Page 45 of Between the Lines

His thoughts, since last night, had been exclusively of Luca—which he needed to hide from his father at all costs. “I, uh... Actually, Luca invited me as his guest to Finn Callaghan’s wedding yesterday, and it got me thinking about possibilities.” He ran through the ideas he’d had about hosting weddings, even specializing in same-sex weddings, waxed lyrical about the dining room, about how they might recreate the same atmosphere with a few tweaks to the new-build, adding in some new ideas about connecting with the Surf Hut, offering surfing lessons and locally produced food, helping to tie the hotel closer to the community.

As was his way, his father listened without comment. He fished out a cigar and slipped the case back into his jacket pocket, waiting for Theo to drift to a halt. Into the subsequent silence, as the car wended its way around the headland and into the town, he said, “That bloke in the shorts? He’s the one you’re shagging?”

Theo snapped a look at the driver. “Christ, Dad.”

“Well?”

His face burned. “That’s got nothing to do with—”

“Of course it bloody does.” His father snipped off the end of his cigar and sent the top rolling into the foot well. “You want to know why I’m here, Theodore? It’s because I had Don Brennan on the blower last night, bending my ear about you holding hands with his stepson instead of buying the sodding hotel from his wife.”

Theo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Don called you?” He’d thought they were on the same side.

“Hewantsto sell.” His father jammed the unlit cigar between his teeth.

“I know. But Don Brennan doesn’t own the Majestic, Jude does. And she—She wants Luca’s approval.”

“Yeah? And how’s that going?” He cocked his head, jaw clenched around the cigar in an expression Theo recognized well. “Any progress? Or are you being nicely distracted?”

“I’m not distracted.” But a flicker of memory made him shiver, that astonishing moment of connection he’d shared with Luca, and he couldn’t hide it from his father.

“Christ, I bloody knew it.” Eddie reached for his lighter and flicked it open.

“I’m not!” But Theo’s protest sounded panicked and he dug his fingernails into his palms to help check his anger. “Luca’s showing me around, that’s all. It was Jude’s suggestion.”

“I bet it was.” He had the filthy cigar lit now, blowing smoke into the car. “Fuck’s sake, Theodore. Even Don Brennan can see what he’s doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s sidetracking you.”

“No.” His heart lurched. “That’s not what it is. Me and Luca have a...an understanding. He knows I’m here to persuade Jude to sell.”

“Which you’re not bloody doing, are you?” His father blew smoke, making Theo cough.

“Jude wanted me to get to know the area first, and Luca—”

“Bugger Luca! And I don’t mean literally. Christ, Theo, you just spent ten minutes telling me to transform the Majestic into the gayest fucking hipster hotel on the East Coast, when you know we’re building a bloody golf resort. Agolf resort. Full of filthy rich fuckers who wouldn’t fly a pride flag even if you shoved it up their fat arses.” He sighed, frustrated. “Can’t you see what he’s doing? I mean, can you honestly not see it?”

The dull thump in Theo’s chest beat louder. “See what?”

“He’s taking advantage of you, Theo. Of your—” he waved his hand “—issue.”

No. He refused to accept that, refused to believe his friendship with Luca, if that was even the right word, had any hidden agendas. Theo might not be adept at reading people but he wasn’t bloodyblind. After everything they’d shared, the laughter and joy they’d found in each other’s arms, surely he couldn’t be mistaken? He’d felt so close to Luca last night, his heart unfurling as they’d made love in the moonlight, the connection twining them together like tender new shoots on a vine. Even now, he could still feel those gentle bonds tugging at his heart. It had to be real, he couldn’t bear to believe otherwise. “You’re wrong,” he said, a daring assertion. He pushed himself up straighter in the seat. “That’s not what this is. Luca wouldn’t do that.”

“You think I’d be having this conversation with Daly, if I’d sent him out here?”

“Do I think he’d be hooking up with Luca Moretti? No. I don’t. Luca has better taste. But I don’t think Jude would have agreed to the sale, either—she’d have told Daly to piss off on day one. His particular brand of smarm wouldn’t wash here.”

His father regarded him for a long moment. “Here being New Milton.”

“Yes.”

“Because it’s such a special place.”

Irritated, Theo looked out the window. They were crawling along Main Street now, so slow they’d be stopped for soliciting if New Milton had a cop. The driver had evidently been told to kill time. “Jude said she’d give me an answer in two weeks—that’s three days from now. Why don’t we wait until then before you to write me off as a failure?”

“Self-pity doesn’t look good on you, Theodore.”

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