Chapter One #3
Lachlan snorted. “To the partners, yes. I still have to pay off my degree.” Going back to lifeguarding had slashed his income, but at least it was an honest living while he figured out what to do with his life.
He mused, “Don’t really know much about Bitcoin.
Maybe I should look into it. Is it the same thing as crypto? ”
Tim chuckled, a rumble that made Lachlan’s pulse jump. “Fucked if I know, mate. I stick to the water.” He sat back in his chair, legs comfortably spread.
Eyes up!
“Fair enough.” A server came, and Lachlan ordered a Bintang. He asked Tim, “Another? My shout.”
“Cheers.”
The sun was below the horizon now, clouds glowing yellow in the distance beyond the treetops. Below, the fire dance preparations continued, gorgeous men dressed in skimpy traditional costumes setting up massive torches along the palm-tree-lined center aisle leading to the beach in the distance.
Finally, Lachlan had to ask. “Did you come to the wedding with anyone?”
Another wry smile from Tim—this one tinged with…bitterness? Sadness? “Nah. I was seeing someone, but we split a few months ago.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Tim was single? Not that it mattered.
“Told my ex, Sarah, she should be the one to come to the wedding since she loves Bali. It’s too crowded for me, though I admit the St. Regis isn’t the average Bali resort crammed with bogans, Bintang, and girls in bikinis. And I say that as a life-long bogan.”
Lachlan laughed. “You are not.”
“Don’t be fooled. I’m not always this fancy.” Tim finished his champagne. “I’ve been known to keep tinnies of Jack and Coke premix in the fridge.”
Lachlan shook his head solemnly. “My deepest condolences.”
This garnered a chuckle from Tim, his full lips lifting. It really shouldn’t have been such a thrill to make his best friend’s father laugh. Lachlan shouldn’t have felt so damn proud. He shouldn’t have wanted to impress. Or please.
He couldn’t resist prodding a bit more. “Your ex passed on all this?”
Tim nodded. “She’d met him, but Tony was my mate. She thought it would be strange. Probably right. So, here I am.”
“Where are the rest of the guests?”
“Out on a boat. It’s my last night in Bali too, and I’ve had enough of people.”
Lachlan’s heart dropped. “If you’d rather be alone, I can leave you in peace.”
Tim examined him with that steady focus that only made Lachlan sweat more before asking, “Sure you’re a lawyer?”
“What?” He sputtered, trying to laugh it off.
This was getting ridiculous. He needed to come clean or down his drink and make an excuse to escape. Clearly, acting wasn’t in Lachlan’s wheelhouse. Why was he even putting on this performance?
Tim said, “Most lawyers I’ve met have had…an abundance of confidence.”
“I’m confident.” Shit, his voice had practically wavered.
“You should be, looking like that.” Tim’s gaze swept down Lachlan’s body, then slowly back up.
Stomach swooping the way it did on the peak of a wave, the water lifting him high, Lachlan was speechless as their eyes locked.
Was this a stitch-up?
There was no way Ryan’s dad was—
No.
Impossible.
The server returned with their beers, and Tim turned to her while Lachlan struggled to rein in the lust surging through his veins. That wasn’t what it’d seemed like.
Tim Bullock wasn’t hitting on him.
Lachlan almost laughed out loud before taking a slurp of the icy beer, the bottle already sweating in the humid night. Steady thumping began in the courtyard, saving him from responding further. As he watched the Balinese drummers set a driving beat, calling guests to gather, his mind raced.
Could Ryan’s dad be hitting on him? No. Surely this was some wish-fulfillment fantasy run amok. His imagination getting the better of him.
Something tickled Lachlan’s cheek, and he brushed at his smooth skin. He hadn’t bothered shaving all week in Kuta, but the St. Regis had felt worthy of a clean shave.
“Mosquito,” he said since Tim was watching him with an intensity that could arouse a surfboard.
“You sure? They do a mass fumigation twice a week. We were warned to close our windows yesterday.”
“Dunno.” Lachlan’s cheek still tickled, and he waved his hand around his hot face.
“You right?”
“Yeah, just—” Something brushed his face again, and he batted at it.
“C’mere.” In the fading light, Tim sat forward and extended his hand.
Heart pounding, Lachlan leaned closer in his chair, holding his breath as Tim’s warm fingertips touched his cheek. This close, he could smell faint cologne that reminded him of the ocean with a hint of…lavender? And fresh herbs like mint or coriander.
“Just a hair.” Tim held up the dark strand before releasing it.
“Oh! Cheers, mate.” Lachlan sat back. “Amazed you could see that.”
“You’re easy to look at,” Tim said as the performance began below with a coordinated burst of fire from the long line of torches. He watched the dancers, sipping his beer, casual as anything. The golden light played over his face.
Lachlan forced his attention to the show as drummers accompanied a man in a loin cloth who twirled two long sticks with fire burning at the ends.
He couldn’t focus. If he was supposed to be a lawyer, he had to examine the evidence coolly. Calmly. Rationally.
The jury was in.
As hard as it was to believe, Ryan’s dad was actually hitting on him.
Since when was Tim Bullock queer? Was he gay? Bi? He’d just mentioned a woman he’d dated. Had he been in the closet? Ryan had ranted about the divorce, going on about his dad abandoning his mum, but nothing else.
It didn’t matter now. Because now, Tim was here with Lachlan watching men spin fire as the humid night settled over them. Lachlan’s heart matched the performers’ drumbeat. If this was a stitch-up…
But how could it be a prank? He’d never breathed a word of his crush to anyone. His mates weren’t about to pop out from behind the palm trees.
As they applauded the dancers below, Lachlan felt the need to talk. “I can see why you were happy to watch again. I saw a few men on the street yesterday playing some kind of stringed instruments. Could’ve stayed for hours, but… Well.”
“But?”
“My mates had to get to another bar.” He huffed out a half laugh. “Bars and clubs are full of Aussies. Could’ve just stayed home. I’d rather get a little culture, even if it is packaged for tourists.”
Tim nodded. “You like music? Real music, I mean. Not what passes for it these days.”
“I do. My mates are into heavy metal but—” He broke off. Surely this would be what did him in. Tim would think of Ryan and trigger a memory that would connect the dots.
“My son loves that noise too.” His face darkened, and he looked away. “Or, he used to at least.”
Lachlan’s heart was in his throat. Here was another opportunity to confess, but he only said, “I used to go with my mates to concerts, but I was the dork who wore ear plugs.”
His mind buzzed. Ryan’s dad really didn’t recognize him.
Tim drained his bottle. “This shout’s on me. Actually, this one can be on the billionaire father of the groom if we want something stronger than beer.”
“In that case, what else should we order?”
Tim grinned. “Guess you’re a lawyer after all.”
Pride flowing through him at making Tim truly smile, Lachlan asked, “Have you tried a Bali Mary?”
“Yeah, the tropical Bloody Mary? It’s no Jack and Coke in a can, but it’ll do.”
“I didn’t have lunch, so I should have a vegetable.”
“Tomato’s a fruit, but close enough.” Tim swallowed the last of his beer and motioned to the server before asking, “Hungry?”
The woman instantly appeared and said, “Let me bring you more snacks, gentlemen. Would you like a reservation in one of our restaurants tonight?”
There was no way Lachlan could stomach a full meal with the butterflies currently in residence. He said, “Snacks are enough for me.”
Tim nodded his agreement and ordered two Bali Marys. They watched the rest of the show, munching on nuts and chips and a plate of local fruit.
Lachlan clapped for the performers at the right moments and ate and drank even as he felt like he was underwater, the world muted and dreamy and distant.
He picked up a piece of scaly brown fruit that was tear-drop shaped. “No idea what this is.”
“Snake fruit,” Tim said, reaching out. He ran his thumb over the tough rind, fingers brushing Lachlan’s palm. “Because of the skin, see?”
“Ah.” His heart skipped. “How do you open it?”
Tim took it from him and squeezed the pointy tip, twisting gently.
“Too easy,” Lachlan said as Tim peeled the leathery skin from the fruit and pried apart one of the three segments inside. He held one out to Lachlan. Their fingertips met.
Warm air whispered over Lachlan’s bare arms as he took a bite. Was there a sexy way to eat fruit? He just hoped it wouldn’t get stuck in his teeth. “Mmm. Woody. Like…apple and pear? But milder.”
Tim nodded and bit into a segment, his eyes zeroed on Lachlan.
Yes, there was most definitely a sexy way to eat fruit.
“Up for that swim in the saltwater lagoon?” Tim asked.
“We just ate,” Lachlan said, like the world’s biggest knob.
“I’m a lifeguard. I’ll keep you safe.” Tim said it with a completely straight face, and it was so hot that Lachlan was in serious danger of tenting his trousers.
“Right.” He laughed, trying to calm his nerves. “Two—” he broke off before he could say “lifeguards” and finished with, “—grown men should be right.”
“Should be,” Tim drawled, his eyes burning Lachlan’s skin.
Was this actually happening? It was wrong. Ryan was his best friend! Even if he’d never see Tim again, he absolutely, positively, shouldn’t do this.
Yet he nodded.
It turned out that finding a way into the lagoon was easier said than done. They’d agreed to meet in twenty minutes, and Lachlan had spent ten flossing, brushing, and practically bathing in mouth wash. Not that he was going to be kissing Tim.
Unless he was?