worships Nick. I’m looking forward to seeing him next week.” Owen swore she blushed. “He said he might take me to dinner at Rosario’s. That’ll be nice.”
Owen fought back a grin at the look of bliss on the woman’s face as he tried to keep a straight face. He might be an open book but he thought Heather was too. “So you and he are an item then?”
Her blush went from salmon pink to traffic light red. “Good heavens, no. We’re just friends.” Owen nodded sagely, about to make a snarky comment when a deep voice interrupted.
“Don says he’s looking forward to seeing you too.” Nick stood framed in the doorway, his shirt on, his face unfathomable. Socks leapt down from the curtain onto his shoulder with an excited squeal. Nick patted him absently. “He says he’ll be here Monday morning. I just spoke to him.”
He walked over to the fridge, took out a beer can and popped the tab. “I have to be in town in about an hour to meet Daniel and I still have to shower.” He glanced at Owen. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back. It’ll be before high tide at one a.m. anyway.”
Owen’s jealousy surged about what he thought Nick and Daniel were going to get up to. “So you’re not staying over there all night then?” he said, his voice tight.
Nick stared at him expressionlessly. “It’s a chess game, Owen.”
Owen snorted. There was silence for a minute then Heather stood up. She glanced from Nick to Owen with a satisfied smirk. “I’d better get off anyway. It’s a bit of a walk back to town and you men have things to do. I should have called ahead.” She drained her wine glass. “I’m glad I popped in, Nick. It looks like you’re in good hands with Owen here.” She smiled at the monkey. “And Socks too, of course.”
Nick didn’t answer. Owen stood up, throwing his can in the plastic recycling bag he’d put out. Heather kissed Nick on the cheek and did the same to Owen.
“I’ll see you boys when Don arrives,” she called out as she walked down the path. “You two behave now.”
Both men watched the little round figure until it was out of view. Nick turned, disappearing into his bedroom. Socks scarpered after him. A few minutes later Owen heard the shower start and the familiar strains of Eminem wafting out of the bedroom. Nick was addicted to the man’s music. It played whenever he got the chance and Owen was heartily sick of hearing about him “losing himself” and how the man was “cleaning out his closet.” Huh. Coincidence? Mathers was Eminem’s real surname wasn’t it?
He took another beer out of the fridge and sat down to drink it. He finished it then opened another one, feeling fairly mellow. He also googled Heather’s name on his smartphone and found out she was a well-thought-of clinical psychologist. His brow furrowed.
So she and Nick might have a relationship other than being just friends . That explained her reticence to tell Owen anything about Nick, with the whole “doctor-patient privilege” thing.
Twenty minutes later the music stopped and Nick appeared. Owen caught his breath.
God, the man cleans up nicely.
It was the first time he’d seen Nick in anything than jeans, sweatpants or tee shirts. His hair hung down wet and shiny to his shoulders, already starting to curl at the ends. Nick wore a dark blue polo shirt, opened to the neck, showing a small peek of chest hair that Owen already knew smelt like sandalwood and sweat. He had on grey, tight-fitting chinos that showcased his arse admirably and a pair of black loafers. He was strapping a watch onto his right wrist. Owen ignored him, drinking his beer, but his groin was having none of it. He was painfully hard.
Nick seemed a little nervous. “Right, I’m getting off. I’m taking my car. I don’t fancy the walk back later. I’ll see you when I see you.” He hesitated.
Owen waved his can at him. “Fine. Have a good time. Tell Daniel I said hello.” His third beer had given him a
Owen fought back a grin at the look of bliss on the woman’s face as he tried to keep a straight face. He might be an open book but he thought Heather was too. “So you and he are an item then?”
Her blush went from salmon pink to traffic light red. “Good heavens, no. We’re just friends.” Owen nodded sagely, about to make a snarky comment when a deep voice interrupted.
“Don says he’s looking forward to seeing you too.” Nick stood framed in the doorway, his shirt on, his face unfathomable. Socks leapt down from the curtain onto his shoulder with an excited squeal. Nick patted him absently. “He says he’ll be here Monday morning. I just spoke to him.”
He walked over to the fridge, took out a beer can and popped the tab. “I have to be in town in about an hour to meet Daniel and I still have to shower.” He glanced at Owen. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back. It’ll be before high tide at one a.m. anyway.”
Owen’s jealousy surged about what he thought Nick and Daniel were going to get up to. “So you’re not staying over there all night then?” he said, his voice tight.
Nick stared at him expressionlessly. “It’s a chess game, Owen.”
Owen snorted. There was silence for a minute then Heather stood up. She glanced from Nick to Owen with a satisfied smirk. “I’d better get off anyway. It’s a bit of a walk back to town and you men have things to do. I should have called ahead.” She drained her wine glass. “I’m glad I popped in, Nick. It looks like you’re in good hands with Owen here.” She smiled at the monkey. “And Socks too, of course.”
Nick didn’t answer. Owen stood up, throwing his can in the plastic recycling bag he’d put out. Heather kissed Nick on the cheek and did the same to Owen.
“I’ll see you boys when Don arrives,” she called out as she walked down the path. “You two behave now.”
Both men watched the little round figure until it was out of view. Nick turned, disappearing into his bedroom. Socks scarpered after him. A few minutes later Owen heard the shower start and the familiar strains of Eminem wafting out of the bedroom. Nick was addicted to the man’s music. It played whenever he got the chance and Owen was heartily sick of hearing about him “losing himself” and how the man was “cleaning out his closet.” Huh. Coincidence? Mathers was Eminem’s real surname wasn’t it?
He took another beer out of the fridge and sat down to drink it. He finished it then opened another one, feeling fairly mellow. He also googled Heather’s name on his smartphone and found out she was a well-thought-of clinical psychologist. His brow furrowed.
So she and Nick might have a relationship other than being just friends . That explained her reticence to tell Owen anything about Nick, with the whole “doctor-patient privilege” thing.
Twenty minutes later the music stopped and Nick appeared. Owen caught his breath.
God, the man cleans up nicely.
It was the first time he’d seen Nick in anything than jeans, sweatpants or tee shirts. His hair hung down wet and shiny to his shoulders, already starting to curl at the ends. Nick wore a dark blue polo shirt, opened to the neck, showing a small peek of chest hair that Owen already knew smelt like sandalwood and sweat. He had on grey, tight-fitting chinos that showcased his arse admirably and a pair of black loafers. He was strapping a watch onto his right wrist. Owen ignored him, drinking his beer, but his groin was having none of it. He was painfully hard.
Nick seemed a little nervous. “Right, I’m getting off. I’m taking my car. I don’t fancy the walk back later. I’ll see you when I see you.” He hesitated.
Owen waved his can at him. “Fine. Have a good time. Tell Daniel I said hello.” His third beer had given him a
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