Chapter Eighteen

Everyone in Porthavel knew that Jake and Locryn were an item, and it pleased Jake more than he could say that they were so accepting.

They wandered the village hand in hand, and during the day Jake would pop into Locryn’s café or Locryn into Jake’s galleon to catch up—and have a kiss. Jake spent less and less time in his rented farmhouse. Although Locryn had made a stellar effort to make it more homely, Jake preferred Locryn’s cottage. Because that was a real home, and Jake knew it was where Locryn was happiest.

It was where Dorothy was happiest too, and she regularly made her way back and forth between the two, as content beside the baker’s Aga as she was in front of the chef’s fire. Locryn was preparing for the wedding cake in every spare moment now, creating prototypes and test cakes that no one but he and Jake were privy to. Each rehearsal was grander than the last until, on the last trial run, Jake wasn’t sure he was looking at a cake at all. Instead it was a trawler, exquisitely detailed, sensitively carved, sailing on a crystal ocean. It was a work of art, a fitting tribute to the land in which the couple lived.

“It’s beautiful!”

Jake wasn’t sure his words were adequate to capture just what Locryn had achieved. He’d seen a lot of elaborate cakes in his time, but this wasn’t showy, it was true to life, created by a man who had grown up surrounded by the sight of the trawlers while learning his craft in the bakehouse.

“It’s such a big responsibility,” Locryn told him, examining the cake with a careful eye. “When I was a boy, Petroc and Jory got their first trawler together. It was an ancient old thing, but they were so proud of it. That’s what I used for my inspiration. Not the trawler Jory died on, but the one that helped him achieve his dream of being a man of business. They worked so hard and Zoe and David have both inherited that. This should be a testament to all of them.”

He walked Jake around the cake, like a sculptor showing off his finest work. “I don’t know if you can see it, but I’ve put an M and B into the sea foam. A little secret nod to the ladies.”

Jake pointed where the foam bubbled against the prow, so realistically that Jake was half-certain he could hear it. “Yes! I can see it. Just there? What a lovely idea!”

“I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” Locryn stretched his arms above his head. “But I think…dare I say it? I think it’s okay. I hope they’ll love it.”

“Okay? Just okay?” Jake put both arms around Locryn and hugged him tight. “It’s the best fucking cake I’ve ever seen!”

“Do I get a Jake-lin star for it?” Locryn teased, hugging him. “And is eight o’clock too early to collapse into bed? Dorothy was already on the pillow after dinner!”

“You can have three Jake-lin stars. I would definitely make a special journey for that cake. I might even do it by sea—in the fucking cake!” Jake laughed. “Well, I don’t mind going to bed at eight, but not for sleeping.” He raised an eyebrow, insinuating.

And it worked, because ten minutes later they were snuggled among the mountains of pillows and blankets, cozy on Locryn’s vast brass bed. Dorothy had abandoned the pillows with a complaining miaow, moving only as far as the rocking chair before she was slumbering again.

Jake toyed with the buttons on Locryn’s shirt. “What can we do in bed if we’re not sleeping? I forgot to bring the crossword up from the newspaper. Damn, Locryn, what can we do?”

“It’s uncivilized to wear clothes in bed after eight,” was Locryn’s verdict. “That’s the city way.”

“So you Cornish lot”—Jake heaved his jumper over his head and cast it aside, leaving his tight T-shirt on underneath—”you just strip off, like this?”

“Exactly like that. We’re an earthy bunch, you know.” Locryn began to unfasten his shirt buttons. “If I’d been on your show I wouldn’t have heard a word of your advice. I’d have been staring at that T-shirt.”

Jake smoothed it over his chest, knowing how it clung to every contour. “Staring at what?” he said with feigned innocence.

“Staring at what?” Locryn echoed, returning his fingers to his shirt buttons as he kissed Jake back into the mountain of pillows. These wonderful moments of unbridled lust from Locryn never failed to thrill him, a reminder of all the strength it took to be so gentle.

Jake sank his hands into Locryn’s hair, gazing at him, losing himself in the blue depths of his eyes. “I love it when you get toppy with me!” He laughed.

Locryn peeled his shirt off and threw it aside, deliberately taking his time and letting Jake admire his sculpted shoulders before he said, “Toppy? Me? I’m just a mild-mannered baker.”

“A gorgeous, passionate artist,” Jake said as he ran his fingertips over Locryn’s chest.

“Who’s all out of Horlicks.” Locryn slid his hands beneath Jake’s T-shirt, caressing the shape of his body before he teased the T-shirt higher.

“Sod the Horlicks.” Jake drew in a hitched breath. Lust and desire were rising in him, and he helped Locryn pull off his T-shirt. As Locryn’s mouth fell to his chest, his hands were already at Jake’s belt, unfastening the buckle before he moved onto the button of his jeans.

He kissed his way down Jake’s torso, teasing soft darts of his tongue against his hardening nipples, and all the time he was unfastening his jeans with a practiced hand. Jake joined his hand to Locryn’s, his fingers trembling with anticipation on his buttons.

“I’ve got the most gorgeous, sweariest top anyone could ever want,” Locryn murmured as together they popped each button free, the words a caress against Jake’s skin. “You make me feel wild. Alive.”

“I need you… All your bunting and sugar and kindness.” Jake moaned Locryn’s name before brushing his lips over Locryn’s, their kiss rapidly turning into a sloppy snog. They barely broke the kiss as they stripped each other’s clothes and slipped beneath the quilt, bodies and mouths pressed together.

Jake tangled their legs and closed his hand around Locryn’s erection. For a moment, his hand was still as he enjoyed the firmness and size of his lover. When Jake began to stroke, his rhythm was determined. He wanted nothing more than to give Locryn pleasure, and they had enjoyed so many delicious interludes now that he knew just what Locryn liked.

He loved the way Locryn’s naturally quiet manner gave way to moans of pleasure, the way his hands moved against Jake’s body, how he could conjure up so much wonder so easily. They know how to please each other, how to draw out gasps and groans, because they were in love.

And Jake was sure that Locryn didn’t have to hear the words to know it.

Jake always knew the moment when Locryn’s climax began, and he kissed his neck, willing Locryn on, wanting the joy of feeling his body against him as he tensed and writhed with pleasure. It swept through him in an irresistible combination of moans and kisses, his hand moving harder against Jake’s erection to bring them over the edge together.

Jake moaned an incoherent jumble of swear words as his body, still wrapped around Locryn, seemed to glide up to the ceiling as his climax hurtled through his blood.

Afterward they lay together in dreamy, drowsy happiness, limbs entwined and lips softly touching. Jake noticed moonlight spilling through the open curtains, throwing a hint of glitter over the bed and silvering their naked skin. London might have been a million miles away.

“Love you,” Locryn murmured, his eyelids closing just as a knock sounded on the front door.

Jake pressed a kiss to Locryn’s cheek, then he lifted his head and glanced at the luminous dial of Locryn’s alarm clock. “Who is that?” But then, it wasn’t all that late to most people. At least, to most people who hadn’t gone to bed at eight o’clock. “Shall we find out?”

“Let’s”—Locryn kissed him—“not.”

But the knock sounded again, and from outside Jake heard Zoe’s voice float on the breeze as she said to someone, “Let’s try the bakehouse.”

“The cake!” Locryn exclaimed. He jumped out of bed and hurtled to the window, holding the curtain around his naked body like a toga as he lifted the sash and called, “I’ll be there in a moment. Don’t go to the bakehouse!”

Jake wheezed with laughter and rolled over, trying to muffle himself with the pillow. “We are so busted.”

“Is Jake here too?” David called.

“I think he might be here somewhere,” Locryn replied innocently, as though he wasn’t so obviously naked behind his chintzy curtain. Then he glanced back toward the bed. “Yes, there he is!”

“Come down!” Zoe told them through her laughter. “And close the window, you’ll catch a cold!”

Locryn nodded. “Let yourselves in and pop the kettle on. We’ll be down in a mo!”

Jake got out of bed and grabbed a dressing gown and threw it to Locryn. He slipped into another and tied the belt. “Quick wash and brush up then our public awaits!”

Five minutes later the men descended the staircase, leaving Dorothy to happily occupy the bed in their absence. Locryn had fussed and worried a little about meeting his colleague in nothing but a dressing gown, but since she had just seen him in nothing but a curtain, he eventually decided that there was little point in worrying about it. Besides, he reasoned, he was regularly seen in even less when he undertook his sea swims.

And the thought of Locryn in swim shorts, his arms scything through the ocean, was one that Jake wouldn’t easily forget.

Jake scrubbed his hand back through his hair. “Evening,” he said, as casually as he could. It was so obvious that they’d been up to saucy shenanigans, but Jake didn’t care. It didn’t help that Zoe and David were seated at the kitchen table which, though comprehensively cleaned and tidied since he had romped there with Locryn, would forever be the place where they had made love after midnight amid clouds of flour and slicks of butter. Now all that was on the table was a bright blue teapot and four mismatched cups and saucers, as well as a little plate of shortbread fingers from which Zoe was stripping the clingfilm.

“I baked!” she told them, beaming with pride. “And you’re both…sort of naked.”

“Hardly,” Locryn told her, tightening the belt of his cozy dressing gown a little more. He settled onto a chair and said, “Hello, bride and groom! How’re the parents getting along?”

Zoe looked to David and said, “Tell him about your dad, Dave. He’s like a new man!”

Dave paused, a piece of shortbread almost in his mouth. He lowered his hand and said, “He’s had his hair cut. He’s bought a new shirt. He took me to Plymouth to go shopping for new aftershave. He sings to himself. Not just them old sea shanties, but modern stuff too. And he keeps laughing. And…well, we’re calling it The Merryn Effect, aren’t we, Zo?”

“Yes we are.” She laughed. “And he even went shoe shopping with Mum and didn’t complain! It’s early days, we know that, but…fingers crossed. And that’s down to you two and your lovely food!”

“Petroc went shoe shopping? Fuck me!” Jake laughed as he picked up a piece of shortbread. Its aroma was amazing, and Jake wondered how Porthavel had managed to produce so many excellent bakers. “Well, they needed a nudge, didn’t they!”

But Zoe didn’t answer. Instead she was watching Locryn closely and chewing at her lip, her eyes unblinking as he lifted a piece of shortbread to his mouth and took a bite. She was waiting, Jake realized, for his verdict.

Locryn chewed thoughtfully and swallowed, taking his time, like a connoisseur sampling a fine wine. Then he announced, “That is excellent. Someone’s been practicing!”

“Yes!” Zoe bumped fists with David. “At last!”

“She’s been working on them for ages!” David said, affecting a world-weary tone. “And I’ve been doing all the washing up!”

Locryn poured tea into the two empty cups, taking another bite of shortbread as he did. Jake could see from Zoe’s expression that she hadn’t come here just to give biscuits though. There was a slight shadow in her eyes, and when she began to talk, the reason for it became clear.

“So, we’re getting married in a week and it’s been wild. Thanks to you two. I know this is just a telly program to you, Jake, but it’s been amazing to be part of it. And you’ve hardly shouted at anyone!” She reached out and took David’s hand. “And, Locryn, after we lost Dad, when it felt like the world was ending, just knowing you were there kept us going. Your café was a haven for us.”

“And that won’t ever change,” Locryn told her. “You’re the family I got to choose.”

David smiled at Zoe. “That’s it. Family. That’s what we want to ask.”

“I’d like you to give me away,” Zoe said to Locryn. “Would you think about it?”

But Locryn shook his head, his expression kind. “It should be Petroc. I know he’s already refused but he’ll regret it one day. I’m honored that you’d ask me, Zoe, and it’d be a true privilege, but he’s the only man for the job.”

“What if he says no again?” David asked, trepidation in his voice.

“He won’t,” Jake said, as he bit into the shortbread. “Fuck me, this is good!”

Locryn knitted his hands on the tabletop, the hitch in his breath at Jake’s words one that only Jake would hear. To their visitors he was nothing but Locryn, as proper as ever despite his state of undress. He looked to his lover and asked, “Do you think there’d be any mileage in making it a joint endeavor? Couldn’t Merryn and Petroc do it?”

“Either side of the bride?” Jake took another bite of the shortbread. Yes, it was still just as good. “Yeah, why not? Zoe, would you like that?”

“If I ask them together…” she murmured, then she turned to her groom. “Dave, would you dare say no to Mum? Would your dad?”

David chuckled, his cheeks turning red. “No, I bloody wouldn’t. And nor would Dad! I dunno, I reckon he’s in a romantic sort of mood at the moment. Bet he could be convinced now, especially if Merryn’s doing the convincing!”

“I’ll make you a deal.” Locryn unknitted his fingers and took another piece of shortbread. “If they still say no, I’d be honored to do it. But I’ve got an offer for you too. You don’t have to say yes, but I want you to promise to consider it.”

He rose from the table and crossed to the worktop, where a neatly handwritten envelope addressed simply to Zoe waited. Jake knew what it contained. It was the offer of a promotion to café manager, with all the attendant benefits that would bring, which were more generous than Jake could ever remember an employer offering him. But he’d never had an employer like Locryn.

“What’s this?” Zoe frowned, intrigued as she tore open the envelope and took out the similarly handwritten letter within. She and David read it together, their eyes growing wide as they did. Locryn said nothing but simply returned to his seat and took Jake’s hand, offering him a smile as he settled.

David slapped his leg, his knee jigging up and down. “It’s not April Fool’s Day, Locryn. What are you up to?”

“The café needs a manager because I want to spend more time baking and less time managing.” He bit into the shortbread, chewing and swallowing in his usual leisurely way. “Nobody else in the world would be half as good as you at the job, Zoe, but take all the time you need to consider the offer.”

“Can I just say yes now?” She laughed, then glanced at David, who was clearly as keen as she was. “I don’t need to think about it, Locryn. I want to do it!”

“Go on, say yes!” Jake insisted.

“Yes!” Zoe exclaimed. “Massive, massive yes! But only if you promise to keeping teaching me baking too. I’ve got a taste for it now, I don’t want to stop at shortbread.”

Locryn laughed. “It’s a deal. We’ll start both after the new year!”