Borrowed Heart Read online

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  More from Andrew Grey

  Readers love Andrew Grey

  About the Author

  By Andrew Grey

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  Borrowed Heart

  By Andrew Grey

  Robin, the recipient of a brand-new heart, knows he can’t give it to just anyone….

  Robin’s been through his share of upsets recently, from heart transplant surgery to a brutal breakup. But his experiences have taught him life is short, and he’s ready to seize the day and start anew. A job at Euro Pride Tours is just the kind of adventure he’s looking for. He gets to see the world and live a little, but love isn’t on his radar screen. He isn’t sure his heart can endure that again.

  Johan might’ve disappointed his family by striking out on his own, but when he meets Robin, he has no intention of letting him down. Each man is just what the other needs to feel whole again, and while Johan might not be the man Robin originally thought he was, he’s exactly what the doctor ordered to make Robin’s borrowed heart beat faster. As the tour through Germany progresses, they grow closer, but when Robin’s ex joins the tour, he could bring their blossoming love to a dramatic halt.

  To Dominic, for all his help with the German travel details.

  Chapter 1

  LEAD. IT felt like a hunk of lead pressed down on his chest. What the hell it was there for, he had no idea.

  Robin cracked his eyes open. A cat sat in the middle of his chest, blinking slowly at him.

  “Schnitzel. What are you doing here?” Robin groaned, remembering he’d left the window open again. God, had he had that much to drink last night that he couldn’t remember getting into bed? Robin sat up, and Schnitzel jumped down and raced away. Though the old boy was the neighbor’s cat, he acted like he owned the place. He must have gotten out again. Poor Mrs. Kleindinst must be worried sick.

  “You don’t live here,” Robin said as the cat stopped just outside the sleeping area, blinking at him as though Robin were stupid. Maybe he was. Robin certainly needed to remember to stop at two glasses of wine. His mouth felt like someone had filled it with cotton and poured glue in to make sure it stayed that way for a damn long time.

  He walked around the screen that created his bedroom and out into the “everything else” area of his tiny Frankfurt apartment. Not that it bothered him. He could afford it, and the amount of space didn’t really matter so much because he was rarely there.

  Schnitzel yowled to voice his displeasure, and Robin scooped him up. Schnitzel turned to him, blinking a few times, doing his best to look pathetic and hungry. It didn’t work. The gray-and-white tiger cat weighed fifteen pounds and usually ate better than Robin.

  Still in his sleep pants and T-shirt, Robin carried Schnitzel across the hall and knocked quietly on the door. Mrs. K cracked it open, and Robin pushed the cat into her line of sight. She gasped and opened the door, filling the hallway with rapid-fire concern and even a touch of embarrassment in Frankish, a German dialect Robin still struggled to understand.

  “You come in. Have breakfast,” she said in heavily accented English. “You need. Too much beer.” She smiled, and Robin seriously considered taking her up on her offer. She was supremely kind to him, seeming to have adopted him in a way. Mrs. K didn’t have family as far as Robin could tell, or they never visited, which was even sadder as far as he was concerned.

  “I have to work today,” he said in High German, and she nodded, patting his cheek gently. “I’ll bring you some chocolate.”

  She smiled. Mrs. K had a real love of chocolate, so he always brought her back something unusual from his various tours.

  Robin padded back to his apartment, closed the door, and then stripped off his clothes. He squeezed into his tiny bathroom and ran water in the tub for a shallow bath.

  Twenty minutes later, he was dressed and had packed his things in a single, rather small bag. He’d gotten used to packing light. After all, he wasn’t the one on vacation. His basic work wardrobe of tan pants and a blue or white shirt with the Euro Pride Tours logo on the front didn’t take much space. Whether seven or eleven days, it was all pretty much the same. His extra shoes took up more space than anything else.

  Robin checked the clock and instantly wished he’d taken Mrs. K up on her offer. He prepared the apartment to be empty for a week and a half, turned off all the appliances, and made sure there was nothing perishable anywhere. Then he grabbed his jacket, locked the door, and walked down to the train station.

  “YOU MADE it,” Albert said as Robin entered the office, dragging his bag behind him as though it weighed a million pounds.

  “Yeah. I almost called and told you to find someone else.” He set the bag behind the desk and flopped down into one of the chairs Albert reserved for customers, but he didn’t care. “The train broke down in one of the tunnels.” Robin swore under his breath.

  “I heard about that,” Albert said, glaring but not asking Robin to move. There was no one in the office but them. “I have the details on your group.” Albert handed him a packet of information. “This one is mostly Americans. That’s why I gave it to you. Hopefully they won’t notice the grumps you’ve had for the last six months.” He flitted around behind his desk and sat. “What’s with you anyway? People go on vacation to be happy and have fun, not be led by Oscar the Grouch.” He smiled at his own little joke. “It’s your job to make sure they have fun.”

  Robin humphed. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. “I know. My groups always have fun.” And they did; Robin worked very hard to make sure of that.

  “Yeah, but when you think they aren’t watching, you….” Albert looked at Robin with his big cow eyes and wild blond hair, the epitome of style and fun. “Well, you look like that.” He pointed and waved his hands. “All scrunched up and sad. It’s depressing.”

  “When was the last time you got dumped?” Robin asked as he looked over the paperwork. Americans. God. Why couldn’t he have a nice group of British tourists? They were always so pleasant and usually wanted a no-stress, relaxing holiday. Robin craved people like that. Americans wanted to go, go, go and be entertained every second of the day. He sighed and closed the folder. At least this was a mixed group and not all gay men—sometimes that helped.

  “I never get dumped. I do the dumping when they get all clingy and needy and shit.” Albert batted his lashes, and Robin could see why. Guys would come running for his lithe little body and amazing eyes. He was German, but he’d spent years in the US, so he spoke English very well and loved Americanisms. “You need to give it a try.”

  “What?” Robin looked up from the itinerary he’d been reading.

  “Haven’t you been listening?” Albert asked testily. “I was saying that you need to get over whoever this guy was and get on with it.” He rolled his eyes like the drama queen he was. “Whoever this guy was… is… whatever… you kicked him to the curb, so find another one to make your engine purr.” He actually rumbled like some huge cat, and it was Robin’s turn to roll his eyes. “And not me.”

  Robin nearly fell out of the chair. “Please. You think every guy wants you.”

  “And most of them do. I work hard to keep things in top condition.” Albert stood, walked to the door, and turned like he was a model on a runway. He had style, there was no doubt about it, and he could play the young party boy even as he looked on in fear as forty approached the horizon. He sat back down,
the chair rolling a little as he did. “Enough about all this. Let’s talk about this tour, shall we?”

  “It’s what I live for,” Robin retorted, and Albert smiled.

  “That’s the spirit. Be funny. People like that.” He typed at his computer, and Robin tried to figure out what he’d done that was funny.

  “What’s this?” Robin asked, pointing to the sheet. “I have someone joining the tour late?”

  “You might. I have someone—he’s in Germany for a while—who was interested in the tour. He was going to join you in Würzburg Thursday evening. We don’t normally do that, but there’s space and, well….” Albert waved his hand, but Robin already knew the answer. Albert wasn’t going to turn down business, no matter what his own policies were. Money talked, and everything else was secondary. It was how Albert had managed to stay in business as a small tour operator when everyone else was either gobbled up by the big operations or simply went away.

  “All right. How will I know this guy?” Robin asked, grabbing a pen to make notes.

  “I’m waiting on his payment, which he was going to call in today. If he makes it, then he’ll meet you at the hotel where dinner is booked, so everyone will be there. He’ll ask for you. It shouldn’t be a problem. Just make sure he has a copy of my email, and everything will be fine.” Albert continued typing while they talked, and Robin jotted down the information.

  “Okay. Is there anything else I need to know?”

  Albert shook his head, already getting sucked into his work and forgetting about nearly anything else. “Just make sure they have a good time. These are gay tours, so for God’s sake, keep the gay in them. Make them happy. Take them to clubs in the evening. You have the list of the ones we work with. Just show them a good time. Think of yourself as a party planner as well as a tour guide.” Albert lifted his hands away from the keyboard, rocking to some music that only he could hear.

  Robin groaned inwardly. He’d taken this job because he thought it would give him a chance to get his feet under him again. His mom and dad wanted nothing more than for him to fly back to Milwaukee and tend the bar in the family German restaurant—just what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Not that he was all that much happier with what he was doing now, but at least he was on his own and taking advantage of his dual citizenship.

  “I have never planned parties. But I get your point and I’ll try.” He managed a smile. “When is everyone arriving?”

  “They’ll start getting here any time now. The bus will arrive at eleven.”

  “Who is the driver?” Robin asked. “It isn’t that Romanian guy who nearly killed us all, is it?” That had been a near disaster—no pun intended. Yuri had stayed up all night for some reason, and he’d fallen asleep behind the wheel and nearly driven them all off a cliff. Robin had taken over driving as well as guiding the group for the last two days.

  “No. I fired him. Your driver is Johan. He worked with you a few months ago, and to my surprise was willing to do it again.” Albert turned away, half hiding behind his computer screen. The coward.

  “What’s with that crap? I’m always good to my drivers.” Robin glared at Albert, who had the decency to blush a little. He was nice to them all, even Johan, who reminded Robin of Cousin Itt, with his loose hair nearly down to his butt and a thick black beard that would make Hagrid proud.

  “Yes, you make sure they are treated nicely, but you’re so dang depressed all the time. Poor Dieter, your last driver, is on a vacation of his own so he could get some sunshine and happiness. People do this job because it’s fun and makes them feel good. They want to be happy. You’re like a big, huge ball of sad.” Albert made a face like he’d just sucked a lemon. “So for God’s sake, try to be happy. Take some pills if you have to, please. You can’t keep going like this.”

  “Fine.” Robin grinned and stood to wander to the window. “I’ll be perky, chipper, and a bundle of happiness.”

  Albert pushed away from his desk. “Don’t go too far. I don’t want your head to explode. Just show them a good time and try to have one yourself. This is a great itinerary. You’re going to the baths in Baden-Baden, so take the time to go in yourself, get a massage.” Albert grinned wickedly. “Take Johan in with you and get him to give you a massage.” He fanned his face dramatically. “Just have fun, okay?”

  “Yeah.” Robin figured he could fake it for eleven days. Things couldn’t be that bad, and it was time he pulled his sorry ass out of the funk he’d been in. It was either that or go home and help his parents in the restaurant. “I’ll do my best.” Robin grabbed his folder and left the office, the outside door whooshing closed behind him as people began approaching.

  “Euro Pride Tours?” asked a huge young man with testosterone rolling off him. An older man approached behind him, pulling a large suitcase on wheels. The young guy rolled his eyes, set his own suitcase aside, hurried back, and took the older man’s bag. “Come on, Oliver.” He lifted the suitcase as though it weighed nothing, looking like he was about to burst out of the überthin, skintight shirt that showed every ripple of muscle. “Everything is going to be fine. This is the place.”

  “Then why did we have to walk eight blocks in the wrong direction first?” Oliver complained as he approached the office, breathing deeply.

  Oliver was white-haired and pale, even kind of frail-looking, whereas his companion was young, virile, tanned, and toned. Oliver wore a silk shirt that flowed and shimmered in the light breeze. His pants were linen, flowing over his thin legs, and the rings on his fingers sparkled in the sunlight. He clearly had money, and his partner… well, it didn’t take much imagination to understand the basic dynamics of their relationship.

  “This is Javier Montel, and I’m Oliver Justinian,” he told those already assembled.

  Javier stepped closer to Oliver, putting an arm around his waist to show they were together.

  “I’m Robin Fuller, and it’s a pleasure to meet both of you.” He shook their hands. “The bus will be here about eleven,” Robin explained as he ticked their names off his list and gave them both a boarding ticket. “If you like, you can go inside. There are a few chairs. Tag your luggage with these.” He handed over plastic rainbow luggage tags to both of them, and Oliver handed his to Javier immediately. “You can put your luggage against the building. I’ll stay out here to wait for more of our group.”

  “Go on inside and sit down, Oliver,” Javier said. “I’m going to stay out here in the sunshine.” He smiled, and Oliver shared a look with Javier that Robin wished he hadn’t seen. Then he went inside and sat down.

  “Are you looking forward to your vacation?” Robin asked.

  Javier stood away from the building on the sidewalk, looking up at the sky as the sun broke through the clouds. He was a stunning-looking man, and Robin turned away to review more of the folder. “Another day….” He shrugged, then stood still.

  Robin read the last of the details as a group of people approached. “Euro Pride Tours,” he said, and the group all smiled and nodded.

  A tall man in his midtwenties approached and shook Robin’s hand enthusiastically. “Grant Harcourt.”

  “I’m Robin Fuller.” He managed to pull his hand away before Grant shook his arm off. “Excellent. You can put your luggage there until the bus comes.”

  Grant stepped closer, still vibrating with excitement. “Will you be giving us a tour of Frankfurt?” He looked all around as though fascinated.

  “No. Frankfurt was nearly completely destroyed during the war, and there is little of historical interest left.” Robin turned to address the group. “Once the bus arrives—” He checked his watch. “—which should be soon, we’ll get set and boarded, and we’ll go directly to Würzburg.”

  “Oh, okay.” Grant fished a guidebook out of his worn messenger bag, opened it, and leaned against the building to read. Robin left him to it and turned to a pair of young men about college age.

  “Kyle North and Billy Thomas.” The taller of the two spo
ke for both of them, pointing as he said their names.

  Robin gave them their tags and boarding tickets.

  “Luggage over there?” Kyle asked, turning to the others. “He and I are best friends,” Kyle overexplained as he looked at Javier with barely disguised interest. Oliver came out and joined Javier, slipping an arm around his waist. Kyle turned away and talked with Billy.

  This was definitely going to be an interesting group.

  Two other couples joined them, Mary and Helen from Indianapolis, and Harold and Gerald from Texas. They joined the rest of the growing group of people, talking excitedly about their tour and what they hoped to see.

  A voice carried across the sound of traffic, followed by a blaring bus horn. Robin looked up as their bus lurched to a stop for two women racing across the street.

  “I told you to get up earlier.”

  “I thought we’d have plenty of time.” The women hurried up to where Robin stood as the bus pulled in. “Lily Martin,” one woman said with a nervous smile. “This is my friend Margaret Hansen.” Lily played with her nails nervously.

  “Welcome, ladies.” Robin handed them their tags as the tour bus pulled to a stop beside their group. “The driver will load the luggage when he’s done parking.” Robin checked over his group. They seemed nice enough and excited—well, all but Lily, who stood near Margaret almost defensively.

  “I don’t know why we had to go on a gay tour,” Lily said just loud enough that Robin was able to hear.

  “Because I’m a lesbian, and you said you wanted a nice, relaxing vacation without men. Well….” Margaret motioned around her.

  Robin turned away, smiling to himself. Okay, maybe he could be happy, or at the very least, less depressed and sad all the damn time. So he’d gotten dumped after five years. It was time to move on and get over it. He stood waiting until Johan had the bus parked, soaking in some of the energy of his tourists.

  The bus farted, which was what it always sounded like to Robin when the brakes released. Thankfully this was the smaller kind of bus that held about twenty people when fully loaded, though there was still plenty of space for everyone in the group to spread out. No wonder Albert had taken the extra fare. There was room, and he was paying for the bus, driver, and Robin, no matter how many people there were.