New Lease of Life (14 page)

Okay, maybe not the last one, but a boy could dream.
Eat me. Drink me. Try my juice.
Sounded like a porn movie.

“Did you just laugh?”

Pip refocused on where Colby was staring over at him. He’d been watching the way Colby moved around the shop but in a wholly abstract fashion, all thighs and butt.

“Me?” Had he?

“Er. Yeah, you. What’s amused you?”

“I can laugh, you know.”

Colby’s expression morphed from amused to fond in the blink of an eye, and Pip swore he could see Care Bears frolicking in Colby’s gaze.

“I know,” Colby said in that gentle tone that he seemed to use on Pip a lot. “I just wish I’d been watching.”

Pip didn’t know what to say.

“So,” Colby said, his amused expression returning. “What made you laugh?”

The rattle of hangers was noticeable by its absence. Pip flicked his gaze over to the customer. Mostly hidden by a rail of clothes, she watched their byplay with glee.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate to say in company.” Pip could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Later, then.”

“Maybe,” Pip mumbled and dropped his gaze, pretending to study the handle of his walking stick.

A pile of magazines under the counter caught his attention. Pip snagged the top one.
Country Life
. Something familiar would take his mind off the distracting presence of Colby in his peripheral vision. His mother subscribed, and Pip had been flicking the pages of the magazine since he was old enough to look at the pictures. She still dropped the occasional copy off to him, even though he didn’t live in the country anymore.

The layout looked different to what he was used to, and Pip flicked back to the front cover. June 1976. No wonder. Even the magazines were vintage in Colby’s shop. Choosing a likely looking article from the table of contents, Pip settled in for a history lesson.

THREE ARTICLES
in and Pip, with no interest in fox hunting, had skipped to the adverts at the back of the magazine. The tinkle of the bell above the shop door barely registered as he smirked at an ad for deerstalker hats, wondering how many Sherlock Holmes films had come out in the midseventies to make that hideous piece of headwear a fashionable item amongst the landed gentry.

A shadow fell over the magazine. “I think I’ve got one of those in the shop somewhere, if you’re interested.”

Pip glanced up, his gaze raking Colby’s body. He couldn’t be blamed for that; Colby was standing so close that his long legs, chunky thighs, and solid torso filled Pip’s field of dreams. Vision, he’d meant field of vision. He dragged his attention away and glared at the display of hats on the far wall.

“I haven’t actually got it out on display. Those things are ugly. Nobody is going to buy that on a whim. Right.” Colby dropped down into a squat at Pip’s feet. “Where does it hurt?”

“What are you doing?” Shocked, Pip shot his gaze back to Colby so quickly that he was surprised his eyeballs didn’t pop out and bounce away over the glass counter top.

“Looking at your ankle.”

“No!”

“Please. It was my fault, and I don’t like to think of you hurting because of me. Hell, I don’t like to think of you hurting, full stop. I’ll just take your shoe off. No skin-on-skin contact if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”

How the hell was he supposed to resist Colby’s pleading puppy dog expression? “Okay. Just my shoe. Nobody needs to see my pale, bony feet.”

Carefully Colby untied Pip’s laces and eased the sneaker from his foot. The sure but gentle press of Colby’s fingers mapped out bones and tendons. Then Colby rested Pip’s foot on the solid muscle of his thigh, hummed to himself, and started massaging Pip’s aching ankle.

Heat and friction warmed the joint, but it was the thought that Colby willingly had his hands on Pip that caused the flutter in Pip’s belly. A collision of desire and fear that had Pip wanting to sink further into Colby’s reassuring touch and yet, at the same time, bolt like a frightened rabbit. Of course running away wasn’t really on the agenda, especially wearing only one shoe. In order to prevent the escape of a shameless moan that Pip felt building from deep within him, Pip groped around for a suitable subject of conversation and settled on one that would likely kill the mood.

“Did you use your hush money to set up
Kickstart
?”

Colby’s fingers tightened, digging hard into the space beneath his anklebone. He’d probably deserved that, but Pip couldn’t hide the wince that the pain produced.

“Shit! Sorry.” Colby massaged the pain away with swift, circular motions. “No. That money made me feel like a whore, so I gave it away—made large donations to a couple of charities. The gesture backfired slightly because I got a trip to Africa out of it to see how my money had been spent. That’s what started my interest in charity work and planted the seed of the idea for all this.” Colby made a vague indication with his free hand. “But the
Kickstart
DVD really sprang from nothing. One of my clients was going overseas to film and wanted to continue her training workout while she was away. I just got a mate to film me running her through her workout. She showed it to someone in the industry, and the rest is history.”

Moving away from the ankle, Colby cupped Pip’s heel and tilted the sole of his foot up. Colby’s thumbs danced lightly over the ball of Pip’s foot, down over the arch, and back again. At various points he seemed to press harder: just under Pip’s small and large toes, on the base of his heel.

“Ahh! Wow. What was—”

“Reflexology. Hopefully that will give you some relief from the points that are causing you pain. It would be more effective skin on skin—”

“You’re good with people,” Pip said in lieu of asking if there was a place on his foot that could help with the semi he was now sporting, just from Colby’s proximity and the threat of skin-on-skin contact. “You would have made a great front man for your DVD. You’ve got the body, an encouraging attitude, and passion for the product.”

“I wasn’t ripped enough and was too soft in my delivery, apparently.”

“Bollocks.”

“Hmm. How’s that feel?”

“Good. I feel… looser?”

“You’re relaxed. Reflexology is more than a foot massage. More than pain relief. I could do things to you with your feet that you wouldn’t believe.”

The sudden seductive lilt in Colby’s voice implied there was the possibility of a foot massage with a happy ending. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Colby swayed closer and lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in the shop to hear him. “When we’re not in public, ask me about the Bubbling Spring.”

Bubbling Spring?
Pip felt like he was floating on a cloud. He wanted Colby’s hands everywhere, not just on his feet. “Show me now.”

“No.” Colby dropped back onto his heels, his voice suddenly serious. “You already make me do things I wouldn’t normally do. I never so much as ignore a parking ticket and you’ve got me, not quite breaking the law, but acting in a morally dubious manner. Stalking. Stealing. I’m not adding unsolicited sexual contact to the list.”

“Stalking?”

“I watched you sleeping,” Colby mumbled, looking anywhere but at Pip.

“Oh. I thought I was dreaming.” Now that Colby no longer had that firm grim on his ankle, Pip changed the angle of his foot, pressing it flat against Colby’s thigh. “It made me feel sheltered. Protected. I shouldn’t have felt safe enough to sleep with a stranger in my house, but I did.”

“I stole your crutch.”

“And replaced it with this beautiful piece of craftsmanship.” Pip poked the silver ferrule at the base of the cane into Colby’s belly. “Which I have on good authority is the real deal. And don’t tell me it’s from this shop, because I know that it isn’t.”

He poked again with his stick and at the same time rubbed his foot over Colby’s thigh until it nudged against Colby’s hand. He waited until Colby raised his gaze enough to catch his eye.

“As for anything else, I haven’t felt this relaxed and disconnected from my pain in ages. You’re a craftsman, and your hands are your tools. I’d let you work on me any time.” Pip’s face flamed as he tried to rein in his verbal diarrhea. “Oh my God, I’ve forgotten how to talk like a normal human being. I’m either shouting at people or babbling inappropriately. Change the subject, quickly. Tell me why you didn’t fight to be the face of your own product. And see if you can find a point on my foot that will cure me of terminal embarrassment.”

Colby chuckled and, after another nudge, took Pip’s foot in his hands again. “Can’t promise I can do anything for that. I might be able to find the point that stimulates your appetite.”

“You’re doing that just kneeling there,” Pip mumbled under his breath.

“Eh?”

“I said, you’ve already helped with that. Leaving those chocolate protein shakes in my fridge. I had one for breakfast. Now tell me why you didn’t fight to be the face of
Kickstart
. Or even come to the advertising presentations.”

“Honestly, I like my quiet life. Fifteen minutes of fame doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest, and it didn’t then either.” Colby shrugged. “Anyway, the production company made it perfectly clear that my sexuality would be a problem if I chose to be out and proud. To counter any rumors that might resurface from my
old
life, they wanted me to be seen around town with one of my clients, a female pop star barely out of her teens. I refused. I’d seen too many people hiding who they really were because of their public persona to put myself through that.”

“The Hollywood crush and the old queen.”

“And others. So I stepped back and let them deal with finding a face for my idea. I still got my payment and my royalties, and I could kiss whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Like now.”

“What?” Pip squeaked. He’d deny it to his dying day but that noise wouldn’t have sounded out of place from the mouth of a mouse.

“Pip, you squeaked.” Colby grinned. “Why should that come as such a surprise to you? I’ve wanted to kiss you since you swore at me on your doorstep.”

“Because I made such a good impression.”

“I like tiny guys with passionate personalities. I’m not going to lie, you tick all my boxes for a quick fuck, but the more I’ve got to know you the more I want. Coffee—”

“We had smoothies,” Pip interrupted because he didn’t need to hear the things Colby wanted from him. Just in case they didn’t match with his own seeds of desire that Colby had planted deep within him. Or maybe it would be worse if they did. If Colby made Pip want—
too late
—and when the time came rejected him….

Too pale. Too gaunt. Your leg, I can see teeth marks.

Pip pushed aside memories of the last time he’d been naked in front of anyone. One month out of hospital and it had taken far too many painkillers to even attempt to walk without his crutch. Enough to make Pip wonder with hindsight if his judgment had been impaired in his choice of hookup or if he had just been that desperate to prove he could still be attractive to somebody. All Pip achieved that night had been a stonking headache, a huge taxi bill, and the total destruction of the last vestiges of his positive body image. He’d taken nothing constructive from that night, not even a blowjob since his dick had decided that being naked in front of a stranger already unimpressed with his body would be the perfect time to try out penile dysfunction.

“Hey, Pipsqueak, where’d ya go?”

Pressure on his cheek dragged Pip back from the darkness of his memories. Colby had moved; no longer sitting back on his heels, he was kneeling up and in, his face level with Pip’s and closer than Pip expected. He jerked back instinctively, Colby’s hand falling away from where he’d cupped Pip’s jaw. Immediately Pip missed the pressure from the swipe of Colby’s thumb over the side of his face.

“It’s okay,” Colby said, his broken expression claiming it was anything but. “I’m not going to force myself on you.”

Placing one hand on the arm of the chair and, despite the perceived rejection, still mindful of the position of Pip’s damaged ankle, Colby pushed himself to his feet. Before he could straighten, or get too far away, Pip grabbed the front of Colby’s shirt. Tugging, he pulled the much larger man off balance and surged up to meet him. Pip braced himself for the full weight of Colby’s body to come crashing down on top of him as their mouths collided in a painful mash of teeth and lips.

“Ow!” Colby muttered against Pip’s lips.

Pip pulled back far enough to see that Colby’s arms were braced against the back of the chair to stop him falling. Worse first kiss ever. Stupid, useless bastard. Couldn’t even get that right. “Sorry.”

“It’s not over yet. And you’re not stupid or useless.”

Did I—

“Yes, you did say that out loud.” Colby licked his lips—probably checking for blood from Pip’s teeth—and then swayed back in.

With his lips barely parted, Pip held his breath and waited. A whisper of air touched his lips, and then Colby’s mouth molded to his in a gentle caress that didn’t quite breach the seam of his lips.

The cushion dipped beneath Pip’s thighs as Colby rested his knees against the edge of the seat, taking the weight off his arms. Colby’s hand returned to that familiar spot on Pip’s face, palm cupping his jaw, thumb stroking over his cheek. On a downward stroke, Colby teased the corner of Pip’s mouth with his thumb. Although he applied barely any pressure, Pip opened willingly under the questioning touch. Colby sighed into Pip’s mouth before deepening the kiss and sliding his tongue past Pip’s lips.

A far-off tinkle permeated the far reaches of Pip’s consciousness, and Colby eased out of the kiss. Reluctantly, Pip released his hold on Colby’s shirt, aware that the damn bell indicated the presence of a third party. Apparently unperturbed by the thought of an audience, Colby dipped his head back for second helpings. A quick kiss morphed into sucking on Pip’s lower lip until the rustle of plastic bags dragged them apart.

“Come, come, Colby. Put your boyfriend down, I haven’t got all day. I’ve a WI bake sale at the church at four, and I have to pop home and pick up my goods.”