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Adam shook his head. “Not something I’m into, I’m afraid.”

Richard brought over the jug of water and glasses, and deposited them with a smile before vanishing back into the kitchen. Paul filled the glasses for everyone.

David shrugged. “Yeah, I know, it’s not to everyone’s taste. I also write detective thrillers under the name of James Blanchette.”

Adam’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding. I’m sitting in a café talking to the creator of Detective Ed Manning? The writer of
Secrets Kill
?” His manner changed completely. He leaned forward, smiling broadly.

It was David’s turn to gape, apparently. “Oh my God. You read my books?”

Paul didn’t miss the way Adam’s face tightened for a brief moment, then relaxed. “I did, yeah. I think I have every one of them.”

“Wow. I’m flattered. Then now would be a good time to mention that your book on Watergate is on my bookshelf at home.”

Adam’s face lit up, and the sight of it took Paul’s breath away. He’d forgotten how gorgeous his boss was when he was happy. Heaven knew there hadn’t been many occasions to see that look of joy lately.

One came instantly to mind, however, and his cock filled at the memory of Adam’s expression as he orgasmed. Fuck, but the man was beautiful when he let go.

“Okay, this is turning into an Author’s Appreciation Society meeting,” Taylor butted in, eyes gleaming. “I thought we were here to have lunch. There’ll be plenty of time for you two to talk later.”

Paul flashed him a warning glance, but Adam jerked his head in Taylor’s direction. “There will?”

“Need to know basis,” Paul told him, “and right now, you don’t need to know.”

Adam’s lips pinched together for a second. He took a breath and nodded, settling back into his chair. “Okay, where’s this crab tart you were teasing me about this morning?”

“Don’t you want to hear what else is on the menu?” Paul asked him.

Adam shook his head. “You had me at the tart.” He smiled, all sign of nerves fled.

Taylor got up. “I’ll go order the food. We can sort out payment later, all right?”

Paul nodded and ordered a prawn salad, while David chose the crab version. Taylor hurried off to order.

“How long have you lived in the UK?” Adam asked David, before reaching for his glass.

“A couple of years now, ever since I came here in September 2013 and met Taylor. Of course, it took a whole year to get through the mess that was immigration, but once that was over, I put a ring on his finger in double quick time. Thankfully by then it was legal over here.”

“And at least it’s now legal back in the States, should you both go there for a visit,” Adam remarked. “Are you a UK citizen now?”

“Not yet. I have to have been working over here for three years before that can happen, but yeah, I wanna make the UK my permanent home.” David smiled. “Like geography matters. Wherever Taylor is, that’s home.”

Paul loved that.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking a personal question, but what’s the age difference between you?”

David shrugged, clearly not minding the question in the least, but it surprised the hell out of Paul. “Twenty years. I’m forty-eight, in case you’re interested. Personally, I don’t think it matters. Age is just a number in my book. What’s important is that we love each other.”

“I happen to agree. Besides, it’s no one’s business but yours.”

David snorted. “Hah. You should’ve seen the faces of some of my relatives back in the States when I took Taylor over there for his first visit to New York. They had me pegged as some kind of dirty old man. For God’s sake, he was twenty-six when we met. I wasn’t exactly robbing a cradle, right?”

Adam laughed. “I can imagine you getting similar looks over here, unless the British are better at biting their tongues?”

David let rip with a belly laugh. “Fuck, no. And the island isn’t known for its forward thinking. Hell, most of the population is over the age of retirement. Can you imagine the looks we get from some of those old folks? A gay married couple, with me at my age?”

Taylor re-joined them, sliding along the bench to lean against David’s shoulder. “You slagging off my island again?” He grinned and kissed David’s cheek.

David put his arm around his husband and pulled him close. He addressed Adam. “Any time you wanna come chat, Adam, you’re welcome to knock on my door, y’hear? We live here in the bay. Paul’ll show ya.”

“I’d like that.” There was no mistaking the expression of genuine interest on Adam’s face.

This is working out better than I’d expected.

“By the way,” Taylor said, “I got a text from Shane and the gang while I was ordering lunch. They’re gonna meet us there.”

“Okay.” Paul noticed Adam’s lips twitching, his head tilted to one side, eyebrows lifted. He waited for his boss to say something, but nothing was forthcoming.

Paul grinned to himself. He couldn’t wait.

The food arrived and all talk ceased for a while. The look of rapture on Adam’s face after taking that first bite of warm crab tart and garlic mayonnaise was a sight to behold. Paul didn’t stop smiling the whole way through lunch as he watched Adam’s enjoyment.

When every last trace of food had disappeared from their plates, Adam leaned back with a contented sigh. “That was delicious. I think eating it outdoors where all you can smell is the sea and all you can hear are the waves and the seagulls makes it taste even better.” He felt for Paul’s arm and patted it. “We need to do this again.”

Paul wasn’t sure what he’d expected to hear—an apology? A vote of thanks?—but after the last few days, anything was an improvement. He’d take what was offered.

“We’re being approached, guys,” David said in a low voice, looking over Paul’s shoulder.

Paul resisted turning round to stare. Two men, maybe in their late thirties, came to stand next to Taylor, their gazes focused on David.

“We’re sorry for interrupting your lunch,” one of them said to him, “but we just had to ask you something.”

“Okay,” David said cautiously.

“Are… are you David Hannon?”

David gaped. “Er, yes.”

The man beamed. “I thought you were earlier, when I saw you typing.”

Now Paul got it. The men were fans of David’s gay romances. He loved the expression of astonishment on David’s face.

“I’m Keith, and this is my partner, Clive.” Keith smiled. “I’m here because of you.”

Paul caught Taylor edging closer to David, clearly in protective mode. David seemed unperturbed. “Oh?”

Keith nodded enthusiastically. “You wrote a story set down here in Steephill Cove? About a writer and a young man?”

Paul knew instantly to which book Keith was referring. It had been David’s wedding present to Taylor, their story immortalized in paperback, telling how he’d come to stay in the Lighthouse.

“That’s right.” David stared at them expectantly.

Keith was still nodding. “I read it last year, and then I Googled Steephill Cove. I was amazed to find it was a real place, so we decided to book our holiday here and check it out. You made it sound like such a beautiful place.” He smiled. “We’re staying in the Lighthouse.”

“Oh my God.” David was gaping again. “Really? That’s fantastic.”

Paul couldn’t stop smiling as the three men chatted about David’s books, Taylor looking on with a mixture of amusement and pride.

Adam nudged him with his elbow. “I never got this sort of reaction with
my
books,” he admitted quietly. There was an air of sadness about him. “I only got emails from political history professors and their students. Quite boring in comparison.”

“But you did get a reaction,” Paul insisted. “There are people out there who appreciate your books. You’ve made a living from it. Do you want to hazard a guess how many writers out there
can’t
exist on what they make from their writing?”

Adam became quiet for a moment, his face tight. He raised his chin and turned toward Paul. “You always seem to know exactly what to say.”

Whatever else he was about to say was lost when David rose to his feet to shake Keith and Clive’s hands, his face one big smile. The two men took their leave and David sank back onto his bench.

“Wow. That was… incredible.”

Paul frowned. “Has that never happened to you before?” David was such a popular writer, Paul imagined he must have met lots of readers.

“Uh uh.” David grinned and put his arm around Taylor, hugging him tight. “I don’t attend conventions or book signings. No one knows I’m James Blanchette, and I don’t want them to, because a gay James Blanchette might not go down so well. I’ve only been writing as myself for a couple years so far, and that was my first
Oh My God
moment.” He let out a sigh of sheer joy. “That was… wow.”

The four men sat in silence for several seconds, drinking their water.

Adam drained his glass. “So when are you going to tell me what else you’ve got planned for the rest of my grand day out?” He grinned. “Because if lunch is anything to go by, you’re off to a great start.”

“Nope. You’ll have to wait until we get there.”

Adam straightened. “Get where? Where are we going?”

Paul chuckled. “Uh uh. First things first, you have to climb back up the hill. That’ll work off a few calories.” He picked up the backpack that contained Adam’s light jacket. “Let me go pay for lunch, and then we can leave.” He glanced at Taylor and David. “You two going to come with us or get there under your own steam?”

“We’ll meet you there,” David told him. “I need to change my clothes first. And forget about paying. Lunch is on me. My treat.” He smiled. “I’m in a great mood.”

“Are you sure?” Adam asked him.

“God, you British,” he groused good-naturedly. “It’s only a lunch, for Christ’s sake. You can return the favor another day, okay?”

“You’re on.” Adam smiled.

“Thank God for that,” David said with a low growl. “Now get going, you two. You’ve got a hill to climb.” His eyes sparkled. “See ya later.”

Adam pushed back his chair and stood. “You know, I’m dying to know what this is all about.”

Paul led him along the walkway and out of the café, raising his hand to wave at Richard as they passed. “You’ll have to wait. Not long now and all will be revealed.” He paused at the foot of the path. “I don’t know about you, but I find it’s always worse going up this bloody hill than coming down it. And after eating all that food, too.”

Adam lifted his hand to grasp Paul’s arm. “We’ll take it slow.” He grinned. “You do your best to keep up with the dinosaur, all right?” Before Paul could retaliate, Adam had started up the path, cane moving in its slow arc in front of him, and in an unmistakable good mood.

Paul followed, unable to keep the smile off his face, delighted by Adam’s surge of confidence.

This is gonna be so good.

* * * * * *

Adam eased himself out of the passenger seat of Paul’s car and sniffed the air. The scent of the sea was much stronger than it had been at Steephill. Add to that the aroma of fish, and he had a fair idea of their whereabouts. When he caught the sound of running water nearby, he knew.

“We’re at Ventnor seafront.” Behind him was the cascade, a huge rock face that had been turned into a garden bisected by a waterfall, the path from the beach up to the main town winding around it. The Cascade had been around since late Victorian times.

“That’s right.” Paul locked the car.

Adam racked his brains as to why they’d come to Ventnor, especially this particular spot. There wasn’t much to do, save walk along the promenade. He knew there were shops, a bar or two and tourist gift shops, but that was about it.

When he heard an engine in front of them, and some seafaring vehicle cutting through the waves, he stiffened. Judging by the sound, it was a small craft. Its arrival was soon drowned out by the noise of a car pulling up next to Paul’s.

“Here’s David and Taylor.”

The engine died, doors slammed and Adam heard Taylor’s whoop. “Nice timing!”

“Paul, what are we doing?” It had gotten past the point of being intriguing. Adam wanted to know what was going on.

Paul was at his side in an instant. “My friend Eric has just tied his RIB to the jetty. We’re going to step into it. I’ll be right here, okay?”

Adam’s stomach rolled over. “We’re going for a trip on a RIB?” The thought of bouncing over the waves made his throat tighten. A rigid inflatable boat, five passengers, and a bloody long time since he’d been out in something that small.

“No,” Paul told him. “That’s just the means of taking us out to the boat that belongs to Eric’s family.”

Silence. “Boat? What kind of boat?” Adam’s heart pounded and his mouth dried up.

Paul chuckled. “Now you’re asking! All I know is it’s a big boat. You can ask Eric when we’re on board. Doubtless he’ll have all the facts and figures at his fingertips.” Footsteps beside them. “David and Taylor are joining us, and on board will be more of our friends: Shane, his twin Mark, and another friend Jason. There were two more invited, but they couldn’t make it.”

“So, eight in total.”

There was that chuckle again. “There’s plenty of room on board, trust me.”

Adam had questions. Had Eric invited him? Would Eric be steering the boat? But he kept silent as Paul led him along the jetty, David and Taylor bringing up the rear. The waves lapped at the jetty, a sound Adam always associated with his time skippering boats. He’d visited a great many marinas during the last ten years. Happy times.

“All aboard, gentlemen.” That had to be Eric. He had a cheerful voice. “Paul, you want to get in first and help your guest? I’ll lend a hand too.”

“Certainly. Cane first, please, Adam.” He handed it over. Paul moved away from him and then his hands were taken in a firm grip, Eric on his other side. “Carefully now.”

Adam stepped down into the RIB, the two men helping him to a seat in the center. Paul returned his cane. “The boat is anchored out a bit farther,” he told Adam. The RIB dipped as David and Taylor clambered on board.

“And we’re off,” Eric announced in a gleeful tone.

Within seconds the RIB was bouncing along, and Adam felt the cool wind against his skin, the spray on his arms and cheeks. It had been too bloody long. Only a minute or so passed before the small craft slowed down.