Page 57 of Sparring Partners
“Only lettuce? I’m a man who demands the finest of fine herbs.”
Adrian narrowed his eyes. A flush was creeping up Luca’s face as his top teeth clamped down on his plump, red lower lip. Adrian took another step forward. “Fine herbs? You’re very demanding?—”
Both jumped back as the tent flap flew open and Joss strode in.
“What’s the hold up? We need a decision. All the contestants are over at the cider tent and they’re growing restive. If we don’t announce the winner and the runners up soon, there’ll be a riot. And, the photographer for the newsletter is outside, complaining he’s got to get over to the guess the weight of the piglet booth to photograph Scratchings with the winner. Although why anybody would want their photo taken with the little sod is beyond me, especially as he shat over almost everybody who picked him up. I swear to god he was smiling every time he did it.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Joss swung his head from side to side, the strain of being an official festival organiser clear in every frown line, his now drooping badge, and a clipboard holding a thick wedge of dog eared papers.
“We were just debating the merits of each entrant,” Luca said, his voice steady and calm. “Weren’t we, Adrian?”
“Hmm.”
Joss narrowed his eyes, his gaze flitting between the two of them. “Yeah, well. Okay.” He looked along the rows of trestle tables. “Pick any one. It doesn’t matter which one wins. And the runners up. But I need you outside in two minutes. Oh, and you both might want to come out looking a bit less flustered, if you see what I mean,” Joss threw over his shoulder as he pushed his way out of the tent.
“Well, that told us.” Adrian thrust his fingers through his hair.
“Sweet little puppy dog Joss is really a pit bull in disguise. Let’s get this over with.”
Outside the tent, Luca made the announcements with fulsome comments about each and every winning entrant before he and Adrian posed with the winners for the photographer. They made their getaway as soon as they could, leaving the proud, tired and emotional giant veg champions to bask in glory.
“I’ve got to get back to the hotel soon, but do you want to take a walk around first?” Luca nodded to the crowds thronging the field on the village’s edge. “Eva told me it’s the best turn out they’ve had in years. Oh, and before I forget, we’ve been invited by Alex and Ryan for drinks later, at their place. I think it’ll be nice.”
“We’vebeen invited?”
“They wouldn’t invite me without my boyfriend, would they?”
The smile on Adrian’s lips was as big as the smile in his heart. He linked his fingers with Luca’s as they made their way through the jostling crowds. Many greeted them, smiling or waving, but nobody raised a brow or looked twice as they stopped, hand in hand, at one stall after another.
At the cider tent, they found space at one of the long tables outside.
“Jesus,” Luca rasped after taking a sip of Adrian’s local scrumpy. “That’s enough to take the skin off the roof of my mouth.”
Adrian laughed. “It’s an acquired taste and meant for rough farmers, not refined hoteliers. Try this instead.” He pushed the glass filled with pale gold liquid towards Luca, holding back a grin when Luca sniffed it suspiciously.
“Oh. My. God.” Luca’s eyes widened after his first, tentative taste. “This is magnificent. It’s almost like champagne. I’ve got to stock this in the hotel. Why didn’t I know about this before?” Taking another sip, and humming his appreciation, Luca looked around at the various and varied stalls and tents, each one hosting a local eatery showcasing their wares. Adrian followed his gaze. All were doing good business.
“Jonathan was right about the food festival angle. It elevates the whole event. Makes it more than just another village fête. It’s good business sense.”
Adrian stiffened. Jonathan was the last person he wanted to hear about.
“You’re glowering. Stop it. Okay?”
“Yes, okay.”
Stupid…Luca had made his choice, and made it loud and clear. He knew that, of course he did, and it wasn’t Jonathan’s fault he reminded him too much, and in too many ways, of somebody who was long gone and would never return. But, the man still felt like a cloud in a blue sky. Far off and distant, maybe, but a cloud was still a cloud.
“Good. Look, I have to go. I said I’d be back for lunch service and I’m already late. Come to the cottage for seven o’clock, and we’ll go to Alex and Ryan’s together. Stay the night? No need to creep off early, you can even stay for breakfast. Like Harry said, we’re yesterday’s news, and good only for wrapping chips.”
Adrian laughed, the tension that had crept through his muscles relaxing and draining away. They were old news, and that was good.
With a light, soft kiss nobody around them took any notice of, Luca left. Adrian watched him make his way through the crowds, quickly disappearing. Gulping back the last of his drink, he pushed himself to standing, refusing to think of clouds on the horizon.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
The sun was just starting to sink, bathing the patio of the jaw dropingly beautiful barn conversion in soft light. Summer had turned to autumn, but the first breath of winter, lying in quiet wait, would soon be felt.
“Top up?” Alex held the bottle aloft. It was an unoaked Chardonnay, Adrian had recognised, very good and no doubt wildly expensive.
