Authors: Jane Davitt,Alexa Snow
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #gay, #LGBT, #BDSM LGBT, #erotic romance, #BDSM, #erotic romance; gay; LGBT; BDSM
remember?”
Shane nodded and said succinctly, “Square food.”
Ade was never going to live that down. “That’s the one. He promised to listen out
for any auctions that might be useful for us—tables, chairs, kitchen equipment—and he
says there’s one on Friday at three o’clock, at Faraday’s Auction House. It’s about an
hour away. I’ve gone there in the past when I was looking for bits and pieces for my
place.” Ben raised his eyebrows, willing Shane to agree to go with him. He wanted
them to do something together that didn’t involve fighting or bone-melting lust.
Something he understood. “I can take a half day. We could drive out there together,
have lunch, then go to the auction. They deliver too, if we do buy anything. It’s not
cheap, but it would save us hiring a van, and they do all the loading and unloading.
What do you think?”
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“I think it sounds like a modern form of torture,” Shane sighed. “Yeah, all right,
fine. Let’s do it. Since you’re so determined to have things your way, who am I to
argue? But you’re buying lunch.”
“I can live with that,” Ben said and set about scribbling down the details on a
piece of paper.
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Chapter Eight
Shane was feeling a bit like a teenage girl, or at least what he imagined a teenage
girl might feel like on the verge of a first date. Not that going to a work-related auction
counted as a date, but it might be the closest thing to one he and Benedict would ever
have. It was impossible to know what Benedict was thinking, and while normally that
drove Shane mad, in this case he found it intriguing.
He’d considered lounging upstairs in his flat until Benedict arrived to pick him
up, forcing Benedict to climb the staircase to collect him, but in the end decided that
was taking things a bit too far and trudged downstairs to lean against the front of the
building.
Benedict was on time—no surprise there—and didn’t get out when he pulled up
in his car. “Hey,” he said as Shane got in. “Ready for an afternoon of excitement?”
“You’ve been at the Peg on a Friday night. You ought to know this will pale in
comparison.” Shane found himself grinning.
“Well, this should be less likely to break out into a drunken brawl,” Benedict
admitted, pulling out onto the street. “Seat belt.”
“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re one of those,” Shane groaned.
“I’m one of those,” Benedict said without emotion. “Put it on.”
Shane obeyed slowly, so Benedict wouldn’t forget it was in protest. “Your mum
made you wear a helmet when you went ice skating, didn’t she?”
“She hardly knew what I was up to most of the time.” Benedict glanced at him
and smiled. “One of the benefits of growing up in a broken home. She was always
working, so I got away with a lot.”
“Yeah, it was like that for me too.”
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Benedict gave an inquiring grunt, encouraging Shane to expand without pushing.
Because he didn’t feel boxed-in or pressured, Shane decided to share. “Never really
knew my dad. In and out of prison most of the time, petty theft, nothing big, and when
he was home he did as little as possible and drank or gambled his dole money away.
Real charmer. Except he was, because my mum would never divorce him. Can’t say I
knew what she saw in him.”
“Sounds unpleasant,” Benedict said after a pause. Shane supposed he’d made
Benedict feel uncomfortable.
“Could’ve been worse,” Shane said lightly. “One of my friends had a dad who
was too friendly, if you get my drift.”
“God. That’s just—” Benedict shook his head, his hands gripping the wheel
tightly. “How can people be like that?”
“Dunno. Don’t care. Just wish they weren’t living on the same planet as me.”
Shane sniffed. “Course, my dad said much the same to me when I told him I was into
lads, not girls. Not one of your tolerant, live-and-let-live types. A Pakistani family
moved in two doors down, and if he hadn’t gone away for a six-month stretch a week
later, he’d probably have chucked a brick through their window as his version of a
welcome basket. Luckily for them, they had a win on the lottery and moved to a
semidetached before he got out.”
“Your mom must’ve been nice,” Benedict offered.
Shane worked that through and decided he’d been complimented. He smiled, the
shadows of the past thinning. “Yeah, she’s all right. Daft cow’s still convinced the sun
shines out of my dad’s backside, but that’s never gonna change. I talk to her now and
then. Birthday, Christmas. She never asks if I’m coming home, though.”
“Do you want to?”
“What, go home? I like it here well enough. I’m settled. No need to go traveling
around the world just to end up back where I started.”
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“That’s an interesting way to look at it.” Benedict sounded doubtful. “You must
have friends back there you miss?”
“Not really. Just a boyfriend, and I followed him here.” Shane wasn’t sure why he
was talking about any of this. He wasn’t much at sharing. “He wanted to go to
university here, and I wanted to be with him. Would have gone to the moon if he’d
asked me.” He found himself smiling ruefully.
“What happened?”
“What always happens. We broke up, he went back to England, and I stayed here.
I’d got licensed as a bartender by then, and I’d been working at the Peg for a couple of
years. And to be honest I didn’t fancy the idea of going home in disgrace.”
Benedict gave him a look that might have been concern. “Why disgrace?”
“Well, because none of them were happy about the way I left.” Shane ducked his
face to hide any hint of flush in his cheeks. “There may have been an impassioned
speech about true love.”
“From you? I don’t believe it.” Benedict reached over and patted Shane’s knee.
“I’m kidding. It’s cool. It’s sweet to think of you all young and head over heels.”
“Sweet?” Shane snorted. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think Romeo’s going to give up
his day job over me. Looking back, I was more in lust than love. The guy gave great
head. What do you say over here? He could suck the chrome off a bumper or something
like that?”
“You’re always deflecting,” Benedict said, changing lanes and speeding up as if to
underline his words with the roar of the engine. “I know what it’s like when you’re
young, and yes, the sex is intense, but the romance is the important bit. The feeling
you’ve met the person who completes you. It doesn’t last, and you feel stupid for
getting it so wrong, but at the time…”
“I didn’t know what love was,” Shane said flatly. Benedict wasn’t being
perceptive, he told himself, just generalizing, but it still made him feel as if he were
under a bright light. “Neither did he. Not sure anything’s changed since then. Maybe
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I’m just not the type to fall for someone. I’ll settle for getting laid when I can. Got no
time for all the hearts and flowers.”
It was a warning, but he wasn’t sure if it was directed at Benedict or himself.
Benedict was quiet for a moment. “So I was thinking,” he said slowly, “about this
place I used to like. I haven’t been there for a while, but it was good. You game?”
“As long as it’s not sushi,” Shane said.
“Yeah, you don’t strike me as the sushi type. Don’t worry. It’s regular food.”
Shane snorted. “What’s that mean?”
“I don’t know, normal for here, I guess. Burgers, chicken, classy salads for women
who are too embarrassed to eat a meal in front of a date. They used to have this lemon
dessert thing that was out of this world.” There was a faraway look in Benedict’s eyes,
as if he was remembering a better time. It made Shane want to laugh at him, which in
turn made Shane feel like a prat.
“Sure,” he said. “Sounds good.”
By the time they’d reached the restaurant and been shown to their seats, Shane
was on edge to the point where he didn’t like being around himself. He chose a burger
and fries at random from a long list of choices. Maybe it was like this back home now,
with even something as simple as a burger complicated by the potential addition of one
of three types of cheese, or bacon, or mushrooms. He doubted it, though. Here, a
proliferation of options seemed to be expected, along with portions that made him feel
uneasy. He’d been brought up to finish everything on his plate, but the amount on that
plate was obscene. Shane hated waste, but he kept himself trim, the memory of his
dad’s beer belly overflowing his belt enough incentive.
He fiddled with the saltshaker until he’d spilled some and had to toss a pinch over
his shoulder, bringing a grin from Benedict. He slid his hands under his thighs to keep
himself from fidgeting.
“If I ask what’s wrong, will it make it worse?”
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“Depends on why you’re asking.” Shane scanned Benedict’s face, seeing nothing
but concern in his brown eyes. Kind eyes, but he liked them better when they were
focused on him for a different reason and held nothing but desire. He could cope with
Benedict fancying him. That wasn’t anything new. He understood arousal. “Don’t go
psycho-fucking-analyzing me, and we’ll get along fine.”
Benedict’s eyebrows shot up. “Was that what I was doing? I thought we were
playing a game of whose dad screwed us up more. If I say you win, can we go back to
enjoying my afternoon off?”
Belatedly, Shane remembered Benedict had taken some precious time off work to
do this. Well, he supposed he had too, but it wasn’t quite the same. He’d had an
exciting afternoon of laundry planned. If the thrill of that hadn’t overwhelmed him, he
might’ve gone wild and cleaned the bathroom before soap scum covered every square
inch of the bath.
He gave Benedict a remorseful smile. “Sorry. I’m a miserable bastard at times.” He
nodded at the room. “They’ve done a good job with this place. Classy but casual. Nice.”
And boring enough to give him indigestion, but he was being polite, not truthful.
“Yes, it is.” Benedict leaned forward, his face lighting up. “Don’t you think that
could be a good direction for the bar?”
Christ
. “If I did, I’d have done it by now.”
“You didn’t have the resources.” Which was a polite way of saying that Shane was
broke. “Now we do. If it’ll turn things around—”
“Can’t we do something else?” Shane sounded desperate, and he knew it, but it
was difficult to be angry in the face of Benedict’s enthusiasm. “Hire a popcorn machine?
Put in a…a cigar bar?”
“I’m pretty sure there are laws about smoking,” Benedict said.
“A clown to make balloon animals?” Shane asked, an edge to his voice now.
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“For all the parents who like to bring their kids when they go out drinking,”
Benedict agreed. “Did something happen when we were in the car? Some kind of
mental breakdown? Because no one warned me about that when we got thrown
together.” He was studying Shane’s face, probably for a hint of humor.
Shane’s face was burning. This was embarrassing. He kept his voice low. “Look, I
know it’s your money we’re using—”
“Can we pretend it isn’t? Please?”
Benedict was frowning now, his lips pressed tightly together. Stern and
forbidding was a good look on him, Shane thought. Well, it was when he knew what a
thin coating it was. Scratch Benedict and you’d be down to kind and well-meaning in
no time. Shame he was so fucking clueless along with it.
“I don’t want this to be an issue between us. We’ve agreed that unless we do
something, the bar’s going under, and we both lose out if that happens. I have some
capital to invest, and you’ll pay me back out of your share of the profits when you can.
It’s not a favor, and it’s not charity. It’s a business deal, plain and simple.”
“No, it’s a gamble.” Shane didn’t like the way Benedict seemed to think a splash of
paint and new chairs would magically fill the bar from opening to closing every day.
“You could lose every penny. I’d be out of a job, but you’d be—”
“Exactly where I was a few weeks ago. I never counted on inheriting anything
from Craig, and that includes his life insurance money. If I lose it, well, I’m no worse
off. And yes, it’s a gamble, but it’s one I’m willing to take. Now stop trying to be funny,
and tell me what you want the theme of the bar to be since you obviously don’t like my
suggestions. We need to agree on this before we buy any furniture.”
Shane sat back as their food was placed in front of them, welcoming the pause in
their conversation. He couldn’t fault Benedict’s sincerity, and the man was being
considerate in treating them as equal partners, but he didn’t feel like one. He couldn’t