Nope, that definitely wasn’t a man in the mood for seduction. He should get a grip—just make the most of being here and getting to know Robin better.
“Would you like a drink?” Dan asked, pleased to see the lazy smile curve Robin’s lips as he opened his eyes. “How about a cuppa? I’m sure I can find my way around your kitchen.”
“I’d love one, but I should be doing all that, really.” Robin looked like a man who had no intention of getting up any time soon.
Dan grinned. “No worries, you just look after Morris and I’ll sort us both out with a nice cup of tea.” Oh God, he was turning into his mum. A woman convinced that the world’s problems could all be solved if only people would take the time to sit down together and drink a cup of PG Tips. Possibly with a digestive biscuit on the side. At the thought of food, his stomach rumbled. It felt like a long time since he’d breakfasted, having spent his morning photographing Mel in her boat and then being shown into several other boater’s homes. They were a friendly bunch, once Mel introduced them, although he had the suspicion she’d started him off with the easy ones.
“Tea bags are in the tin on the top shelf, and the fridge is next to the sink.”
“Thanks. Umm, any biscuits by any chance? I’m famished.”
“I see, you’re expecting feeding now, are you?”
Dan’s eyes flicked up to Robin’s, and he was relieved to see humour in their depths. “I think I’ve earned at least a biscuit, don’t you think? Possibly more.” Although he wasn’t going to detail what just yet.
Robin chuckled. “I think you’ll have to settle for the biscuit, as anything else is going to need cooking. Look on the shelves under the glasses. There should be a new pack of Hob Nobs.”
With everything prepared, there was nothing to do but wait for the kettle to boil. Dan peered out of the porthole above the hob, wondering what it must be like to live life with such tiny windows. It was almost like seeing the world through a fish-eye lens.
Shit—his camera! There was two grands’ worth of equipment in his camera bag, and he’d just left it out there on the back of his bike. His unlocked, cost-a-small-fortune, custom-built bike. A terrible certainty sank through him like a stone. It wasn’t going to be there, was it? One of these gypsies would have made off with it, and he’d have lost his whole morning’s work as well.
“Fuck!” He crashed his way through the doors and off the boat.
Chapter Seven
What on earth was all that about? Robin stared at the half-open doors. The boat rocked gently in Dan’s wake, and his eyelids soon started to feel heavy. The comforting warmth of Morris on his lap lulled him into a dreamy state—it was only when the kettle started whistling that he pulled his strands of attention together enough to realise it was up to him to sort it out.
“Sorry, Morris, you old lump. You’ll just have to do without me for a moment.” By now Morris was so fast asleep that he didn’t even stir as Robin hefted him onto the sofa. Robin stood and stretched, then turned off the gas and opened the doors to look out.
“Shit! Watch it! You nearly knocked me over,” Dan said, grinning as he hopped onto the deck. “Sorry about that. Just realised I’d left my kit out there where anyone could have helped themselves, but look!” He held up a rectangular pannier bag. “All here! I’m a very lucky man today.” Dan winked.
Robin turned away to the kettle, flustered. His body tingled all over in response to Dan’s proximity. He tried to focus on Dan’s words to take his mind off it. What had he said? Something about the canal being risky. A typical outsider’s presumption.
“Things are usually pretty safe down here. We’re not all thugs and criminals, you know.” Memories of some of the suspicious glares he’d received from the villagers nearby rose unbidden, and he slammed down two mugs onto the worktop before realising that Dan had already got some ready.
“Hey, I know that. But this is an expensive bit of kit I’ve got here, and it’s my livelihood, so I can’t go losing it partway through an assignment.” Dan’s voice came from right behind him. It would take only one step back to bump into him, and a quick turn to have him pinned against the counter.
But he wasn’t going to go there, was he? Not with a bloke like this. Not with someone who flirted with the confidence of a man used to getting whoever it was he’d set his sights on. Robin gripped the edge of the worktop and forced his mind back to the tea and whatever it was that Dan just told him. “Assignment?” He kept his eyes firmly on the water as he poured it out of the kettle, willing his hand to stay steady and his misbehaving body not to betray his excitement.
“Yeah, it’s a good one. Mostly I’m just given the contract for the writing, but this time they want my pictures too.”
Robin grunted in response, but after he’d slopped some milk into the mugs and given them both a quick stir, there was no excuse left to keep turned away. He found Dan leaning back against the sink counter, his legs planted wide and hips canted forward in a suggestive manner. God, did Dan always wear such tight clothing? He could see practically every muscle, every rib through his T-shirt. Dan might have been slight, but his physique gave the impression of great strength and agility. It was the kind of lean, lithe body Robin had always lusted after. The kind of body that made his hands itch to reach out and grab.
Holding the mugs out in front of him like a shield, Robin suddenly remembered his manners. “Oh, ah, I forgot to ask if you take sugar.”
“Nah, I’m told I taste sweet enough already, but I guess you’d know.” Dan’s cheeks dimpled as a particularly mischievous smile played across his lips.
Robin really didn’t want to be reminded of the delicious warmth of Dan’s mouth and the way that tongue had tasted as it slid against his own. He took a big gulp of tea to distract himself, scalding his palate in the process. He winced. At least it should help to take his mind off that exquisite kiss. Rather than look directly at Dan’s face, he focused on a bit of leaf matter that had somehow found its way into Dan’s carefully styled hair, but rather than making Dan look less appealing, it somehow had the opposite effect.
“So you’re taking photos of the canal?” Robin asked.
Dan’s smile faded a little, then recovered. “A few, but I’m more interested in the people. You’re a fascinating lot, you know that?” And then the glint in his eye was back. “I spent an hour with your ‘girlfriend’ this morning, you know? Very interesting shoot, that one. Very informative.”
The way Dan was smirking at Robin left him in no doubt that he’d been rumbled. Shit, he should have seen that one coming. Mel wasn’t really a gossip—she had too much goodwill towards others to spread malicious rumours—but she certainly loved talking. He could just imagine the two of them discussing him and all his hang-ups. He scowled down at his tea.
“Mel has a big mouth. I wouldn’t believe everything she says about me.”
“Now who says we were talking about you, Robin Hamilton?” Dan’s tone was teasing. “Although I must say, Mel was rather surprised to find out that she’s your girlfriend.”
Robin continued to stare at the surface of his tea, blaming the rising steam for the heat he could feel spreading across his cheeks. “It’s none of your business.”
“No, you’re quite right, but I’d say it was hers, wouldn’t you? Anyway, you’ll be pleased to know that she didn’t tell me anything much about you. She was too busy trying to convince me about all the other boaters I ‘need’ to go and photograph.”
Despite himself, Robin smiled. When she had her mind set on something, Mel wouldn’t let anyone else get a word in edgewise.
“She didn’t even tell me you were a carpenter,” Dan continued. “Did you fit out the inside of this boat?”
There was so much admiration in Dan’s tone Robin dared to risk looking up into those inviting eyes. “Yeah, she was just an empty shell when I bought her. I spent five months working on the inside. She’s designed just how I wanted her.” Warming to his favourite subject, he
started on the usual tour he gave to visitors the first time they stepped onboard. Dan made all the right comments when Robin pointed out the space-saving design features he’d built into the galley, the nifty mechanism to pull out the sofa into a spare bed that spread across the saloon, and his workbench that could be folded up to hide all the tools and turn a working area back into a living area.
“And the wet-room and bed cabin are at the end of the boat,” Robin finished, reluctant to show Dan down there. “Why don’t you have a look by yourself? There’s not really room for two.” Not unless you were already intimate.
Dan pouted a little, but his eyes still twinkled. “But how will I know what to appreciate if you aren’t there to guide me?”
Robin kept his face as stony as possible, but could feel his lips trying to twitch into a smile. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out by yourself. You don’t need me to hold your hand.”
“You could hold something else, if you’d rather.” Dan reached out to run his fingers lightly over Robin’s hand where it gripped the edge of his workbench. When Robin made no response to the flirting, Dan sighed theatrically. “Okay, I’ll show myself around, then, shall I?”
Once Dan was out of sight, Robin exhaled and leant back against the wall. He’d have to ask Dan to leave after he’d seen the rest. Having the guy here was stirring up too many conflicting emotions.
Dan’s voice rang out from the back of the boat—a welcome distraction. “So what made you decide to take up the boating life? It wasn’t just to show off your woodworking skills, was it?”
He should have a pat answer to that question by now, but lies never tripped easily off Robin’s tongue. They tended to stick in his throat, and he was always convinced that people could see his falsehoods written on his face. At least with Dan out of sight it was easier to respond with a half-truth.
“My grandmother gave me some of my inheritance early, to avoid the taxes.” That bit was true, at least. “It wasn’t enough to buy a house, but I’d always liked the idea of living on the water and travelling around.” That might have been a childhood dream, fostered by obsessively watching pirate films, but it had hardly been the motivating force for buying Serendipity.
“You’re like me,” Dan said, appearing in front of Robin. “I never want to get stuck in one place for too long. Variety is the spice of life, wouldn’t you say?” His smile pinched up at the edges, turning from friendly to lascivious in an instant. “I guess you would, seeing as how you like it on both sides of the fence. Tell me, Robin, are you versatile? ’Cause I am.”
“I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”
Dan threw up his hands, feigning innocence. “Okay, okay! I can see it’s a touchy subject for you. It’s fine. Like I said, whatever way works for me, but I don’t expect the rest of the world to be as easygoing.” Maybe Dan was picking up on Robin’s vibes now, because a sheepish expression passed over his face, and he gave a strange laugh that jangled on Robin’s nerves. “Look, it’s cool. I’d better get going now, I reckon. Will I see you at Mel’s party tomorrow? Sounds like it’ll be a blast.”
Oh for fuck’s sake! Was he ever going to get rid of this man? Robin muttered a noncommittal reply which Dan accepted with a knowing smile before clasping Robin’s hand briefly and racing off the boat with a cheery, “See you tomorrow, then!”
Robin glared at his fingers. They burned from Dan’s touch, craving more contact. They wanted to explore every inch of Dan’s body. They wanted to tangle in his hair.
It just wasn’t fair.
Sluts shouldn’t be so fucking enticing.
“Bleedin’ hell, she’s here.” Smiler turned to Robin with a grimace, the net curtain falling back into place. “Sorry, mate, you’d better get going. Trust me, you don’t want to meet the cow.”
“Nearly done and I’ll be out of the way.” He’d have been done about half an hour ago if Smiler hadn’t been so keyed up about his daughters. The man couldn’t stop pacing about the caravan and regaling Robin with anecdotes. Katie and Sarah sounded like two little wildcats—always racing around and driving their mother crazy.
Robin concentrated on driving the last two screws home. Yesterday’s huge problem with the plate rack had turned out to be easily solved by gluing in an extra strip of wood and turning it into a design feature. Funny how things could be so simple when you’d woken up happy. His day had got off to an almost perfect start with Morris draped over his legs, and he spent at least half an hour petting the cat silly before the desperate urge to piss finally forced him out of bed.
Maybe something was in the air today. Smiler was as close to cheerful as Robin had ever seen him, and even the prospect of having to greet the ex didn’t seem to have made too much of a dent in his mood. The man was actually living up to his name, beaming as he left the caravan. Robin shoved his screwdriver, tape and pencil back in his tool belt and followed him out into the car park.
There was a sour-faced woman in a designer suit standing next to a shiny Mercedes. Two pale blonde girls hid behind her, prim and proper in their matching pink coats, shiny shoes and white tights. Robin gawped. He hadn’t realised they were identical twins. It was hard to see anything of Smiler in them—they definitely favoured their mother. Either Smiler had really let himself go since his divorce, or the ex-wife had moved up in the world. Must be similar to what people thought when they saw Robin with his own family.
He would have just slunk away over the swing bridge if it weren’t for the fact that Smiler hadn’t paid him yet and he needed the cash. He walked over, trying to ignore the way the woman glared at him.
“All done now,” he said.
“Cheers, mate. Great job.” Smiler reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of notes. Robin watched the woman’s eyebrows rise. Smiler peeled off four twenties and handed them to him. “And here’s another for your trouble.” There was a sly smile on his face as he handed Robin another twenty.
One hundred pounds! That was almost double what they’d originally agreed. Robin grinned and clapped Smiler on the back.
“Thanks. Anything else you want doing, just ask.”
He grabbed his bike and made a quick exit. God knew what those two girls would make of the assault course. He hoped Smiler wouldn’t be too disappointed.
A pleasant afternoon cycling out to the village of Avoncliffe and spending some of his windfall on a few pints in the King’s Arms next to a roaring fire had followed. Under those circumstances, with the pleasant buzz of the alcohol in his veins and the warmth of the fire against his skin, the Dan situation didn’t seem like such a big deal after all. It wasn’t like Dan would be around for long, and he wasn’t a part of this lifestyle. Their paths would never cross again, so would it really be so dangerous? It wasn’t like they’d be emotionally involved. Dan wouldn’t do a Jamie on him. Wouldn’t be able to tear his heart out and trample on it. Robin would never let him get that close.
Robin took another deep gulp of beer and tried to banish Jamie from his mind. Dan wasn’t all that much like him anyway. The surface charm was similar, but on Jamie it had barely been able to gloss over his neuroses and self-loathing. Dan was different; he seemed optimistic to the point of lunacy, with a sense of self-worth bordering on the smug—both qualities Robin was drawn to against his will. Dan wouldn’t be the type to risk destroying his health and that of those around him. Still, Robin would have to be careful.
He bought two packets of condoms from the machine in the gents: one extra-strength and one strawberry flavoured. It never hurt to be prepared.
He was whistling when he sauntered back into the bar, and when he returned to Serendipity he made a snap decision to cruise half a mile or so until he reached a deserted stretch in the reed beds. It wasn’t as far as he was supposed to have moved, but he wanted somewhere with no neighbours peering through their portholes. Morris curled up on the roof above the engine, and Robin petted him as they chugged along, possibilities for later drifting through his mind like
smoke in the still air.
Chapter Eight
Dan could see the flickering glow of the fire below through the branches. He took a moment to lean on the fence he had chained his bike to. The night revealed a different terrain, the many shades of green, red and gold reduced to a stark contrast of light and dark, the river a silvery ribbon reflecting the full moon back at him. Shame he hadn’t brought the Nikon, but he didn’t want to be weighed down with the responsibility of taking photos. He had other ideas about how to spend his evening.
The light of the bonfire was the only warm thing in the whole vista. It drew Dan’s gaze. There would be warm bodies down there. People laughing, drinking, flirting and making merry. Maybe some of the boaters he’d photographed earlier in the day—Chris and Zoe with their brood of mischievous children, all happily crammed into one of the large Dutch barges; Tigger with his soot-blackened, dilapidated old barge, the dim light inside picking out the map of wrinkles on his bearded face; pink-haired Flora with her crystals and half-baked theories about the spirits of trees. Yes, there were the artisans and the terminally unemployable that he’d expected to find living in this way, but some of the boaters were a real surprise. Chris was a physics lecturer up at the University, and Zoe was an educational psychologist—although they both worked part-time in order to share child-care duties. Clearly the boating community was more varied than he’d first expected.
As he vaulted over the stile and made his way down the barely visible track, Dan’s stomach started to flutter in that pleasant way it always did when he was on the brink of making a conquest. The possibility that he wouldn’t be going back with Robin later was unthinkable. It was obvious that Robin fancied him, even if he was doing his best to deny it. And now that he’d been the means of returning the beloved Morris to him… Well, he figured that Robin would be feeling much better disposed towards him. A bit of alcohol, some suggestive banter, and the man would be putty in his hands. Maybe not putty, exactly—he was after something harder than that—but certainly malleable, pliant and accommodating. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in that sweet arse and fuck Robin so hard he forgot his own name…but he could be patient. He could wait and bide his time if he had to.
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