New Lease of Life (19 page)

“Just a friend.”

“Right. A friend that you’ve messaged—” Lines formed in her forehead as her gaze scanned the screen. “Thirty-six times since you arrived at ours yesterday. Texts. Photos.” She grimaced. “Have you been sending mucky photos?”

“No! Jesus! Why would you think that? Pip doesn’t get out much.” Colby shrugged and reached for his phone. “I’m just trying to show him what he’s missing by shutting himself away.”

Anticipating his move as only a sibling could, Cris turned, shielding the phone with her back. “You should have brought him with you. You know Mum would love to meet your boyfriend.”

“He’s
not
my boyfriend,” Colby tried again, his halfhearted protest falling on deaf ears. “And did you miss the part where he’s practically a recluse?”

Except he came to the shop yesterday.

“Hmm. If I open this and it’s a photo of your dick, you’re dead meat.”

“Sheesh, Cris. If I said that they were, would you not open them at all?”

“Nice try.” Cris stabbed at the phone. “Huh. It’s all boring stuff.”

“Well, you did say you didn’t want to see my dick.”

“Yeah, but Uncle Felix’s waistcoat and trews. The view from your bedroom window at Mum’s. The burger you had for lunch.”

“Oh my God. Are you looking at all of them?”

“It’s OMG. You’re gay, you should know—” She broke off, staring at the screen aghast. “Me in my curlers!”

“You look beautiful. He appreciates beautiful things.” Beautiful old things, but best not to mention that.

“I’m married.”

“He’s gay.”

“So he
is
your boyfriend.”

“No.”

Her voice softened. “But you’d like him to be. Falling hard and fast again, big brother?”

Yep. “Maybe. We’ve got our first date on Monday. It’s only lunch but I’m thinking of a picnic in the park. He could do with some fresh air and spring sunshine.” And some pleasant memories to associate with green spaces, after his recent trauma.

Glancing down at the screen, Cris paused then flicked back one. With a small smile, she closed the photo album and handed the phone back to Colby. “Sounds perfect.”

TUGGING ON
the cuffs of his shirt, Pip studied his reflection in the shop window. The clothes didn’t fit as badly as he had thought they might. The slim-legged moleskin trousers didn’t cling quite as enticingly to his legs as they’d done in the past. Less “skinny” and more “boyfriend cut.” Thankfully, Colby had left him a belt to stop his trousers from ending up around his ankles, although in Colby’s presence that wouldn’t be too much of a hardship. Might have been slightly disconcerting for the cab driver, though.

The tweed jacket and plain white shirt seemed to fit just fine. He’d never been particularly built across the shoulders, so the sudden loss of exercise from his daily jog hadn’t really affected the muscle tone in that area.

Smoothing down the front of his shirt, Pip wondered if he was tempting fate by not wearing the tweed waistcoat Colby had left for him. He’d purposely left that item hanging in the wardrobe, lured by the memory of the yin and yang waistcoat he’d hidden to the back of the rail in Colby’s shop on Friday. A lick of excitement flared in his chest at the thought of acquiring a new item of clothing. He had the money in his pocket, more than enough to pay the price on the ticket, buy lunch, and get a cab home.

As eager as he was to check out the waistcoat, that feeling paled into insignificance next to the desire to see Colby again. It had only been two days, but a weekend of phone calls and flirty texts had left Pip keyed up with the anticipation of where this date might lead. A date, a proper date—even if it was only lunch—rather than a hookup in a dark club or a mutually conducive fumble after one too many Pimm’s and the heat of a sunny riverbank. Or champagne and the adrenaline of a win at the races. G & T and the final of the polo championships.

Apparently sex and alcohol had formed a shaky alliance for his previous relationships. Not something he was eager to confess to Colby.

He’d not imbibed a drop since meeting Colby, and yet he could think of nothing he wanted more than to drop to his knees behind that counter—even though it would hurt like hell—and nuzzle his face against the bulge in Colby’s trousers. Yet, as much as he wanted to do that, he also wanted to see Colby’s face light up when he stepped into the room. He wanted languorous kisses, Colby’s large hands cradling his head. He wanted laughter. Lots and lots of laughter.

Unable to wait a moment longer, Pip pushed through the doorway and stepped into the shop. Colby stood behind the counter, deep in conversation, the handset of the old-fashioned, olive green dial phone pressed to his ear. Nevertheless, at the sound of the bell, Colby’s gaze zeroed in on the door, and his face transformed from polite interest to a megawatt grin as soon as he laid eyes on Pip.

Just that display of enthusiasm sent a thrill through Pip, and he moved ever closer to the counter. Colby’s gaze only left Pip once, to jot a note on a pad in front of him, and when Pip stepped into a space where he wasn’t partially hidden by rails of clothing, Colby gave him a searing look from head to toe.

“Wow,” Colby mouthed.

That made Pip smile. Colby did that a lot, and hadn’t that been the prerequisite for a date? Less than a week ago, Pip wouldn’t have thought that he would have been able to fulfill that requirement. Now, it seemed, he couldn’t stop. His cheek muscles ached almost as much as his ankle at the moment.

Pausing at the display where he had hidden the waistcoat, Pip flicked through the items of clothing as casually as he could muster. The metallic clink of clothes hangers being shifted back and forth on the display railings more or less covered the minutiae of Colby’s conversation, leaving just the rumble of his voice on the edges of Pip’s consciousness. Back to front Pip searched and then back again, just in case he’d missed it the first time. Nothing. Maybe it had been the next rail along.
Maybe someone had bought it.

“You look amazing.” The receiver hung loosely from Colby’s fingers, but he no longer spoke into it.

Despite his disappointment at the missing waistcoat, Pip could feel himself preen at Colby’s compliment. Chin up, he pulled back his shoulders, puffing out his chest and shifting his stance to draw attention to the line of the outfit. A peacock display that fell short of actually strutting around with his arse in the air, but not by much. That he struck the pose for the first time in many lonely, doubt-fueled months for Colby’s benefit seemed entirely appropriate.

“My peacock,” Colby said as he moved out from behind the counter. “You know you look good, don’t you?”

Did he? He used to, but now he could only hope he looked fine so as not to embarrass Colby. Pip shrugged and ducked his gaze back to the rail, flicking through the first few items before Colby reached him.

“Looking for something in particular?”

“No,” Pip answered too casually, his grip on the hanger in his hand tight enough to turn his already sallow skin a deathly white.

“Hmm.” One of Colby’s hands settled on Pip’s hip while the other covered Pip’s where he was scrunching up the material, and encouraged him to loosen his grasp. “Don’t suppose you know why my phone’s been ringing off the hook all morning?”

Thrown by the change in direction of the conversation, Pip followed Colby’s lead and returned the garment to the rail. Allowing himself to be manhandled until he faced Colby, he asked, “No. Should I?”

“You tell me. I’ve had all manner of calls, some international, wanting to know if I have certain items in stock, if I have a catalogue, if I plan to offer Internet shopping. Apparently some blogger mentioned my little shop in a post he made over the weekend.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t expected anyone to read the post, let alone act upon it. “Sorry, I should have mentioned that.”

“Any and all publicity gratefully received.”

Colby’s fingers tightened, pressing into Pip’s hip through the moleskin, and his other hand came up to cradle the back of Pip’s head. Surrounded by the heat of Colby’s body and the woodsy scent of his aftershave combined with the familiar smell of old fabric and the lingering trace of coffee, Pip relaxed into Colby’s hold. He lifted his face toward Colby. Like a flower to the sun. Petals unfurling in the warmth. Mentally he gagged and slammed a lid on thoughts that bordered on purple prose. He’d be musing about Colby’s love rod plowing his virgin furrow if he allowed his imagination to follow in that vein. Not that there was anything virginal about
his
flower garden; it had seen more than its fair share of garden hoes.

“Thank you,” Colby whispered against his lips, not giving Pip sufficient time to deny that he’d done anything of consequence or even say you’re welcome before the puff of air became a tender caress.

Pip moaned into Colby’s mouth, letting Colby and the cane take his weight while he buried his free hand into Colby’s thick hair and deepened the kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that all weekend,” Colby confessed breathlessly when they finally pulled away for some much needed oxygen.

A cutting sense of loss accompanied Pip’s sudden shiver as Colby stepped back, putting distance between them.

“You’re creasing my stock.” Colby found Pip’s hand and twined their fingers together. “So,
am
I going to offer Internet shopping, because the post implied that it might be a possibility in the future?”

“It would be easy enough to do and not too much extra work since you take a photo of each item of stock anyway. I could help.”

“I couldn’t afford to pay you. Scratch that. The shop couldn’t afford to pay you.”

Colby started moving toward the back of the shop, dragging Pip with him. Pip went gladly, but he couldn’t deny himself another longing glance at the area where he thought he’d left that bloody waistcoat.

“Here I am giving you the perfect opportunity to ogle my arse, and you’re looking in the opposite direction.”

Whipping his head back around, Pip found Colby watching him with a teasing grin.

“It’s a mighty fine arse, if a little overdressed. Of course, if the packaging fitted a little more snugly, my imagination could run wild. Chinos are too loose.”

“I spend half my life bending over—” Colby paused to allow for the embarrassing noise that escaped out of Pip and then continued, waving a hand at Pip’s trousers with a smile. “I’d end up splitting my clothes or rupturing something if I wore anything that tight.”

These aren’t tight
, Pip wanted to protest, but they were a darn sight tighter than they had been when he’d walked into the shop. Instead he simply raised an eyebrow and traced his finger around the cuff of Colby’s T-shirt where it hugged his bicep so snugly it was even visible beneath his button-up shirt.

Trying to regain the thread of the conversation before he’d been distracted with talk of Colby’s rather curvy and pert behind—the result of many years of squats apparently…. Pip frowned. How easy it was for Colby to distract him simply by standing in front of him. What was he talking about? Ah!

“I wouldn’t want paying. Charity shop, remember?” More of those kisses would be payment enough, but he didn’t want Colby to feel obliged to keep on kissing him simply for services rendered. “Although first choice on any new items that came through the shop would be a perk I could get behind.”

“So, you’re starting your collection up again?”

“I….” Wow, he’d totally forgotten the reason he’d met Colby in the first place. He wasn’t buying that sort of stuff anymore, was he? And while this trip today had at some point morphed into a date—and he wasn’t objecting to that in the slightest—there had been a reason for his visit to the shop. To return the cane Colby had given him. “I don’t—”

“Come on,” Colby said as they rounded the counter. “I’ve got something out the back for you.”

“My crutch?” Damn, he could hear the aggression creeping back into his voice at just the mention of the hideous thing.

The huff of irritation from Colby could hardly be called a sigh. He pushed open the door to the rear of the shop, letting go of Pip’s hand as he waved him through into the space beyond.

“Yep. That’s there, too, if you must have the piece of crap back. In the changing room.”

Shit, how much damage would his insistence on returning the walking stick do to their budding relationship? Colby wasn’t touching him anymore, and that was just at the mention of the crutch.

“I’ll stay here in case anyone comes in the shop.” Colby gestured to the curtained-off area. “Give you some privacy.”

It wouldn’t do for Pip to beg Colby to come with him, to brave the metal monster together. Pip had insisted, and he would have to face the consequences alone. He pulled back the curtain and stepped inside.

The metal crutch had been rested against the back wall in the corner behind a stool, but it barely registered with Pip. Hanging on a hook to the right of the full-length mirror was the bronze and gold waistcoat, yin and yang symbols just as vibrant as they had been the first time he’d seen it.

Was this for him? It certainly wouldn’t hurt to try it on.

Leaning the cane against his thigh, Pip removed his jacket and placed it carefully on the stool. He slipped the waistcoat from the hanger and eased it on until the silk settled on his back like a second skin.

“That’s perfect.”

Pip glanced into the mirror to find Colby’s reflection watching him.

“You look good.” Colby leaned over and plucked Pip’s jacket from the stool. “Here, let me.”

He guided Pip into the jacket, then brushed his hands over the shoulders before running one down Pip’s back. At his lower back, just before the slight swell of Pip’s arse, the pressure increased, and Colby’s touch lingered for a heartbeat before he stepped away.

“I should get back to the shop. Just in case. The whole outfit really suits you.”

Two conflicting items, from different decades, made thousands of miles apart. Yet the gold in the symbols picked out the yellow thread that ran through his olive tweed as if they were destined to go together.