Page 66 of Animal Instincts
What a fool he’d been, on Friday. He’d let the words of an arrogant know it all, and his own insecurities, bring a cold blast to a life that was warmer, richer, and so much more vibrant than it’d ever been.
Joss wanted to be here, with him, in Love’s Harbour. Maybe he hadn’t wanted that just a few months before but like Joss himself had said, how he’d wanted his ambitions to play out had changed.
Oliver had never met anybody as open and honest as Joss, so why had he let doubt creep in where there was no doubt? But that was exactly what he’d done, and he’d distanced himself from Joss, questioned him, and had ended up spending a night alone in a bed that had been too cold and way too empty.
“Fucking idiot,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head hard. But that was about to change.
Joss was coming straight round, after work. They’d only been apart for three days, but it had felt like three months. Oliver drew in a deep breath; he’d had time to think, on the long journey home. He was going to ask Joss to come and work with him on a permanent basis. Oliver smiled to himself. But that wasn’t all. It wasn’t only Joss’ working arrangements he wanted to make permanent. His smile turned into a grin, as excitement danced in his belly. Oliver sucked in a deep breath.
Not yet, not tonight; he wanted to make it special, make an occasion of it. Over good food and wine, maybe under the stars up at Starry Point… Was it too soon? He neither knew nor cared. Oliver’s grin stretched wider. He could imagine James’ reaction…
So much for living under a stone.
Oliver glanced up at the wall clock. There was just under an hour to go before Joss arrived. Time to clear up and prep for tomorrow, before a quick shower. Then dinner, just the two of them together in the kitchen, and then bed… Friday and the chill it had brought would be wiped away.
Oliver finished up in the practice, and was ready to head into the house when the bell rang. He groaned.Not an emergency, please, not now…
The bell rang again, longer, more insistent, and Oliver called he was coming, ready to deal with whatever lay waiting for him as he flung the door open.
“What’s—?”
Oliver stared, his brain unable to understand what — or who — he was seeing. His world shrank and contracted, everything else pushed aside except for the two people who stood on his doorstep.
“Oliver? I know this must be unexpected, but—”
The smooth as chocolate voice broke the spell that had held him speechless.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I, or rather we, thought…”
Spencer, who’d turned his life upside down, glanced at the man who stood next to him.
“As Spencer says, our being here in unexpected, probably the last thing you imagined happening, but…May we?” Donald nodded beyond the threshold Oliver was guarding. “We’ve been in this part of the world for a few days, and we both agreed it was time to come and see you.”
Oliver blinked hard at the two men he’d left behind in London and never, ever wanted to see again, before he barked out a hard, rough laugh.
“You must be joking. I don’t want anything to do with either of you. Why the fuck are you here?” His voice rose to almost a shout, and a couple walking a dog glanced his way with more than a flicker of interest.
Christ… He didn’t want these two within a hundred miles of him, but even more he didn’t want his business broadcast around the village.
“You’ve got five minutes, that’s all, before you piss off for good.” Oliver stood aside, allowing Spencer and Donald in, before slamming the door closed behind them.
Oliver squeezed his hands into hard, tight fists to stop them from shaking. A bead of sweat trickled down his back, and his skin flushed hot and cold.
“What do you want?” Oliver forced the words through stiff, dry lips.
“Oliver.” Donald made to step forward, but stopped as Oliver glared at him. “I, or we, understand us turning up unannounced is a shock, but we couldn’t come to the West Country without making some attempt to build bridges. We want to try and mend what’s broken—”
“Broken?” Oliver spluttered. “I think reduced to a pile of rubble and dust, is more like it. I’m not interested in buildingbridges.” Oliver spat the word out, gratified at the flinch in Donald’s eyes.
Now the first flush of shock was receding, Oliver took in fully his former friend and business partner.
How could someone change so much in just months?
Although the same age as Oliver, Donald looked ten years older. His formerly fine physique was no longer quite so fine. He’d gained some weight around the middle which his contrived casual clothes couldn’t conceal. But it wasn’t the few extra pounds that made the real difference, it was the increased number of lines around his eyes and mouth, the strain etched into the deep furrows in his forehead, and the dull shadows in his eyes. The careworn man who stood before him wasn’t the Donald Oliver had known for so many years.
What’s the problem, Donald? Has Spencer been sucking you dry in all the wrong ways? Are you wondering where he goes and what he’s doing when he’s out withfriends? Do you fear history might repeat itself?
