Page 41 of Hearts Colliding
Jesus, what the hell was he doing? It was utter madness, an additional complication he didn’t want. He should grab hold of Henry and get out as fast as he could. He’d send Ryan a text. Say it was a mistake. That they should forget about everything that had happened. Thank you and goodbye.
The restaurant door opened, and Ryan stood on the threshold, his face lit up in a smile, as a voice whispered in Alex’s ear that it was all too late.
“Sorry, I had a bit of last minute trouble getting away, but that’s the pub business for you. Hello, who’s this?” Ryan reached down to pet an excited Henry. “If I’d have known this was a dog friendly place, I’d have brought Tina. What a gorgeous boy you are. Let me give that tummy a tickle.”
“I should have thought and let you know I was bringing him. He was making such a fuss when I was getting ready, crying and clawing at me, I couldn’t just leave him. I also felt guilty about not taking him to the, erm, beach.” Heat throbbed in his face as Ryan sat up, and grinned at him across the table.
“Maybe that was just as well. I can just imagine Henry wanting to get in on the act and threesomes, let alone illegal ones, aren’t my thing.”
Alex blinked. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was saved by the waitress, who came and took Ryan’s drink order. Like Alex, he was sticking to mineral water. Perhaps he should have asked Ryan to come to the house, and he’d have driven them. Or they could have got a cab — but not from the village. Or maybe—
“Turn it off, Alex.”
“What?”
“You’re thinking too loud.”
Ryan was sitting back in his seat, nursing his drink. Two leather-bound menus sat on the table. Alex hadn’t noticed the waitress come back. Ryan put his drink down and leaned forward, and Alex caught the tangy, mineral aroma reminiscent of the sea. Images of the beach flashed in front of his eyes. The beach, and Ryan smiling up at him, his eyes dark and his skin dripping wet from the ocean, before his lips parted ready to meet his own. Alex’s stomach muscles tightened, and his dick pulsed in its denim prison.
“You’re edgy and nervous. And over thinking. If you grip your glass any tighter, it’ll crack.”
“Of course I’m edgy. Aren’t you?” Alex blurted.
“Me? I’m fucking terrified.” With his free hand, Ryan rubbed at the back of his neck.
Alex sagged as all the tension melted out of him, Ryan’s own admission calming the rapid beat of his heart and loosening the death grip on the muscles in his neck and shoulders. And on his glass.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this, should we?” Ryan said.
“No, it’s crazy. Just thinking about the, ah, complications, gives me a migraine.”
“Perhaps we should finish our drinks and go? Forget anything ever happened and put it down to the heat of the moment?”
“We made the arrangement three days ago,” Alex said. “I hardly call that heat of the moment, would you?”
Should they step forward or fall back? The answer was obvious, no choice, no debate. Whatever they’d allowed to happen, it should stop. Here and now. But as he forced his hands into fists on the linen covered table to stop their shaking, as he pushed himself to hold Ryan’s hard gaze, Alex didn’t care about what he should and shouldn’t do, he cared only for what he wanted.
“Shall we order, or…?” Ryan raised a questioning brow.
“Yes, I think we should.”
* * *
Alex slumped back in his seat. He’d tried, but there was no way he could finish the heavy, rich dessert. Ryan grinned, as with one hand he pulled the plate across and finished up every last crumb whilst feeding Henry morsels of treats from a dish the waitress had brought over with the other. Both men, Alex thought, two legged and four, looked very pleased with their lot.
“It’s strange,” Ryan said, stroking Henry as he looked around. “This place is only about twenty miles from the Harbour, but I’ve never been here before. Lives up to its reputation, though, but I doubt they do a pie night.”
The De Lacy Arms, an award winning gastro pub, and too far from Love’s Harbour for a casual drop in. Alex leaned forward. “You hit the nail on the head, with twenty miles. Less likelihood of being stumbled upon. We’d make headlines in the village newsletter.” Alex laughed and Ryan joined in, but there was a strained quality which only got worse when they fell into silence. Why the hell did he have to go and try and make a joke of it?
“Yeah, you’re right, though. God alone knows what some of them would say if they knew we, were, erm—”
“Colluding? Fraternising?”
Ryan huffed. “And some. Christ, if this got out… We need to talk about what we’re doing—”
“Having lunch?”
“And some, like I said. We should have ground rules.”
