Page 119 of In at the Deep End

Matt glanced down. “What’s wrong with them? They’re just shorts.”

“And they leave little to the imagination.”

His grin was still evident. “You’ve spent all afternoon pretending not to look at me.”

“I have not. I’ve been… supervising.”

Matt arched his eyebrows. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Owen folded his arms. “You’ve become terribly cheeky.”

“I prefer to think of it as being honest.” Matt wandered towards him, slowly enough that Owen became aware that suddenly there was very little space between them.

Then he moved another inch closer. “I caught you staring at my arse three times.”

Owen coughed. “I was admiring your planting technique.”

Matt burst out laughing. “Really?”

“It was exceptionally thorough.”

Matt folded his arms. “You’ve got another six shrubs you can admire. Will you stare at them as much as you stared at me?”

Owen tried to maintain a straight face. “I maintain I was not staring. That would’ve been totally inappropriate.”

“Because Callum and Cyn were here? Fair enough.” He reached out and brushed an imaginary speck from Owen’s T-shirt, his fingertips lingering. “But they’re not here now.” Matt rested his hand against Owen’s chest. “Just to clarify… Have I finished gardening for today?”

Owen’s heartbeat raced, and his cock decided to join in the conversation.

“I sincerely hope so.”

Matt’s smile turned wicked. “Good. Because I had something else in mind. And it involves your tongue.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Matt took a moment to breathe.

“This feels like the day Zach and Beth got married.”

Owen looked up from plumping the cushions on the outdoor sofa for what had to be the fifth time. “Oh God. Nobody’s getting married here.”

Matt snorted. “Then why are you behaving as though they are?”

So far, the caterers had delivered trays of food, ice, and enough alcohol and soft drinks to stock a small pub. Matt had threaded solar lanterns through the trees and shrubs, arranged candles in hurricane lanterns, helped set up the bar in the pool house and another in the barn, stacked rolled towels beside the pool and scattered cushions across every wall, bench and chair.

Owen had inspected every last detail at least three times.

“By the way…” Matt nodded towards the far end of the pool. “When did the outdoor shower appear?”

“The plumber came yesterday while you were working on your dissertation.”

Matt laughed. “You really have thought of everything.”

Owen shrugged. “Old habits. Years of working in the hospitality sector.” He glanced around the garden. “You spend long enough running hotels, you start seeing everything from the guest’s point of view.” He nodded towards the shower. “Somebody gets out of the pool, doesn’t want to drip through the house, wants somewhere to rinse off… so you give them what they need.”

Matt smiled. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

Owen gazed at the garden one last time. “Not when I’m hosting. If a guest has to ask for something, you’ve already missed an opportunity.”