Page 8 of September’s Tide (Island Tales #2)

Chapter Five

David sagged into the comfortable sofa and sipped his wine.

He’d offered to do the dishes but had been firmly rebuffed as his host informed him that guests didn’t do ‘the washing up.’ God, he loved the way they talked over here.

He’d met a few people today with the same musical quality to their voices Vanessa and Taylor possessed, but there had also been a few people with London accents.

“That was delicious, by the way,” David called to Taylor. He could hear him moving about in the kitchen. The fish had been cooked to perfection and had certainly tasted nothing like fish bought in the stores back home. The flavour had been superb.

“Make yourself comfortable while I put on the coffee,” Taylor’s voice wafted back.

David took the opportunity to look around.

The living room was large, with a huge window overlooking the cove.

The furniture comprised a large couch and two overstuffed armchairs, a thick rug in shades of reds and browns on the floor in front of the fireplace—a real fireplace, and one obviously used when the weather required it.

He could picture himself living in this house. There was a nice feel to the place.

David knew he was susceptible to atmospheres in places he visited. He often picked up on vibes and at times it made him uncomfortable to the point where he couldn’t wait to get out of there. But in Taylor’s home, he felt relaxed.

That meant a lot.

One thing he did notice was the large number of books.

Taylor was clearly a voracious reader. David got up from the sofa to wander across to the bookcases which filled the wall space on either side of the chimney breast. He couldn’t help but notice the wide array of travel books.

So Taylor likes to travel, huh ? The books covered just about every continent.

There was a huge choice of fiction, and…

David stared in astonishment. One shelf contained nothing but James Blanchette novels, starting with Tell Me The Truth .

He pulled it from the shelf. It was a dog-eared copy, creased and clearly well-read.

David smiled to himself. Taylor was a James Blanchette fan.

He’d never actually spoken with a real-life fan before, in spite of his ten years of writing.

He had no wish to interact with the public, especially people who might be inclined to gush.

That’s what I pay Juliet for.

“Do you like him too?”

David turned to see Taylor standing in the doorway holding two coffee mugs. The aroma of the coffee drifted across the room. Taylor walked over and handed him a mug.

David gave a noncommittal shrug. “I haven’t read any of his stuff.” There was no way he was about to reveal himself. He didn’t know Taylor well enough for that. He sniffed the coffee appreciatively.

“I love his stories,” Taylor continued. “He has this detective, Ed Manning, who’s really cool.

I try to figure out who the bad guy is, but he always keeps me guessing.

” Taylor flopped onto the sofa after putting down his coffee mug on the low table that sat on top of the rug.

David said nothing but came to sit next to him.

Taylor rested his head back on the seat cushion and regarded David speculatively.

“So, David, tell me about yourself. What brings you to the island?” He grinned.

“It’s a long way from the States, that’s for sure. ”

David had already considered how much information he was prepared to give out.

“Actually, I’m a writer too. Nothing like James Blanchette—I’m only just starting out, for one thing—but I seem to have hit a brick wall lately.

Someone suggested I get away from it all and they came up with this place.

” He gestured toward the window. “And I have to say, it’s a beautiful place to live. I envy you.”

Taylor beamed. “It is, isn’t it?” He obviously loved his home. His eyes widened. “You write, too? Wow. Would I have read anything of yours? What genre do you write in?”

David shook his head. “Nah, you won’t have read my stuff. Like I said, I’m just starting out. But right now, I have a serious case of writer’s block.”

Taylor gave him a sympathetic look. “Oh, I’m sorry. That must be such a pain.”

You have no idea .

“Let’s change the subject,” David said abruptly. “Tell me all about Taylor Monroe.”

Taylor stretched out his long, toned legs, the skin tanned and smooth below the hem of his denim shorts.

“Well, I was born on the island, and I have a huge family—two brothers, two sisters, loads of cousins, aunts, uncles… Every Sunday it’s pretty much an open-door policy at my parents’ house.

Everyone who still lives on the island piles over there and Mum cooks up a storm.

My grandmother lives with them. She’s getting on a bit, she’s ninety and she’s looks like this frail little old lady.

” His eyes twinkled. “But she has the sharpest tongue.”

“It must be cool to have a big family,” David remarked wistfully. He was an only child, and his father had walked out on his mother when David was just four. Life had been hard for her, bringing up a little boy on her own.

Taylor grimaced. “The downside is everyone is always sticking their nose in everybody else’s business.” He finished his coffee and glanced at David’s nearly empty wineglass. “There’s more wine, if you want some.”

David thought about it. He’d been pretty good the last few days. “Yeah, go on, let’s live a little.”

Taylor snickered. “It’s not like you have far to go to get home, is it?”

That was definitely a plus in David’s book.

Taylor went into the kitchen and returned with a freshly opened bottle of white wine. He poured out two generous glasses and then sat back down.

“So how long have you had the kayak rental business? It must pay well to provide you with this place.” David sipped the chilled wine.

Taylor snorted. “The business would never have paid for this. The house belongs to my parents. They rent it out sometimes in the summer. But I get to live here rent free.”

“Sweet.” David cocked his head. “So is business not good?”

Taylor shrugged. “I rent out the kayaks, canoes and boards for about six months of the year. The rest of the time I do whatever work I can get. I have friends who have their own businesses—gardening, construction—and I do work for them. For two summers I worked in a water sports centre, but that was an exception. I rarely do the same job twice. And I save every penny to be able to go traveling.”

David smiled. “I did notice all the travel guides. Where have you been?”

Taylor suddenly had a faraway look in his eye. “Oh wow, I’ve been to Spain, France, Italy, Thailand, Indonesia, Australia, Singapore…. The next trip I’d like to do is to Japan.” He took a long drink of his wine. “Have you travelled much?”

“A fair bit,” David admitted. “Not as much as I’d like to.” He loved the sound of Taylor’s life. It seemed as laid-back as the man himself.

They spent the next hour or so drinking wine and talking about their likes in music and movies.

David learned Taylor was a classic rock fan, but when he was cooking, he preferred blues or jazz, something mellow and sexy that he could lose himself in.

They both liked action movies, although Taylor had blushed when admitting to secretly liking all things Disney.

David had snorted. “God, you’re such a man-child.

” Taylor giggled but didn’t bother to deny it.

David was completely chilled out, and although he put it down to the alcohol, a tiny part of him had to admit maybe it was partly due to Taylor.

The boy was easy to talk to. And that gleam in his eye from the first night was back.

Definite interest there.

They’d finished nearly two-thirds of the wine, and the air between them had grown heavy with the low thrum of unspoken desire.

Taylor inched closer, his fingers ghosting along David’s thigh in a slow, absent caress that sent little jolts of heat sparking under denim.

David’s skin tingled beneath the fabric, his breath catching every time those fingers made another pass, a little bolder each time.

Taylor turned toward him, his voice so low it was barely more than a breath. “You okay?”

David nodded, his throat dry. “Yeah. I’m a little… warm, that’s all.”

Taylor smiled, then his easy, sun-drenched grin morphed into something darker. He leaned in, and for a heartbeat everything stopped: the sound of waves outside, the ticking clock, even the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then Taylor kissed him, and David’s senses exploded.

The first brush of lips was slow, testing, but firm and deliberate.

Taylor tasted faintly of wine and sea salt, and something purely, intoxicatingly him .

David’s whole body lit up like a struck match.

The scent of Taylor’s skin—warm, clean, with a trace of ocean air—flooded his head. His pulse thundered in his ears.

He responded without thought, his reaction almost primal. He cupped the back of Taylor’s head, his fingers tangling in that sun-bleached hair, and pulled him in deeper.

Taylor opened for him with a soft, needy sound that went straight to David’s dick.

Their tongues met, slick and hungry, and the kiss was suddenly fast, hot, and messy, consuming him.

David tilted, his body angling closer as if gravity had shifted and Taylor was the centre of it.

His thigh pressed to Taylor’s, and he could feel the heat of him, the slow burn building beneath the surface.

Taylor gripped David’s waist, his fingers digging into the flesh as though he didn’t want to let go.

David gasped into the kiss, then chased it with another, his hunger deepening.

His heart hammered, his blood roared, and the only thing that mattered was Taylor’s mouth on his, the heat of it, the way Taylor kissed as if he’d been starving and David was the only food that could satiate him.