Page 31 of Animal Instincts
“Thanks for the lend of the clothes — everything I was wearing was soaked.”
Everything…? Oliver’s throat tightened.
“I’ve hung them over the radiator, for now.”
Joss looked — adorable. The clothes swallowed him up, making Oliver think of a kid playing dress up. Adorable, it was the perfect word, but a kid? No, Joss wasn’t a kid.
He noticed Joss, he noticed him in a way he’d not noticed another man in far too long. Joss’ presence was a shiver down Oliver’s backbone, a dryness in his mouth, a tightening of his stomach muscles, heat in his groin stirring life he’d thought was all but extinct. But it was so much more, because Joss was making him feel something Oliver might just be able to call alive.
No, Joss wasn’t a kid at all.
Oliver gulped. Perhaps it was best if they ate at the table, keeping themselves to the kitchen that was the only part of the house Joss had so far been admitted to. It was what they knew, the boundary they were both used to.
“I thought we could take it through to the living room? Only if you want?” Oliver added quickly when Joss’ eyes opened wider in surprise.So much for boundaries.“Although I suppose eating at the table will be easier than trays on our laps.”
“I like a tray on my lap.”
Oliver removed the food from the oven and divided it up. Joss snagged a chip from one of the plates and popped it in his mouth, leaving a slight smear of grease on his lips. The tip of his tongue swept all trace away.
Breath caught in Oliver’s throat, threatening to choke him as his dick, already half awake, pulsed hard.
This is not a good idea… I should be keeping my distance…
“All right. You get the cutlery and I’ll take the plates through.” Oliver said, moving forward when he should be staying right where he was.
NINETEEN
Joss looked around as he waited for Oliver to bring the coffee through, and snuggled down into the corner of the sofa. He shouldn’t get too comfortable, though. He needed to go home, sneaking up to his room after checking on Bingo, keeping out of the way of his gran and her cronies.
He snuggled in deeper.
It was a lovely room, as the fire crackled away in the hearth. Not the real thing, but an expensive gas fired version. Who wanted to clear out ash from a grate each morning? The wooden floor was covered in a dark rug, flecked with brighter colours, as though they were peeping out wondering whether to emerge and display their brightness. A bit like Oliver himself. Joss smiled.
Somewhere in the house a phone rang, followed by the rumble of Oliver’s voice. Joss tilted his head and listened, but it didn’t sound like a business call, no pet in distress, not when Oliver laughed. Joss wished Oliver would laugh more often.
Joss hadn’t given the room much more than a cursory glance before, too hungry to give it the notice it deserved. But, with his hunger sated, he took his time to take it in properly, on the lookout for more clues to who Oliver was.
His gaze settled on the wall surrounding the large sash windows. Shelving, from the floor almost to the ceiling. Intrigued, Joss pushed himself up and padded across.
Books on veterinary science, lots of them, as well as on a range of non-animal scientific subjects. Science books gave way to biographies. Mostly of musicians, some Joss had heard of, others not. And… Joss leant forward, taking a closer look.
Music scores, books on the guitar, dozens and dozens of them. Joss’ brow crinkled in thought.Shit hot guitarist…Ryan’s words came back to him, and so did his friend’s encouragement to persuade Oliver to perform for the open mic night in The Fisherman’s Arms.
“Oh.”
Basic Cookery for The Complete Beginner.
Pristine and untouched, wedged amongst the music books and as out of place as a lamb chop at a vegan buffet. Joss ran his finger down the spine, as smooth and glossy as the day it was bought.
Microwave dinners for one…But not now, not anymore, not when he arranged Oliver’s grocery shop, but it didn’t stop the small twinge of sadness in Joss’ chest.
Joss continued his inspection of Oliver’s book collection.
“That’s more like it,” he muttered.
Fiction. Some hardback, but mostly battered paperbacks, their spines broken. Books for reading, not for decoration.
Historical whodunnits, popular thrillers, and — Joss grinned.All Creatures Great and Small, the classic book chronicling the adventures of a country vet, its spine more broken than all the other books put together. Gran had read it to him when he was a kid, and Joss pulled it from the shelf without thinking.
