After the Scrum by Dahlia Donovan

Rupert's green eyes were shrewd as always. He tossed a copy of the tabloid onto the nearby desk. "What have you been up to, young Francis? And how could you have kept it from me? I thought you cared."
    "Easily. You gossip more than the entire village." Francis picked up the paper and swatted him on the head with it. He had to admit they made a handsome couple. "Did you come for the sole purpose of driving me to the brink of insanity? Or something more?"
    "Mostly." Rupert picked a small airmail envelope out of his pocket then handed it over to him. "Graham's arriving tomorrow. Come for supper? Bring the Brute."
    " Rupert. "
    "Joanne will cry if you don't." Rupert clutched his hands to his chest, sinking to the floor on his knees. He crawled over to him, wailing dramatically. "Save me from my woman's tears, sweet lad."
    "Get off the floor, you overacting prat. How your wife puts up with you, I have no idea." Francis dodged away from his friend's kick. "I will attend your repast and force myself to deal with your insufferable company. Joanne owes me a massive slice of her treacle tart for this."
    "You secretly adore me."
    "Like a pimple on my arse." Francis ignored the laughing buffoon and began organizing the first of the antiques. He waited until Rupert had settled down to speak gain. "Will the tabloids cause trouble for Caddock?"
    Rupert turned serious for the first time. "He'll rip them apart if they even think about harassing you."
    "What am I doing? He is so far out of my league." Francis gave up pretending to catalogue his finds. He set the candlestick in his hand down and ran his fingers tiredly through his hair. His chest tightened painfully at the thought of letting Caddock go. "What am I doing?"
    "Being a class-A moron?" Rupert strode across the cramped space to wrap his arm around Francis's shoulders. "Now all the shite you just said sounds far more like Trevor talking than you. I wish you'd let me and Graham handle the tosser."
    He had a point, though Francis wouldn't tell him. The world would be a much better place if his ego were deflated ever so slightly. He had no doubts it wouldn't last.
    "Go away." Francis glared at him. "Seriously, don't you have properties to sell and souls to damn to hell?"
    "Now, now, no need to get testy because you know I'm right." Rupert let go of him and started for the door. "Our place, tomorrow at seven. Bring the Brute, Sherlock, and the little Devil. Oh, and I left a file on your desk for a new client."
    "Prat."
    Rupert left without responding. Typical. Supper with his gran this evening, then tomorrow with the Hodson family… it would be an interesting two days. It felt far too soon to have to deal with all of this.
    Then there was the pink elephant in the room. Graham. How would seeing his best mate after years go? They'd left ongoodterms, but distance hadn't helped them remain close.
    Shaking off old memories, Francis wandered over to the boxes on the floor. He'd gone through two with five left to go when his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Five knocks, to be exact.
    " Fwannie! "
    An exuberant child bolted towards him when the door was opened. Only Caddock's hand shooting out to grab him kept Francis on his feet. He carefully lifted Devlin up into his arms.
    He heard all about the peas and carrots—"ew gross"—eaten in order to see him. "Vegetables are good for you."
    Devlin frowned at him with all the seriousness of youth. "Did you hitted your head, Fwannie? Sometimes Uncle Boo acts funny and says it's 'cause he hit his head."
    "My head is perfectly fine." Francis smiled at the lad while trying not to glare at Caddock whose shoulders shook with his attempt to conceal his laughter. "You'll understand when you're older."
    "Like with kissing?" Devlin looked up at them both with wide-eyed innocence. "Gwannie said so."
    Both men choked slightly. They shared an amused smile. Between child and dog, there was certainly no shortage of entertainment.
    "Yes, Devil, just