Worth Keeping (21 page)

Nick realised he’d been holding a breath and he exhaled and drew a deep one. He was devastated that he’d made Owen relive one of the darkest moments of his life. “Owen, I—”

Owen shook his head fiercely. “Don’t say anything you don’t mean in the heat of the moment. Just know I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Whatever you need, we do it together. As long as you want me around.”

Nick reached out, cupping Owen’s cheeks in his hands. “I know I push you away. I’m not used to having anyone knowing about me and still accepting me for what I am. Sometimes you might just have to fight me for it. Please fight for me, Owen.” His voice trembled.

Owen stood up, pulling Nick into his arms and resting his mouth against Nick’s hair as pressed himself against his lover’s strong body. “I will, I promise. I love you.”

Three simple words buried themselves like slow flowering bulbs in Nick’s tortured heart as he wrapped his arms around Owen, hearing his heartbeat against his ear, feeling the strength and love emanating from him like heat from a fire. Nick couldn’t return the words yet. But perhaps when those bulbs started growing, with Owen’s love and caring, he might find he was able to.

Don arrived later that night, laden with food parcels. He looked like a manic Santa Claus grinning from ear to ear as Nick opened the door. He brushed past his son, plonking his burdens onto the kitchen counter before turning and pulling Nick into a bear hug that drove the breath from his lungs.

“I was in London earlier today and found this incredible shop which has all these goodies I thought you and Owen would enjoy. Proper Scottish shortbread, Eccles cakes, some decent smoked salmon ’cause I know Owen likes that and a few bottles of really good red wine. You boys can have a feast with all this stuff.”

Considering Nick had been expecting a real bollocking from Don for his self-administered sushi session, he was rather taken aback when Don simply sauntered through to the lounge to meet and greet Owen.

His boyfriend gave Don a resounding slap on the back and for a moment, Nick felt a little peeved that he wasn’t the focus of the two men’s attention. No sooner had he had that thought he felt churlish and stupid.

What the bloody hell is wrong with me? I’m becoming a really needy bastard.

He forced a smile on his face as Owen and Don walked back into the kitchen. Socks bounded out of his bedroom. He ignored Nick, choosing instead to jump on Don’s shoulder and chatter excitedly as he pulled at the man’s steel-grey hair. Nick felt a flicker of disappointment that he seemed to be persona non grata in Socks’s life too, even though he knew it was deserved.

Don laughed loudly. “You little rascal. I bought you something. Your favourite treat.” He rummaged around in the paper bags, pulling out a small plastic baggie of what looked like dried insects.

Owen pulled a disgusted face. “Ew. He eats those things?” He watched in fascination as Don opened the packet and spilled a few onto the kitchen table. Socks picked one up and chewed on it with relish. Don laughed.

“Dried grasshoppers. He loves these. I get them specially dried at a store in Ipswich.”

“I hope what’s in these bags is a damn sight more appetising than dead insects,” Owen muttered as he foraged in the bags.

Nick watched him absently, aware of Don’s eyes on him and wondering when the third degree would start about last night’s events.

Owen’s face creased into a huge grin when he saw the booty in the bags. He reached over, pulling Nick in for a quick kiss as he motioned to the packages Don had bought. “Your dad has been a real gem. He even bought me a bottle of Catena Alta.” Disbelievingly, Nick saw Owen actually rub his hands together in glee. He’d thought that only happened in second-rate villain movies. “What the hell is that?” Nick asked with a frown.

Owen looked shocked. “It’s a Cabernet Sauvignon from Argentina. Really delicious. I’ll do us lamb steaks and we can have it with that to do it justice.”

Nick was a little out of his depth. He had no idea about wines or when to drink them and here was his lover and his father smiling at each other in appreciation over a bottle of something fancy Don had picked up. He nodded his head uncertainly.

“Fine by me. I’m not a great connoisseur of wine.”

“No, you prefer whisky.” Owen chuckled at the scowl Nick gave him. The three men settled in the lounge, Don in the easy chair and Owen and Nick side by side on the couch.

“So, son.” Don leaned forward, his bushy eyebrows furrowed like caterpillars on his brow. “How are the cuts? Pain easing up?” His voice was non judgmental, just concerned.

Nick nodded. “I’ll live.”

Don gave a dry chuckle. “Glad to hear it.”

Nick didn’t miss the flexing of Don’s fingers, a habit he knew the man did when he was nervous or angry. “Don, at the risk of sounding like a broken record—to you both in fact—I’m sorry I lost the plot.”

His father regarded him with wise eyes. “Owen told me what sparked it off. To be honest with you, I’m not surprised it dredged up some bad feelings. It’s a terrible case. The guys that are working on it are traumatised too. I spoke to one of them yesterday about it. And they haven’t been through what you did. So I’m not condoning what you did. But I do understand.”

Nick felt a weight off his shoulders at Don’s words. “It was stupid. Thank God Owen found me.” Owen reached over to stroke Nick’s shoulder. Nick hesitated then reached his hand up to cover Owen’s and squeezed it. He held it there. “I can’t promise anything; you know that’s one thing I can never do. But with Owen here, I think things will be better.” He managed a faint smile. “He keeps me on the straight and narrow.”

Owen leaned in and kissed Nick’s damaged lips softly. “You’re damn right I will. Next time I won’t be so easy on you though, so be warned.”

Don sat back in his chair, looking more relaxed. “I feel better knowing he’s here too. Now can you one of you get me a bloody drink? A beer will do nicely.”

Owen grinned and stood up. “I’ll get it.” He took a beer out of the fridge, hunted for a glass and passed it to Don, who drank it thirstily then gave a large burp.

“That hits the spot.” He glanced up at Owen, looking slightly uncomfortable. “By the way, in the boot of my car there are a couple of boxes for you.”

There was confusion in Owen’s eyes and Nick wondered what Don had been up to.

“Boxes for me?” Owen’s eyes widened.

Don nodded. “Go take a look.” He rifled in his trouser pocket and handed Owen a large bunch of keys. “I thought I’d save you a trip down to that old storage place you and Nick wanted to go to.”

Owen took the keys, looked at Nick with an unfathomable expression and disappeared out the door.

Nick looked at Don. “You went to get his stuff from storage? The stuff he wanted of Jules’s?”

Even saying the words wrenched Nick’s heart. He knew it had been two years since Owen’s lover had died and that he’d only known Owen himself a few weeks but still the thought of Owen and Jules made him feel vulnerable. As if this ghost from the past might upset the delicate balance he and Owen had currently. Owen had said he loved Nick and Nick didn’t want that changing anytime soon. A small part of him felt irritation at Don’s interference.

Don nodded. “The man needs something from his past, Nick. I hope I didn’t mess up bringing it down here but when he spoke about last time Owen sounded like he needed it. Let’s move into the kitchen and wait for him.”

The two men sat in silence at the kitchen table, sipping their drinks and conversing about anything but the elephants in the room, Nick’s self-destruction and his fear that Owen might be lost to him in some way.

About fifteen minutes later the outside door opened. Owen came in, carrying a large brown cardboard box. His eyes were red rimmed and Nick’s heart sank. Owen had been crying. Cold air gusted into the room as Owen placed the box reverently down on the floor inside the kitchen and went back outside.

He returned with an old guitar, which he placed beside the box. He turned and closed the door, taking the chill out of the room. Owen ran his hands tenderly over the instrument and Nick’s heart lurched. Owen sat down beside Nick, twisting his hands, at a loss for words for the first time since Nick had known him.

Don cleared his throat. “They were marked ‘Jules’ and your dad was kind enough to come with me when I called him to tell him what I wanted. Nice chap, your dad. He was very worried about you but I told him you were in good hands and seemed to be settling in. He told me he’d helped you box up all that stuff originally so he knew what he was looking for. He said he had a feeling marking the boxes clearly with what was in them would come in handy one day.” Don nodded at the guitar. “He went and fetched that from your flat when he packed everything up. He said he knew you’d want it.”

Owen gave a faint smile as he looked across at Don. “Dad always was very organised. It didn’t seem like the thing to do at the time but now I’m glad he did.” He nodded his head and Nick saw the sheen of more tears in his eyes. “Thank you, Don. That was incredibly thoughtful of you. I’d been putting it off. It’s good to have something of Jules’s here with me.”

Nick stood up, moving over to the fridge and taking out a bottle of beer. He popped the lid off and drank it down. His hands were cold, his heart even colder with dread.

“Neil said he’d really like to see you, son.” Don regarded Owen compassionately. “He’s worried about you, him and your mother, especially with you being their only child. It’s not easy for a father to give someone space when they ask for it. Believe me I know. So do him a favour and go down and see them soon, will you? They miss you.”

Owen took a deep shuddering breath. “I’m going to London at the end of the month to see a friend. Perhaps I’ll make a trip to see the folks then.”

Nick tried to suppress the anger rising. He’d had no idea Owen was planning on going to the city and Nick wondered jealously who the ‘friend’ was. His back taut, he stood looking out at the dark skies outside. Someone moved up behind him and warm arms encircled his waist as a soft kiss was placed on the back of his neck.

“Nick, what I said last night to you still stands. The fact I have some of Jules’s things here with me doesn’t change that.”

Owen’s scent, masculine and spicy, drifted into Nick’s nostrils as he whispered in Nick’s ear. “So stop being all prickly and come and sit down. Please, honey. You’re alive and here with me and that’s all that matters.”

Nick closed his eyes tiredly, leaning back into the warmth of the man behind him. Owen’s body was comforting and solid, and the strength of the arms around him comforted him. There was no doubting the sincerity in his lover’s voice as his breath tickled his cheek. He nodded, turning to face Owen and kissing him gently on the lips.

“I know. I just—”

Owen raised fingers to Nick’s lips, effectively sealing off the words. “You just get all needy and insecure. I like that.” His words contained a smile and despite himself, Nick grinned. He let Owen lead him back to the couch in the lounge and sat down, as Owen curled up like a cat next to him, his hands placed protectively on his. Don had followed and watched them both. Nick saw the look in his eyes, directed at Owen, of gratitude and relief. Don drained his beer and stood up.

“I’m going to get off and let you two lovebirds be alone. I’m staying at Heather’s—
on her couch—
” His fierce words were a warning to them both to say anything and Owen and Nick both sniggered like naughty schoolboys. “And I’ll be here for a few days. Oh and Nick? Heather wants you to see her for a chat.”

Nick’s face darkened. “I don’t need any more therapy sessions, Don. Last night was just an isolated incident.”

Don’s face was unwavering. “Nick, I don’t ask for much and I give you plenty of leeway. But this time, I’d really like it if you could see your way to speaking to her. As much as you need your space, I need some reassurance too.”

To anyone else, Don probably sounded the same as he always did, but Nick noticed the slight falter in his voice as he said, “Please tell me you’ll talk to her, son.”

Nick knew he owed Don that much. “Fine,” he said, albeit ungraciously. “I’ll go and see her.” He scowled fiercely. “But only this once. I’ve had enough of bloody psych sessions to last me a lifetime.”

“That’s all I asked for, you stubborn git. Now come here and give your old man a hug.” Nick stood up and was drawn into what always felt like the embrace of a grizzly bear about to pulverise him when Don got emotional. “You’ve a good man there, son,” Don whispered into his ear. “You look after him. Don’t push him away.”

Nick was released and Don turned and nodded at Owen, then pulled him in too, for a bear hug that went on a while. Don murmured something in Owen’s ear, something Nick couldn’t hear.

Finally Don released Owen, whose face was pink from being held so tightly. “Have a good night, you two. See you both soon.” He picked up his jacket and left the house.

Nick stood watching as Don got into his car, started the engine and he watched as the taillights disappeared from view. He wondered what Don had said to his lover.

He sighed, closing and locking the door to turn and find Owen watching him from the lounge with what could only be considered an extremely lascivious expression on his face.

Nick’s nether regions turned to flame at that slow, dirty appraisal of his body. He felt instantly naked.

“He told you to look after me.” Owen said huskily. “And I know exactly how I want you to do that.” His hands reached down, lazily stroking his crotch, the ridge of his erection very visible under the surface of his jeans.

Nick’s own cock began a not-so-slow rise skyward as he moved over to the couch. “I’m not sure that’s what he had in mind,” he murmured as he sat down beside his lover, his eyes drawn to Owen’s slow caresses of his cock and the breathing that grew deeper with every move—both his and Owen’s. “I think he was referring more to feeding you and keeping you around.” He lost his breath completely as Owen reached one hand into the loose confines of Nick’s sweatpants and flicked him, his thumb caressing the smoothness and the already wet tip. His fingers grew stronger as warmth encircled Nick and Owen began to stroke him. Nick gasped, and his hips arched into Owen’s hands, his arse tightening with the pleasure he felt.