Chapter 6

“Morning Boss.”

Adrian looked up from feeding the chickens in their enclosed patch of field, and grunted in Harry’s direction.

He’d had another fitful night’s sleep, thanks to the whisky he’d knocked back. He could handle the hangover, it was the twisted, confused dreams he’d been having for the past few nights, unsettling him in a way he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, define. With more force than he’d meant, he threw down another handful of feed, sending the chickens running, their squawks loud and indignant.

Slumping against the fence, he closed his eyes. Vivid dreams, which woke him in a sweat and with his heart racing, all of which featured a man with dark blond hair, his features indistinct, all except for his full lipped smile which he turned on him before dropping to his knees, and?—

“For Christ’s sake.”

Frustration, that’s all it was, his subconscious telling him he needed to get up close and personal with more than his hand. A night away, somewhere he wasn’t known, where he could lose himself, and work off the scorching need that was consuming him. He wrinkled his nose. It might be what his body demanded, but the idea was ice in his stomach. Running a hand down his face, he sucked in a long, hard breath. A busy day lay ahead, just like every day, that was what he needed to think about rather than wasting his time attempting to psychoanalyse himself.

But why pretend?

His ordered, fixed, rigid world felt like it was spinning too fast, leaving him dizzy and breathless. And he knew why. Just as he knew why he’d awoken with the king of all hard ons which had detonated from the lightest brush of his hand making him cry out as he’d spilled over his stomach. His breath hitched and his heart jumped in his chest as a shiver raced down his spine. Wiping the back of his hand across his brow, his skin was hotter and clammier than it had any right to be in the cool morning air.

Scooping up another handful of feed, his hand stilled as he let it fall through his fingers. Staring out over his land, his gaze landed on the track which snaked towards the road which led to Love’s Harbour and, just beyond, The New House Spa Hotel. And Luca Graham.

The hotelier had come back to him, accepting his price. The conversation had been short and businesslike, quickly concluded. Luca had ended the call first, leaving him staring at the receiver still clutched in his hand, the sound of the dialling tone loud in the quiet of the farmhouse. Contracts had been drawn up, marking the beginning of their business relationship. He’d already made some deliveries, each time meeting not Luca but Rhonda. Not, of course, that he’d been looking out for him. Just as he hadn’t been looking out for him when he’d gone to The Fisherman’s Arms for a pint, after so long keeping away, prompting surprised yet welcoming smiles from both Eva and Ryan. Each time he’d parked, he’d not been boxed in.

“Looks like you can do with this.”

Adrian jumped and swung around as Harry appeared holding two mugs. Adrian mumbled his thanks as he took one.

“So you took my advice, then.” Harry slurped his tea and hummed his delight.

“What do you mean?”

“Getting out more. You went to pie night, I saw you there but you didn’t see me. And you’re becoming a regular at the pub.”

“I’ve been in the odd time or two. That doesn’t make me a regular.”

“Eva’s introducing another new variety — chicken and chorizo. She put a suggestion box on the bar. I’ve already put my order in.” Harry beamed, the thought of food as always making his already ever bright mood almost blinding. “See you there on Friday?”

“No. I don’t think I’ll be going again.”

“And why’s that?”

Because it’s not a good idea to chance running into Luca Graham again.Even if it was the reason he’d become an irregular regular at the pub. “Not my kind of thing. And it was too busy.”

“How home cooked pie and a pint of Badger’s isn’t anybody’s thing is beyond me. People have been commenting, saying it’s good to see you out and about.”

“Gossiping, you mean?”

Small communities and their never quenching thirst for something and someone to talk about. He’d already supplied enough fodder for them to feed on, and he wasn’t going to be dishing up more. Perhaps visits to the pub needed to get back to being strictly about deliveries.

“No, the villagers are glad to see you out and about. Other than on market day. You’re a grumpy sod, but for some inexplicable reason, people seem to like you,” Harry said cooly.

Adrian shifted under Harry’s steady gaze. How could a gangly twenty-three year old with carrot coloured hair and freckles to match make him feel like a bloody awkward teenager?

“You know what I heard the village described as, by one of the newcomers? A destination. S’pose it’s because of the posh restaurants that have sprung up. And the wine bar and deli. Can’t beat The Fisherman’s, though. Even that Luca guy who runs The New House goes to pie night. He was there same time as you. Did you see him? He was with Alex Love and Ryan. And his boyfriend. Jonathan Something.”

“Think I saw them,” Adrian said, his voice tight.

Jonathan Something, with his swept back dark hair, a silver fox newcomer filled with charm and easy smiles. The self assured, smug newcomer… He didn’t know the guy, didn’t want to know him, would make it his business to never know him, but Jonathan Something was a type he knew too damn well, and to his cost. Christ, get a grip… Adrian’s fingers cramped from the force with which he’d unconsciously bunched his fists. He eased them loose, and flexed his tight jaw.

Luca, and Luca’s boyfriend. Jonathan Something. Just another reason to not go back.

Harry leant forward, as though to share a confidence. “Jonathan Thingy’s tongue was hanging out, and he looked mighty pissed off when Luca left. Don’t blame him though, because that Luca is bloody gorgeous.” A dopey grin broke out on Harry’s face, and Adrian glowered.

“He’s out of your league, so don’t waste your time,” Adrian bit out as he thrust his empty mug at Harry. “Besides, didn’t you say he’s got a boyfriend? Take it from me, Harry, that’s not somewhere you go.”

“Erm no, you’re right,” Harry said, his flushing face clashing horribly with his carrot hair. “No harm in day dreaming, though. Which is all it’ll be.” His mouth lifted in a wonky smile. “I’m too busy trying to persuade Kirsty from the Stop ’n’ Shop to go out with me.”

Adrian had no idea who Kirsty was.

“I reckon Jonathan Whats-It had better look out, though, because there are more than a few interested in Luca from what I hear. Men and women. Which probably pisses off Jonathan What’s-His-Face, because he knows he has to watch his back. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

Harry opened his mouth to say something but instead shrugged, thinking better of it. “Best get on.”

As Harry set off towards the polytunnels, Adrian stared after him. His headache had dissipated but had been replaced by something else, something unsettling and uncomfortable, like an itch that moved around but couldn’t be held down long enough to scratch. He rubbed hard at the back of his neck. What business was it of his if Luca Graham was seeing somebody, or was being chased by half the village? None. That’s what it was. Absolutely, unequivocally none.

More than a few interested in him…Why should that be a surprise? Luca Graham was attractive. More than attractive. He might have been living like a monk but the guy’s appeal was impossible to ignore. But Luca could appeal to somebody else. Adrian flexed his shoulders and moved his head from side to side to ease out the tight, hard knots. The morning sun was heating up. It would be another warm day, and he had a mountain of work waiting for him.

Luca Graham was purely business and, for his own good, Adrian needed to remember that.