Stuff (The Bristol Collection) (15 page)

Perry stepped back in alarm. “I should, erm, I should go and make sure I’ve got a clean towel for you.”

“Nah, that’s fine. I’ve got my own here. Tell you what, though, I’d love a cuppa. Gonna need to get a kettle for down here, aren’t I?”

“You can always come upstairs. Whenever you need to. I really don’t mind.”

Mas rubbed his eyes, and when he looked up with a sleepy smile, Perry was transfixed. Men shouldn’t be allowed to be that breathtaking. It was confusing, that’s what it was.

“I’ll see you up there in a bit.”

Perry made a hasty exit before he could do anything to embarrass himself further.

Half an hour later, and Mas had emerged from the shower smelling of something delightfully citrusy. Perry handed him his tea.

“So, are you going to show me your workshop or what?” Mas asked, the smile on his face almost wide enough to compensate for the lack of manners.

“I’m really not sure if it’s in any state to be seen.”

“C’mon. You promised.”

“I did?”

“Definitely. I remember.”

Perry ransacked his brain but came up blank. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten an important piece of information, though. When he was nervous, his short-term memory went to the dogs.

“I really need to see what’s up there. In terms of storage space for some of this stuff. I’m going to need to thin things down a bit and create some more room.”

“Seems ridiculous to be getting rid of stock to increase sales.”

“Sometimes that’s just the way it works. You can definitely have too much of a good thing.”

Perry nearly choked on his last mouthful of tea. “I’m surprised to hear you say that.”

“I’m amazed you noticed.” Mas’s grin turned wicked, and with a start, Perry realised how his words had been interpreted. He could feel his cheeks blazing.

“Um, the workshop, then. Okay. Let’s go.” Once they were outside the door, he fumbled his keys out of his pocket and led the world’s most persistent man into his workshop. It was the larger of the two rooms on this floor, occupying the back half of the building, where sunlight poured in through the two generously proportioned sash windows.

“Wow, I see what you mean about the clutter.” Mas walked into the room and spun around. “It’s organised, though. I’ll give you that.”

Perry had lined the walls with shelves made of reclaimed floorboards. On them sat a variety of found objects he planned to use one day, boxes and crates holding smaller bits and pieces. The really tiny nuts, bolts and cogs were all arranged in an antique medicine cabinet he’d salvaged and restored, each drawer carefully labelled.

“Hey, what are all the typewriters for?”

“Oh, I had this idea… But I haven’t found the other bits I need yet.”

Mas’s gaze panned up. “What’s with the stuffed animals? And does that box really say skulls?”

“Animal skulls. And I don’t stuff the animals myself. I just had this idea for using them, but then I became distracted by lizards.”

“As you do,” Mas murmured. He ran his finger over the surface of Perry’s workbench.

“Careful! There might be fragments of glass and wire.”

Mas started, his eyes even wider than usual. Such thick eyelashes he had. Almost like he was wearing mascara, but with none of that claggy texture Cherise’s eyelashes had. They framed his eyes like the setting for the gems within. Certainly not emeralds—the green wasn’t that bright. More like malachite or moss agate, perhaps.

“You don’t have much room left to work in here,” Mas observed, pacing the small amount of floor that wasn’t taken up with salvaged objects. “Especially if you’re thinking of doing larger pieces.”

“I know. But the other rooms are pretty full.”

“Going to show me?”

What the hell. Mas had seen everything else, hadn’t he? Perry opened the door into the other first floor room, pausing for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness and to search out the light switch.

“Why’s it so bloody dark in here?” Mas complained.

“Protects things from fading.” Someone had closed the ancient wooden shutters years ago, and Perry hadn’t felt any need to open them. They’d probably only fall apart, anyway. Suitcases, tea chests and various assorted containers were piled up everywhere, leaving only narrow paths through the gloom, but he knew his way around.

“Whoa! Are these all empty?”

“A few are, but most are full. That lot over there, all hatboxes, complete with a variety of bizarre millinery.”

Mas whistled. “This should be down in the shop. You can get a fortune for these old chests now, you know? And that dummy would be perfect for a window display.”

Perry glanced at the old dressmaker’s dummy. “I suppose.”

“Can I use it, or were you planning on turning it into one of your crazy sculptures?”

“I hadn’t thought of it.” But now Mas mentioned it, Perry’s brain was ticking over with ideas.

“Excellent. We can take it down with us in a minute.”

“Oh. Okay.” Well, it wasn’t like Mas was going to sell it if it was part of his window display, was he? Perry could take it back in the future.

“So what about the next floor?”

“Just more of the same, really. Assorted bric-a-brac. Some furs. More stuffed animals. I didn’t know whether to put those in the shop. I thought some of my customers might object.”

Mas wandered back through the room, lithe and graceful as he picked his way through the remnants of Perry’s old life. He stopped just short of Perry, and tilted his head to one side. “Hey, why so glum? I can get this all sorted out for you. Maybe we can even clear this room so you can have a bigger workshop. Or clear the floor above and you could expand your flat.”

“I don’t want things to change.”

“I think you do.” Mas’s hands landed on Perry’s shoulders and began kneading. He had to fight to stop himself leaning into the touch and purring like a cat. “I think you need your whole life shaken up a bit. You’ve got stuck in a rut, and you’re not happy. Something needs to change.”

“I don’t like change,” Perry whispered.

“You might, if you gave it a chance.”

Perry watched Mas speak, vaguely aware that he should be paying attention to the words, but mostly absorbed in the luscious fullness of his lips and that graceful curve to his Cupid’s bow.

“Perry? Are you feeling all right?”

Perry tore his gaze away from Mas’s mouth and met his eyes. Those stunning green irises were almost swallowed up by the black in this dim lighting, but that only seemed to make him even more desirable. Perry swallowed, tried to find something to say that would explain him staring. That could account for his thundering pulse and his rapid breathing.

But then Mas tilted his head to one side and flicked his tongue out, just briefly, to wet his lips. Before he could stop himself, Perry leaned down and claimed them in a kiss.

Mas’s lips were every bit as plump and juicy as they looked. Hunger swept over Perry, overpowering his reason. When Mas’s lips parted on a groan, Perry pushed his way in, tasting, exploring. He clutched Mas to him greedily. The hard planes of his body, the strength in Mas’s arms drove him wild. This was nothing like any kiss he’d ever had before.

And the strangest thing about it was feeling an answering hardness rubbing up against his own. It should have been alarming, but right now it felt entirely appropriate. Good, even.

Perry’s fingers tangled in Mas’s hair, yanking his head back so he could kiss his neck. Stubble rasped against his lips, tingling him. So many new sensations.

“Okay, tiger, I think you’d better slow down.” Mas’s voice penetrated the tide of lust, and Perry halted, panting hard.

“What’s wrong? I thought…this is what you wanted.” Oh God, had he misinterpreted? Had Mas really just been idly flirting like he did with everyone? The blood rushed from Perry’s groin to his cheeks. He let go of Mas, only now realising just how tightly he must have been gripping him. It was no wonder Mas wanted him to stop. It must have been like being mauled by a wild animal. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I don’t normally behave like that.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m not.” Mas laid a hand on his arm. “For what it’s worth, I love a bit of rough. But I was just on the verge of dropping to my knees and sucking you off, and I thought perhaps you might like your first time with a man to be somewhere more comfy. You know, like a bed.”

“Umm, I don’t know.” Now that his rational brain was kicking in, Perry could think of a hundred reasons why he didn’t want there to be a first time with a man at all. Especially not a man he was supposedly going into business with. It would just make life even more ridiculously complicated than it was already.

“I apologise if I’ve misled you in any way, but I’m not gay.”

Chapter Seventeen

Who did Perry think he was fooling? God save Mas from confused “straight” men. Always more trouble than they were worth, they really were.

“Not gay? You could have fooled me.” Mas gave a very pointed look at Perry’s groin. “That definitely wasn’t a bunch of keys in your pocket getting jiggy with my thigh. I thought you were about to rip a hole in my jeans, you were grinding so hard.”

“I can’t control my body’s reactions.”

“Exactly. And your body doesn’t seem to give a rat’s arse whether it goes with men or women. That’s all I’m saying.”

Perry looked so bewildered that Mas took pity on him. “Look, ignore me. What do I know about what you’re going through? You take as much time as you want to figure it out. There’s no rush, is there?”

“I think… I think I’m going to go upstairs. Need something to eat. Maybe a lie down.”

“Yeah, good idea. You’re looking paler than a snowman that’s just seen a really fucking spooky ghost. I’m just gonna get on with sorting shit out downstairs. You happy for me to sell anything in here? And I might need to lug some of the stuff from downstairs up here to get it out of the way. I’ve got some serious remerchandising to be getting on with.”

“Fine. Just, do whatever you need to do. I don’t mind.” Perry looked like he wanted to do a runner, but he just stood there instead, staring at Mas. Was this his bloody weird posh manners again?

“Well clear off, then. You said you needed to eat.”

“Right, yes, of course. If you’re all right. You’re not…hurting?”

“I can take a bit of rejection. Wouldn’t be the first time, and I’m not some emo little flower.”

Perry coloured and wrung his hands. “I meant physically.”

“What, besides the back ache from sleeping on that bloody awful excuse for a bed last night? Nah, I’m fine.”

Perry seemed to take that at face value, and his shoulders sagged with relief as he darted for the door.

Mas loitered there a moment longer, staring after him. Who’d have known there was such a needy, lusty beast hiding inside Perry? It might be currently cowering behind the sofa, but Mas reckoned with the right bait he’d be able to lure it out again.

Being bait. Now that was something Mas knew all about. He wriggled his arse a little as he got down to some serious multitasking: making the shop look blinding, while simultaneously figuring out the best ways to tempt Perry’s lust-beast to pounce.

The morning passed quickly in the upstairs stockroom. After a couple of hours, Mas had moved a bunch of empty suitcases downstairs, filled them with all the excess stock from the upper rails, then brought them back up again and stacked them neatly. He’d also dismantled the upper sections of the rails in both rooms—fortunately they came apart easily just by unscrewing a couple of wing nuts—and located a number of items he wanted to display on the now-bare upper walls of the two rooms, along with a bunch of window-display props.

He was just zipping a beautiful silk tea dress emblazoned with peach cabbage roses over the dummy when a tap on the window behind him made him jump. Lewis, the bastard.

“You nearly made me rip the dress,” Mas complained as he opened the door. “Vintage fabrics can be fragile, you know.”

“Good morning to you too. Come on. You look like you need a break, and I’ve got coffee.”

Not just coffee but a big bag of those sweet little Turkish pastries Jasper was addicted to. It was a reminder that he’d skipped breakfast, and for the next few minutes, Mas couldn’t think about anything other than filling his stomach.

“That’s the way to shut you up for a few minutes, then? I’d never realised it would be so easy.”

Mas flipped Lewis the bird, but all he did was smile in that annoyingly calm way of his.

“So what’s all this in aid of?” Mas asked when he’d searched out every last pastry crumb from the paper bag.

“Jasper asked me to look in and see how you were doing.”

“Might have known you’d been browbeaten into it.”

“I’ll take the coffee back if you’re going to be rude.”

Mas reached for the coffee, but Lewis beat him to it. Mas rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I’m just a bit knackered, that’s all. Been on the go all morning.”