Come to think of it, Calum did remember a posh gift bag appearing at the studio a few days ago, though it had been swiftly whisked away from Lena’s eagle eye. “So what did you drag me out here for?”
Lee shrugged and stepped towards the bar. “I saw Brix go out looking a bit glum. Figured you might want to follow him without causing a scene.”
Calum hadn’t noticed Brix leave, too caught up in his blue-handprints-and-naked-Brix fantasies. He left Lee ordering herself a bucket of vodka and dashed outside, half afraid of what he’d find. Brix had seemed on good form of late, but a few days had passed since they’d hashed it out—sexually speaking—in the Lusmoore cave, and despite sharing Brix’s bed every night, they hadn’t talked about sex since.
Kissed enough, though . . .
Calum quelled the instant heat in his blood. Kissing Brix, touching him, holding him, was—Jesus—it was fucking incredible, but Brix’s demons remained. How could they not when he’d lived with them for so long?
Calum scanned the pub’s car park, searching for any sign of Brix—his tall, lean frame and slender shoulders, his battered leather jacket and windswept hair—but there was nothing. The car park was utterly deserted. Calum walked to the entrance and glanced up and down the road, his gaze coming to rest on the outland road leading back to the sea. He’d never given much thought to the oceans surrounding the British Isles before he’d come to Porthkennack, but it was all he could think of while he pondered where Brix might be. Somehow, Brix and the sea had become one and the same.
“You waiting for a bus?”
“Wha—” Calum whirled around, his stomach in his mouth, though his heart already knew he’d find Brix behind him, smirking that damn crooked smirk that turned Calum’s brain to mushy peas. “You fucker. I was looking for you.”
“Up the road? I was six feet away from you five minutes ago. Where on earth did you think I’d gone?”
“Er . . .” Calum couldn’t find a sensible answer. He settled for holding out his hand and coaxing Brix closer.
Brix took his hand and stepped into his arms. Calum squeezed him gently. “Lee sent me after you. She said you were, uh, glum. Something like that.”
“‘Glum’?” Brix snorted. “She’s taking the piss. She’s been on at me all day about us shagging. Reckons you need to get laid. If only she knew, eh?”
“Knew what? That there’s more to life than getting dicked?”
Brix chewed his bottom lip briefly before he relaxed again. “You know what I meant.”
“Uh-huh.” Calum buried his face in Brix’s hair. It smelled of wood smoke and beer. “Doesn’t mean I have to live with you giving yourself a hard time. I told you, I don’t care about the sex. I just want you to be happy.”
“I’m as happy as I’ve been in forever, Cal. Don’t mean I can stop thinking about fucking you, though.”
Calum blushed, glad the darkness hid the worst of it. “Who says you have to stop thinking about it?”
“Me, I guess. I’m starting to feel like a pervert.”
Calum had no answer to that either. He smiled into Brix’s hair, wondering if the flowing cider had wounded the demon in Brix’s mind, and then if he could kiss Brix yet. He’d drunk his fair share of nuclear local ale tonight, so the slippery slide from one thought to the next made an odd kind of sense. “I want to kiss you.”
Brix looked up, his eyes mischievous. “So why haven’t you?”
“Because we’re in the pub car park? And your dad’s inside? And all your staff, and—”
“And what?” Brix shifted in Calum’s arms, leaning back so Calum could see him properly. “You think I care who sees us? Fuck no. I’ve got enough bullshit in my brain without worrying about that.”
“So—”
Brix leaned in and kissed Calum, lightly at first, but then harder, and the kiss quickly exploded into something that would be best kept behind closed doors, no matter who they were.
Calum stumbled, taking Brix with him, and collided with a nearby drystone wall. He lay back on it, hooking one leg around Brix’s waist, and opened his mouth, letting Brix’s tongue inside to dance with his.
Brix’s response stole his breath as their chests pressed together, their hips, and lower, and then he felt it—Brix’s dick grinding against his thigh, solid and long.
Calum gasped, breaking their kiss, and stared wildly at Brix. He’d felt Brix’s cock before, on that stormy night while the Porthkennack lifeboat crew had battled the high seas, but it seemed different now, like Brix meant for Calum to feel it. Like Brix wanted him to know it was there, hard and ready for whatever might happen.
Might happen. Two words that meant everything and nothing as Brix gazed down at him. Part of Calum had prepared himself for the real possibility that Brix would never be ready to fuck him. And, despite Brix’s determination in the cave that fateful day, Calum had accepted that any change in that was a long way off.
But something had changed in Brix’s eyes, and was still changing as Calum stared at him, even though he couldn’t quite decipher what it meant. Brix leaned down and kissed Calum again, but it was nothing like the kisses they’d shared before. In the cold, windy car park, the heat between them held a tangible presence, like Calum could reach out and touch it.
“Brix?”
