A Twist and Two Balls by Clare London

Author:Clare London
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance, romance comedy, gay adult romance, romance sex, gay adult romance gay contemporary gay contemporary romance, gay romantic comedy, gay interracial romance, romance adult contemporary, london romance
Publisher: Clare London

Meeting the family? Nuri’s family? Eddy was at a frantic loss. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met anyone’s family, like a suitor arriving on his beau’s arm: a kind of gay Gone with the Wind. And God forbid he’d ever have taken anyone to his home.

He spent over an hour trying to decide what to wear, then when Nuri arrived early to collect him, he took it all off to get into bed with Nuri and suck him off. Then when they realised they had to get going for dinner, Eddy grabbed the first thing on the floor. It meant he arrived at Nuri’s house with a pink checked shirt and khaki-coloured jeans – all very good quality, but surely a match made in hell. But as Nuri’s enthusiasm for him never seemed to be affected by what he wore, Eddy swallowed hard and bore with it.

Nuri drove them to a reasonably sized house in the suburbs of Islington, then bustled Eddy into a too-warm kitchen, full of delicious smells from past and present cooking, and the noise and bustle of four generations. It was a baptism by fire, Eddy thought, and probably all for the good. There were no long family introductions in the hallway, no stilted chats about the weather while taking his jacket. He was just thrown straight into the heart of the family itself. Nuri introduced Eddy once to his mother, with an even more seriously respectful tone than he used with Eddy, then sat him at the kitchen table and turned to attend to the rest of his family. Eddy was expected to defend his own corner: meeting the family was going to be not a punishment but an endurance test. Eddy imagined what “girding one’s loins” actually meant and privately grimaced.

Nuri’s mother was most definitely the matriarch, a strong-featured and well built woman dressed in a tailored skirt and pretty blouse, who never seemed to sit still. Eddy had a glass of water and a plate of meze in front of him before he could even shake hands with the woman. He wasn’t even sure if that would have been the right approach. She smiled and greeted him in excellent English, her gaze flickering quickly over his face, as if searching for something in his eyes. Then she whirled away to grab a cloth for the cooking, to bully Nuri towards setting plates and cutlery in the dining room, and to chatter a selection of lyrical but unintelligible orders and admonishments in Turkish to anyone else who passed through.

Eddy took a breath and sipped his water. Nuri’s grandmother sat on the other side of the table, settled in her chair as if she’d arrived with the furniture itself. It was an old rocking chair that was really too large for the kitchen but had been wedged between the door and a dresser. She wore a dark, sleeveless buttoned cardigan over a blouse patterned in rather aggressive neon green stripes, and – most

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