Beached Hearts

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 2

Part One Chapter 1 “THEY arrived last night. There’s about ten of them, led by this one bloke from California who’s apparently the world’s biggest expert on whale anatomy,” John Doyle told Conor Kelly as they sat in their patrol car drinking coffee and surveying the empty beach. It was barely light, wind and rain lashing the sea into foamy peaks, the dark shape of a whale covered by tarpaulins visible against the pale sand. Conor didn’t reply. John knew better than to expect much out of him so early in the morning. The sleepy West Ireland village of Kinroe lay on the coast, twenty miles from Galway City, overlooking the bay. It had become famous over the last two days after a blue whale had become beached on its shores. After forty-eight hours of desperate work by marine conservation groups from all over Ireland and the emergency services, the animal had died before they could get it back into the water. This had left Conor, local chief of police, with a major headache: disposal of the body. A mere eight hours later, the mayor had called him into a meeting and told him an American nature channel wished to send a team to conduct a post-mortem on the whale and film it as a documentary. “It’ll be good for tourism,” John, his sergeant, had pointed out after the meeting. He was a tall, thin man with carroty hair and a freckled face. There was no one in Ireland who looked more Irish than John. “I don’t care about the tourism,” Conor snapped. “Didn’t that animal suffer enough without turning its death into a spectacle? Christ, people are going to come from all over Ireland to watch its guts being spilled on the beach.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 3 John was silent. Conor reddened a little at venting his feelings so publicly. At the frontline of the rescue attempt, he’d hardly slept in two days, and when the whale had gone and died, it had just about broken his heart, to his own surprise. A quiet, taciturn man, slow to anger and impulsiveness, it took a lot to upset him, and even more to move him, but this creature had. The idea of watching it being cut open was more than he could bear. “It’s too big to move,” John offered. Conor sank into a chair. “This is all bullshit.” “I know.” “Policing it will be a nightmare. I don’t want to do it. I’m too fucking tired.” His own words amazed him. Conor rarely complained about anything. He got on with his job to the best of his ability, and, as such, he was the most respected man in town. “We’ll have reinforcements sent.” Conor didn’t say anything else after that. He had spoken more after that meeting than he did sometimes in a whole day, and now he was done. He had nothing else to say. He would just get on with it like he always did. He wore a heavy regulation jacket that morning over his uniform and boots, a beanie hat pulled down over his ears. Despite the car’s heater, he was still chilled. He wasn’t relishing standing around on the beach all day keeping ghouls away from the body. The mood he was in, he would arrest anyone who showed a hint of causing a disturbance. “They said they’d be here at eight,” John said. “Guess they had a lie-in.” Conor scowled. That was further negative points against them. He wasn’t sure how he was going to bring himself to be civil to these butchers. He’d hardly slept again for working himself up into a lather at the scenario to come, and his head ached fiercely. Headlights suddenly illuminated the car, and a four-by-four swept past them, driving toward the whale. Conor tensed, because if this was an unauthorized person, he’d have something to say about it.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 4 He climbed from the car and slammed the door, setting off across the sand to where the vehicle had pulled up. Four people got out, three turning to face him, one starting toward the whale, clearly oblivious to his presence. “Hi there, you must be the police.” A balding man stepped forward, holding his hand out. “Pierce Adams, Wrigley Institute for Environmental Studies, University of Southern California.” Conor nodded curtly and shook the man’s hand, less than impressed. “Inspector Conor Kelly, chief of Garda. That’s Sgt. John Doyle.” The two of them shook hands with the two men and one woman with introductions all around while Conor’s gaze strayed to the man who appeared to be running his hands down the side of the whale and talking to it. “That’s Eli Sanders, comparative anatomist, marine biologist, zoologist….” Conor walked off in the middle of his inventory. He approached the man in the blue parka. “You in charge of this farce?” The man turned around, eyebrows raised at Conor’s abrupt tone. A shade under six feet, slightly shorter than Conor with a lean body, he was pale in the wan morning light with short, dark brown hair and impossibly dark eyes—probably a trick of the light. He looked about thirty-five, and the muddy light did nothing to disguise how attractive he was. “Farce?” “Yeah. Farce. Cutting a whale up on my beach.” “Ah, right.” Eli Sanders’ accent was strong. Conor almost heard the sunshine and palm trees in it. “You must be the cops.” “I’m the chief of police is who I am, and I want you to know that I don’t agree with this in any way, shape, or form.” “Right. Okay.” Eli seemed disinterested and sarcastic. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m Eli Sanders.” He held out a gloved hand.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 5 Conor ignored it. “I already got your name and an extensive list of your qualifications from your mate over there. This is my beach, and I’m in charge. You play by my rules or I shut this circus down. Got it?” A small smile quirked Eli’s full, sensual mouth. “Yes, sir. What’s your name?” “Inspector Kelly.” “Well, Inspector Kelly, that’s a great accent you got there. I always got a little weak at the knees for the Irish accent ever since I saw Daniel Day Lewis in In the Name of the Father.” Eli smirked, dark eyes almost gleaming in the half light. Conor stared at him, suddenly wrong-footed and embarrassed. Confusion swept through him. Was the American mocking him or…? No, it couldn’t be the latter. He turned and walked away quickly with his face burning.

ELI SANDERS watched him go. What was the deal with the police inspector? He had expected some antagonism from the locals but not this much, and he didn’t want the project marred by squabbling and the cop throwing his weight around. What an asshole. But God, what a hot asshole. Even in the virtual darkness, his physical attributes stood out. The uniform, the startlingly blue eyes and black hair, the big shoulders and broad chest under that jacket. God, just imagine if Inspector Kelly really lost it with Eli and ended up restraining him, cuffing him, and throwing him in the back of his car. His pants tightened uncontrollably at the thought of being manhandled by the cop. Jesus Christ, now was not the time for admiring the locals and their divine accents. Mind on the job, Eli, mind on the job. But his eyes followed the cop’s muscular form all the way back to his patrol car, and against his will he looked forward to crossing paths with the brusque Inspector Kelly once more.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 6

Chapter 2 CONOR avoided Eli Sanders for the rest of the day. Not that it was difficult when he had crowd control to take care of, making sure barriers were manned and onlookers didn’t get too close to the flood of intestines that coiled from the whale’s belly when it was slit open. A camera crew had set up, their lights illuminating the dim beach starkly, dozens of them scurrying about behind the scenes. Heavy machinery arrived. The intestines were scooped up, taken to another part of the beach, and laid out. Meanwhile, Eli was dressed in protective gear and goggles, scalpel in hand, keeping up a steady stream of chatter for the camera. Conor watched him, lip curled, feeling nauseated at the blood that splattered Eli’s plastic overalls, imagining the stains would never come out of the sand. It was freezing, the wind howling, the rain intermittent, and he longed to go back to the cozy station and write paperwork. Anything to get him off this beach. The only positive side was that the tide started to come in at three and the whale was covered for the night, everyone packing up, the crowd dissipating. Conor waited to make sure everyone left, looking forward to a hot shower and a glass of wine. Some of the camera crew and Eli’s self-important colleague, Piers, chatted to him, and Conor answered in monosyllables, gaze drifting back to the anatomist, watching him discard his overalls, goggles, and hat. Eli glanced over at Conor a moment before he walked to the four–by-four and climbed in. Conor turned away, rounding up John to go back to the car.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 7

THERE was no wine in the fridge, and Conor was wearing pajama bottoms, his hair wet. He cursed because he needed a drink and no way did he want to brave the elements tonight. It was eight o’clock, and he intended to be asleep by nine. Sighing, he went upstairs and pulled on some jeans and a T-shirt. Then he toweled his hair dry as best he could and went down, taking his coat and car keys. The pub was closer than the shop, just at the end of the lane, so he popped in there for a bottle, anticipating being back home within five minutes. The pub was busier than he had ever seen it, and he spotted a few familiar faces from the beach: camera crew, the group of academics from California, and people who had travelled to the town just to gawk. He pushed his way to the bar, greeted by locals and strangers who recognized him from the beach. He was not in a gregarious mood and declined an offer of a drink from the owner of the local garage, Aidan Bell, his closest friend. Aidan was with a lady, someone Conor hadn’t seen before, but then Aidan went through women the way most people went through underwear. Conor stood waiting to be served, glancing at the list of wines pinned up as though he didn’t know what they sold and then a voice spoke at his shoulder. “Buy you a drink, Inspector? You look like you need one.” Conor turned his head at the accent. Eli Sanders smiled at him. To his astonishment, Conor’s stomach clenched, and his heart took off at a gallop. No, he hadn’t been wrong that morning about how attractive Eli was. Under the harsh lights of the pub, he was stunning. Those eyes were a bright topaz-brown, like honey with dark flecks, fringed by lush lashes, his dark hair glossy and neatly combed into place, his lips a pale, delicate pink and perfectly symmetrical, top and bottom, as though drawn by an artist, catching the eye far too readily. Eli’s pale skin was scattered with a few freckles across the bridge of his nose, and there were dimples around his mouth when he smiled, showing perfect, pearly teeth. Conor stared. If he had ever seen anyone more attractive in his life, he couldn’t remember.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 8 Eli’s smile widened, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on Conor. “Is that a yes?” Conor snapped out of it. “No, thanks, I’m not staying.” He turned his head away, trying to get the barman’s attention, his hand clammy around the note he held. “Shame. I know we got off on the wrong foot this morning, and….” Eli paused. “I’d much prefer you as my friend rather than my enemy.” Conor’s gaze swung back to his. No, he hadn’t imagined Eli coming onto him at all that morning, because he seemed to be doing it now too. Conor could hardly breathe with shock that someone as physically blessed as Eli would be interested in him, and then he became suspicious. The American was trying to butter him up so Conor would make it easy for him to get his job finished. He must have picked up on the spark of interest in Conor’s eye and used it to his advantage. Maybe he wasn’t even gay and was merely having a laugh at Conor’s expense. Conor clenched his jaw and nodded at the barman, ordering his wine. “I’ve got a job to do,” he told Eli with a sideways glare. “So you can knock it off.” “Knock what off?” Conor ignored him. “Get your post-mortem done then get the hell out of my town and let us get back to normal.” He took the wine, handed over the note, and stalked away.

CONOR

opened the wine at home and fed Cinnamon, his large ginger tom with the ocean green eyes and almost unfeasibly long white whiskers. He sat down and channel flicked the TV, his mind firmly on the American, unable to shift Eli from his thoughts. Conor guessed that telling himself Eli’s interest must be false was a sure sign of how lacking in confidence he was. He’d always slept with women, until seven years ago when he’d fallen, and fallen hard, for a male student from the University of Limerick doing a PhD thesis on marine ecology in the town. Liam, five years

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 9 younger than him and sexually aggressive, had seduced Conor with ease and then left at the end of the summer, taking Conor’s heart with him. He had promised to write and visit, but it had never happened. The last he had heard, Liam was living in New York. Conor’s love life had gone from bad to worse ever since. Choice was limited around a tiny town where everyone knew everyone else, and homosexuality was frowned upon. People knew about Conor and Liam. Conor had tried his hardest to maintain discretion, but Liam was wildly out and didn’t much care that Conor had to stay here, picking up the pieces afterward and being talked about. Now Conor was thirty-seven, and as far as he could see, his chance had been and gone. He was unused, all the mad promise of youth gone unheeded, his few affairs coming to nothing, no ring or child to show for any of them. He wilted, like a rosebud baking in the summer sun, dying without ever opening up, the center still fresh and tender and untaken. He had once dreamed of someone plucking him from the stem before it was too late, but not anymore. He was going to stay alone, and he might as well get used to that fact. He didn’t need the glorious Californian boy rubbing his face in it.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 10

Chapter 3 “HOW are you feeling this morning, Inspector Kelly? You look like you haven’t slept in a month.” Conor had just stepped from his patrol car, holding a coffee, when Eli walked up. He scowled. He’d slept about four hours last night, and the shadows under his eyes had deepened to black. He knew he looked terrible. “When you and your cronies have gone home, I’ll sleep just fine.” “Well I’m sorry I’ve been keeping you up all night.” Eli’s face was a picture of studied innocence, but his mouth twitched with a smirk. Conor reddened because, damn it, most of his thoughts lying sleepless in the early hours had involved this man. Eli had to be just teasing, because Conor honestly didn’t think he was so transparent—or was he? He glared at Eli. “Why don’t you get back to your butcher’s shop?” Eli’s expression darkened. “What is it you object to here anyway, Inspector? Me autopsying the whale or you having to work a little bit harder to earn your money?” Conor bristled. “The former.” “Why?” “Because it’s not right.” “Why not?” Eli looked genuinely confused.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 11 “Because I watched this animal struggle for life for two days before it died, and instead of giving it some dignity finally, you cut it to pieces while the entire population of Ireland watches.” Eli seemed taken aback. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said, and his tone was actually repentant, his eyes earnest. “And its death is a tragedy that I wish with my whole heart could have been averted. But this is educational. Some good can come from it.” “Yeah.” Conor was about to stalk past him when Eli stepped forward, effectively pinning Conor against the door of his patrol car. To get past, Conor would have to physically remove him. His shoulders slumped and he sighed, bracing himself for further conversation with the American. “You don’t believe me. Do you think I’m doing this for my own benefit rather than mankind’s as a whole?” Eli’s honey-colored eyes were fixed unblinkingly on his. “Well, you get to be on TV don’t you?” Conor retorted flippantly. “And I’m sure it’ll advance your career no end.” Eli smiled wryly and his eyes almost glowed, holding Conor entranced. “You’re so cynical, Officer. Who’s made you this way?” The words were a barb that struck surprisingly deep, and Conor’s face must have been an open book because Eli stared a moment, frowning before he seemed to gather himself. “Look, all I’m saying is don’t make me out to the bad guy here. If I didn’t care deeply about animals, I wouldn’t be doing this job. Yes, it’ll look great on my resumé, but it’ll also bring more money into my conservation projects if the right people see me doing this. Do you understand?” Why was Eli at such pains to explain himself? Why did he care what Conor thought of him? Was his harmless flirting about to become a serious play for Conor’s affections? Conor almost laughed at the direction of his own thoughts. As if he could ever be so lucky. In the long silence, the two stood watching each other.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 12 “If you say so,” Conor said finally. “At the end of the day, all this is about money, so excuse me if I don’t believe the tales of a man who has plenty.” Eli laughed shortly, looking incredulous. “You think I have money? I get my barest expenses covered by my research grants. I write articles for magazines to pay my rent. I just gave my savings of two thousand bucks to the local animal shelter because it was going to have to close. So please don’t suggest, Officer, that I’m doing this for anything other than love.” Conor was taken aback. Guilt stabbed at him. The man who had been introduced to him by his list of qualifications was nothing like he might have imagined. He had thought of a remote, haughty academic, demanding his own dressing room on the beach and making sure that the camera always got his best side. He had imagined never getting close enough to the head of this important project to even have a conversation with him. Instead, he expected to be treated as one of Eli’s underlings. Like Eli had said, someone had made him cynical. That someone was another man with the same job. Eli’s expression relaxed as though he realized his rant had done more than enough. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “You got me started there. I usually have to defend myself to the locals everywhere I go.” Something tugged a little at Conor’s heartstrings. What he was looking at here was a good man. He didn’t want the attentions of a good man when all he knew was the likes of Liam. It would be that much harder to resist someone like Eli. Why couldn’t Eli have been an unattractive bastard of a man whom Conor hated on sight? Try as he might to hate Eli for coming here to do this job, he couldn’t. He also didn’t believe anymore that Eli was faking his interest in him. He was too genuine for that. Conor looked away from those hypnotic eyes. “I need to get to work, if you’ll excuse me.” Eli stepped aside, and Conor made his escape with relief. “Inspector?” Eli called behind him, forcing him to stop. “Do you have a first name?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 13 “Conor.” It was said between his teeth. “May I call you by it?” “Do what you want,” Conor replied ungraciously and walked away.

ELI

was standing in the mouth of the whale, his almost-six-feet frame dwarfed by the mammal. Conor leaned back against his patrol car, the wind stinging his eyes, drawing tears from them which he wiped away with the back of one glove.

His mood was sour. Curse the weather, curse all these people, and curse Eli. This man had turned his life upside down. He had become a bad tempered, surly insomniac, and all the anatomist did was mock him, seeming to look straight inside him and see Conor’s sad little life for what it was. The camera panned in on Eli. He climbed down and poked the whale’s tongue with one hand, explaining its functions enthusiastically. Conor had speculated that it was all just science and meat to Eli and that he wasn’t bothered at all that a living creature had died in order to fund his all-expenses-paid trip and appearance on TV. Now he knew different. He was so tired. He knew that a good night’s sleep would probably put things into perspective and he would see he had overreacted and been unfair to the American, but right now he could barely see straight. It had started to rain, and the first few fat drops quickly turned into a deluge. He pulled the hood of his parka up and glanced around the camera crew, hoping they would call off the filming. There was movement and discussion, and some of the spectators started to hurry for shelter. As much as the idea of stopping appealed to Conor, though, any delay would just mean the group would take even longer to get the post-mortem finished. But yes, the crew had definitely called time. People were packing up, and Conor was relieved and looking forward to bed.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 14 A call came in on the way back to the station—some car vandalism on the other side of the harbor. John turned the car around, and Conor tiredly rested his head back and closed his eyes.

SOMEONE had taken a key to several cars on one street and smashed a few wing mirrors. Donal McNamara at the bottom of the hill had had his car stolen. It had been unlocked, of course, because everyone left their cars unlocked around here. John drove them back to the station, stopping outside the convenience store on the way for some essentials. Conor waited in the car, brooding. Crime around here was almost unheard of. Conor couldn’t remember the last time he’d had recourse to draw his baton, and he’d certainly never needed his new CS gas so far. He got himself more and more worked up as he sat there, because this wasn’t the first crime that week. Trouble had arrived with the whale and its audience of ghouls. He climbed out of the car and started to pace in the freezing night air. He wished to God he could shut down the post-mortem and send everyone away, but the mayor’s decision had been final. It was good for the town. Local businesses were booming. Everyone was happy. Conor was perhaps the only pissed-off man in town. He looked up as someone came out of the store, thinking it was John, and then he paused mid-step when he recognized the American. Suddenly his anger had a potential vent. Eli looked up, a smile crossing his face when he saw Conor. “Good evening, Officer,” he said politely, pushing a mobile phone into his back pocket. “What’s the deal anyway with all the place names around here being in Gaelic? I got lost as soon as I stepped out of my hotel. For a town whose main income is probably tourism, you don’t exactly cater to them.” Conor regarded him a moment. “I personally couldn’t give a shit about tourists. Especially American tourists.” Eli raised one eyebrow. “Now I know you’re lying.” “Really?” Conor’s heart beat a little too hard.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 15 “Yes, really.” Eli gave a secretive smile, which made Conor redden uncontrollably. He tried to get the upper hand back. “You know what? All your tourists have done for me is increase my workload and lengthen my day. I’ve been too busy dealing with the fall-out of all the undesirables you’ve brought our way to think about going home.” Eli’s smile fell. “I’ve brought? I brought them personally, did I? Your crime figures are my fault?” “Yeah. Wasn’t this whole thing your idea?” “What, to beach the whale?” Eli looked pissed off and irritated, brows drawn together in a frown. “You know what I mean.” “I don’t think I do.” Eli stepped closer. “The fact you can’t deal with a bit of crowd control and can’t sit on your ass drinking fifteen cups of coffee a day and eating doughnuts is my fault, is it?” Conor lost the plot suddenly. As someone who very rarely flew into a temper, he did just that, to his everlasting shame. He lunged forward, pushing Eli roughly back, wanting to close the other’s smart mouth for good. Eli merely inflamed his anger by fighting back. He shoved Conor away, grappling with him, cursing, and Conor saw red. He grabbed Eli by one arm, spinning him around and yanking it up his back before he slammed Eli face first over the patrol car, reaching for his cuffs. “What the fuck are you doing, asshole?” Eli cried, struggling furiously. “Assaulting a police officer is a crime,” Conor retorted smartly, cuffing him and dragging Eli upright. “What the fuck? You fucking assaulted me first!” “You’ve got a foul Yank mouth. Watch your head.” Conor opened the back door and bundled Eli inside, slamming it behind him.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 16 “What on earth are you doing?” John stood staring from the other side of the car. Conor shook his head, jaw clenched. “Just drive.”

“YOU’VE arrested him. What the hell for?” John stood over Conor’s desk, voice lowered to a whisper. “He assaulted me.” “Really?” “Yes, really.” “What are you doing? You’ve had it in for this guy since he got here. What’s going on?” Conor looked up, glaring. “Meaning?” “You know what I mean.” “Do I?” “Yes.” Conor held eye contact steadily. “Whatever you mean, you better shut up right now, John. I’m warning you.” John leaned further over the desk. In the cell behind him, Eli sat on the bunk, hands uncuffed, face sullen. “He seems like a nice bloke. If you want to, there’s better ways of….” Conor stood abruptly. “I swear to God, John, one more fucking word…,” he growled. John sighed. He backed off, hands raised. “I’m going home. I’ll leave you to it.” Conor watched him leave. He spared a glare for Eli as he sank back into his seat. John knew about him and Liam. John was his friend. There had never been any judgment or disapproval on his part. He accepted Conor for what he was when even Conor wasn’t sure what he was. Not any more. He only knew it’d been so long since he’d been physically intimate with someone that at

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 17 times his body cried out for it. Hell, just pushing Eli over the car the way he did had stirred his loins inappropriately. He glanced up again, met by stony, dark eyes. “I need to use the bathroom.” “Is that so?” Conor regarded him, debating whether to ignore Eli until he was bursting, but he wasn’t a cruel man and had no desire to watch the American wet his pants. He got up, taking the key from the desk, going over to the cell and unlocking the door. Pulling it open, he reached in and took Eli firmly by the arm, his biceps muscular even through the thick jacket he wore. “Do I need to cuff you?” Eli rolled his eyes. “No. What am I going to do? Assault you again?” “Move.” Conor pushed Eli in front of him, down to the far end of the room and through a door. In front of him were two cubicles and three urinals. Eli spared him another venomous glance as the door swung shut. “Going to watch, are you? Want to hold it for me?” Conor let go of him in distaste and motioned to the urinals. Then he stood against the wall with his arms folded. Eli went to the urinal in the middle. He pulled his jacket open and unzipped loudly before there came the sound of liquid hitting porcelain. Conor studied the ceiling. What on earth had he done here? What exactly was he going to charge Eli with? Being too hot for his own good and setting Conor’s pulse racing for the first time in seven years? He would have to let him go with a caution, although he didn’t yet know what sort of caution. Threatening behavior? Causing a disturbance? All he had done was suggest Conor liked to sit on his arse eating doughnuts rather than work. Which really wasn’t true. Eli had been watching too many American cop shows. Conor didn’t even eat doughnuts. Eli had fastened up and moved to the sinks. He washed his hands with soap and took his time drying them under the electric dryer while Conor became impatient. Then he turned around and looked Conor in the eye, and something about his expression rooted Conor to the spot.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 18 Eli strode across the room purposefully. He took hold of Conor’s neck with one hand and kissed him firmly. Conor gasped. Shocked, he stumbled back against the door, but Eli merely came with him, attached to him like a limpet, lips efficient in both delivering and taking what they wanted. Oh God, the kiss was glorious. Eli’s mouth was soft as pillows and as succulent as ripe fruit. It was both tender and passionate. It explored Conor’s mouth thoroughly, seducing him, weakening him, pulling a reluctant response from him. His hands clutched at Eli’s jacket, then one hooked over his shoulder to hold his head, while the other arm wrapped around Eli’s back. Eli gave a soft little moan of desire that lifted goose bumps all over Conor’s body. He pressed closer, pushing Conor back against the door, one hand over his shoulder, pinning him in place while he kissed Conor ever more deeply. A door banged in the distance. Eli stumbled backward, startled, and for a moment, the two stared at each other wordlessly. Then Conor pulled open the door and pushed Eli through, his hand moving unbidden from his shoulder and down his back before he let go. Eli moved obediently back to his cell. “Hello, Sergeant Kavanagh,” he greeted the night officer who stood frowning by his desk. “Hello, Eli,” Cormac Kavanagh replied, glancing at Conor in confusion. A little spark of irrational jealousy stabbed at Conor that Cormac was on first-name terms with Eli. Cormac was forty-five and married, a little overweight with a heavy jaw and large nose. Hardly Eli’s type. But then, what was Eli’s type? Conor? He set his shoulders as Eli stepped back into the open cell and said quietly, with as much dignity as he could muster, “You can go now.” Eli turned to look at him in surprise. He hesitated, glancing at Cormac, and then he walked out of the police station without a word. “You arrested him?” Cormac asked. “What did he do?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 19 Conor went to his desk for his car keys, pulling his hat and gloves on. “We had an altercation.” “Did you? He’s a nice bloke, Conor. He bought drinks for everyone in the pub last night.” “If one more person tells me he’s a nice bloke…,” Conor muttered under his breath. “What were you doing in the bathroom with him?” Conor’s gaze cut sharply to his. “Taking him for a pee, what else?” Jesus Christ, Cormac actually looked skeptical. Conor had committed one indiscretion with another man, and now he wasn’t to be trusted around men as attractive as Eli? John had accused him of arresting Eli to meet his own needs and now Cormac was, what? Suggesting something untoward had gone in the privacy of the bathroom? But something had, he reminded himself, as his cheeks heated involuntarily. That was all Eli, though. Conor hadn’t abused his power or forced himself on the captive. No, Eli had done the forcing. And what delicious punishment it had been too. Oh God. He glowered at Cormac. “I’m going home.” He turned and walked away, ignoring Cormac’s goodnight wishes. Outside, it was lashing down with rain, and as Conor stood there a moment in the shelter of the doorway to compose himself, a dark shape loomed out of the shadows. “Any chance of a ride back to my hotel?” Conor’s heart lurched uncontrollably. “It’s not that far,” he pointed out uncharitably, because no way did he want this man in his car. Not when, if Eli kissed him again, Conor would probably lose all his self-control. “It’s raining cats and dogs,” Eli pointed out. “And you kind of owe me.” He grinned—a mocking grin, teeth gleaming in the dark. As far as Conor could see, Eli had got his own back by kissing Conor into submission, but he said nothing, just set off to his car, leaving Eli to follow him.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 20 Once they were both inside, dripping wet from the short run from the police station, Conor started the engine and set the heaters to high as the windscreen quickly misted over from their combined breaths. Eli was first to break the silence. “Look….” Conor’s stomach clenched as he waited for Eli to mention the kiss. “I’m sorry about the trouble we’ve caused, okay? I can understand how difficult it must have been for you. I get that you’ve got a job to do. If it’s any consolation, we’ve got another guy arriving from San Diego in a couple of days who’s going to help me with the dissection. It’ll be done a whole lot quicker.” Conor didn’t speak. It surprised him that Eli would offer this apology after Conor had manhandled him and locked him into a cell. He was torn between wanting Eli to go and wanting him to stay after what had just happened between them. But it was all so pointless. He couldn’t allow the same sort of feelings for Eli to grow as he had felt for Liam. Not when Eli would up and leave and trample his heart into the dirt just the way Liam had. He pushed the car into first gear and set off, even though the windscreen was still partly fogged. “And I’ve got to say,” Eli continued, “it’s really nice to see how much you care about animal welfare. You’re wasted as a cop. You should have been a vet or something.” Conor reddened at the praise. “Haven’t got the brains,” he muttered. Was Eli going to mention the kiss or carry on pretending it hadn’t happened? “I’m sure you do,” Eli said graciously. “You seem like a bright guy to me.” Conor said nothing. He stopped at some traffic lights. The uncomfortable silence grew. Maybe Eli had accepted that he was never going to get a decent conversation from Conor. He turned left at the lights and pulled up outside the only hotel in town. “Thanks,” Eli said. He opened the door, letting in a cold rush of night air, the light on the roof illuminating his pale face and beautiful eyes.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 21 “Eli.” It was the first time Conor had spoken the other man’s name. He felt like he had to say something before the American left. He might never get the chance again. “I’m sorry, okay? For….” He gestured vaguely back in the direction of the police station and then hoped Eli didn’t think he was apologizing for the kiss that Eli had instigated in the first place. Eli shrugged. “It’s fine. I was rude; I deserved it.” He reached suddenly across, cupping Conor’s cheek in one cold palm, his eyes like warm honey. “You kiss like an angel, by the way.” He got out and slammed the door, not looking back as he walked into the hotel. Conor stared after him with his dead heart coming back to life in his chest.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 22

Chapter 4 THE

weather was getting worse. The wind howled, the wet sand clung to everything, and the rain battered each person on the beach relentlessly. Some of the observers had stayed away today. Others kept doggedly to their task, digital cameras recording the post-mortem.

Conor sat in his car with his parka zipped up to his chin, hat pulled low. His conversation with John had been monosyllabic so far that morning. He had lain awake for hours last night after dropping Eli at his hotel, alternately cursing himself for arresting the American and cursing himself for responding to his kiss. Jesus, his lips still burned even now. He still felt a strong hand holding the back of his neck and a lean body pressed against his, the muscle obvious even through layers of winter clothes. His imagination had taken that kiss last night and embellished it, leading to him stripping Eli of necessary clothes, turning him around, pushing him against the door and taking him there, burying himself deeply inside Eli’s welcoming body. He had masturbated, groaning in torment there on that bed as he spilled into his own hand and wished there was someone lying warm beside him. It made a change not to think about Liam when he did it, at any rate. It made a change to have a different fantasy for once. Eli would have at least done him that favor when he left for California. Eli was surrounded by people over at the whale carcass, barely recognizable in his protective gear and goggles, swaddled from head to toe. But Conor had watched him for several days now, and he recognized how Eli moved, how he walked, the gestures he used with his hands. He recognized how Eli made his heart beat faster.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 23

ELI knew Conor was watching him. It was hard to concentrate on his work that day when he remembered that kiss, those lips on his. Conor was interested in him—that much was obvious. Even the little charade of arresting him had told him as much, and the heat Eli felt when he kissed Conor confirmed it. He wasn’t sure it would get any further than the kiss, though, no matter how much Eli wanted it. Conor was a reticent man, and Eli suspected he wasn’t the kind to have flings or one-night stands. That didn’t mean he wasn’t passionate underneath the cool, silent exterior, because God, he was. Eli had had a taste of Conor’s passion and couldn’t forget it. Anything that would happen between them would be a oneoff, with only a few days left in Ireland. That was a shame, but it didn’t put Eli off trying. Men like Conor came along once in a lifetime, and one night was better than nothing at all. To have fantasized about being restrained and manhandled by the cop and then for it to have actually happened was like a dream come true. Eli might have protested at the time, angry in the heat of the moment, but when he thought about it now, he got effortlessly hard. He wasn’t a submissive man as a rule, and he could take or leave bondage games, but any time Conor wanted to use those cuffs on him again, that was fine with Eli. It was all he had thought about last night, tossing and turning in his hotel bed, cock hard and aching for the Irishman. Helplessly, he imagined Conor keeping him in the cell overnight. The keys in the lock woke him from sleep, and suddenly his wrists were cuffed together and he was thrown face down on the narrow bunk. The cop then took what he wanted, invading Eli with fingers, tongue, cock, fucking him senseless until Eli cried out for more.

JOHN

was outside controlling the spectators while Conor dozed inside the car, exhausted. A soft knock on the window with a

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 24 gloved fist woke him. His head jerked up, and he blinked at the man outside before lowering the window. Eli had taken off the protective gear. His dark hair was ruffled endearingly. He held two plastic cups. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I brought you some coffee.” He held one out. Surprised, Conor sat up a little and reached for the cup. “Thank you.” “Don’t you ever sleep, dude? You look exhausted.” Conor put the cup to his lips and regarded Eli over its rim. “I’m having a little problem with insomnia at the moment.” He swallowed, scalding his mouth. “You should see your doctor.” “Thanks for the advice.” Eli was silent for a moment. “Look….” His voice was awkward. “Do you want to get a drink somewhere tonight?” Conor’s mouth stung. Eli was asking him out. He looked into the honey-brown eyes. Eli didn’t want to stop at one kiss, that much was obvious. Conor wasn’t sure what about him was worth pursuing, and he had no intention of being Eli’s few-night plaything like he had been Liam’s three month plaything. “I’m busy tonight.” Eli looked disappointed. “Tomorrow?” “Busy tomorrow.” Eli’s eyes grew a little cold at the blatant snub. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am.” He turned and walked away. Conor put his window up. He sat and watched Eli speak to one of his colleagues. The man put a friendly hand on Eli’s shoulder, and even this small gesture caused that spark of jealousy once again. One kiss didn’t give Conor a claim over Eli, and if he wanted him that much, he would have said yes, wouldn’t he? But he hadn’t. Eli had done all the running. He had twice asked to buy Conor a drink now, and he had kissed him, for God’s sake, and still Conor had refused his advances. He deserved to be alone. He closed his eyes, hating himself for his cowardice.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 25

CONOR

had showered and was in front of the TV with a glass of wine when the phone rang. He got up and answered it. “Hey,” Aidan Bell said. “You coming for a jar?” Conor hesitated. “No.” “Come on, stop hiding away. I want to see you.” Conor sighed. “All right. I’ll meet you in half an hour.” “Good lad. See you then.” Aidan hung up.

CONOR

looked nervously around the pub as he walked in. There was more than one drinking establishment in town. Eli wouldn’t necessarily be here, but then this one was the one he had previously seen the American in. Aidan waved to him from the bar, and Conor joined him. Aidan waited until they were seated with drinks before he launched into it. “So, I heard you arrested one of the Yanks last night.” Conor groaned inwardly. “What did he do?” “We had an altercation.” “Really? But you let him go, didn’t you?” “Cormac’s got a big mouth.” “Who says it was Cormac?” “I didn’t see anybody else there.” “Maybe I spoke to your mate. You like marine biologists, don’t you, Conor?” Aidan smiled slyly. He was an attractive man of thirty-eight with sandy hair and pale blue eyes. His charm worked effortlessly on the local ladies.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 26 Conor stared him down stonily. “Got something to say, Aidan?” “Maybe. People have seen you two talking a couple of times on the beach. I saw you talking to him in here. You know how people gossip. They have long memories. They see you with an attractive bloke; they immediately presume you’re fucking him.” Conor blushed. “Don’t be so crude. I’ve just met the man. I don’t even like him.” “Why not? Everyone else does.” Aidan gestured across the room to a noisy group. In the middle of the table sat Eli. Conor wished he could crawl away and hide. Eli noticed him and smiled radiantly. “Now don’t tell me he smiles like that at everyone,” Aidan teased. “He likes you.” “Knock it off.” “That first night he arrived, when you were in here, he offered to buy you a drink, and you turned him down, didn’t you?” “Jesus Christ, there’s spies everywhere. Look, I came here for a drink, not the Spanish Inquisition, so give it a rest.” “Sure. Let’s get your mate over here.” Aidan lifted his hand and gestured to Eli. “What are you doing?” Conor hissed in panic. “Relax. You’ve been alone too long, my friend. It’s time we did something about that. He’s a good-looking guy, Conor. Even I’ll admit that, and I’m straight. You and he would be great together.” “Look, I’m not going to have some affair with a fucking—” A shadow loomed over the table. “Ah hello there,” Aidan said with a smile, turning on the Irish charm. “I’m Aidan. Conor was just telling me all about you.” Conor looked up at Eli, red-faced. Eli looked skeptical. He gave a wry smile. “Please join us for a drink,” Aidan said, indicating the chair opposite.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 27 Eli sat down. “Nice to meet you, Aidan, I’m Eli,” he said, and they shook hands. “So where are you from, Eli?” “Seal Beach, Orange County.” “Is that as exotic as it sounds?” Eli smiled. “It’s okay. I live in Santa Monica now.” “That must be great,” Aidan said. “Sunshine, beautiful people… and then you have to come here.” He grimaced. Eli shrugged and picked up his drink. “There’s no sunshine, but who says the people aren’t beautiful here?” He turned his honey eyes on Conor. Conor’s face heated ever further. Aidan grinned. “We have our share. Conor’s been asked to do a naked cop calendar five years running now.” Eli’s gaze remained fixed on him, and Conor almost basked at the interest in his eyes. “Really?” Eli asked. “Did you do it?” “Not really my scene,” Conor mumbled, addressing his pint. “I don’t think people would take me very seriously as a police officer if they had a picture of my naked arse hanging in their kitchen.” “Oh, I don’t know. I’d take you very seriously,” Eli replied, holding steady eye contact. Christ, every word Eli came out with was loaded with meaning and flirtation, and Conor’s cock was standing to attention. Looking at the American, he almost tasted those ripe lips on his once more. At the moment he wanted nothing more than to lean across the table and kiss Eli, sucking that sweetness from his mouth. Aidan stood up. “Right then, I’ll get more drinks. Same again, Eli?” “Yes, thanks.” Aidan winked at Conor behind Eli’s back as he went to the bar.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 28 Conor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Once more, he remembered lying with his dick in his hand last night thinking about making love to this man. Jesus, Eli was going to drive him out of his mind. “So Aidan was your date for this evening then?” Eli broke into his thoughts. “What?” “Why you turned me down.” Conor shook his head. He took his time choosing his words. “No, I turned you down because I didn’t want to go out with you.” “Right.” Eli looked hurt but tried to hide it. “I don’t want you getting any ideas.” “I’ve already got ideas, Conor,” Eli blurted out. “Ideas which are eating my brain alive.” Conor stared at him. For a moment he couldn’t breathe. “Eli….” “I shouldn’t have kissed you last night, I know that. But I did, and you kissed me back, Conor. You wanted it as much as I did.” Conor shook his head. “I’m not going to dissect last night here in the pub,” he said in a low voice, eyes averted. “Fine. Then let’s go somewhere more private.” The two looked at each other a moment before Conor got up. He led the way down the corridor past the toilets and pushed open the back door. This led into a narrow, dark passageway loaded with crates and barrels, puddles glistening under the streetlights. As soon as Eli closed the door behind them, Conor’s stomach churned with butterflies at being alone with him. He turned to face Eli with as determined a look as he could manage on his face. “You’re right you shouldn’t have done it. I’m sure that even in America people don’t kiss the cop who’s arrested them.” Eli smiled, and once again those perfect teeth and dimples made Conor’s heart clench. “The cop who only arrested me because he didn’t know how else to control his attraction to me,” he said smartly.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 29 Conor shook his head. “Yes.” “This is my last word on the subject, Eli. It was wrong, a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened. You’re only here for a week and—” “That’s what this is about isn’t it?” Eli interrupted him. “I’m only here a week. You don’t want to get involved.” “I’m not interested in you regardless of how long you’re here,” Conor lied. “Christ, I’ve just met you. I know nothing about you, and you’re throwing yourself at me.” Eli’s eyes narrowed in displeasure. He moved forward, stepping in a puddle. “When you’ve only got a week, you can’t afford to play it cool,” he pointed out. “Now I’d like to find out how many siblings you’ve got and your mother’s shoe size, sure I would, but I also believe in taking what I want and not beating around the bush.” “What a romantic you are,” Conor said scornfully. He tried to walk around Eli, but Eli caught him by the arm and held him back. Suddenly they were face-to-face, noses almost touching. “Hey, I can do romance any day of the week if that’s what you want,” Eli said earnestly. “I’d like nothing better than an oldfashioned courtship, Conor, if we had the time, believe me. And I’ve no doubt at all that you’d be worth taking my time over. Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow.” Conor trembled. He felt Eli’s warm breath on his face and smelled the wine on it. “No.” “Don’t make me beg.” Eli tightened his hand as Conor tried to shrug away. In the dim light his eyes were almost black. A languid heat overtook Conor. His skin prickled and his cock ached. When Eli put his other arm around his neck, Conor didn’t resist. “Don’t,” he said helplessly as Eli kissed him. It was even better the second time around if that were possible. That soft mouth seemed made to fit his. It seemed to possess Conor’s as though Eli knew exactly what Conor wanted

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 30 and how he needed to be kissed. And God, he needed to be kissed just this way. And still Conor tried to pull away, but Eli held onto him hard. The two stumbled backward, lip-locked, against a beer barrel. Suddenly, Conor was sitting on it with legs open and Eli between them, holding Eli fiercely in his arms as they kissed. Eli pressed closer, hands under Conor’s shirt, fingers cold on his bare skin, tracing his back, moving down to hold him possessively by the hips. Conor flinched under his touch. He moaned softly as Eli’s tongue found his, and he gripped Eli by firm buttocks, pulling him ever closer into his body. One of Eli’s hands gripped his hair, pulling it gently. The American panted for breath as their mouths broke, and Conor sought his neck, nipping the tender skin. “Oh God, I want you,” Eli groaned. His fingers went to Conor’s belt, while the heel of one hand ground deliberately into the bulge under the denim. “What are you doing?” Conor stopped him. “Please.” Eli’s eyes were black with lust, his mouth kissswollen. “What, here?” “I don’t care. I need you.” “Jesus.” Conor pushed him back. “You’re the bloke talking about romance, and the next thing, you want me in the back yard with half the population of Kinroe inside that pub?” Eli huffed in frustration. “Christ, how good a Catholic boy are you, Conor? Don’t you have sex outside marriage?” Conor glared at him. “I don’t have sex with men I just met.” Liar, he berated himself. That’s just what you did with Liam. You were in his bed within a week. “If you want in my pants Eli, you need to do an awful lot better than you have been doing. I’m worth more than two cheap fumbles.” Eli stepped in front of the door, barring Conor’s way. “You think it was cheap?” he demanded, his eyes hurt and serious.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 31 “When I kissed you there in the cop shop, I never meant anything more in my life. You really thought that was cheap?” Conor stared at him, anxiety clawing at his guts, need and desire threatening to boil over inside him. “I don’t want you,” he said. “Please accept that.” Eli looked at him for another moment, and then he turned, wrenched the door open, and vanished. Conor stood where he was, breathing heavily, trembling a little, and trying to compose himself. Eli had taken him to pieces. Why try and fight the attraction? Why not enjoy it while it lasted? Because he didn’t want another aftermath like Liam. He didn’t want to fall in love with this stranger and be left wishing for the rest of his life like even now, seven years later, he still wished for Liam. After a few minutes, he went back inside to Aidan. Eli had gone back to his colleagues across the room, and Aidan raised an eyebrow as Conor sat down. “Thought you’d gone home.” “No, just went for a private word with him.” “About what?” Conor hesitated a moment, but Aidan was his closest friend. He had never even spilled the full story of Liam to him, though. Some things he just couldn’t talk about. “Just letting him know where he stands. That his advances aren’t welcome.” Aidan stared. “He’s made advances to you?” “Yeah, in the station last night. He kissed me.” “Fuck, that bloke’s got balls like watermelons,” Aidan said admiringly. “I’m betting no one you’ve arrested has ever kissed you before. Why exactly aren’t his advances welcome, Conor? You know how I watch body language. I could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife.” “Look, he’s some bloke who’s here a week,” Conor snapped. “I don’t know him; I don’t want to know him. I don’t want some sort of cheap fling and to be left here with everyone talking about me like last time.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 32 “That’s what it boils down to. You’re afraid.” “Fuck off.” “You’re never going to get laid again if you’re afraid to fuck every person you like just because of what these fucking busybodies round here’ll say.” “He’s a man, Aidan.” “And? You’re queer and he’s queer. Fucking get to it!” Conor lowered his head. This was the first time he had ever heard that word applied to himself. Christ, what would his mother say? “Do you remember how much Liam hurt me?” he murmured. “What I was like afterwards?” “Yeah,” Aidan said, tone uncomfortable. Conor hadn’t sought his comfort after Liam, but Aidan had been there for him anyway. He had known without being told what Conor was going through. “Do you want me to be like that again when he’s gone?” Aidan didn’t reply. Conor picked up his drink and took a large gulp. His gaze strayed across the room to Eli, and he ached inside.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 33

Chapter 5 “I BROUGHT you coffee.” Eli held out a Styrofoam cup. Conor was standing by the barricade, keeping eager tourists at bay, stamping his numb feet in the sand in a pointless attempt to regain feeling. Conor was surprised that after last night’s rejection he warranted so much as a glance from Eli. He had to admire the man’s tenacity and thick skin. He took the cup and thanked him. “You look frozen.” Conor grunted. “Do you want to borrow my jacket? I bought it specially; it’s made for arctic explorers or something.” Conor looked at him in surprise and embarrassment. What exactly would the reaction of the people on the beach be—some of whom had already been gossiping about them—if he and Eli stripped off their jackets and traded them? He would be on the front page of the local paper. Conor scores another marine biologist notch on bedpost. “No thanks.” “That’s a shame. It’d go great with your eyes.” Conor glowered at him, glanced at John at the other end of the line, and retreated to his car, leaning against it while he drank his coffee. Eli followed him. He stood a few dignified feet away, but it wasn’t far enough for Conor. “Look, about last night….” Conor shook his head to indicate he really didn’t want to hear this. He looked away, jaw clenched.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 34 “Listen to me. I’d had a drink, which is not an excuse. I came on strong. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t normally behave like this. I guess I don’t usually have to chase guys, and now that I do, I’m obviously not very good at it.” Conor’s gaze moved back to his, as stony as he could make it with his heart turning over in his chest. “You’re wasting your time.” Eli bit his lip. “And last night’s kiss?” “Just a kiss.” Their eyes remained locked for the longest while. Then Eli laughed softly. He stepped back, nodding, the expression on his face wry. “Okay, Conor. I’ve tried my best. You can’t blame a man for trying, but evidently my best isn’t good enough. I wish it was.” A sliver of regret lodged itself in Conor’s throat. Eli’s best was plenty good enough; he had mesmerized Conor with no effort at all from the very first moment. He wished he could have told Eli that. Eli coughed. “So anyway, I was going to ask you this morning if you wanted to help me with some dissection. I can show you some of the anatomy, explain a few things. I thought it might interest you.” Conor was taken aback. If he had been rejected in the manner Eli had been, he wouldn’t have been seen for dust. More than that, he would have been cold and aloof with the rejecter, his feelings on his sleeve for all to see. But he guessed that was where they were different. Because Eli was, he reminded himself again, a good man. A man who would have been good for him. He swallowed. “All right.” Eli smiled, a smile loaded with such sweet sadness that Conor was almost broken apart. “Come with me, and we’ll find you some protective gear.”

CONOR

shook just being near to Eli. He was on the other side of the barricade, dressed from head to toe in plastic and wearing

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 35 goggles. The wind whipped at his overalls and rattled the barriers behind him. John was on crowd control. Conor was being educated. He barely took in a word as he stared into Eli’s beautiful face, eyes lingering on his mouth, so he could remember it that night. Eli seemed business-like. If he had nerves over Conor’s proximity to him, he didn’t show it. He pointed out the plate-like structures in the whale’s mouth. “These are baleen, also known as whalebone. They used to be used to make women’s corsets. They’re the whale’s version of teeth and they’re made of keratin. They work like combs, filtering food from sea water.” He got Conor to stand inside the whale’s mouth with him, arm brushing against his as he gestured. Conor nodded at everything. He glanced suddenly behind him. “Are we… being filmed?” he asked nervously. “Relax,” Eli said. “They’re filming everything. I’m sure you’ll end up on the cutting room floor, Conor, although it’d be a shame with your movie star looks.” Conor flushed. He turned his back to the camera and tried to ignore the smile Eli gave him. Eli moved toward the back of the throat. “Here. Touch these.” Eli’s gloved hand caught his. “Feel that?” He drew Conor’s hand back and forward and it seemed his fingers entwined deliberately with Conor’s, lingering. “These grooves are called ventral pleats, and they help evacuate water from the mouth while the whale’s feeding by squeezing it out through the baleen.” Conor didn’t pull his hand back. He lifted his gaze to Eli’s and stared into the honey eyes, counting each dark fleck on the iris. Beautiful. His attraction to Eli grew with every passing minute. What was he going to do? If Eli didn’t let go of his hand soon, Conor would probably lunge at him and kiss the smile right off his face. Eli turned to face the camera. He brushed so close to Conor that his lips almost touched his cheek and Conor caught the scent of expensive cologne, his nostrils twitching in excitement. Oh God, would a hard-on show in his overalls? Eli’s words were drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. His mouth was full of saliva

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 36 as though his body prepared to eat something delicious. His skin was on fire. His gaze moved down Eli’s shapeless overalls and between his legs. He wished he could touch. Right then, he wanted to feel how hard Eli was for him, and he suspected it was pretty bloody hard. What would Eli be like when he was getting fucked? Was he a screamer or silent? Conor imagined Eli’s cool composure would be lost in bed. He would cry out for more, writhing on the sheets as Conor’s cock speared him over and over, bringing them both to climax. Oh God, if he didn’t calm his imagination, he would come right here, he was sure of it. What was the matter with him, thinking this way when he had rejected all of this last night? He could have had Eli bent over one of the barrels in the alleyway, his lust sated once and for all. He had been offered it on a plate, and he had turned it down. What an eejit he was. Eli smiled at him again. “So what do you think, Conor? Can you see how perfectly the whale has evolved and adapted to meet its needs?” “Yes,” Conor said, staring into the beautiful eyes once again. “Thanks for the lesson, Eli. I appreciate it.” “The pleasure’s all mine. Any time you need me to teach you again, you know where I am.” Eli’s voice was low and sensual, his offer clearly a sexual one. Did Conor need to be taught? Yes, he did. He needed to be taught how to let go and take what he wanted, what was good for him. He needed to be taught how to let go the specter of Liam. What he was sure he didn’t need to be taught, was how to please Eli. He would know that instinctively once he had the marine biologist naked under him. He held steady eye contact, and Eli actually reddened under his scrutiny as though he read every dirty thought. Conor couldn’t help but smile to himself as he turned away.

THAT night was the same. Conor lying awake

and thinking of Eli, cursing his inactivity and his cowardice, and aching deep down to his soul for just one more kiss and one more touch.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 37

ELI didn’t go to the pub that night, even though drink was all he’d done since he’d arrived in Ireland. Drinking to damp down the flames of need and control himself. He was smarting too much from tangling with Conor again and losing. Standing so close to him there in the mouth of the whale, he could smell Conor’s hair and skin and the coffee on his breath. Jesus, Conor had wanted him then. He was sure of it. That look in his eye, the way his gaze perused Eli’s body. Why wouldn’t he just take what Eli was offering? He was going to go out of his mind. He had never wanted someone so much in his life. Not ever. He lay in his hotel room bed, eyes turned toward the window, the room dappled with moonlight. Outside, rain pattered musically on the roof and the sea crashed distantly against the beach. The weather wasn’t to Eli’s taste, but this place was beautiful, and Conor was the jewel in its crown. He felt wild and impulsive, like missing his flight and staying here to court Conor the way the man needed to be courted. Doing it just right, opening Conor up to him and seeing the beauty that lay inside. He sighed, turning on his back, staring at the ceiling. He would never do it. In a few days, Conor would be lost to him forever. Just an attractive local from one of Eli’s many travels. Just a memory of something that could have been.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 38

Chapter 6 ELI’S

colleague from San Diego must have arrived, because there was a new man on the beach the next morning—tall, taller than Conor’s six feet and well built. That body clearly worked out in the gym, even bigger than Conor’s athletic frame. He seemed chummy with Eli, laughing and joking, slapping him on the back, but as Conor approached the two, seeking a drink from the small stand set up nearby, his spine prickled with unease. Something about the man was deeply familiar. All in a rush it hit him, and his stomach plummeted so fast into his boots that a wave of nausea consumed him. Eli and his colleague turned around, and Conor thought he would pass out. “Conor, this is Liam Ryan from San Diego University. Remember I was….” Eli stopped, frowning at the expression on Conor’s face. “We’ve met.” Liam gave a toothy smile. “How’re you doing, Conor?” “Liam.” Conor nodded, ignoring the hand held out to him. The blood rushed in his ears, his back drenched with sweat beneath his heavy clothes. His summer fling was as Conor remembered him. His Irish accent had a touch of the Yank about it now. Those mischievous gray eyes, that pale, freckled face and strawberry blonde hair. That permanently stubbled jaw, strong and angular. Liam was all man. Especially when you were underneath him begging for more. Conor reddened at his thoughts, and Liam’s grin turned knowing. “It’s been a while,” he said, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Conor’s, just as predatory as always. “We should have a jar tonight.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 39 “No thanks.” “He’s busy tonight,” Eli said at the same time, so Conor’s gaze swung to his in surprise. “He already told me. Didn’t you, Conor?” Their eyes held. Eli was jealous. Conor felt the slightest sliver of satisfaction. “That’s right.” “Shame. Bet you’re married now, right? Don’t tell me you’ve gone back to women, Conor, and I was your experiment?” Conor’s face flamed. He stared Liam down stonily. “Great experiment it was, though. I enjoyed every single second of it.” He enunciated each of the last five words slowly and carefully, his smile cocky and knowing. Conor regarded him for another moment before he said, “You’re an even bigger dick than I remember, Liam.” He walked away to get his coffee. Behind him he heard Liam cackling, telling Eli, “He always played hard to get. It was a different story in bed.” Conor clenched his fists and closed his eyes, fighting with himself not to make a scene by punching Liam in front of his other professional colleagues. He felt such shame that the interchange had happened in front of Eli, who would be bound to stop pursuing him now Liam had appeared. Conor wasn’t sure he wanted Eli to lose interest, and he cursed his own contrariness and indecisiveness. He couldn’t believe Liam was back. And he couldn’t believe the effect his ex-lover still had on him. Even now, he trembled with adrenaline, having to hold his coffee in both hands to avoid slopping it over the sides of the cup. He made his way back to his car, hoping John could hold the fort while he continued to fall to pieces. Footsteps sounded behind him. “Are you okay?” Conor turned around to see Eli, and his heart flared with shame once more. “Yeah.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 40 “He your ex?” “Not an ex. More of a….” Cheap fling, he wanted to finish. Cheap on Liam’s part anyway. “He was mean to you. I feel like knocking him out.” Conor’s gaze jerked to his. His breath was caught in his chest. The honey eyes were dark with emotion. Jesus, did Eli actually feel something beyond lust for him? “I can handle him myself, thanks,” he said stiffly. “Don’t worry about me.” Eli lowered his head. He scuffed the toe of one boot against the sand a moment. “Yeah, well, I’m glad you didn’t say yes to him when you said no to me.” He walked away, leaving Conor staring after him. He climbed into the car and started the engine. He needed to be away from the beach, away from these two men who seemed to eye him like dogs with a bone between them. He drove up to the main road and headed for the station, glad of the solitude inside. He sat at his desk with head in his hands. Jesus Christ. Liam. After seven years. And if it wasn’t for Eli, Conor was probably just desperate enough to go there again after all this water under the bridge.

ELI was

shocked at how jealous he was. He still stung at Conor’s rebuff outside the pub two nights ago, and he burned green at the words Liam and Conor had traded in front of him, the fact that they had shared a deeply intimate relationship abundantly clear. Conor had gone so pale when he had seen Liam it looked like he would pass out. So Liam was Conor’s first man? That in itself was reason enough to be jealous. Liam and Conor had shared something special right there even if Conor was keen to play down the fact that the two had actually ever been a couple. Was Liam right that Conor had gone back to women? Maybe that was why he’d turned Eli down. Maybe he actually had a girlfriend, and Eli had made a fool of himself. But he reminded himself yet again about the kisses. About the heat he had not imagined and Conor’s response to him. No, Conor wanted him, but something was

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 41 stopping him from saying yes. Perhaps that something was Liam. Maybe that asshole had actually broken Conor’s heart irreparably. It was such a mess. Perhaps Eli could have worn Conor down in the precious few days they had left, but now that Liam had appeared, Eli might as well surrender the prize. He didn’t stand a chance.

“WHAT’S the matter?” Liam asked him at lunch time, when Eli was sitting in a deck chair eating a sandwich quietly, eyes straying up and down the beach, seeking Conor’s car. “Nothing.” “Don’t tell me you’ve got your eye on my ex, Eli?” The two had met several times in a professional capacity and had shared a couple of raucous nights out afterwards. Eli thought Liam was okay, but in small doses. He would certainly never have said he was the right sort of man for somebody like Conor. They were like apples and oranges as far as he could tell. Bluntly put, Conor was sensitive; Liam was an asshole. He didn’t reply, keeping his gaze averted. “You have, haven’t you?” Liam laughed. “Come on, Eli. Listen, he’s great in bed, but I’m not sure he’s worth the hassle, you know?” Eli turned steely eyes on him. “No, I don’t know.” “Well he’s, you know, kind of serious. I guess he expects a lot. Certainly he expected more than I could give him.” Or more than you were prepared to give him, Eli thought silently. He hated this denigration of Conor. He felt ashamed at listening to Liam pick him apart this way and reveal aspects of Conor Eli should not be a party to knowing. He looked at the sandwich in his hand. “I don’t know Liam. I can’t help feeling he wasn’t like this until you made him this way.” “That’s harsh, Eli.” Liam’s voice was cold. “The bloke’s needy and clingy. I didn’t want him around my neck like a fucking

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 42 albatross. He thought it was some grand love affair, and it wasn’t. It was just me getting a steady lay for three months while I pissed about on my PhD. I would stay away if I were you.” Eli stood and hurled his sandwich into a nearby bin. “He’s right—you are a dick,” he spat before he stalked away.

LIAM

watched him go. He wondered if he had done enough to warn Eli off. When he’d been offered the work by the cable channel, he had planned a nice little reunion with Conor during this visit. He hadn’t expected to have competition or see the obvious chemistry between Conor and Eli. He had laid it on thick about Conor and knew it would be enough to keep most redblooded men looking for a good time away. He felt a little bit bad, particularly when he saw how indignant Eli was on Conor’s behalf, but not so bad. It had been the truth after all. But then Liam had tended to think that all men who liked him a lot suffocated him in the end, so he guessed Conor wasn’t too much of an exception after all. What was obvious, though, was that Conor was still needy, and if the stupid eejit hadn’t gone and got himself married, Liam was sure an apology and a kiss would see him a guest in Conor’s bed for the next couple of nights.

SO LIAM

had clearly broken Conor’s heart. Eli trudged back to the whale and pulled on his protective gear furiously. As far as he was concerned, it was Liam’s fault Conor wasn’t more receptive to Eli’s advances. But he could understand why. It would be nothing but a two- or three-day fling. Why would Conor be up for that when clearly he was a man who looked for more and, indeed, deserved more? Eli couldn’t offer him any more than that when he lived thousands of miles away, so he might as well draw a line under his desire now. He couldn’t help but think Liam had a hidden agenda, though, and had played Eli effortlessly.

Liam appeared beside him and started to put on his own gear. “What are we doing? The eye?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 43 “Yeah, let’s dissect the eye, then tomorrow we’ll go back and have a proper look at the GI system, and that should be it.” “Okay. Look, don’t be too pissed off at me. I only told you how it was for your own good. You don’t need Conor’s baggage.” Eli’s head jerked around. “I’ll decide if I need Conor’s baggage,” he said fiercely. “Yeah, well.” Liam’s eyes were cold. “We’ve got a couple of days. If you still want him, I’ll fight you for him.” He held Eli’s gaze confrontationally. Eli’s lip curled contemptuously. “Pistols at dawn? Take him. You’re welcome to him.” He put on his goggles, took his scalpel, then climbed up into the mouth of the whale.

CONOR

didn’t go back to the beach that day. By seven p.m. he was in front of the TV on his second glass of wine, wishing and praying that the whole damn crew would pack up and get the hell out, leaving him to his sad little life. Liam had taken him effortlessly to pieces again. He couldn’t stop his mind going over and over their summer fling and how he had loved Liam. What exactly was there to love about the man anyway? But some part of him still did—why else would he have trembled the way he had as soon as Liam turned those gray eyes on him? Long ago he had told himself Liam was destined to be the love of his life and Conor would never find anyone to replace him. Certainly, Eli would never be the one, not with the time they had. And now that Liam was back, Eli would be backing off gracefully anyway. The first person Conor had been even vaguely interested in for seven long years would be gone forever with only two scorching kisses to show for it.

He leaned back, eyes closed, the TV playing away to itself, and wallowed in his own misery.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 44

ELI

had booked his flight back for the day after tomorrow, along with the rest of his crew. He sat nursing a pint in the pub, listening to some of his colleagues exchanging conversation with the locals, a couple of them playing darts, another two down at the pool table. He felt exhausted. Beaten. He wanted to cry at what he had lost before he ever even had it. “Well, I made it back from the hospital all right,” a voice said above him. “No thanks to you.” A glass of brown liquid was placed on the table before him. “Here. Baileys and ice. You like that shite, don’t you, Eli, you big poof.” Eli glowered up at Liam. “I’m surprised you remembered, you were so drunk last time we went out.”

Liam sat down, thigh pressed against Eli’s, too close for comfort. “I remember lots of things about our last night out.” He smirked lecherously. Eli reddened. They’d both been drunk, and Eli, not usually a fan of one-night stands, had been desperate to get laid. Before he could attempt to pick someone up, though, Liam offered himself. Eli might have been drunk but he hadn’t lost all his faculties. Liam was attractive, but Eli wouldn’t have gone there if he was the last man on earth. He’d got the measure of Liam from only a couple of meetings. It was a shame Conor hadn’t. What exactly had Liam done to him? Had he scarred Conor for all time and left him ruined? Would Conor reject every man who came calling, or was Eli just the unlucky one? “Been hoping to run into you again, Eli, anyway,” Liam continued. “Since I missed my chance last time.” “Forget it,” Eli said fiercely. “Come on. We’re a long way from home, and you obviously need some comfort. You’ve got it bad over Conor. I can understand that. He’s a man you can easily fall in love with.” Eli’s mouth tightened. “Who said anything about falling in love?” “So all this moping is just because you can’t get your end away, is it?” Liam asked. “Bollocks.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 45 Eli didn’t respond. Liam leaned close and spoke into his ear. “We could always take this party to Conor’s house. He’d just about come in his pants if we both turned up at his door.” Eli’s gaze whipped to his. “Are you serious?” “Yeah. Ever had two men, Eli?” Eli looked away. He remembered that fondest of nights at university when two older students had seduced him, plied him with beer and poppers, and fucked him senseless in their room. “Imagine you and me sharing Conor? I told you, he’s not exactly shy in bed. He’s up for most anything, you name it.” Eli was stiffening uncomfortably. “Shut up.” Liam cackled. He downed his Guinness. “Guess I’ll have to go on my own then.” He stood, putting down his glass. “Wish me luck.” Eli stared up at him. Oh God, he wasn’t. This was just a cruel joke to rub Eli’s nose further in it, wasn’t it? Liam had to know he wouldn’t get a good reception at Conor’s house. Liam winked. He turned around and walked out of the pub. Eli sank back against his chair. Please don’t do it, Conor. Don’t have him when you said no to me.

A KNOCK at the door startled Conor. He stood, frowning, looking at the clock. Visitors were few and far between, and his mind went instantly into overdrive, shameful fantasies flooding it of both Liam and Eli come to share him between them, make him their slave for the evening. With an unsteady hand, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Hello, Conor,” Liam said.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 46

Chapter 7 “WHAT’S the deal with you and marine biologists anyway? Are you collecting them or what?” Liam unfastened his coat and threw it over a chair. “What?” The blood heated Conor’s cheeks. “You know what I’m talking about. Eli.” “You’ve got it wrong.” “Have I? Funny, that’s not what he says. He’s up for getting into your pants, Conor.” “Is that what he said?” “Not exactly. He’s more of a gentleman than that, as I’m sure you know. We’re all the same beast underneath, though, aren’t we?” “Speak for yourself.” Liam laughed. He glanced around the living room. “You decorated.” “It has been seven years.” “Yeah. Still got the big ginger cat?” “Yes. He’s upstairs sleeping.” “He always hated me, that cat.” “That’s because he’s a shrewd judge of character. I should have listened to him.” “Come on, there’s no need to be as hostile as your moggy.” “There’s every need.” Conor’s gaze strayed to a bandage around Liam’s left wrist. “What happened?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 47 “Oh, Eli cut me with his scalpel while we were dissecting. Six stitches at the hospital.” “What?” Conor was startled. Liam grinned. “Yeah, he said it wasn’t on purpose but….” He shrugged. “At least he didn’t get my wanking hand.” Conor stared at him. Had Eli done it on purpose? Was he that pissed off with Liam? “What exactly do you want?” He got to the matter in hand. Liam’s smile was soft and seductive. “I’ve come to see how you are.” Conor’s stomach clenched. A rush of blood started to stiffen his cock. “Not interested. Not now.” “Come on.” Liam stepped closer. “For old times’ sake.” “No.” “Conor, this is me you’re talking to. I always saw right through you. Don’t play hard to get. I know you want it.” “Get out, Liam.” Conor’s voice was unsteady. Liam had him backed up right against the couch. “What’s up, saving it for the Yank?” Liam’s tone was scornful. “He won’t be troubling you again, even if he did try to put me out of commission today.” “This has nothing to do with him. I deserve better than you.” “Sure. Thing is, Conor, you’re a man when it comes down to it, and no man says no to getting his cock sucked.” He shoved Conor backward suddenly so he fell onto the couch. Liam was down between his knees and unbuckling his belt before Conor could even react. “Stop.” Liam laughed. “So who’s this hard-on for then?” He pulled the buttons on Conor’s jeans open, reached into his boxers, and withdrew his cock. With teeth gritted, Conor gripped Liam’s shoulder hard, wanting so much to shove him away but not able to, not when the

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 48 man was sliding his erection slowly through his palm with such a wanton look in those gray eyes. Liam smiled slowly. “I bet you’ve missed this, Conor.” He lowered his head and took Conor between his lips. Conor groaned, and his head fell back against the couch. He grabbed a handful of Liam’s hair and pushed his head down further, forcing Liam to take as much as he could. Liam prized his hand off with strong fingers and lifted his head. “Choking me isn’t going to be any sort of revenge, Conor,” he said coolly. “I’ll just bite your dick off. So why don’t you just relax and leave me to it?” Conor glared at him. Liam regarded him for a moment longer with steel in those smoky eyes, and then he took Conor back into his mouth and sucked him all the way to heaven. Conor closed his eyes. Like Liam had said, he was a man when it came down to it, and no man refuses a blowjob. It was just that Conor’s heart and cock had been linked far too closely for far too long, and he hadn’t quite got the message yet that sex was just sex and the person doing it with you didn’t necessarily have to like you an awful lot. That person, ninety-nine point nine times out of a hundred, wouldn’t be your soulmate, no matter how much you hoped they were. He had to either accept this blowjob for the fleeting thrill it was, or push Liam away right now. The latter wasn’t an option. Conor was already too far gone with too much pent-up need for that. He felt like a volcano ready to explode and shower the room with molten lava. Liam’s mouth was so hot and wet on his cock, his tongue so wicked, laving his shaft expertly with smooth, slick strokes, delving into his slit and swiping away the fluid leaking from it. Why was Liam doing this? He was the one getting pleasure here, not Liam. Or was Liam just buttering him up for the main event? Well he’d get a shock then, because Conor didn’t intend to return the favor or put out in any other way. He intended to come down Liam’s throat, button his jeans up and say thanks very much. See how Liam liked being on the receiving end of being used for once. His hips bucked up involuntarily as he felt the aching climb to orgasm, and both Liam’s strong hands pushed his pelvis back

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 49 down, holding Conor hard while his mouth slid wetly up and down. Conor let out a long, helpless moan. He was moments away from ecstasy, and he was sure he was going to feel a hell of a lot better about everything once he had done. Liam lifted his head abruptly. Conor’s eyes snapped open, his mouth parted in surprise and disappointment. Liam smirked. He reached into his back pocket and held out a foil square. “Want to fuck me?” Oh Jesus yes, Conor wanted to. He wanted it so much, but if he did, Liam’s effortless seduction of him within hours of arriving back here would be complete. Seven years of misery and heartache over this man would be compounded by Liam opening him up again and leaving him once more in the abyss. Conor might have been able to take a cold-hearted blowjob, but sex was a whole different story. “Come on,” Liam cajoled as Conor hesitated. He tore open the packet with his teeth and pulled out the condom. He rolled it down Conor’s shaft deftly, and then he stood up, kicking his shoes off and starting to strip. Conor’s mouth went dry as he watched the jeans come down the long, muscular legs, followed by the boxers. Liam’s erection stood proudly at attention from a neat nest of reddish hair, his balls heavy below. Liam had once told Conor he got his balls and crack waxed on a regular basis, and Conor had been most impressed at his dedication. Liam turned around to the armchair behind him. He knelt, facing its back, legs spread wantonly, backside presented. He looked back over his shoulder. “What are you waiting for?” he asked. “If it gets you off better, you can always pretend I’m Eli.” Conor shot him daggers. He stood and moved across to the chair, pulling pants and boxers down to mid-thighs. Then he knelt on the chair behind Liam. His hands slid up Liam’s shirt and wrenched it over his head, leaving his lover totally naked. Liam swayed back against him, breathing heavily with excitement. “Come on, Conor,” he growled. “I want you.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 50 Conor pressed forward, sliding his torso against Liam’s back, shivering at the unfamiliar sensation of skin on skin. Jesus, it had been so long, he could have just rubbed his skin against Liam’s like this for hours. Conor found Liam’s neck and sank his teeth lightly into it, feeling the other man shudder. He put his hands around Liam’s ribcage and held him, nuzzling his throat. Liam moaned, pressing back deliberately, backside rubbing against Conor’s cock, and Conor was possessed. He gripped his cock and pushed it between Liam’s cheeks, seeking his entrance, rubbing back and forward against it a few times, letting the lubricated condom smooth his way. “Oh God….” Liam squirmed against him. “Jesus, Conor, give it to me, oh God, I missed this….” That did it for Conor. He only needed a few emotional words like this to reduce him to putty, to mold him exactly as Liam wanted. He was the biggest fool who ever lived. He thrust forward, spearing Liam all the way. Liam cried out like the good Catholic boy he was. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Mother of God, you’re fucking good!” Conor, with face buried against his neck, managed a wry smile and started to move slowly into him. Every slide into Liam’s body was heaven, his cock enclosed perfectly in a velvet glove. He remembered all this so well, like it had only been yesterday. His hands sought Liam’s torso again, smoothing over hips and ribs, holding his partner firmly while his lips continued kissing the back of Liam’s neck and nibbling on his earlobe. Liam panted hard. One hand clutched the back of the chair while the other jerked himself off. “Harder,” he groaned. “Harder.” Conor did as he was told. In the back of his mind was the knowledge that he was nothing but a glorified dildo, but at the end of the day, he was getting laid, and the sex was mindblowingly good. And he was the one doing the fucking. It wouldn’t be him who couldn’t walk the next day; it would be Liam. That thought of Liam coming down onto the beach tomorrow walking like John Wayne, comforted him to no end and spurred him on to move even faster, nailing Liam to that chair until Liam was shouting and cursing loudly.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 51 It had to hurt, but Liam wasn’t complaining. He was only begging for more, and Conor was only giving it to him. His orgasm rose again ferociously, and he held onto Liam hard, squeezing his body, eyes closed. As he came, he felt muscles clamp down around him, pulsing around his cock, and with his mouth tasting the sweat on Liam’s neck, he imagined there were lips on his. Eli’s lips. He slumped against his partner, panting for breath. “You’re still a good shag, Conor,” Liam mumbled tiredly beneath him. “You might want to get a cloth to wipe my spunk off your couch.” Conor withdrew and climbed off the chair, the afterglow well and truly gone. Clearly he had a far-too romanticized idea of sex, because he always looked for cuddles and soft words after sex and was usually disappointed. He rolled off the condom and tied a knot in it. He pulled up his pants and boxers and went through to the kitchen bin with the condom, dropping it inside. Then he fastened up his pants and ran a glass of water, drinking it down. He heard Liam moving about in the living room. “Show yourself out,” Conor called. Liam appeared fully dressed in the doorway. “Ouch, Conor, you wound me,” he said with a mocking grin. “You’re lousy at onenight stands. All the way through that you were wishing for something more, weren’t you?” Conor fixed his gaze on him. “What I was wishing for, Liam, was someone more than you.” Liam’s smile dropped. “Like your Yank? Jesus, he doesn’t want any more from you than I do. He only wants to fuck you. How exactly does that make him better than me?” Conor put his glass in the sink. “Get out.” Liam shrugged his shoulders and set off walking back through the living room. Conor followed him. Liam pulled his coat on and opened the front door. “Same time tomorrow night, then?” he asked glibly.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 52 When Conor only glared, he said, “It’s either me or nothing. You’ve blown it with Eli. I warned him off good and proper. And it’s not like you’ll ever get the balls to chase him yourself.” Conor shoved him violently out the front door. Liam sprawled head first down the four steps onto the drive with a grunt. “You fucking prick,” he growled back at Conor. “I think you’ve broke my ankle.” Conor slammed the door. He stood leaning with his forehead against it a moment, tasting the sourness of rage in his mouth. What had he done? Never had he felt so empty in his life. It was better to live without sex than experience the sort of nothingness Liam had to offer. He hated himself for his weakness. He moved away from the door, switching off the light and the TV and climbing the stairs. He stripped his clothes off and got into the shower, scrubbing his skin with a loofah until it was pink. The worst thing about the whole sordid ordeal was that not once had Liam kissed him.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 53

Chapter 8 ELI

was tired. He had lain awake most of the night, Conor dominating his thoughts. He might have resolved to give him up, but that didn’t make it any easier. Conor had wormed his way deep into his psyche, and he was seeing him in a whole new light after Liam’s revelations. He was a broken man looking for his way in life, looking for someone to love him, and that was nothing shameful despite Liam’s derision. Conor was quiet and thoughtful and would probably be a wonderful lover and partner. The cold front he had presented throughout Eli’s stay was all a sham. That much had been obvious as soon as Eli kissed him, and it was even more obvious when the front came crashing down as soon as he set eyes on Liam yesterday. Oh God, Eli still wanted Conor, no matter what. They could never be together, but he ached to touch him, to be close to him, just once before he left. He never would. Liam was there first, and Liam had probably been there again last night, no matter Conor’s antagonism toward him. Eli knew well enough by now that Conor’s antagonism usually meant something else entirely. Usually it meant he was fighting a desperate attraction that he was terrified of giving in to. He glanced wearily around his colleagues. Liam was nowhere to be seen, and Eli was sick of waiting. Everyone was hoping filming would be wrapped up today. The autopsy had been the experience of a lifetime, but everyone, Eli included, had soon tired of working in the rain, wind, and bitter cold every day and was looking forward to getting back to sunny climes. Eli was just looking forward to putting Conor from his mind once and for all. Was Liam still in Conor’s bed? Had they been reliving their history in style while Eli lay tortured in his hotel room?

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 54 A cab was making its way over the sand at speed, honking its horn at spectators to get out of the way. Eli stood with eyes narrowed against the rain as Liam climbed laboriously from the taxi and propped himself up on a pair of crutches. Eli stared at the fluorescent pink cast on his leg as the Irishman hobbled slowly over the sand, swaying unsteadily on the uneven ground. “What happened to you?” Liam shrugged. “Something and nothing.” “Doesn’t look like nothing.” “Let’s get on with it.” They suited up by the spread-out guts of the whale, the small intestine spanning the length of two football fields. Before they donned gloves and goggles, Eli spoke his mind. “Tell me Conor didn’t do that to you.” Liam’s eyes slid slyly sideways to him. He grinned. “He gets a little rough in bed.” Eli’s jaw dropped open. His heart plummeted south. Such disappointment and jealousy consumed him he could barely breathe. Oh, Conor, how could you? You’re better than Liam. “You had him? I don’t believe you.” He kept his voice cool. He wouldn’t let this bastard see how wounded he was. “Why would I lie?” Liam asked cockily. “Ask him yourself. You know his face is an open book; he can’t keep anything secret.” That was true. Conor’s feelings for Liam had been all too apparent yesterday. Still, though, Eli would have expected the cop to have more self-respect than to take it off this asshole. “Ask him, and I’m sure he’ll tell you all about how he pushed me over his chair and fucked me senseless,” Liam continued. Eli stared. “He’s a great fucking lay for a bloke who never gets any. I guess he’s grateful for anyone who’ll have him. He’s got a big dick, too, which is always good in my book.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 55 Liam was taking great pleasure in rubbing salt in his wounds. Eli thought he was going to cry. He’d never felt so humiliated in his life. “Shame you never got to experience him. No hard feelings, though, eh? The best man won.” “The best man?” Eli blurted out scornfully before he could control himself. “He’s showed how truly fucking desperate he is by having you.” Liam glowered at him, flushing. “What he showed, my dear Eli, was who he truly loves. And that someone isn’t you. He didn’t spare you one fucking thought while his cock was in my arse.” Eli swung his fist and hit Liam full on the jaw, knocking him backwards. Liam sprawled over the whale’s small intestine, floundering a moment on the slippery innards, crutches flying out behind him, before Eli dragged him up and hit him again. Liam clutched tight to him so Eli fell with him and the two grappled fiercely on the ground, throwing punches. Rough hands dragged Eli up. “Knock it off right now.” A familiar voice, that Irish accent like warm whiskey and smooth chocolate. His arms were pinned behind his back, and he turned his head furiously. “So I’m arrested again, am I, Conor, when it’s his fucking fault?” “Stop making a fucking scene,” Conor hissed in his ear. “Think I want to be gossiped about from now till Christmas? Move.” He pulled Eli around and shoved him forward, away from Liam, sparing a glare back at the man on the ground. Eli was frogmarched away from the dissection site and up to the top of the beach. All the way, he was aware of Conor’s hand on his wrist, touching the bare skin below his sleeve, his grip tight. Probably the last touch Eli would ever know from this man. Eli waited until they were up in the solitude of the sand dunes before he pulled free and turned around to furiously confront Conor. “Tell me you weren’t fighting over me,” the cop got in first before Eli could hurl abuse at him.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 56 “You’re not worth fighting over!” Eli cried. “You’re a fucking fool. You should have heard all the shit talking he’s done about you. He’s laughing at you. Why did you let him have you?” Conor’s jaw was clenched, his blue eyes icily cold. “You answered your own question. Because I’m a fucking fool.” Eli’s anger abruptly drained. A rush of tenderness made him reach out to touch Conor’s cheek. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Conor slapped his hand away. Eli stared him down, stinging. “Liam said that the reason why he had you and you refused me was that you love him. Is that right?” Conor lowered his head. He bit his lip a moment. “Yeah, that’s right.” Eli’s heart sank ever further. Misery consumed him whole. “I’m a better man than he’ll ever be,” he declared fiercely. “I wanted you for all the right reasons, not like him.” Conor was silent for the longest time. Finally, he lifted his head. “Don’t.” His tone was soft. A film of tears glazed his blue eyes. Eli’s lip trembled, his jaw aching and eyes burning. “I’m on a plane home tomorrow night. I hope I never see you again as long as I live.” Conor stumbled out of the dunes and almost ran back across the beach. Eli sank down into the sand, fists clenched against his own anguish.

“YOU’RE going to have to manage here today, John. I need to go back to the station,” Conor said succinctly when he got back to the barrier around the whale. “What’s going on? Aidan said Liam and Eli were fucking brawling back there.” “I dealt with it. Any more trouble from them, nick them both and bang them up, got it?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 57 “Jesus Christ, you’ve got a love triangle going on.” John’s tone was almost admiring. “Shut the fuck up and get back to work.” Conor jumped in the car, his wheels spinning sand as he set off at a reckless speed across the beach. Back at the empty station, he paced back and forward in front of the cells, cursing Eli, cursing Liam, and most of all, cursing himself. Oh Jesus, how he had wanted nothing more than to take Eli in his arms there in the sand dunes. He burned with confusion and pain. He was tainted forever by Liam now. He felt dirty and used, even more than after the first time Liam had left him broken-hearted. He wished he could take it back. He wished he had never met either man and he had never known the pain of love lost and love never even given a chance. He wished none of this had ever happened and he could cocoon himself back into his quiet little life.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 58

Chapter 9 CONOR stood looking out over the

beach from the sea wall in the gray morning light. The whale was a shapeless hulk in the distance, bodies crowded around it, television cameras and lights trained on it. Even from here he recognized the two figures of Eli and Liam and how they stayed as far away from each other as they could. The dissection would be done in the next few hours, and then the carcass would be left, most probably for Conor to shift. Poor creature, he thought about the whale. You fought for life valiantly here on this beach and lost, and then these two men came and opened up both your heart and mine. Beached and dissected. I know exactly how you feel. He turned and walked away.

LIAM

was on top of the whale, digging around under its ribcage, looking for the heart, the pink cast neon bright in the gray dawn. Eli watched him silently from the sand. After being lifted up onto the whale by a few members of the crew, awkward in his cast, Liam had the camera on him and was hogging the limelight. This was supposed to have been Eli’s big moment. Carrying a nature documentary on his own, showing off his superlative dissection skills and whale anatomy knowledge secondary to none in the world, and somehow Liam had sidled in and snatched it all away. Eli couldn’t bring himself to care. Liam had taken Conor, too, and perversely, as was usually the case, being denied something only made Eli want it more. What had started off as trying to take Conor out for a drink in the hope of a couple of nights in his bed

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 59 had ended up as so much more. The words he had blurted to Conor yesterday had not been a lie. I wanted you for all the right reasons, not like him. He had never expected to return from Ireland minus his heart.

“YOU need to go down to the beach. The mayor’s been down. He’s wondering why you’re not there.” John stood over Conor’s desk, looking down at him. Conor shook his head, taking his gaze from the computer screen where he patiently typed up crime reports, brain firmly on auto-pilot. “I’m not going back until it’s finished. I’m sorry I’ve left you with all this extra work. As soon as they’re gone, take a few days off. As long as you want.” John shook his head. “I don’t want the time off; I just want you to stop hiding away in here. People are talking….” “Exactly,” Conor interrupted. “Do you know how much fun that is? To be whispered about and looked at like I have some sort of disease just because of one mistake I made seven years ago? I never asked Liam to come back.” “And Eli?” Conor bit his lip. “Nothing happened with Eli.” “He punched Liam!” John was incredulous. “Nothing happened,” Conor repeated, folding his arms. John sighed. “Did you break Liam’s leg?” Conor averted his gaze. “It was an accident.” John patted him on the shoulder and walked off. “Well done, you.” John might have been proud of him, but Conor was feeling increasingly guilty about inflicting Liam’s injury. He shouldn’t. Liam was a bastard who deserved everything he got, but Conor abhorred violence and was disappointed that he had sunk to Liam’s level. Still, it had been an accident. The right thing to do would be to apologize before Liam left, but he was not sure how he

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 60 could brave the beach when facing Liam would mean facing Eli too.

“KNEW you couldn’t stay away.” Liam looked up with a grin from where he sat in the sand, pulling his protective suit off over his cast with difficulty. The light was fading, and the tide advanced slowly but surely. The work was finished. This was really it. What was that massive structure sitting there in the sand by the whale? It was the size of a small car, the few men standing around it, dwarfed by it. Conor stared, shivering as he recognized the lump of muscle, the aorta leading off it, large enough for a man to crawl through. It was the whale’s heart. Obviously the prize of the two marine biologists. He dragged his gaze away with his stomach churning and sorrow clawing at him. “Look, I’m not proud of what I did. You know I didn’t mean that,” he told Liam, hands in pockets and coat zipped up to his mouth against the biting wind. “You’re talking about pushing me down the steps, right?” Liam’s gray eyes glinted, almost the same color as the winter sky. Conor’s gaze strayed sideways to Eli, who undressed too, a little distance away, pretending he wasn’t listening. “I didn’t push you down the steps. I pushed you out of my house. You fell down the steps because you’re clumsy and you’d had a drink.” Liam cackled. “Yeah right. You’re an eejit, Conor.” “And you’re an arsehole, which I guess makes us equal.” Conor held his hand out and yanked Liam to his feet, offering him his crutches. Liam put his arms through them and regarded him a moment. “My plane doesn’t leave till eleven-thirty. How about taking me home for a few hours and giving me something to keep me warm during the flight?” Conor stared. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 61 Liam grinned. The grin which had first seduced Conor all those years ago. “My mother always said I had the cheek of the devil himself.” “You are the devil himself. The devil incarnate.” Conor turned away. Liam grabbed his arm and pulled him back, almost overbalancing on the sand. “Hey. No hard feelings, right?” Their gazes locked. “Is that your version of an apology, Liam?” “Yeah, if you like. It’s not like you didn’t have a good time that night, Conor, so don’t be too angry with me.” Conor’s face heated with blood. When he glanced sideways, his gaze met Eli’s. You’re not the one I wanted to have a good time with, though, Liam. You ruined it all. Me and him never even had a chance. He pulled his arm away. “Safe journey back,” he muttered as he turned to go, gaze once more drawn to the whale’s heart. “Be lucky, Conor Kelly,” Liam called behind him. Yeah, Conor thought bitterly as he retreated with the eyes of both men upon him. In affairs of the heart, I never had any luck my whole life. Still I wait here for the one I deserve.

CONOR lifted his head from his desk and glanced at the clock. Seven-thirty, an hour and a half until Cormac came on duty and he could go home. John was out on a call with instructions to go straight home afterward. Conor yawned and rubbed his eyes. Maybe tonight he would sleep, now both men were gone. Somehow he doubted it. Liam’s flight wasn’t until eleven-thirty so he was still here somewhere in town. Was Eli on the same plane, or had he already left? John had told him that the team had arranged the removal of the whale remains. Conor was not surprised to hear the whale’s heart was being shipped back to California. Not surprised at all. Eli and Liam may as well have cut out Conor’s heart and nestled it in the packing crate beside the whale’s, dwarfed and pitiful

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 62 against it. Unused and cowardly. Hardly worthy to share the same space as the mighty whale’s. Nothing but a stain of blood on the sand marked the traumatic past week for both Conor and the whale. Never in his whole life had Conor felt so exhausted both physically and mentally. His thoughts went restlessly back time and time again to the three blissful months he had spent with Liam all those years ago and how Liam had soured those memories by leaving him high and dry and then coming back here to wreak havoc once more. He thought of those burgeoning feelings he had had for Eli and the kisses they had shared. He pictured those earnest, honey eyes and that smile, and he ached for lost chances. He picked up the phone and dialed the Oriel Hotel. “Hi, it’s Conor Kelly,” he said when the receptionist answered. “Hi, Conor, what can I do for you?” “Has Eli Sanders checked out yet?” “He left in a cab about ten minutes ago.” “Okay thanks.” He hung up. One more piece of gossip to furnish the locals with there. Have you heard? Conor rang last night looking for the American, but he’d already gone. It was officially over. Eli was gone, and Conor’s torment and longing was at an end. So why did he feel even worse? He let his head drop back to the desk.

THE

outside door opening woke Conor from sleep. He blinked, lifting his head, rubbing a hand over his mouth where he’d drooled on the desk. He pushed his chair back from his desk, relieved Cormac was here when he heard the hatch behind the front desk lift and footsteps come into the back area. But when he glanced at the clock, he saw Cormac was an hour early. His greeting died in his throat as Eli appeared.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 63 He was wet through, his hair plastered to his head, his coat dripping onto the floor. His pale face wore such an expression of anguish that a lump immediately appeared in Conor’s throat. Neither of them spoke. Abruptly, Eli unzipped his coat and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor where he stood. Then he moved forward. Conor gasped as Eli climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips, took his face in both hands and kissed him. He clutched at Eli as the soft lips claimed his, his hands sliding under Eli’s sweater and up the smooth, warm curve of his spine. Eli moaned softly, and his tongue found Conor’s, touching it tenderly. This was paradise. This was everything Conor had never got from Liam and more. This was one soul finding another; Conor was sure of it. Eli’s fingers worked on his shirt buttons. He unfastened them and pulled Conor’s shirt open, greedy hands travelling over his torso, setting his skin on fire. Conor groaned as fingers rubbed and pinched lightly at his nipples, leaving them as stiff little peaks. The bulge in Eli’s jeans pressed into Conor’s stomach as they kissed, sending him delirious with need. Eli’s hands moved to his belt. They unfastened it deftly, his lips never breaking the kiss, opening button and zipper and sliding a hand inside, into Conor’s boxers. Conor strained eagerly into his touch, sucking for a moment on Eli’s bottom lip, excitement streaking through him as Eli withdrew him, jerking him off slowly and firmly. Oh God, he wasn’t going to last. The feel of Eli’s smooth, warm fingers around his desperate shaft threatened to make him lose control. He kissed Eli harder, grabbing his firm backside in both hands, his breath coming in soft whimpers of need. Eli drew back suddenly from him and climbed from his lap. He reached into his back pocket and withdrew two items— lubricant and a condom—and Conor thought all his Christmases and birthdays had come at once.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 64 He watched, unable to stop his hand straying to touch himself as Eli started to strip, tossing aside boots, shirt, socks, pants and boxers. He stood totally naked in front of Conor, his cock long and thick, curving up toward his belly, his balls like ripe fruit in a tight, hairless sac. His body was exquisite, his chest and abdomen magnificently sculpted and hard, rippling with muscle. Conor thought he would explode right then and there. Eli climbed back on his lap, and Conor reached for him with possessive hands, wishing he could touch every part of Eli’s delicious body at once. They kissed again deeply, and Conor brought Eli’s cock against his own, holding them both in one palm, masturbating them both slowly together as one. Eli squirmed in excitement, gasping. He tore open the condom and rolled it onto Conor before he opened the sachet of lube and covered the latex generously. With the remaining liquid on his fingers, he reached behind himself and probed between his buttocks, lubricating his entrance. Conor gripped Eli’s hips, covering his throat with kisses, aroused beyond endurance, waiting as Eli shifted into position over him, the swivel chair squeaking in protest at their combined weight. Eli gripped his shaft, holding Conor’s cock steady as he sank down slowly onto him. Conor felt himself engulfed, inch by inch, enclosed in tight heat, and he hid his face against Eli’s neck, holding his lover hard, groaning and praying for endurance. Eli moaned out something unintelligible. He sat still for a moment, fully impaled, holding Conor’s head against him with one tender hand. Then he started to move with slow, gentle turns of his pelvis. Conor’s hands stroked his back and his hips before they cupped Eli’s cheeks and held them. The slow pace both maddened and excited him, but he left it up to Eli. He didn’t want the same kind of rough fucking he had enjoyed with Liam. This was something different, a connection far beyond the physical that made every cell in his body sing with emotion. Eli’s steady pace drew Conor’s orgasm slowly but surely. It mounted relentlessly until it threatened to crash over him with the

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 65 force of a tsunami. Eli’s back was damp with sweat. Conor smoothed his hands down it, and then he gripped Eli’s hips and thrust lightly up into his partner. Eli caught his breath. His head fell back, eyes closed, hands braced on Conor’s shoulders, and Conor imagined that if he let go of his lover at that moment, Eli would tumble bonelessly from his lap. He seemed to be lost to his own little world of pleasure, and Conor stared at his flushed face in fascination. He thrust up again, and Eli moaned. He ground down a little harder on Conor, pressing forward to kiss him. The pace increased as their tongues tangled. They moved fluidly as one, as though they had done this together all their lives, bringing the other off effortlessly. Conor reached between their bodies. He jerked Eli off swiftly. It was important to him that Eli came first. He didn’t want his lover’s memories to include any selfishness or poor performance on Conor’s part. Eli panted loudly now, his gasps for breath interspersed with soft moans which drove Conor crazy. He rode Conor so perfectly, his body undulating so sensually that it was like he had been made to do just that, like he was the perfect lover Conor had searched for his whole life. Conor ran one hand over Eli’s torso, making him shiver. His arm encircled Eli’s back, and he drew his lover close as he felt his own end approach. He dropped kisses on Eli’s neck, eyes closed, and his hand moved faster on Eli’s cock as he felt Eli start to shudder, his thighs trembling hard against his own. Eli cried out. His body went rigid and his head fell back as he spurted over Conor’s chest in endless waves. Conor came, clutching hard to Eli, mouth open in a soft cry against his neck. The orgasm seemed to go on and on, wave after wave of ecstasy washing over him, consuming him whole. His straining body finally went limp beneath Eli, and he held his lover, feeling the hard beating of Eli’s heart against his chest as he fought to get his own breath back.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 66 He came back to his senses slowly, the warm weight of Eli on his lap comforting and soothing. He traced Eli’s spine delicately with his fingertips and felt his partner shiver. I could go again quite easily. If he kissed me once more, I would be ready again. He imagined lifting Eli from his lap, spreading him out over his desk, Eli’s legs around him as Conor moved into him. Eli’s hand tangled in his hair. His lover pressed a series of gentle kisses to one closed eyelid. Conor opened his eyes and looked up, and his heart sank quietly with resignation as he realized this was it. Eli’s eyes were full of tears. His hands stroked Conor’s face and neck. His hair was still wet, and it stuck up in random spikes where Conor’s hands had gripped it. His beauty at that moment struck Conor so hard that his heart felt squeezed in a vice. He came to an enormous realization. He would never want anyone more than Eli in his life. This was the pinnacle of his life right here, and he would spend the rest of it trying to recreate these few short days he had known with Eli. He’d never even really known Eli. Didn’t know what music he liked or what his favorite food was. Didn’t know what he liked to do when he wasn’t rescuing animals or if he liked sleeping nearest the window or the door. But he knew Eli’s beauty, tenderness, and passion by now and how he was everything Liam was not. Eli leaned down and kissed Conor. Conor tasted the salt of his tears as they ran into his mouth. He held Eli close to him for those last few moments, savoring that mouth on his, until finally, Eli slid from his lap. Conor reached to his desk for a handful of tissues. He wiped the semen from his chest and then he disposed of his condom and fastened his pants and shirt as he watched Eli dress. His lover sniffed, wiping the back of his hand roughly over his face as though angry at himself. He pulled his coat on, zipping it up to his neck, jamming his hands in his pockets, and then he faced Conor again, his pale face pinched and unhappy, that quiet confidence gone from it.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 67 A knot of tears in Conor’s throat threatened to suffocate him. The effort of holding them back was almost too much. He stood, walked over to Eli, and took him in his arms once again. He wanted to say so much to Eli but could not find the words. He wanted to beg Eli not to leave, but the idea was preposterous. They both had their own lives on different sides of the world, and the fate which had thrown them together was the fate which would take them apart again. What they had shared was nothing more than an interlude. Conor somehow had to accept that, even though that interlude would be around his heart forever. Eli pulled back. He took Conor’s face in his hands and gave him one last lingering kiss. The two looked at each other a moment, Eli’s face streaked with tears, his beautiful eyes red and swollen. Eli slipped his hand into Conor’s. Then he stepped backward to the door until their fingers fell slowly apart and were no longer joined. He turned away and vanished behind the desk, and a second later, the door closed. Conor stood where he was in the center of the room. There was a pain in his chest like a tight band, and if he didn’t know any better, he would swear it was a heart attack. He stumbled backward and reclaimed his chair. His tears dripped onto his desk. He heard the door open again, and his head snapped up, breath caught in his throat. Cormac stepped inside, halting in his tracks when he saw Conor’s face. “Was that Eli I just saw leaving?” he asked. Conor thanked his lucky stars Cormac had not arrived ten minutes earlier. He nodded, standing, pulling his coat on, keeping his face turned away. “Are you okay?” Conor nodded again, not trusting his voice. “It’s been a hard week, Conor. Go home and rest.” Cormac laid a firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 68 But the only one who could comfort him now was the one who had inflicted the pain. Conor took his car keys and left the station, going home to his empty house.

“DON’T tell me you’re still crying. You’ve been at it over three hours now.” Eli lifted his aching head from against the plane window and rubbed a hand over his eyes. He turned to look at Liam sitting in the empty seat beside him. “What the hell do you want?” “I just can’t believe you’re so upset. Did you even fuck him?” “I fucked him,” Eli said fiercely before he could stop himself. “Last night.” “Wow.” Liam whistled. “Go, Conor. Two one-night stands in a week. What a slut. Come on, was he good? Did he take or give? He always preferred to give. Makes him feel less queer. Does he still do that thing where he wanks you both off at the same time? I always loved that. That’s what his big hands are made for.” Eli clenched his teeth. “You need to walk away right now, Liam, before I slam your head against the floor and we both get arrested the minute we touch down at LAX. Because I promise you, getting locked up for beating the sanctimonious grin off your face will be more than worth it.” Liam gave a mock gasp, touching his chest. “Eli, I’m hurt. I always thought we were such good drinking buddies.” “You’re an asshole, and I could kill you for what you’ve done to Conor. Now fuck off.” Liam’s smile finally faded. “Tell you what, Eli, you’re going to be mighty disappointed during your life if you think every casual holiday shag you have is some great fucking once in a lifetime romance.” Eli turned his head back to the window, trembling with anger. He stared at Liam’s reflection, silently willing his tormentor

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 69 to go away before he lost all control and made good on his threat. Liam looked at the back of his head, and in that moment, unguarded, where Liam thought Eli couldn’t see him, his expression was revealing. All bluster and hardness was gone. Liam looked pensive, anxiously biting his lip, lines of sorrow etched around his mouth. Jesus Christ. Eli turned his head and fixed his gaze on Liam’s gray eyes. Liam tried to adjust his expression but too late. Eli had already seen. “You loved him, didn’t you? No matter what you’ve said and done, you loved him all along.” Eli’s voice was low. Liam’s mouth tightened, but his eyes softened unmistakably. He shook his head forcefully before he clambered out of his seat and stalked back to his own, some five rows back. Eli let his head fall back, eyes closed. As Liam himself had once said, Conor was someone you could easily fall in love with.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 70

Part Two Chapter 10 A BREEZE

coming from the sea cooled the hot day slightly. It was another nice day in a week-long heat wave which saw the pasty locals complaining it was too hot and a minor influx of tourists. Conor could take or leave the sun. Sure, he wasn’t a fan of winter, but twenty minutes in full sun burned him, so he couldn’t really be pleased. His uniform shirt stuck to his back as he stood at the sea wall surveying the beach. Since the whale, he had taken to patrolling the beach every day on the look-out for stricken sea creatures, determined not to let the same tragedy strike twice. He had helped rescue several seals so far and even taken to volunteering at the local animal sanctuary when he had the time. “Someone’s moving in.” John jerked his finger up toward the house around the curve of the sea wall, set back from the main road. A Let sign was hammered over the former To Let sign, and a man was mowing the lawn at the front. Conor nodded. He had become positively withdrawn after his second stinging at the hands of love. In the wake of the whale debacle, he had found himself the most popular topic of conversation in town. One man could be put down to a mistake, but two had firmly decided the locals that Conor was all out flaming queer, that he was imminently going to start dressing in leather, grow a moustache, and declare himself “the only gay in the village.” People found themselves at odds with their beliefs. On the one hand, most of them believed homosexuality to be an abomination. On the other, everyone loved Conor, and it wasn’t so easy to cast him into the pit no matter which man he’d lain with.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 71 So Conor was talked about, discussed, and while some were cool toward him, in general, he didn’t become the social pariah he might have imagined he would be. He guessed the public fight between Liam and Eli had told people something had gone on between Conor and one or both men. He was sure no one other than Cormac knew Eli had visited him that night at the station, and he didn’t see his sergeant gossiping about him. He supposed the chemistry between the three of them had been obvious, even during supposedly innocent interaction. Conor didn’t dwell too deeply on his own sexuality. He didn’t see himself exercising his need for men ever again, so he didn’t bother to label himself. He would let others do that for him; he didn’t care. “I heard it’s some bloke doing one of those ecology projects at the uni,” John continued. “Let’s hope he’s not a marine biologist, or he’ll be in your bed within the week.” Conor’s gaze snapped to his. Six months later the wounds were not quite so new. The good-natured barb stung him, raked a little of the scab off, and started some fresh bleeding, but Conor managed a wry smile around the pain regardless, probably for the first time since Eli had left. John grinned in evident relief that Conor hadn’t taken it too badly and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get down to the beach. If he’s good-looking, I’ll try and fix you up with him.” “Don’t push it, John.”

THE word in the pub that night was that the man moving into the house was from the University of Galway and would arrive next morning. Conor nursed his pint silently while his friend Aidan chattered away about his latest lady. God, please don’t let him be a marine biologist. He almost laughed that he would think this way, that he would think lightning could strike three times. People in town might think no marine biologist was safe from their chief of police, but that joke was wearing a little thin now. It was nothing

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 72 more than an unfortunate coincidence. It was bad enough that it had happened at all.

CONOR

had business at the harbor next morning. He had just wrapped up and was chatting with Aidan, who was fishing down there, his friend inviting him to lunch. Conor agreed, waited for Aidan to pack up, and then the two started to walk down past the boats toward town. In front of them, a boat was being readied for sea. A couple of men loaded scuba equipment onto it while another stood on the dock, half in and half out of a wet suit, the rubber clinging to strong legs and an obvious bulge, the bare chest tanned and rippling. Conor almost collided with this man before he came to a startled halt, his heart hammering hard. After a moment’s shocked silence, Eli smiled. “Hello, Conor.”

Conor fumbled for words. His shock was so great it was all he could do to remain upright. Aidan took over. “Hi, Eli, great to see you back.” He pumped Eli’s hand enthusiastically. “Nice to see you, Aidan,” Eli said. The sun glinted off his bright eyes and white teeth. Secure behind his mirrored sunglasses, Conor’s gaze dropped helplessly down Eli’s body, roaming over curves and hard muscle. Jesus, the man was a work of art. Had he really had this body? His pants became tight. His mouth worked and he tried to speak. Perhaps aware he was being studied, Eli shrugged his arms into his wet suit and pulled it up over his shoulders. Then he stepped forward and gripped Conor’s hand in his, squeezing it. “Say hello for God’s sake,” he said in good-natured exasperation. Conor didn’t see how Eli could be so effortlessly cool when he was falling to pieces, and he almost resented it. “Hello,” he said woodenly.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 73 “Better. Buy you a drink tonight?” “No.” Eli rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, sorry, forgot—now comes a week of hard chasing.” Aidan coughed uncomfortably. Conor pulled his sunglasses off. He stepped closer, his voice lowered to a hiss, his hand gripping Eli’s forearm. “Because, what? You think you can walk back in here after six months and pick me up for another week? I don’t think so.” “Conor,” Aidan said as Eli remained still in Conor’s grip, unblinkingly staring into his eyes. Conor let go of Eli’s arm and stalked past him without a word. “Jesus.” Aidan ran to keep up with him. “You complain about being gossiped about, but you have the most public reunion you can manage. Every fucking person down here was watching you. You might as well have pinned him against the boat and shagged him senseless.” “Shut up. I can’t believe that fucking arsehole. Who the hell does he think he is? What am I? The local whore who keeps his bed warm for any travelling marine biologist?” Aidan sniggered beside him, and Conor darted him a fiery glare. “Come on, I think he was joking.” “He wasn’t joking. It’s like Liam all over again. That bastard.” “Calm down.” “I won’t fucking calm down. That American wanker.” Aidan sighed. He steered Conor toward the nearest pub, sat him down outside, and went in to get the drinks. The view over the harbor was good from here. The boat set sail, a figure in black standing motionlessly on the deck looking back at Conor. Why now? What had he done to deserve this opening up of his wounds?

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 74

THE pub was busy that night. People sat at tables overlooking the beach, crowding around the bar. Aidan bought them two pints, and they stood there talking. Conor had gone back to work after lunch, two pints inside him, calmer but not much. He looked around with paranoid eyes, expecting to see Eli stalking him. And there he was. Eli walked in, saw him immediately, and came over to the bar. “Conor….” “Don’t bother.” Conor made to turn away. “Let me just speak to you in private. Please.” Eli’s eyes were earnest and serious. He wore jeans and a white linen shirt, the top few buttons open to show his smooth chest. Damn him. “Go on,” Aidan urged quietly. “I’ll get a table.” Conor looked around. Some of the locals were watching and whispering. “See what you’ve done already,” he accused spitefully. “It wasn’t me who made a scene at the harbor,” Eli tossed back. “Let’s go outside.” With jaw clenched and gaze fixed straight ahead, looking neither left nor right, Conor followed him to a table at the very edge of the terrace, no one at the tables in the vicinity. He sat down facing Eli, holding his beer bottle with a clammy hand as though it was a weapon. Eli sighed, gaze fixed on Conor. “You took that all the wrong way this morning. I shouldn’t have said it, though. It was wrong of me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His voice was gentle and earnest. The dark flecks in his honey eyes were mesmerizing. Memories flooded Conor. He lowered his head. “What are you doing here?” he said roughly. “My university’s collaborating with the University of Galway on a marine research project. I got the scholarship.” “How long are you here for?” And Conor almost held his breath waiting for the reply. “Three months.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 75 Conor swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t bear the thought of Eli being here three months. At the same time, he couldn’t bear it if Eli had only been here a week. He didn’t know which was worse. Three months was plenty of time for Eli to wreak the same damage Liam had and leave Conor broken and forever in love. “Conor.” Eli reached across the table. His hand stopped just short of Conor’s, fingers only an inch apart. “I don’t want to make this hard for you, but I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t hope for something to happen between us.” Conor lifted his head. “Don’t even think about it,” he said unsteadily. “Come on. Are you telling me you’re going to be able to stay away from me for three months?” “Yes. You were here a week, and you took me completely apart. Why would I let you do it again and then leave once more?” A slow gathering of tears pooled in Eli’s honey eyes. “Because three months is better than nothing? I’d rather have that than not have you at all, Conor. I’d take anything I can get with you.” Conor remembered the farewell. He remembered clinging to Eli, with every breath he took burning his chest with agony. That scene would be repeated in three months, and this time he’d never recover from it. “No,” he said, his voice as firm as jelly. “I can’t.” Eli blinked several times. He sat back, gaze averted. “I never once stopped thinking about you. I want you to know that, Conor.” So much so that you didn’t once think to call or write, Conor thought derisively. Just like Liam. But then he hadn’t done it either. He had seen it as a waste of time, chasing ghosts. It wasn’t like he hadn’t Googled Eli’s name, gone to his website and found his email address, mouse poised over it for the longest time. He just hadn’t been able to do it. He didn’t want Eli to think he was chasing dreams. Not when he was back in California with his pick of any sun-bronzed hunk in speedos he wanted after he’d had to slum it with an anemic-looking Paddy across the Pond.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 76 Conor pushed his chair back and lifted his beer. “Just stay away from me,” he said before he walked back into the pub. He went straight to the bathroom. There he splashed some cold water on his face and stood with hands clenching the sink. Jesus Christ, make this go away. Make Eli go away. The door swung open, and looking up, he saw Aidan’s reflection in the mirror. “What’s happened?” “Just give me a minute.” “What’s he done?” Aidan’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Shit, Conor, after all you’ve been through, just be glad he’s back. You’ve got another chance.” “I don’t want another chance,” Conor growled. “Another chance for him to open me up and then go skipping off back to America? I don’t fucking think so.” Aidan sighed. “Oh, mate, I know you’ve never told me what happened between you, but you loved him, didn’t you?” Conor squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t reply.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 77

Chapter 11 WHEN

Conor went down to the beach mid-morning, there were a few people dotted around, some swimming, and children playing in the sand and building sandcastles. One person stuck out like a sore thumb, though. Stretched out alone, right by the steps down to the beach, bronzed body gleaming in the sun, was Eli.

Conor tried to tiptoe around him, hoping Eli was asleep, but no such luck. “Hey.” “Morning,” Conor said stiffly. Behind his sunglasses his eyes perused Eli’s near-naked body as he turned over and sat up. The tight black shorts he wore were positively indecent. Conor couldn’t take his gaze away. His mouth was suddenly dry, his cock rising to attention. “Nice day,” Eli remarked conversationally. He reached for a bottle of water and tipped it to his mouth. Conor saw a rivulet of sweat track down between Eli’s nipples and slide onto his chiseled stomach. He thought he would groan. He imagined catching it on his tongue, sliding his mouth down to Eli’s groin and peeling those impossibly tight shorts from him. “Shouldn’t you be working?” “Working on my tan, dude,” Eli drawled with a grin. “Have you never heard of skin cancer?” Conor asked irritably as his cock got harder and harder, and he had to hold his bag in front of it. “That’s why I’ve got factor forty,” Eli said, holding up a bottle and he lay down on his front again, wriggling his ripe backside a little. “Do my back?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 78 “Eli.” Conor knelt down beside him. “Every person in this town already thinks I’m the world’s biggest fag. If I rub cream on your back now, I might as well take out a full page ad in the chronicle telling everyone how much I like cock.” But his eyes rested on those peach-like cheeks anyway and remembered what it was like to be buried between them. Eli laughed. “I never knew you were so funny, Conor.” Conor sat down, looking out to sea. “I’m funny. We never had a non-serious conversation before, so why would you?” Eli was silent a moment. “That’s true. We didn’t get time for an awful lot, did we?” Conor glanced at him. He shook his head. “Take your sunglasses off.” Conor hesitated, then did as he was told. He looked down at Eli. In the sun his eyes were a pale caramel, like smoky glass with dark flecks. They were stunning. “What you said last night about me taking you apart….” “Don’t, Eli.” “Listen to me. Don’t make me out to be the bad guy here. We took each other apart. I didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do. It hurt me just as much, I promise you.” Conor turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut. “You shouldn’t have come back here.” “I had to. I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing you again.” “So you went for the project as an excuse to come back?” “Of course I did. I fought off ten other men and women tooth and nail. I would have done anything to get back here.” Conor swallowed, his throat tight. His head ached. “Please, I don’t want to hear anymore.” Eli ignored him. “Let me tell you something. When I got home, I bumped into Liam at a conference in Salt Lake City. I made him tell me everything about what he had done to you that

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 79 summer. He told me how he broke your heart and left you here after three months and how he knew it had shaped the man you’ve become. And I want you to know, I’m not Liam. I might have left you six months ago, but Jesus, if it goes right for us this time, I won’t be leaving you in a hurry.” “Oh God, stop making such rash promises. Listen to yourself. You have a life and a job in America—what are you going to do? Come and be my live-in lover and have dinner on the table every night when I come home from work?” Eli tried to speak, but Conor talked over him. “You never even knew me, not really. We fucked once. It was a one-night stand. End of story. Don’t come back here looking to pick something back up that never existed. I don’t want you, Eli.” Conor stood up, and Eli came with him. He gripped Conor by the arm. “I want to know you. Just give me the chance. Please.” “People are watching.” “Jesus, I don’t care, Conor. I’m not doing anything wrong.” Conor put a hand on his bare chest. He felt the slick mix of sweat and cream on Eli’s hot skin, and he remembered Eli sitting on his lap, riding him. He pushed Eli back and walked away.

THE

shorts were a mistake in hindsight when someone as hot as Conor was around. Eli virtually dry-humped the sand in frustration. There was a middle-aged couple not far away watching him, and he stared them down until they looked away. He couldn’t turn over for some time now. Christ, he had almost kissed Conor then. He was going to ruin the cop’s reputation in this town if he didn’t calm down and get a grip, and he didn’t want to be responsible for causing him any more misery. But God, he couldn’t calm down. His current desperation was the culmination of six months of need, which had started the day he had first laid eyes on Conor. The lovemaking that night in the police station had only slaked the very tip of his desire. Not that all his desire was sexual.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 80 He hadn’t told Conor any lies that day or the day before. He wanted him mind, body, and soul and would do anything to get him. If only Conor wasn’t so determined to keep him at arm’s length! It was so hurtful to have their night together called a onenight stand. Not when, as far as Eli was concerned, it had merely been the start. He had been a fool to leave and hope his longing for Conor went away. He should have forsaken everything and stayed to fight for what he knew was the most important thing in his life now. Conor had to see that sooner or later. He had to understand they were meant to be.

CONOR

did his best to avoid Eli over the next few days, which was a difficult feat in a town this size. He caught glimpses of Eli in his wetsuit at the harbor and often stood at the shore watching the boat go out to sea and a figure in black descend below the waves. It was a Monday evening on his way home from work when he entered the general store, dreading it but driven there by his need for milk. Orla McDonagh was a busy-body with a heart of gold. She usually gave away free groceries to Conor and, clearly laboring under the impression that as a single man he didn’t eat properly, often brought him home-made pies and casseroles to the station. She was also a great friend of his mother, who lived further down the coast in Salthill. Orla was the reason Mrs. Kelly had found out about Liam and not spoken to Conor for two years afterward. That morning, Conor had found a dozen scarlet roses on his doorstep. They could only have been bought here, and he entered with trepidation, keeping his head down. “Conor, how the devil are you? I’ve not seen you in over a week, so I haven’t. Your poor mother wants to know why you never answer the phone.” Conor mumbled something as he grabbed a bottle of milk from the fridge by the counter. “I was just saying to that man of yours—”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 81 Conor’s head jerked up. “What man?” “I think she means me.” Eli appeared behind him, smiling. “He’s not my man, Orla,” Conor said sternly, mortified. “Come on now, he buys you roses, and he’s not your man? He’s a whole lot better than that Liam, I’ll tell you that for nothing. He was a no good—” “I am his man, Mrs. McDonagh; don’t listen to him,” Eli piped up. Conor whirled around. He gripped Eli by the shoulder and bundled him into the nearest aisle. “What exactly are you playing at?” he hissed. “What?” “Don’t go around telling people you’re my man.” “But I am. I only wish you were mine.” Eli’s earnest honey eyes were fixed on his. “Jesus,” Conor blasphemed. “Do you expect me to be bought by a dozen roses?” Eli shrugged. “Not really. You’re a guy. I wouldn’t expect less than a six pack of Corona and a compilation DVD of Brent Corrigan’s greatest fucks to do it for you.” Conor felt his face turn red, because no way should he have known that name. Eli grinned slyly. “Isn’t he a little young for you, Conor?” “Shut up. You’re going to ruin me, Eli.” Eli’s hand rested on Conor’s hip, touching the pouch on his belt that held his baton. “I can’t seem to control myself where you’re concerned.” His voice was soft. “Try,” Conor said harshly. “The milk is on the house, Conor,” Orla called.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 82 Conor rounded the corner, muttered a thanks and grabbed it off the counter, heading for the door. Eli followed him out, grabbing the door before it slammed in his face. “Conor….” Conor turned fiercely around at his car. “Stop,” he said. “Just stop. I can’t take any more. Go back where you came from and leave me alone.” “You don’t mean that.” “I do mean it! Jesus, Eli, get the message that you’re not wanted and have some dignity.” That seemed to finally penetrate Eli’s obstinacy. His eyes shone with tears. “I’ll go home if you want me to. Just say it again.” Conor took a deep, painful breath. “I want you to go home and never come back.” Eli stared at him for the longest moment. Then he nodded. “Okay. I’ll be on the next plane home. You won’t see me again.” He walked away down the road. Conor slumped back against his car, trembling, watching Eli’s figure retreat into the distance. And was this really going to make him happy? He had just broken his own heart.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 83

Chapter 12 THE

house was up to let two days later. Conor stood at the sea wall, watching the sign being hammered up. He would have to live with his decision for the rest of his life. Eli might have been his last chance to be happy, and instead he had pushed him away. He deserved everything he got. He trudged back to the station and buried himself in misery behind his desk. The call came in at four p.m. about a road traffic collision involving two cars and a tractor on the high road coming into town. Conor pushed his chair tiredly away from the desk and made to stand, when John stopped him. “I’ll go. Stay here.” “It might need both of us.” “It’ll be nothing. I’ll call you if I need you.” Conor leaned on his desk while John put his hat on and grabbed his reflective jacket. Road traffic accidents were uncommon in the town. He couldn’t remember the last time there had been a serious one. He smiled gratefully at John and went back to his paperwork, feeling a little guilty.

JOHN

was a long time, but Conor didn’t dwell too deeply on it, because he knew the logistics of liaising with fire crews and recovery services to remove cars from the scene of an accident. Then there was the twenty-mile trip to the nearest hospital in Galway City if John had had to go with any casualties to take statements. Nonetheless, Conor started to become progressively uneasy with no apparent reason. He called John, but his deputy

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 84 didn’t answer the phone, and, unusually, his radio was switched off. It was after seven when John finally returned, and as Conor looked up, his heart sank at the expression on the sergeant’s face. Something truly terrible had happened, that much was obvious. “What’s happened?” John came over to Conor’s desk and perched on the edge. He put a hand on Conor’s shoulder keeping him in his seat when he tried to rise. So he needed Conor sitting down. Someone had died. It must have been someone they both knew well. “Conor,” he began, and Conor noticed a dark red-brown streak of something on his cheek. “Fred Barnes’ tractor broke down in the middle of the road. On that blind bend where we’ve had the accidents before.” Conor watched him carefully. “Aidan Bell came around the corner and went straight into the tractor.” Conor’s stomach clenched violently and threatened to regurgitate its contents. “He went half into the ditch, his end sticking out, and then Eli Sanders came around and crashed into him.” Conor stared with his breath trapped in his chest and refusing to move. “I’m sorry, Conor.” In that split second, Conor asked himself who he would prefer to be dead out of the three if he had the choice and came up with no answer. “Who died?” he asked, his voice strangled. John paused, his eyes filled with sympathy and sadness. “It was Aidan.” Conor lowered his head and tried to think, but he was overwhelmed with numbness. A trembling spread through him. He had never known bereavement before, and to feel it now, so suddenly, with no preparation, was devastating. Aidan had been

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 85 his friend for the last ten years since Conor had come to live in Kinroe. He had been his constant strength and encouragement over Liam and Eli. He had never judged or scorned him. He had only felt sorry for what Conor had endured. He shook his head because he couldn’t believe it. Perhaps he was having a nightmare and he would wake up in a moment, because thirty-eight-year-old people he knew didn’t just have their lives snuffed out in an instant like a candle. It happened to other people. It didn’t happen to him or his friends. “He was dead on scene,” John said helplessly. “I’m sure he didn’t suffer. I went to tell his parents. They were very upset.” Conor realized his breathing was a little unsteady and fast. But he didn’t cry. He asked himself why he wasn’t crying when this news was so terrible. When one of the pivotal people in his life was gone. Nausea clawed its way up his throat without warning, filling his mouth with saliva and bile. He darted for the toilets, charging through, only just making it to a cubicle before he was violently sick. Still puking, he felt a hand on his back, rubbing comfortingly, and then he remembered. He half-stood, wiping his mouth on toilet paper. “What about Eli?” “He’s okay. He’s got a head injury. I left him at the hospital.” Conor turned around and squeezed past John. He washed out his mouth with a handful of water at the sink. “And Fred?” “He’s fine. No injuries. I’ve got Listerine in my desk drawer.” “Yes, please.” “Wait there.” At the sink, Conor stared at his ashen, sweaty face in the mirror. Aidan was gone. Eli had survived. John came back with a bottle of blue liquid and handed it to Conor. He took it gratefully and poured a capful, gargling and swilling it around thoroughly before spitting. He handed the bottle back. “I’ll go and pick him up.” “Are you sure? I can do it.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 86 “I’m okay.” He went back out into the main area and took his keys, putting his hat on, trying to look official. “Conor, I’m sure Aidan was dead before Eli hit his car,” John said. “Just so you know.” Conor regarded him a moment. Perhaps John was expecting Conor to go and blame Eli for the accident, but no such thought had yet crossed his mind. No thoughts at all had crossed his mind. “I’m so sorry,” John said again. Conor left the station. He got into his car and started the engine, turning the radio off and driving in silence.

CONOR

pulled up in the ambulance bay outside the emergency department and got out on weak legs. He felt exhausted, the numbness starting to wear off to be left with a bone-wrenching grief over his lost friend. He walked into the department and was directed around the corner and down a row of cubicles by the receptionist. He stopped a nurse and asked for Eli. “Cubicle seven,” she told him. “How is he?” “He’s just had some sutures. He’s all right.” “Can he go home?” “Yes, providing he’s got someone to stay with him for the next twenty-four hours. To observe him.” Conor hesitated. “I can arrange that.” The nurse looked at him curiously, evidently thinking the police had expanded their role, but nodded. Conor walked toward the cubicle. The curtain was half open, and behind it, Eli was just climbing from the bed slowly. His white T-shirt was liberally soaked in blood, and his face, pale beneath his tan, was streaked with it, his hair matted. On his forehead just

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 87 below his hairline was a row of neat blue stitches holding a jagged wound closed. As Conor stood a moment, unsure what to do, he watched Eli pull his jacket on torturously as though his body ached with every movement, and then the American stood there a moment and rubbed the back of his hand roughly over his eyes in an achingly familiar gesture. Something speared Conor’s heart. He stepped into the room, and Eli instantly turned to look at him, his face registering something like relief as his eyes brimmed with tears. He put his arms around Conor’s neck as he approached, and Conor gathered him close and held him tight. Eli felt so perfect in his arms. The warmth and feel of his body soothed Conor’s aching breast. I almost lost this. I almost lost it forever. Why did I send him away? “I’m sorry.” Eli’s voice was a strained whisper against his neck. “Shush.” Conor held his head, hand stroking the hair matted with blood. “I didn’t see him. I was going too fast….” Eli took small, gulping breaths and trembled. Conor drew back. He wiped Eli’s wet cheeks with the pads of both thumbs and then motioned for him to follow him from the cubicle. He set off walking toward the exit without looking back.

Eli didn’t speak all the way back to Kinroe. He sat with his face turned away, head leaning back against the seat, soft, almost inaudible sobs coming from him. Conor could find no words to comfort him. Not when he was the one who needed it so badly himself. He pulled up outside his house and got out. Eli unfolded himself stiffly and sorely from the car, walking around it to follow Conor into his house. Conor kicked his shoes off and headed for the kitchen, and Eli followed him after removing his own.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 88 Conor went straight for the bottle of whiskey in the bottom cupboard, pouring two generous measures and taking them back with him. Eli loitered uncomfortably in the middle of the living room, his face still pale, his eyes red, looking blankly at Cinnamon who reclined on his favorite chair, regarding Eli ambivalently in turn. At least the cat hadn’t leaped at his throat yet, as he had tended to do with Liam. Eli thanked Conor when he handed him his drink and almost guzzled it, wincing afterward and placing the glass on the coffee table. Conor downed his own. “Sit down,” he said and noted how gingerly Eli lowered himself. He took his own seat on the opposite end of the couch, trying to keep distance between them. “Are you in pain? I can get you something.” “They gave me something at the hospital. And I’ve got a box of pills in my pocket.” Silence fell. Conor fumbled for things to say, Eli’s proximity slaying him. “Were you on your way to the airport?” Eli nodded. “You missed your plane.” “I’ll get the next one.” Eli turned his head to look at Conor. “Why did you bring me here? You should have let me out at the hotel.” “The nurse said someone needed to observe you.” “And you’ve decided that someone is you, is it? I thought you couldn’t bear to be in the same room as me.” Eli’s tone was soft, belying his harsh words. Conor shook his head. “Not true. You can stay in my spare room until tomorrow, and then I’ll take you to the hotel.” He looked down at the carpet rather than at Eli. A lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him. His heart felt like it was coming apart at the seams. Eli moved across the couch suddenly. Sitting beside Conor and leaning over, he put one arm around his waist and pressed his face against Conor’s chest.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 89 Conor looked down at his dark head. This closeness once more seemed to be the salve on his wounds. He lifted his hand and stroked Eli’s hair. “I’m so sorry,” Eli muttered. “I don’t know how you’ll ever forgive me for this.” “It wasn’t your fault. John said Aidan was probably dead before you hit him.” Eli lifted his head, face tear-streaked and eyes earnest with hope. “Is he sure?” “Yeah,” Conor said. That was what he would believe regardless. The whole sorry mess had been an accident, and he had no intention of apportioning blame. Eli hid his face again. “I’m still sorry your friend’s gone instead of me.” The words made Conor flinch. “No, Eli,” he said fiercely and lifted Eli’s head with both his hands. “No.” And he kissed Eli with all the passion and hurt and need he still felt. Eli melted for a moment, his mouth burning hot and pliant beneath Conor’s. Then he turned his head away. “You shouldn’t do that, Conor,” he murmured. “Not when you told me to leave. You’ll confuse me.” Conor bit his lip. His fingers caressed the back of Eli’s neck. The ache in his chest spread down into his loins. It was so wrong that during the worst grief of his life he should still desire Eli this way. Eli pulled away and stood. “Is it okay if I lie down?” “Go up to bed,” Conor replied. “The spare room’s on the left.” “Can I shower?” Conor nodded. “There’s towels in the cupboard and something to wear to bed. You’ll find a spare toothbrush in the cabinet.” “Thanks.” Eli hovered a moment, looking uncomfortable before he disappeared up the stairs.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 90 Conor’s head fell back against the couch. Over on the window sill, the phone shrilled suddenly. He stood wearily and crossed the room. He bent to check and recognized the displayed number. His mother. Jesus Christ, could this day get any worse? He picked it up and mumbled a hello. “Conor, oh my love.” So Orla McDonagh had been on the phone then. “I’ve just heard about your friend Aidan. I’m so sorry.” Conor’s mother had met Aidan several times when visiting Kinroe and had been very fond of him. Conor sighed. He went through to the kitchen with his empty glass and topped it up from the bottle in the cupboard. “Are you all right?” “Yes.” Overhead, he heard the shower start. He imagined the soap suds cascading down Eli’s glorious body. “You poor thing. Do you want me to come over?” “No,” Conor said too quickly. “Are you on your own? It won’t take me long.” “No, really….” “You shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.” “I’m not on my own.” Well done, Conor. Why not tell her you’ve got a hot American virtually keeping your sheets warm? “Who’s there?” “A… friend.” Conor tended to stammer when he was trying to fudge the truth. “What friend?” “He’s… a… marine biologist.” Wrong thing to say, Conor. Anything but that. You may as well have told her you’re fucking him. There was an ominous silence. “Liam?” “No, it’s not Liam. Why would it be Liam?” Conor snapped.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 91 “Well how many other marine biologists do you know?” “Look I just know him, okay? He’s doing some work here.” “And what’s he doing at your house?” “I’m not sure you’re entitled to give me the third degree, Mum. I’m thirty-seven years old.” “Mother of God, you’re sleeping with him aren’t you? I thought all that was behind you. No pun intended.” “Mother.” Conor’s voice was deadly. “The man was in the accident with Aidan. He’s hurt. He’s staying with me until tomorrow. End of story.” His mother huffed. “You’re keeping something from me. I thought Liam was an unfortunate accident.” How exactly was it an accident to have a man in your bed every night for three months? Conor downed his drink and poured another. He guessed he had said as much to his mother. Cut off for two years, when his mother had finally extended the olive branch and asked after Liam, Conor had told her he was long gone. When she’d asked if there was anyone else, he had all but told her there wouldn’t be anyone else ever. He was lonely and miserable and loved his mother. What was a man supposed to do but deny what he was? “I’ll be there for Aidan’s funeral. You let me know when it is.” “Yes.” “And no hanky-panky, Conor. Promise me you won’t.” “Good night.” Conor hung up. He swallowed his drink and put the glass into the sink. Walking back into the living room, he replaced the phone and drew the curtains. After petting Cinnamon and locking the front door, he made his way upstairs. The shower had stopped and the bathroom was silent. Conor went into his own room. He went into the ensuite and switched on his own shower. As he stood with eyes closed under the spray, he imagined Eli climbing in behind him, pushing him against the wall and taking him until Conor cried out in his ecstasy. Aidan died today. And the result of that is Eli lying in my spare bed only feet away. Oh God, I hurt for him like this will never

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 92 end. In my sorrow I need nothing more than his body against mine, our souls fused. The lump in his throat choked him. He got out of the shower and dried himself. Across the landing it was totally quiet. He slid naked into bed between cool sheets and shivered his way into fitful sleep with regret clawing at him from the inside out.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 93

Chapter 13 CONOR

woke from a dream into darkness with a start, the nightmare fading instantly into oblivion. The tears were hot on his face. He turned his head into the pillow and wept. He didn’t hear footsteps before a body slid into bed behind him, the soft cotton of T-shirt and pajama bottoms pressing against his back, the muscle hard beneath. An arm curved over his hip, and a hand started to rub his belly gently in circles, as though Conor had an ache that Eli hoped to take away. Conor put his hand over Eli’s. He brought it up to his chest and laid it there, his own hand still covering it, pressing it down. This was the ache Eli needed to take away. Eli’s warm mouth brushed his neck behind his ear. “It’s all right,” he whispered through the dark. “I’m here.” Conor closed his eyes. Eli held him for what seemed like hours. It was still dark when Conor awoke. The embrace seemed to have stripped away the outer layer of Conor’s grief, leaving him more numb than raw. His tears had dried but his face felt sticky. His head ached. Eli was asleep, breathing softly against his neck. Conor lay still, each part of his body aware of the corresponding press of a part of Eli against it, humming gently like a taut string, plucked by a gentle lover. He stiffened with need, imagining pressing himself back onto Eli, taking him inside, milking Eli before he was even awake. Eli shifted against him. His hand flexed under Conor’s, and then his thumb lightly but deliberately moved across Conor’s nipple.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 94 A flash of fire shot into Conor’s groin. He turned his head to find Eli’s face right behind him, their mouths colliding instantly. Conor drowned. He rolled over to meet Eli, pulling him against him with one arm, sliding a hand up his T-shirt to touch skin. Eli shuddered against him, his mouth desperate with passion, his tongue seeking Conor’s. Conor pushed him onto his back. Eli lifted his arms so Conor could strip him before wriggling out of his pajama bottoms swiftly. Then they were skin to skin, Eli’s legs open around Conor, erections pressed together. Eli buried his face in Conor’s neck, breathing in deeply as though inhaling Conor’s scent. His hands clutched at Conor’s back, pulling him ever closer, lifting his pelvis, making his need plain. Conor reached down. He touched Eli’s cock, weighing it in his hand, smoothing his thumb over the head. He brought his thumb to his mouth, licking the fluid from it. Eli groaned, pushing into his hand. He leaned over to the bedside table, feeling around in the dark and bringing back something which he tore open. Conor sat back on his heels, letting Eli roll the condom down his shaft. His lover reached for something else, and cool, silky liquid coated the outside of the condom. Conor took the bottle from him. It was a pump-action dispenser, and he fumbled a moment in the dark before he got some on his fingers and reached down between Eli’s legs. Eli caught his breath as the cold liquid touched him. Conor rubbed gently around and over his entrance before he insinuated one finger then two. Eli squirmed a bit below him, gripping Conor’s wrist. Conor worked him open, his lover relaxed and pliable, and then he leaned over him, kissing Eli as he guided himself inside. “Put the light on,” Eli whispered before he could. “I want to see your face.” Conor did as he was told, stretching over for the switch. Eli’s beautiful countenance was illuminated below him, the wound on his forehead stark against his rather ghostly complexion. “You’re pale,” Conor said softly. “Your tan’s disappeared.” “Put some color in salaciously, lifting his hips.

my

cheeks

then,”

Eli

responded

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 95 Conor kissed him again as he slid inside. Short nails dug into his buttocks, hands pulled him deeper. Eli breathed heavily. This slow climb to ecstasy was just as Conor remembered. It was all he wanted and needed. He closed his eyes, his mouth against Eli’s neck, and let his lover take him over the edge. He felt the moment Eli came, the stiffening of his body, the long, low moan, and he reached between their bodies to confirm it, realizing Eli had managed this without either of them touching him. Eli was almost comatose. Conor rolled off him, fell panting by his side, and sank straight back into sleep.

AS DAWN broke and birds started to call, Conor stirred. His mouth sought Eli’s before he was even awake, their bodies turning together. Eli moaned softly, kissed him back lazily, tenderly, before pushing Conor onto his back. Half-sinking back into sleep, Conor felt a mouth on his neck, his chest, sucking his nipples stiff and leaving them damp and sensitive. A hand in his groin fondled his balls, and Eli’s lips pressed kisses to Conor’s stomach and to the hair between his legs before a warm tongue licked the head of his stiffening cock. Conor groaned, very much awake. His fingers in Eli’s hair encouraged him lightly as Eli lifted his cock and put his mouth around it. Conor’s legs spread wider so Eli could lie between them, and he abandoned himself to glorious pleasure. This was a different kind of blowjob to the one Liam gave. Eli was all sweetness and light, his tongue and mouth wet and worshipping, tender and unhurried, his teeth firmly away. He drew Conor slowly but surely to the end, his mouth leaving his cock from time to time to lap at his balls and press the tender spot behind them so Conor almost saw stars and feared he would cry out. Eli lifted his head. He was breathless, as though this excited him as much as it excited Conor, and that merely made the

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 96 arousal throb ever deeper and harder in the pit of Conor’s stomach. “Turn over.” Eli’s voice was a whisper, his eyes black in the coming dawn. Conor did so unquestioningly. He felt Eli’s hard torso against his back, his lover’s lips tracing his spine, Eli’s hands on the cheeks of his backside. Conor rubbed himself against the bed sheets, needing release. He spread his legs further as Eli’s mouth sucked at his balls. “Can I make love to you, Conor?” Conor buried his face into the pillow, nodding his head, because really, Eli didn’t even need to ask at this point. Conor was his slave. “I’ve got another condom. Wait a moment.” Eli slid suddenly from the bed, leaving Conor feeling cold with the covers drawn back. His lover didn’t put any lights on, and there was rustling and fumbling in the room across the landing before soft footsteps returned and Eli wriggled back under the covers and knelt over Conor. Eli’s hands trailed down Conor’s back. They massaged his buttocks and his thighs. Before Conor could prepare himself, fingers spread his cheeks apart, and a warm tongue circled him. Conor cursed, grabbing at the pillow. Liam used to do this to him, and Conor had protested at first and refused to return the favor, but he’d soon got into it. He felt himself relax, the tight rosebud of his entrance opening up against the insistent pressure of Eli’s tongue until a finger worked its way inside him, and with unerring accuracy Eli stroked his prostate. “Fuck.” Semen dampened the sheet below Conor. “Oh my God.” And again, as Eli continued to stroke. “You need to….” “Stop? I’m not going to stop. I just got started. Control yourself.” “I can’t. You’re making me….”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 97 “I know what I’m making you do.” A hand reached under him, pulled his cock backwards between his legs. The next pass over his prostate saw Conor spurting into Eli’s mouth. Eli licked his cock, withdrew his finger, went back to tonguing Conor open. His saliva wet Conor’s balls and his inner thighs. Conor felt Eli could ready him for anything. Foil tearing drew his attention. He looked back over his shoulder to see Eli kneeling between his legs, rolling his condom on. Conor got up on all fours, waiting. Lube fell between his cheeks, making him flinch, and Eli rubbed it over him thoroughly. A hand stroked his hip before Eli pressed against him, rock solid, insistent. The head of his cock rubbed back and forth against his wet entrance, the latex slippery, before Eli pushed forward, gentle but firm. Conor opened up and took him. It was a shock after so long, but he accepted Eli with little more than discomfort and a whole lot of arousal. Panting for breath, he knelt with head down as Eli eased all the way in, and he was filled with his lover. Eli’s arm went around his torso. He sat back and pulled Conor onto his lap. Conor groaned, deeply impaled, and the warm mouth found his neck and caressed reassuringly. Eli rocked himself gently into him, holding him close. Conor tried to rest his hands on the bed on either side of his thighs, steadying himself, feeling a molten rush already overtaking him, his cock leaking relentlessly onto his belly. His head fell onto Eli’s shoulder, his eyes closed. The muscular thighs shifted below his, pebble hard nipples grazing his back. Eli gasped and groaned. He pushed Conor forward off his lap to lie prone, and he stretched his body out on top. Every inch of skin sealed together, damp and hot, Eli thrust into Conor, taking him to the edge effortlessly. Conor moaned, hand beneath himself, around his own cock, rubbing in time with Eli’s movements. Eli’s arms slid under him, hands holding his shoulders, face pressed between them as his hips jerked forward, and his cock rubbed Conor just right. Conor slid about on the damp sheets, the weight on top of him smothering him gloriously, the cock inside

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 98 him swelling and filling him ever more full until he imagined sinking deep into the bed, fused to Eli for all time. Eli came with a soft gasp, infinitely quieter than he was when he was getting fucked. He continued to thrust into Conor slowly before he drew himself free. His hands pulled Conor onto all fours again, spread him open, and that tongue dipped inside him, into the still wet little hole which quivered and clenched with need. Conor’s thighs shuddered. Eli’s hand reached between his legs and stroked his cock firmly while the wet tongue buried insistently between his cheeks, peeling Conor apart from the outside in. Conor cried out helplessly. His body went rigid and jerked. He coated Eli’s hand liberally, one hand gripping the pillow like a claw, his head spinning, his vision darkening so alarmingly that he thought he would pass out. He fell onto his face, exhausted and motionless. A body pressed against his damp skin, a mouth kissing his neck before Eli slid from the bed and went out onto the landing. The bathroom door closed, and there came the sound of running water, teeth being brushed. Conor was barely awake when Eli folded himself back around him and pulled the covers up to their necks, a cool mouth grazing his ear.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 99

Chapter 14 THE

alarm clock woke Conor. He stretched, trying to pull the pillow over his head, finding himself unable to lift it with the weight of another head on it behind him. He shifted his legs, colliding with calves pressed against his own, muscular and soft with hair.

His heart started to beat with glorious excitement before he checked it. No. Not now. He tried to ease himself away from Eli, but an arm tightened around his waist, a mouth against his neck. “Morning.” “Morning,” Conor replied gruffly. He turned over onto his other side so he faced Eli, careful to keep their body parts separate. Eli’s forehead was bruised blue and purple, a lump bisected by the neat line of blue stitches. He smiled and the gleam of honey eyes and white teeth was enough to send Conor almost from his mind. “How are you feeling this morning?” His voice was gentle and solicitous. “I don’t know. Numb.” Eli’s hand stroked the curve of his hip. He leaned forward to kiss Conor. Conor pulled away and sat up, eyes averted. “Listen, I appreciate your comfort last night—” “Is that all I was? Comfort?” Eli’s tone was measured and soft but hardly disguised his hurt. “You were on your way home. Let’s not forget that.” Conor slid his legs from the bed, looking for clothes so he didn’t have to walk across the room naked.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 100 “So nothing’s changed despite what we did last night?” Conor didn’t speak. An affirmation would make Eli feel cheap, like Conor had used him, but what else had he done? There were no clothes to be seen. He climbed from the bed, walked over to the chair in the far corner and pulled on his robe, keeping his back turned as he fastened it up over his half-hard cock. “I’m glad I could help you out, Conor.” Eli’s tone had become frosty, stiff. “Let me know next time you have a personal crisis, and I’ll come around and lie on my back for you again.” Conor turned around, jaw set. “My best friend died yesterday, Eli. Excuse me if I can’t think of you and your needs right now.” Eli climbed from the bed unselfconsciously, his cock swaying semi-erect against his leg, and pulled on pajama pants. “My needs? You thought about your own needs just fine last night, though, didn’t you?” Conor’s lip curled. “Don’t act the injured party. You came into my bed, not the other way around.” “Because you were crying. Because I felt sorry for you.” The two stood looking at each other a moment. “Please go to the hotel or to the airport or wherever, Eli,” Conor said quietly. “Just leave.” Eli looked furious with humiliation and rejection. He stalked across the landing and slammed the spare room door. Conor sighed. He went into the ensuite and locked the door. After a long, hot shower, he came out to silence. Looking into the spare room, he found it empty, the pajama pants folded neatly on the pillow of the bed, Eli’s bloody T-shirt discarded in the straw wastepaper basket in the corner.

“I

DIDN’T expect to see you today, Conor,” John said as Conor arrived at the station at nine.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 101 Conor grunted, poured himself some coffee, added plenty of milk. His gaze strayed to the window, to a few girls in shorts going down to the beach. “I’ve got Eli’s suitcases from his car here.” John pointed across the room. “Do you know where he is?” “No.” “Where did you drop him when you picked him up?” Straight into my bed. “He should be at the hotel.” “I checked there.” “Then I don’t know. I’m not his keeper. Perhaps he went home.” “I don’t think so. I’ve got his passport.” Conor sat down at his desk. He massaged the ache between his eyes. His side and back felt tender, like there was a soft pressure against it, a missing body which should have been there. “Did he stay with you last night?” “Don’t ask me about my private life, John.” John sighed. “I’m going out on a call. I’ll see you later.” He stood and put his hat on. At the door he paused. “By the way, the mortuary’s released Aidan’s body. The funeral’s tomorrow at eleven.” Conor didn’t speak. He only hunched over his coffee and brooded.

AFTER

lunch, it was a trip to Aidan’s parents. Conor remained stoic and dry-eyed in the face of their grief, sitting next to Aidan’s mother in their quaint little cottage overlooking the ocean, watching the surfers and the sunbathers, the town still boiling with summer heat. He drank iced tea, nodded politely as Mrs Bell spoke of Aidan, described the plans for tomorrow, and shook her hand and his father’s solemnly at the door before retreating to his car,

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 102 almost breaking with his own sorrow as he climbed inside and switched on the engine with a shaking hand. He pushed up the air-con to the maximum, sat with the engine idling until the car grew bearable. He had used Eli. Used him like some salve to be applied to his wounds and thrown away afterwards. And Eli seemed to love him for some strange reason Conor couldn’t fathom. Did Conor feel the same? Could the invisible string which seemed to attach his heart to Eli’s be called love? Could the way Eli made him feel just being near be called love? Could the way Conor had suffered and bled for the last six months be called love? He didn’t deserve Eli. Eli didn’t deserve what Conor had done to him. Conor was no better than Liam.

ELI

stood looking in the mirror, straightening his tie, examining the black suit he could ill afford and would maybe take back to the shop after this one wear. He tried to look at himself through Conor’s eyes, wondering if his image pleased, if Conor’s heart flopped softly and desperately within his chest when he saw him, the way Eli’s did when he saw Conor.

The dark, glossy hair combed neatly into place, the pale, honey eyes with dark flecks, the bruised forehead. He leaned closer, looking at the dark smudge on his collar line made by eager lips. He felt himself pressing into Conor’s body again, laying him flat to the bed and taking him. He felt the weight of Conor’s resistance disappear like birds taking flight. At least he thought he had felt it. In the morning, the frost had grown around Conor’s heart once more. Eli had tried. He had hoped to return to Ireland and win Conor’s heart at the second attempt, but Conor was too damaged to trust Eli, too afraid to give himself up.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 103

Chapter 15 IT

WAS raining, a warm summer rain that provoked a sea of umbrellas at the graveside, not all of them funereal black. Conor hunched there in his suit, the one that only came out for weddings, interviews, funerals. The coffin was down in the trench, the priest was intoning the blessing, and across from Aidan’s grave stood Eli. Conor had only noticed him when the procession had made their way out from the church. He kept his head lowered, but Eli’s gaze burned him. He wished the American had gone home. He didn’t want him here. His hands were clammy, and his heart flailed uselessly in his chest, pulled by that invisible string, across the great divide holding his best friend. His mother had arrived that morning with a disturbingly large bag in tow, stating she was staying a few days, and set up camp in Conor’s spare room. The bed hadn’t been changed, and Conor hurried to do it, to take the bloodied T-shirt outside to the bin. His mother accompanied him back across the lawn to his car once Conor had thrown soil on top of Aidan’s coffin, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, her black hat ostentatiously large, her cool, serene face impeccably made up. Constance Kelly was a strong, vivid woman who knew what she wanted. What she wanted, after Conor, was no more children and only a vague interest in her husband. That wasn’t to say that she didn’t love Conor—he thought she did—but all that love had been irrevocably soured by his affair with Liam, and even now, the memory of it echoed in his mother’s voice and in her slate-gray gaze. While his mother had made it up with him, his father hadn’t spoken to him in seven years. He had

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 104 told Conor’s mother that he no longer had a son. He refused to acknowledge one man lying with another.

THE wake was held in the function room of the Oriel hotel, with a free bar and a lavish buffet table. John and Cormac attended, both on soft drinks, John making it clear that Conor was to stay and not think about coming back to work that day. Conor didn’t want to stay. He waited at the bar for his second drink and tried to avoid the honey gaze across the room. Eli stood with some of the local fishermen, men whose boats he’d used for his work earlier in the week, and he stared at Conor longingly like a broken-hearted puppy. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” his mother asked by his side. “Which friend?” Conor’s neck prickled with unease. “The marine biologist. Isn’t that him over there with the bump on his head? The one who was staring at you all the way through the burial.” Conor flushed. Before he could speak, his mother raised her hand and gestured to Eli. “What are you doing?” “I want to meet him.” Eli came over hesitantly, looking enquiringly at Conor, his face unsure and unhappy, the bruise growing ever more kaleidoscopic with each passing hour. “Hello, I’m Constance Kelly. Conor’s told me about you.” His mother held out a delicate hand. Eli glanced at Conor, looking confused and shook it. “Eli Sanders.” “What a lovely name. Are your parents religious?” “Yes.” Eli had yet to smile. His posture was tense as though poised for flight.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 105 Constance nodded approvingly. “And where are you from, Eli? As if I couldn’t guess with that adorable accent.” “California. Originally Seal Beach, but I live in Santa Monica now.” “How did you come to meet my boy?” “I was here in January, doing an autopsy on a whale washed up on the beach.” “Oh of course, Conor told me all about it. Do you think he’ll be on the TV?” Eli’s expression softened slightly as he glanced at Conor. “I think there was some footage of him, but I haven’t seen the final edit.” “So what are you doing back here, Eli? Did you come back for Conor?” There was a startled silence, and Eli reddened. “Didn’t I already tell you, mother?” Conor snapped. “He’s here doing some work. A project. He’s my friend. Nothing else.” Eli seemed to deflate at this denial. Constance shrugged and picked up her glass of sherry. “And excuse me if I don’t believe you when I see how attractive he is, Conor.” “Jesus.” “Don’t you dare blaspheme at me.” His mother’s tone was like a whip, her eyes like ice. The two stared each other down furiously. In the silence, Eli muttered his excuses and slinked away, pulling the invisible string to breaking point behind him.

ELI caught up with him in the bathroom an hour later. Conor was at the sink washing his hands. There was a man behind him in a cubicle.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 106 “Now I know why you’re like you are,” Eli said in his ear. “Meaning?” Conor stiffened, glancing towards the cubicle. “Your mother. She’s a homophobe. She’s the reason you treat me with guilt and shame.” Conor closed his eyes a moment. “She thinks it’s a sin. I don’t. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you. I swear.” “My plane leaves at twelve, and I’ll be on it this time. I’m leaving at nine. Meet me at eight in the sand dunes if you want to say goodbye.” Eli was gone before Conor could speak. He had an idea of what sort of goodbye Eli had in mind if he wanted to meet in so private a place. He trembled at the thought. Entwined with Eli in the sand as he had longed to be that first time they had been alone there together, after Eli and Liam had settled their jealousy with a fist-fight. He remembered Eli’s words, words branded on his brain for all time, seared into each lobe and fissure. I’m a better man than he’ll ever be. I wanted you for all the right reasons. It seemed Eli wanted him for reasons as simple as love. No one might ever love Conor again in this lifetime, and yet still he was ready to throw Eli away.

HIS

mother had gone home when Conor left the wake. The beach was deserted, still light with the shadows deepening, the twilight air warm with a gentle sea breeze. The tall reeds swayed as Conor entered the sand dunes, enclosed from all sides. Eli lay there on the sand waiting, changed into jeans and Tshirt. As soon as he saw Conor, he sat up, and then to Conor’s disbelief, he started to unfasten his belt. Conor was overcome by blind need when he saw it was being offered on a plate. He started forward, gripped Eli hard by one shoulder, spun him around and forced him down on his knees in the sand. Eli groaned, helping Conor as he stripped his pants and boxers down, his bare backside almost luminescent in the gathering twilight. Panting

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 107 with excitement, Conor yanked his own clothes down, slicked himself with spit, and thrust into Eli. Eli cried out, bracing himself on trembling arms, pushing back against Conor as he thrust ever deeper. Eli’s head was almost in a patch of reeds, and he hissed as one must have caught him in the face. Conor gripped him by the hips and dragged him backward on the sand. Then he held him hard by one shoulder, riding Eli like a bucking bronco, a hand feeling around him to jerk him off roughly. Eli was loud, gasping and moaning, muscles clenched hard around Conor, bringing him effortlessly to climax. They came together, barely two minutes after Conor had appeared in the dunes, Eli going weightless in Conor’s hands, falling face first into the sand, Conor slipping wetly from him. He knelt there a moment looking down at his lover, then he fastened himself up and lay down quietly next to Eli. Eli breathed heavily. He turned over onto his back and pulled his pants up, dressing himself. Sweat gleamed on his bruised forehead. There was a cut on his cheek which dribbled blood. Conor smoothed his fingertips over it gently. This was not how he wanted to remember his last time with Eli. He felt ashamed of his own violence and need. Eli spoke. “Now we’ve got that out of the way, perhaps we can talk.” Conor remained silent. “Tell me about your family.” Conor arched a brow. “You want my biography now that you’re leaving?” “Yeah. I want to remember the Irish guy I once loved when I’m eighty and incontinent in a home someplace.” Conor turned his head away. “What do you want to know?” “What does your mother do?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 108 “She writes detective novels. They’re moderately successful. You wouldn’t see them on the best-selling list. They’re oldfashioned. Agatha Christie type.” “And your father?” “He’s a policeman.” “Of course. Does he feel the same way about your lifestyle your mother does?” “He hasn’t spoken to me in seven years.” Eli sighed. He reached for Conor’s hand, entwining his fingers with his. “And I’m betting you’re an only child.” “How did you know that?” “Your mother doesn’t seem the maternal type.” “She’s given you a very bad impression, hasn’t she?” “Yeah.” “What about you, Eli? I imagine you’re from some liberal middle class family that you take your boyfriends home to meet at Thanksgiving. Am I right?” It was said with a hint of spite and envy that Conor couldn’t control. “I guess. I have a brother called Noah who lives in Huntington Beach with his wife. He’s a year older than me, and I told him when I was eighteen. He teased me, but he wasn’t bothered. I told my dad when I was twenty. I went into his office and I said, ‘Dad, I like guys. I’m sorry if you don’t like that, and I promise I never set out to disappoint you, but that’s the way it is. That fact isn’t going to change. I’m not going to be getting married or providing you with a grandchild.’ He was making a model aeroplane. He’s a structural engineer. He said, ‘Son, I don’t care where you put it as long as you put a rubber on it,’ and he opened his drawer and tossed me a pack of condoms. That was his final word on the matter. A year later I took my first boyfriend home to meet him, and my folks got on with him like a house on fire.” “Have you had a lot of boyfriends?” Conor couldn’t help the knot of possession which twisted his guts. “No.” Eli’s fingers stroked his.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 109 “Have you loved anybody?” “Only you.” The answer came without a pause. The tears rushed instantly to Conor’s eyes. He sat up, turning away. Eli knelt behind him, put an arm around his torso, his mouth to Conor’s neck. “I imagined taking you home to them. My mother loves accents. She’d find you so exotic, and she’d be so delighted you’re a cop. My father’d be fascinated at the difference between the law here and the law at home and probably question you for hours before he forced you into a game of chess and beat your ass effortlessly. We’d sit down for dinner with Noah and Georgia and their little boy Stephen. When Stephen asked who you are, Noah would tell him you’re Uncle Eli’s special friend. We’d be drunk at the end of the night, and my mother would kiss you goodbye like you were already part of the family and ask you to come back soon.” Conor’s head hung down. He started to cry silently. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Eli said quickly, tightening his arm around Conor, pulling him back against his body. Don’t leave me in this abyss, Conor wanted to say. But the words remained in his mouth, held prisoner behind his teeth by fear and inaction.

THEY

lay side by side in the sand, looking up at the darkening violet sky with its smudges of cloud. “Tell me something, Eli. When you cut Liam with your scalpel during dissection. Was it accidentally on purpose?” Eli turned his head. He smirked, his face dimpling on either side of his sensual mouth. “Don’t know what you mean. Although I could ask if you broke his leg on purpose.” “I didn’t.” “No. I wouldn’t have expected you to do something like that.” There was silence.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 110 “I just want you to know that… what just happened.” Eli hesitated a moment. “I’m safe. I wasn’t so far gone that I would have let you do that. If I wasn’t sure. And I trust you.” Conor didn’t speak because it was the furthest thing from his mind. That ultimate closeness with Eli would be merely another treasured memory. Their fingers held, grains of sand sliding between their palms, slipping away as fast as the time left. “Tell me something else about you,” Conor said. “What do you want to know?” “Your favorite color.” “Black.” “Your favorite film.” “Brokeback Mountain.” “Your favorite song.” “‘Estranged’ by Guns ’n’ Roses.” “Your favorite place in the world.” Eli turned his head. He looked at Conor with surprise on his face. “Right here, of course,” he said almost chastisingly. “In the place which holds my heart.” Their gazes remained locked, the invisible string between them pulled tighter than ever before. Pulled so it tugged on the muscle and sinew of Conor’s heart, forcing it to pump blood faster, each contraction a spasm of pain that seemed to reverberate through his entire body. I’m having a heart attack, he thought for not the first time. This is how it feels to die. He put a hand to his chest. “What’s the matter?” Conor didn’t reply. He only pressed closer to Eli, seeking his warmth, his lips against the tender skin of his lover’s smooth throat. Eli put an arm around him, holding him close. His fingers threaded gently through Conor’s hair. “I love you, and I’ll always

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 111 love you, no matter what. Don’t forget that. And if one day you change your mind about us, I’ll be waiting.” Conor squeezed his eyes shut but the tears spilled from them regardless. He clutched at Eli’s shoulder. “Goodbye, Conor.” Eli kissed him on the forehead, on each wet eyelid, and finally on his mouth. Then he disentangled himself from Conor and climbed to his feet. He made his way out of the sand dunes. Once he was on the beach, he turned around to look back. He was a silhouette against the dark sky and the inky ocean, every line of his body as familiar to Conor as his own. Eli stood there a long moment before he moved off, his feet leaving prints in the damp sand that would soon be swallowed by the incoming tide.

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Chapter 16 HIS

mother was sitting at the table when Conor entered the kitchen. He threw his keys onto the work surface, took a glass from the overhead cupboard, and poured some wine from an open bottle in the fridge. He started to drink steadily, not looking at his mother, preparing himself for another confrontation. “Where did your friend go?” “Home.” “Home to his house or home to America?” “Home to America.” “Why?” “Because I told him to.” “Why?” “Because he’s in love with me.” “Mother of God.” Constance crossed herself.

“I sent him away because of you and because of other people. Because I’m too afraid to take what I want.” “I don’t want to hear any more. I’m not responsible for your perverted choices. For your failure to be a normal man. To be any sort of man at all.” “Perverted?” Conor slammed his glass down on the top. “I love him, Mother. I’m a pervert for loving someone more than I love myself, am I?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 113 Constance’s lip curled. “You disgust me. You’re going to burn in hell, Conor.” Conor stalked over to her, leaning down. “No, you’re going to burn in hell for being the bigot you are.” His mother slapped him across the face. He reeled back, cheek burning. He gripped his keys from the work surface. “When I come back, I want you gone. We’re finished. I never want to see you again as long as I live.” They stared each other down a moment with identically burning eyes before Conor stormed from the house and slammed the door. He threw himself into his car and sat there almost gasping for breath. He felt desperate and wild. He wanted to smash something to pieces. He wanted to scream and scream until his voice was gone. He started the engine, turned his car around, and gunned it out of the street, driving recklessly, furiously. The airport was a good distance away. Conor soon had to pull over to calm down before he wrapped himself around a lamp post. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to chase Eli and beg him to stay? What happened after three months? Did he give up his life here to go to America with Eli? What if Eli didn’t want him after three months? What if he decided Conor was as worthless as Liam had evidently thought he was, had had his fun and was ready to go home and find a real man? He wiped damp palms on his pants, then he realized he still had the goddamn funeral suit on, and he discarded the tie and the jacket, opening his top button. He sat back and took a few deep breaths. Don’t be a pussy all your life, Conor. Like Eli said, three months was better than nothing at all. Three months with Eli was the stuff of dreams. Life was about compromise, and Conor shouldn’t be greedy for more. He could be dead in three months. Like poor Aidan. He started the engine again, checked his mirror, and pulled out into the dark road.

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HE

LOOKED at the clock all the way there. He wasn’t going to make it, he knew that, and sure enough it was five minutes past midnight when he pulled up outside the airport, leaving his car on double yellows. For long seconds he stared at the screen, seeing as Galway didn’t operate direct flights to America. The only flight leaving at twelve was one to Manchester. The screen told him it was departing. The check in desk was closed. Conor used his badge to get past security, following the gate number signs, breaking into a run. He reached the gate to find it empty. Outside on the dark tarmac, steps were removed and a plane taxied away, taking with it across the Atlantic all Conor’s hopes and dreams and his heart, forever.

ELI

cried for the entire journey to Manchester and then a large portion of the journey to LAX, hunched against the window, his pale, tear-streaked face reflected back at him, the people behind him whispering. The woman next to him offered him tissues at frequent intervals and finally asked him if he wanted to talk about it. Eli shook his head and drowned in his own misery. The trip had not gone to plan at all. Not only had he lost his prestigious research project and the chance of even better things after it, but he had lost the reason why he had returned to Ireland in the first place. People would be angry and disappointed with him when he got home, but there was no one more disappointed in him than himself.

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Chapter 17 CONOR’S grief was twofold. He grieved for both Aidan and Eli. Eli was just as dead to him as Aidan was. He had had his second chance and blown it. If he had once felt Liam’s loss like his heart was shattered for all time, it was nothing compared to his misery over Eli. It put Liam into perspective. Liam had never been the one. He had only been Conor’s first one. His first heartbreak, the warm-up for Eli.

HIS mother finally called after several weeks of silence. “Hello, Conor?” “What do you want?” “Are you still sulking?” “Sulking? You told me I was a pervert and I’m going to burn in hell. I’m your son.” His mother was quiet a moment. “I told your father about your new man.” “He’s not my new man. He’s gone home. Remember?” His mother ignored him. “He said it looked like you were never going to change. That we needed to accept the fact that you like men, but that didn’t mean we had to like it.” “I’m about to hang up.” “Have you met anybody else?” “No.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 116 “That’s a blessing. I could come up this week. Take you out to lunch.” “I’m busy.” “You sound depressed.” “I am depressed.” “Because your man went home?” “He’s not my man. He was never my man. Stop calling him that.” “But you wished he was.” Conor slumped back on the couch in defeat, eyes closed. “Please, what do you want?” “For the record, I liked him. He was nice.” Conor started to yell. “Don’t tell me that now. Why would you tell me that after what you’ve done? To tell me I’m a pervert and sinner, but actually, the man I was in love with was nice? Have you no comprehension of what you’ve done, of what I’ve given up? Do you think anyone like him’s going to come along again in my lifetime?” “Don’t say that, Conor. There’s someone out there for you.” “There was. He’s in America.” Conor started to cry. “Don’t, baby.” “Don’t call me that. Don’t pretend like you care when you’re glad he’s gone.” “You should see your GP. Get some anti-depressants.” “And what’s the point in that? I’m depressed because he’s not here. What would drugs change exactly?” “Then you should pray.” “And if I prayed, I would pray for him to come back. And I know he’s never coming back. Not ever.” “Conor….” Conor hung up.

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IT

WAS John who told him the whale documentary would be shown that weekend on the cable channel. For only a moment, Conor contemplated not watching it. He drew the curtains that night and put a bottle of wine and a glass on the table before he switched on the TV and sat down. The first thing he saw was his own beach, windswept, howling, and rain-torn. The next was the dark hulk of the stillintact whale. As much of the background of interested spectators as possible had been cut out, but Conor caught a glimpse of himself at the barricade, head turned, looking toward the whale. And then Eli appeared. He addressed the camera, white teeth bright in his pale face, relaxed, confident. Conor’s heart clenched and spit out his blood. Pain shot through him. Eli began his dissection. The program was interspersed with Eli’s colleague Piers narrating over diagrams and models of the whale and video of whales in action. After over half an hour, Conor made his debut in the mouth of the whale with Eli. He caught his breath, sat forward, staring at the TV. God, they hadn’t cut this out at all, and Jesus, there was his love for Eli for all to see. Filmed from the side they stood close, face to face, looking at the other. Conor reached for his remote and paused the live TV. There. Anyone who ever wondered now knew the extent of Conor’s adoration. The evidence was there. He let the documentary play on, watched his own awkward body language and the way his gaze went constantly back to Eli. And he ached to be back on that beach with the man who had brought him back to life. He drifted off into fantasy. Eli on his lap, riding him, mouth hot over his. Even the appearance of Liam did nothing to spoil his reverie. The program ended, the credits rolled, and Conor waited for Eli’s name. Eli Sanders, University of Southern California. You were mine for one night, Eli Sanders. And then I threw you away.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 118 The phone rang, and Conor lifted it up with tears in his eyes. “I’ve just seen you on TV, Conor,” his mother said. “Quite the star you were. Even if you made your feelings for the American very obvious.” “Sorry I embarrassed you. Hopefully the ladies at your bridge club won’t be too scathing about your queer son.” He hung up.

HE

HAD lots of comments from the locals the next day, but even if they knew, most of them were too tactful to mention the scene with Eli. Rather, they praised Conor’s TV debut and the photography of their beautiful beach. Apart from John that was, who remarked, “That was some chemistry between you and Eli.” Conor only scowled at him.

LIFE went on with difficulty, but Conor’s pain and loss didn’t fade as he imagined it might. He couldn’t sleep for his memories and the aching in his chest. As time went on, the worse it got. After two months, he decided this couldn’t go on. The seed was planted in his mind and took several days to germinate before it emerged fully formed. He arranged two weeks holiday from work and asked John to take Cinnamon. Then he booked a ticket to LA via Manchester. He sat at home and thought about what he was going to do when he got to America. He needed something to show for it, to show he was serious. Some statement. He couldn’t just go all those thousands of miles and say “here I am” with no plan. He needed a plan. For the future. Their future. But any firm resolve failed to show. He only wanted to put himself in Eli’s hands and let his love decide.

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Chapter 18 THE weather was

a shock to Conor. He took a taxi from LAX and booked in at his hotel. He was exhausted, but time couldn’t wait. He showered, changed, and then took a taxi to the address on his piece of paper. He would just have to hope Eli wasn’t off on the other side of the world on a research project. His taxi pulled up at the University of Southern California, and he asked his way around campus until he found the Wrigley Institute for Environmental Studies. He trembled with fear and apprehension as he went in and asked for Eli at the reception desk. The lady behind it, young and bright with blonde pigtails, told him Eli had an office on the second floor. Conor took the stairs on shaking legs, stopping before the door marked with a brass plaque. Dr. E. Sanders. Eli had never mentioned that he owned this title. Conor stared, suppressing the urge to run his finger possessively over the name. A surge of excitement made him slip into fantasy. Imagine being the other half of Dr. Eli Sanders. Imagine the prestige and the reflected glory which would come with associating with a man so intelligent and respected. Imagine how proud Conor would feel if the beautiful and big-brained Eli was his. He sagged abruptly against the door, fists clenched, eyes squeezed shut. He turned away quickly and started to walk back to the stairs. “Can I help you?” A woman had come from the office next door. Conor stumbled over his words. “I was looking for Eli.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 120 The woman, in her early forties, attractive with flaming red hair, stepped toward him with intrigue written all over her face. “He’s presenting at a conference today. Don’t tell me you’re Conor.” Conor’s mouth dropped open. Eli had spoken about him. He nodded mutely. The woman smiled. She moved forward. “I’m Violet Kaye, a friend of Eli’s. He’s mentioned you more than a few times.” Conor flushed. He shook her hand. “I saw you on the film. You’re better looking in the flesh. Although there was something about you all wind-swept in uniform on that beach.” Conor’s face burned ever hotter. Violet smiled. “He owes me a hundred bucks. I told him you’d be here one day. He said you were gone forever.” A lump narrowed Conor’s throat. “I knew you’d come. I saw the way you looked at him on the beach.” Conor lowered his head. He fought to gain a grip on his emotions. “Where is he?” he asked in a whisper. “He’s at the Beverly Hilton. I could give you a ride there.” “That’s very kind of you.” “Let’s go.”

THE

lobby of the Beverly Hilton on Wilshire Boulevard was all creams and browns, the floor highly polished, the ceilings high, supported by vast pillars. Opposite the reception desk, a huge fish tank was set into a recess. Expensively dressed people milled about; porters transported luggage on wheeled holders. Violet directed Conor to the international ballroom where the conference was being held. She shook his hand and wished him luck. Conor thanked her and loitered a moment in the lobby before he started

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 121 to walk in the direction she had pointed, following the signs to the right. A sign outside the ballroom announced the conference subject as Ecological effects of oil spills: the future of our marine life. But the vast ballroom was empty apart from waiters clearing tables, and Conor followed a few people onto an adjoining terrace. He stood looking around, scanning faces anxiously until his gaze locked on his target. There he was. Standing in a group of two men and one woman talking, Eli wore a charcoal gray suit, white shirt, and silver tie. His dark brown hair was neatly combed and glossy. The scar on his forehead stood out, pale and pink. He nodded politely to whatever the lady opposite him said and said something of his own, lifting a glass of wine to his lips. But he didn’t smile. Conor watched him covertly for several minutes, his interactions with the rest of the group, and not once did he see Eli smile. What he did see was Eli’s attention wandering, his gaze shifting around the room aimlessly, seemingly not looking for anything in particular. How had Eli’s life been since he had left Ireland? Was Eli depressed, pining, inconsolable? How many men had he had since Conor, and how had they compared? Conor’s hands were damp, his heart a furiously beating weight in his chest as he waited to catch Eli’s roving eye. Eli’s gaze swept over him in the next moment, caught, fixed, staring. Eli went deadly pale, frozen to the spot. Someone spoke to him, and he removed his gaze, answering the man, but even as he spoke, his eyes drifted back to Conor’s. Conor held his gaze with the blood roaring in his ears. He couldn’t go over there. He couldn’t have a reunion with Eli’s colleagues watching, not when he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off him. He held Eli’s gaze a moment longer, and then he turned and walked out of the room, looking back to make it clear what he wanted. He stood conspicuously in the lobby behind a pillar near the main entrance, looking around it, trying not to stare toward where Eli would appear if he wanted to see Conor. He shifted nervously from one foot to another, glancing out through the windows at the

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 122 expensive cars out front then back to the corridor to the ballroom for the thousandth time. He had no idea how long he waited, but it was probably only five minutes even though it felt like an hour until Eli appeared around the corner and strode down the strip of carpet leading toward the main entrance. Conor drew himself up from leaning on the pillar and showed himself. He didn’t step out, though. He was too scared. At least, not until he glanced around again and looked into Eli’s eyes. Eli looked desperate—flushed, anxious, and close to tears. He crossed the distance to Conor in a few short steps and threw his arms around his neck. Conor closed his eyes. He didn’t mind if anyone was watching through the windows. He held Eli close to his chest, one hand cradling his head tenderly. Eli smelled good, and his hair was so soft. He trembled against Conor, holding him hard, and Conor asked himself why he had actually been afraid that Eli would reject him. He kissed the scar on Eli’s forehead before he lifted his face. “What are you doing here?” His voice was an earnest whisper, his large, gleaming honey-colored eyes fixed on Conor. Conor swept a thumb over his pale, plump lips. “I’ve come for you.” Eli sucked in his breath. He looked over his shoulder. “I have to go back….” He almost moaned. “It’s okay,” Conor said, because he hadn’t expected Eli to walk away from his job. “I’ll be a couple of hours. Where’re you staying?” “The Hacienda near LAX.” “That’s only about ten miles from where I live. I’ll come to you. What room?” “Six two eight.” Eli pressed his lips fleetingly to his, unmindful of a couple getting out of their Lamborghini outside. He turned away without

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 123 another word and hurried back across the lobby, disappearing from view. Conor stood with his fingers pressed against his lips a moment. They seemed to burn with Eli’s kiss in long-remembered need and passion. They craved more, as did his body. He pushed open the door and stepped outside to a curious look from one of the valets, clearly having seen Conor locked in an embrace with another man. He asked the man for a taxi, and the man nodded and went away. Conor sat down on a bench. He closed his eyes and let the warm air wash over him. It was all right. It was going to be all right.

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Chapter 19 CONOR

was in one of the hotel’s robes, his hair damp, when the knock came at the door. He hadn’t rushed to get dressed because he intended to be taking his clothes off again very soon. A bottle of extortionate champagne stood in an ice bucket on the table by the window. The curtains were closed, the room lit by the bedside lamp. Conor went to the door with a thousand butterflies taking flight in his stomach. Eli, jacket and tie discarded, still looked pale and anxious and good enough to eat. He almost pounced upon Conor, arms around his neck, pushing him backward into the room with the weight of his body. The door swung shut, their lips collided, and Conor tasted heaven. Eli moaned softly. His hands fumbled the belt to Conor’s robe open, and he drew the garment swiftly off his shoulders. He pushed Conor naked onto the bed, and Conor gasped in excitement as Eli stretched out over him. His hands moved of their own accord, pulling at buttons, yanking them open when they failed to comply immediately. He felt some ping off the garment, but Eli didn’t seem to care. He helped Conor shed his shirt without ever breaking their mouths and then Eli buried his face in Conor’s neck, sliding down his torso. Conor writhed as burning kisses peppered his chest, Eli’s hot mouth sucking at both nipples one after the other before moving down into his groin. And then Eli’s mouth was full with Conor’s cock, and Conor was crying out uncontrollably, holding his partner by the hair and almost begging for more.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 125 Eli was down there the longest time. He brought Conor steadily closer to the edge, his tongue licking the head of Conor’s cock delicately, concentrating on the most sensitive areas before sweeping down the sides of his shaft. He licked gently at Conor’s balls and sucked them into his mouth. He pressed his tongue against the sensitive skin behind them. He kissed the insides of Conor’s thighs and worked his way up to take him in his mouth again, while all the time Conor drowned in delirium beneath him. “Please… please…,” he gasped when Eli finally came up for air. Eli smirked wickedly. “Please what?” “You know what. I need you.” Eli climbed off the bed and kicked his shoes off. He peeled off his socks and unfastened his pants, and Conor watched them come down his long, slim legs. The bulge in his tight, white boxers was gratifying and unbelievably arousing. Eli pushed them down, letting his erection spring free, and then he crawled over Conor’s body once more, straddling his hips. Conor put his hands out, trailing them down Eli’s torso, letting his fingers remember what his brain had never forgot. He touched the hard muscle of Eli’s chest and stomach. He stroked the neatly cropped hair between Eli’s legs, and then he took Eli’s cock in his hand and slowly slid it through his palm. Eli watched him with luscious lips parted and pupils huge in his honey eyes. He leaned forward, kissing Conor, and Conor’s hands moved to cup the cheeks of his perfect bottom, stroking, massaging, spreading. Eli deliberately rubbed himself against Conor’s cock, letting it slip between his buttocks. Conor felt it right against Eli’s entrance, sliding against the puckered little hole, and he had to fight with himself not to thrust forward and take Eli dry. Eli continued to move against him. He moaned softly, gripping Conor’s cock, holding it as he pushed himself backward. Conor gasped as the very tip of his cock was swallowed, the friction dry and tight.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 126 Eli pulled back. He climbed from Conor’s lap and went to his discarded pants where he pulled free a small bottle and a packet of condoms. “I had to stop at a drugstore on the way here,” he said with a smile. “I don’t want you to think I always carry these things with me. Although I did when I was in Ireland, because I was hoping to go to bed with you every time I saw you.” Conor didn’t speak. He couldn’t for the blood raging in his ears. He took the bottle from Eli as he climbed back on him and poured a generous amount over his fingers. Eli unwrapped the box and drew one condom out while Conor reached behind him, seeking. Eli gasped as Conor smoothed the cold liquid between his buttocks. He found Eli’s entrance with one finger and stroked around it, massaging, teasing, finally pressing until Eli accepted him readily. Eli fell forward over his chest, shuddering against him, tearing the condom open with his teeth. Conor took hold of his cock. He rubbed it against Eli’s wet entrance and listened to his lover whimper with need. Eli sat back. He rolled the condom onto Conor and lubricated it. Then he slid himself over Conor’s hips and gripped his cock in one hand. Eli looked down at him, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, the arousal on his face almost tangible. “Has there been anyone else since me?” he asked in a whisper. “God, no,” Conor said immediately. “Me either. I’ll never want anyone again the way I want you.” Conor’s breath caught in his throat as Eli sat down on him, impaling himself deeply all the way, gasping and moaning, his head back. The long curve of his throat shone with sweat. Conor sat up immediately to taste it, holding Eli firm in his lap. Eli groaned, adjusting his legs, spreading them wider to steady himself on the bed, and then they were face to face, looking into each other’s eyes. Eli rocked himself slowly on Conor. The ecstasy sang in Conor’s veins as the silky insides gripped him hard, bringing him

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 127 easily towards climax. He bent his head to one nipple, toying at it with his lips, licking it stiff, loving how Eli’s back arched under his attention. He kissed Eli’s throat, his hands gripping his buttocks, lifting Eli and thrusting up to meet him as he came back down. “Oh God, oh God…” Eli burst out, “I love you.” Conor sought Eli’s mouth with a groan. They kissed hard, their tongues tangling, bodies moving together in tandem. Conor reached between their bodies for Eli’s cock. It was wet and rock hard, and Eli pushed it needily into his hand as Conor jerked him off. The feel of it in Conor’s hand excited him further. He wished he could suck Eli off at the same time as fucking him. He threw Eli backwards onto the bed. Kneeling between Eli’s spread knees, still inside him, he could reach his cock. He bent his head and sucked Eli into his mouth. Eli groaned, arms thrown above his head, hands gripping the headboard. He moved his hips, fucking himself on Conor’s cock while Conor sucked him off. Conor looked up, watching Eli’s beautiful body undulate with pleasure beneath him. He lifted his head. Eli opened his eyes. He pulled Conor forward, legs wrapping around his back. Conor drove deeply into him, crushing Eli’s mouth beneath his, gasping into it as his orgasm loomed. Eli’s hands gripped his back, his buttocks. His nails scratched. He arched up off the bed beneath Conor, moaning loudly just as Conor remembered from his fondest memories. Conor moved faster and harder, reaching between them for Eli’s cock, giving it a few sharp tugs before Eli exploded, showering his own chest in come, crying out in his ecstasy, trembling below Conor, his muscles clenching hard. Conor let go. He thrust as deep as he could go, and the orgasm spilled over him like molten metal, almost turning him inside out with its fury. He groaned, shuddering, shaking for long moments before finally collapsing onto his lover. Eli’s hand cradled Conor’s head against his neck. Conor’s lips touched the damp skin, kissing languidly.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 128 “Oh my God,” Eli finally laughed after several minutes of silence. “Sex with you just gets better and better.” Conor smiled against his neck. He kept his face hidden, too tired to move, already drifting away into exhaustion.

ELI had somehow extricated himself from beneath Conor when he woke up although Conor didn’t remember. He was laying by his lover’s side, the sheet over them both, Eli awake beside him and looking up at the ceiling. Eli turned his head when Conor moved. “Hey.” His smile was almost shy, as though the intense lovemaking that had just occurred and his own excitement embarrassed him. Perhaps today was the first time Eli had smiled since leaving Ireland. Conor smiled back, and it felt foreign on his face. He remembered Eli’s declaration of love, and his heart swelled and heated. He slid from the bed and walked naked over to the champagne bucket, pulling the bottle free from the mostly melted ice. He poured two glasses and brought them back to the bed. Eli sat up, the sheet falling to his groin, exposing the dark thatch of hair. He grinned as he took the glass. “What’s this for?” “Like you don’t know,” Conor teased, getting back in bed. He held up his glass. “To us.” They clinked their glasses together and drank. Eli put an arm around Conor’s neck suddenly, holding hard. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered, his voice breaking and his body trembled with barely restrained sobs against Conor’s. Conor reached behind him to put his glass down, then he drew Eli to him and held him close, stroking his head, shushing him. “It’s okay.”

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THEY drank the bottle between them and made love under its influence, Eli on his side, Conor behind him, a hand between his legs, his lips on Eli’s throat. Conor’s heart beat hard against Eli’s back. Would these feelings ever die, if he had Eli with him now for the rest of his life? He couldn’t see how they would. Eli came with a whimper, head craned back over his shoulder to kiss Conor, his ribcage heaving against him. Conor followed, clinging hard to his lover.

ELI seemed shy and nervous again in the

afterglow. He leaned on his arm looking down at Conor. “What’s the plan?” “What do you mean?” “When you said you’d come for me.” “What I said.” “So… what do you want to do? Do you want a long-distance relationship, or do you want to live with me?” Conor reached up, touched one smooth cheek. “I want to live with you.” He paused. “If you want to live with me.” “I do.” Eli said it solemnly like he was making wedding vows. Conor let the tense knots in his stomach relax. “Where?” Eli asked. “Wherever you want.” “You mean that?” “Yes, I mean it. I’d live in the North Pole if you wanted it, Eli.” “So, if I was selfish enough to say I wanted to stay here, would you come live here too?” Eli looked like he was holding his breath, eyes huge and anxious. Conor nodded without hesitation.

Eli threw himself down on him and kissed him. “Oh my God, I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 130 Conor held his head up so he could look into Eli’s eyes. “I don’t know how you can say that. You’ve been through the wringer for me.” “Like you weren’t worth it,” Eli said almost scornfully and then grinned. He slid down so his head rested over Conor’s heart. “Are you almost ready to go again?” “Jesus. Is this how it’s going to be? Me your sex slave?” “You have to make it up to me somehow.” Conor fingered Eli’s silky hair. “Oh, I’ll make it up to you all right,” he murmured. “I promise you that.”

ELI was insatiable. He woke Conor before dawn, pressing his body against him, covering his shoulder with light kisses, hands seeking his most private areas. Conor rolled against him, halfawake, responding to his mouth, and just like that time in Ireland, he let Eli press him down and have his wicked way with him. It hurt, but in a good way. A way which had Conor gasping and gripping onto Eli’s body for dear life. He lay still in the afterglow, his fluids warm against his stomach, Eli sliding away to disappear into the bathroom. Still, he was sleepy and drifting away again. Eli pressed against him once more. “I’m hungry,” he whispered. “Could we get some breakfast? And I have a terrible headache from the champagne.” Conor smiled. He put an arm around his lover and drew him close. “Get the menu,” he said, kissing the top of Eli’s head. He felt groggy and thirsty himself. He could have done with many more hours sleep, but why would you want to sleep away the day when you had Eli beside you?

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CONOR watched Eli eat eggs and toast and guzzle vast quantities of orange juice and coffee. He had no appetite himself, content to watch his lover from the bed and luxuriate in just being with him. Eli finally crawled back into bed and gave Conor a sweet, orangey kiss. “I have to go to work,” he said in a gravely disappointed tone. Conor nodded, even though the thought of being separated for even a moment was too much to bear. Eli stroked his hair softly back from his forehead. “I’m going to a seal sanctuary. You can come with me if you like.” He smiled hopefully. Conor nodded. “I’d like that.” “One more time for the road?” “You’ve just eaten.” “So? It takes a lot to make me puke.” Eli grinned, sliding down Conor’s body, kissing the insides of his thighs gently. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep up with you,” Conor said honestly. “I think you’ll keep up just fine,” Eli retorted as he fondled Conor’s stiffening prick.

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Chapter 20 CONOR checked out of the hotel next day and moved to Eli’s cozy, quirky, two-bedroom apartment at Venice Beach, which had a view of the ocean if the wind moved the trees the right way. For the first few days, they didn’t talk about the fact Conor had committed to moving to America and the awkward, lengthy logistics and inevitable separation it would involve. Conor didn’t want to think about the almost impossible task ahead. They were too busy discovering each other. They made love insatiably everywhere—on the balcony at night, the shower, the kitchen table, the living room floor, up against the wall by the front door after coming in late one night. Eli took Conor to as many of his work days as he could. When he wasn’t there, Conor walked around the shops, haunted Santa Monica Pier, swam in the ocean, or sat by the communal pool under an umbrella and read a book from Eli’s extensive collection. He knew the other residents talked about him, and it wasn’t long before a couple of girls asked him if he was Eli’s new man. He smiled, reddened awkwardly, and answered in the affirmative, and the two girls soon invited him and Eli around to dinner. Eli didn’t keep his hands off Conor all night. Touching his knees under the table, putting an arm around him, leaning over to kiss him. Conor was embarrassed, even though the girls didn’t seem to mind. When he got home, though, a fight was brewing. “What’s the deal with you touching me up all night?” Eli was drunk, making coffee with exaggerated care. He turned around, eyes wide. “What?” “You heard me.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 133 Eli arched a brow, frowning. “In case you hadn’t noticed, they know we’re two raving queers. It’s okay to touch you in front of them.” Conor flushed. “I hate that word, and that’s not what I’m talking about.” Eli shrugged. He reached for some milk from the fridge. “Come on, I played it up for them. They like a little man-on-man. What’s wrong with giving them what they want?” “What?” Conor was baffled. Eli started to laugh. He regarded Conor like something he didn’t quite know what to do with. “Are you serious? Have you lived your life under a rock?” Conor didn’t like that, because at times he felt like he had. “Fuck off,” he told Eli rudely. “Don’t be such an asshole,” Eli snapped back instantly, slamming the fridge door. “I’m just telling you how it is. There’s segments of straight women out there who like to watch two men get it on, you know, like straight men like to watch two women get it on, and I can’t believe you didn’t know that.” “Well, I didn’t.” Conor folded his arms, looking out of the window. “There’s no need to speak to me that way.” “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed the way they watch us with tongues hanging out when we’re at the pool.” “I haven’t. My attention is usually occupied by you.” Eli’s expression softened. He reached out to Conor. Conor shrugged him off and stalked away. Eli caught up with him in the bedroom. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t touch you in public even when people know we’re together, seeing as you abhor it so much and you’re so ashamed.” His tone was scathing. “I just wanted to give the girls a thrill. Make someone as happy as I am.” He turned away. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” Conor’s chest was tight with emotion. He went to bed, where he lay awake until dawn, waiting for Eli to come to him. Finally, he fell asleep.

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Chapter 21 HE

WAS awakened by movement in the room. Eli stood above him, putting a mug down on the bedside table. “I brought you some coffee. It’s late.” Conor blinked, sleep refusing to give up its hold on him. Exhaustion and regret held him down. “I’m not ashamed of us,” he said in a whisper. “That’s not how it seems.” Eli remained standing. “I’m not. Come here.” He reached for Eli’s hand and pulled him down. “I’m sorry.” Eli was silent. He looked down at Conor’s hand, tracing the lines on his palm with one finger. “I made you suffer terribly, and I’m doing it again.” Eli shook his head. He tried to smile. “That was my own fault. I didn’t try hard enough.” “Come on,” Conor argued. “Even when you were there for the taking, I chose Liam.” “It doesn’t matter.” “It matters. I hurt you so much, and somehow I have to make that up to you.” Eli leaned forward. He let his forehead and nose rest against Conor’s. “You’re here. That’s enough.” Conor rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Selfloathing twisted his guts. “I’m guessing you had it harder than me, though,” Eli said. “I bet your mother wasn’t around the way mine was.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 135 “I told her to get out on the night you left. She called me a while after that. Spouted some homophobic shit and then told me she thought you were a nice guy.” Conor laughed mirthlessly. “I’m sorry.” Eli’s fingers entwined tightly with his. “You should make up with her.” Conor turned his head to stare at his lover. “Are you serious?” “Yes.” “I don’t know how you can say that. In case you hadn’t realized it yet, my family isn’t like yours. My mother thinks I’m going to hell. My father hasn’t spoken to me in seven years. We don’t have cozy Christmases where I take my latest beau home.” Conor couldn’t help the bitter, scathing tone in his voice. “You’ve had it hard.” Eli’s voice was low. “Yes. I fell hard for Liam, and Liam cost me my family. I lost Aidan. I have no one now but you. And I’m jealous of you, and I hate myself for it, but I am. You have the perfect life in the perfect place with a family who will fawn over any bloke you take home. You have the word doctor before your name. Me, I have nothing but my job and my cat, and I ask myself what exactly you could want from this ignorant Paddy copper.” Conor was crying, fists clenched in shame. “Oh, Conor.” Eli pulled back the covers, climbing into the bed fully dressed to hold Conor hard in his arms. Conor clutched at him. Their mouths met hesitantly, then deeply. Conor tasted his own tears. He pushed Eli face down, wrenching down only necessary clothes before Eli raised his bottom wantonly a few inches from the bed, and Conor penetrated him. They came together with grunts and moans, and then Eli held Conor until he slept once more.

ELI

watched Conor sleep for a long while before finally slipping silently from the bed. He dressed and took Conor’s cold coffee into the kitchen, and then he lay on the couch, looking idly through

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 136 the trees at the ocean and wishing he was in it, where all his cares would melt away as he watched the tranquil, beautiful creatures beneath the water. There was still so much hurt between them. Eli was scared he was never going to be able to change that. Conor was bitter and insecure, afraid and needy. Eli loved him so much, but he was terrified Conor would go away as quickly as he had arrived. Right now, this was too good to be true. Right now, there seemed too many obstacles to surmount, not least getting Conor to America. Could Conor really not see what Eli wanted in him? God, he was the most beautiful person inside and out that Eli had ever met. He completed Eli like he’d been made to fit. But they were perhaps too similar, both too afraid and both still smarting with such hurt. He glanced toward the bedroom. Conor was so tired all the time. He was lethargic, difficult to rouse in the morning (but not difficult to arouse), wanting to sleep so much. Perhaps the jet lag was still a factor. Perhaps Eli placed unnecessary demands on him. Conor stirred in the bedroom. He coughed a couple of times, and then bare feet sounded on the wood floor. “Can I get some coffee?” He looked pale and tired, his hair disheveled. More than that, he looked sheepish. Eli resisted the urge to tell Conor he didn’t have to ask, but Conor always asked. He simply nodded, and his lover went into the kitchen. Conor poured his coffee and took some milk from the fridge. Eli got up and went in. He stood behind Conor, wrapping his arms around his chest. “Tell me it’s okay.” He was aware he sounded desperate, maybe even pathetic. Conor gave a soundless nod. He drank some coffee. Eli touched the back of his neck with his lips. “Tell me you haven’t changed your mind.” Conor gave a sigh. He rested his hand on Eli’s, curling his fingers around it. “I haven’t.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 137 Eli closed his eyes. He kissed Conor’s neck, traced his ear with his lips. “I love you.” “And I love you too. You’re the love of my life. You always will be.” Conor turned around and took a suddenly boneless Eli in his arms. Joy and relief had left him weak and almost numb. He clutched at Conor, burying himself against him. Conor stroked his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t use a condom,” he murmured. “I don’t care about that. There’s been no one else. You’re not at any risk.” “Still, it was reckless and inconsiderate of me. And I’m not a reckless person. At least, I wasn’t until I met you.” Eli lifted his head. He smiled. “Perhaps I like it when you’re reckless. Coming here was the best reckless thing you’ve ever done.” Conor smiled too. His fingertips traced Eli’s cheek.

WHEN

they were lying on the couch, bodies pressed together, Eli spoke up. “Why are you so tired all the time?” “Because you’ve shagged me senseless since I got here,” Conor replied dryly. Eli regarded him. “So you want me to stop waking you up to make love?”

Conor smiled. His hand slipped beneath Eli’s T-shirt and rubbed gently at his hip. “No.” “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” “And you’re sure that’s all it is? Me being demanding?” “You’re not demanding. I like being in demand.” “Do you?” “Yes.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 138 “Conor.” Eli stopped. How to broach the next subject. “About you coming here. I’m sure you already know that being a cop here is going to be impossible to start with. I looked on Santa Monica PD’s website. You have to be applying for citizenship before they consider you.” Conor’s brow furrowed. “Which means what?” “You have to be a permanent resident here for five years first.” Conor closed his eyes, turned his head away. “I know you like being a cop.” “It doesn’t matter,” Conor mumbled. “I’d give it up for you.” “I don’t want you to. I feel bad.” “Don’t.” “I can’t help it.” Eli sighed. He’d done his research in his office at the university a few days ago, and the knowledge of the task ahead and his solution to it had weighed him down ferociously since. He needed to spill this to Conor. “I don’t know what sort of job you can do to get an employer to sponsor your green card; do you? It has to be something we’re short of here.” Conor shrugged. He looked miserable. Eli took a breath and steeled himself. “The only other route here is through family. I think the fastest and easiest way is for you to get married.” Conor’s head whipped around. “What? To you?” Eli’s cheeks heated. “No,” he said with a smile, “much as I’d like that, I’m pretty sure the department of homeland security isn’t talking about same-sex marriages, particularly as they’re only legal in five states. Although I could email them and ask. Joke.” Conor stared. “Then what are you talking about Eli?” He looked utterly perplexed. “That you marry Violet.” Conor sat up. “What?” “You could be here in six months.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 139 Conor climbed off the couch and started to pace the small living room. “You’re absolutely out of your fucking mind, Eli,” he complained. “It’s illegal. If we’re found out, I get deported and she maybe goes to jail.” “We won’t get found out.” “Why are you so sure?” “Because I am. We’ll have a proper story. We need letters from friends and relatives as evidence. Violet’s family will do that. I know them well. They’ll want to help us out, and so will my family.” “And she’s agreed to it?” “Yes.” “Does she want paying?” “No.” “Jesus.” Conor pulled at his hair. “I can’t believe my ears.” “Why don’t you calm down?” “I can’t calm down. It’s illegal, Eli!” “So you keep saying. What’s the alternative? I could move to Canada. We could get married there. Then I could sponsor you to come back as my spouse.” Conor stopped and stared again. “Do you want to live in Canada? Doesn’t that defeat the object of you wanting to stay in California? Hell, we could go anywhere in the world with soft immigration laws. Like the UK for example. I could work there and apply to bring you over as my partner.” “I don’t mind.” Eli kept his tone soft, trying to mollify his increasingly agitated lover. “Canada’s nice. The UK’s nice.” Conor shook his head. He walked back to the couch, sat down, took Eli’s face in his hands. “Do you even want to marry me, Eli, or would you do it just so we can live together?” Eli tried to be glib. This was an uncomfortable topic. “Sure I do. Is that a proposal?” He grinned. Conor scowled. “Don’t even joke about it.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 140 “Who’s joking?” Conor stared into his eyes for a long moment. “So you want to marry me?” Eli bit his lip. “Eventually. If it’s the quickest route, I’ll marry you as soon as possible.” Conor sighed. He let go of Eli and turned his head away. “All this is wrong.” His voice was a murmur. “This should be about us doing what feels right, not rushing into marriage just so we can be together.” Eli lay back on the couch, defeated. “Yeah. Forget it. Let’s go to Plan B. Not that I know what Plan B is.” Conor’s ocean blue eyes were tender when he leaned over Eli, stroking his cheek. “I would say Plan B is for both of us to go back and forward to Ireland and America visiting each other for a while and then take it from there.” Injustice rose up in Eli chokingly. Conor was going back on everything he had said. “But you said…,” he stammered because he couldn’t get the words out quick enough. “You said you’d come for me. That you wanted to live here.” “I do.” “Then you can’t take two years to decide you want to because it’ll be another five years on top of that to get a green card. I can’t wait for you, Conor. I need you.” He put his arms around Conor’s neck, holding him hard. “Don’t do this to me. Marry Violet. Please. I beg you.” Conor’s arms slid around him. He lay down on the couch holding Eli for the longest time without speaking. Finally he said, in the lowest whisper, “Okay.”

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Chapter 22 ELI

took Conor to the university to meet Violet again. They had lunch in the restaurant and talked about their plans. He had already emailed her links to petition online for her spouse to come to America and to apply for a marriage license. They could pick it up the next day at the LAX courthouse for ninety dollars and book the ceremony while they were there. Conor didn’t even have to be a citizen of the United States. No wonder green card marriages were so rife. It was Monday, and Conor left on Friday. Eli was sure they could get a date by Thursday. He squeezed Conor’s knee and told him with a grin he could marry Violet in Las Vegas dressed as Elvis if he liked. Conor didn’t look amused. He was quiet and withdrawn and had hardly spoken a word on the subject since he had agreed the day before. Eli sensed trouble. He laid his hand on top of Conor’s beneath the table. Conor didn’t hold it in return; he merely stared down into his Diet Coke. Violet looked at Eli questioningly. Eli shrugged. “Have you got a ring for the ceremony?” he asked Violet. “Or should I buy you one?” “I’ve got one,” she replied. “Have you?” She addressed Conor. Conor shook his head. “We’ll get you one,” Eli said. Conor excused himself to use the bathroom. “He doesn’t want to do it,” Violet said immediately. “He does. He’s Irish Catholic for God’s sake, he believes marriage is sacred, not a sham or a means to an end. He’ll get over it when he’s here with me and he can divorce you.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 142 “I think you’re forcing him into this, Eli.” This wasn’t what Eli wanted to hear, mainly because he had a sneaking suspicion Violet was right. “He agreed,” was his final word on the subject.

VIOLET

and Conor picked up the marriage license early the next day while Eli loitered in the background. They reserved a ceremony at the courthouse for Thursday at three p.m. “I know someone your size who can lend you a suit for the day,” Eli said as he drove them back to his apartment. “Saves you having to buy one.” “Fine.” Conor looked out of the window.

LUNCH was silent and strained. Conor sat on the couch watching TV afterward while Eli looked to bring up yet another difficult subject. He sat down beside his lover. “So. My mother called. I told her you were here. She wants you to come over for dinner. Tomorrow.” Conor tensed. “Oh, Eli, I don’t know…. I’m not sure if I’m ready….” Eli pouted prettily and calculatedly. “It’s my birthday.” Conor glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “You didn’t ask.” Conor looked at him a moment then pushed him backward, clambering on top of him, fingers digging into his ribs. “Don’t be smart with me, Yank. How am I supposed to get you a present by tomorrow?” Eli gasped for breath, laughing. “I don’t want a present. Paddy.” “You’ll get a present by hook or by crook.” Conor sat back on his heels. He gave a sigh as though steeling himself. “Fine, I’ll come to your parents’, but only because it’s your birthday.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 143 Eli grinned triumphantly. “My mom makes great birthday cake.” “Aren’t you a bit old for that?” Conor teased. “Bet I’m not as old as you, old man,” Eli shot back. “How old are you?” “Thirty-six tomorrow.” “Okay fine you’re not.” “You’re what? Forty-two, forty-three?” Eli smirked and was rewarded by being pinned back to the couch and kissed breathless. “You’re a cheeky little bastard,” Conor growled when he let him up for air. “I’m thirty-seven.” “Less of the little,” Eli replied, pressing his pelvis up. “Okay fine.” Conor reached boldly into his groin. “I take that back. Whatever you are, you’re not little.” Eli smiled against his mouth. Maybe they were still okay after all.

CONOR

was gripped by anxiety about both the marriage and the forthcoming dinner. Had he really agreed to marry a strange American woman he had not the slightest interest in on Thursday? He told himself it was a formality. It would be half an hour at the most and then he could go back to Ireland secure in the knowledge that the green card papers would begin to be processed and he would be welcomed back with open arms by both Eli and his country. And what about the inevitable interviews and making it look like he was living with Violet? Christ, he would have to begin correspondence with her when he went back to Ireland, find out everything about her for when the time came. And he would be jobless when he came here, giving up his fine career and nice house at home. And what about Cinnamon? He was important to Conor. He would have to come too.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 144 Then there was the dinner. He remembered the sweet fantasy Eli had described to him about Conor meeting his parents. But he would be meeting them as an out man, and he wasn’t out to anyone except Eli. Was he even out to himself? And what the hell was he supposed to get Eli for his birthday? Eli went off to the university later that afternoon after sternly telling Conor not to run about all over town looking for a present. Conor ignored him and ran about all over town looking for a present. He settled on an arty book of animal photography and an expensive box of chocolates. But he was unhappy with his purchases and wandered around the mall looking for something else. He stopped in front of a jeweler’s window. He remembered he needed a ring for his wedding and looked at some cheap silver ones in the display before he went into the shop. He wandered around, before his eyes fell on the mens’ white gold and platinum bands. Could he buy Eli one for his birthday? Perhaps not, they were wedding bands, really. Eli might get the wrong idea. They could hardly become engaged anyway, not when they couldn’t even get married in California and Conor would be married to someone else. He asked to see one of the silver bands, tried it on his wedding ring finger, and bought it. Then, about to leave the shop, he asked to see one of the platinum rings set with three small diamonds. He tried one on his own little finger. He hesitated, debated back and forward with himself, and finally bought it. It would be interesting to know what the shop assistant thought of his transaction, buying a cheap band for himself and a very expensive band for another man. She asked him if he would like either of the rings engraved. He nodded, told her he would like the platinum band engraved. At her prompting, he wrote down the words on a piece of paper.

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Chapter 23 CONOR

lay awake most of the night fretting over meeting Eli’s family the next day and his marriage the day after. He had shown Eli the silver band, and Eli had kissed him and thanked him for buying it. Conor hadn’t missed the look of relief on his lover’s face. Eli thought Conor was going to get cold feet. Eli was right. Eli lay softly breathing beside him, moonlight falling on his serene face through a chink in the curtains. Finally, as dawn started to break, Conor slid beneath the covers and pressed soft kisses to Eli’s belly. Eli stirred, gave a muted groan. His fingers tangled in Conor’s hair. He thickened in Conor’s mouth effortlessly and shifted on the sheets, spreading his legs. Conor sucked him to completion, swallowed him down, left Eli gasping in pleasure. “Happy birthday.” Eli laughed endearingly. “God, I wish every birthday started this way.” “It will from now on.” Conor rested his chin on Eli’s thigh. “It’ll end this way, too, if you like.” Eli lifted the covers up to look down at him, a sweet smile on his flushed face. “You sure know how to treat a man, Conor.” Conor smoothed a hand over Eli’s ribs. “I’m still trying to make it up to you.” “Hush,” Eli scolded immediately. Conor slid up and lay silently with his face against Eli’s chest until Eli asked in a whisper, “What’s wrong?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 146 “Nothing.” “Come on. Is it meeting my parents?” Conor nodded. “You don’t have to sweat it, man, seriously.” “I do have to sweat it, because your mum saw what you were like when you came home from Ireland, didn’t she? She knows what I did to you, how I hurt you. And I wouldn’t blame her for disliking me on sight.” Eli clicked his tongue. He gripped Conor under the arms and pulled him up his body. “Listen to me. You can get this shit out of your head right now. My mom told me you would come for me, and she was right. After everything I told her about you, she knew you loved me and that you didn’t mean to hurt me. You were just trying to find your way in life.” Conor dropped his face against Eli’s neck. “You’re a wonderful person, and I don’t deserve you. When I first saw you on that beach about to cut up the whale, which had fought for life for days, the whale I had failed to save, I hated your fucking guts. I felt betrayed on behalf of the whale. I felt murderous and possessive, and I didn’t know how you fucking dared. And then, Jesus….” Conor shuddered in memory. “That night in the pub when you offered to buy me a drink. And you smiled at me, and God, that was me, gone, for the rest of my life….” Eli stopped him with a fierce kiss, arms wrapped around him. They rolled across the bed, entangled, desperate with passion, came to a breathless halt with Eli on top. “Let me return the favor.” Conor stopped him before he could slide down. “No. It’s your birthday. You don’t give blowjobs on your birthday.” “Let me tell you something, Conor—I like it. I get off having you in my mouth, so I assure you it’s no hardship. Far from it.” Conor shook his head. “I said no. The only person getting a blowjob today is you. Now why don’t you close your eyes while I get out your presents.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 147 Eli slid off him. He squirmed in excitement like a hyperactive child as Conor got out of bed and retrieved the bag hidden at the back of the wardrobe. Inside it, the book and the chocolates were wrapped in shiny paper, while Conor put the black velvet box under his pillow for last. “Here.” He crawled back beneath the covers. Eli sat up, grinning, reaching into the bag and taking the two presents out. “You shouldn’t have,” he said in that mock-scolding tone people always used when they were delighted to receive a present from someone. “Shut up and open.” Eli opened the chocolates. “My favorite. But you’ll have to help me burn them off later.” “No problem at all.” Eli pecked him on the lips. He tore the paper off the book. “Oh wow,” he said, handling the book almost reverently, turning it to the front page, where Conor had inscribed the words, To Eli on your 36th Birthday, with love, Conor. Smiling, Eli flicked through the book, lingering on some photos, exclaiming over others. “This is amazing,” he said. “Just perfect. Thank you so much, Conor.” He put the book down and his arms around Conor’s neck. He would be happy with just these two things, Conor thought briefly. I don’t even have to give him the ring. I could save myself all the anxiety of whether he’s going to think this is a marriage proposal. He held Eli close to him even as his hand reached under the pillow, and he took a deep breath, trying to make his decision. Even though the ring had sat in the back of the wardrobe all night, Conor still hadn’t decided if he would be okay with Eli thinking the piece of platinum was a marriage proposal or not. He cursed himself and didn’t understand why the decision was so hard when he knew by now what was in his own heart. No, they couldn’t get married in California, but they could get married elsewhere, and Eli could wear the ring as a token of Conor’s love until one day they were ready. Where was the harm?

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 148 He slid out the box and held it out to Eli, and still he didn’t know. But he saw by the instant expression on Eli’s face that his lover thought he did. Eli stared, grew pale, his eyes wide, his rosebud lips opening and closing soundlessly. He glanced from the box up to Conor’s eyes, searching, as though to make sure and Conor was overwhelmed and anxious. He opened the box with trembling hands, and then he did the decent thing, seeing as Eli was presuming, and slid from the bed to the floor, going down on one knee. Eli’s honey eyes widened further and brimmed with tears. “Whichever finger this fits, you can wear it on there,” Conor began, stumbling over his words, the box trembling in his hands. “If it fitted your left hand and you wanted to… consider yourself engaged to me, I would be very honored. I know it’s not practical when I’m going to be married myself tomorrow, but you could wear it until such time that we could….” He stopped. He couldn’t believe anyone in the history of the world had ever made such a cack-handed marriage proposal in their lives. It wasn’t even a proposal. It was a suggestion, and it was something which was all left up to Eli. He hated himself. He let his burning face drop to the bed and hid it. He felt pressure on the box in his hand. Eli was removing the ring, no doubt reading the inscription on its inner side which read, Eli and Conor. Then a hand touched his hair, stroking gently. Conor lifted his head. “What do you think?” Eli asked, showing him his left hand, the ring firmly in place on his third finger. “It’s a little tight. That means I’ll never be able to get it off.” He grinned. Conor smiled. He tried to speak but couldn’t. Instead, he crawled back onto the bed and into Eli’s arms.

CONOR

stood nervously outside the door of the large house with Eli, who firmly held his damp hand. Conor wore his best shirt and

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 149 pants, the clothes he’d almost not brought with him because he’d imagined this trip to Eli would result in him being sent straight back to Ireland again with his ears ringing. The door opened, and an attractive blonde woman wearing an apron smiled at them. “Darling,” she greeted Eli as he stepped in, hugging her. Over his shoulder she perused Conor. “You’ve outdone yourself this time,” she said teasingly to her son. “I know,” Eli replied as he pulled a blushing Conor into the house. Eli’s mother kissed him on both cheeks. “I’m Eleanor,” she said. “It’s lovely to meet you finally.” “You too,” Conor mumbled, all social graces forgotten in sudden, crippling shyness. At that moment, he wanted to be anywhere but here. He looked into the blue eyes of Eli’s mother and tried to see any hint of disapproval at how Conor had made Eli work for this, but there was none. She turned away and Eli followed, dragging Conor behind him. Eleanor led them into the kitchen, where she took a bottle of wine from the fridge and got two glasses out of a cabinet. “Is white wine all right, Conor?” she asked. “Or would you prefer beer or hard liquor?” She grinned at him. Hard liquor might have gotten him through this, but Conor nodded politely and said that wine was fine. Eleanor handed him and Eli each a glass and picked up her own from the table. “To my son’s new man,” she said. “Long may it last.” Conor swallowed, blushing again, catching Eli’s eye as they clinked glasses. Eli’s glance was all reassurance and happiness. His hand stroked the small of Conor’s back gently. Conor waited for Eli’s mother to mention his forthcoming marriage to her son’s friend. Or maybe Eli was going to do the cowardly thing and reveal the deception after it had already happened. “Now then,” Eleanor said, “I have to get on with the food. Eli, take Conor to meet your dad and Noah.” Eli nodded. He gestured to Conor to follow him, and Conor did so, stomach raveling into ever tighter knots. For some reason, the thought of meeting Eli’s father was much worse than meeting

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 150 his mother. Conor was the man who made love to Mr. Sanders’ son in ways which were still considered wrong by a large section of the world, his own parents included. Eli stopped in the hallway so that Conor almost ran into him. “Are you okay?” he asked. Conor nodded. “No, you’re not. You’re terrified. I’ve told you there’s nothing to be afraid of, Conor.” “I know that,” Conor mumbled, eyes downcast. Eli’s fingers touched his cheek. “Come on, it’s going to be fine.” Conor took his hand. He pressed his lips to the palm. “Let’s go.” Eli led the way again through a large, bright living room and beyond into a sun-filled conservatory. There, reclining on a couch with a bottle of beer, was a gray-haired man of about sixty-five. He glanced up as he saw Eli, a smile crossing his face. Conor stepped hesitantly forward as Eli left him to embrace his father. “Hi, Dad.” “Good to see you, son.” His father gave him a firm hug. “And this must be Conor.” At least he didn’t call me his son’s new man. Conor moved forward on unsteady legs, holding out his hand. “Mr. Sanders,” he said politely. “David,” Eli’s father corrected him. Conor nodded, holding the eye contact. Eli’s father’s glance was speculative, intrigued, just on the polite side of friendly. His welcome was definitely cooler than Eli’s mother’s, and Conor’s heart sank in disappointment. Here was someone to be won over. A tall, dark-haired man with more than a passing resemblance to Eli stood from the other couch and hugged Eli before turning his attention on Conor. “Hey man,” he addressed him. “Noah.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 151 “Conor.” Conor shook his hand, finding the dark eyes of Eli’s brother more open and friendly than his father’s. “This is my wife, Georgia.” An attractive blonde-haired lady stood and shook his hand, before kissing him on the cheek. “Hello, Conor.” “Nice to meet you, Georgia.” Conor’s face was beginning to ache from the polite smiling. “And this is Stephen. Stephen, say hello to Uncle Eli’s friend.” Eli had already got down on his knees to greet a child playing on the floor with building bricks. The little boy looked up at Conor. “Hello, Uncle Eli’s friend,” the child said solemnly before going back to his game. He didn’t call me Uncle Eli’s special friend, Conor noted. “So,” Noah said as Eli steered Conor to the couch and sat next to him, thigh pressing close to his. “Whereabouts in Ireland are you from, Conor?” “County Galway,” Conor said. “Ireland’s gorgeous,” Georgia piped up. “We went all over it when I was younger, visiting relatives. I remember that rope bridge at Antrim. That’s something else isn’t it?” “Yes.” Conor smiled. “What rope bridge?” Eli asked him, putting a hand on Conor’s knee. Conor tensed. He glanced at the child busily playing with his bricks. “It’s a rope bridge over the water between the mainland and Carrick Island.” “Have you been over it?” “Yeah, when I was little.” “Were you scared? I would have been.” “Terrified.” Eli grinned. He squeezed Conor’s knee. “I want you to take me there.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 152 “Sure,” Conor said. “But you won’t get me going over it again.” Eli’s father cleared his throat just as Eli leaned forward to rub his nose against Conor’s affectionately. Conor sat back quickly. “So you’re a police officer, Conor?” “Told you it wouldn’t take long,” Eli whispered loudly into Conor’s ear. And then to his father, “Dad, don’t cross-examine him about his job all afternoon.” David pulled an innocent face. “Cross-examine? You make me sound like the father in Meet the Parents.” An involuntary shudder went through Conor because yes, that was what he had been reminded of when Eli’s father had studied him as they shook hands. Oh God, please no. “If the cap fits, Dad,” Eli retorted. David shook his head. “Just wanted to ask a member of the Garda a few questions, that’s all.” “That can wait, David,” Eleanor said a little warningly from the door. “I need some help in the kitchen.” David rolled his eyes. “You’ll keep,” he said with a smile at Conor which made him even more uneasy. “Come on.” Eli got to his feet. “I’ll show you around the garden.” The back garden was huge, filled with fruit trees and flowers. A narrow path led through the foliage to an enclosed area. “My dad’s only teasing, you know,” Eli said as they walked. “He likes to wind me up by winding up my boyfriends.” Conor was silent. He didn’t like hearing the word ‘boyfriends’ or imaging the other men Eli brought home. “You should stop touching me,” he said finally. “Your dad saw. He doesn’t like it.” “Oh come on.” Eli sounded irritated. He stopped, looking earnestly into Conor’s face. “Not this again with the fucking touching. Am I only allowed to touch you behind locked fucking doors regardless of who knows about us?”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 153 Conor regarded him. “Are we going to fight at your parents’ house, Eli?” He made his voice soft and conciliatory because he was regretful now. Eli’s hard expression crumbled into softness. “No,” he said. “Come here.” He took Conor’s hand, pulling him after him down the path. At the bottom of the garden stood a summer house, and Eli waited until Conor sat down on the wooden bench inside before he placed himself on his knee, curling an arm around his neck. “Listen to me. You’re stressed out. I understand that. But my family aren’t the enemy and they haven’t got it in for you even though you think they have. They also don’t care whether we touch each other, and they might think you’re the recently converted straight boy you are if they see you flinching at every touch.” “Don’t call me that.” Conor tried to push Eli from his lap, but Eli wound his arms around his neck, holding tight. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” “That’s not nice, Eli.” Conor turned his head away, trying to calm himself. He shouldn’t have come today. It was all too soon. This was all too soon. Christ, tomorrow he was going to get married. Commit an illegal act in order to be with the man he loved. What was he thinking? Had he lost his mind? Eli grasped Conor’s face in both hands and pulled it around to look into his eyes. His dark eyes moistened perceptibly, and Conor realized with a shock that Eli had read his mind. Jesus, he knows every thought in my head. “No,” Eli said in whisper. “I thought you were sure about us, Conor. You bought me a ring.” “I am,” Conor said instantly, hands holding Eli by the hips. Misery crushed him. He was sure of his love for Eli, but this wasn’t the way. Eli had forced him into this, and Conor had agreed to make him happy. He couldn’t marry a stranger, not even for Eli. “But—”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 154 “Let’s not do this now.” Conor interrupted him. “When we get home.” Eli drew himself abruptly off his lap. “You’re supposed to be getting married to Violet tomorrow,” he almost shouted. “When exactly were you going to tell me you’re not planning on going through with it? Where does that leave us? You’re going home on Friday. What do we do then? Is that it? Are we done when you leave?” Conor shook his head. What had happened? What was wrong with him? “No.” Eli stalked to the entrance to the summer house and back. “If I’d thought you’d come here to play with me, that you’d go back on your promises—” “I haven’t gone back on anything,” Conor said, standing. “I’m not playing with you, Eli. I love you. That isn’t even in question.” “But?” “Not here. Later.” “No, now! You think I can go and eat dinner with my parents now? In fact, fuck this, I’ll tell them we’re going home.” “Jesus, Eli. Calm down.” All this was slipping away from Conor. Eli was uncontrollable. “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down. Just tell me you don’t want to be with me, that’s all I want you to do. I thought you wanted to marry me!” Conor sighed. “I do want to be with you. And I do want to marry you. Just not yet. I can’t marry Violet. It’s not right, and you know it.” “No, I don’t. I want you here with me now, no matter what it takes. For the rest of our lives. Why isn’t that enough for you? Why don’t you have any faith in me?” Eli’s eyes brimmed with tears, and Conor’s heart sank lower and lower. He sat back down on the bench. “Don’t say that. It’s not true. I do have faith in you, Eli.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 155 “No, you don’t. It’s still Liam between us and what he did to you, and you think I’m going to do the same, when Jesus Christ, I’ve been in love with you since the first moment I saw you on the beach. Sometimes it feels like I loved you before I even met you.” Conor’s jaw started to ache. He felt his eyes burn uncontrollably. Eli always knew exactly what to say. He hung his head. “Let’s go and eat dinner. We can’t go home when your mother’s gone to all this trouble.” “Whatever.” Eli turned and stalked away, leaving Conor sitting alone in the summer house.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 156

Chapter 24 CONOR

sat there a while. Let Eli explain to his family why he’d left his boyfriend out in the garden. He lifted his head at footsteps on the wooden planks, hopeful that Eli had come back. It was Georgia, Eli’s sister-in-law. “Hey,” she said softly, her pretty face sympathetic. “Eli’s inside getting drunk.” Conor hung his head. “I should go home,” he muttered. Georgia sat down next to him. “I don’t want you to go home. I’ve been dying to meet you.” Conor glanced at her in surprise. “Eli tells me a lot,” she explained. “More than he tells Noah. And when he first met you, he came back home and spouted all sorts of flowery stuff at me about how he felt.” She smiled, and Conor’s face heated. He averted his gaze. “You must know what a romantic he is. He used some pretty heavy terms about you, things like soulmate and you being the one and all that. And even though you didn’t want to be with him, I was sure he would see you again.” The only thing Conor was sure of was that he was going to cry. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with him.” His voice was barely audible. “I know that. I kind of got the measure of you from everything he told me.” “And what measure did you get?” Conor looked her in the eye. “That I’m a coward who never knew what was good for him?” Georgia touched his hand. “Why would I think you’re a coward? You’re here now, aren’t you? This took some balls. Considering your family and all.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 157 Conor didn’t speak. The deep ache in his chest wouldn’t let him. “I don’t think your love for Eli is in question, is it? I noticed the ring as soon as he arrived.” Conor shook his head. “I just… this was too much.” “You’re afraid.” “I wish I had his confidence.” “His confidence will rub off on you.” “Maybe.” “He says you don’t like to be touched in public. That’s how the fight started.” “I didn’t want to argue with him. I just worry what his dad’ll think when he touches me.” “His dad doesn’t care. Eli’s been out for sixteen years. David’s seen Eli touch men in front of him before. He expects it; you’re a couple. It’d be weird if you sat there all day keeping your hands off each other. He’d smell a rat then, because that’s not normal.” “No,” Conor agreed quietly. He sighed, leaning back and looking at the ceiling of the summer house, noting cobwebs and an abandoned bird’s nest. “He thinks that I’m ashamed of what we are. I’m just trying to deal with the fact that I’m with a man for only the second time in my life. A man that I somehow asked to marry me this morning. Kind of by accident.” “You don’t have to marry him to prove anything, Conor. Forget about that and concentrate on what you’re going to do.” Conor glanced at her. “You know I was supposed to marry one of Eli’s friends tomorrow, don’t you? For a green card.” The shock on Georgia’s face told him that no, Eli hadn’t spilled that particular gem of information to anyone yet. “And now?” “I need to go back to Ireland for a while and think.” “Is it over?” “No.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 158 “You hesitated, then.” “I’m not sure I’m ready to give up everything just yet. I thought I was, but….” Wasn’t that the crux of the matter? His steady, safe little life in Ireland, his job, his position of authority in the community. The quietness and tranquility of Kinroe. Why change that for baking hot sun he wasn’t even comfortable in and the chance to be shot in a drive-by shooting? “Well, Eli could come stay with you again in a few months. Why don’t you suggest that to him?” “Because he’ll turn me down. He wants all or nothing this time, not me hedging my bets and possibly rejecting him when I finally make up my mind. And I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t settle for it either.” “You don’t know until you try. He’ll take what he can get, I’m sure.” “He has more pride than that.” Georgia sighed. She squeezed Conor’s hand. “I’m sorry for you both. But I’ve got faith you’ll be together eventually.” “Eli told me I had no faith in him at all.” “He says things he doesn’t mean in the heat of the moment, you know that. He’s impulsive, and he gets carried away.” “No, he was probably right. I can’t put all my trust in him that everything will be all right. That he won’t let me down.” “Your fears are normal. You’d be moving across the world away from everything you know. He knows that, even if he’s been impatient with you.” There was silence. “Let’s go back inside,” Georgia said softly. Conor got up reluctantly. He imagined the atmosphere would be terrible once he got back inside, Eli’s family whispering about the fight, Eli giving him the cold shoulder all the way through dinner. How was he going to face this? He walked silently by Georgia’s side back to the conservatory. On one couch was Eli, nursing a glass of wine, on the other was Noah. To Conor’s relief, there was no sign of Eli’s father. Steeling himself, he sat beside Eli, not speaking.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 159 Eli was still a moment and then he leaned across and let his head fall gently against Conor’s shoulder, face hidden. This was more than enough. Conor glanced at Noah, who got up, steering Georgia and Stephen out of the room. He lifted a hand to hold Eli’s head. He pressed his lips to Eli’s thick hair. “I love you,” he whispered. “No matter what.” Eli sat up, reached behind him to put his glass down, then took Conor’s face in both hands and kissed him. Conor responded, forcing any thoughts of spectators from his mind. It was a kiss, nothing more, something Eli’s family should expect. He held Eli in his arms and kissed him tenderly, and Eli’s mouth was that perfect, achingly sweet rosebud beneath his that he remembered from their first kiss all those months ago. When Eli had had the courage to take what he wanted while Conor denied his feelings. Eli pulled back, dark-flecked honey eyes bright. “I’ll do whatever you want to do,” he said in a low voice. “As long as this isn’t the end.” Georgia had been right about Eli settling for what he could get, and guilt consumed Conor. He shook his head. “It’s not.” His hand stroked the curve of Eli’s cheek and jaw. “I promise.” “Go back to Ireland and let me know when you want me to come visit,” Eli said. “Or if you want to come back here.” Conor felt even worse. To leave Eli hanging like this again, waiting, just like he’d waited for two months for Conor to get his act together and come looking for him. It was so unfair to treat him this way. “No,” he said, “we’ll arrange a date when you’re going to come to Ireland before I leave. Perhaps winter, so you can keep me warm on cold nights.” Eli managed to smile. He rubbed at his eyes roughly before tears could fall. “Okay. I love you.” Conor’s hand smoothed over Eli’s hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.” Even though I can’t take my luck when it’s handed to me on a plate.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 160 Eli shook his head. “Not really. I’m an asshole when you get to know me.” He gave a whimsical smirk, and Conor pulled him into his arms fiercely. “That’s not true.” “Whatever.” “Yeah, whatever.” “Okay, lovebirds, dinner’s served.” It was Eli’s father, standing at the door, and Conor drew back quickly, blushing. David didn’t seem fazed, though. If anything, there was a slight smile on his face. Eli got up and pulled Conor to his feet, leading the way.

THEY

sat down next to each other in the dining room, Eli’s parents at each end of the table and Noah and Georgia on the other side, Stephen between them on a cushion. Eli was a vegetarian. Conor had discovered this when he’d suddenly been forced into a meat-free diet for the last two weeks. Although he didn’t mind, because Eli was a great cook. He now also found Georgia and Eleanor were too, Eleanor dishing up separate meals for them while the other men got a roast dinner. It was delicious, but Conor didn’t really taste it. He was concentrating too much on answering polite questions and not pulling away from the hand on his knee that stroked in a comforting rather than a sexual way. He had to admire Eli’s balls once again. Told off twice now by Conor for touching in public and still a hand found its way onto his knee. He actually smiled to himself; then he glanced at Eli and caught his smile, too, like once more, his lover knew his mind better than Conor knew his own. His heart suffered a twinge. He could never give this up, not ever. His love for Eli was forever. He moved his hand to close over Eli’s, entwining their fingers, and looked once again at his lover. Eli smiled again, eyes radiant, dimples around his adorable mouth. It was all Conor could do not to kiss him right there.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 161 “Attention please,” David said loudly. Plates had been cleared, and Eleanor appeared from the kitchen carrying a large chocolate cake on which was a mountain of blazing candles. “Please sing for the birthday boy.” Eli grinned bashfully as David led the chorus. Conor joined in, squeezing Eli’s hand. Eleanor put the cake down before him, and as the singing finished, Eli closed his eyes tightly and then blew out all his candles in three attempts. Conor had an idea what Eli might have wished for. His family applauded his extinguishing of the candles, and then Eli leaned over and kissed Conor full on the mouth. Someone whistled. Conor froze to his chair in shock as Eli didn’t stop at a peck but gave him a full-on smooch. “All right, get a room,” Noah drawled. Eli drew back, eyes gleaming wickedly. Eleanor reached over him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “I’ll cut the cake up.” Conor cast a glance at David. He looked amused, a small smile playing around his lips. “How are you at chess, Conor?” he asked. “I’m okay,” Conor said nervously. “Well if my son can unglue himself from your face long enough, perhaps you’ll play me after coffee?” Eli rolled his eyes.

ELI was

drunk by the end of dinner, that much was obvious, but still accepted an amaretto liqueur with his coffee. Conor was getting there, too, trying to pace himself, but his wine was filled up at regular intervals, and he didn’t have the willpower to refuse. He kind of wanted to get drunk even though that crime at the first ever meeting of his in-laws was a particularly heinous one. He was sure he could stop at tipsy, though. What he had realized by the end of dinner and being thrashed at chess was that Eli’s family was as great as Eli had

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 162 suggested. David wasn’t the interrogating father making sure his son was going to be looked after at all. At least, he didn’t get the chance when Eleanor threw him a look when he asked Conor more than three questions in a row. This could be his new family, to replace what Conor had lost by falling in love with Liam. Was it enough? Eleanor certainly seemed like a warmer, more affectionate mother than Conor had ever known before. Noah was friendly, interested, with the same sparkling personality as Eli. Conor had missed out on a constant companion during his youth, being an only child, and had often wished his parents would have another baby. And David, well it was a start that he actually spoke to Conor, unlike Conor’s own father. He obviously didn’t find what Eli did with Conor abhorrent, unless he was a very good actor. As for Georgia, she was wise and a good friend to Eli, and she smiled at Conor across the living room as they all took seats and Eli cuddled up as close as he could get. Soft music played and everyone was relaxed, Stephen put to bed. Eli was almost asleep against Conor’s shoulder when Conor touched his head and whispered, “Shall we get going?” Eli looked up, pupils dilated. He nodded and squeezed Conor’s knee, and this time it was all sexual, and Conor felt the jolt in his groin and the shiver of anticipation down his spine. Time was fast running out. They had to make this count. Eli got to his feet unsteadily and Conor followed. Hugs and kisses were exchanged, a firm handshake from David, and an almost approving nod. “Hope to see you again, Conor,” he said. “You, too,” Conor replied. Despite the fact the wedding was off and with it, any hope of Conor entering America to live, he nonetheless felt calm and more at peace than he had for a few days.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 163

Chapter 25 “I

WANT you so much it hurts,” Eli said loudly in Conor’s ear the moment the taxi set off from his parents’ house, tongue licking at the lobe. “Just try to… calm yourself,” Conor said helplessly, glancing at the driver as Eli’s hand rubbed between his legs firmly, coaxing him easily to erection. “I can’t. I need you.” “I know you do, just….” Conor clamped his mouth shut to stifle a groan. Eli’s fingers through his clothes set him on fire effortlessly. “You promised me a blowjob to close my birthday as well as open it.” “I know I did. And you can have it.” “Give it to me now.” “No way!” Eli huffed. He buried his face in Conor’s neck, kissing greedily. “Stop.” “Bet I can make you come before we get home.” “I’d rather you didn’t. I’ve had a drink. Who says I can get it up a second time?” The idea of being illicitly rubbed to climax in the back of a taxi was shockingly arousing, but Conor tried to be nonchalant. “Oh please,” Eli said scornfully. “You go on all the time about not being able to keep up with me. You’ve never not had a hard-on

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 164 ready when I’ve wanted one.” His teeth flashed white in the gloom. “Now shut up and kiss me.” Conor pecked his mouth briefly. “Now behave or you’re getting nothing when we get home.” Eli sat back in his seat sullenly. But a sly hand continued to caress between Conor’s legs.

ELI turned his head to kiss Conor while he fumbled at the lock to his apartment with a clumsy hand. He pushed the door open, pulling Conor inside, an arm around his neck. Conor kicked the door shut and gave full vent to his passion. They kissed desperately in the hallway, Eli stumbling drunkenly back against the wall, hands unfastening his pants as quickly as he could. A hand bore down firmly on Conor’s shoulder. “On your knees,” Eli breathed in a cloud of wine. “You promised.” Conor smiled. He sank willingly down and took Eli’s cock in one hand before he opened his mouth and sucked Eli inside. Eli groaned, head back and eyes closed, his hand insistent in Conor’s hair. Conor sucked steadily, drawing back to flick his tongue teasingly over the head of Eli’s shaft and drag it down the sides. Eli’s thighs trembled. He braced himself with one hand on Conor’s shoulder as though too drunk to stand. After a few minutes, during which he got louder and louder, Eli pushed him back. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” he said. “I want you in my mouth too.” Conor followed him swiftly. The excitement in his veins was as familiar as it always was, and yet every time with Eli was different, never got old. He never tired of that ecstasy that throbbed through him. He stripped almost frantically with Eli. Eli was first on the bed, lying on his side, and Conor crawled towards his feet, curling himself into Eli’s body and taking him once more in his mouth. Wet heat enveloped his cock in turn, and Conor groaned around Eli’s erection.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 165 Eli moved from cock to balls, tonguing, sucking lightly, and Conor did the same. Eli writhed under his caresses, stomach muscles clenching, pushing himself into Conor’s mouth. Conor held him by his tight little buttocks, pulling Eli into him, taking as much of his cock down as he could, letting Eli fuck his mouth. After all, it was his birthday. Eli shuddered hard and swore. His face dropped against Conor’s thigh, his tongue half-heartedly licking as he came, filling Conor’s mouth full. Conor swallowed dutifully, holding Eli to him until Eli’s hips had finished bucking and he fell back with a loud sigh of pleasure. Conor drew a hand along Eli’s side and smiled at a job well done, hoping the suddenly catatonic Eli wouldn’t fall asleep. But no, Eli wasn’t done. He rolled away, reaching to the bedside drawer and tossing lube and a condom at Conor. He threw himself on his back, knees open. “Fuck me,” he told Conor. “Don’t you want to wait?” Conor asked out of politeness, seeing as Eli was now almost limp in the afterglow. “Don’t worry,” his lover responded. “I’ll be hard again as soon as I have your dick in me.” Conor didn’t doubt this was true. He put the condom on and smoothed some lube over it before he rubbed a wet finger over Eli’s entrance. He leaned over Eli, settling himself on his elbows. Eli put one arm around his back, the other guiding Conor’s cock between his legs. They kissed as Conor slid inside, slowly, firmly, all the way to the hilt. Eli gasped, rocking himself greedily, throwing head and arms back, gripping onto the headboard. “Please…” he moaned. Conor thrust into him, measuring his pace, taking it easy, looking down at his lover’s beautiful face. He reached down between their bodies, finding Eli hard as promised, and took him in his hand. Eli bucked beneath him, wanting more and more of Conor inside him, nails scratching at his back, and Conor was about

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 166 ready to explode within minutes. Eli moved faster against Conor. “Harder,” he insisted. But Conor slowed down. He moved slowly, almost gently. He kissed Eli tenderly, and Eli’s chest started to heave beneath him. “Please…,” Eli said again, and he turned his head, opening his eyes. “Don’t let this be all we have. Don’t let this be the end. Please… please... say you’re mine.” Conor’s heart clenched. He kissed Eli. “You know I am. Always. Whether we’re together or not.” “I love you.” “And I love you, too, Eli. I’ll come back. I promise I’ll come back.” Tears streaked Eli’s face rapidly. “You better, you bastard,” he said fiercely. His arms pulled Conor closer, his thighs hard around his back. “I will.” Conor kissed him desperately. Eli’s legs tightened. His muscles clamped around Conor. Conor rushed almost dizzyingly to orgasm. Beneath him, Eli bucked and writhed, coming with a shout. Conor fell onto him. Eli pulled him close, holding him so tight that for a moment, Conor was not sure where he ended and Eli began. He hoped it would always be this way. He hoped Eli would forever hold his heart the way he did now. No matter what.

ELI

managed to extricate himself from Conor. He went into the bathroom and locked the door, cleaning himself up. Then he stood looking at his red-rimmed eyes in the mirror. Very attractive. “Fucking pussy,” he told his reflection. Was he really going to just let Conor have the option to run back to Ireland and call the shots again from there? Was he going to go along with that? Or was he going to give Conor an ultimatum? Be with me now or don’t fucking bother. He swayed against the sink. He was so drunk he

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 167 wasn’t capable of analyzing any of this now, much less laying the law down to Conor and starting a fight so fierce the walls would shake with it. He sighed, stabbed the glass hard with one finger. “Yeah. Fucking pussy.” He switched the light off and pulled open the door. Conor lifted his head sleepily, blinking in the lamplight. “Were you calling yourself a pussy in there? Or me?” Eli sat naked on the edge of the bed, back turned. The mattress rocked behind him. An arm went around his torso; Conor pressed against his back. “What’s the matter?” “Like you don’t know.” Conor sighed. His mouth planted several kisses on Eli’s neck, making him shiver. “Okay, what do you want?” “You know what I want.” “Look, come to Ireland for Christmas and New Year. Stay as long as you want.” “That’s four months away. Tell me exactly how I cope without you for four months? Because obviously you’re going to find it really easy.” Conor squeezed him tight, face against Eli’s neck. “You know I’m not. I don’t know how I’m ever going to sleep again without you next to me.” Eli was an emotional drunk, and to prove this, the tears dripped helplessly off his nose and onto Conor’s hands. “I hope you never sleep again without me,” he said fiercely, and he pulled away, grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms off a chair and stalked from the room, heading once more for the couch.

CONOR switched the light off and lay in the dark, listening to the couch creaking in the living room as Eli tried to get comfortable. Less than forty-eight hours to go, and they lay in separate rooms after that glorious love-making. Conor understood Eli’s anger and

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 168 frustration, though. He understood the misery completely of his own making. He was supposed to have a plan when he came to America. That plan didn’t include promising Eli the earth and then failing to deliver. He despised himself. What was there in Ireland that he needed to run back for? It certainly wasn’t his family or a huge circle of friends. Aidan was gone, as were his parents. There was only Eli left, and Eli was all that mattered. He should have gone through with the marriage. Anything for Eli.

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Chapter 26 CONOR packed up his suitcases when he got up, leaving two lots of clothes out before he showered in the en suite and went to the kitchen in his bathrobe. Eli was already at the table, bare-chested in pajama bottoms, eating cereal. Without a word, he got up, poured Conor some coffee, and set the cup down in the place opposite him. “Thanks.” Eli put three slices of bread in the toaster and pushed them down, then went back to his cereal wordlessly. Conor put milk in his coffee and stirred it, looking at Eli. “Are you hungover?” “Yeah.” Eli got up from the table and put his bowl in the sink. “Want some orange juice?” “Please.” Eli went into the fridge, produced a carton and poured a glass, setting it down next to Conor’s coffee. Then he busied himself finding a plate for the toast. “I have to go see some children today,” he said, back turned. Conor’s gaze moved over his broad shoulders and down his elegant spine. He noted each mole and freckle on Eli’s smooth, tanned skin, saving them up in his mind. He ached to reach out and touch. “But… it’s my last full day.” He hated how sorry for himself he sounded. The toast popped up. “There’s nothing I can do about that. I have to work.” Eli put the plate down in front of Conor and retrieved jam, honey, and margarine from the fridge. “Don’t worry,

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 170 I’ll be back to put dinner on the table.” His tone was almost dismissive. Conor caught his arm furiously as Eli tried to walk by him. “Don’t speak to me that way. I want to spend today with you.” “Tough.” Eli kept his face turned away, trying to twist his arm out of Conor’s steel grip. “You don’t get me twenty-four seven.” Conor was silent a moment. From what he could see of Eli’s face, it looked like his lover was trying hard not to cry. He pulled Eli swiftly onto his lap and held him hard. Eli went limp in his grip. He put his arms around Conor’s neck and hid his face. Conor stroked both hands down Eli’s bare back. He moved one to Eli’s head and played with his silky hair, then he buried his nose in it, inhaling its sweet scent of shampoo and styling products. He closed his eyes. All this was about to be taken away from him, and it was his own fault. A wild thought occurred to him. He could stay here illegally. Just abandon his house, his job and his family. Never go back. It was absurd. What would he do for money? Eli had virtually none. Conor only knew how to be a police officer, and he could hardly join the police over here as an illegal alien. He almost smiled to himself. Eli would probably think it was a great idea, but then Eli was impetuous and romantic. Sadly, life wasn’t a Hollywood movie. Reality included things like green cards and gainful employment. He nuzzled Eli’s forehead with his lips, tracing the raised edges of the scar. Eli lifted his face. He kissed Conor softly almost hesitantly, and Conor returned it. They kissed and kissed, and still it wasn’t enough. Every time the kiss broke, one of them went back in for more. It turned into a marathon, lips glued, tongues touching, breathing into the other’s mouth. Conor needed this. He needed to remember every single kiss. Eli’s mouth was suffused with blood and his face was flushed when Conor finally let him up for air. Usually he only flushed this way when he came, but it had been a heavy session. His eyes were soft, doe-like. “Do you want to go to bed?” he asked quietly.

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 171 “Haven’t you got somewhere to go?” “Yes, but I don’t care.” Conor stroked a few strands of dark hair away from Eli’s eyes. “Don’t ruin your work for me. Go.” Eli hesitated, looking regretful and torn. “I’m sorry.” Conor shook his head; put his finger to Eli’s lips. Then he pushed him lightly from his lap. Eli walked into the bedroom, looking back once. Conor remained where he was, eating his cold toast.

ELI

was only five minutes dressing. He came out of the bedroom with a satchel over his shoulder bursting with papers and his laptop. He came over to Conor, put a hand on his shoulder, leaned down, and kissed him. “I won’t be long,” he murmured. He tasted of toothpaste. Conor nodded. “Have a nice day, honey. Don’t be late.” Eli didn’t smile at his attempt at humor. Conor’s gaze followed Eli to the door, then he sat silently at the table a while when he had gone. Here was something else he had to remember. If he and Eli lived together, they wouldn’t spend that much time together at all, not when Eli was constantly going off on trips abroad. They would probably be better off spending a couple of weeks with each other every few months, Eli had to realize that. But Conor was only trying to justify his decision to himself yet again. His heart already ached with loss, and he was still here in California. How would he feel when that plane touched down in Ireland and he was without Eli for four months? He cleared the table and washed the dishes before going back into the bedroom and lying down.

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ONE of Eli’s many jobs was an ad hoc keeper at the Moonridge Animal Park in Big Bear Lake, and he had been part of the wildlife awareness program for a while, which visited schools and other places with various animals from the park and taught willing listeners about the wonders of the natural world and conservation. Today he was tasked with picking up his animal ambassadors—this time a tarantula, a raccoon, an owl, and a snake—and taking them to a school in San Bernadino where he spent a fun-filled morning engaging the children with the animals and hopefully instilling a life-long respect and caring. After that it was back to LA and the university, where he worked on one of his research papers in the library. On the way home, he remembered two polar bears from a zoo in Canada he had seen the previous month. They had been among his favorites, probably something to do with the fact they were popularly known as gay by the staff, two males who had formed a close bond and were rarely seen separately. He had watched the two bears through the mesh fence. One lay down in the sun by the pool, the other lay close beside him, looking at his friend unblinkingly. How would they feel if one were taken away suddenly? Probably like Eli was going to feel when Conor was gone tomorrow. Like a part of him had gone to Ireland. Four months. How to while away four months without going insane with need? How to keep his broken heart from exsanguinating into his chest and killing him? Perhaps he should just give it all up now and get on a plane with Conor tomorrow. What did anything else matter as long as they were together? But he couldn’t give up his work here. He just couldn’t. He had to accept what Conor wanted to do or break it off. There was no other alternative. On his way home from the university, he bought some Chinese food and a bottle of expensive wine for their final dinner together. They were about to spend their last night sleeping together for four months. He had to make sure everything was just right.

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CONOR was lying naked under a sheet in Eli’s bed, on his side facing the window. Eli remembered the words he had spoken last night in anger—I hope you never sleep again without me—and deeply regretted them. Perhaps Conor was trying to sleep now while he could. Eli put his bag down and crawled onto the bed behind him, putting an arm over Conor’s hip. “Hey you.” Conor stirred. “Hi, honey, hard day at the office?” Eli smiled this time, nipping at his ear. “Very hard.” “Tell me what you did.” “I took some animals from a park to a primary school and taught the children to love them like I do.” Conor sighed. “You’ve got such a wonderful job, Eli. Animals are so lucky you were put on this earth to care about them.” Eli melted as he always did when he got a compliment from Conor. He hugged him tighter, pressing against his back, dropping kisses on Conor’s neck. “I missed you.” It sounded stupid. He’d only been gone four hours. “I missed you too. Listen….” Eli closed his eyes and steeled himself, rubbing smooth circles over Conor’s taut abdomen. “If we can get a ceremony tomorrow before I go to the airport, I’ll marry Violet.” “No, Conor,” Eli said without hesitation. “Yes.” “No. It was wrong of me. Don’t mention it again.” Conor was silent. “When I come at Christmas, will we make firm plans for what we’re going to do, or will we just keep this a long-distance thing?” Conor took a moment to answer. “Wouldn’t it be that way anyway if you were gone working for months at a time?” Eli swallowed the knot of tears in his throat. “I guess.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 174 “Before you leave Ireland, we’ll decide what we’re going to do. Either way we’re going to be together.” “You promise?” Conor turned over to face him. He took Eli’s face in his hands, rubbing his nose against his gently. “I promise. I’ve let you down so badly, Eli. I won’t do it again. You and me, we’re in this for the long haul. I’m in it for as long as you’ll have me.” He smiled, his blue eyes glistening ever so slightly. Eli kissed him. He pressed his face into Conor’s neck and held him close.

THEY

ate the Chinese food side by side on the couch with the TV on. Afterward they cuddled, lying down together on the couch, pressed close. No words were needed. They kissed tenderly, slowly. Hands explored each other’s body. Eli sat naked on Conor’s lap, moving slowly and sensually. They came together, mouth-tomouth, gasping their love.

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Chapter 27 TRAFFIC

was busy on the way to the airport, although Eli had made allowances for it. Conor sat in the passenger seat with his hand on Eli’s knee and looked out of the window, watching ocean and palm trees pass by in a blur. Blurred because his eyes were full of tears. Eli didn’t speak the whole way. He pulled up in the car park and switched the engine off. Then he unfastened his seat belt and turned to Conor, embracing him hard. Conor cried helplessly. He finally managed to compose himself. They got out of the car, and Eli pulled Conor’s suitcase from the boot. Conor carried his rucksack while Eli carried the case, and they made their way into the terminal. Eli waited while Conor checked in his luggage and got his ticket. It was a long wait in line, and he struggled not to cry during every minute, constantly turning back to look at Eli. Finally, it was done. Conor walked over to the entrance to security, a line of people removing their belts and shoes, and waited for Eli to join him. This was it.

How was he going to do this? Was he going to let Eli kiss him goodbye here, knowing that if he didn’t, it would be another four months until he could do it once more? Conor loitered behind a pillar, shielded from at least half of the terminal, not too many people around him. He left it up to Eli, his heart beating hard, nausea clawing its way up his throat. Eli put his arms around Conor’s neck. Conor immediately drew him close, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to witness any looks from passers-by. “I’ll see you soon,” Eli said softly against his neck in a broken voice. Conor squeezed him harder. “Yes.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 176 “Call me when you get in. No matter what time it is.” “I will.” “I love you.” “I love you too.” Conor made the first move. Every other person on the planet receded as he lifted Eli’s face in his hands and brought his mouth down to touch those luscious lips one last time. This was right—he knew it was right, and he knew he and Eli would be together no matter what. It was just a matter of time and a matter of being strong and keeping it together while he was away from Eli. It was a matter of deciding their futures and where he wanted to live. A matter of not hurting Eli again and doing everything in his power to keep his lover happy. Eli clung to him as they kissed, and the kiss went on and on until they both drew away, breathless, wet-eyed. “Go,” Eli said, voice trembling, stepping back, trying to push Conor toward passport control. But Conor caught him and held him, kissing him again. Finally, they parted, holding hands, letting their fingers slip apart as Conor walked away. As he showed his passport and prepared to take various items of clothing off, Conor looked back once at Eli. His lover, so proud and self-assured, looked a shadow of his former self: small, vulnerable, destroyed. And it was all Conor could do not to run back, to throw everything to the wind and never go home. He stood looking a moment at Eli, and Eli raised his hand, a small smile on his tear-streaked face. Conor raised his own hand in reply. Then he turned his back and put his rucksack into the Xray machine, reaching to unfasten his belt.

ELI

had been home two hours. The phone in the living room had rung twice. His mother both times—he heard the message she left, asking him to call if he needed her. She knew only too well how hard today was going to be, but he was glad she couldn’t see him

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 177 now, curled into himself on his bed, crying like he would never stop. He had almost drifted into sleep, dry sobs still wracking his chest, when his cell chirruped with a message. He was wide awake instantly, reaching eagerly to the bedside table. Conor’s name in the inbox made his poor, broken heart surge with hope. I’ve been without you two hours, and even this is too much. If you want to get married in Canada let’s do that. If you want me to marry Violet, I’ll do that. Whatever you want and wherever you want. I’m yours. No matter what. xxx Eli read the message over four times in case he’d made a mistake. Then he thought about the idea he’d had on the way home from LAX. He texted Conor back. I’m going to try to get some work again at Galway University if they’ll have me back. Speak to you later xxx Eli jumped from the bed purposefully and grabbed his car keys, pulling his shoes on at the door. He would drive to the university and speak to the right people about the abandoned research project. He would get a grant and get at least a few months in Ireland, and then after that, he’d either get a job there or he would get a job in Canada and marry Conor there. It didn’t matter to him anymore where he lived. Yes, he’d wanted to stay in America, and Conor would make that sacrifice for him, but for the first time ever, his work now came second. Conor came first, and Eli would do whatever it took to make him happy. The text came as he sped down the freeway. Come soon. I can’t be without you.

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Chapter 28 CONOR

stood a little back from the barrier, able to see over the people at the front with ease. The flight from Manchester was an hour and fifty minutes late, but the screen showed it had landed now and the passengers were at baggage reclaim. Conor hoped Eli wouldn’t be delayed by any customs bureaucracy. His palms were damp, and his heart thundered furiously against his ribs. He felt sick with anticipation. He’d drunk hot chocolate in the café and tried to read a book he’d bought from the kiosk, but all to no avail. Instead he’d paced the arrivals hall up and down. Eli was back twelve weeks after they had parted in America, funding at the University of Galway secured for four months. Four whole months to be together, during which they would plan their future down to the finest detail. He just hoped that at the end of this they had to spend a minimum of time apart. When he’d got home from America, he’d had a call from his mother. She said she’d been trying to call him for two weeks. When he’d told her where he’d been, she was silent for so long that he’d asked if she was still there. “I’m still here,” she replied. “What are your plans?” “He hopes to come and live here for a few months. When that’s up, we’re going to live together wherever we can. Maybe Canada where we can get married.” His mother swallowed audibly. “Conor,” she said almost in a whisper. “When this man of yours arrives, please bring him for dinner at the house.”

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 179 Conor was stunned. “What about my father?” “He won’t be there. He’s gone.” “Gone where?” “I threw him out.” Conor had always expected the breakup to come sooner or later, but still it was a shock. “Are you all right?” his mother asked. “Yes. Are you?” “Yes, I’m fine. Best decision I ever made. Look forward to meeting Eli again. Goodbye, Conor.” “Bye mum.” He’d rung his mother last week to tell her Eli was arriving. She sounded happier than she had in such a long time. She asked him to bring Eli on Saturday evening, which was tomorrow. Conor smiled to himself as he stood waiting. Eli would have the shock of his life when he told him. Passengers started to appear, pushing trolleys. The first few were embraced excitedly by people on the front row. Conor craned his neck anxiously, eyes glued on the corner where the people were coming from. Conor saw the trolley first and recognized the rucksack at the front of it, a brightly colored sports bag he had seen in the bottom of Eli’s wardrobe in Venice Beach. His heart lurched, and then he saw black shoes, jeans, a black jacket, and white T-shirt, and his gaze lifted to that beautiful face, summer tan faded and hair cut endearingly short, almost cropped so it made Eli’s dark eyes huge. Conor stepped forward on legs which seemed to bow under him like twigs. Eli reached the barrier and moved around it before he saw Conor, his face lighting up. He left his trolley and threw his arms around Conor, and Conor scooped that wonderful body close to his. Eli trembled against him, but it was with laughter, and when he drew back, tears streaked his face, and he grabbed Conor’s face in his hands and kissed him. They were in Ireland now, not America, but Conor didn’t much care who saw. Nonetheless he limited Eli’s kiss to a few seconds, even though his

Beached Hearts | Scarlet Blackwell 180 mouth burned for more, and hurried him away, a firm arm around him. They kissed properly as soon as they got in Conor’s car, and Eli’s fingers moved over his body, touching greedily as though to remind himself. Conor was in uniform, and Eli’s hands lingered on cuffs and CS gas and baton, and he smiled against Conor’s neck, cuddling in close. “You’re back,” Conor murmured with his lips against Eli’s soft hair. “I’m back,” Eli affirmed. He lifted his head, looking at Conor with those honey eyes. “And I’m not going anywhere. I wanted it to be a surprise. The job is permanent. It’s not a research post—it’s professor of zoology. I have a two year work permit. I’m here to stay.” Conor’s mouth fell open. Happiness so shocking swept through him that he felt weak with it. He brought Eli hard against his chest and smothered him. “I don’t deserve this,” he muttered. “This sacrifice.” “No sacrifice,” Eli said glibly. “The money’s great.” He lifted his head, smirking. Conor smiled. All the hurt he had been through since he met Eli seemed to recede into the distance. He no longer remembered the twelve weeks of hell he had just endured without Eli or that first time Eli had gone back to America and Conor had thought he would die of a broken heart. None of it mattered anymore because every miserable moment had been moving toward this. He and Eli. And he had never been so sure of anything in his life. “Marry me,” Conor said urgently, lifting Eli’s left hand, looking at the ring he still wore. “We’ll go to Northern Ireland.” Eli smiled. “If you insist,” he said as he pressed his lips against Conor’s.

SCARLET BLACKWELL

has loved books all her life. She would love to own a second-hand book shop and sit behind the counter reading her wares and writing her own all day. She has been writing since age thirteen, and her stories always feature two soulmates, each finding the other. She loves cats, rock music, and American TV shows. She lives in the United Kingdom.

Also by SCARLET BLACKWELL

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Beached Hearts ©Copyright Scarlet Blackwell, 2010 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Art by Braden Williams http://www.bradenwilliamsromance.com This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America July 2010 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-561-6