Half Empty

By Alexa Milne

As a teenager, Lincoln Woodhouse was thrown out of his home, an isolated farm in Norfolk, for being gay. Life could have gone very badly for a young uneducated boy not used to the ways of the outside world. Luckily for him, he was saved by two incredible people, a social worker who found him a school and a place to live, and her brother, who taught him all he knew about working with wood.

Sixteen years later, Linc has a successful business and many good friends, but he longs for more. One day, he receives a call about a job unlike any he' s done before. The beautiful voice on the end of the phone stirs something within him. A few days later, Linc discovers that the man who opens the door is every bit as attractive as the voice.

David Rallison was adopted at the age of three into a happy family who helped him to deal with the other issues in his life. David has two great loves— books and cats. He loves running the local library, and also fosters kittens, but hasn' t yet found someone special to share his life. Could the person on his doorstep be that man?

Book One of the Finding Family trilogy follows Linc and David from their first meeting to their discovering more about each other. But, as they begin to build a relationship, echoes of the past are always there, ready to destroy possible hopes of a future together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fictionwide
• Release date: Mar 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9781802507799

Alexa Milne

Originally from South Wales, Alexa has lived for over forty years in the North West of England. Now retired, after a long career in teaching, she devotes her time to her obsessions. Alexa began writing when her favourite character was killed in her favourite show. After producing a lot of fanfiction she ventured into original writing. She is currently owned by a mad cat and spends her time writing about the men in her head, watching her favourite television programmes and usually crying over her favourite football team.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Oh my! His body is every bit as sexy as his voice. When this new customer had called, Linc had wanted to jump down the phone to meet the person on the other end of the line. And here he stood looking… glorious.

Linc moved his bag to cover his groin while his cock went from nought to sixty faster than a Ferrari. He allowed his gaze to appreciate the magnificence of the figure filling the doorway. The man appeared flustered and sweaty—a demeanour which suited him in Linc’s opinion. As he breathed in, Linc caught his scent on the breeze and his body became even more eager to introduce itself.

He took in everything—damp dark hair, big brown eyes, long straight nose, sensual lips, and the shimmering brown skin of his muscular arms beaded with sweat. Then there was the long neck with a towel draped around broad shoulders, and onto the impressive chest, mostly covered by a white vest, which clung to every muscle and sinew. Sweatpants hung on the narrow hips, a bulge hinting at what they contained. Linc continued his downward scan hoping to find large bare feet. His hopes were dashed by the sight of trainers, but the feet were large.

Sorry, he said, coming to his senses and reaching out his right hand. Lincoln Woodhouse, you asked me to come round to give you a quote for a job. I have to say it sounds intriguing.

At last, the vision spoke. Yes, of course, I’m David Rallison. I’ve been working out and forgot the time. Come in.

Hearing him again, now in person, Linc had to steady himself. His body threatened to melt into a pool. That voice, so smooth and low like the narrator in one of the books he’d listened to. Memories of his favourite Star Trek captain, Benjamin Sisko filled Linc’s imagination. Linc followed David through the hallway into the kitchen, failing completely not to ogle his arse, and sad the pants were too loose to see a proper outline of his buttocks.

Don’t be such an idiot. Get your act together. This is a job. Try at least to be professional.

Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?

Linc nodded. Water would be good. I’ve had too much coffee already this morning. That might explain this reaction, and how my pulse is racing, that, and a complete lack of sex for several months.

David removed two bottles from the fridge, and a glass from the cupboard. Linc noted each ripple of muscle and the way his T-shirt rose to reveal his back. He poured one bottle into the glass and passed it to Linc. Take a seat.

Linc did as he was told and sat at the small kitchen table while David leaned back on the edge of the unit and swallowed the contents of the water bottle. His Adam’s apple moved as he downed the liquid. Linc watched David’s throat, longing to kiss his long neck. His cock reared again, making him grateful to be sat at the table. David put the empty bottle back on the counter.

Are you in a hurry? he asked. I could do with changing out of these. He sniffed his armpit and Linc swallowed hard. Did this man have any idea of the effect of his actions? He didn’t think so. Did he really have no clue how beautiful he was?

Have I got time for a shower?

Linc nodded. Yeah, no problem. Please stop doing this to me. Images of droplets of water running over David’s body threatened to set up home in Linc’s mind. He shook his head as if to chase the thoughts away then opened his bag, I’ll set up my computer to show you my work. And give my cock time to subside... Oh hell. Those images are persistent. He shifted on the seat.

Great. I won’t be gone long, then I’ll explain what I want you to do. It’s different from your usual work, so you might not be interested. I’ll be ten minutes, tops.

It’s all right. I’m in no hurry. He did have work to do, but he had no intention of speeding away from this customer, and he had to admit to being intrigued about the nature of the job as well as the man.

Once David had disappeared, Linc glanced around the colourful kitchen—purple was an unusual choice. He removed his laptop from his bag and opened photos of his most recent work. Linc specialised in single pieces of furniture, or sets, with elaborate carving or marquetry. If he’d had a pound for every time he’d had to explain he didn’t make kitchen or bedroom units, he’d be a rich man. However, thanks to having his work displayed in several local high-end furniture shops and craft centres, he’d begun to make money, and had gained several clients willing to part with significant amounts to their own unique pieces. He couldn’t imagine David would want carvings of dragons as his last client had requested. Linc had loved the challenge of creating that set of table and chairs, feeling the wood in his hands, letting it speak to him as Frank had taught him as a teenager. Still, he wasn’t due to start his next commission until the new year, and he'd wanted to meet the owner of that voice.

What the hell? Linc glanced down to find two large furry creatures winding their way between his legs, rubbing against him.

My, aren’t you a stunning pair. Two large cream and brown cats with the bluest eyes stared up at him then launched themselves onto the table. Each nudged his hand until he stroked them, and they produced the loudest purrs.

The kitchen door reopened. I see Pixie and Dixie have introduced themselves. They haven’t quite learned not to walk over the furniture, no matter how many times I tell them.

Linc stared with awe when both cats jumped at their owner. He managed to hold them one in each arm then lower them to the floor. Sweats had been replaced by blue jeans and a pale blue V-neck jumper. Linc couldn’t stop his tongue running across his lips as his mouth became dry as a bone. He picked up the water and swallowed several mouthfuls. Bloody hell. This is ridiculous.

They’re beautiful. I didn’t realise cats kept their blue eyes. I thought only kittens had them.

David took the seat adjacent to him. They’re Birmans mixed with something else, and their eye colour doesn’t change. I got them when they were kittens a couple of years ago. They’re part of the reason you’re here.

David opened his own laptop. As I tried to explain on the phone, I want something like these done around the house for the cats to use. I don’t like letting them out with the traffic. The back garden has an outdoor run for them linked to the opening over there, but they need more stimulation. I thought you might be able to create something like these, but with carvings and patterns. I know it’s not like the beautiful furniture you make…

David pushed the laptop over. The pictures showed various steps and small corridors looping around a house with little hidey holes and beds for the cats to sleep in. They ran around walls, hung from ceilings and between rooms and floors.

This video might give you more of an idea. I think they’re wonderful, and the cats will love having places to hide. I’ve also a room upstairs where I’d like similar designs. As well as my own two, I foster mother cats and their kittens for Coltham Cat Rescue Shelter. I have a webcam set up and people watch the kittens grow up until they’re ready to be adopted. It gives the charity great publicity and helps them to raise money. People love watching them, and I’d love to give the kittens a more stimulating environment. I realise this is different from your usual work—I saw an article about you in the local paper…

That explains how he found me. Matt was right that it would get me noticed.

But do you think you’d be able to create something similar?

Linc stared at the screen. He loved a challenge, and this might be interesting. He’d need to plan the whole house, bash through walls, and even ceilings to create the runs. True, it wasn’t what he usually did, but it would mean spending time with this magnificent specimen of man.

Do you have any kittens now? he asked.

No. I thought it would be better to get the work done while I was between litters. Let me show you around the place. It’s not huge, but it suits me. Downstairs, I’ve this room, the hallway, and the living room, which has a small conservatory at the back. Upstairs, there are three bedrooms. I use one for the kittens and another for a spare bedroom if I have the kids over to stay.

Kids? Is he divorced? He could be bi. And I like kids.

The other one is mine, and there’s a wet room as well. I’d like the steps and the runs done downstairs with a link to the upstairs landing and the outdoor run, and more in the kitten room.

Lead on, then, Linc said.

They toured the house, closely followed by Pixie and Dixie. David explained what he wanted in each room.

Bugger me, you have a lot of books, Linc said at the top of the stairs, staring at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases lining the walls of the landing. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen as many outside a library or stately home.

Occupational hazard, David replied, without further explanation before opening the door to a bedroom. And this is the kitten room.

A large cage with two levels stood in one corner of the room. The space was filled with toys and various climbing frames. Waist-high fencing stood propped against one wall, and bags of cat biscuits occupied another corner. A camera stood on a tripod.

I either get a pregnant cat or mother and kittens and keep the little ones in the cage to begin with while Mum gets to run around the room and jump on the windowsill. When they’re old enough, the kittens get to use the room and I fence off the door to stop them trying to escape. Later, I introduce them to Dixie to get them used to meeting other pets and being in strange rooms. I’ve fostered fifteen litters of kittens so far, and every mother and kitten has been adopted. So, do you think you’d be able to create something for me?

I’ll need the room dimensions, and this might be quite costly depending on what sort of wood you want to use. All the wood I use is sustainably sourced, and I aim to plant a tree for every one I use. You can see more about that on my website if you’re interested.

I’ll check it out. I’ve still got the house information, which has the room sizes, and I’ve seen your work. I’m aware of how much everything might be.

Good. Those will give me enough to go on. I’ll do some research then return with my ideas if that’s all right with you?

It’s my day off today. I’m here Saturday afternoons. I finish work at one and can be here for two. Of course, if you’re busy we can arrange another time. They made their way out of the room and down the stairs into the entrance hall.

I work my own hours, Linc said. I have panto practice on Saturdays. I could pop round sometime next week.

Panto? David asked.

Linc patted his broad chest. Yeah, I’m playing Widow Twankey with the local am-dram group, and I help with the scenery design, too. This year, I’m a vision in pink gingham and appliquéd fruit. We have lots of fun.

David stared at him, as if he were trying to envisage Linc’s six-foot-four, seventeen-stone form in a dress.

Linc batted his eyelashes, wishing he had his large fan to wave over his face. He didn’t care if David wasn’t on team gay, he intended to flirt to the best of his ability. For some reason, I always end up playing the dame. I can’t think why. Maybe it’s because I can walk in heels and don’t mind shaving my legs. Mind you, with my body hair, waxing can be torture. Still, I’m willing to suffer pain for a noble cause.

Linc smiled at David’s gulp of air, and he moved closer. Ever fancied acting? We’re always on the lookout for willing victims—I mean volunteers, and you have such a deep seductive tone to your voice. Do you sing?

David took a step back. I couldn’t, not in front of all those people. He stared at the floor and Linc desperately wanted to put a finger underneath his chin to lift it. Dressing up in private then? Linc had plenty of ideas for costumes.

But don’t people see you on the webcam? he asked.

David glanced up. Yes, but I can’t see them, and they’re watching the kittens. They’re the stars, not me. No—I couldn’t appear on stage. He wiped the back of his hand across his now glowing forehead. I guess I’ll see you sometime next week then.

Linc flashed what he hoped was his warmest grin. I’m looking forward to it. He bent and rubbed the cats’ ears. You are a pair of beauties, aren’t you?

They like you, David said, meeting his gaze. And they don’t like everyone.

Linc stood and kept his eyes fixed on David’s face. Was there a wistful expression in those brown eyes? Was this drop-dead gorgeous handsome man interested in him after all? Nah, just wishful thinking on his part.

I have this power over children and small animals, Linc replied, laughing. They seem to trust me and know I mean them no harm, despite my size, don’t you, my lovelies. They don’t judge in the same way people do.

David chuckled. Don’t you believe it. Dogs may not judge you, but cats do. You know what they say—dogs have owners and cats have servants.

Well, Linc said, his gaze locked on David’s face. These two obviously have great taste. Warmth pooled in his chest and stomach, and Linc longed to reach over and touch any part of the man in front of him. I’d better get off. I’ll be here at two on Saturday. Feet. Move.

David opened the porch door, making sure the cats didn’t try to get out. Reluctantly, Linc moved. He closed the inner door and opened the outer one.

Bye, he said. At the end of the path, he turned and waved. He had a few days to plan the designs. Their next meeting couldn’t come soon enough.

CHAPTER 2

Later, David sat staring out into the garden. Blue tits flashed across the space, hunting food before they returned to one of the bird boxes up on the small tree in the corner. The local robin sat on the fence glancing around for any predator. The cats watched intently, their heads moving in unison as if watching a tennis match. David saw none of this—all he saw was the man who’d just visited him.

Only too aware of his own physicality, being over six-foot-tall with swimmer’s shoulders, as well as being of mixed-race in a town where minorities were few, he’d grown used to people making judgements about him all the time. His disability, however, always came as a shock, so good was he at hiding it. When anyone asked what he did for a living and he said librarian, most gazed at him as if he’d said astronaut or something equally unlikely in a small Norfolk town. But he loved his job. He loved the building he worked in, and the atmosphere. He loved the people who came in, from the regular older readers like Mrs McCreedy, who’d never become used to reading from a Kindle, and still insisted on real books as she called them, to the children whose parents brought them in the hope that a whole new world of excitement might open before their eyes. He loved working with the kids and had organised an after-school reading club. His voice caught the imagination of children and parents alike as he read excerpts from classic stories, both old and new.

He’d worked in the town library since qualifying. The pay was lousy, and they were regularly threatened with closure, but there he could share his love of books and music and offer shelter from the rain and cold to those who sometimes needed it. David understood his image in no way matched the realities of his life, and on top of that, he was gay—and lonely.

And now, into this existence had stepped Linc Woodhouse, whose size was more than a match for his own. Of the few relationships he’d had at university and library school, all his partners, if you could label them as such, had been smaller than him. His size had cast him in the role of protector—the spooner rather than the spoonee, if those were even real words—but here was a man who surpassed him in both height and girth, whose eyes shone with mischief and magic, whose confidence seemed to ooze out of every pore. Linc acted like a man at home in his own skin, and, if David wasn’t mistaken, by the way he’d gazed at him on the doorstep when he was all sweaty, not to mention the rainbow on his T-shirt, Linc was undoubtedly gay, or at least interested—and to add a cherry to the top of the cake, the cats had liked him.

The front doorbell interrupted his deliberations. He forced himself to move, opened up, and grinned at his brother, standing on the doorstep holding up a bag.

I come bearing lunch from our favourite deli.

So I see. You may come in.

Anyone seeing them together before they knew the circumstances, would wonder how on earth these two called each other brother. Chris was compact, several inches smaller than David, and built like the prop forward he’d been at university. Everyone had been surprised when, instead of taking a job in London, he’d returned to his hometown and joined the local solicitor’s practice he now headed. He’d married Rosie, his childhood sweetheart, and had two wonderful children. Their sister, Laura, owned and ran the deli in the high street.

David followed Chris into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of plates from the rack.

I’ve brought your favourite salad, Chris said, taking a seat. Not that I know what the hell quinoa is. I’m having a pasty. And I’ve brought a couple of Laura’s lemon cupcakes—the ones with the frosting.

David sat and sniffed the air. I love the smell of those pasties, but I can feel my arteries furring over merely by being in the same room.

His brother tucked into his food. You don’t know what you’re missing not eating these. Did this carpenter bloke come round then?

Yep, he came this morning, and he’s a craftsman not a carpenter. He’s coming back on Saturday afternoon with initial plans. He loved the idea.

I still think you’re mad to spend any of Gran’s money on your cats, but at least you used the rest to get this place, and no one could say you haven’t stamped your individual design on it.

David shrugged. They’d had this conversation before. "I know, maybe purple isn’t everyone’s idea of a kitchen colour, but I wanted something different from magnolia. The whole bloody house was painted with it—every wall. And grey is so dull. I swear every house on Homes Under the Hammer is now painted in various shades—grey is the new magnolia."

I’m not sure the colour matters really, Chris replied, not when you can’t see other walls for books. Oh, before I forget, when will you be getting your next litter of kittens? Rosie wants to know for school. Her class follows them.

Linc needs to tackle the house first, followed by the kitten room. I don’t want it to be too noisy for a new litter, and he’s going to have to knock through walls in places so Pixie and Dixie can move between rooms.

Those two are the most spoilt cats in existence. Chris glanced down. And you needn’t think staring at me will get you any of my pasty.

Two pairs of blue eyes stared back at him. I’m not intimidated by the pair of you. So, what’s he like then, this Linc? One of our customers showed me his work when I mentioned his name. She had photos of this dining table and chairs he’d made with little carvings all over and patterns cut into the top of the table—totally amazing.

David stared at his plate trying to decide how to describe Linc without giving too much away. His brother and sister had tried on numerous occasions to set him up with any gay man who crossed their radar. Jeremy had lasted a while, but that had been two years ago.

He’s certainly full-on, and a big guy too.

Chris angled his head in that way people and dogs did when they were curious. Bigger than you?

Oh yeah, taller, and well-padded. He has this amazing red hair, shaven t the sides but longer on top, and this unruly beard.

His brother grinned. Really? Sounds promising. You always did like a man with something to hang on to. Any photos on his website?

Heat rushed into David’s cheeks. Drunken confessions had a habit of returning to bite you on the backside.

I was checking out the section on sustainability on his website. He’s part of a tree-planting group, and I found this. David turned his laptop to show Chris.

"Bloody hell. You weren’t lying about the hair, and with those arms, he looks as if he should be wielding an axe and about to launch into a few verses of The Lumberjack Song."

David grinned, knowing Linc wasn’t afraid of wearing a dress. Anyway, even if he is gay, I’m sure I wouldn’t be his type. He’s into am-dram and is in the local panto playing the dame. He finished his salad, wiping his finger through the last of the dressing then glanced up to find Chris staring at him.

What? His brother had raised his eyebrows.

David frowned. Simply because a man wears a dress in pantomime doesn’t automatically mean he’s gay. You should know better, Chris.

Oh, come on—a big man—in dress and tights. Did the cats like him?

David couldn’t help but smile. If rolling around on their back for him to scratch their bellies is any indication, I’d say they liked him.

Maybe he could do the same for you then, if you roll over for him.

David spluttered out his drink. Now see what you’ve done. I don’t know why I tell you and Laura anything.

Because you love us, and we love you. Family doesn’t end with blood, as your favourite Winchester brothers would say.

Hmm, remind me never to tell you two anything ever again. David eyed up the lemon cupcakes figuring he could work it off. His obsession with keeping fit partly came from not having a clue about his genetics and having no idea of any medical history. He’d been so lucky the day Gary and Carol Rallison, both teachers, had decided to offer him a home. Not everyone would have chosen a two-year-old mixed-race child with a disability to adopt as their third child, but they said they’d fallen in love with him as soon as he smiled at them. They’d never needed to tell him he was adopted as it was obvious every time he stared in the mirror.

By the time he was a teenager, he’d towered over both of his parents and his siblings. Yes, he’d faced name-calling and prejudice at times