Page 3 of Leather and Longing (Island Tales #3)

Chapter Three

Mark held out his pint glass and both Sam and Paul clinked theirs against it. “Cheers. Here’s to your new job. May it bring you everything you wish for.”

Sam murmured in agreement. Around them was the usual noise of Wetherspoons on a Friday night.

The pub was packed, everyone celebrating the start of the weekend with alcohol.

The TV screens were silent, but a football game was playing on one, while another showed a news channel.

It was a warm night, and the hinged windows at the front of the pub were open, letting in a slight breeze.

Paul leaned back against the padded bench with a sigh. “Nice thought, but I’m not gonna hold my breath. I can’t see this one lasting too long.”

Mark lifted his eyebrows. “Why not?” He gazed intently at Paul. “That doesn’t sound like you, mate.”

Paul stared into the dark contents of his glass. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “It’s just that I was feeling so good when she gave me the job and then he made me feel like shit, first when he flat out ignored me, and then when he locked that door.”

Sam laced his fingers through Mark’s on the table. Paul liked that they weren’t afraid to be affectionate in public, not that they’d have done much more than hold hands. The island was still behind the rest of the country when it came to acceptance of gay PDAs.

Aw, come on. At least we have Pride here now, right? That was definitely a step in the right direction.

“So you don’t even know what this Adam is like?” Sam asked.

“Apart from being a rude bastard, y’mean?

” Paul took a long drink of his beer before continuing.

He brought up an image of Adam in his mind.

“Not that he looked once in my direction, you understand. But actually, from what I saw of him, I might consider him good looking.” Those black curls, fair, creamy complexion, the toned arms…

Paul had found himself wanting to see the eyes behind those dark glasses.

“Oh, do I detect a hint of attraction?” Mark was smirking. “C’mon, you can tell us. Is he sexy?”

Paul nearly spluttered his beer all over the table. He coughed vigorously.

Sam grinned. “I think that’s a yes, love.” He leaned against Mark’s shoulder, his eyes dancing with amusement. Mark chuckled.

Paul wiped his mouth and watering eyes, and stared at them both, shaking his head. “Will you two stop it? I swear, you’re always trying to hook me up with someone.”

“That’s ’cause you need a man,” Sam told him in earnest. His fingers tightened around Mark’s. “And besides, it would make working for him all the more interesting if there was a little… spark between you.”

Paul regarded them with affection. He’d become friends with Mark when he’d come back to the island after college.

He’d been looking for a decent hairdresser, and someone had recommended a new salon that had opened in Ryde, Make Your Mark.

Paul had gone to investigate and had met one of the owners.

At twenty-three, Mark Horrocks had seemed very young to have his own salon, but once they’d got talking, all had become clear.

The salon was a joint venture with another hairdresser, Sonia, and the business was doing well.

It hadn’t taken long during Paul’s first visit to work out Mark was gay, though the sight of Sam coming in at lunchtime and kissing Mark on the cheek might have had something to do with it.

None of the customers batted an eyelid, and it quickly became evident that the ladies who frequented the salon were very fond of the couple.

Then he’d learned Sam was a computer games designer and a very successful one.

And after a few visits, Paul and Mark had become good friends.

He sighed. “Not everyone is as lucky as you two, you know that, right?” He envied them.

Sam and Mark were a good fit and obviously in love.

“And as for making my job more interesting, I think I’m gonna have more than enough to cope with, without complicating things further.

” He relayed what Adam’s sister had told him.

Mark’s eyes widened. “Whoa. You sure you want to work for this bloke? He sounds like he’s gonna go out of his way to make things difficult for you.”

“I’m with Mark,” Sam said, his voice soft, his brow creased. “And the way you were talking just now, you seem to have already accepted you’re going to fail at this.”

That gave him pause. “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I’m letting him get the better of me before I’ve even begun.”

And that’s not like me.

“That’s better.” A note of satisfaction crept into Mark’s voice. “You need to go in there on Monday, determined to take all this guy can throw at you, and then some.” He grinned. “You show this Adam what you’re made of.”

“Where is the house again?” Sam asked, taking a drink of his beer.

“You know Steephill Cove, right?”

They both chuckled. “We go there often,” Mark said. “Sam and I like to have lunch at the Beach Shack.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, even if Andy complains that the café is overrun with gays.” When Paul quirked an eyebrow, he explained.

“Well, there’s us, and then there’s Taylor and his hubby David.

Ever since David wrote one of his gay romance novels set in Steephill, Andy says more and more gay couples are turning up. ”

Paul had known Taylor Monroe and his tight-knit group of friends vaguely from high school, but he’d become close friends with the owner of Cove Kayaks when he’d started using its services a few summers ago.

David Hannon, Taylor’s husband, was an American author who’d come on a visit to Steephill a couple of years ago.

He’d fallen in love with the horseshoe bay—and with Taylor.

Once he’d made the move permanently to the UK, it hadn’t taken long before he and Taylor had announced their plans to marry.

Paul had been a guest at their wedding. They lived in the bay and Paul knew David liked to sit and write in the café.

Yet another loved-up couple. Must be something in the air. Or maybe in the cove itself.

Whatever it was, Paul seemed to have missed out on it. He shrugged off the thought.

Right now I don’t have time for romance. It looked as if Adam was going to take up all his time and attention.

“Does Adam live in the cove?” Mark asked.

“You know the big house up on the cliff that overlooks the bay?”

He frowned for a second or two and then his forehead smoothed out. “Yeah, Cliffside.” He snorted. “Now there’s a name that took some imagination to come up with.”

“It’s a lovely house,” Sam said with a sigh. “The views from up there must be spectacular.”

“Oh, they are,” Paul agreed. When both men gazed at him, he smiled. “That’s where Adam lives.”

“Wow.” Sam gave a slow nod. “That sure beats living with your parents in Binstead. I can see why you want the job.”

Paul snorted again. “I’d have taken the job if it would have meant moving to a council house in Ryde, guys. You have no idea what it’s been like recently at home.”

“Aww, you been finding it tough living with the parents again after being a student and having your freedom?” Mark teased.

“My dad got pissed off having me under his feet all the time, and he kept telling me to find a job, any job. Okay, so I made the decision to wait until a job turned up that was more related to my studies,” he said defensively.

Only thing was, jobs on the island were mostly seasonal.

“He saw the ad for this position before I did, and basically threw the newspaper at me, with a big red circle around it.” The message had been crystal clear.

Apply for it. Yesterday.

Both Mark and Sam laughed. Mark leaned forward. “Sam’s right, y’know. You need a man.” Then he chuckled. “Well, specifically, you need to get laid.”

Paul heaved a sigh. “We’ve had this conversation.”

“And we’re gonna have it again,” Mark said, a stubborn glint in his eyes. “You’re twenty-five, Paul. It’s not normal.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Sam interjected. “Have you forgotten something? I was almost the same age as Paul when you and I met, and I was a virgin.” He grinned. “And someone not a million miles away was really wary of bottoming, because?—”

“Hush, you.” Mark put his hand over Sam’s mouth. “This is not the place to be talking about that.” Slowly he removed his hand. Sam’s grin was still in evidence. “Okay,” he conceded, “so it’s not totally unheard of to get to Paul’s age and?—”

“Can you not talk about me as if I’m not sitting here?” Paul said with a huff. He lowered his voice. “And for your information, I’m not a virgin.”

“Hand-jobs in the toilets of a gay bar don’t count,” Mark responded promptly.

Damn Mark and his memory. “Do you ever forget a conversation?”

“Nope.” Mark sat back with a smug expression on his face.

“Blow jobs don’t count either. And before you say a word,” he said, digging Sam in the ribs with his elbow, “yes, I know blow jobs are sex, but I seem to recall someone around here saying that in his mind, sex was actual… penetration.” If possible, his smile grew even more smug as he turned back to Paul. “So in my mind, you’re still a virgin.”

“Mark’s right, but for all the wrong reasons as usual,” Sam said.

Paul peered at him inquiringly and Sam blushed.

He took a glance at the surrounding tables and their occupants before leaning forward, his gaze focused on Paul.

“It’s not like when a girl loses her virginity.

I mean, there’s no barrier, or anything.

But joining yourself to someone like that, it’s…

Well, I think it’s an emotional experience, and yes, there’s an emotional barrier to overcome.

You’re connected, as deeply connected as it’s possible for two people to be.

” He nudged his partner. “And if Paul feels he wants to wait until he’s ready to make that connection, then it’s his choice.

It may well be he doesn’t want that connection, and that’s fine too. ”

There was silence for a moment.