New Lease of Life (21 page)

“Charmed,” Davy murmured. He cast a glance in Pip’s direction, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in an unspoken question, which Pip chose to ignore. Davy’s free hand rested on Colby’s arm, fondling his bicep. Fondling! There really was no other word for it.

“Colby, this is Davy.” Pip introduced them through gritted teeth. “We went to boarding school together.”

“Nice to meet you,” Colby muttered. His tone was perfectly polite, but he stepped back, breaking the handshake and putting distance between himself and Davy’s groping hands. He swayed forward as if he were about to move closer to Pip, glanced between him and Davy again, and then rocked back on his heels.

“You make us sound like acquaintances,” Davy said, his attention still fixed on Colby. He gestured between himself and Pip. “We’re friends too. A least I
thought
we were.” With that, Davy turned a mournful gaze on Pip. He shuttered the hurt expression as their eyes met, but Pip had seen it nevertheless.
Brothers
, it seemed to ask.

Throat suddenly tight with emotion, Pip nodded, and a smile burst on Davy’s face. He looked expectant, as though hoping for more, but Pip was saved from having to answer when Colby spoke.

“I recognize you from photos.” Colby turned all his attention to Pip. His gaze bore through to Pip’s soul. “The posh selfies. And the one of you all at Henley that I love so much.”

Davy practically squealed. “The one in your bedroom? You sly old dog! No wonder you haven’t been around these last few months if you’ve had this hunky beast chained up in your lair.” Davy gasped. “OMG, why were you letting me feel him up?”

“I’d be interested to hear the answer to that,” Colby said, so softly that Pip couldn’t be sure the question had even traveled as far as Davy.

“Davy’s like a brother to me—”

“And you’ve been taught to share your toys?”

Davy laughed at Colby’s comment, but Colby’s expression lacked its normal underlying twinkle of amusement and warmth.

“He’s a good guy,” Pip insisted. Determined to get his point across, he sought out Colby’s gaze. “A bit flighty—”

“I’m standing right here!” Davy interjected, but neither of them broke eye contact to even glance his way.

“—but he isn’t broken.”

“Neither are you, idiot. If you don’t want me, fine, but don’t pimp me out to your friends.”

“I wasn’t. Letting you go now would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I just want you to be happy.”

“That’s my line. And I am happy.” Colby held out his hand but stopped short of actually touching. “How many times do you need to be told?”

Pip winced, suddenly feeling beyond stupid. “Probably might need you to tell me a few more times before I get the message.”

Reaching out, Pip traced his fingers over the palm of Colby’s hand, unable to take that last step until Colby put him out of his misery and caught Pip’s hand, twining their fingers together.

“Idiot,” Colby huffed, stepping in to stand by Pip’s side.

“Henley’s coming up again soon. You are coming this year?” Davy asked, a faint hint of confusion that colored his voice the only indication that he’d borne witness to the scene. “It wouldn’t be the same without you, Pippin. There is always a place for you in Papa’s hospitality tent. Both of you,” he added, with a quick glance toward Colby. “If you’re ready for the guys to meet your boyfriend.”

Before Pip had a chance to respond, Davy continued. “It’s an open invite. You know how disappointed some of your casuals will be that you’re taken, but I’m sure Colby can more than handle himself against the catty remarks. With pecs like that, he can handle anything.”

“I’m sure I can,” Colby said. He slipped his arm around Pip’s waist, and Pip went willingly as he was pulled back into the solid bulk of Colby’s torso. Colby’s breath drifted, moist and warm, over the skin of Pip’s neck, and then he muttered in Pip’s ear, “I’m not wearing a straw boater, though. Not even for you.”

“We’ll see,” Pip answered in response to Colby’s challenge, but Davy nodded, seemingly satisfied with that as an answer to his invitation. “Henley’s almost two months away.”

There was a question in there if someone knew where to look for it.

Colby obviously did. “You’re stuck with me, remember.”

“We’ll be there, suitably attired. And as for the guys hoping for a casual hookup—” Pip glanced up at Colby, his head finding a natural hollow to nestle in on Colby’s shoulder. “—you can let them know I’m taken. And so is my boyfriend.”

AFTER PROMISES
to keep in touch, they watched Davy scamper off down the path toward the tube station.

“He must do squats.”

“Hmm,” Pip agreed. “Even Michelangelo’s David is jealous of that arse. Interested? Because he would have let you fuck him right here in the park from the way he was salivating over you.”

“Only from a professional perspective. And it’s every gay man’s right to ogle gravity-defying butts when they are presented in such a tight package. Nothing to dent your fragile self-confidence. Not even a dink. I was wondering, though—”

“I’m sorry,” Pip said, before he had a chance to talk himself out of it. Colby had the unerring ability to read Pip like a book. It was unnerving really, since they had known each other less than a week. What would it be like after a year? A decade? Was he really thinking that far in advance when normally he would use a lull in conversation to plan how to get rid of someone immediately after the cum shot? “For trying to push you away.”

“I’ll forgive you this time. But only
I
get to decide if you’re not good enough for me, and that won’t be before we even get started.” Colby squeezed Pip around his middle and, with his free hand, gestured out to the smattering of people wandering through the park, most of them completely ignoring the two men standing on the grass locked in an embrace. Some more obviously than others, but at least no one saw fit to vent on the subject. “Once they see past the muscles and the fact that we’re both men, chances are most people looking at us together are wondering what that piece of posh totty is doing with the ordinary-looking bloke from the charity shop.”

How had he ever thought that about Colby? “There’s nothing ordinary about you or your charity shop.” Pushing up on his tiptoes, Pip lifted his head slightly and brushed a kiss over Colby’s cheek. “So what were you going to ask me? Something about Davy? I’m so sorry about him, by the way. He’s a tad exuberant.”

Colby snorted. “Apparently. Chained up in your bedroom?”

“Davy has a very vivid imagination. And possibly some slightly kinky preferences.”

“Any practical experience to back it up?”

“I’ve heard the odd rumor about membership of certain clubs. He tends to run off at the mouth when he’s drunk, but otherwise he keeps mum. Back when we shared a room in uni, I walked in on him in the shower, and he had some interesting marks—”

“Too much information. I meant does he have any practical experience with you? That sounds bad. What I mean—”

“Is he an old boyfriend? No. Putting aside the kinky sex, he’s too high maintenance.”

Colby threw back his head and laughed, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

“Excuse me!” Pip nipped at Colby’s neck where a tempting expanse of skin had been exposed by Colby’s sudden movement. “But no, can you imagine both of us trying to get ready in the morning? I’m not—wasn’t—so bothered with the whole”—Pip waved his hand in a circular motion about his face—“grooming thing as long as my hair looked good and I’d shaved. But mirrors and wardrobe space, outfits that complemented each other. It would never have worked.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“The ex-boyfriend thing. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about Davy wanting you back.”

“Now who’s being insecure?” Pip glanced around, decided the only person in the vicinity—an old dear who had just taken a seat on a nearby bench—didn’t pose too much of a risk, and turned in the circle of Colby’s arms, ready to confess that, while Davy might be his oldest friend, their relationship didn’t hold a candle to the way he was starting to feel about Colby.

“Not me.” Colby grinned. “It’s just handy to know that at least one person won’t be trying to get in my boyfriend’s pants while I’m defending his honor on the riverbank.”

“I’m quite capable of defending my own honor, thank you very much.”

“Aw, come on. Let me play.” Colby flexed his biceps. “I’ve got big guns. Might as well use them for a bit of intimidation.”

Pip scoffed, his lips turning up into an easy smile. His Colby didn’t have the personality to back up the threat his muscles promised.

“Oi!” Colby rolled his hips, brushing their groins together in an exquisite tease. “I’ve got a big sword too.”

Broad shoulders, impressive muscles, arse dimples, and a huge dick. God, even without the endearing personality and drop-dead gorgeous smile, Pip was so done for. What he wanted to do right now certainly couldn’t be classed as appropriate for a private garden, let alone a public park.

“Just so we’re clear. You’re intimidating nobody with that sword except me.”

“DARLING, YOU
look divine.”

Not bothering to stand, Pip’s mother presented her cheek. He leaned in close, but the press of his lips never made contact with her skin, just as he’d always been taught. Had she been standing he would have chanced a brief hug and risked the lingering aroma of Chanel No 5 on his clothes.

“I’m so pleased you obviously gave up on that ridiculous notion of giving all your worldly goods to charity.”

Pip waved away the attentions of the waiter and pulled out the chair opposite his mother. “Not all my worldly goods, Mother,” Pip said with a sigh as he sat. “Just my clothes.”

And wasn’t he regretting that decision right about now? He balanced his cane against the table, the pristine white cloth wedged slightly under the handle to stop any harm befalling his prized possession. Of course, if he hadn’t given away all his clothes, he wouldn’t have met Colby.

“Well, I am pleased you changed your mind. And making new purchases as well, if I’m not mistaken.”

“It was a present from a friend,” Pip said, caressing the handle of his walking stick.

“Actually, I was referring to that rather striking waistcoat. I’ve not seen it before.”

“Oh, yes. That was from him too. At least, I suppose it was.” Good God, Colby was running a charity shop, and Pip just waltzed off with his stock without offering a penny for it. He’d have to put that right. “He never charged me for it.”

His mother’s sharp gaze met his over the top of her menu. She closed the leather book and laid it carefully to the left of her plate. “You’re dating a—” Her eyes closed for barely a moment, and Pip could all but visualize her shudder. “—shop boy.”

He should have known his mother would have something to say on the matter. Why had he even brought it up? Because, regardless of time, place, or appropriateness, Colby was never far from his thoughts.

“Not a shop boy.” Pip put as much disdain into his voice as he could when he echoed those words back to his mother. “Colby
owns
an independent charity shop specializing in vintage clothing and accessories.”

He left out the part about Colby’s lowly start in life and him being a millionaire. He didn’t know which fact would have more sway with his mother, probably the former—as a horse breeder she would proclaim it was all about the lineage—and to be honest, neither fact had any bearing on Pip’s feelings for the kind, gorgeous man that had hijacked his life.

“Would it matter if he were a shop boy?” Pip questioned, more abruptly than he’d intended.

So much for building bridges with the people who cared. He rubbed his fingers over the throbbing point just above his left eye. His other hand found the handle of the cane. For one fleeting second, he considered launching the stick across the restaurant, as he might have done less than a fortnight ago. Instead he traced the pattern carved into the scrimshaw and let out all his frustrations in one steadying breath.

“My darling boy.” And this time her words were soft and sweet, not the drawn out vowels that had constituted her greeting, and she placed her hand over Pip’s. “I wouldn’t care if he was a binman. Not if he is the one responsible for putting the smile back on your beautiful face.”

“Really?” Pip’s word came out more breathy than he intended, and he shook his head at his own ridiculousness. A grown man almost moved to tears from the briefest of touches from his mother.

“Really.”

She slid her hand from his and picked up the menu again, even though Pip knew full well she would order a Caesar salad. Pip barely had time to place a hand on his own menu when she spoke again.

“Well, maybe not a binman. They must smell terrible. But a shop boy would be perfectly acceptable.” She nodded to herself, as if somehow pleased with either this pronouncement or the one to come. “Pip, darling, if you’d be a dear and call the waiter, I’ll have a Caesar salad. Now I must tell you about the gelding I bought from the Smythe-Hendersons last month. The vet believes it could be a rig, so there is a chance we could breed it….”

Resigning himself to a lunch discussing horses’ testicles, Pip signaled the waiter and pondered his luncheon choices now that the ragout of sweetbreads no longer held any appeal.

STANDING IN
his dressing room, Pip slipped his new waistcoat off his shoulders and arranged it carefully on a hanger. Lunch with his mother had been interesting, to say the least. And she was right about his plans for the dressing room. Unless he planned to sell up, neither of the options would benefit him as much as his huge walk-in wardrobe. He’d have to phone the plumber and carpenter. Apologize but explain that he had changed his mind; the wardrobes were staying. Even if they were all but empty.

Of course, thoughts of his clothes always brought him back to Colby. Before Pip had left the shop yesterday, they’d made plans for Friday evening. A date designed to expand Pip’s horizons by watching some superhero blockbuster at the multiplex.