Page 1 of Home Grown Talent

CHAPTER ONE

Owen

February

Owen was hard-pruning the clematis that swarmed up the back wall of his garden when his doorbell rang. He knew immediately it was Lewis, his younger brother—no one else rang his doorbell so obnoxiously.

Owen’s doorbell was a cheery little two-note bell. A proper little ding-dong of a bell. But Lewis had a way of leaning on it that made the dings run into the dongs and start to stutter, until it seemed like the whole contraption was having a nervous breakdown.

Which was… very Lewis. He had that effect on a lot of people too.

Owen unhurriedly closed his secateurs, crossed the garden, and went inside the house to answer the door. Sure enough, on the other side stood Lewis, and with him was Aaron, his boyfriend of the last few months.

“Could you not break my doorbell?” Owen asked mildly, stepping aside and waving them in.

“You were taking ages,” Lewis said unapologetically, as he moved past him.

“I was in the garden.”

“You’re always in the garden.”

Aaron flashed his cute smile at Owen as he stepped into the house and held up a be-ribboned cardboard box. “I brought cake.”

Owen grinned. “See, this is why I like you more than Lewis.”

“I heard that,” Lewis called from halfway down the hallway, but he sounded a little bit pleased. The soppy sod.

Owen followed them down the hallway to the back of the house. When he’d bought the place, he’d knocked through a couple of walls to make one big kitchen and living area, adding some wide glass doors at the back that let in tons of natural light and gave him a nice view of his pride and joy: the garden.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Oh, just popping by on the off-chance you’d be in,” Lewis said airily, which made Owen immediately suspicious, particularly given that Owen could now see that the cake box Aaron was holding looked very fancy indeed, with gold lettering and gold and blue ribbons.

“Any chance of a cuppa?” Lewis asked.

“Sure. Tea or coffee?”

“Hot chocolate?” Lewis said hopefully.

“Hot chocolate and cake?” Owen said, raising his brows. “You want to go into a sugar coma?”

“Can’t think of a better way to die.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have any hot chocolate, so pick a grown-up beverage.”

Lewis made a face. “Tea then. Two sugars.”

Owen rolled his eyes and turned to Aaron. “Coffee for you?”

Aaron nodded happily and held out the cake box. “I got a few different ones.”

He certainly had, Owen saw when he opened it up in the kitchen. Six ridiculously pretty slices of French patisserie, each one constructed of an impressive number of layers and decorated with fancy chocolate and fruit. Owen grinned to himself, knowing that Lewis would prefer a cheap jam doughnut.

While he busied himself putting on the coffee machine and making tea, Lewis and Aaron made themselves comfy on his sofa. Lewis—always one to make himself at home—picked up the remote and turned on the TV, lazily scrolling through channels, pausing every now and again to make some acerbic comment that made Aaron laugh before moving on.

Owen loaded up a tray with their drinks and the patisserie Aaron had brought and carried it through. Lewis had just landed on a channel on which a good-looking silver fox was talking earnestly to two women in stretchy outfits standing on yoga mats.

“Hey, it’s Weekend Wellness,” Aaron said. “Leave it on.”