By Quarry Lake

Still waters
run deep…

Tommy’s been
away from his home in rural Somerset for three years. Long enough
to sort out who he is, and to get over the feelings of confusion
and shame that blighted his lifelong friendship with farmer’s boy
Rob. He’s out and proud, now—and he’s coming home to claim back
what he lost.

Rob’s the one
who stayed behind, working on the farm with little time for a
social life. With Tommy coming back into his world, he could have a
lot to gain—and everything to lose.

He’s going to
have to take a leap of faith. Straight into the ice cold waters of
Quarry Lake.

This story was
originally published in 2013 as part of the
Summer Lovin’
anthology.

Copyright 2016 by
Josephine Myles

Cover Art by
Lou
Harper

Smashwords Edition

.

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For all you wild
swimmers out there.

The river
wasn’t the same as when he’d left it.

Tommy had
thought that here at least he’d be safe. Be able to pick up the
threads of his old life, pre-university. Pre
running-away-to-London. Because nothing ever changed in sleepy
rural Somerset, did it?

But what he
remembered as a joyful, gurgling river now was little better than a
stagnant ditch, the rocks in its path barely causing a ripple on
the glassy surface of the water. The moss line on the far bank
revealed just how much lower the water was running than usual. All
these weeks without rain, the sun beating down mercilessly. It had
been bad enough back in the city, but he’d expected relief from the
stifling heat out in the countryside.

Yeah, like that
was the only reason he’d wanted to get back here.

Did Rob even
know he was back?

And if he did,
would he care?

Tommy sighed
and trudged down the pathway. The year-round mud of his youth was
now a hard, cracked surface, the only remnants of the boggiest
places a shrinking area of sticky, clay-like mud. It was meant to
be cooler here in the woods. He’d planned to paddle in the
shallows, reconnecting with old haunts before taking those steps
down the pathway to the Carvers’ farm. Prepare himself to meet with
Rob again.

But maybe there
was no way to prepare for their meeting. Should he appear with an
apology on his lips, or just try to pick up where things left off?
Before the kiss, that was. The kiss that changed everything.

Fuck it. He’d
clear his head with a swim instead.

It took him a
few moments to recognise the turning. A tree had fallen, confusing
him. But with every step he took up the narrow pathway the memories
returned, crowding him.

Bumping
shoulders with Rob, laughing about something they’d both watched on
telly.

Carrying
fishing rods and bait buckets, telling themselves they definitely
weren’t turning into their dads.

Dashing after
each other in their swimming trunks, yelling about finding pirate
treasure.

Swimming
trunks. He hadn’t even thought to bring them with him. But it
didn’t matter, did it? Not at Quarry Lake. Not if it was still his
and Rob’s secret.

Tommy increased
his pace. The thought of slipping into the cold water, having it
kiss his skin all over, made him shiver with longing. That was what
he needed. Everything would make sense again in the water. He knew
it.

***

The pasture was
starting to singe under the heat of the July sun. Rob Carver stood
at the top of the hill, eyes shaded by the brim of his hat, and
surveyed the land around him. The cattle had all moved down to the
bottoms, lying in the shade of the willows. The grass there was
still green, but for how much longer?

Pointless
wondering about it. The best he could do was to keep the herd well
watered and hope he didn’t have to buy in any feed.

Rob whistled
for Lex. The collie came bounding up from wherever she’d been
hiding, and he reached down to pet her behind the ears.

“You feeling
hot, old girl? Fancy a swim?” Her panting sped up. He could swear
she was nodding her head in response. “Come on then. Let’s take a
break.”

They headed
down through the high meadows, butterflies flitting lazily through
the wildflowers around them. His father had been talking about
cutting the hay a month early this year, seeing as how it was all
pretty much dried out before it was even cut. If they left it too
late, it would be worthless as winter feed. But the thought of
spending the next week out here on a tractor in this relentless
heat, arms burning and dust flying up into his face...

Rob shook his
head and strode through the long grass, feeling it whip against his
shins. No point wallowing in self-pity. He’d chosen this life.
Loved this land. He knew how to make the best of it. Compromise was
a way of life. The small rebellions against his father were all the
sweeter in contrast to his usual obedience.

Like now. He
should be heading back to the barns and fetching wire to mend the
top fences, but he’d do that this evening instead. Just so long as
his father didn’t catch him swimming...

But he
wouldn’t. His father considered that part of their land worthless
for farming and took no further interest in the woods or the river.
Or the secret lake.

The water would
be icy, easing the itchy heat prickling all over his body. Rob
grinned and broke into a slow jog. It was too hot for running, but
definitely not too hot to swim.

He entered the
woods at the bottom of the hill, slowing down a little to enjoy the
relative cool of the shade. But Lex shot ahead, and her enthusiasm
was contagious. Rob pounded after her with a whoop on his lips.

He burst out of
the trees into the open clearing by the lake. The deep waters of
the small pool reflected the quarry wall towering behind and the
unbroken blue of the sky.

And there,
standing on top of the cliff was a naked man, poised to dive.

Before the
warning shout could leave Rob’s lips the figure jumped. But no,
jumping wasn’t the right word. He flew through the air like a bird,
flipping over in an impossibly graceful arc. And by then it was too
late to call. Anything that broke the diver’s concentration could
be dangerous. There were boulders underwater waiting to ambush the
unwary, but the diver had aimed himself for the deepest point. He’d
be okay.

Rob let out the
breath he’d been holding, his shoulders relaxing down. The man
breached the water with barely a ripple. And with him hidden from
sight, annoyance surfaced.

This was Rob’s
secret. Rob’s land. Who the fuck was this trespasser?

“Lex, go get
him. Bad man. Intruder. Go on.”

But the stupid
mutt just trotted to the water’s edge and began drinking.

A head surfaced
in the middle of the lake.

Bloody
hell.

“Tommy?” Tommy
Freestone?

Tommy’s eyes
widened. Yeah, that was him. His hair was the wrong colour—too
dark—and his skin paler than Rob remembered. But there was that
twitch of a grin. The one that invited mischief.

“Come on in,
the water’s lovely,” Tommy said.

“Yeah, right.
Fucking freezing, more like.”

“Pussy.”

“Nutter.”

“Come on. Get
your kit off. You know you want to.”

Rob’s stomach
flipped, excitement pooling low in his belly. He took a deep
breath, willing his wildly hammering heart to calm down. Tommy
hadn’t meant it like that. Probably thought Rob had trunks hidden
under his shorts. Three years ago Tommy had made it amply clear
where he stood on the whole boy on boy thing, which was about as
far as away as possible. Over a hundred miles away, in fact. They’d
barely spoken again before Tommy had gone off to London for his art
degree.

He stole a
quick glance at Tommy’s body under the cover of stripping off his
T-shirt. All he could see above the water were a pair of pale
shoulders, still slim, but now boasting muscle definition where
previously he’d been all skin and bone. Nice. But out of bounds.
His stupid cock had better remember that before he stripped his
shorts off.

It was only
when Rob started on his fly that he remembered he was wearing a
white pair of undies. Bugger. He’d look like one of the blokes he
tossed off to on Tumblr in wet tighty-whities. Not as ripped as
them, obviously, but wet white cotton didn’t hide much. He
hesitated, fly drawn down and thumbs tucked through his
waistband.

“What you
waiting for, Carver? Scared it’ll be too cold?” Tommy clucked like
a mother hen. “Even Lexi’s getting wet. Hey Lex, over here. Come to
Tommy. Yes, you’re pleased to see me, aren’t you?”

Sure enough,
Lex was ploughing into the water, tail wagging eagerly. Life would
be so much easier if Rob could be more like his dog. If he could
just bound up to the men he fancied and sniff their crotches
shamelessly. Damn, that really wasn’t helping the semi-on
situation.

“I don’t have
any trunks with me,” Rob said eventually.

Tommy raised an
eyebrow. “Me either. Come on, mate. It’s not like I haven’t seen it
before.”

Rob blushed,
but the words gave him permission to shuck down his shorts and step
out of them. He kept his gaze focused on the water’s edge, not
wanting to catch the disgust—or worse, total indifference—in
Tommy’s eyes. He lowered himself into the water carefully. There
was no shallow beach at the old quarry, proof that this was a
manmade feature rather than a natural part of the landscape. The
drop was steep, straight into water too deep to stand up in.

“Fuck!” Rob
gasped, treading water and willing his lungs to slow down. He was
panting like Lex right now. The water burned cold against his skin,
and the only way to fight it was to start swimming, to work your
body until you got used to it. He made his way over to Tommy. When
he got closer, he could see that what he’d taken for a drop of
water on Tommy’s chin was some kind of piercing. A round metal stud
under his lower lip to match the rings through his earlobes.
Freaky, but kind of hot in a bad boy way.

“Took you long
enough,” Tommy said. “You’re out of practice, Carver.”

Rob ducked his
head, because shrugging was impossible while treading water. “Don’t
find much time for swimming these days.”

“Your old man
still got you slaving away?”

“He’s all
right. It’s not like he doesn’t work hard himself, and he’s only
trying to keep the farm from going under.”

“That still a
risk?”

“We manage.
Just.” But there wasn’t anything spare. No money for Rob to buy
fancy clothes and head out to a club somewhere, find himself a warm
body to bring him off. Even if he’d wanted to do that kind of
thing. Which he didn’t.

Much.

He wasn’t about
to dwell on his lack of any kind of love life, though. “How about
your old man? Anyone heard anything?”
Fuck
! Could he put his
foot in it any more deeply than that?

He could have
kicked himself when he saw Tommy wince, but then a grim smile
formed itself. “Last Mum heard, he’s living on the streets up in
Birmingham, marinating his liver in Special Brew. Serve him right,
the bastard. Least he didn’t come looking for me in London. I’d
have shown the arsehole where to get off.” Tommy shook his head
fast, water droplets spinning out and splashing Rob in the
face.