Following on from last week’s snippet from Lovers Leap: Rufus has taken the dripping wet Michael back home to his parents’ B&B to lend him some dry clothes. This, by the way, is the scene that sparked the whole novel: I read a story that used the “we must get you out of those wet clothes” strangers-meet-and-then-get-frisky trope and couldn’t help thinking, yes, fine as a fantasy—but how would it really go?
It’s Michael, who’s just stripped off, speaking at the start:
“Oi. Are you perving on my dick?”
Rufus’s face, which, let’s—hah—face it, had been feeling pretty warm already, went red-hot. “No.” It was possibly the least convincing lie he’d ever told. In a long, sad line of unconvincing lies that went all the way back to “No, I never play with dollies.”
“You’re perving on my dick, aren’t you? Jesus. Here I am, only seconds away from near-death of hypothermia, chafed so bad I practically need a skin graft, and you’re perving on my bloody dick.”
That was totally unfair. Rufus wasn’t just perving on his dick.
If they looked, would they ever leap?
Good-looking, confident, and doted on by his widowed mum, Michael is used to thinking only of himself. Getting shoved off an Isle of Wight pier by an exasperated ex ought to come as a wake-up call—but then he meets Rufus and he’s right back to letting the little head take charge. Rufus is cute, keen, and gets under Michael’s skin in a disturbing way.
Would-be chef Rufus can’t believe his luck when a dripping wet dream of a man walks out of the sea on his birthday, especially when Michael ends up staying at the family B&B. Life is perfect—at least until Michael has to go home to the mainland.
Rufus can’t leave the island for reasons he’s entirely neglected to mention. And though Michael identifies as bi, breaking his mum’s heart by coming out and having an actual relationship with a guy has never been his plan. With both men determined to keep their secrets, a leap of faith could land them in deep water.