Short Stack - Lily Morton Page 0,71

friend. The two of them met when they apprenticed at a newspaper together when they were seventeen, and they were as thick as thieves for a long time. At one point I’d been as put out over Max as Ivo had been about Gabe. However, while Gabe and I have never slept together, and he’s in a loving relationship now, the same can’t be said for Max and Ivo. They were fuck friends for a while, and Max is still single and holding a slight torch for Ivo.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t fear Ivo leaving me. I know he loves me and is faithful. But Max is a threat because he’s still a journalist, and after hearing Ivo’s fond recollections, I’m worried that Max is going to be offering a siren’s call to the life he left behind.

My thoughts are interrupted by the door opening. Ivo grins at me. “He’s on his way.”

“Great,” I say hollowly. “That’s lucky.”

Twenty minutes later, a battered old Land Rover passes us and pulls sharply in front of the car. I watch as the six-foot muscular journalist gets out. Illuminated in our headlights, his shaggy, dark hair lifts in the breeze, and he looks casual and masculine in his jeans and old navy sweatshirt. I sneak a look down at my skinny jeans and black polo neck jumper combined with an oversized grey cashmere scarf. Then I look at Ivo’s wardrobe staple of an old jumper and jeans held together seemingly by willpower. I frown. If someone were to look at us, they would think that Ivo and Max are together, and I’m the visiting fashionista.

Ivo exclaims in delight and hurries out of the car, dashing over to Max and giving him an exuberant hug that nearly lifts him off his feet. For a second, I see joy and what looks like yearning in Max’s eyes before he looks over at me and shutters his expression.

They stand talking for a few minutes while I wonder whether to interrupt. Finally, Ivo steps back, looking around as if expecting me to be there. He starts in surprise before looking back at the car and gesturing impatiently. I purse my lips and stare back at him before slowly capitulating.

“Aye aye, captain,” I mutter, opening the door and swinging out.

The two of them turn fully to meet me, and it’s almost intimidating to see them together. Both tall and good looking, they have an air of capability about them as if they’ve had everything thrown at them during their years and batted it back.

I shake my head free of stupid thoughts and paste a smile on my face. “Max,” I call out as I get close. “Thank you so much for coming out on such a horrible night.”

“Horrible night?” Max echoes, plainly mystified.

The wind is making the trees bend and dip, and I shiver as the cold air gusts up underneath my Hugo Boss jumper. “It’s cold,” I say feebly.

Max snorts. “This isn’t fucking cold, Henry. Now, you should have been with us in Iraq. The desert at night gives new meaning to the word cold.” He nudges Ivo. “I don’t think Henry would have liked it though.” He smirks. “No showers or central heating.”

I push my glasses up, feeling like an idiot. “Sounds like boarding school,” I mutter, and Ivo gives a great laugh.

He pulls me close and kisses my temple, nuzzling into the hair affectionately. “You’ve also obviously never stayed in a house where Henry controls the heating. Charles Dickens would have written books about it.”

I elbow him, and he jumps away laughing. I smile hopelessly, caught in the curving arch of his full lips, as spellbound as if he’d spoken words of magic. I look up and flush as I see Max’s eyes on us. Something moves behind his eyes, but it’s gone before I can work it out.

“Come on, then,” he says, clapping his hands. “Let’s get your luggage in the boot.”

“Hope you’ve got room,” Ivo mutters sourly.

“Plenty for a couple of backpacks,” Max says. “Why?”

Ivo shakes his head. “You haven’t travelled with Henry yet.”

He flings our boot open, and we stand and stare at Ivo’s battered holdall and suit bag and my two pieces of expensive matching luggage. I flush slightly as Max turns to face us. “But you’re only away for a couple of nights.”

As if sensing my discomfort, Ivo suddenly straightens and flings his arm over my shoulders. “The weather can change drastically.”

“In the Cotswolds?” Max asks.

Ivo holds his gaze stubbornly.