Page 25 of Oz (Finding Home #1)

“I somehow know that’s negative in your mind, but I also know that it’s true in a different way.

He’s never met anyone like you, Oz, and that’s a very bloody good thing.

Do me a favour?” I look up at him and he smiles.

“Give it a chance. Go with him and see where he leads you.” He pauses.

“After all, it’s just for the summer, isn’t it? ”

I nod and smile. “You’re right. I’ll be back in London by the autumn.”

I can’t even summon up the energy for fake enthusiasm.

Later that afternoon I come down the stairs to find Silas waiting in the hallway. He’s wearing jeans and a forest-green polo shirt, and he looks gorgeous. He looks up and, seeing me, a wide smile crosses his face.

“You look amazing,” he murmurs, coming towards me as I reach the bottom step and pulling me into a kiss. The step puts me almost at his height and I look into his warm eyes, a clear green this afternoon, and smile.

“Thank you.” I look down at my outfit of skinny jeans, motorcycle boots, and a cornflower-blue short-sleeved shirt. I tug at the shirt. “Is it okay for where we’re going?”

“It’s fine,” he says soothingly.

“Eyeliner okay? I don’t want to shock the locals.”

“I don’t think you’d shock anyone where we’re going. All their attention will be elsewhere.” He pauses and strokes my cheekbone. “Anyway, I’ve discovered that I’m very partial to your eyeliner. It makes those pretty blue eyes pop.”

“They’re going to pop out if you don’t tell me where we’re going.”

He laughs and stands back, and for a second I mourn the loss of his warm arms. But then he grabs a backpack and slings it onto his shoulders before taking my hand and leading me out of the house.

I look down at his tanned large hand holding mine and look up as he steers us towards the private carpark. “So, we’re fully public?” I ask wryly. “No hiding in cupboards for us.”

He stops and turns to me with a troubled look on his face. “Did you mind? I’ve been a bit worried all day that I’ve forced you into something you didn’t want.”

I laugh. “ Force me? I don’t know if you’ve met me, Silas, but while I may be small I’m not exactly built of obedient material.” He smiles a little, worry easing from his eyes but not enough, so I reach up and stroke his face. “It’s fine. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“I got that from the way your mouth opened and shut like a fish.”

I grin lasciviously at him. “My mouth opening and closing should be a cause for celebration.”

He shudders and his eyes darken. “I’ll be sure to let off fireworks,” he says slowly, and I grin.

“The stars will burn and the heavens burst.”

“Happy as I am that you don’t lack confidence, could we please stop talking now?” he says wryly and adjusts himself.

My mouth waters at the large bulge and I shake my head. “You know we don’t have to go on a date, Silas. I don’t usually need wining and dining. Just a name and a cock.”

“Well, I know your name and I have a cock. But unfortunately, you’re still going to have to wait for it.”

“Why?” The bewilderment is strong in my voice and he smiles and tugs me into a hug.

His warm breath smells of mint and I can smell the scent of his aftershave in the sweet arch where his neck meets his shoulder.

“Because in the past I’ve always jumped straight into bed,” he whispers.

“And it never ended well. We got to know each other after our bodies, and not before. I want something different this time. I don’t know why, but I want to know you before I stick my cock in you. ”

“But you are going to do that, as well?” I confirm, and he pulls back and gives me a wry smile.

“Of course I am. I can’t keep away from you. Haven’t you noticed?”

I mull this over as he opens the door of his car and gestures me in.

I’m still mulling it over ten minutes later.

He sits quietly, seemingly happy to let me have my thoughts, which is a rarity in my life.

Normally men jump in, eager to hear their own voices and stories.

My voice and thoughts are secondary and unimportant.

I enjoy the silence which is strangely peaceful. Eventually, I sit up.

“Okay. I can do that,” I say, and he reaches across and squeezes my hand.

He keeps hold of it for a while, and when he has to change gears he lowers my hand to his thigh.

It isn’t a request for me to grab his dick.

I’ve had enough of those to recognise the move.

Instead, it’s like a simple desire for contact between him and me, and when he turns to face me, for a second I see contentment in his eyes and I leave my hand there.

It stays there as we drive down the A30 and he starts to question me.

Not my CV. Not my number of sexual partners.

Instead, he asks about my favourite films and foods and anything else I could possibly have a favourite in.

I’m still bewildered, but we find that we share a love of classic horror films and cold pizza, but while he loves blue cheese, I would rather eat vomit.

“It’s disgusting,” I protest, laughing as he turns an indignant face to me.

He shakes his head. “And you’d rather eat a grilled Babybel cheese and pickle sandwich? It’s incomprehensible.”

“Don’t knock it,” I advise. “It’s the quickest cure for a hangover I know.”

“God, I haven’t had one of those in ages,” he says wistfully.

“Why do you sound regretful?”

“Because I haven’t been really drunk and let go in ages.” He shrugs. “There’s just so much to do with the practice, the building, and the house accounts.” He shudders, and I wince sympathetically.

“Are you worried?”

He looks at me and grins. “It’s probably bad form to introduce darker subjects on a second date.”

“I just think–” I run out of words and he looks at me curiously.

“What?”

I shrug. “To me, if you’re going to know someone, you should know everything. All the dark bits, all the sunny bits, because they add up to one person’s whole. I don’t ever shy away from problems. It’s not in me.”

He nods as if he’s having something confirmed for him.

“I think I sensed that in you from the beginning.” He sighs.

“Okay. I’m worried all the time because if the house thing doesn’t work then it’s not just me.

Chi an Mor may be my inheritance, but I look on it as being shared with Henry and I can’t let him down. ”

“Does he own it too?”

He shakes his head. “It’s left to the eldest son. There should have been money left for Henry, but my twat of a father left everything to me because on a few occasions I enjoyed a vagina.” I gasp and he grins. “I split the money immediately but the estate is entailed, so it falls to me.”

“Could he give you the money back?” I ask tentatively but he shakes his head vehemently.

“No. I’d never ask him. That’s not fair.”

I stare at him, but he seems obdurate on this so I settle for a quiet okay.

“It’s not just me though,” he says as he navigates the narrow Cornish lanes adeptly, his hands relaxed on the wheel. “There’s all the staff. If I lose the house they’ll lose their home. I couldn’t bear that.”

“What about The National Trust and English Heritage?”

He pulls the car to a stop behind a long line of other cars waiting on the narrow country lane and then shoots me a look. “They’ve come calling but I’m not there yet.” He winces. “Not quite yet.”

I think hard. “Okay, let’s be honest. If you open the house, the money will be good but it’s probably not going to allow you much leeway with bills.” I hesitate. “I have an idea, but I don’t want to tell you. Do you trust me to put some feelers out?”

I know he can’t or won’t be able to. I would find it impossible to put my fate in a stranger’s hands.

“Okay,” he says softly and I jerk.

“ Really ?”

He laughs. “The incredulity in your voice is worrying, Oz.” He smiles and squeezes my hand on his thigh.

“I trust you. You have an air of trustworthiness about you. I know you care about Chi an Mor and the people and I know you won’t jeopardise that.

” I open my mouth but before I can speak he exclaims in disgust. “What on earth are these people doing?” He unbuckles his seat belt and opens the door.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

He grins. “We’ll be here forever if we wait for people to sort this out. There’s obviously a bus or a motorhome trying to get through. This lane is notorious for it. If we leave it we’ll still be here at nighttime waiting for someone to have an idea, and we haven’t got time. We’re on a deadline.”

“A deadline. What are we doing?” I ask, but it’s to open air as he ambles round the car and moves over to the vehicles stuck in front of us.

He bends down and says something to one of the drivers and the man immediately gets out.

I watch them idly as they stand together pointing and talking.

Two more men join them and Silas gestures at them and to a field on the left.

They nod, listening intently, as I admire the late afternoon sun shining on his hair.

His shoulders are wide in the green shirt and his arse in those old jeans of his that he favours is a thing of beauty.

He laughs at something one of the men says and I smile.

That wide grin and the lines at the sides of his eyes attract me madly and resonate somewhere inside me deep, like someone is striking a bell in my stomach and chest.

His words ring in my ears about me caring and I shake my head and rub at my eyes.

I do care about the people in the house and the beautiful dilapidated building that calls to something in me, but my deepest, most incomprehensible feelings are for him.

It scares me, but I know I’ll stay and I will do anything to help him keep his birthright.

I will stay and I will see where this thing leads me. I’ve never shied away from a challenge, but this might be my biggest one yet.