Chapter 26

Adrian leant against the door jamb, sipping his coffee as he surveyed the living room. How had a fresh coat of paint, in a colour he would have baulked at not so long ago, made such a difference? Harvest Gold, the colour on the tin said. Banana Yellow was more like it. He’d shuddered when the first brush stroke had hit the wall, and he’d fled, leaving the painter and decorator from the village to desecrate his muted colour scheme.

Bland, not muted. Adrian smiled. Luca’s words, not his. But Luca had been right. Banana Yellow had indeed turned out to be a soft, warm gold that perfectly reflected the late afternoon and early evening light. But it wasn’t only the paint job that made the room warmer, more comfortable, more welcoming.

A velvet throw of deep forest green softened the hard lines of the old Chesterfield sofa, along with the matching cushions. Christ, scatter cushions. Adrian snorted. He was a farmer, not an interior designer, but the minor changes and additions, which had been Luca’s casual suggestions, had been a long overdue change, bringing light and colour into his world which for too long had been dominated by monotones. He took another sip of coffee, swallowing slowly.

Sam had wanted to renovate the farmhouse, forever harping on about how dark and gloomy the place was, how dull and dreary. But it hadn’t been the décor Sam had been complaining about. Adrian threw back the rest of his coffee in a couple of gulps. He didn’t want to think about Sam. The man had been obliterated from his life as effectively as the muted walls of his living room.

“Boss, you’ve got a visitor. Little blue car, making its way up the drive. Looks like it’s Luca Graham, from The New House,” Harry said, coming up behind him. “What’s that about, then? Are there changes to the produce we’re supplying?”

Aahhh…

Adrian turned to Harry, whose wide eyed, faux innocent stare did nothing to disguise the barely held back grin playing on his lips. You shit… Adrian cleared his throat.

“No change in the business agreement. This is, erm, personal.” His grip on the empty coffee mug tightened. And his face wasn’t heating. No, not at all.

Harry’s grin broke free. “I’ve seen him leave here early in the morning. So has Elena. And a friend of mine works weekend shifts at the De Lacy Arms, that gastro pub in Poulton Lacy. She said you and Luca were there for dinner recently. And Kirsty from the Stop ’n’ Shop saw you in Harbour Coffee, and?—”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” Adrian grumbled. He and Luca had agreed they were going to keep their budding relationship on the low down. They weren’t a secret, but nor were they anybody’s business but their own, but it looked like that particular ship had already sailed.

“He’s nice.” Harry’s grin turned into a soft smile. “Don’t know why you’re both creeping around, because you know you can’t keep anything secret around here. And…” Harry hesitated. Adrian frowned. The younger man looked unsure, and Adrian wanted to know why.

“And?”

“Reckon he’s been good for you.” A flush crawled up Harry’s neck and into his face. “You’re not so grumpy and short tempered. Elena’s noticed it too. You smile and laugh more, which makes you easier to be around. You’re brighter, like this room.” Harry nodded to the sunny living room they both stood on the threshold of. “I reckon that can only be a good thing. You’re probably going to sack me, aren’t you, now I’ve said all that?”

Adrian’s lips lifted in a rueful smile. “I should sack you for all kinds of things. But not for what you’ve just said. Because you’re right. And I apologise, for being a bad tempered fucker. Everybody knows? So much for discretion.”

Harry laughed. “Not everybody. Only those with a heartbeat. And as for avoiding the gossips, it’s a hiding to nothing. You know that, just like you know you and Luca will be old news in a few days. Go with the flow, because there’s no use fighting it. People will soon move on, because they’re already talking about Beryl from Baps ’n’ Buns and the verger?—”

“Hello? Adrian, where…”

Both Adrian and Harry turned to where Luca stood in the hallway.

“The door was open, so…” Luca’s gaze flittered between Adrian and Harry.

“It’s okay.” Adrian came forward, and looped his arm around Luca’s shoulders. “I should have known better than to believe being discreet would work in a place like Love’s Harbour. Apparently we’re an item of interest in the village.”

“Only for the next half hour,” Harry said with a grin. “I’ll get on with boxing up the deliveries.”

“So,” Luca said, when Harry ducked out. “What do they say about best laid plans?”

Adrian tugged Luca closer and laid a kiss on the top of his head. “I know. It was foolish to even try and keep a lid on it.”

“I suppose…” Luca smiled, the light shining in his eyes pure mischief. “So does this mean I can now call you my boyfriend?”

Adrian threw back his head and laughed. God, but didn’t that feel good. “If you don’t, then I’ll want to know why.” He pulled Luca close, their bodies pressed tight together, his breath hitching as Luca’s arousal matched his own. His lips found Luca’s. “We’ve got all afternoon?—”

“And Harry’s here, and no doubt Elena will be arriving soon.” Luca raised his brows.

Adrian grimaced. “Yeah, point taken.” He looked Luca up and down. Jeans, a T-shirt, and boots that were good for more than posing in a city bar. “Come on.” He took Luca’s hand. “I’ll have a quick word with Harry, then I want to show you something.”

* * *

The path grew narrower as they made their way through the wood, rising before dropping down again. The sun shone down, the light dappled through the canopy of red and gold leaves, some of which floated down to the ground in the soft breeze. Birds chirruped, and small creatures rustled around in the undergrowth. Each time Luca had asked where they were going, he’d answered with nothing more than a smile.

“Here.” Adrian stopped so suddenly, Luca crashed into him.

“Here — what?” Luca narrowed his eyes as he surveyed their surroundings, with no clue as to what to look for.

“I wanted to show you why the farm’s called Ladywell. Other than me, and some of the very oldest residents of the village, I don’t think anybody knows about this anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Adrian started to pull aside the branches and stems of a large bush.

“What’s that?” Luca peered over Adrian’s shoulder as a small, stone dome with a moss covered wooden door was revealed.

“The Lady’s Well, which the farm took its name from centuries ago.”

Luca’s lips parted in surprise, and he moved forward to get a better look. “Are we still on your land?”

Beneath Luca’s gaze, a wave of pride washed over Adrian. Pride in the land, in the farm, and the part his family had played, generation after generation. Pride, yet tinged with sadness for refusing to acknowledge the roots he’d once only wanted to run from.

“No. The farm used to be a lot bigger, and included this part of the wood. Piece by piece, over time, parcels of land were sold off, including where we are now.”

“You’ve deep roots here. I envy that, because what I know about even my grandparents can be written on the back of a stamp.”

“It took me long enough to appreciate and value it. Look.” Adrian tugged at the door, which opened up with a moan of protest, revealing the top of a stone well.

Luca peered down into the blackness, and sniffed. “I thought it’d smell bad, but it doesn’t. Just wet earth and leaves.” He cocked his head to the side. “Is that the flow of water I can hear?”

“Yes. This well taps into one of the many underground water courses. Wouldn’t advise drinking it, though, but this place was never about drawing water to drink or wash with. It was devotional.”

“Like a shrine?”

“Exactly. It was dedicated to a local saint, although who she was has long been forgotten. But this was a holy place for centuries before the area was Christianised. The well goes back into pre-history, and would have been where a water or woodland spirit dwelt. This place, it…” The words dried on his tongue.

“Adrian? Are you okay?” Luca stepped back from the well and rested a hand on Adrian’s chest, concern in his voice and in his eyes, as he moved his palm in slow, light circles. “It means something to you. Something important, so much more than a local, forgotten curiosity, or a reminder of how long your family’s been rooted in the land.”

“Yeah.” Adrian coughed, trying to clear the roughness at the back of his throat. “My gran, you remember I told you how close I was to her, she’d bring me here when I was a kid. She had so many stories about the well, and the woods, too. Older than time, reaching back to before the ancestors, is what she used to say. The well, she said, was a place of magic. Mum, Dad, Richard, they always laughed, said it was all old wives’ tales. They never came here, but I did, because my gran was right in a way. Maybe it wasn’t magic, but it cast its spell on me.”

“How do you mean?”

Adrian leant into Luca’s touch. The warmth of Luca’s hand through the fabric of his shirt, the steady, rhythmic circling, eased a heart rate that had climbed too high, too fast.

“I feel a bit stupid, talking about magic.” He laughed, but the sound was wooden and forced. “I’m making too much of it. I just wanted to show you it, that’s all. Come on, let’s?—”

“No.” Luca caught his hand, pulling him to a stop in mid turn. “What’s stupid? Everybody needs their own private magic, whether it’s a place, or a book, or a piece of music, or anything else. Something that brings both joy and comfort, even if nobody else can understand why. I’d like to know why this place affects you so much. Here.” Luca pressed his hand over Adrian’s heart. Adrian covered it with his own, gazing down at their hands as their fingers intertwined. He looked up and met Luca’s steady, compassionate eyes.

“Coming here became my refuge,” he said slowly, feeling his way through the words that would never truly even begin to explain why the well meant so much to him. “Whenever I was in trouble as a kid, at home or at school — which happened a lot — I’d come here to get away from it all. When I got older, when the arguments and antagonism between me and my parents got worse, after my brother betrayed and destroyed all my trust and belief in him, this was where I’d run to. To think, to rage, sometimes even to scream.

“I came here when I returned for the funerals, to think about where I was going with my life, never believing for a moment I’d be back again so soon. When Richard was killed, I even slept out here overnight. It sounds crazy, and it was in some ways, but when I woke up freezing cold and damp from dew, my head was clearer than it had been in years. I had a clear plan of where I was going and the life I was determined to lead.”

Luca cupped his hands to Adrian’s face, his thumbs stroking over the dark scruff that he never seemed able, quite, to completely shave away. Closing his eyes, Adrian pushed into the warmth and comfort of Luca’s touch.

“You must think I’d lost my mind,” he murmured.

“I think you were a man who had some big decisions to make. So why wouldn’t you choose to make them in a place that meant so much to you?”

“Some of the most important decisions I’ve ever had to make have been made here. Accepting who I was. Leaving home. Acknowledging and committing to my birthright, to the farm. Admitting to myself I was never going to have a life with Sam.” He drew in a deep breath, taking a moment because Luca needed to know. “I never brought Sam here,” he said quietly. “I never even told him about it. But—but I couldn’t not bring you. Because you’re important to me, Luca. You’re—you’re more important than anybody or anything has ever been.”

Lips met lips in the sweetest, slowest, most heartfelt kiss. Above them crows cawed as they wheeled in the deep blue sky. A warm breeze rustled through the canopy, showering them in a fall of golden leaves as each held tight to the other, their hearts beating as one in a perfect, steady rhythm, next to the well that was older than time.