Isle of Waves (19 page)

Liam was working the bar as normal. The man had a born talent to get out drinks as quickly as possible. He should have been shaking cocktails for a living. He passed over Bel and Maggie’s coffees and added the two beers for Ernie and Stan.

Wig delivered them and came back to Liam. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“I got a text. He’ll be back soon as Jim is there.”

“And?”

“Rose is about the same. No worse, thank goodness.” Liam handed drinks to Karen. “She could still pull through. It’s Rose Owens we’re talking about. Have you ever known a woman as tough as her?”

“I’m beginning to think it’s characteristic of the breed. Look at Bel and Maggie. Older ladies are formidable, and we just don’t appreciate them.”

Liam smirked. “Bet you love them all, don’t you?”

Just then Jolly Shirley waved frantically at him, which set other parts of her wobbling.

“Maybe not all,” Wig murmured. Even he had his limits. “Fuck me, I’m tired.”

Fortunately Ben walked over to help Shirley, and Wig went to help a couple not with the OAP party who had just walked in. They looked bemused at the number of people.

“Um, we want a table for two.” The woman craned her neck as she looked for a spare table.

“I have one right here,” Wig said, showing them to a table in the bay window.

“Will we have to wait long to be served? It looks like you’re busy today.”

“Would you like me to check for you? We could get you some drinks in the meantime.”

Wig handed over the order to Liam and went into the kitchen. He blinked as he watched the team of people working to fulfill all the orders. It was like the old days, and he had to hold back the tears.

Nibs looked up and smiled at him. “Isn’t this great?”

“It’s amazing,” he said. “Really amazing. How long are we taking at the moment? I’ve got a couple not with the party.”

“Twenty minutes for hot food. Fifteen for the lunch bites.”

“I’ll pass it on.” He grinned at Nibs and went back to the couple to relay the message.”

The couple decided to stay and have more drinks while they waited. Wig promised he wouldn’t forget them and topped them up.

Aside from one spilled drink, the whole session went smoothly, and the staff who had been drafted in at short notice begged to come back if the situation arose again.

Wig made no promises. How could he? He had no idea what was happening after the end of the season. He and Nibs hadn’t discussed anything further since the storm, and the Sawars had been conspicuous by their absence. The pole had been removed, and guys in hard hats—yes, Wig had been ogling their tight buns—had been inspecting the building for damage, but they hadn’t heard anything further from Khalil or Ghuram.

By the time the close of day arrived, Wig was thankful to lock the door behind the last customer. His feet ached like a bitch. He leant his forehead against the wood of the doorframe and concentrated on his breathing, just winding down from the stresses of a busy day.

He and Nibs were the only ones in the Lagoon. Wig had sent everyone home, and Liam had gone to the hospital to see Rose and pick up Sam.

Wig poured the last of the coffee into two mugs and wandered into the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, smiling as he watched Nibs’s long, sure strokes as he wiped down the work surfaces. Nibs didn’t seem to notice him as he hummed something tuneless under his breath.

“I know you’re watching me,” Nibs said.

Or perhaps he did.

“I like watching you,” Wig said, coming forward with the coffee and handing one mug to Nibs.

Nibs pulled a face after taking one sip of the coffee. “This has been sitting for a while.”

Wig tried it. “Yeah, but it’s wet and warm.”

“Nice. Make a fresh pot of tea, and we can have it with dinner.”

“What have we got tonight?”

“Salmon.”

“Nice!” For the first time, Wig was conscious that Nibs had been providing healthier dinners for their evening meal for weeks. With all the chaos and turmoil, he hadn’t paid attention to the food they had been eating. “How long have you known about the diabetes?”

Nibs looked away, focusing on the pan holding the salmon. “A few weeks.”

“How many?” Wig pressed.

“Eight, ten, maybe. I suspected. Remember my dad was a diabetic? I’ve been having some of the same symptoms, but I didn’t do anything about it until I was sure, and then I went to visit the doc a few weeks ago.”

“You’ve known you were ill for over two months? What symptoms? When the hell were you going to tell me?”

Nibs sighed. “Get the tea, babe, and we’ll talk, okay?”

Wig chewed on his lip, bitter words waiting to burst out. Then he nodded and stalked into the restaurant to make a pot of tea. He waited impatiently for the kettle to boil, and when it finally did its damn stupid job, he had to hold it steady with both hands as he poured the water, his hands were shaking so hard.

Nibs brought in their plates, and they sat at their table in the corner, out of sight of passersby who might think they were still open for late-night food.

Wig brought over the pot of tea and sat down, silent as he gathered his thoughts. He looked at the meal and shook his head.

“What?” Nibs asked.

“I wonder how long it would have taken me to notice that we didn’t eat chips anymore.”

“We had chips the other night when we got fish and chips on the pier.”

“But you don’t serve us chips. You’ve been making the food more healthy for weeks. Even the menu is changing, and I didn’t notice.” He looked up at Nibs. “God, how blind have I been?”

“Mr. Oblivious as usual,” Nibs joked, but the smile slid off his face as they stared at each other.

“I look at you all the time,” Wig said. “I look at your muscles and your dick; I watch the way your face screws up when you come.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Nibs protested.

“Yes, it does. I look at you, and yet I didn’t see you. Why didn’t I see you were ill?” Wig’s stomach was churning because of how ashamed he felt.

“I’m not dying, Wig. It’s easily controlled. I’m not even on pills yet. I’ve got to watch my diet, so I’m cutting down the carbs and the booze. I’ve even lost weight.” Nibs patted his stomach, and he was right; he had lost weight.

“You have. I didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, and I feel better already. You should try not looking at my dick and screwed-up face. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d worry, and then you’d try to manage me. You’re an old woman when you start worrying.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. Now pour the tea and eat your dinner. I’m not wasting food.”

Wig growled under his breath that he was going to pour the tea over Nibs’s big, fat head, but he did as he was told. The hot drink settled his stomach, and he managed to eat the salmon, which was superb.

Nibs glowed as Wig praised him for the cooking. “I got the recipe from Chrissie.”

“She doesn’t usually share her secrets.”

“I told her why I needed some new recipes, and she was happy to oblige.”

“You told Chrissie, but you didn’t tell me.”

Nibs looked up as he caught the flinty element in Wig’s tone. “Whatever I say it’s going to be wrong, isn’t it?”

Wig ignored the question. “Do you think me so weak that I can’t deal with your shit?”

“You know I don’t think that.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me!”

“Because I’m afraid you’ll think
I’m
the one who’s weak and go and find someone else.”

Wig stared at him. “You think I would leave you because you have an illness? What kind of dick do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re a dick.”

“I don’t know whether to hit you or knee you in the bollocks.”

“Is there a third option? A nonviolent one?”

“No. You deserve the damage.” Wig was ready to explode again, only to be derailed when Nibs leaned over the table and kissed him.

“I was a moron to keep this all to myself, but can you forgive me?”

Wig looked him straight in the eye. “Hide anything like this again, and I’m out of here.”

Nibs stared back at him, his eyes wide with shock. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“But—”

“No buts. I deserve better than lies and half-truths. I’m not about to leave you for a younger bear just because you’re ill, but hide anything like this from me again, and I’ll be out of that door so fast there’ll be a sonic boom.”

Nibs turned his gaze to his plate and his shoulders shook.

“Are you laughing at me?” Wig asked furiously.

Nibs looked up, his eyes glistening in the dim light. “God, I’m an idiot.”

Wig sat back in his chair. “Now, that we can agree on.”

“Want to go and cuddle up on the sofa before the boys get back?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”

“Tell me you love me,” Nibs said as he picked up the two plates.

“I love you, God help me. You’re a moron, but I still love you.”

Nibs beamed at him so brightly it made Wig catch his breath. “Do you think we’ve got time for a quickie before they return?”

“Gonna bend me over the sofa again?” Not that Wig was averse to the idea at all.

“I was thinking about bending you over the table.”

“Here?” Wig almost squeaked.

“No one can see us from the road.”

“They could if they came to the door.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Wig raised an eyebrow at Nibs and took great satisfaction in hearing him swallow thickly.

“You don’t think I’ve got a sense of adventure, Justin Tyler?”

“You going to show me?”

Wig was wearing a pale blue shirt and light gray trousers. He slipped off his shoes—because stripping with shoes on was always a no-no—and reached for the neck of his shirt.

“You’re going to strip here?”

“I thought you said no one could see us from the road.”

“They can’t, but what happens if they come up to the door?”

“Then they’re going to get a show they don’t expect.”

“And what sort of a show is that?”

“Me stripping for you and then your thick cock sliding in and out of my bare, fabulous arse.”

“Modest, aren’tcha?”

“Well?” Wig made as if he was going to slip the button through the hole.

Nibs pushed back his chair and sat back, his hand automatically going to his crotch. “Come on, then.”

The first button, then another, Wig undid his shirt, exposing the pale chest that drove Nibs mad. He smirked a little as Nibs shifted restlessly in the chair. He didn’t take the shirt off, knowing that Nibs loved to fuck him half-dressed.

Wig slowly undid the button of his trousers and then the zip, pushing them down his lean thighs, but he left his tight briefs on, the front distorted by his erection. Oh yeah, he was aroused and happy for his man to see it. He shimmied to get the trousers down his legs and turned to bend over, making sure his butt was in Nibs’s face as he took off his trousers and socks. Socks were a real passion killer in Wig’s eyes.

Nibs was squeezing his dick through his checks, his breathing coming faster as he watched the show Wig was putting on.

Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his briefs, Wig licked his lips. He paused, rubbing and squeezing at his erection, flattening his palm and then cupping the shaft, making sure his man took a long look at him before he pushed his briefs slowly down his legs. He turned and bent over to kick off his briefs, knowing Nibs could see his tight balls and hole, just waiting for him to fill it.

Nibs gave a choked-off cry as Wig sucked on a finger and slid it into his hole, dipping in and out. “Fuck, Wig, I can’t wait any longer.”

Wig had been planning to suck on Nibs’s dick for a while, but he had no objection to going straight for the fucking. He laid himself out like an offering, elbows on the table and looking over his shoulder. “Come on, then.”

“This is going to be the shortest fuck in history,” Nibs muttered as he pressed up behind Wig. From somewhere he produced lube and shoved two thick greasy fingers into Wig’s arse.

Wig took a deep breath, knowing this was going to be a wild ride. Nibs grunted as he pressed in, filling Wig with his big, thick cock. Wig held on to the table for dear life as Nibs hammered into him, shifting his position so that Nibs nailed his gland. His dick was pressed painfully into the table, trapped by Nibs’s powerful weight on top of him, but the pain was a welcome bite to the pleasure.

Nibs’s rhythm faltered and he gave a couple of huge thrusts. Then wet heat filled Wig’s arse. Nibs collapsed heavily over his back.

Wig let him lie there for a moment; then he said, “Oh love of my life?” He received an indistinct mumble in return. Wig tried again. “Much as I enjoy letting you use and abuse me, there is a squashed dick here wanting some relief. If you’re going to go to sleep, at least roll your big, fat weight off me so I can finish myself off…. Oh, you did not just snore.” He waited—surely the git hadn’t fallen asleep on top of him? But another snore proved the inconsiderate bastard had done just that. “When I get you off me, I’m going to tear your arm off and beat you to death with the wet end.” Nibs snuffled lovingly in his ear.

Just peachy. Liam and Sam were going to come home to find him squashed to death by his idiot boyfriend. A stiff with a stiffie. Wig groaned. Life hated him.