Release form? What the fuck? But the heat in Dan’s gaze stirred something inside him, and Robin had the sudden urge to flaunt himself.
“Watch this,” he said, grinning at Dan before running and leaping onto the first of the boats. He landed on the deck with a thunk, sprang up onto the gunwales and launched himself onto the small cruiser that was next in line. A couple more jumps, a momentary pause to whip undone his hitch, and he was back on Serendipity. He ran down the roof, vaulted over the woodpile and landed with a twist on the tiny back deck. He could hear the clapping from the other side of the canal and looked up to meet Dan’s admiring gaze…and a decidedly knowing smile from Mel.
“Better get your camera ready,” he called to Dan over the noise of the engine before putting Serendipity in gear. He steadfastly refused to look Dan’s way as he steered through the narrow passage, keeping his face set in a serious expression, but it was hard to resist the smile that twitched at his lips as Dan called out instructions like an uber-camp fashion photographer. At one point he had to turn away and hide his face.
“That’s beautiful, darling. We’ll have a pout next time, okay? That’s it, oooh, sexy. Now, imagine you’re a tiger.”
“Piss off!” Robin’s laughter broke the surface, and he turned to see Dan still watching him through the camera’s lens with a mischievous grin. He turned away again, concentrating on steering Serendipity into the short stretch of bank on this side of the bridge. This time there were no boats to leap over, but Dan continued snapping away as Robin swung the bridge back across the canal. It was hard to know where to look. He’d never been particularly at ease with having his picture taken—every year growing up, his mother had complained about yet another scowl in their annual family portrait shot.
The bridge was still moving as Dan stepped onto it and strode over with an expression that did funny things to Robin’s insides. He leant on the other side of the beam as Robin wiped the sweat from his brow with his T-shirt before pulling it on over his head.
“That was quite a performance. I had no idea you were so athletic.” Robin could hear the lust roughening Dan’s voice, and he swallowed hard. He looked down at Dan’s chest, displayed provocatively in a tight red T-shirt with “flirt” written across the front in bold script.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“I look forward to finding them all out. Later…” Dan ran a finger along Robin’s forearm, and Robin wanted to pull him closer. But he couldn’t. Not here. Not in public. He looked across to where Mel was tapping her foot, hands on her hips.
“So where are you off to?” Dan asked. “Not trying to escape me, I hope. I’m pretty persistent, you know.”
“We’re already late,” Mel called, “so if you could stop chatting up the locals for five minutes, we need to get to Smiler’s before he changes his mind about this.”
“Smiler? I thought you were only interested in boaters?” Robin said.
“Oh, I am, don’t you worry,” Dan purred, his finger tracing a line over Robin’s jaw. “But as he’s a splash of local colour, I figured I should go and investigate. I do love those crazy, rustic types, even when they threaten me.”
“Not sure what he’ll say.” Robin apprised Dan’s figure-hugging outfit, which screamed GAY at the same time as making his mouth water. “Probably tell you to ‘get orf’ his land.”
“Well, I’m hoping he’ll let me take a little break. I’m not finding my bike seat too comfortable today.” Robin flushed, and Dan took advantage of his mortification by planting a quick kiss on his lips. “See you later, sexy.”
Robin closed his eyes and deliberately calmed his breathing. When he finally opened them, Dan and Mel were both mounted on their bikes, watching him. He raised his hand in a feeble wave, and they blew him kisses before setting off, the mock grimace on Dan’s face as he lowered himself onto his seat no doubt all for Robin’s benefit. Bastard.
But Robin couldn’t tear his eyes away. He kept watching until the red of Dan’s T-shirt disappeared into the distance.
“Robin, darling, have you been avoiding my calls? You know how I worry about you all alone on that awful boat.”
Robin held the phone away from his ear and could still hear his mother’s strident tones blaring out at him. He walked back to the boat to check the level of water in the tank before interrupting her torrent of words.
“Don’t worry, I’ve just been moored up where there’s no reception. I called you as soon as I got your messages. There was no need to leave so many.” He hadn’t bothered listening to the last six, deleting them straight away.
“Well, don’t you think you should be moored up somewhere with the basics of civilisation? What if there was an emergency? You know I’m only saying it because I care, darling. Why not get yourself a place in a marina? I’ve been looking into it, and there’s one down by the Aqueduct that looks lovely. Your father and I would pay for you.”
For crying out loud! “It’s not about the money. I don’t like living so close to everyone else. What’s the point in living on a boat if you don’t keep moving around, seeing new places?”
He heard a loud sniff. “Well, I’ve never been able to understand the appeal of living on one of those death traps anyway. Honestly, Robin, wouldn’t you prefer a proper house somewhere? I don’t like the idea of you living like some kind of gypsy. It was bad enough when you got all those tattoos and decided you were part-time gay. Do you plan on spending your whole life doing things that make me worry about you?”
Robin ground his teeth and bit back all the things he really wanted to say. “This isn’t about you, Mum. It’s about what I want. Now, do you have something to tell me about Miri or not?”
Fortunately, the chance to speak about the impending grandchild was irresistible to his mum, and Robin’s mind drifted as she chattered on about the designer nursery décor and developmental toys that Miranda’s lawyer husband had been able to provide for the baby. Poor little Patrick Oswald, not even born yet and already his whole life was mapped out for him. They’d probably hothouse the kid so he could turn into one of those freaky child prodigies and make up for Robin’s fucked-up life. He shoved the phone between his ear and shoulder as he turned off the water tap and reeled in his hosepipe, barely paying attention to the aural onslaught.
“I said, will you be around on Saturday? Your father has a ticket for the rugby, and Miranda and I are going to hit the shops in Bath for baby things. They have some of the cutest little outfits. Then I thought we could all go for lunch together.”
Saturday? Robin realised he had no idea if Dan would still be around on Saturday. “Umm, I’m not sure, I might have plans.”
“You might have plans? You either do or you don’t. Why not check your diary?”
“You know I don’t keep a diary.”
“Yes, well, I give you one for Christmas every year, so I don’t know why you don’t use the bloody things. Honestly, Robin, your handwriting isn’t that bad. I remember your tutors saying that you just needed to put in more regular practise rather than spending all your time fooling around with that hooligan boyfriend of yours.”
He really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. “Fine! Look, I’ll be there. Just leave a message to remind me. I might be out of reception for a while, but I’ll cycle somewhere with a signal every day.”
“What a time to decide you want to be out of range! Honestly, I don’t know where you get it from. I’m sure your father and I were never this awkward when we were young. As a matter of fact, I distinctly remember—”
“Bye, Mum.” He took a perverse pleasure in hanging up on her in mid-flow and immediately switched his phone off. But all the simmering anticipation he’d been feeling about his evening with Dan had evaporated at the mention of Jamie, and his thoughts swirled dark and gloomy as he cruised to the winding hole, turned and set off back to the mooring spot.
But this was no good. Wallowing in it never got him anywhere. Fortun
ately he knew just how to cheer himself up. Robin moored up, then went to get out his tools.
Chapter Thirteen
The setting sun cast warm rays into the clouds, leaving the valley in shadow as it dipped down behind the hill. As he cycled out to Robin’s boat, Dan inhaled lungfuls of fragrant woodsmoke, occasionally varied by the sharper scent of smokeless fuel. The boats were already lit up inside, casting warm lozenges of light onto the grass bank. The stretch out towards Robin’s boat was lonely and dark in comparison. It was a world away from cycling through the choking fumes, dazzling lights and hectic noise of London. Absolute quiet reigned. It was almost…spooky.
Dan shivered, glad that he’d thought to pack his panniers with spare clothing this time. He had the bag of fish and chips tucked into his jacket keeping him warm—no doubt it was also making him smell like a chippy, but he had a feeling Robin wouldn’t hold it against him. The guy always seemed to smell of fresh sweat himself. Dan thought back to their encounter on the bridge that afternoon and the hot, smoky tang rising from Robin’s body that had made his mouth water.
Serendipity was pointing the wrong way, confusing Dan for a moment. But of course, part of the general weirdness that was boat living, no doubt—constantly changing which side of your home looked onto land, and which onto water.
He faced the plank. It shone pale against the dark reeds and even darker water beneath. His pulse raced at the idea of crossing it alone. But he couldn’t call Robin out to hold his hand. He’d managed to cross it earlier on when leaving, so he could do it again now. It wasn’t any more dangerous in the dark. And there was absolutely no need for him to jump out of his skin just because some fucking owl had hooted. He stepped onto the springy board and stumbled onto the front deck with a surge of pride, despite his jelly knees.
Should he knock? Robin must know he was here. The whole boat rocked like a fairground ride after his clumsy arrival. Might as well make a grand entrance. Dan flung the doors open and entered with as much of a flourish as was possible while laden with panniers, camera bag, and the chips down his jacket.
“Come and get ’em while they’re still warm! There’s a man-size portion of delicious hot, salty treats hidden away under my clothing for some lucky fella to ferret out.”
Robin was closing the lid of the farther-away, built-in footstool, and he straightened with an indecipherable expression on his face. “Hi,” he said, closing the space between them.
Dan couldn’t breathe for a moment after seeing the blaze in Robin’s eyes. Robin’s hands closed over his, and Dan inclined his head for a kiss. But instead of the pressure of lips against his, he felt his hands relieved of their load. Robin turned away to place the bags on the floor beyond the sofa. Stupid to be disappointed about that—it wasn’t like they were a couple or anything.
“Quite a load. Planning on moving in, are you?”
It was hard to know whether Robin was teasing or not when Dan couldn’t see his face, but he went for his usual banter. “Well, if you insist, I suppose I could for the rest of the week. Your bed’s so much more comfortable than mine.” His stomach clenched in anticipation. Oh God, he hadn’t realised how much he wanted to stay until he was slap-bang up against the possibility of Robin saying no.
Robin turned to face him, and Dan relaxed when he saw the smile tugging at his lips. “Is that all you’re after? A decent night’s kip?”
“I was rather hoping you’d keep me up half the night instead.” Robin flushed slightly, but Dan saw his eyes grow darker. “First things first, I reek of battered fish, so how about helping me find some plates and things?”
A huge plate of fish and chips later, Dan licked the grease off his fingers and cast a sly glance at Robin, who was mopping up the last of the ketchup with a chip. Robin’s lips were coated with an oily sheen. Dan salivated as he imagined running his tongue over them, then down over the bristles to the smoother skin of Robin’s neck and chest. Would he have the opportunity to explore Robin’s body tonight? It was always so delightful to get to know a new lover’s body in intimate detail. To find out what touch where would send him into ecstasies; to discover just what sort of noises escaped him when Dan’s tongue went wandering; to revel in all the different flavours of a new man.
Robin looked up at Dan; then his eyes dropped and he bit his bottom lip. Curious, to be so hesitant after his behaviour the previous night. Rather charming, though, the way Robin kept surprising him.
“So, are you too stuffed to move, or do you fancy working off some of those calories?” Dan asked.
“I think I need to let my food go down first.” Robin stuck out his belly and rubbed it slowly. “Mum always said you shouldn’t exercise on a full stomach. How about a film instead?”
Dan looked around the boat, puzzled. There was no evidence of any entertainment system. “You’d better not be suggesting we cycle out to the cinema. I’m far too cosy for that right now.” He emphasised his words by shifting closer and dropping his head onto Robin’s shoulder. The effect he was after was somewhat spoiled by the plate falling from his lap and onto the floor, but Robin just chuckled and wrapped an arm around him.
“I’m not a complete Luddite, you know. I have technology. I have DVDs.”
“Where are they, then?” From the looks of his home, you wouldn’t think Robin had any interests beyond woodworking and playing the guitar. There weren’t even any books.
“My feet are on them.”
“Ah, so that’s what you were doing when I arrived. Hiding your technology.”
Dan felt Robin’s body tense slightly and had to move as Robin stood and lifted the lid of the bench nearest the fire.
“I prefer to keep it hidden, as I don’t like to have to lock the boat. I’m less likely to get burgled if no one can see anything worth taking.” Dan watched as Robin carefully lifted out a smallish flat-screen television and placed it on the other footstool. “What do you want to watch?”
“Got any porn?”
Robin turned towards Dan, amusement twitching his lips. “I’ve got a couple of discs, but I don’t think you’d like them. They’ve got women in them too.”
Dan screwed his face up. “Eww, what do you want to watch straight porn for?”
“It’s not straight, it’s bi. I told you I was bi, didn’t I?” Robin’s cheeks flushed as he pulled out a DVD with a lurid screenshot of a woman and two men entangled on the front.
“I thought that was just a cover story. You set my gaydar off big-time.”
“I’ve slept with girls plenty of times.”
“Yeah, right.” Dan gave Robin what he hoped was a penetrating stare. The guy was protesting too much.
“I have. You think I’ve been celibate the last few years? Think again. I can prove it. Ask Mel. She’ll tell you.”
Was Robin saying what he thought he was? “You’ve slept with Mel?”
“Yeah. A few times. We had fun.” Robin was holding something back, though, he could tell.
“As much fun as you had with me?” Dan kept his tone light, but he really wanted to know. For some reason it was terribly important that Robin was as into this as he was. “You sure you’re not really gay after all? Sure you haven’t been secretly lusting after cock all this time?”
“I expect you reckon you can convert me with the power of your dick or something.” Robin grinned. “Okay, no porn with girls in. How about a kung fu movie instead? That’s got lots of half-naked men getting all physical with each other. Will that do?”
“I’ll give it a go, but I’ve never been that keen. The stuff my brother liked was just mindless violence—all muscley guys with dead eyes beating the shit out of each other.” Dan had hated the way Pete and his mates would get wild-eyed and aggressive after watching them. Even as a child, he’d been afraid of being on the receiving end of a beating if Pete found out what Dan really thought about some of his friends.
“Right, then, something with a storyline and a sense of humour. I know, you’ll like this one. It
’s got Jet Li in it, back from before he went all Hollywood.” Robin held up a disc with a picture of the actor in traditional Cantonese garb and one of those bizarre half-shaved hairdos. Dan nodded, wondering what he was letting himself in for.
Dan watched Robin plugging everything in—it turned out he’d built in a decent speaker system and hidden it behind latticework—and pondered what it must be like to live full-time in a space like this. You could stand with your arms stretched out and touch both walls—everything was easily accessible if you had the right storage. In some ways it wasn’t too different to his tiny flat in Balham, but so much cosier. No draughty sash windows and crippling gas bills for Robin. Here, you just had to chuck a fresh log on the fire every half an hour or so and had all the fun of watching the flames rather than your gas meter spinning around.
The tinny Chinese music started up, and Robin slumped beside him, remote control in hand. Dan looked at the menu screen and caught Robin selecting the dubbed version.
“You don’t have to do that—I’m fine with subtitles.”
Robin kept staring at the screen. His jaw worked, but no sound came out.
“Just ’cause I’m not posh like you, doesn’t mean I can’t cope with subtitled foreign films. I’ve seen a few. Got a bit of a thing for some of those French actors. It’s much better when you can hear their proper voices instead of some bloody ridiculous American translation that doesn’t match their lip movements.” Dan kept babbling, but something wasn’t quite right, and he didn’t know how to approach it.
In the end, he shut up and waited, watching the way Robin’s fingers clenched around the remote. His knuckles were white, and Dan reached out to lay a hand over them. Robin gave a long, shuddering sigh and began talking in a low voice, his eyes on their hands.
“We could put the subtitles on, but I won’t be able to read them fast enough. I’m dyslexic. Pretty fucking severely dyslexic.” Robin’s laugh was a short bark, devoid of mirth.
“I didn’t know.”
Barging In Page 10
