New Lease of Life (16 page)

“Any idea what you’re going to do with your dressing room, or have you still not had the guts to go inside properly?”

“I had a couple of tradesmen around this morning. A plumber and a carpenter.”

A confused frown marred Colby’s features. If anything it made him look even more adorable.

“I can’t decide between an en suite or reading nook,” Pip explained.

“Oh!” Colby’s face cleared as realization dawned. “I’d go with a library if you have to change it. At least they could reuse that lovely wood.”

“Speaking of which”—and the original reason for his visit, which he appeared to have forgotten the moment he’d stepped into the shop and seen Colby—“the carpenter told me all about this cane. It’s a quality piece of work and must have cost you a fortune.”

“I think we’ve established I can afford it, but cost isn’t really the issue, is it?”

“I can’t accept it.”

“The cane or my help?”

Pip pushed against the anger that clawed inside. He wasn’t going to do this, not with Colby.

“There’s no obligation. To me,” Colby added by way of explanation. He gestured to the cane. “We aren’t a package deal.”

“I know,” Pip mumbled. He hadn’t, but it would seem presumptuous to admit that he’d thought the walking stick had been Colby’s attempt at flirting.

“Pip, I know you don’t like to accept help—”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

Despite only having known each other a couple of days, that statement really wasn’t true. Colby continued as though Pip hadn’t even spoken.

“But there is a fine line between independence and isolation.”

“You don’t know—” Pip fell back on the familiar refrain but didn’t get far.

“You did a kind thing, and you didn’t deserve to be punished for it.”

Pip shook his head. “I’m broken. I can’t be the man you want me to be.”

“You already are. I don’t send a photo of my sleeping companion to just anybody, you know.” Colby smiled fondly. “Don’t you like it? The cane, not my teddy bear.”

“Of course, it’s beautiful, but it’s too much.” Too much like somebody cares.

Colby shrugged. “You know if I take it back, I’ll only end up giving it to you for Christmas or your birthday.”

“Both events are months away. That’s a huge presumption, that we’ll know each other then.” More to the point, would Colby put up with him for that long?

“I can be very persistent.” Colby’s gaze flicked down to take in Pip from head to toe and back again before making eye contact.

“I think they call that stalking,” Pip said with a smile.

Not breaking eye contact, Colby grinned but didn’t respond.

“What? Have I got something on my face?”

“Nothing that shouldn’t be there. So, you want me to take the cane back. I can’t.”

Pip opened his mouth to protest, but Colby held up a hand, halting him in his tracks.

“I don’t have the crutch here. It’s at home. I can bring it in Monday.”

“Tomorrow,” Pip countered. The longer he hung on to the cane, the harder it would be to give it up.

“I won’t be here.” Colby sighed, seemingly disheartened. “I guess I could drop by this way on my way out tonight and leave it in the shop for you to pick up.”

“But you won’t be here? Tomorrow?”

“No. I’ve got a family thing. Mum’s fiftieth. I’m leaving for my sister’s when I get in, and then we’re off to Mum’s in Nottingham. I’m playing decoy, dragging Mum ’round the charity shops ‘looking for stock’”—Colby made air quotes as he spoke—“so Cris, my sister, can get everything ready.”

It would be easier to return the cane if he didn’t have to see the disappointment on Colby’s face. “Sounds like a busy weekend. I won’t scupper your plans.” What the hell was he doing? “I can pick the crutch up on Monday.”

Had he just agreed to leave the house? Again? How did Colby do that?

“Great.” Colby’s grin returned. “Come about twelve, and I’ll take you out to lunch. If you want to?”

“Lunch?” That sounded like a date. Did he want a date? Colby had said no obligation, but they
had
kissed. Pip definitely wanted more kisses.

Obviously his mental ramblings had seemed like hesitation because Colby broke into his thoughts. “We don’t have to do lunch.”

“No, lunch sounds good. Actually, it sounds like you’re trying to feed me up.” Pip swept a hand down his body. “Trying to put some meat on these bones?”

“
Actually
, I’m trying to jump them.” Colby’s voice was barely a whisper as he leaned in close enough to press a kiss to Pip’s cheek. “Mum always says a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

The slightest movement of his head and Pip’s lips brushed Colby’s jaw in the search for his mouth as the aforementioned organ made its presence known by pounding against his rib cage.

The bell above the shop door tinkled once, twice. Pip sighed and muttered, “Bellus Interuptus. Again.”

Colby laughed, his breath bathing Pip’s lips in a moist heat before he put a few inches of space between them. “It’s that or I’m suffering from tinnitus.”

“I should go. Let you get on with some work.” Pip took a step back and waved Colby toward his customers. “I’ll see you Monday.”

As he weaved his way through the shop, Pip couldn’t resist making one or two stops. A last glimpse of the golden waistcoat, hidden by more inferior pieces, and then, at the door, he paused, his gaze settling on the dark-haired man who had dumped his life on its head.

As if knowing he was being watched, Colby raised his head, and his smile widened, sending Pip’s heart racing. Casual as possible, Pip waved and stepped through the door. The bell tinkled behind him, and Pip smiled.

PIP’S PHONE
beeped indicating an incoming message. Two, actually. Both picture messages and both from Colby. It had been barely three hours since Pip had left Colby at the shop, but even before he opened them, the thrill of anticipation made him shiver.

Calm down.
A kiss or two and now Pip was all of a flap. Picture messages didn’t mean dick photos and certainly not at six in the evening. Anyway, hadn’t Colby said something about driving to his mum’s house in Nottingham?

The first message opened to reveal, not a naked Colby, but half an apple. Strange. Tamping down his disappointment, Pip opened the second message and found himself looking at a small white mouse.

“What the fuck?” Pip muttered to himself, and then waited to see if any other messages would arrive. Some rules to this strange game Colby was playing would be handy.

However, his phone stayed ominously silent. When he could take it no more—he must have waited all of two minutes—he tapped out a message. Hardly a work of genius, but it summed up the way he was feeling in that moment.

WTF!?

The response was almost immediate—Pip could imagine Colby holding his phone, eagerly waiting for Pip’s name to flash up on the screen—yet no more enlightening than the pictures had been.

It’s you!

“What?” Pip said aloud. A word puzzle, maybe?

Applemouse.

Fruit rodent.

Core pest.

He sent all three suggestions separately but in quick succession before he could question his own sanity at playing such childish games. Games that, regardless of their infantile nature—or, perhaps, because of it—made him smile. Colby’s responses came back rapidly.

LOL

ROFLMAO

WTF?

Still no help. Especially the second one, which Pip couldn’t fathom for the life of him. Frustrated, Pip let his fingers do the talking, pressing Send before he’d properly digested his reply. He read it back, cringing inwardly as he did so.

Give me a clue. Seriously, some of us have things to do this evening.

That had been a tad more brusque than he’d intended.

Yeah. Me. However I’m waiting for my sister to finish packing.

Bloody texts. If he could only hear Colby’s voice, Pip would know how much damage he had done with the standoffish tone of his last message. A second text came through while he was worrying.

But if I’m bothering you I’ll go.

Fuck. Shit. No! As if Pip had anything better to do. While Colby was taking the time to play elaborate games—even if it was because he was bored—at least he was thinking of Pip.

The phone remained silent, and Pip realized he’d only protested in his head and as yet Colby couldn’t read his mind.

Don’t go. What’s the answer to your riddle?

Thought you had something important to do.

Wow, he’d thought Colby was like Teflon. Pip’s bad moods seemed to glide right past him, but now it appeared he’d crossed the line.

Nothing more important than you.

The truth in that statement either cast light on the sorry state of his life or just how quickly he’d fallen for Colby.

Aww! You say the sweetest things. But you told me earlier you’ve actually got nothing to do.

Sentiment still stands.
Pip texted back straight away, so Colby would know Pip hadn’t had to give the matter any thought.
You’re killing me here. What’s the answer?

You. Pipsqueak. :/

“You said that already,” Pip said with a groan and then sent the same words to Colby.

One more clue.

Several minutes passed without another message, though. Pip’s grip on his phone tightening with every moment the damn thing stayed silent. Perhaps Colby’s sister was ready, and Pip had been unceremoniously abandoned. A quick text
bye
or
gotta go
would have been nice.

Discarding the phone on the kitchen table—staring at it wasn’t going to make an incoming message more likely—Pip contemplated the groceries Colby had stacked in the corner on the worktop. They’d been there a day, and it was high time he put them away.

Reading the content labels as he put each one in the cupboard, Pip couldn’t believe the high levels of salt and sugar in the tinned meals he’d been living on since the accident. Not to mention all the preservatives. The instant noodles were no better, apparently.

The vibration of his phone on the table dragged him from the sorry state of his groceries. It jiggled a few millimeters across the tabletop, and Pip grinned, all but scampering from the unit to the table, his cane tapping on the stone-tiled floor.

He’d not been forgotten. Of course, if it was a helpful message advising him he was eligible for a PPI refund he’d be royally pissed.

Thankfully Colby’s name still showed on the screen. Another picture message. When Pip thumbed the message open, he realized the reason for the delay. Both previous photos had been grafted side by side. A red “pen” mark circled the core of the apple and another highlighted the tiny pink nose of the mouse.

Pip hazarded another guess.

Seed nose?

Even as he pressed Send, the actual answer came to him, but he decided to wait and see what Colby’s response would be to another ridiculous guess.

*sigh* Are you really this bad at the game or are you being purposely obtuse? Apple seed is a pip. A mouse squeaks. You = Pipsqueak!!!!!!

Death by exclamation point! Clever. But you can’t call me that.

Why?

Why indeed.
Because your cute nickname for me makes me feel wanted, and it’ll only hurt more when you walk away.
He didn’t send that, though.

I’m 31. Too old to be anyone’s pipsqueak.

The phone rang in his hand, startling Pip, and Colby’s teddy bear flashed up on the screen.

“Don’t you like it?” Colby said without any preamble the moment Pip answered.

“It’s not like that.” Damn Colby for ringing before Pip could successfully muster his arguments.

“Too early for pet names?”

Off balance, Pip snapped, “Too early for
what
? We’re not….” He floundered, groping about for the right word. Dating? Boyfriends? “Anything.”

“Friends? We are friends, aren’t we?”

Perhaps talking over texting gave Pip an indication of how his words were being received, but being able to hear the hurt in Colby’s voice didn’t help in the slightest. Colby wasn’t playing fair, implying that not having Pip as a friend would somehow have a negative impact on Colby’s life. Unless Pip had projected his own feelings onto Colby’s response because the rest of his life with a huge Colby-shaped hole in it suddenly seemed far from appealing.

“Of course we’re friends,” Pip said, reassuring himself as much as Colby. “New and shiny, but friends. Yes. Friends don’t have pet names for each other, though.”

“So….” Colby stretched out the vowel as though giving himself time to think through his next words. “We’re possibly more than friends? Because even with the new friends label, I might have seriously overstepped some boundaries this afternoon.”

“Possibly more,” Pip answered cautiously, not willing to shatter the smile he could hear in Colby’s voice with careless words and an adamant denial that he didn’t actually mean.

“Good.” Colby sighed, bringing a sense of relief with the rush of air. “To be fair, and in the interest of full disclosure, I don’t normally kiss my friends like that.”

Colby paused, and Pip wondered if the space had been left for him to make the same assertion. Except he couldn’t; the people on the periphery of Pip’s core of best friends ebbed and flowed with the season and locale, and he’d not just snogged, but sucked and been fucked by a fair few of them.

“Look,” Colby said eventually, “if you don’t like the name, I’ll stop using it.”

In the background someone called Colby’s name, thankfully giving Pip a moment’s respite from the varying emotions the conversation kept slamming him with.

“One minute. I’m on the phone.”

Colby sounded miles away and muffled, making Pip wonder vaguely if Colby had covered the mic with one of his large fingers. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, rested the cane against his thigh, and held up his free hand. Colby’s hand dwarfed Pip’s, not just in length and breadth but the thickness of his fingers.