Barging In (24 page)

“I’m not asking that. I’m just saying, the idea of you and this Tristan bloke… I don’t think I can handle it.” Robin’s voice was flat, as if all the fight had leached out of him. The sound of it wound Dan up further.

“Well, it bloody well sounds like an ultimatum to me. Sounds like you’re saying if I can’t stay faithful, then you don’t want anything to do with me. Do you even realise what you’re asking, Robin? I’ve never done a relationship before. I don’t know if I’ve got it in me.” Robin’s silence was unnerving. Dan turned to look at him. The sight of him lying with his eyes screwed shut and his lips clamped tight hurt him more than he could have imagined. “Shit. Look, does it have to be this complicated? Can’t we just be friends? Can’t we chat on the phone and meet up occasionally for mind-blowing sex? Or just to watch a DVD and chat some more, if that’s what you prefer?”

“You’d come all this way just to watch a DVD?” Robin sounded incredulous. Did he really think Dan was only after one thing?

“I’d come all this way to see you.”

“You would?”

There was a softening of Robin’s expression, and Dan’s heart did a stupid bloody somersault. “Yeah, believe it or not, I do like you, even if you are a moody git. I wouldn’t have spent the whole week with you if it was just about the sex, not that it hasn’t been the best I’ve ever had.”

“Now I know you’re lying.”

But there was something in Robin’s expression that led Dan to believe he just wanted convincing. “No lie.” He looked down at the marks Robin had left all over his chest and thighs. He gestured at a particularly livid love bite. “I’m not usually into this kind of thing. Never been turned on by it, but it’s different with you. You’re different. I dunno.” He sighed, flopping down on the bed again and shivering now that the heat of his anger had subsided. “I just want to spend some more time with you, figuring it all out. If it’s gotta be over the phone, I’ll cope, but I’d rather see you in person. What do you say?” He reached out for Robin, absurdly grateful to feel Robin’s arms snaking around him in return.

When Robin’s voice came, it was a whisper. “What about Tristan?”

“What about him? He’s just a friend.”

“Yeah, but you fuck each other.”

“Not very often. Not for ages. We don’t really do it for each other, you know? Better as friends than lovers. I’ll stop it altogether if it bothers you.” And that really wouldn’t be a hardship. He and Tris were only ever a last resort for each other, anyway. “Now, are you going to let me come and see you again? If I’m not going to be doing anyone else and you won’t let me visit, I’m gonna end up with a nasty case of blue balls.”

Robin smiled at last. Only a small one, barely curving his lips, but it was there. “Okay, you can call me. Just…give me some time to think about you visiting.”

It wasn’t the answer Dan wanted, but with the heat of Robin’s body against his own and the scent of him filling his nostrils, it was hard to concentrate. He made a last-ditch effort, as Robin’s cock was growing hard again and he desperately wanted to feel it inside him one last time before leaving.

“I’ll give you time, so long as the answer’s yes.” And then he kissed Robin before he had a chance to respond, trying his hardest to give him something to remember him by.

Something that was more than just bodies moving together. Something to tide them over until they could do this again.

“I’ll call you when I get back home. Let you know I didn’t sink the boat,” Dan said.

Robin tried to smile, but his mouth refused to cooperate. He’d walked Dan back to his boat, then helped out by checking over the weed trap and the engine while Dan tidied inside. It didn’t take Dan long—probably because he’d spent nearly all of his time on
Serendipity
.

And now they were here, standing on the deck while the engine idled. Robin wanted to grab Dan and drag him back to his boat. He wanted to throw his arms around him and sob. He wanted to rage at the world for tearing them apart so soon. And so he stood there, paralysed, gazing at the still water. It had stopped raining sometime during their hurried breakfast, leaving the deck slippery.

“You should wear your life jacket.” It wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but he didn’t want Dan taking any unnecessary risks.

“I don’t think it does me any favours with this outfit, but if it makes you happy.” Dan fastened it up and pulled a face. “God, you’d think they could redesign these things to be a bit more flattering. I look ridiculous.”

“You look safe.”
And you look beautiful, and that look you get in your eyes when you smile makes me want to hold you tight and never let go.
But he couldn’t say any of that, so he just tried to smile and then tried to ignore the prickling in his eyes when Dan hugged him tight.

“Look after yourself, babe. I’ll miss you.”

“Yeah.” It was the only word he could trust himself to say, and it came out harsh and abrupt.

Dan let him go at last, and then Robin turned, stepping onto the bank and untying the mooring lines. He coiled up the last rope down at the stern and looked up to find a reflection of his own feelings written on Dan’s face.

This isn’t fair
, he wanted to say.
Don’t go. Not yet. I don’t want to lose you to the city.

And then a dog barked, and the moment was broken. Dan gave a crooked smile. “I’d better be off, then. Thanks for everything. I mean that.”

Robin nodded. There was a lump in his throat he didn’t think he could speak past. And then Dan walked to the edge of the deck, pressed a last, fleeting kiss to his lips and loosened Robin’s hold on the rail with an apologetic smile.

“See you soon,” Dan said, sounding confident at the prospect.

Robin nodded.

The
Faerie Queen
and the lone figure at the stern blurred hopelessly by the time they reached the stone bridge. Robin waved anyway, just in case Dan looked back one last time before turning the corner. If he did, Robin couldn’t tell.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Robin stared at the ringing phone. If he didn’t pick it up soon, it would go through to voicemail and he could listen later. Or not, if that was what he decided.

But then he really wanted to hear Dan’s voice again, and so he grabbed it and answered without even checking the display.

“I’m here,” Robin said, his heart racing.

“Oh, darling, that’s such a relief!”

When he heard his mother’s tones, Robin’s cheeks flushed. “Listen, Mum, I’m really sorry about yester—”

“Don’t worry about that now. It’s Miranda. She’s gone into labour early. They’re not saying anything to us, but I think she might lose the baby. Little Patrick might be…might be… Oh Christ!”

Surely that wasn’t a sob? But the choked-back sounds continued, and they couldn’t be anything else.

“Hey, Mum, don’t cry. They’ll be doing everything they can for him. Lots of babies get born this early. Dan was six weeks premature, and it hasn’t done him any harm.” Okay, Robin was no expert, but his words seemed to do the trick as she sniffed and the sobs subsided. “Who’s there with you?”

“Your father’s here, but he’ll have to go soon as he’s in theatre first thing tomorrow and needs his sleep. Patrick’s on his way back from Aberdeen, but it’s going to take a few hours.”

Shit, she was going to be left alone there, in this kind of a state. A memory rose, unbidden, of her holding him tight in the days after Jamie’s death. He’d barely been aware of it at the time, and once he’d recovered from the worst, she’d pulled back from being too demonstrative, resuming her usual habits of lecturing him about his life. But she’d been there for him when he’d needed her most.

“Mum, you wait there. I’m on my way.”

“You’re coming here? How are you getting here? The trains are terrible on a Sunday.”

That was the challenge. He thought for a moment, remembering the emptiness of his wallet and the distance to Cheltenham. “I’ll have to get a taxi.” He squashed down his pride. “Mum? I’m completely skint. Would you be able to meet me outside the hospital and pay the driver?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I’m waiting in the maternity-unit foyer. There’s a drop-off point right outside the doors.”

After reassuring her a few more times, Robin hung up and threw some clothes and a wash bag in a rucksack. He tucked his mobile into his pocket and took one last look around the boat, feeling sure that there was something he’d forgotten.

His gaze fell on the bundle of fur curled up on the sofa.

“Sorry, Morris. Looks like you’ll be staying with Auntie Mel for a few days.”

Robin called Mel to make the arrangements while he took one last look over
Serendipity
. He hated to leave her at this time of year when burst pipes were a very real threat, but there was nothing else to be done. He just had to hope that the temperature wouldn’t drop too low and that BW would cut him some slack if he went over his time in this spot. Family came first, after all.

The sense of having forgotten something important continued to niggle as he dropped Morris off with Mel.

Robin was halfway to Cheltenham before he heard his phone give the low-battery warning pips, and remembered what it was he’d left behind. His charger.

And then his phone rang again, and he used up his last bit of power reassuring his mum that he was on his way. He stared at the blank screen, knowing what Dan would think when he didn’t answer.

“Sorry, Dan,” he whispered.

“Fuck you, Robin Hamilton!”

Dan flung his phone across the room. Last night he’d put Robin’s unavailability down to him having drunk himself into oblivion, but there was no excuse for him not to have responded to Dan’s messages by now. Well, he was buggered if he was going to leave another one. He wasn’t going to beg for Robin to call, no matter how much he wanted him to.

He took some deep breaths to calm down. It didn’t get rid of the turmoil in his guts, but at least his hands had stopped shaking.

The doorbell sounded. It was Tris. Dan buzzed him in, glad for the distraction.

“Well, hello, sailor. How the devil are you?” Tris spun Dan around and lavished kisses on his cheeks. The man was a whirlwind of floppy-haired, razor-cheekboned flamboyance. Only today, dressed entirely in black rather than his usual tastefully coordinated colours.

“What happened to your clothes? You look like someone died.”

“Only the old me, darling. Meet Tristan, mark two. Now available in any flavour you want, except vanilla.” Tris raised an eyebrow, cocked his hip and pouted.

Jesus. Dan couldn’t help smiling.

“That’s better. Now what’s the long face all about? Don’t tell me you’re missing your studly boater already? Well I’ve got something to take your mind off him. Remember Brett? The guy with the teeth and the huge tits you were dancing with last time we hit Heaven?”

Dan shook his head, already dazed and confused. Tristan barely paused.

“Oh, you’ll remember when you see him. You really got his hopes up, then ditched him for that hairy Greek god. What was his name? Micky?”

“Mikolas.” Dan remembered him, all right. Hung like a donkey, had a marathon runner’s stamina and barely spoke a word of English. It had been a great night. He still couldn’t quite picture Brett but had a vague impression of oiled muscles, gleaming teeth and bleached hair. Or was that gleaming muscles, bleached teeth and oiled hair?

“Well, Brett’s been asking after you. Seems he’s rather besotted, God knows why—I did try to warn him about what a sleazy old tart you are. Anyway, it’s his birthday, and he specifically asked—no, make that begged—to make sure I bring you. So go get your glad rags on and we’re off.”

“I don’t really feel like a party tonight.”

Tris stared like Dan had just announced he was going to get married and have kids.

“Of course you do. It’s just the ticket if you’re feeling glum. Now come on. I want to see you in your sexiest jeans and a shirt Brett’s going to want to rip off with his teeth. You’ll get to meet Alex too, and if you’re extra-specially nice to me, I might share him with you. Come on, chop, chop!”

Tris bounced into Dan’s bedroom, and he followed with a sigh. There wouldn’t be any peace unless he went along with this. And if the only way to get Robin Hamilton out of his mind was to let some other guy fuck him senseless, then so be it.

By the time they reached the tube station, he’d almost convinced himself he was all right. Buoyed up by Tris’s constant stream of chatter, he felt almost normal. It was only when he saw his reflection in the train window that he realised there was a vertical crease between his eyebrows and his right hand was still plucking at the pocket containing his phone.

“It’s okay, you can put your hand in there to touch him. It’s good for prem babies to get as much skin-to-skin contact as possible.” The ICU nurse smiled at Robin as she checked the monitoring equipment. It was just him keeping vigil in here at the moment, what with Miranda in the ward, his mum visiting her, his dad working and his brother-in-law catching some much-needed sleep. When all the others had been around, Robin hadn’t dared touch the tiny baby in the incubator. It was enough just to watch him, marvelling at the skinny limbs and tiny fingers. There wasn’t much of him visible, as he was bundled up in so many layers of clothing, but the squashed-up face and fragile hands were astonishing by themselves.

“Go on with you. He’ll like it. Might help settle him down a bit.”

Robin looked doubtfully at the ground-in grime in the creases of his knuckles.

“Are you sure my hands are clean enough?”

The nurse gave him a sharp look. “Did you wash your hands and use the sanitiser when you came in? Well then, they’re clean enough. Go on now, you don’t need to fret.”

Patrick Junior was wriggling around all over the place. Robin supposed the weight of his hand might be enough to keep him still for a moment. With trepidation, he pushed his hand through the hole at the side of the incubator.

His nephew was so delicate. So small. Robin could feel the heartbeat fluttering under his hand. The enormity of the task facing Miranda and Pat hit him for the first time. They had to keep this tiny, helpless creature safe and alive and bring him up to be a functioning member of society. He didn’t envy them. No, not one bit. He had enough in his life trying to keep himself sane and healthy, let alone trying to look after someone else.