Page 35 of Sparring Partners
“What the fuck am I doing?” he roared into the steam filled cubicle.
He fumbled for the lever on the shower and wrenched it to one side, gasping as the water turned icy.
Luca had been a mistake. A glorious, fucking, beautiful mistake. And one he wanted to make all over again.
* * *
Trade, as ever, was brisk in the weekly farmers’ market. Adrian eyed his stall. By this rate, he’d be sold out by midday. Just like most weeks. He was supposed to man it until the market finished at 2.00pm, as the po-faced market superintendent never failed to tell him — which Adrian never took any notice of. His stomach rumbled. He’d spent too long in the shower, washing the sweat from his body and Luca from his mind, one more successful than the other. Breakfast had been a casualty. The plan, when he’d arrived, to dash into Harbour Coffee and grab a drink and sandwich had been scuppered as a number of early bird customers had claimed his attention, making him forget about his growling stomach.
“Morning.” Joss was the next in the queue, his smile as bright as ever. “How’s Spud?”
“So much better, thanks to you and Oliver. I was really worried that he… well, you know.”
“I do know.” Joss leant over and gave Adrian’s forearm a small squeeze. “But there’s no need to fret. Yes, he’s old, but he’s basically healthy. If that’s what Oliver says, you can rest easy. He was a top vet in London, you know.” Joss swelled with pride. Like so many, Oliver had decamped from the city for a new life in the village and was one of Love’s Harbour’s most respected residents.
“He’s pretty perky.” Adrian felt the heat in his cheeks, at the memory of Spud disturbing his morning?—
“…meeting this evening, then we’re having drinks in the pub for Oliver’s birthday.”
Joss smiled up at him, the gleam in his eyes showing he was waiting for an answer. Joss chuckled.
“Don’t know where you were for a minute, but it wasn’t the market. There’s a festival meeting later. It’ll only be a short check-in one, as Eva and my nan have it all under control. Honestly, they could organise the whole thing themselves, everybody else is pretty much surplus to requirements. You’ll come over for drinks after, won’t you?” Joss leant in, and lowered his voice. “Nan offered to bake a cake.” Joss grimaced. “I had to try and divert that disaster, and said I’d ordered one from Beryl’s Baps ’n’ Buns. Once I’d said that, I didn’t have much choice. But you can’t have a birthday and no cake, can you? So you will stay?”
The committee, which he really needed to excuse himself from. The committee, where Luca would be.
“I’ll be busy, with the farm?—”
“At 7.30pm?” Joss looked dubious, and Adrian felt a shot of embarrassment as though Joss could see the reason for his puny excuse. “Honestly, it’s just a check-in, quick as you like to make more time for cake and ale!”
Joss’ expression was so hopeful, saying no would be like kicking an over eager puppy.
“Sure. But just for one.” It’d be the ideal time to tell Eva he’d be bowing out.
He sold out of everything on the strike of noon. Packing away, and ignoring the market superintendent’s glare, he climbed into the front of his van. Instead of switching on the ignition, he slumped against the steering wheel as all the thoughts he’d kept at bay when he’d been busy came tumbling down. Why had he let Joss talk him into going this evening? Luca would be there, Luca who he’d not yet called to cancel their date…
A date he wanted to keep… was afraid to keep…
Fucking hell.
His breath stumbled in his throat. Christ, but the man had made him see stars when for so long all he’d stared into had been a dark, lifeless sky. But it was more than the intense physical attraction. It was something altogether more dangerous. Luca switched on a light inside him. With a shaking hand he started up the engine, unsure if he could, or even wanted, to flick it off.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
So much for stepping down. Adrian suppressed a groan. He’d not only retained the biggest veg in show contest, but was now the senior judge of the — what was it? The pet agility test? The cuddliest pet in show? The fluffiest moggy? He had no bloody idea because he’d not been concentrating. How could he, when Luca was sitting opposite him in after hours Harbour Coffee, their gazes landing on each other’s, before flitting away like nervous butterflies.
“So, I think that’s everything.” Eva beamed at the attendees, and Adrian got ready to push himself up to standing, just as the woman sitting next to Eva, and just as elderly, put down her knitting, leant in, and whispered something to her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Doreen my love. Don’t know how we missed this. Before you all rush off, I’ve another, and very important, agenda item.”
Adrian slumped back into his chair.
“As part of the grand raffle and in the spirit of The New House offering spa day vouchers, Doreen, of our very own Hair by Doreen mobile styling services, is generously donating three vouchers for a cut, colour, and blow dry. Note that down, Joss. The good ladies — and gents — of Love’s Harbour will be fighting over these.” Eva patted her piled high, backcombed hair, today the colour of an over ripe tomato, as next to her Doreen preened, her own tightly permed mop the yellow of burnt scrambled egg.
“Three vouchers?Three?Are you sure, Nan?” Joss stared at Doreen, stricken faced, as his fingers hovered over the keyboard.
“I can offer a couple more if you think?—”
“Er, no Nan. I think three is, erm, enough. Really, more than enough.”
