Page 78 of Playing to Win

“Weird. They made me go taps aff for every shot.”

“Wise folk.” Andrew closed his eyes to better picture a shirtless Colin posing under the glare of a flash bulb.

“Most of us got spray tans, courtesy of the calendar people. Must have cost a fortune to make a bunch of Scots look like we’ve ever seen the sun. So we’re still on for tomorrow noon?”

“Of course,” Andrew said, trying not to sound reluctant. “A gentleman always pays his debts.”

“Hmm, I’ve a few debts of my own that need paid.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“After New York, I owe you a threesome. But since neither of us can handle it, I’ll just give you twice as much ‘me’ as usual.”

“I’d love that.” Andrew heard the breathiness in his own voice. “I miss you,” he added before he could stop himself.

“Oh. Well…” Colin coughed again. “Good.” He hung up.

“Ha! Caught you.”

Andrew turned to see his brother-in-law, Jeremy, approaching with a pair of cigars, one unlit.

He tucked away his phone. “I was just talking to my, er…”

“Boyfriend?”

“I’m not sure that’s what we are.”

Jeremy handed him the unlit cigar and pulled a lighter from the pocket of his dove-gray seersucker blazer. “How long have you been dating?”

“A month, roughly.” He smiled inside at the double entendre. Not every encounter had been rough—only when Andrew begged for it.

“Either of you seeing anyone else?”

“No.” He frowned at the thought of Colin in another man’s arms. “Not that I know of.”

“And I assume you’re not in the habit of taking casual acquaintances across the Atlantic to see their favorite Broadway shows.” Jeremy lit Andrew’s cigar with his lighter, shielding the flame from the swift sea breeze. “He’s your boyfriend, whether you admit it or not.”

“It’s complicated.” As Andrew took the first puff, he slipped a hand into his trouser pocket, fingers closing around the note Colin had given him on the plane:I don’t want to share you either.“He can’t be my boyfriend, no matter what we feel. He’s not…you know. One of us.” He spread his arms to encompass the gulet and its passengers.

“I wasn’t one of you. Sarah’s a commoner too.” He glanced back at their sister-in-law as he leaned against the railing beside Andrew and puffed his cigar. “Of course, she came with a gas-and-shale inheritance, which helped.”

“And you came with deep connections to the Conservative Party.”

Jeremy put a hand to his own chest in mock shock. “Surely you’re not suggesting your sister’s marriage was political?”

“If Elizabeth hadn’t wed you for love, then I would have.” Andrew batted his lashes, only half jesting. Years ago he’d had a bit of a crush on his shrewd-but-kindhearted brother-in-law. “You deserve it.”

“As do you.” Jeremy swiped a hand through his short chestnut hair, which was as meticulously coiffed on holiday as it was back home. “Talking of politics, I think it’s time to reassess our plan for you.”

“Which plan specifically?”

“The one keeping you above the referendum fray. We need you now, desperately.”

The solemnity in Jeremy’s dark eyes made Andrew’s smirk vanish. “What are you on about? Who needs me?”

“The Union.” Jeremy glanced around, then withdrew his own phone from his pocket. “A new YouGov poll’s been released.”

Andrew frowned. The gap between Yes and No had closed from fourteen points to six within the last two weeks. “What’s our lead now? Five?” When Jeremy didn’t nod, Andrew asked, “Four?” His heart began to pound. “Not three?” That could be a statistical tie, depending on the sample size.

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