Wond'ring Aloud










Wond'ring Aloud

by Belinda McBride

 


Martin Westborough carefully dipped his
pen into the well of India ink. He thought for a moment before setting pen to
paper, letting the words run through his mind, uttering the stanza out loud,
just to make certain it was right. Once the words began to flow, he quickly
filled the page with line after line, letting the rhythm and meter carry him
away. He hummed a bit, listening to the birds outside the window and the breeze
in the treetops. It was an ideal day in the English countryside. The cerulean
blue of the sky was studded with white clouds. The wind carried away the heat
of early summer. In the distance, he heard the lowing of a cow. It was as it
had always been and would always be. Perfect.

“Darling, did you say something?"

He jumped at the unexpected intrusion. Jane stood framed in the doorway, her
loose morning dress failed to disguise the shapely curves of her body. Her hair
was arranged in a simple twist at the nape of her neck and ringlets broke free,
framing the perfection of her face. Her cherry-red lips curved up in a smile.

He blinked in confusion. Was this how the conversation was supposed to go?

“No, I was humming a moment ago, but no, I said nothing."

“Oh." Her smooth brow puckered in a frown. “I thought I heard someone call out.
It was a manłs voice." She turned from the door, starting back down the stairs.
He watched as she paused and looked at him. “I believe IÅ‚ll take a walk in the
garden. The roses are so lovely this time of year. Would you care to join me?"

He looked at her, love surging through his very essence. Hełd loved Jane all
his existence, it seemed. When theyłd secretly pledged their love, hełd
promised her eternity, if shełd only wait for him. And shełd waited faithfully,
through schooling and war and finally his homecoming. Theyłd wed against their
parentsł hopes, though both sets had accepted the union graciously.

“IÅ‚ve just a bit left to the verse, and then IÅ‚ll join you."

She smiled and left the room, her footsteps echoed down the stairs, until he
could no longer hear her. Martin shook his head. She knew not to interrupt him
when he was writing, but he couldnłt find it within him to be annoyed with
Jane. He looked down at the blank page in front of him and began the words to
the poem hełd been considering for so long. Pen touched paper and he paused. It
wouldnłt hurt to do things a bit differently once in awhile. Martin reached for
his hat and coat and then set them back down. It was a lovely day and no one
would care if he went outside bareheaded and in his shirtsleeves. After all,
this was his home and he was free to act as he wished.


* * *


“Would you look at that?" David Cameron leaned forward, peering through the
windshield at the beautiful old estate that rose before him. “Are you sure this
place is abandoned?"

Calvin carefully steered the van up the graveled drive, coming slowly to a stop
at the back of the property. He checked the photo of the house that the owners
had sent and compared it to the house in front of them. “This is it. ItÅ‚s in
great condition, though. They must have caretakers coming in pretty regularly."

Indeed, the gardens around the house were healthy and well-tended, if a bit
overgrown. The cottage itself was a work of art. Cottage? David laughed under
his breath. This was the wealthy aristocratłs version of a cottage. It rose at
least three stories, and yes, it was more quaint than stately. Still, hełd
expected something a bit more humble.

He hopped out of the van, shading his eyes against the sun. It was a brilliant
day, much different than what hełd experienced when theyłd arrived in London.
The rain and fog had been depressing, forcing them to drive slowly on their
trek to the countryside near the Scottish border. Last night, theyłd stayed at
a tiny bed and breakfast inn, and David had lain awake late into the night,
clearing his mind so that hełd be ready for his first day at Rosemead.

He and Calvin were ghost hunters. Theyłd started the business as a hobby in
their late teens, using the occasional job to supplement their meager college
funds. Davidłs studies had leaned toward history with a minor in psychology
while Calvin had remained firmly entrenched in his tech world. When they
graduated the jobs kept coming, and they finally got serious a bout the
business.

They approached the job differently than other teams. Basically, David went in
blind. Hełd go in and let the past tell him its story. His results were always
backed up by the scientific evidence collected by Calvin. Sometimes they found
nothing, and sometimes they struck gold.

He had a good feeling about this place.

He headed to the back of the van and watched Calvin for a moment. Black, razor
styled hair glinted in the sun. Cal had always taken his style hints from
Canto-pop stars. A fringe hung over one eye and he impatiently pushed it back.
David smiled; hełd worked so hard on the effect that morning. Personally, he
liked it when Calvin forgot about his hair for a few months, letting it grow
out to his shoulders. It was straight and sleek, unlike Davidłs messy red
curls.

Cal wore a white tee-shirt under his bad boy leather jacket. Tight blue jeans
were tucked into a pair of lace-up Doc Martins. He wasnłt tall, wasnłt short,
and had a body that stopped traffic.

Calvin stood, stretched and put his hands on his hips, looking around the
yards. “Too much work goes into a place like this. Give me a condo any day." He
leaned forward, hauling out a box of cables. David took the moment to enjoy the
guilty pleasure of ogling his friendłs ass, and then took the box from him.
“Just leave it there at the back door. I donÅ‚t want to set up till we walk
through the place."

David set down the box and wandered into the cottage gardens. Plants grew wild,
spilling over neat borders in a riot of color. Bright scents filled the air and
bees lazily hovered over the tiny blossoms of a lavender bush. A path covered
with dirty white stone lead to riotous growths of flowers. Further back grew
roses of all sizes and colors. Quaint stone benches were scattered around in
the shade, and he had no problem imagining people wandering these paths in
years gone by.

He walked a bit, listening to the crunch of the granite beneath his feet. When
he stopped, he heard only birds singing and the breeze in the treetops. It was
as though he was alone. Completely alone. But he wasnłt alone at all. He closed
his eyes, listening to the lilt of a voice that just eluded his hearing. Soft
laughter and then a gasp of pleasure. He flushed slightly and his cock began to
rise in sympathetic arousal. He shivered and listened with more than his ears.




 

 


“Dave!" CalvinÅ‚s voice sounded urgent, so David began to trot up the path,
surprised hełd come so far. When he arrived back at the house, his friend was
waiting impatiently. There was a pile of boxes and equipment that hełd already
unloaded.

“Sorry!" He could see Calvin was royally pissed. “Just wandered off down the
path. Next thing I knew, I heard you calling."

He tilted his head, looking up into DavidÅ‚s face. “You look pale. You okay?"

“Fine." David forced a smile to his face. HeÅ‚d lost at least twenty minutes.
Maybe longer. He looked behind him, down the garden path. He then took a deep
breath. “LetÅ‚s get inside. Check this place out."

“After you." Cal grinned, and let David lead them into the house.

 

* * *


This place was the real deal. Calvin could see it on Davełs face. It was in the
set of his shoulders as he prowled from room to room, a mixture of excitement
and apprehension in his voice. Hełd been more distraction than help as Calvin
set up monitors and computers, so hełd sent David away to tour the house. For
being old, it was in remarkably sound condition. The owners swore that they
couldnłt get anyone in to clean or do repairs. Theyłd purchased it on the
cheap, hoping to turn it into an upscale bed and breakfast establishment; the
sort that catered to wedding parties and such. Unfortunately, their plans had
been a bust. Now they were hoping to draw a different sort of clientele. If
Calvin and Dave could verify a haunting, thrill seekers might come calling.
Unfortunately, theyłd still have to deal with the fact that none of the locals
were willing to set foot on the property.

The house was mind-bending. Most of the furniture was gone, but the rooms were
in pristine condition. The wall paper was intact, still vividly colored. The
wooden floors gleamed, as did the windows. It was slightly dusty, but overall,
cleaner than his apartment back in Berkeley. An few pieces remained but it
seemed rude to use the beautiful wooden furniture to hold his equipment, so
Calvin brought in folding tables and camp chairs.

Theyłd debated the merits of staying in the house overnight, and had decided to
work until a few hours after dark, and then head on down the road to a busy
little inn. To his consternation, and anticipation, there had been only one
vacancy at the inn. Two single beds in one single room. But then, he and David
had shared the inflatable mattress many times on other jobs, but that had been
in the course of work. Somehow, sharing the intimacy of a room was more
intimidating.
He knew it was idiotic to view his friend this way. He knewbut still, at some
point over the years, Calvinłs perception of David had shifted. One day, theyłd
partied together, studied together and even dated together. The next, Calvin
was looking at David as though he was moreas though he was his.

And that wasnłt okay.

Neither of them was innocent. Neither of them were completely straight, either.
Hełd seen the looks Davey had given to the occasional man over the years;
generally a hunky, tall guy like himself. Short Chinese men hadnłt been on his
menu. Maybe he craved someone larger and stronger; someone who could take him,
make him cry out into the pillow.

And at some point over the years, Calvin had come to the realization that his
friend was the real deal. David was what made their little business different.
He was a real, bonafide psychic. A medium. When hełd first realized that,
Calvin had been both thrilled and terrified. Not of David, but for David. His
scientific skills combined with Davidłs talent gave them a distinct edge over
the completion.

Unlike his friend, Calvin liked to know what he was walking into. He always had
some research under his belt. He always had an idea of what they were looking
for at a haunting, and when David managed to draw the story from an old
building, his ability frightened Calvin to the core. He was not so much
frightened of the ghosts or spirits, but of the toll it took on David. Just an
hour ago, hełd wandered into the garden, losing a good half-hour down there. He
didnłt want to know what the hell had happened; he just wanted that look off of
Daveyłs face. He wanted him back where he could protect him.

Good God, he loved him. And he couldnłt keep going on like this.

“Hey Davey?"

“Hmm?" Dave glanced over at him, the afternoon light caught on the strawberry
gold of his hair. With coloring like his, David should be homely, but his blue
eyes were bright and surrounded by dark lashes. He never missed a chance to
tease him about his pale skin, but in reality, it fascinated him. As he aged,
David grew from gawky to handsome. His lanky limbs muscled out and he grew more
confident by the day.

“What do you think about adding a couple team members? Maybe take a bit of
pressure off the two of us?" Well, it would take the pressure off him if he
wasnłt on the road with David, day in and day out. Maybe he could get over this
man crush. Maybe he could find someone and get laid. Accept reality and move on
with his live. “IÅ‚m nearly thirty. IÅ‚m thinking IÅ‚d like to buy a place, have a
home base. Maybe manage the business rather than be on the road all the time."

David frowned. “I guess. Not many people have your background..." He trailed
off, his attention caught by something. Calvin bit his tongue to keep himself
quiet. It was starting. David closed his eyes, focusing on whatever it was that
had captured his attention. It was pretty lame to have brought this up during a
job; David didnłt need the distraction.

He moved quickly to his bank of monitors, looking at various read-outs. Nothing
looked out of the ordinary, exceptnothing was moving. All the graphs and
monitors had frozen in place. He looked up at David, meaning to speak, but his
friend was frozen in place, an expression of intense concentration on his face.

“Hello? Can you hear me?"

The silence vibrated in his ears. He studied the monitors, and suddenly they
came to life, graphs and needles and warning lights all flashed in a chaotic
flurry of color and movement. Hełd kept the sound turned off so it didnłt
disturb David.

Suddenly, all the monitors went back to normal. Whatever had been there was
gone. The two men stared at each other.

“It was a woman. Maybe a man too." David was white as a sheet. As white as if
hełd seena ghost. And apparently, thatłs exactly what hełd seen.


* * *

 

They lay in their bed, the
sheets tangled around sweaty limbs, their breath still coming hard. Martin
nuzzled Janełs hair, enjoying the lavender fragrance of its length. He dropped
a kiss on her temple, and then cupped her breast. She was perfect as shełd ever
been.

“IÅ‚ve had the strangest feeling today." Her breath stirred the hair on his
chest, causing him to shiver. Or maybe he shivered because he shared that
strange feeling. Hełd heard the soft murmur of voices and had been plagued by
feelingsdéjÄ… vu. So much felt familiar.
She rose, not bothering with her robe, and Martin enjoyed the sight of her pale
skin in the late afternoon sun.

“You worked so hard on your song today, but now the page is blank."

“What?" He rose and joined her at the small writing desk. Sure enough, the
parchment was pristine. He clearly remembered writing; though the words were
hazy in his mind. “ThatÅ‚s strange." Yet it wasnÅ‚t. The page was always blank
when he returned to it.

And then he remembered. She must have remembered too. Theyłd broken their
routine today. It had jolted them into remembrance. Their gazes met and she
smiled winsomely at him.

“Do you mind so much?" He reached out, stroking her skin, remembering a time
when it wasnłt so smooth and unlined. Her hair hadnłt always been this color of
gold.

Jane moved into his arms, resting her head on his chest. “Mind? What more could
I ask for, then to spend eternity with my love?"

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Now he remembered and
smiled, nipping the soft skin of her shoulder. For some, being trapped in limbo
might be a curse, but every moment he spent with his Jane was a blessing. They
moved through their daily routine endlessly, occasionally jolted back to
reality when a visitor arrived at the cottage.

“ThereÅ‚s someone in the house. ThatÅ‚s what woke us." She looked up at him,
looping her arms around his neck. “Perhaps"

“Perhaps we could visit them?" He finished her idea.

“Perhaps we could do more." She didnÅ‚t smile, but a dimple appeared in her
cheek. He leaned down, teasing the indent with the tip of his tongue. He knew
exactly what she had in mind.
With a thought, they were in the drawing room, blinking past the fog of ages.
The room was bare, or very nearly. He was momentarily puzzled at the odd
machinery set up on tables, then recognized it as belonging to the present time
these people inhabited. Two men stood frozen, one in the center of the room,
the other behind the table at the far side of the room. The man who stood
nearest them was nearly as tall as Martin. His blue eyes searched the room,
finally settling on where he and Jane stood.

“Hello? Can you hear me?"

His accent was unusual, but Martin knew hełd heard it before. Over the years,
many men and women had visited their home. None had managed to manifest quite
so clearly as this one. The other man was little more than a hazy blur. Jane
clasped his hand, pulling him from the room.

“Can he see us?" She looked up at him, her delight mingled with fear. He
understood completely; how many years had it been just the two of them? Therełd
been a medium many years back, a pretentious, annoying man, but nevertheless,
hełd managed to connect with them. Jane squeezed his hand, and with a glance to
make sure they were both properly attired, Martin took a breath, moving slowly
back into the room. They watched the men who now hovered behind the table,
fussing with the machinery theyłd brought with them.

Computers.

He pulled it from the mind of the other man, letting the data and facts of the
past few years flood his brain. Technology to prove the existence ofghosts. He
looked down at his wife; her expression told him shełd picked up the same
thought. Twenty-first century. The lapse of time no longer had the power to
surprise them, but he was fascinated by the advances that had taken place since
theyłd last had visitors.

The ginger-haired man straightened, looking straight at them. His eyes went
wide and he started to move, one hand reaching out in their direction. Before
Martin could warn him, he touched, his hand passing right through the fine
black fabric of Martinłs sleeve. He felt nothing, but obviously, the medium was
affected. His eyes rolled up in his head and he moaned, going limp. Just before
he collapsed, the other man rushed forward, catching him.

“David!" He looked wildly around the room. “We arenÅ‚t here to hurt you! Leave
him alone!"

Involuntarily, Martin and Jane stepped back, watching the man cradle the other
in his arms. Gently, he stroked his face, running his fingers through Davidłs
hair. He looked up again, seeing nothing. “Come on Davey, wake up!"

He was foreign in appearance; his face had high, jutting cheekbones, his almond
shaped eyes angled up at the corners. Martin had seen images of men from the
Orient, but had never seen one in person.

“IsnÅ‚t he just lovely?" Jane tilted her head a bit. “And so in love."

Martin moved close, staring down into the manÅ‚s frightened face. “Can you hear
me?" The man jerked in surprise. Maybehe reached out, gently touching his arm.
The man gasped. He looked up at Martin in awe.

“I can see you!"

Martin let go of his arm, but the visitor kept staring.

“I can see you!"

“So you said." Martin replied dryly. He smiled as the man scrambled back, dragging
his friend with him.

“I" He looked around, eyes wide in shock. “ThereÅ‚s stuff in here! WhereÅ‚s my
equipment?"

“ItÅ‚s still here. YouÅ‚re just seeing from our perspective." JaneÅ‚s voice was
soothing. She smiled happily. “ItÅ‚s been a very long time since we had
visitors. Wełre so glad to welcome you. Martin, darling?"

He cleared his throat and performed introductions. “IÅ‚m Martin Westborough, and
this is my wife Jane. Welcome to our home."

“C..Calvin Yee. My friend is David Cameron. Mywe were hired to come here.." He
stammered, clearly overwhelmed. “We were hired to see if the place was really
haunted. Owners canłt get anyone to come out here"

“I see. There have been a few like you over the years. But itÅ‚s just the two of
us." He smiled, trying to reassure the young man. “No malevolent spirits; no
angry specters. Just an old married couple."

“Old." For the first time, Calvin laughed. “You look like kids. Young adults,
anyway."

It was true; theyłd taken the form theyłd been at in the prime of their lives.
Still, they were quite old. Theyłd lived good, long lives.

“Why are you still here? In this house?" Calvin still cradled the still form of
his friend, though the tall man was stirring. His eyes fluttered, and then went
wide as he looked around, taking in the situation. He suddenly sat up, holding
the other manłs arms in place. He was paper-white, but less afraid than the
other man.

“I touched you" He looked from Martin to Jane and then back. “I felt you, but
there was nothing"

“ThatÅ‚s why you fainted." Jane smiled kindly at him. When David looked around,
he looked ready to pass out again.

Martin answered CalvinÅ‚s earlier question. “We donÅ‚t know why we never passed
over. Perhaps we stayed because we wanted nothing more than each other."

“Like a wish gone wrong." David was scrambling to his feet. Calvin followed,
steadying him.

“Oh no, itÅ‚s not so bad. We live through our daily routine until a visitor
disrupts it. Thatłs really the only time I find myself wishing for more." Jane
smiled, moving to settle into a wing chair. “ThatÅ‚s why we decided to approach
you. We wondered if you could help us."

Martin moved to the edge of the room, peering out the drawing room window. The
world was as hełd always known it, but if he looked a bit harder, he was able
to see the changes that had taken place in the world since hełd last walked
abroad. He let the curtain drop back into place.

“We are happy here, make no mistake about that. But we are restricted to the
boundaries of the property. We are unable to go elsewhere. Unless people come
here and seek us out, we are quite alone."

“And we can help you?" David was looking steadier with every minute. He looked
a bit wary, though. “How can we do that?"

“When you leave the property, if you are willing, you can carry us with you."
Martin studied their faces, not willing to let his eagerness show too clearly.
He craved sound and company, even for just a short time. He knew Jane felt the
need as well.

“Likepossession?" Calvin spoke warily.

“No, we would have no influence over your behavior. We would simply observe."
Jane smiled prettily. It wasnłt quite the full truth, but Martin chose not to
interrupt. As always, his wifełs charm took them further than his cool, factual
demeanor. “And we canÅ‚t stay with you very long. In time, we would be compelled
to return here to our home."

The two men glanced at one another. He could see Davidłs eagerness contrasted
with Calvinłs reluctance.

“Give a piggyback ride to a couple ghosts?" Calvin heaved a deep breath and
shrugged. “No funny business? No bad intentions?"

“None at all. We simply want to observe the living world for a time. We have no
influence over your behavior." She folded her hands and looked anxiously at the
two men. Martin held his breath, and then let it out abruptly as both men
slowly nodded.

“Why the hellheck not?" David shrugged. “I doubt weÅ‚ll ever get a chance to do
something like this again. So how does it work?"

“Like this." With little more than a thought, Martin moved, finding himself
housed in the body of another. It felt odd and ill fitting. Just a few feet
away, David shook his head and he saw Janełs essence hovering around his, like
an aura.

“Jane?" He looked anxiously at her.

“IÅ‚m fine." Her voice came out deeper and oddly accented. Still, it was Jane.
He smiled as she patted her temporary body, lingering at the groin. “I never
get tired of this!"

“Catching a ride, or inhabiting a man?"

“Both." She tilted her head just a bit. “TheyÅ‚ll be back soon. Do you notice
anything odd in their thoughts? Will they be safe?"

Martin let himself flow through Calvin. Chinesehe was from America, but he was
Chinese. And

“HeÅ‚s in love. With David." And so very sad about it. He thought his best
friend was oblivious. And oddly, after all these years, it was legal for men to
love. Not widely accepted, but not a legal offense.

“And this one is the same. He thinks Calvin would be shocked. Offended." She
walked up to Martin, bending down to settle a kiss on CalvinÅ‚s lips. “Silly
young men. They have much to learn from us."

“And weÅ‚ve got very little time to teach them." He felt CalvinÅ‚s body react to
the embrace and knew it wasnłt just him. Somehow, Calvin was responding to
David. Jane smiled wickedly, thrusting their hips together. They ground a bit,
their cocks rubbing against the rough fabric of their trousers.

“Time to let go." Jane stepped back a few feet, her smile on DavidÅ‚s lips.
“HeÅ‚s starting to come back."

Calvin was returning as well. Martin let go of the body, content to settle in
see where these men took them.



* * *


“Damn." David shivered, still trying to shake off the feeling of the brief
possession. Had he imagined it, or had he and Calvin been kissing? No, that was
Jane and Martin, the beautiful ghosts of Rosemead Cottage. He wondered if any
portraits of the two existed. Before they left Rosemead, hełd have to visit the
local museum.

“Can you feel them?" Calvin slipped behind the wheel of the van, just sitting
with his hands resting on the wheel.

“IÅ‚ve got Jane, I think. But itÅ‚s not like I can feel her. I just kind of
know."

“Same here. MartinÅ‚s there, but just watching."

Was it his imagination, or had Calvin just glanced at Davidłs groin? Hełd been
hard as a rod when hełd roused, and noticed that Calvin had been as well. Even
now, arousal simmered. David slid into the passenger seat, slowly buckling his
seatbelt. “So what now? ThereÅ‚s not really a lot to see in the village."

“Justwe can go to the tavern. He just wants to see faces." They exchanged
glances. “Okay, so that was weird."

“Jane wants to see fabricclothing." He frowned, not really hearing her
thoughts, but feeling them. “She wants the same; just to see faces. They have
descendants in the area."

Calvin drove slowly down the narrow roadway, giving their passengers time to
look around and see the changes to the countryside. Some of what they saw was
unfamiliar. Much was largely unchanged.

“That was her home when she was young." David nodded toward a handsome old
house that was attached to a church. Jane had been the youngest daughter of the
local vicar. His gaze lingered as they passed. In moments, they were rolling
into the village. Calvin parked the van near the tavern they were staying in.
They got out and strolled down to the village, sightseeing and window shopping.
The small town was a mish-mosh of architectural styles. Some were like old
friends, some were unfamiliar. He laughed when he realized that a disreputable
old tavern had been converted into a movie theatre.

David found himself studying clothing and hairstyles, occasionally glancing at
the cars that lined the roadside. It was like seeing the world through new
eyes. When theyłd driven through early in the day, hełd seen a quaint English
village. Now, he was seeing details; a familiar storefront with a different
tenant. Even faces were comforting.

“Time passes, but I swear I just saw Squire Wilson!" That was Jane speaking. He
felt a surge of apology and laughed. Without thinking, he reached down,
clasping Calvinłs hand.

Oh damn. He didnłt look, but since his friend didnłt pull away, he left
his hand there, enjoying the forbidden contact. They drew a few looks, but not
as many as he expected. Later, hełd blame it on Jane. For now, his heart raced
as Calvin tightened his grip slightly.

“I was frightened earlier. When you fainted."

“I didnÅ‚t faint!" David looked at Calvin in indignation. “IÅ‚d just touched a
ghost! IÅ‚m a psychic, stuff like that hits me hard."

“Hmm. First time youÅ‚ve said that out loud. About being a psychic. I always
knew, but wasnłt sure that you were comfortable with it."

They walked on, pausing to examine a window with electronics on display. “When
I was a kid, I used to hear voices in our house. Not loud, and nothing I could
really make out. No one else heard it. When we moved to a new condo it stopped."

“Did you miss it?" They walked into a busy little pub. David was disappointed
when Calvin finally let loose of his hand.

They took seats at a small round table. He looked at Calvin, and thatłs when he
knew that things were changing. Shifting. There was something new there in his
friendłs brown eyesa sense of knowledge. Under the table, their legs brushed
together, and once again, he felt his arousal stir.

“Yes and no. Once I figured out that I was hearing stuff other people didnÅ‚t
hear, I feltweird. Freakish. But at the same time, it gave me such a sense of
peace, knowing that death wasnłt the end."

They ordered the house ale and a plowmanłs lunch. He barely tasted it, but knew
that Jane was enjoying the common fare. Did they eat ghost food? They were both
dressed in antique clothing, she in a high waisted dress, Martin wore a simple,
yet elegant black suit. His brain scrambled to place their era.

“They lived in the 1700s. Jane died of a stroke. Martin passed just a few days
later. They were married a very long time."

Calvinłs hand was flat on the table and David reached out, laying his hand over
Calvinłs. He looked up and studied the other manłs face.

“How do you feel about this?" He looked down at their hands. For a moment, it
looked as though Calvin was about to cry. David tightened his grip and then
started to pull away. Cal grabbed his hand, cradling it in his.

“I feelgood. Right." He looked up at David. “I was afraid" He reached up with
his free hand, rubbing it over his eyes. “I was afraid to tell you. IÅ‚m going
to be thirty, you know. IÅ‚ve loved you for years and all I could see was being
alone. Without you. Forever."

“Is that why you suggested we expand the business? To get away from me?"

Calvin nodded. “Yeah. I justitÅ‚s too hard, working so close, always worrying,
but never being able to show how I feel." He glanced around the dimly lit pub.
“Is this because of them? Their feelings?"

David shook his head. “No, this is us. IÅ‚ve been trying to work up the guts to
talk to you about it." He lifted CalvinÅ‚s hand, carrying it to his lips. “I
love you, Cal. Have for quite awhile now." His smile felt lopsided on his face.

He looked inside and found Jane, who was brimming with delight. So she had
played a rolemaybe just a small role in pushing them forward. Shełd reached
out for her husbandłs hand, carrying David along. All theyłd needed was a
little icebreaker.

With a sigh, he felt her leave. No goodbyes, but he knew where to find her.

“HeÅ‚s gone." Calvin twisted his hand in DavidÅ‚s grip, and for a moment, his
heart dropped. But then he found his fingers pressed against CalvinÅ‚s mouth. “I
think I remember us kissing, back there in the cottage."

“I remember that too. Woke up with a boner."

“You always wake up with a boner." Calvin gave his finger a tiny lick, and then
blew over it. David pulled a breath, trying to will down the erection that was
pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

“Now weÅ‚re alone again. WeÅ‚ve got a room upstairs. IÅ‚ll bet those two beds will
fit together just fine."

David rose on unsteady legs. He dug into his pocket, dropping a bill on the
table. He looked around the pub. A moment ago, it had seemed quiet and private.
Now the noise of a dozen conversations began to rise around them. It felt
friendly here. Good. “We could buy it, you know. The house. Give us roots and
give them a window on the world."

Calvin stared at him for a moment. “We could do that. Especially if the owner
finds out itłs not haunted." A smile started at the corner of his mouth and he
glanced up toward the stairs. David followed Calvin up to their room and in
just minutes, they discovered that indeed, the two beds fit together perfectly.


* * *




Martin finished the poem with a flourish. He smiled down at the page, even
though they both knew that once he looked away, the page would go blank.

Jane smiled at her handsome husband. He wore only his shirtsleeves and weskit.
His hair was unfashionably long and inky black. She stepped back from the door,
hiding the fact that shełd been spying.

“Jane?"

She appeared in the doorway, bearing a tray with toasted bread and tea. The
fragrance filled the room and sudden hunger flared in his eyes. She sat the
tray on the bed and turned, walking into his arms. Martin whirled her into a
waltz, humming a lovely tune that was completely unfamiliar to her.

“Martin! The tea!" With a crash, the tray toppled to the floor. They looked at
each other and burst into laughter.

“That was your homemade marmalade, I expect." He looked disappointed at the
loss. “I will help you with another tray." He slipped out of his weskit,
tossing it to the floor. “Later." He pressed her back against the bed, studying
her face.

Jane reached up, combing his hair back from his high forehead. Hełd always been
such a handsome man. She was grateful shełd followed her heart and married her
poet, rather than the wealthy landowner her father had hoped for.

Thinking of their courtship reminded her of other lovers. “IÅ‚m glad they found
each other. Soul mates are so rare. We did a good thing, didnłt we, Martin?"

“A very good thing." He smiled and kissed her. “How many does that make for
us?"

“At least a dozen couples. And that odd little threesome who came to visit in
the last century."

He smiled. “Ah yes. I remember them. I wonder when our next star-crossed lovers
will show?"

“I suppose thereÅ‚s no telling." Jane began to work at his clothing, pulling his
shirt from the back of his trousers. They could simply think themselves naked,
but that took away so much of the fun.

“I finished the song." He sat up to pull the shirt over his head. “It vanished
from the page, but this time" He tapped the side of his head. “ItÅ‚s here. No
need to write it again."

“How lovelythatÅ‚s what we danced to, isn't it?" Somewhere in the house, a door
slammed. She clearly heard footsteps on the ground floor. Martin gave an
exasperated sigh, but really, they had forever to make love. They clasped hands
and vanished, ready to see who was on their doorstep.

 

* * * * * * * * * *





Belinda McBride is published at Loose Id, Changeling Press, Passion
in Print and Dreamspinner Press. She specializes in erotic romance in multiple
genres, including LGBT, m/b, science fiction, paranormal and BDSM.

 

You can visit her website
at: http://www.belindamcbridecom

 

And her blog at: http://www.belindam.blogspot.com

Her next release is the paranormal menage 'Hunting Holly' in the upcoming
Doms of Dark Haven 2: Western Night anthology, coming to Loose Id on May
16!