New Lease of Life (18 page)

Ouch. Unopened, too.

That’s what I thought :) It won’t be scratched. And they’ve got the juice book too. How much should I bid?

Wait. What?

Bid. How much is it worth?

Hell, did Pip want the DVD? It certainly sounded that way.

Discarding texts as a form of communication, Colby thumbed the green handset icon and waited for the call to connect.

“Don’t buy it. Seriously, if you want a copy I have plenty, but you shouldn’t even attempt that routine—”

“Why? ’Cos I’m a cripple?”

“Fuck it, Pip! Don’t do that to yourself, and don’t put words in my mouth.” Colby took a calming breath and dragged a hand through his hair. Just when he thought he was getting somewhere, Pip plunged back to self-loathing. It wouldn’t do for them both to be angry. “You didn’t let me finish. When you are up to it, I’ll
give
you a copy. Hell, when I think you can handle a more gentle routine, I’ll record you your very own video.”

“Not with that overmuscled gym bunny screaming at me.”

“No,” Colby agreed, even though from Pip’s inflection Colby knew that hadn’t been a question. “With me encouraging you the only way I know how.”

“Rainbows and Care Bears.”

At least, that’s what it sounded like Pip said.

“Pardon?”

“Thinking aloud. Will you record it from behind?”

Colby could hear the amusement in Pip’s voice and decided to lay himself open for an easy tease. “Cheeky.”

“Those were the attributes I was thinking of. You have an amazing arse.”

Wow. Colby didn’t really know how to respond. “Thanks. Squats. Lots of them. One kiss and I’ve created a rampant monster.”

“Just unleashed it. I tried to bury him along with everything else. So when will you record my video?”

Thankful to be back on familiar territory, Colby settled onto the bed. “When I think you’re ready. Right now you need physio, and if you won’t go back to your doctor, I don’t mind helping you out. Some stretches and gentle walks. The occasional massage.”

“You just want to get your hands on me,” Pip said, a hint of deprecation audible beneath the teasing tone.

“True.” Why should Colby lie, especially if the truth could make Pip feel better about himself? “I’ve made no secret of that fact. Even when you were acting like a complete tosser.”

“Thanks, I think.” Pip paused. “You know there’s a good chance that might still happen, as I think I’ve already proved this evening?”

“I’ll take the risk. And it’s not your temper that gets me riled. It’s the fact that it’s always focused inward. I like ’em small and feisty.”

“Bastard.”

“True. One of the reasons Mum married Mr. Carrington. To give us kids a name. And a real dad.”

“Damn, Colby, I—”

“Don’t worry about it. Seventy percent of the kids on our estate were bastards, almost half had no dad around or the guy they called ‘Dad’ wasn’t, and a fair few didn’t even know their dad. At least mine had a name and a face, even if he did dump us after Cris was born.”

“I’m sor—”

“Your parents are still together?” Colby asked to stop any unwanted sympathy. Roger Carrington had been the best thing to happen to his entire family and the only person Colby ever intended to call “Dad,” even if the waste of space that was his biological father walked back into his life tomorrow.

“Naturally. Divorce is such an ugly word amongst the country set.” Pip’s voice became more upper class. “Father’s family have owned that property for generations, so Mother would have no chance of getting her hands on the house. The most she could hope for is the flat in London, and there’s nowhere to keep her horses there. Anyway, the country pile is huge. You could go all day without seeing another soul.”

Colby didn’t know what to say.
That’s sad
seemed so condescending. He changed the subject. “So, you know you don’t have to buy my workout DVD to get me to date you? There’s only one stipulation for that.”

“I know. You want to see me smile more. I think I’m getting there, but I’d like to get my old body back too. There’s this guy I’ve met, and he’s really fit. Used to be a personal trainer. I think he likes me enough that there’s a chance we might get naked in the future, and I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“Read the box.
Kickstart
won’t give results overnight. Maybe not for six to eight weeks. I can’t wait that long. Anyway, I like you just the way you are. Whatever is under your clothes will do me just fine.”

A choked off noise cut off Colby’s impassioned speech.

“You okay?”

“Better than I’ve been for months,” Pip said. “Getting rid of all my clothes was meant to be a cleansing ritual to mark the acceptance of what I’d become, a shell of my former self. Something painful to cauterize the wound.” Pip sighed. “Then you knocked at my door, and I feel as though I’ve been rewarded for giving away all my treasures by getting a chance with you instead.”

“I…. Hell, Pip, I don’t know what to say. I’m glad you called my number and not one of the many other charity or secondhand shops out there.”

“Because of my fine collection of treasures?”

“Stop fishing for compliments.
You
are the finest treasure in that whole collection.”

A fist rapped twice against the bedroom door. “I thought you were tired, Colby,” Cris’s voice singsonged through the door.

“What’s that?” Pip asked.

“My sister killing the mood. Get her back under the same roof as me and she reverts to her fifteen-year-old self. She’ll be telling Mum she’s found porn under my bed again if I’m not careful.”

Pip chuckled. “She never! How old were you?”

“Seventeen. It was mortifying.”

“I best go, then. Don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Yep, it’s getting late. Busy day tomorrow.” Things had been said that neither of them seemed in any hurry to rescind. Verbal confirmation of an earlier declaration wouldn’t hurt. “I wish you were here. In my bed.”

“You managed to help me see the view from the window. I’m sure you’ll find a way to transport me there too. Night, Colby.”

“Night, Pipsqueak.”

Discarding his phone amongst the folds of his duvet, Colby snuggled back into his pillows and glanced out of the window at the night sky. Pip could be looking at the exact same stars.

Well.

Colby didn’t even have to unlock his phone to read the single word message. He knew what Pip was hinting at, but selfies really weren’t Colby’s style. They made him too self-conscious and more awkward than in a normal photograph.

But apparently he was willing to do anything for Pip, he realized as he opened the camera app on his phone. He tried several head and shoulder shots, but either they were too close-cropped or from an awkward angle that highlighted his thick dark brows and made him look Neanderthal.

He stretched, not even bothering to stifle the yawn that prompted the move, before making one last attempt to get a half-decent photo. When he checked back through the batch, he discovered a photo he hadn’t intentionally taken. His expression was sleepy but relaxed and, with the frame far wider than previous attempts, a large expanse of his bare chest was exposed for the viewer’s consideration.

Too tired and frustrated to attempt anything further and strangely happy with the casual pose, Colby sent it through.

Minutes passed with no further contact from Pip.

Had Colby taken so long getting a half-decent shot that Pip had given up and gone to sleep?

Had he even sent the message to Pip at all? Phylis Pritchard was the contact below Pip, but thankfully hers was a landline because the last thing the poor old dear would want to greet her over her cornflakes would be Colby’s fuzz-covered chest. Either that or she would forward it to her grandson.

He checked that he had sent the message to the correct number and, resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn’t get a response from Pip until the morning, Colby turned off the bedside light.

The moment he lifted the duvet to settle in under the covers, his phone trumpeted an incoming message. His original photo had been spliced with the one of his teddy bear that he’d sent to Pip on a whim several nights earlier. The words “Separated at Birth” had been transposed beneath them.

With a little chest fuzz, an insistent five-o’clock shadow, and a dark treasure trail, he hardly met any requirements of a bear, but if Pip wanted someone to hug at night, Colby would be more than happy to volunteer for the job.

“WHY ARE
you taking a photo of your burger?”

“When was the last time you bought me lunch, sis? Gotta document it somehow.” Colby glanced up and grinned, but his gaze immediately returned to his phone.
Do you want to attach a caption to this image?
Damn right he did.

8oz burger with pulled pork, chunky slaw and sweet potato fries. Yummy.

Colby pressed Send before he could change his mind and forced his phone into the front pocket of his jeans so he would feel it vibrate if Pip replied. He turned his attention back to his sister because he really didn’t have lunch with her often enough.

“How is the prep going for this get-together? I don’t know why you didn’t just get the pub to put together some finger food. I’d have paid for it.”

“You know Mum will appreciate the effort more if we do the work ourselves. And you are paying for it. Giving me your credit card to buy the last of the ingredients might have been a foolish thing to do.”

“Have you been shoe shopping?” Colby asked, only slightly concerned at the wicked grin flashed his way.

“No, although there was a darling pair of sequined pumps in that shoe shop in the parade ’round the corner from Mum’s.”

Colby had to stifle a laugh. The way Cris had said daarhling, all stretched vowels and extra
h
’s, reminded him of Pip.

“What? I was at the cake shop before you ask why I’d stepped out of the kitchen.”

“I wasn’t going to. You reminded me of somebody.”

“Who?”

It was way too soon to bring Pip to Cris’s attention.
Who the hell was that judge from
Strictly
who exaggerated his darlings?

“Um, just someone off TV. Forgotten his name. Use my card, and get yourself the shoes. You’ll only regret it if they’re gone tomorrow.”

Cris squealed. “You’re the best big brother ever. So, how is ‘Operation Distract Mum’ going?”

“Fine, I think. I’ve left her at the hairdressers’ as you instructed. And I’ve picked up some cheap stock for the shop.” His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he blocked out his sister’s admonishment about buying stock for a charity shop from charity shops while he pondered what Pip’s response might be.

“Colby! I’m getting a refill.” Cris waggled her glass in front of his face. “Do you want one?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Cris picked up his glass, and Colby waited until her back was turned before he slipped his phone from his pocket.

I’m hungry now.
Pip’s message was followed by a pouting emoticon.

Good. That had been Colby’s intention. That and letting Pip know he was thinking about him. Hadn’t stopped thinking about him.

Eat then. I know you make a mean sandwich.

If his sandwiches were anything to go by, Pip could cook a darn sight better than Colby, who could manage pasta, juice shakes, and not much else.

I want your burger.

Sorry? You want my meat?

Pervert!

Colby grinned. Flirting by text had never held much appeal, but with Pip, it was fun. And preferable to having to go the whole weekend without any form of contact.

He contemplated his response, settling on something that might be pushing Pip into a corner.
I don’t put out before a first date.

Does lunch on Monday count?

Yes! Pip wanted their lunch date to be an actual
date
date. Colby could get totally behind that idea since it had been his intention all along.

“What are you smiling at?” Cris plonked his glass on the table, lemonade cascading down the side to puddle at the base.

Definitely. Gotta go <3

Had the heart been too much? Too late now; he’d sent it. He slipped his phone back into his pocket to remove temptation.

“Colby!”

“What?”

Cris was glaring at him over her dinner. “What are you smiling at? You looked soppy as anything.”

Colby snatched up the barbeque sauce and smothered his burger in the stuff. “Just looking forward to my big hunk of meat.”

“OI!” A
slap to the back of his head accompanied the next words. “Caught you.”

Colby fumbled his phone and took a step forward to regain his balance. His sister could really pack a punch when she caught him off guard. “Cris! What the hell?” He slipped the phone into his pocket.

“Hey, big brother. Why are you lurking in the corner? Come out and join the party.”

“Small gathering, you said. There must be near on sixty people here.”

“Mum’s only fifty once. People wanted to help her celebrate.” His sister shrugged and drained the dregs of Bucks Fizz in her champagne flute. “Who was I to say they couldn’t come? We can take her out somewhere just the five of us tomorrow.”

She waggled her glass at him and looked around for somewhere to abandon it. “Come on.” She nudged him with her hip. “We’re clearing a place for the desserts.”

“Carrot cake?”

“Of course. It’s your favorite.”

Would Pip like carrot cake? Maybe he could steal some for their lunch date on Monday.

Distracted by cream cheese frosting and all the places on Pip he could slather it and then lick him clean, Colby didn’t notice his sister’s subterfuge until she was dancing away, his phone in her hand.

“Let’s see what’s got you so unsociable this weekend. You’ve been on this thing constantly.”

“Nobody!”

“Ah-ha! I said what, not who.” She swiped the phone and flicked her finger up the screen. “Pip, Pip, Pip, Pip. Okay, who’s Pip? New boyfriend?”