No Fear in Love

By Jamie Craig

Weston Scott is happy with his simple, quiet life in a small English village. Yet he is haunted by deeply closeted yearnings, a secret he has shared with only one person. His best friend, Mark. As a constant reminder to guard his own heart, Weston wears an emerald ring on his hand.

Mark Goudy has a secret of his own, one that drove him to live far away in London rather than betray his best friend’s trust: he’s always been in love with Weston. Now he’s back, but not for a friendly visit. Mark’s done denying his emotions.

And if he can manage to slip that ring off Weston’s finger for one night, he’s sure things will change. For both of them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: May 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781646563968

Jamie Craig

Jamie Craig is the collaboration of Vivien Dean and Pepper Espinoza. Both have been in love with romance, adventure, fantasy, and the written word since childhood. Pepper lives in Utah with her dog and cats and loves to golf when she’s not working. Vivien lives in Northern California with her husband and two teenagers.

Book preview

3

Chapter 1

Father Weston Scott wasn’t sure if this was his fourth or fifth pint. He wasn’t quite tipsy, but his friend, Mark Goudy, didn’t let even a minute pass between rounds. Before the amber liquid was gone from his glass, Mark was on his feet and waving down another two pints. Weston probably should have put a stop to it—or at least insisted that he pay for a few—but he was having too much fun. He didn’t get a chance to see his friend often, and he was determined to simply enjoy himself and the memories between them.

The heavy ring he wore on his right hand clinked against the glass as he accepted the fresh beer from Mark, and it was audible even in the dull roar of the pub. Mark’s eyes were drawn to Weston’s finger, and he frowned slightly.

I can’t believe you still wear that thing.

Weston smiled, amused at Mark’s tone of disbelief. The cheap ring had certainly seen better days. Sometimes he thought he should get the emerald reset in real gold or silver, or maybe even replace it altogether, but that ring had seen him through some very difficult times. He didn’t want to let it go.

There’s nothing wrong with this ring.

It’s rubbish. Tell me you don’t still believe in that stupid superstition.

Weston did believe in that so-called stupid superstition. Of course, he couldn’t admit as much to Mark. Their friendship stretched back many years—since they were boys—but there were certain things Mark never understood, or tried to understand. The strength Weston drew from the ring was one of those things. When Mark looked at Weston’s hand, he saw a gaudy piece of costume jewelry. But Weston saw an expensive emerald, his lucky charm, a secret shield.

He bought the emerald ring the day he became a priest in the Anglican Church. He had heard that emeralds were traditionally used to ward off demons and preserve chastity. Weston couldn’t say he didn’t believe in the devil, or in the devil’s work, but he had different holy objects to deal with that evil. Sometimes he needed reinforcement. A solid link to all he had lost and gained by entering the priesthood. Weston hadn’t taken a vow of chastity, but he was a representative of Christ on Earth, and the ring reminded him of that. He needed that reminder the most when he drank with Mark.

Right. Like you don’t have any superstitions? I saw you throw salt over your shoulder earlier tonight.

Habit, mate. Which is the only reason you haven’t tossed the trinket yet.

No. He spun the ring on his finger. "I haven’t tossed it yet because it works. I haven’t been…tempted…once since I started wearing it."

The cock of Mark’s brow was a slash across his forehead. He leaned forward, his dark blue eyes searching Weston’s. His eyes were as riveting and intense as they had been since they were children; Mark had been the only one to break Wes into reluctant confessions.

Not once? he dared. Are you telling me the bloke who couldn’t even look at mag covers without getting a hard-on doesn’t ever wonder what it would be like to sink into hot, tight flesh and shag until your eyes pop?

Weston swallowed. The uncomfortably direct question didn’t surprise him. Not coming from Mark. I may have wondered occasionally. But I’ve never crossed the line.

His mouth twisted in a smirk that seemed to grow sharper the longer he looked at it. Just toed it a little then, yeah?

If it had been anybody else in the world, Weston would have shut the discussion down as completely inappropriate. But it was Mark. So he merely offered a sheepish grin and nodded. A little. But never crossed it.

Anybody else would have settled back in his chair. Confession made. Discussion over.

Not Mark.

Mark had never been the type to back off anything. He had been the one to dare to go to London, to leave their quiet village life in search of something grander. When Mark saw something he wanted, he took it. It was why he had an arrest record as a juvenile, and a well-deserved reputation for raising hell. Weston had always secretly admired that about his lifelong friend. People often questioned how two such disparate people could be so close, even after all these years, but Wes never gave them the straight answer. He never mentioned that he wished he could be Mark.

I always thought it was a shame, you and the priesthood, Mark mused. His voice was low and thoughtful, rich with warmth. Such a waste.

It’s not a waste to devote your life to God, Mark. Weston sipped his beer, not willing to have this argument again. I have a calling.

Mark didn’t look away. You’re not lonely?

Weston couldn’t hold Mark’s gaze. He studied his half-empty glass, instead. An objective observer would never characterize his life as lonely. How could one ever be lonely when surrounded by the majesty of God? How could one ever wish for company when there were so many people in that little village who needed his comfort and aid? Those questions were moot, and even a bit tedious, when he was staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night, wondering who would be there to comfort him when he needed it.

Who has time to be lonely? This is my first night off in weeks.

And you’re spending it with me? I think I’m flattered.

Don’t be. Weston smiled. Nobody else around here is willing to pay for a few rounds.

Speaking of paying… Mark peered into his empty pint glass. "We could always grab some Guinness from the shops before we get too pissed to drive home. We can take it back to your place and you