a decade. And he didn’t want it to end. He knew he was being selfish and shortsighted, but for a moment he didn’t care. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had been selfish, and didn’t he deserve—no, he knew that it was lunacy to think people got what they deserved. But he might get what he wanted, and maybe the fact that he wanted it was reason enough to ask.
“I don’t want to go back to London,” Will blurted out. He felt Martin’s eyes on him, shrewd as ever.
“Neither do I,” Martin said lightly.
“We’re doing well here, right? You’re healthy, I’ve written a play, and we’re both doing better than we were a year ago.”
“True,” Martin said. “Although we could hardly be doing worse.”
“So let’s stay. We both know that we have to go back some time, but let’s stay for now. For a little while longer.” He swallowed. “It’s just—I like being here. With you.”
“I like being here with you as well,” Martin said. His eyes were fixed on the lane straight ahead of him.
“I suppose I ought to ask your permission to keep using your house,” Will said.
“Don’t be stupid.”
“So will you stay? For a bit?”
“I said don’t be stupid. As if I would say no.”
The idea of having more time together made Will almost sick with happiness. He didn’t trust himself to say anything sane, and scrambled around for something that at least wasn’t maudlin. “I’m thinking of getting some piglets or a couple of geese.”
Now Martin turned to him and gave him a crooked smile. “Why?”
“They’re easy to keep and easy to sell when we leave.”
“Hmm,” Martin said thoughtfully. He had obviously never considered animals in that light—of course he hadn’t, he was a bloody baronet. But the empty garden around the cottage had been driving Will around the bend for months. It was a waste not to put it to good use.
“You can help me build a pen for the pigs,” he said, trying to sound serious.
“I’ve never built a damned thing in my life,” Martin said, putting on an especially fussy tone. “You can build the pen and I’ll lounge around decoratively while I watch you.”
God help him, but that image should not have made Will feel quite so heated. They arrived at the inn before Will could further investigate the issue. Daisy, who evidently spent her evenings pulling ale and clearing dishes at the Blue Boar, spotted them at once and beckoned them toward a table by the fire.
Will got to work straight away. He wouldn’t ever describe himself as a flirt, but he supposed most flirts wouldn’t. He knew how to make people feel that they were the center of the universe, that was all. There was something worth liking in nearly everybody, and it was no hardship to figure out what it was. The trick was to do so while also hinting, in the vaguest of ways, that it might be nice if they were able to continue this charming conversation in the nearest bed. That’s all it was, a hint. Most of the time he didn’t go to bed with anybody, or even intend to.
Well, sometimes he did go to bed with people—not so much more often than anybody else his age, and it wasn’t his fault if not having much preference as to gender opened up the field quite a bit. Besides, it wasn’t like he was seducing innocents or breaking up homes; he was only after a bit of companionship and comfort, just like anybody else, right?
As he flirted and teased, he knew Martin was watching him. That shouldn’t have made it easier, but it did, and he decided not to think about why.
“Good lord,” Martin murmured when Daisy took away their empty dishes, bending over the table in such a way as to ensure that Will got an eyeful of bosom.
“I feel like a lecherous old pervert,” Will complained.
“It’s for a good cause. Daisy’s seemed happier this evening than she has in the past two months combined. She really is pretty. I hadn’t quite noticed.”
Perhaps the ale had gone to his head because this made Will choke out a laugh.
“Why are you laughing? I’m quite immune to the charms of women, as I think you know.” Martin spoke the words with the hint of a challenge, his chin high.
“I do know,” Will said immediately, even though he hadn’t known, not really. But he had to say something affirmative before Martin got the wrong idea.