt, and scuffed work boots, no doubt Jonathan believed he knew the answer. Adrian forced himself to relax his tight jaw as he tilted his head to the side.

“Spag with garlic and olive oil, you mean? No, not had it at Luigi’s, but I ate it all the time when I lived in Naples. It’s at its best from small neighbourhood trattorrias, or when made by nona in a family home.” Adrian smiled, not giving a damn if it looked like the snarl it felt like.

A small, dense silence smothered them before Jonathan inclined his head. “Then you have the better of me, as it’s a dish I’ve yet to enjoy in situ.”

“Let me get some drinks in, shall I?” Luca slipped out from under Jonathan’s arm.

“Will you join us, Adrian?” Jonathan’s smile was small and tight, nailed into place, his polite words icy, making it clear what he expected the answer to be. Adrian doubted his own smile was much better.

“I should really get back to the farm.”

Jonathan inclined his head. “We quite understand. I expect you have a very early start in the morning.” He turned towards Luca, the dismissal clear.

“I’m used to it.” Adrian’s hackles rose as his smile broadened, stretching tight and threatening to rip his skin. “But, yes, on second thoughts, I’ll join you for a drink.”

“Super,” Jonathan gritted out. “No, Luca, I’ll get them—” Before he could say anything more, Jonathan’s phone rang. “Damn it, it’s the office again. I’m sorry, I have to take this.” Pressing it to his ear, he moved away.

Adrian jerked his head towards Jonathan’s back. “So, Luigi’s eh?” He dropped his voice, keeping it low for his and Luca’s ears alone. “Nice place. Expensive and classy. Looks like your friend’s getting serious.”

“Yes, friend. Because that’s what he is. Haven’t we already had this conversation?”

Adrian snorted. “Then he’s not got the memo.”

“You mean that peck on the cheek? That doesn’t mean anything, it was just a greeting.”

“He looked like he wanted to rip my liver out when I accepted a drink. Sorry if I’m spoiling your date.” Spoiling? He wanted to trample all over it, and kick it into the gutter.

“I’ve told you, it’s not a date,” Luca hissed. “It’s dinner with a friend.”

“Of course it is.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a nice man, and?—”

“Nice?” Adrian smirked. “I think that’s another conversation we’ve already had.”

“I don’t know what right you think you have to comment on my private life. Jonathan’s interesting and he’s good company. Although god knows why I should feel the need to explain any of this to you. Jesus.” Luca scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “You know, maybe you shouldn’t stay for a drink after all.”

“There’s something I need to attend to which won’t wait, and I need to nip home to do it.” Adrian jumped as Jonathan reappeared. “We’ll have to put Luigi’s back by half an hour, I’m afraid,” he said, ignoring Adrian. “Why don’t you come back with me? We can have a drink at mine before heading for dinner.” He threw a glance at Adrian. And then we won’t have to speak to him, it shouted, loud and clear.

“Don’t worry, Jonathan. I’ll keep Luca company until you’re back.” Adrian lounged against the bar.

“You’ve no need.”

“Jonathan, I’ll be fine here. You go and do what you need to and I’ll see you back here as soon as, okay?” Luca smiled, leaning forward to rest his hand on Jonathan’s forearm. Adrian resisted the urge to rip Luca’s hand away.

Jonathan glowered, ready to argue, before he puffed out a long breath. “All right. I won’t be long.”

“You’re a jerk, do you know that?” Luca glared at Adrian as the door closed on Jonathan. He turned to the bar, muttering about needing alcohol.

“If I’m such a jerk, why didn’t you go back with him?”

“Because his house is up a short but bloody steep hill and I didn’t fancy the walk there and back. Satisfied?”

“No, not really.”

Luca shook his head. “You really are something.”

Adrian huffed. “That’s right. I’m a jerk. You said.”

Luca didn’t reply as he pulled his debit card from his wallet.

“Put that away. I’ll get it. I also said I’d keep you company. Jerk or not.”

“No, thank you. I neither need nor want your company. Ryan,” Luca called out, and was answered with a wave.

“You might not need it, or want it, but I’m a jerk who promised I’d stay here with you and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“I don’t require babysitting. I have sat in a pub on my own before. Adrian, just go home. Please. Forget about this evening — and forget about everything before, okay?”

“What’s this, a night off from the hotel for a hot date with Mr. Owen-Jones? Alex always said he’s your type.” Ryan grinned as he came over and leant on the bar. “Although he seems to have disappeared.” He looked over at the door.

“We’re having dinner, that’s all. GT, please?—”

“Make that two of the Hendricks.”

“I can buy my own.”

Adrian shrugged. “I don’t doubt it.” He passed his card across, and Ryan hesitated for a second before accepting.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Luca muttered under his breath. “Anything just to bloody well shut you up.”

Ryan set the gins in front on them, along with two small bottles of tonic. “I’ll, erm, leave you to it,” he said, glancing at them both before moving away.

“So, Alex says Jonathan’s your type.”

“He says a lot of things.” Luca poured half the tonic into his glass. Taking a sip, he sighed. “Type hasn’t got anything to do with it, not where Jonathan’s concerned. We don’t have that kind of relationship.” He threw a hand up in the air. “There I go, justifying myself again. God knows why.”

“Then what is your type, Luca? Tell me what your type is.” Adrian’s voice dropped, his throat filled with hot, rough gravel.

Colour rose in Luca’s face, staining his pale skin. He looked away, and swallowed before his gaze flickered back. Heat fanned out from the base of Adrian’s belly, as his balls tightened and his dick fattened.

“Excuse me.” Luca shoved away from the bar, the movement quick and unexpected, taking Adrian by surprise.

Luca pushed his way through a door leading into the corridor where the toilets were located. Without thinking, not wanting to think, Adrian rushed after him, but the long corridor was empty. A door which led out to the back of the pub, however, was just closing.

Outside, Luca leant against the wall, his eyes closed.

“Luca?”

“Jonathan will be back soon. You know, the man I’m having dinner with this evening?” Luca opened his eyes. In the fading evening light, their blue was more grey, and the colour of an approaching storm.

“You’re not interested in him. I can see it in your eyes.” Adrian moved in closer, crowding him, so close the heat of Luca’s breath wafted against his throat. “Whatever you might be telling him, he wants one hell of a lot more than friendship. What’s the point of giving him false hope?”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

Adrian staggered back from the sudden, unexpected force of Luca’s shove.

“I like him. I’ve told you, he’s?—”

“Pleasant. Nice. The most soulless words in the dictionary. Is that what you want?” Adrian moved closer, his voice dropping low.

“No, I?—”

“Good.”

Adrian crushed his lips to Luca’s. A moment’s hesitation, and Luca was kissing him back.

Their lips moved together, their tongues pushed deeper. White lights exploded against the solid blackness behind Adrian’s closed eyes. Their breaths were short, sharp and ragged, as they chased each other’s wet heat.

Adrian’s hands roamed down Luca’s back, tracing the contours of his spine before slipping beneath his shirt, skin on skin. He moaned into the kiss as his hands dropped to grip and squeeze Luca’s firm, round arse. Their bodies pressed close as though desperate to merge into one. Adrian groaned, his hips rolling as his solid arousal met Luca’s. Nothing else mattered, only this moment of pure, raw, unadulterated need.

Adrian forced himself to pull back, his chest rising high and falling hard with each laboured breath. “Put him off tonight. Say you’re feeling unwell.”

Luca shoved him away. He was breathing hard, his lips spit slick and swollen, the pupils of his eyes blown, but not enough to disguise his rising panic. Frantically, he ran his hands over his hair.

“What do you think you’re playing at? I’m not going to lie. I promised I’d have dinner with him, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Then tell him the truth. You’re already telling him lies, whether you admit it to yourself or not. Every time you accept an invitation for a drink, or a trip to the theatre, or a plate of Luigi’s fucking best spaghetti alio e olio, you’re lying to him.”

“The truth? And what the hell is that, exactly?” Luca hissed.

“That it’s not him you want to be with tonight.” Adrian planted his hands on the wall, either side of Luca, boxing him in. “If you did, you wouldn’t have let me kiss you. And you wouldn’t have kissed me back.”

Luca sagged against the wall, all his energy and fury deserting him. “Adrian, why are you doing this? Why are you?—”

“Luca? Are you there?” Jonathan’s voice drifted towards them from the pub, coming closer.

“Tell him, Luca. Tell him the truth. Please.”

Luca ducked out from under Adrian’s arms.

“Forget about what just happened. Forget all of it. Because I don’t just bail on people at the last moment. That’s not what I do.”

“But what you are doing is agreeing to a date with a man you have no interest in, when you know he has other ideas.”

“I’ve told you?—”

“Luca? Is that you out there?” Jonathan’s voice was growing louder.

“Yes, sorry.”

The door burst open. Jonathan’s brows lifted in surprise, before falling into a frown. “Is everything all right out here? Luca, is anything wrong?” Jonathan wrapped an arm around Luca’s shoulder, and Adrian clenched his fists to stop himself from knocking it away.

“Everything’s fine.” Luca smiled up at Jonathan, his now calm voice at odds with the flush staining his cheeks. “It was a little warm inside, that’s all, so we came out here to chat. Let’s go. Good night, Adrian.”

“Night, Luca. Have a nice, pleasant evening.”