Blowing Off Steam by Joy Lynn Fielding

Author:Joy Lynn Fielding
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance;English;trains;virgin;geek;nerd;bad boy;trainspotting;m/m
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2015-05-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

When Mrs Johnson pushed open the dining room door, using her elbow because she was carrying a laden tea tray, Ryan shot out of his seat and held the door for her, earning an enchanted, girlish look up into his face. Sam guessed even age was no defence against the deadly weapon of Ryan’s smile.

“Thank you, dear,” she said as she put the tray on the table and proceeded to pour them each a cup of tea. “I hope you don’t mind fending for yourselves for the rest of the evening. I’ve got the girls coming round to play bridge.”

Murmuring a polite response, Ryan took his seat again, gallantly passing the first teacup and then a plate over to Sam. He took both, a trifle surprised at Ryan’s solicitousness. All became clear, however, when Ryan took his own tea from Mrs Johnson with a smile that would have melted the hardest heart, and she offered him the biscuit plate first.

Sam stared, utterly betrayed, as Ryan snagged the single shortbread finger that had nestled among the chocolate buns. He somehow managed not to say anything until Mrs Johnson was gone again, door firmly closed behind her, and then he turned on Ryan.

“You sod.”

Ryan grinned back, looking disgustingly smug and pleased with himself. “Yep,” he said with satisfaction, and sank his teeth into the crumbly goodness of the best shortbread in the history of the world.

Sam stared forlornly at his plate. The chocolate bun he’d taken in order to be polite just didn’t match up against Mrs Johnson’s shortbread. Ryan sighed, leaned over, and put what was left of the shortbread on it.

“You look like I murdered your puppy,” he said. “For God’s sake, you have it.”

It wasn’t as if Sam fell in love with Ryan Saunders because of a piece of shortbread, but in that moment he realised that as well as being hotter than hell, amazing in bed and a freaking engine driver, Ryan was kinder than he’d ever let anyone guess. Sam’s heart turned over in his chest, and there was a lump in his throat. It didn’t, however, stop him from cramming the shortbread in his mouth as fast as he could go, because he wasn’t going to risk Ryan changing his mind.

“Thanks,” he said, through a mouthful of crumbs.

Apart from the occasional bursts of laughter that floated across the hall from the sitting room—something to do with the bottle of wine that had been laid out on the green baize table alongside the packs of cards, Sam thought—they were undisturbed for the rest of the evening and managed to photograph every last scrap of paper that Ryan wanted. After thanking Mrs Johnson by poking their heads into the sitting room where four elderly ladies sat, grimly intent on the cards in their hands, they walked home together.

The problem was, Sam thought, glancing sideways at Ryan, that he could really get used to this, to spending every evening and night with Ryan. But while he might not

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