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Dare walked back from the gate, wondering what he’d done. He’d gone and admitted to Grant that he lived here. Okay, so to be honest, he was kind of surprised Grant hadn’t already twigged that, but people living in caravans was probably so far out of his experience, he just hadn’t noticed the signs.
But now he knew. And Grant worked for the enemy. Yeah, he might have started out all friendly with his offers of half a million, but Dare wasn’t about to kid himself. Brown-field sites with locations like his were like a license to print money for some people. He could be in for trouble.
The sensible thing to do would be to stop seeing Grant. It wasn’t like Grant could get in here unless Dare unlocked the gates, anyway. Nobody could, and that was the way he liked things.
But there was no point telling himself he wouldn’t come running whenever Grant was waiting outside. The bastard had gone and got him hooked. The way he was all toppy strength one minute, and then he’d go and as good as offer Dare his virgin arse. Took guts to do that, and Dare had always had a thing for brave men.
“Oh, Solly, what am I going to do?” Dare sighed as they made their way up the steps into Matilda.
Trouble was, he knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to fuck Grant the next time he saw him, and then he was going to do his best to leave it at that. They didn’t have a future together after all. Any fool could see that. But clearly Dare was more of a fool than he’d ever realised.
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THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Grant stood in the middle of his spare room and tried to visualise it as a bedroom for his daughters. Trouble was, it was barely a double-size room. He’d been using it as an office, and it had been fine to house a desk and filing cabinet. Spacious and minimal, even. But after examining the list of furniture his daughters were hankering after and measuring the room, Grant had to concede this room wouldn’t be big enough for them. Okay, so it would work if they had bunk beds, but they’d both wanted those single beds with the princess canopies hanging from the ceiling above.
But the only other room available was his bedroom. Grant rubbed his forehead and picked up the measuring tape. Time to figure a few things out.
Half an hour later, he was seriously contemplating cancelling the work lunch. But he couldn’t let Cecil down like that. Trouble was, the only other way he’d get the rooms sorted by next weekend was to spend every evening on them.
And that meant not seeing Dare.
He could use work as an excuse. It had been his go-to excuse with Harriet, after all, and Dare would probably just assume Grant was spending another week on the dig site in Bath. No need to get into awkward explanations about how he was giving up his master bedroom for a couple of girls who would only use it every other weekend. Didn’t want Dare thinking he’d gone soft in the head now, did he?
But that didn’t help ease the guilt after he sent off a quick text explaining they wouldn’t be able to meet up this week.
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“YOU’RE A FUCKWIT,” Mas informed Dare before turning away to tidy a rack of clothes that didn’t look like it needed tidying.
“Mas!” Perry hissed. “That was uncalled for.”
Mas shrugged in a vaguely apologetic gesture. “Hey, he had it coming. It wasn’t like I didn’t warn him about Grant or anything.”
Dare hadn’t seen Grant in a whole week and had gone to Cabbages and Kinks hoping for a bit of...not advice, exactly, but some kind of conversation to help him clear up the mess inside his head. And while Mas was kind of harsh, he had to agree with him. “No, I think he’s right,” he said to Perry. “I knew from the word go he was a man who’d been in the closet for years, cheating on his wife. He’s hardly the kind of bloke anyone should fall for, is he? Not unless you’re a total masochist, and I definitely don’t get off on self-torture.”
“No, you look more like the type who enjoys dishing it out,” Mas snipped. “I can just see you strutting about in leather, brandishing a whip.”
“Mas!” Perry looked like he was about to pass out with shock.
“Oh honestly, just look at him. A bald head and all those muscles and tattoos. Reckons he’s a proper bad boy, doesn’t he?”
Dare sighed. Why he’d thought coming here would be a good idea was anyone’s guess. “For your information, build and body art aren’t a foolproof guide to someone’s kinks. I know a bloke who’s dead skinny, no tats, and he’s a Dom.”
“So you’re admitting that’s what you’re into.”
Dare crossed his arms and shook his head. “I don’t need to tell you anything about my sex life. Especially after you gave me that toe-sucking line. To think I fell for that bullshit!”
Mas grinned, not looking remotely chastened. “Did he kick you in the face?”
“No, but it was a close thing.”
“I don’t think I want to know what’s been going on,” Perry said faintly. “I’ll be upstairs.”
“No, wait.” Dare grabbed hold of his arm. “I needed to talk to a normal couple about this kind of thing. You know, relationships and how to make them work. And seeing as how you’re the most normal couple I know...” He stared at them both in their vintage suits, complete with dickie bows and braces. “You know what, scratch that. You’re not normal either, but that doesn’t matter. At least you’re happy together. And you had a kind of similar situation, didn’t you, what with Perry not being out at first.”
“It wasn’t so much that I wasn’t out,” Perry said, blushing. “I just didn’t realise I was bi. Not until I met Mas.”
“Aww, thanks, poppet.”
The look the two of them gave each other was so sugary, Dare wanted to gag. “Okay, so maybe not that similar, but you still had to come out, right? Before you could be together properly. So what I want to know is how I can persuade Grant to come out without driving him away?”
“Darling, you can’t make anyone come out,” Mas informed him. “It’s not fair.”
“I know that.” Dare scrubbed at his forehead. Mas was an irritating bugger sometimes with his know-it-all attitude. Especially considering Dare had about fifteen years’ life experience on him. “That’s why I’m not suggesting I make him come out. Just that there must be a way to nudge him in that direction. Subtly.”
“I’m really not sure you’ve come to the right place for subtle,” Mas said, pursing his lips and cocking his hip. “It’s never been my forte.”
“You can say that again,” Perry muttered, but the affection came through in his voice and the soppy smile he directed at his boyfriend.
“Fuck it. You know what, this was a bad idea. I’ll just figure it out by myself. Or call it a day. Yeah, that might be best. We’re hardly all that suited anyway.” He turned for the door.
“Wait a minute. Don’t go. I’m sorry.” Mas’s hand landed on Dare’s arm. “It’s just kind of hard to wish for a happy ever after for Grant, you know? He was a right arsehole to me the last time I saw him. To Perry as well.”
“Yeah, I remember. But he was steaming drunk, and kind of heartbroken, I think.”
“Heartbroken? Really?” Mas slapped his hand to his chest. “Over little old me?”
“I think so.” Dare cast his mind back to that evening, almost a year ago. “He was desperately unhappy, anyway. I suppose some of it might have been to do with his marriage. And living a lie. And hating his job.”
“Grant doesn’t hate his job. It’s all he thinks about.”
“You’d be surprised. He hates his boss, and if it wasn’t for the money, I don’t think he’d still be there.” Dare was starting to think Mas’s knowledge of Grant wasn’t going to be any help at all. It was about a year out of date, and Grant had been through a lot since the two of them were together. Breaking up a marriage, learning to live alone—that was the kind of stuff that forced you to grow up a bit. Or so he imagined. God knew, his own traumas with Jase had forced him into growing up before he was ready.
“Has he really changed that much?” Mas asked, sounding uncharacteristically thoughtful.
“I think so. I reckon he’s a different man to the one you knew.”
“Then I think he should prove it by apologising to me and Perry.”
“I don’t need an apology from that man,” Perry said stiffly.
“No, but maybe I do. You know, to get some closure on the whole sorry business. And hey, if we kissed and made up, we could go on a double date somewhere.”
Perry looked every bit as horrified by the prospect as Dare felt.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Dare warned. “To be honest, I can’t see him ever agreeing to go out on a date with me, let alone with you two.”
“And have you ever tried asking him out somewhere?” Mas put his hands on his hips and glared, which would have been ridiculous under any other circumstances.
“No, not in so many words.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because he’s not out yet.”
“Well, that’s just utter crap, for a start. He’s out to some people. And besides, Perry went out for a meal with me before he’d ever come out. Before he even knew he had a taste for cock, didn’t you, Perrykins?”
Perry flushed and mumbled something in reply.
“But Grant isn’t Perry, is he?” Dare countered. “He knows he’s gay, and he wouldn’t want to run into someone from work when he was out with a man.”
“Nah, I’m not buying it. He used to take me out to restaurants all the time. And nowhere out of the way either. We’re talking right here in the centre of town.”
Yeah, Mas probably hadn’t meant to stab Dare’s internal organs with his words, but that was what it felt like. “I guess I’m just not as decorative as you are,” he muttered and made for the door.
“Wait, Dare,” Mas called after him, but Dare was already outside, and he wasn’t heading back in there anytime soon.
“Just call him and ask him out yourself,” Mas yelled down the road after him. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Fuck it. Maybe the pint-size queen had a point. Dare pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text as he walked. Nothing like a bit of anger for getting shit done.
Fancy going out for a bite to eat later? He typed. Nothing fancy. My treat.
His phone pinged before he reached the end of the road.
Sorry. I’ve already made plans.
Bleedin’ marvellous. Now Dare would have to spend the rest of the night wondering who the hell Grant was with and why he wasn’t with Dare instead.
Or he could try making his own plans for the night. Fuck it. Brandon was always going on about meeting him and Jos for a drink. He’d give the bloke a call and fix something up. No point moping by himself. That was no fun at all.