Kim shook his head. “I can’t. I’ve got too much to do. Jory and Calum are going to run my stall for me.”
“Jory?”
“From the studio.”
“Oh.”
I turned away, trying to hide my disappointment. I’d kind of counted on the autumn craft fair to be a day Kim could take away from the workshop, even if it did mean me standing in a field all day. Jesus. When was the bloke going to see daylight again?
Kim caught my arm. “Don’t be like that. I’m sorry, okay? I’m nearly done, I promise.”
“I know,” I said with a sigh. “Don’t mind me. I just miss you.”
Kim kissed me, effectively silencing any negativity brewing in my veins, chasing it down, and eclipsing it with the devilish twist of his tongue. I fell against him, kissing him back, then pulled away, pressing my forehead to his.
“Don’t forget to eat.”
“I won’t,” he said. “You too, though. I know how you get when you’re busy. We’re as bad as each other.”
I let him have that one. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, after? If you finish in time.”
“Yeah . . . maybe. I’ll do my best.”
And that, it seemed, was as good as I was going to get for now. Reluctantly, I left him to it and went home, hitting my desk with a focussed fervour it had missed in recent days. Time slipped away from me, and it was dark when a knock at my door disturbed me hours later.
I ran to the door, hoping to find Kim, but it was Gaz, bearing an apron and a mischievous grin.
“You’ll be needing this tomorrow.”
“What the fuck for?”
“To run the stall with Mum. Me, Dad, and Nicky have got to see in a delivery from your fella; last but one, apparently.”
“And it takes four of you to see it in?”
“Aye, unless you want lover boy to unload it on his own? You know Dad can’t do it with his back.”
Dick.I knew I was lucky that my family was so accepting of my sexuality, but that didn’t make his shit-eating grin any less irritating, or the apron any easier to take. I booted Gaz out without offering him a beer, and skulked back to my computer. Stupid fucking craft fair. I’d been planning on photographing it and collating the images for the local magazine, not flogging chutney and jam. But I had little choice in the matter, and besides: there was no way I’d let Kim lug all those chairs to the barn on his own. If there was one thing my brothers were good for, it was hoofing shit around.
The next morning, I got up at the crack of dawn, which was easier than I’d have imagined without Kim’s warm presence to keep me in bed. I spent a few hours finalising my prep for my Bristol trip—packing, checking train times, charging a million batteries, and loading the software I used for my specialist drone onto my tablet—then I tied my dodgy apron on and drove to the farm that was hosting the last outdoor fair of the year.
I found Laura already there and halfway set up. I helped her finish, and then sloped off to find some breakfast. The smell of bacon lured me to a nearby stall and as luck would have it, past Kim’s stand, manned by Calum and a younger man I presumed to be Jory.
Calum waved. I nodded back and shouted that I’d drop by later if I got the chance, which was unlikely judging by the queue of vehicles lining up to get into the fair.Awesome.
It was midafternoon by the time warm arms slid around my waist, making me jump out of my skin.
“Jesus!”
Kim laughed. “Man, you’re such a dreamer. How have you never been mugged?”
“Piss off.” I waved a sticky jam spoon threateningly at him. “Maybe no fucker sees much worth taking, eh?”
“I don’t believe that.”
Kim’s gaze turned heated, and Laura cleared her throat, obviously amused. “Boys, behave. Why don’t you go and get a drink? I can manage here.”
It was a kind offer, but there was no way I was leaving her alone with the afternoon crowds. Besides, Kim had a stall of his own to check up on.