Just-You Eyes

By Clare London

Just a one night stand - or something more?

Elliot didn’t know that offering to help his sister get over her broken love affair would mean attending a speed-dating evening at the local hotel in their quaint English town.
Obviously, as a gay man, he’s not the target group, and there’s nothing for him there except cheap wine and uncomfortable chairs. But when hotel manager Alexsy sits down opposite him and offers an evening of a very different kind than Elliot expected, Elliot’s tempted to try something for the very first time in his life...
The tantalising adventure of a one-night stand.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clare London
• Release date: Nov 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005378790

Clare London

Clare took the pen name London from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with the weekly wash, waiting for the far distant day when she can afford to give up her day job as an accountant. She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic and sexy characters.Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter 3 stage and plenty of other projects in mind . . . she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.All the details and free fiction are available at her website. Visit her today and say hello!Join up for her newsletter at http://bit.ly/2WpHlyK and receive a free short story!Clare also writes as Stella Shaw and launched her Love at the Haven series of rent boy romances in 2021.Website + blog: http://www.clarelondon.com / stellashawauthor.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/clarelondonTwitter: https://twitter.com/clare_londonGoodreads: http://bit.ly/2lNSfC2Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/clarelondonBookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/clare-londonInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/clarelondon11/Quids&Quills: http://www.quidsandquills.com (accountancy for UK authors)

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JUST-YOU EYES

Copyright ©2011 Clare London

Published by Jocular Press 2019

This book was previously published by Dreamspinner Press 2011

Smashwords edition

All Rights Reserved

This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee. Such action is illegal and in violation of Copyright Law.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

All trademarks are the property of their respective owners.

Blurb and Dedication

Elliot didn’t know that offering to help his sister get over her broken love affair would mean attending a speed-dating evening at the local hotel in their quaint English town.

Obviously, as a gay man, he’s not the target group, and there’s nothing for him there except cheap wine and uncomfortable chairs. But when hotel manager Alexsy sits down opposite him and offers an evening of a very different kind than Elliot expected, Elliot’s tempted to try something for the very first time in his life…

The tantalising adventure of a one-night stand.

Many thanks to Jean M for encouraging me to republish this favourite of mine, a very British, very romantic story.

INDEX

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

More by Clare London

About Clare London

CHAPTER 1

The busy function room was getting hotter by the second, and the strong scent in the air was unpleasantly persistent, rather like the smell of drains after heavy rainfall, though more palatable, thank God. I guessed someone had been over-enthusiastic with the Spring Breeze air freshener. It was obviously cheaper than providing fresh flowers—and probably avoided any problem with the guests’ allergies—but the artificial tang wasn’t as refreshing. In the background, a sentimental, instrumental music soundtrack played. Now that’s what I call Elevator Music, I reckoned.

I glanced quickly at the couple of tables nearest to mine, both of them set up a similar way, with two chairs and two people seated opposite each other. There was a generous amount of space between each arrangement tonight, and discreet screens set across the room to give a small amount of privacy for each. The air hummed with a mix of tension and anticipation. Over the general hubbub of conversation I heard a couple of over-loud voices, and more than a few giggles.

I bit back a sigh. My shirt collar was too tight, but I didn’t dare loosen my tie, let alone the top button. My formal lace-up brogues hurt too. I hadn’t worn them since my cousin’s wedding the previous summer, and they were still on the new shoes warpath. Dammit, if I’d ignored Effie’s sisterly nagging tonight and worn my comfortable boots as usual, I wouldn’t be walking across the room like Quasimodo every time I took a toilet break.

And if I’d ignored her plea for moral support, I wouldn’t be here at all, would I?

I coughed, my throat dry. Too many people in too small a space, and I’d finished the water they provided. Was this an appropriate time to ask for more? I glanced quickly at the tabletop. The glass of complimentary, lukewarm white wine to my left was still half-full, and the small notepad on my right was painfully bare of notes. A Hallmark-type teddy bear at the corner of the top sheet clutched an oversized pencil, the illustration simpering Join in the fun!

I mentally shook my head. I’m not exactly your demographic, you know. The heat in the room made my neck itch, even though I kept my beard clipped short. I also had an overwhelming desire to look at my watch, but I knew that would be really rude. To say nothing of the fact I’d looked only two minutes ago. And meanwhile there was a woman sitting opposite me, chatting animatedly about her dog. Puppy, actually. And its rather graphic medical problems.

The whistle blew, and I drew in a deep breath.

Bye, the woman simpered. She didn’t look upset to see me go: she was already peering at the man on the table to the right of us.

With a by-now familiar clatter, half the guests pushed their chairs away from the tables and stood, including me. The noise was almost painful. I tried not to wince openly, but dreaded to think what damage was being done to the parquet floor by all this activity.

It was Date Night at the Inn, a fairly prestigious hotel in the middle of town, and one of Totnes’ local landmarks. It had hosted most of the town’s business events and parties over the years, as one of the only venues with public rooms large enough for the job. Totnes was essentially a small West Country town, as even the tourist information blurb said. That was its charm, though also its limitation. We had a riverside location, a castle (also small), and as the writer Thomas Westcote had said in the 1600s, pleasant soil, fruitful country, and healthful air. As many local inhabitants cheerfully said, what more could anyone ask for?

The Inn had kept many of its original, seventeenth-century features, though the hotel guests had demanded more modern facilities over the years. There was a large fireplace at the far end of the room, though not lit tonight, thick russet-coloured carpet, and goblet-shaped lights mounted on the walls. I knew they were attached to totally modern fittings, but the Olde Worlde illusion was attractive. This evening, as the hours passed, the staff had closed the heavy curtains that covered the large picture windows, letting the thick velvet fabric sweep the floor with its braided hem. Many of the guests had smiled and sighed at the sight, entering into the spirit of a byegone era.

The shuffle of many footsteps on the floor brought me back to attention. I walked