Hearts of England

by Anthology

  "Don't worry about keeping me." I didn't want him to go. I looked at those dark eyes and fell just a bit deeper.

  "I should." He stood up and collected his bag. "Do you get out much?"

  I walked with him to the door. "No. I have no life. Marlborough isn't exactly the liveliest of places after closing time."

  Connor leaned against the wall. "So, if I asked if you wanted to go for a meal some time, you wouldn't be busy?"

  Bloody hell.

  "It's highly unlikely." I reached for the lock. "Chances are you'll find me either down here or in the flat upstairs."

  Connor set his bag down and pulled his phone from his pocket. "Would you mind… if… I… um…?" He was no longer a captain, a leader of men. He was all hesitation and flushed cheeks. "Could I possibly have your phone number?"

  "Of course. As long as I can have yours." I retrieved my phone and flipped it open.

  "Great. Thanks." He smiled then, all hesitancy gone. He cleared his throat. "I'm on leave the weekend after next. Think of somewhere nice to eat. I'll come and pick you up."

  "Why? You don't know me. Not that I mind. Far from it."

  He touched my arm for the briefest of moments. "Let's just say I have a good feeling about you."

  I opened the door. "All right. I'll be here."

  Connor grinned. "Good. I'll see you then."

  He walked out into the cool, bright evening. I closed the door behind him and pinched my arm, just to make sure.

  Chapter Two

  "Jamie." Hayley slipped into the kitchen. "Your date's here."

  "Could you grin any wider?" I removed my apron and tossed it into the dirty linen hamper.

  "He's hot. He's waiting for you. What more could a sister-in-law want for her favourite brother-in-law?"

  "I don't even know for sure if he's gay."

  "Haven't you been talking on the phone every night? Surely you must have some idea."

  I thought about our nightly conversations, when we talked about everything and nothing: school day memories, favourite things, hobbies, quirks, my painting, his job. I knew that he was partial to steak, medium-rare, with plenty of French mustard. He knew that the most dangerous place to be was standing between me and a plate of sashimi.

  "I suppose he could be." He'd never mentioned women, past girlfriends… nothing like that.

  "Of course he bloody is. All the hot ones are. He's driven all the way from Salisbury to take you out. You know what a pig of a drive that is." She shoved me toward the door. "Now go on, get out there and enjoy yourself."

  "Yes, Hayley."

  Connor stood in the empty tea room, hands in his pockets. "I told you I'd be here."

  I swallowed. "So you did."

  "Have you decided on a place to eat?"

  "I have. It's a bit early yet. I have a bottle of wine in the flat."

  "That'll do." He stepped aside. "Lead the way."

  He followed me out the door and around the side of the building to the steps that led to the upstairs flat, our footsteps ringing on the metal. "It's not much, but it's home, you know?"

  "Yeah, I know."

  I turned on a lamp to ward off the rainy gloom. "Have a seat. I'll get you a glass of wine."

  "It's all right. There's no rush." Connor settled himself on the couch.

  I left him and went to the bedroom to change. When I returned to the living room, Connor had kicked his shoes off and stretched his legs out beneath the coffee table.

  "Comfortable settee."

  "Yes, it is. Wine?"

  "Just a small glass, please. I'd better be careful since I have to drive back to Salisbury."

  "Since you think the settee's so comfortable, you're welcome to crash here… unless you have to get back." The invitation was out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Three months to get to know each other wasn't long. Was I willing to risk falling in love with someone who was about to go to war? Obviously I was, since I'd just blurted out that impulsive suggestion. It wasn't like we had the luxury of time. A red cartoon devil on my shoulder prodded me with its pitchfork and reminded me that life was too short.

  "Thanks. As it happens, I don't have to be back until tomorrow evening."

  "That's fine. I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere."

  "In that case, I'll have a big glass of that wine."

  I retreated to the kitchen and fished the bottle out of the fridge. "White all right?"

  "That's fine. Red just puts me to sleep. You don't want that."

  "Not just yet, no." I poured the wine and carried the glasses into the living room.

  Connor took his drink and leaned back into the cushions. "Cheers."

  "Cheers yourself." I sat in the armchair, afraid that if I sat beside him on the settee, I'd spill my wine.

  "So, where are we eating again?" Connor asked.

  "There's a nice little Italian restaurant at the far end of the High Street. I thought we'd eat there."

  "Great choice. I love Italian food."

  "So do I." I sipped my wine slowly. Last thing I wanted was to be pissed and passed out by ten.

  "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

  * * * *

  The waitress led us to a nice table in the corner and left us with the menus. Connor studied his.

  I watched him for a moment or two. His hair was flopped over his forehead. It was getting close to being too long for military service. I wanted to reach across the table and brush it back. Instead I stole a breadstick and glanced at the menu.

  "Jesus."

  "What?" The sudden heat in Connor's voice was enough to distract me from choosing between the "Pollo au Chef" and the "Aubergines Parmesan".

  "Christ, the way you're eating that breadstick…" He pushed his menu away. His cheeks were flushed with scarlet.

  I felt my own face burn. "How am I eating the breadstick?"

  "Do you have to ask?"

  The waitress chose that moment to return. We both recovered ourselves long enough to place our orders before she left, promising to come back with our drinks.

  I decided it was time to take the proverbial bull by the horns. "So my eating a breadstick turns you on?" I kept my shaking hands on my lap.

  "Yes, more than you could possibly know. If you want me to leave, I'd understand."

  "Why would I want that?" I wished that we'd ordered a takeaway from the Indian place instead.

  Connor took a deep breath, then exhaled, his cheeks puffed out. "It's been a long time since I… since I fancied someone. I'm out of practice. I never know whether I'm going to get punched if I say the wrong thing."

  "Well, you don't have to worry about me punching you." Far from it. I wanted to leap across the table and kiss away the awkward moment. "I might molest you later, if that's okay with you."

  "Oh, Jesus, yes."

  Our drinks arrived. I took a huge gulp of wine. "All right then, I think I can manage that."

  He grinned. "Excellent. You won't be wanting dessert, will you?"

  * * * *

  The August evening delivered a soft drizzle. We walked back along the quiet High Street.

  "Nice place." Connor glanced back over his shoulder.

  "Yeah. I don't get to eat out very often and I'm a lazy cook. I've walked past there a few times and drooled over the menu."

  "What do you mean by a lazy cook? Do you eat out of tins?" He walked close enough to catch my fingers in his. I sought his warmth in the grey chill of the evening and moved closer. "Not quite that bad. My pasta dinner is a bag of fresh ravioli from the supermarket and a jar of sauce."

  "You don't cook?"

  "There's only me. If I'm feeling energetic, I'll bung a pork chop under the grill."

  "Good lord, you lazy bastard. I'll cook dinner for you one of these days, will that do?"

  We paused at the foot of the steps. I looked at him, his face hidden in shadow beyond the dim, yellow glow of the street lamp. "That would do nicely."

  Connor touched my arm. "The
n it's a date."

  Something inside me trembled. "Was tonight a date?"

  "Yes. I'm not normally known for driving nearly an hour to take someone out to dinner, someone I hardly know. And I hate talking on the phone but I've spent the last two weeks doing just that. Are you all right with it being a date or did I read you completely the wrong way?"

  "No, you didn't. I was… hoping."

  "I'm not a man of impulse but there's something about you." He touched my cheek. "Do you mind?"

  "Not at all. Far from it."

  His hand fell away. "We should probably get out of this rain before we both get wet."

  I nodded, suddenly struggling for words. Raindrops glinted on the stair rail, and the wind rose, full of chill and the promise of more rain to come. It didn't matter. The flat would be warm, peaceful, and I wouldn't be alone. I fumbled a bit with the key and Connor followed me into the flat.

  I tossed the key into the dish on the kitchen counter, aware that Connor stood directly behind me. His breath was warm on the back of my neck. Then he rested his hands on my waist

  "Three months. That's all we have, Jamie. Can you live with that?"

  I turned around. "I can live with it."

  He leaned toward me, lips parted. "I'm sorry. I've wanted to do this for the last two weeks." Connor's mouth covered mine.

  Oh, sweet Jesus.

  I put my arms around his waist and kissed him back. Winding my fingers through his hair, I got lost in the scent and closeness of him. Connor pushed me against the counter and deepened our kiss. He slid his hands to my arse, and drew me close until there was nothing between us but fabric and a blazing rush of blood and heat.

  I don't know who groaned first. I know that he slipped his fingers beneath my shirt and pulled it free.

  "I'm not moving too fast am I? Only, you did say…"

  "No." I took a deep breath. "Not at all." I was beyond questioning the speed of everything. All I could think about was how to make it from the kitchen to the bedroom without losing it altogether. I couldn't remember the last time the touch of a man had reduced me to such a compliant mess of need and longing.

  I took his hand and led him down the short hall. He turned on the lamp while I closed the curtains, leaving the window open to catch the breeze. When I turned around, he'd already shed his trousers and shirt. What little clothing remained left nothing to the imagination.

  "Let me help you with those." Connor reached for my fly, eased the zip down with tantalising slowness, and then paused to palm my erection. "You should know I'm not in the habit of doing this." He brushed his lips along my jaw while he pushed my trousers down. "It's you. I just lose all common sense with you."

  "Same here." I hooked my finger in his boxers and took his dick in my hand.

  He inhaled sharply. "Bloody hell."

  "Nice?"

  "Christ, yes."

  I stepped out of my trousers and let go of him long enough to kick my boxers away. Connor did the same before backing me toward the bed. We fell together onto the duvet. Connor ran his hand along my thigh and rolled onto me, pressing me down into the tangle of bedclothes. It seemed right to open my legs and let him settle between them, all warmth in the cool grey evening.

  He kissed his way down my body and paused to linger with his tongue over a nipple and a freckle. He dragged his lips along my treasure trail, while his fingers glided over the inside of my thighs.

  "I don't even know where to begin," he whispered against my stomach.

  "Wherever you like." I knotted my fingers into his hair.

  Connor laughed softly and kissed the tip of my cock. "Here?"

  "No." I reached for him, pulling him close, wrapping my legs around him.

  His dick pressing against mine felt right. Connor moved his hips slowly while he covered my neck and face with feverish kisses. I responded between breaths, not wanting anything between us. I kissed him back, seeking his heat, while he demanded my attention with every fiery sweep of his hands.

  It wasn't going to take much. Connor slid to my side and faced me. He took both of our dicks in his hand. I covered his hand with mine and let him set the pace, thrusting in time with each emphatic stroke. We moved together, finding a mutual rhythm, marking our thrusts with heated kisses. Sticky moisture trickled between my fingers. I neither knew nor cared who it belonged to. I only knew that I was close, that I needed release.

  Connor punctuated each kiss with a moan or sigh. I sighed back.

  His hand quickened. Our breaths roughened. The only sounds were frantic gasps and sighs and the whisper of bedclothes. Connor came first, dropping his head forward. He pressed his forehead to mine and let go with a long, shaky sigh. I followed a moment or two later.

  He wound his fingers through mine and we rested in the silence.

  "Bloody hell." Connor nipped at my shoulder.

  "Bloody hell, indeed." I settled beside him.

  "It's been a long time. I'm sorry."

  "Don't be sorry. It's been a while for me too." I grabbed my discarded shirt off the floor and wiped us both down.

  "We have all night, don't we?" Connor took the shirt and tossed it aside. "I don't know about you but I think I'm up for an all-nighter."

  "I think I can manage that." Desire stirred in me again. I rested my hand on his arse and threaded my leg between his.

  "I know I can." He stroked my face. His eyes were brilliant in the lamplight. "Do you have… supplies?"

  "There's lube and condoms in the top drawer of the dressing table."

  He grinned. "Excellent."

  We settled beneath the bedclothes, seeking refuge from the damp chill of the evening. The grey twilight faded to black beyond the curtains and the rain moved away, leaving only the soft murmur of traffic along the High Street. Connor closed his eyes, his eyelashes dark crescents against his skin. I traced the hard, warm curve of his shoulder and held him while he slept. Three months of this would be worth the loneliness beyond.

  Chapter Three

  "Don't you look like the proverbial cat that's got the canary." Hayley placed the cooling biscuits onto a rack.

  "I don't know what you're talking about." I put the dirty crockery into the dishwasher.

  "You've been like this for the last two weeks. Is your friend coming for the weekend again?"

  I wiped down the countertop. "Yes, he is."

  "See, I told you I had a good feeling." She set the baking tray aside.

  I glanced up at the clock. Nearly closing time. Connor would be walking through the door at any moment. Inside, everything lifted. The fortnight between was marked with snatched telephone conversations and texts. This time there were no plans for eating out.

  "I don't want to waste a minute, sitting at a table and waiting for a meal. I want to be selfish and have you to myself for the whole weekend. From Friday night to Sunday afternoon." That was Connor's last text. "Are you all right with that?"

  My answer was plain enough. "Yes."

  We were two weeks closer to October. In that time, he'd ceased to become a distraction. He'd become someone to worry about, a reason to avoid watching the news. I pushed those thoughts aside when I heard the bell above the door ring.

  "Go on. You're done here. We'll see you Monday." Hayley smiled and handed me a tin. "Here's a treat for you both, some lemon cake."

  I kissed her cheek. "Thanks."

  Connor stood beside the door, an overnight bag at his feet. "Hello."

  I felt shy and stupid for a moment, clutching the cake tin and taking the sight of him in: the tousled, short hair and warm eyes full of heat and promise. "Hi."

  "I brought my toothbrush."

  I dug the keys from my pocket. "Then let's go find a home for it."

  We hurried up the stairs, our feet clanging on the metal. The late afternoon sun was warm but the trees along the riverbank were already touched with autumn. Ten more weeks, five more weekends.

  I set the tin on the kitchen counter and Connor let the bag drop
to the floor. The front of his jeans told me how much he missed me and the tightness behind my fly told me the same.

  "Come here." He drew me close.

  I slipped my arms around him and felt the pounding of his heart against my chest. He slid his hands down my back and let them rest on my arse.

  "I stocked up the fridge."

  Connor kissed the corner of my mouth. "Good. Not bags of pasta and jars of sauce, I hope."

  "No. I stuck to your list."

  "Good, then I can cook for you."

  "You don't have to. There are plenty of takeaways." I bit back a gasp when he shifted his hips.

  "We'll negotiate later." His mouth covered mine.

  All thoughts of food disappeared. There was a greater hunger to appease.

  * * * *

  "Do you ever get to take any time off?" Connor pulled the covers up and slid his arm beneath my shoulders.

  I curled up beside him, my hand on his chest. "I do, now and then. I haven't for ages though."

  "Will you come away with me?" He pushed the hair away from my face. "I get a week's leave before we're deployed. I want to spend that week with you."

  "What about your family? Won't you want to see them?"

  "We can visit them on the way back."

  "Won't they mind?" I kissed his throat, tasting the salt on his skin.

  "No. They won't. They know it's my last deployment. They know I like my privacy and my time." His breath was warm on my skin. "I want them to meet you."

  I lifted my head. "You do? Do they…?"

  "Know that I'm gay? Yes. They know about you too."

  "Bloody hell."

  He grinned. "Am I scaring you? Do I need to slow down?"

  "No. I'm enjoying the ride. It's fast and it's scary and I like that."

  "I'm liking it too." Connor's lips brushed my forehead. "So will you?"

  "Where?"

  "I thought we could rent a cottage somewhere."

  I huddled closer. "God, yes. Let's do it."

  He rolled onto me, pinning me to the mattress. "Let's get somewhere with a really nice bed."

  "Great, I'll just do a search for holiday cottages with really nice beds. That should do the trick."