Isle of Waves (26 page)

“I don’t know. Want me to try again?”

“Get lost, both of you. We’ll be down in five.” Nibs smiled at Wig. “There’s no rush.”

Wig wrapped his legs around Nibs’s waist. “My thoughts exactly, babe.” He kissed Nibs again. Five minutes was good. Ten was even better.

B
EN
AND
Sam rolled their eyes when Wig and Nibs eventually came downstairs. Maybe five minutes had turned into thirty-five minutes.

“Morning, boss.” Karen waltzed over to Wig and gave him a kiss.

“Morning, darling.” He hugged her and looked at the restaurant. “Are we ready to open up?”

“Some of us have been ready for an hour,” Sam bitched.

“Forty minutes, and some of us were working late last night whilst others were lazing around on their fat arses.”

Sam looked over his shoulder. “My arse isn’t fat, is it?”

“Your arse is just fine, love.” Liam patted it gently.

“Where are you today?” Wig asked Sam who pulled a face.

“I’ve got to work on the Sawar account.”

One of the strangest issues to come out of the whole affair was Ghuram Sawar approaching Sam to do his accounts. Sam had been contemplating wrapping up his accountancy business, but he suddenly found himself being approached by Ghuram and his relatives. Their combined work kept Sam busy most of the week. Liam still worked in the Lagoon. He had contemplated retraining but had finally admitted that until his health improved, he was unlikely to hold down a job without understanding bosses like Wig and Nibs.

Nibs had taken a long time to come to a decision, but his diabetes settled down, and he finally admitted that he wasn’t ready to leave the restaurant business entirely. He had even discussed, although only on the vaguest terms, buying out the Sawar’s old place and expanding the Lagoon, which would have been ironic in the extreme. Wig wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he wasn’t about to put a dampener on Nibs’s revived spirits.

Karen was offered her old job from Easter, which she snapped up so hard she nearly bit off Wig’s hand, and there was a possibility of taking on some of the other old staff.

The only fly in the ointment was the lack of progress in their case of the break-ins. Wig found it hard to believe that there wasn’t one shred of evidence linking the Sawar cousins to the break-ins, but Sergeant Biggs assured them that was the case. Wig was tempted to ask Paul for his help, but Nibs had told him to butt out.

Wig sulked for several days after that, and Nibs only got back in his good books after spending an evening in handcuffs at Wig’s feet.

“Are you going over on the ferry?” Wig asked as he unlocked the door.

Sam shook his head. “No, I’m going to work upstairs, if that’s okay. It’s too noisy working in their unit. If you get busy and need a hand, just call. I can break for a while.”

“Cool.”

Liam handed Sam a mug of tea and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Off you go.”

Sam took a swig and grinned at Liam. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Now bugger off.”

“You sound like a proper Brit now, Liam,” Karen said as she walked past.

Liam bowed. “It’s all the practice I get.”

Sam disappeared upstairs, and two families wandered in with two young kids holding hands.

Wig blinked a little when he realized they were two boys, but neither parent seemed fazed, and when the boys spotted the toys in the corner, they dropped hands and ran over, chattering loudly as they started playing.

“Good morning,” he said to the two couples. One of the dads yawned and apologized. “Sorry, we had a late night. Then they dragged us out early this morning.”

His wife elbowed him in the ribs. “It’s their last day together, Steve. No wonder they’re excited.”

He glared at her. “Enough, woman. You’ve got sharp elbows.”

“Are they good friends?”

“They only met this week. It’s like they’ve known each other all their lives.” The mum, sweet looking with a heart-shaped face, smiled rather sadly as she looked at her son. “It’s a shame we don’t live closer together. Our sons find it hard to make friends, and yet one minute together and they are friends for life.”

Wig watched the two boys play. He didn’t want to see things that weren’t there, but he could remember school from an early age as being a very lonely time in his life.

The other mother, a stunning redhead, looked in his eyes as she said, “We come here to show them that they aren’t alone.”

“Show them, or you?”

“Both.” She didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. “It’s hard for us to help our boy. Meeting Linzi and Clive has been a revelation.”

“I’ll introduce you to the guys after your breakfast. There’s three couples here today.”

“We realized what you were the first time we came in here.”

Wig was ashamed to admit that he didn’t recognize them, but the place had been so busy, he hadn’t had time to interact like he normally did. “Go take a seat near your boys. Ben will be your waiter, and Liam will take your drinks order.”

The door opened, and PC Dillon walked in with his partner. Wig smiled at them, and the redhead followed his gaze. Her eyes widened when she saw the two men. Wig wondered how she knew. He thought the two men looked like librarians—good-looking librarians, but straight as they come. Wig smiled and excused himself to say hello to Dillon.

“Morning, Mark, Oliver. How are you?” They’d got on first name terms after the night of the break-in.

“We’re good, thanks.” He nodded to the four parents. “Is there going to be a problem with us being here?”

“If there was they would be the ones leaving, not you. But no, look at their boys.”

Dillon looked at the two boys playing together. “They look happy. Are they good friends?”

“They’ve only just met. Like cleaves to like. Their parents are feeling overwhelmed at knowing what their sons are. They just thought they were odd.”

“Poor little buggers,” Oliver said with feeling.

“Quite,” Wig said. “Would you like your usual?”

“Please. Have you got the papers?”

“I’m sure we have; ask Liam when he brings your drinks.” He left the two men to sit at their usual table.

Slowly the restaurant filled up with the early-breakfast crowd. Wig dealt with the odd crisis and occasional grumpy customer with the aplomb born of years of experience, but on the whole it was a reasonable shift. During a lull, he took a latte and stood on the decking, watching a ferry in the distance.

“Here you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Nibs stepped out with a drink in his hand.

Wig leant against his lover. “Hey, busy morning.”

“Start of the season. We’re not going to have time to scratch our arses for the next few months.”

“Hopefully.” After the past year, Wig had no expectations.

“Love you.” Nibs kissed him, not caring who was around.

“Love you too.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Nibs started.

“Careful.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to have a moment here.”

Wig smirked at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I ruining it?”

Nibs shoved his shoulder. “You’re a real brat.”

“Well, yeah. Of course I am. I thought you knew that.”

“I’ve known that for a very long time, and it doesn’t make any difference to me. I love your brattiness, and your sarcasm and your humor.”

“Thanks… I think.”

Wig wasn’t sure what was going on. Nibs was acting strangely.

“I love you, Wig. And I’m going to love you forever.” Nibs put his mug on the table and got down on one knee.

“Nibs, what the hell are you doing?”

“Will you marry me, Wig?”

“What?” Wig gaped at him.

“Will you marry me, Toby Tobias?” He held out his clutched fist and opened it up to produce a platinum band.

“But you never wanted to get married.”

“I do now. I don’t want to risk losing you to someone else.” Nibs stayed on his knee.

“As if that’s going to happen,” Wig scoffed. “You’re the only one for me. You always have been.”

“Well, then—”

“For God’s sake, hurry up. There’s food to be cooked.”

Wig looked up to see Liam and Sam, and Ben and Steve, standing in the doorway. “You knew about this?”

“Give the man an answer,” Sam ordered.

Wig placed a hand over the ring, but he didn’t take it. “If I marry you, do you promise never to look at another man?”

Nibs frowned. “Not even to check him out?”

“Not even to check him out.”

“I don’t think I can do that, babe.” Nibs looked distressed that he couldn’t make that promise.

Wig expelled a breath. “Thank fuck for that. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“You will? You don’t mind?”

“Jeez, I’m monogamous, not blind. I love window-shopping.”

Nibs got to his feet and smothered Wig in a hug. “I fucking love you, babe.”

With all the air pushed out of his lungs, Wig struggled to reply, but Nibs didn’t seem to need a reply. He just needed Wig exactly where he was.

“Is that it?” Ben asked.

“Go back to work, slaves.” Nibs let go his hold a fraction, and Wig drew in a breath.

“Nice,” Sam said. “I don’t think you ought to accept his proposal, Wig; he’s delusional.”

Wig wriggled free but gave Nibs a kiss by way of apology. “I’ve known that for years, Sam. Now where’s my ring?”

Nibs slipped the band on the ring finger of Wig’s left hand. “We’ll get married as soon as possible.”

“Oh no.” Wig shook his head.

“You don’t want to get married soon?”

“I waited this long. I want a big wedding with all our friends there.”

“You’ve got a bridezilla there,” Sam observed.

Nibs went ashen. “So we can’t have a small registry-office wedding?”

“No chance.” Wig stared at his finger. “Yummy. Where’s yours?”

“In the flat. I can’t wear it whilst I’m working.” Nibs grinned at him like a child. “You said yes. You fucking said yes!”

“Language, young man,” Bel said as she struggled up the steps.

“He said yes, Bel. Wig agreed to marry me.” Nibs hugged her hard and then hugged every one of the women from the bingo crowd.

Bel smoothed back her mussed hair. “Congratulations. He didn’t actually think you’d say no, did he?”

“I’d never say no to my man. Now, can I offer you a cuppa?” Wig held out his arm to Bel. “Shall we go in?”

“I’d be delighted.” Bel looked at Nibs. “Back in the kitchen, young man.”

Nibs sighed and looked at Wig. “We’ll carry on with this later.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He gave his fiancé a slow wink, seeing Nibs flush.

“You two are either adorable or sick. I can’t decide which,” Bel said.

“You say that every time, Bel. I bet your grandson is just the same.”

“He’s the village bike,” Bel said bluntly. “I despair of him ever settling down.”

Wig guided Bel into her seat. “Bel, you can’t call him that.”

“She’s right, though,” Maggie said. “That young man has had more men than the entire bingo crowd.”

“He sounds like my type of man.” Or he would have been twenty years ago. Now the only man—the big, burly bear—for him was frying eggs. Life had gotten very domestic.

“He’s not good enough to lick your boots,” Bel said bluntly.

“Because he won’t settle down?”

“Because he’s not a nice man. I don’t care if he has the entire Premiership and the referees. You have to be a good man. He’s a real disappointment. Rose Owens was very lucky with her family.”

“Even she had Paul,” Maggie pointed out.

“And look at him now.”

Wig escaped to the bar. “They’re all yours,” he said to Ben.

Ben grinned. “What’s the problem?”

“I’ve just been proposed to. I should be celebrating with Nibs, instead of serving people eggs and chips for another eight hours.”

“You complaining again, Tobias?” Liam was beginning to sound like his husband.

Wig scowled at him. “I feel like Cinderella without the glass slipper.”

“So you’re going to wear a big, sparkly dress at your wedding?” Liam asked.

“I’d rock a sparkly wedding dress.” Wig sniffed. “I’d wear it if I could get away with it.”

“You can definitely get away with it.”

Wig took time to contemplate it. He would love to outrage all the old biddies on the island. Actually, the old biddies would probably help him find the dress. The opposition came from others, some of the churches. Wig curled his lip in annoyance. He really had to think about the sparkles.

“Boss! Why didn’t you wait for me?” Karen squealed and ran up to him. “You got married, and no one told me.”

“He proposed, you daft cow,” Wig said fondly.

She smacked her lips on his cheek. “And you said yes.”

“I love him.”

Karen laughed. “Well, duh. We all know that. I’ve never met anyone—well, bar all the happy gay guys that surround us—as happy as you and Nibs. You make the rest of us look positively miserable.”

Wig beamed. “I’m going to go and kiss my fiancé. Then when the Lagoon is closed, we’re going to break out a bottle of champagne and celebrate.”

“Sounds good to me.” She patted him on the backside. “Now go and visit the big man in the kitchen and get your arse back in here. We have a job to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her and almost ran into the kitchen.

Nibs looked up from where he was chopping lettuce. “Is everything all right, babe?”

“I just wanted one of these.” He dragged Nibs into a hug.

“Mind the knife!” Steve relieved Nibs of the sharp knife.

Nibs wrapped his arms around his lover and kissed him until Wig’s knees buckled and he was breathless.

“You are the most amazing man I have ever met,” Wig said when Nibs finally let go. “It is an honor to be your fiancé.”

Nibs’s eyes were suspiciously bright but he said, “You couldn’t have said that outside instead of giving me all that shit?”

“You just sprang it on me. What was I supposed to do?” Wig protested.

“Dick,” Nibs said fondly.

“Tosser.”

Wig gave him a look. “Well, yeah!”

“Beer, chips, and the ball gag later?”

Steve groaned. “Do we really need to be hearing this?”

“You can shut up,” Wig said. “You”—he pointed at Nibs—“can buy me dinner at the French restaurant.”