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Junkyard Heart (Porthkennack Book 7) by Garrett Leigh (12)

The shadow of self-doubt niggled at me well into the evening, to the point where I even shut down my computer and cleaned the flat—something I never did unless Laura was coming round. By seven o’clock, the place was spotless, a fact I was equally proud and disturbed by, though I’d run out of time to brood on it.

I set off for the farm, taking advantage of one of autumn’s rare warm nights, and walked through town, pausing to shoot the odd long exposure down the beach, chasing the setting sun. My luck ran out as I turned in land, though, and it began to rain. The nice kind of rain first, pleasant and refreshing, but then big fat drops fell from the sky and soaked me to the skin.

Laura rushed out to meet me when she spied me traipsing up the mud-slicked drive. “You should’ve called. Your brothers could’ve driven the car into town.”

It hadn’t occurred to me to ask, but I was grateful for the towel and cup of tea Laura thrust into my hands once she’d got me inside. “How’s the barn coming along?”

“Much the same as it was yesterday,” Laura said dryly. “Though we had a visitor this afternoon. Honestly, I don’t know how Kim does it. He must work day and night.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Laura sighed. “Everyone we know, I suppose. I think your dad will die with a spade in his hand.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine. Belly Acre Farm was my father’s lifework, and I’d been raised to believe that his—and Laura’s—work ethic was how life should be. Shame my own had consumed my life so much of late I’d actually been rather lonely, until I met Kim.

The heat in my cheeks caught Laura’s eye almost before I’d sensed it myself. She pinched me with a smirk that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Gaz. “Do I take it that you’re not here for your dinner?”

Despite the lingering disquiet in my veins, I couldn’t help but grin back at her. “Nah. I’m just here for the car.”

“Hot date?”

“I hope so, but I’m okay with anything warm.”

Laura beamed and opened the fridge. She pulled out a giant Tupperware box and pushed it against my chest. “Casserole, in case you don’t get round to cooking.”

“Love you, Ma.”

I took the Tupperware and escaped to my car, still blushing like a motherfucker, though I couldn’t deny that Laura’s obvious glee had made me feel a hundred times better. She’d always been my biggest champion, more so than my real mother, but she’d never held back from telling me when shit was a bad idea.

The drive to the commune took barely ten minutes, a far cry from my perilous bike ride the night before. I drifted through the orchard, buzzing at the prospect of seeing Kim. A few people were lingering outside their trailers, cooking over open fires now the rain had eased. Some waved, some nodded and smiled. Most paid me no heed, like Kim had nighttime visitors all the time. Perhaps he did.

Stop it.

I silenced the devil on my shoulder, a leftover gremlin that Rich had so kindly left behind. I believed in Kim and me with every day that passed, and I’d be fucked if I’d wreck it with the crazed paranoia I’d run all the way to Porthkennack to escape. Red was right: Kim deserved better than that—we both did.

Shame Kim wasn’t home. My knock went unanswered, and after a brief wait, I opened the trailer door to empty space and silence.

Disappointment surged through me, my craving for Kim at an all-time high, but there was little I could do but stick Laura’s Tupperware in his tiny fridge and search for some entertainment while I waited for him. I ended up in the back room, camera in hand, lanterns lit. It truly was a beautiful space, and I entertained myself by taking macro shots of the bristles of Kim’s used paintbrushes.

And that was exactly how he found me a few hours later. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea it was so late, or I’d have called.”

In truth, I’d lost track of time too, and I’d given up checking my phone when it had become obvious that it wasn’t going to ring. “Don’t worry about it. I found something to do.”

“So I see.” Kim dropped his bag on the floor and ventured closer to peer over my shoulder. “Is that lens one of the close-up whatsits?”

“A macro? Yeah. Wanna see?”

“Damn right.”

I passed Kim the camera and tried not to get a boner over how good my two favourite things looked together. “What do you think?”

Kim lowered the camera and blinked. “That’s some crazy shit. It looks like tie-dyed hay.”

“Cool, eh?”

“As cool as you are.”

I snorted. “Not very, then. Gaz has been calling me a bloody anorak my whole life.”

“Gaz is a dick.”

“There is that.” I reclaimed my camera, turned it off, and set it safely aside. “A lovable one, though. Both my brothers are. Can’t stand them, but I’d never be without the daft twats.”

“I have mates like that.”

“Makes me glad to be a loner. How was your day?”

“Long.” Kim ran a hand through his hair with a weary sigh. “Inking and sanding . . . think I’ll be doing both in my sleep tonight.”

“Can we do it together?”

Kim’s face brightened considerably. “You’re staying?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Oh, I’m going to have you, Jas. Make no mistake about that.”

And have me he did. It was gone midnight by the time we peeled ourselves from the floor and dove into Laura’s casserole. “Are you going to the autumn fair next week?”

Kim glanced up from slicing the best-looking sourdough loaf I’d ever seen outside London. “I was supposed to be, but I don’t think I’ll make it now.”

“Why not?”

“I need every minute to make the barn opening.”

Guilt burned a path to my gut. I set my fork down. “Have we asked too much of you? It won’t be the end of the world if everything’s not entirely ready on the day. No one will have died.”

“Except me, of embarrassment. I made your dad a promise, Jas. Besides, he’s paying me a lot of money to get it right. I can’t let him down.”

I hadn’t paid much attention to how much anything in the barn was costing, least of all the furniture, because I knew my dad well enough to know he’d have paid Kim a fair price for his work. But in the same vein, my father was so laid-back that Laura often joked that he waltzed through life horizontal. Swinging jokes aside, it was hard to imagine that he’d get on Kim’s case about deadlines. Who cared if a few chairs turned up a few days late?

Kim cared, apparently . . . enough to push his food away and tug at his scruffy hair. “I’m on track, but the thought of falling behind keeps me up at night.”

“It shouldn’t.” I cupped his chin and gently forced him to look at me, taking in the suddenly obvious lines of fatigue on his face. “Trust me, my dad would rather cancel the whole thing than know you were working yourself into the ground.”

Kim’s scepticism was clear, and there was little I could do to ease the stress from him except coax him into finishing his dinner.

After, I washed up while he dried. “I’m taking a day off tomorrow,” I said. “Burnout, you know?”

Kim dropped cutlery into a drawer. “I thought we were done with that conversation?”

There was no malice in his tone, but I studied him anyway. “I’m talking about me. I’ve worked every day for weeks, and I’ll chuck my computer out the window if I don’t stop soon.”

“At least you can stop.”

“Only because I make myself, because I know the consequences if I don’t.”

“Yeah? Sent your PC flying before, have you?”

“It was a Mac, but yes. I’ve had a few expensive temper tantrums.”

Kim grinned, which was a relief, though part of me wanted to shake him into taking me seriously. “I can see that, actually. You’ve got a wild streak in you.”

The wildest side Kim had seen of me was with my trousers down, but I let him have that one, especially when I remembered that he’d seen what I’d done to my Hoxton flat. I’d let him have anything to see him smile. “Anyway, I know you’re busy, but do you want to do something? Lunch? A walk? A drive? There’s some shots on the moors I want to get now the weather’s gone all gloomy again.”

“Shots? Thought you were taking a day off?”

“I am.”

“Don’t sound like it.”

I poked my tongue out and flicked water at him. Soapy drops hit his face and clung to his jaw.

“Oh yeah?” He grabbed my wrists and spun me round, backing me fiercely against the sink, his face, his lips, barely an inch from mine. “Don’t tease me with that tongue. Drives me fucking mad, no matter how knackered I am.”

A shiver ran through me. I licked my lips, absorbing Kim’s low growl. “I won’t have to tease you if you give me a straight answer. Want to do something tomorrow, or not?”

“Man, I’d love to spend the day with you, doing all the shit you just said, and more, but I gotta work, Jas. I told you; I can’t stop.”

I can’t stop. Everything about those three words was so fucking unhealthy, but the sense of unease that had been so strong only moments ago was being fast eclipsed by Kim’s hips grinding against mine. In the haze of his lips on my neck and a growing boner, I struggled to blurt out a response before the power of speech deserted me. “Fuck it. I’ll come to work with you. Now, are you going to show me your bed, or what?”

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