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Mylittle foibles. I knew what he meant. The reason I couldn’t work out if Caspian was gay or not. And why I had never had a boyfriend. I knew I was special and unique; I always had been, but only in an inconvenient way. So Nico’s answer made me happy and sad simultaneously.

Florian darted in and out of the bathroom in under three minutes. Though the conversation with my brother seemed endless, it actually only lasted about forty-five seconds. Florian’s trip to the loo couldn’t have been that urgent a need. In his absence, as well as informing me my entire immediate family was abreast of my sexual orientation, even the deceased member, Nico ordered them both another beer.

Florian took a satisfied gulp before retaking his seat. “Yep,” he said, wiping foam from his mouth. “As I suspected. Gay as a badger.”

Sometimes, I thought Nico and Florian had their own language. Badgers weren’t gay. Not all of them, anyhow. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be any left. Nonetheless, Florian had confirmed my suspicions.

“Go on then,” urged Nico. “Go over and say hello. He keeps looking over here.”

“I’m homosexual,” I explained to Florian. He’d missed an important part of the conversation.

“No shit.” He treated me to the killer smile. “Welcome to the family.”

I felt bolder in the pub than in my own home, so I got up. Which was the wrong way around, though two pints of Warsteiner might have had something to do with it. Beer lubricated my throat and often helped my voice work better. Also, Caspian was smiling at me with his eyes and his lovely pale cheeks. His whole face, in fact.

“I was hoping you’d come and say hi,” he said in greeting. “I was just telling Emma all about the amazing objects you craft out of the bits and pieces you find on the beach.”

Compliments were a strong sign someone was interested in you. A basic flirting technique; I’d read about it inPerfect Peach. An appropriate response would be to compliment him in return.

“You have perfectly shaped earlobes.” To back up my words, I showed him my good teeth.

The woman, Emma, took a noisy slurp of her wine and coughed on it.

“Thank you.” Caspian smiled back, and we stayed that way for a few seconds. He also had a perfectly shaped head, I noticed, but decided to save that one for another day. Appearing too keen was a no-no, according toPerfect Peach,and, also, I didn’t trust my voice; it was a lot of words.

“Goodness, is it that late already?” Emma checked the time on her phoneafterspeaking, which was a pretty neat trick. “Early night for me. Stay and have another one, Caspian, with… um… Max, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Is Emma your girlfriend,” I asked after she’d gone.Trust but verifywas my motto as far as Nico and Florian were concerned. They’d enjoyed tricking me into saying and doing plenty of daft things when I was younger.

“No.” A small smile played on his lips. “She’s in a very long-distance relationship with a woman in Sydney. We were just talking about that, too. They’re meeting up soon in Amsterdam.”

“So she’s homosexual,” I clarified. “I’m homosexual, too,”

Caspian lifted his mostly empty glass of brandy to his mouth, pausing before he took a sip. Which was problematic. Now I had to split my attention between his left ear, his eyes, and his mouth. Oh, and his smooth throat, because when he swallowed, his Adam’s apple moved up and down and I’d never found anyone’s Adam’s apple attractive before, but now I suddenly did.Perfect Peachhadn’t warned me aboutthat.

“Good for you.” He threw me a look even I managed to interpret as hungry. “Seems like there’s quite a few of us drinking in here tonight.”

CHAPTER 10

CASPIAN

After my latest contretemps with Leigh, half a bottle of local rosé, ripe with overtones of self-pity and a lingering aftertaste of melancholy, had gone down very nicely. As had the swift brandy chaser, brimming with bass notes of righteous anger. I wasn’t much of a drinker as a rule, but right now, my regular evening tipple at L’Escale felt like the only dab of glue holding my shit together.

All afternoon, I’d drowned in my own overthinking, and the stinging fresh cut on my thigh reminded me of it every time I moved. Hence the appearance of my stalker/hero/fetish fantasy/psychokiller was a very welcome diversion.

As was tonight’s choice of white T-shirt. If it clung any tighter to his magnificent frame, he’d be wearing it on the inside. Physically, the guy was a perfect blend of everything I could never resist back in the days before my libido jumped into the same filing cabinet as my divorce papers and made a home there. Since that horrific sequence of life events, Max had been the only guy tempting it to peek out again.

Watching him moisten his lips like he was building up to deliver a rare speech, I was getting the distinct impression the feeling was mutual. From anyone else, that sliver of a kiss on my doorstep each evening would have been nothing more than a matey goodnight, but I sensed very strongly that Max didn’t do casual mateyness.

However, just because my dick was paying attention didn’t mean the rest of me should. Did I really need another complication? Except, why would he be? As Emma had pointed out, he was very different to Leigh. Inviting Max to pin me up against a wall and take me apart until the whole village knew his name would certainly be a welcome respite from ruminating on my usual internal soup. Or would Max just become an extra ingredient?

In the end, I let the brandy make the decision for me and tugged on a dangling blue rubber sleeve. “Off somewhere special later?”

He regarded me blankly. “Yes. Home.”

“I know.” I threw him my best smile. “I was only teasing you.”

If my perfectly shaped left earlobe hadn’t been so riveting, I’d swear he almost smiled back. He licked his lips again. “If I was hitting the town, I’d be wearing my red sequinned waders.”

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