Page 120 of In at the Deep End

It was then Matt noticed the bowls on the patio table. They were filled with packets of lube and condoms.

He smirked. “Are you expecting a busy evening?”

Owen laughed. “Not necessarily. Some of my friends are in open relationships. Some are single. Some might decide they’d like some… private time together. I’d rather they had what they needed than took risks.”

Matt shook his head. “That is so you.” Owen cocked his head, and he smiled. “A well-prepared host.”

“I try.” Owen peered at his watch. “We’ve got about an hour before the first arrivals.” He grinned. “Officially, anyway. Unofficially, they’ll start drifting in about fifteen minutes from now. FOMO is a terrible affliction.” He looked Matt up and down. “Did you bring a change of clothes?”

Matt chuckled. “What—you don’t want me at your party in my tiniest shorts?”

Owen narrowed his gaze. “I’ve already spent one afternoon failing to read a book because of those shorts.”

“So the problem isn’t the shorts—it’s me.”

He sighed dramatically. “I’m afraid the evidence is mounting.” Another glance at their surroundings. “I was hoping people might remember the garden.”

Matt laughed. “You’re saying I’m stealing its thunder?”

“I’m saying the hydrangeas never stood a chance. One look at you, and half my guests will forget my name.”

Matt blinked innocently. “Because of my shorts?”

Owen bit his lip. “Among other distractions.”

Matt had to laugh then the first guests arrived exactly forty-three minutes before the official start time.

Owen opened the front door and pointed at his watch. “You’re early.”

“We’re experienced,” the taller of the two men replied, stepping inside with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cheesecake in the other. “Never trust a host who says, ‘There’s plenty of food.’”

“There is plenty of food.”

He narrowed his gaze. “So you say.”

Owen rolled his eyes and accepted both offerings. “Matt, this is Ian and Marcus.”

Matt shook hands.

Marcus looked him up and down before smiling warmly. “You’re the gardener.”

Matt blinked. “How do you know that?”

“Owen’s been talking about you for weeks.”

Owen groaned. “I have not.”

Ian laughed. “Pants. On. Fire.”

Matt glanced at Owen, who suddenly seemed fascinated by the cheesecake.

“Oh dear. Have I become one of your stories?”

Before Owen could get a word out, Marcus interjected, “You’re practically a recurring feature.”

After that, people kept arriving.

Friends wandered through the side gate with bottles of wine tucked beneath their arms. Someone arrived balancing two enormous bowls of homemade pasta salad. Another couple apologised for being ‘terribly late’ despite being ten minutes early.