“You’ll see.” I rode almost to the end before parking in front of my little house.
“Is this yours?” He dismounted the Harley, removed his helmet, and studied the little villa with an interested eye.
I set the Harley on its stand and joined him, more than a little nervous. “Yep. Bought and paid for, although the bank owns most of it.” I badly wanted him to like it. After all, it was him I pictured on that front porch with me. But having him stand in front of the place, in front of a fantasy future I already pictured in my head, was kind of surreal.
His expression gave nothing away, and when he didn’t say anything either, I started to worry. Was it a mistake bringing him there? Would my boring suburban dreams send him running for the hills? Ugh. Of course they would. What was I thinking? I’d fucked up. And I was about to apologise when—
“It’s lovely.” He almost whispered the words as he strolled along the sidewalk, studying the house from every angle.
I let out the breath I was holding and joined him. “You really think so?”
He turned to me with soft eyes. “I do. It’s very you.”
I frowned and looked back at the villa. “It is? My brother thinks it’s too cutesy for a big guy like me.”
Chris slid his hand around my waist, and I slung an arm over his shoulder. And we stood there like that, staring at the house.
“Then he doesn’t know you very well,” he added after a minute. “You’re soft as butter on the inside. And why the hell shouldn’t you have a pretty house? Men are allowed to have pretty things.”
“I know.” I kissed the top of his head. “I have you, after all.”
He looked up at me with flushed cheeks. “Well, I think it’s a great house.” He ignored my comment. “And I can see you playing your guitar on that porch.”
I can see you with me.But what I said was, “That’s the first thing I thought when I saw it. Not sure about the colour though.” We both considered the pale green and white palette.
“No.” Chris pulled a face and tilted his head as he scrutinised the property. “Maybe a soft peach and cream?”
I smiled and pulled him against me. “That’s a great idea. You’re hired.”
“I’m wha—”
“Leon?” The wife of the owner couple waved to us from the front door. “You can bring your boyfriend inside for a look, if you like.”
Shit.I winced and squeezed Chris’s shoulder. “We don’t have to—”
“It’s fine.” He grabbed my hand. “Although I’m beginning to wonder if I have the damn word tattooed on my forehead. Nobody warns you about this.”
I chuckled and led him grumbling up the path to meet the current owners, somewhat surprised when they oohed and aahed and fussed over him like he was their own. He shot me a few helpless panicked looks that I dutifully ignored. It was... nice, seeing him fussed over by an affectionate apron-clad septuagenarian. There wasn’t a guy alive who deserved a little tender mothering more than Chris, and I watched with amusement as he was bustled into a chair, handed a napkin, and fed coffee and homemade sponge drops with raspberry jam and cream.
Eventually he relaxed and a soft pink stole into his cheeks along with a quiet smile in his eyes. It was a good look, one I wanted to see a lot more of, and I knew that if we lasted, my own parents would provide all that and more, if only Chris would let them.
An hour later, and enough sponge drops to require me upping my gym attendance, and we were headed back to Flare, a much mellower version of Chris at my back. Me too, and I couldn’t have been happier. For a day that had started as a potential shitshow of epic proportions, it had turned out kind of amazing.
That spark of hope that had taken up residence in my gut was flickering madly, and I was almost ready to fan it. Chris had said he was trying, had been surprised that I’d thought he might walk away, and had cared for me after the lunch with my parents in a way I’d never expected. It was damned hard not to get my hopes up. I wanted this. I wanted him. I wanted it all.
I parked out back of Flare, and we hustled up to the flat intent on nefarious deeds. But before we got to the bedroom my phone went off and Jenn’s name flashed up on the screen.
“Damn. I should get this.” I pulled free of Chris’s hand. “Hey, Jenn. What’s up?”
Chris ran a playful fingertip down my chest to my hardening dick.
I slapped it away and mouthed, “Behave.”
“Can you take Susie for an hour?” Jenn sounded distracted, but my attention was locked on Chris who was slowly stripping his clothes into a pile on the floor, adding an inviting wiggle of his tush for good measure. I shot him a mock glare and headed to the kitchen.
“I have to go pick up Kevin from his rugby after-match out by the airport and Susie’s been fussing all day. She’ll be a nightmare in the car and your parents are out at golf. I’ll pick her up on the way back.”
Chris walked past in nothing but a smile, and I groaned.