Page 14 of No Kind Words (Calston Cove #3)

The afternoon goes slowly, like snail slow, paint-drying slow, and all because I want to get to Ben’s house and bloody throttle him.

The bloody, stubborn man.

I’ve got things to tell him about the pup he brought in, sad things, things I hoped he’d want to hear, seeing how devoted he was to wait through the operation.

Honestly, I thought he’d be on the doorstep as we opened.

I’m sure he will want to adopt her, even though she’s not going to be easy to look after, at least not to begin with.

The phone call to the registered owner went down like a lead balloon, even when I told him my opinion on how she got her injuries.

He said I couldn’t prove any of it and reiterated to have her euthanised.

My refusal pissed him off, so I said I would rehome her and put the phone down on him.

I can’t prove he ran her over on purpose, but I can make sure she never sees him again.

I could keep her myself; Isla won’t be jealous.

She’s always played nicely with other dogs. But that’s not where I think she should be. She should be with my very mulish ex-bloody-boyfriend.

At last, it’s time to close.

Maeve is on duty tonight and will be sleeping in the small on-call room I managed to squeeze into the corner of the building.

“Call me if there are any problems.”

“Will do. Have a good night.”

Maeve glares at me, her words weighed down with another meaning—go and speak to him.

I whistle for Isla and open the back door into the private parking area.

I look at my little cottage.

It’ll only be a week or so before I can move in.

Maeve has stayed in Ivan’s house.

They’ve come to an agreement over rent.

She seems settled, even in the middle of a wet and windy Devon winter.

The Scottish girl is happy in any kind of weather.

It’s her highland upbringing, she says.

When I get into my car, I crank up the heat, even though it’s only a five-minute drive to Ivan’s rental, but I hate being cold.

The high street is quiet.

Most of the stores are shut, but lights are on at a couple of restaurants and one just farther up, the one that belongs to Ben.

I didn’t realise he stayed open late.

I thought he’d close at five thirty like the other shops.

As I get closer, I see it’s empty.

I slow down.

The Closed sign is on the door.

So, why am I pulling over and stopping? I have no intention of going to the door, but memories of our conversations from too long ago come back.

His love of cooking, but he knew there wasn’t any way he could go to college to study.

His parents were old and needed him to help them out.

It was why he worked at the supermarket; he had set hours that fitted around his home-life commitments.

They must be long passed.

Is that how he ended up fulfilling his dream? I doubt I’ll ever know if I don’t make a move to speak to him.

Last night was hard enough, and then my mind was on the job, and I had Maeve around.

I could smell him, the rich cinnamon and spicy scent that was always him.

It made my heart race and my skin prickle with goosebumps.

It was shocking how quickly I reacted to him, that my body remembered him so acutely.

How much I wanted him.

The pedestal I put him on when I left was my downfall.

No man stood a chance at anything serious with me.

No one matched the way my body sang for Ben.

So why didn’t he contact me? I left the letter for him with my mum.

I trusted her not to say anything to my father and pass it on.

The lights in the café go off, and the door opens.

I stay rooted in my seat as Ben locks up, then, with the collar of his coat turned up, walks away.

On autopilot, I put the car back in gear and follow him.

He doesn’t notice me until he stops at a corner, checking around for any traffic.

Our eyes lock, and he takes a step back from the kerb, looking like he’s going to change direction.

Before he can, I open the window.

“Ben, wait.”

“What do you want?”

he asks. I want to roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of the question. What does he think I want?

“To talk. I’d like to talk to you. It’s been too long.”

I’ve had enough of staying away. The town is too small for us to be apart. We share the same group of friends, for god’s sake. I get that he doesn’t want anything from me, that we’re not the same people we were fifteen years ago, but I’d like to get to know him again. There’s no reason we can’t be friends.

“Why? Why now? You’ve been back here for well over a month and didn’t want to talk. Not even when I brought the dog to you.”

He hasn’t moved from the pavement to get closer to my car nor made any eye contact with me.

“Please, Ben. Why don’t you get in, and we can go somewhere to talk?”

It’s a risky request, but I’ve got nothing to lose. “We can go back and see the dog. She’s recovering well, much quicker than I expected.”

I’m not playing fair, and we both know it, but I may get a chance with him by tempting him with the dog.

“I doubt we have anything to say to each other, Jethro. Or is it Jet now? It’s been fifteen years. Fifteen years with no contact. I don’t know anything about you or you me. What the hell would we have to talk to each other about? Good night, Jethro.”

With that, Ben crosses the road and carries on his way home.

As much as I want to follow him, I don’t. I’ve pushed my luck to the end tonight. There will be other times.

“Are you ready for this?”

Drew dangles a set of keys at me. He’d called me this afternoon to tell me it was all finished. The little house was ready.

“I am. I can’t believe you got it all done so quickly.”

It had taken a little over five weeks, and while I’ve had a few walk-throughs with him, I haven’t seen it all cleaned up and fitted out. The new furniture is in, and the few things I had sent down from Scotland have been put in place.

“Merrick said he’d have my balls on a platter if I didn’t have it finished before the party. You are coming, right?”

Drew grins. I quickly worked out that Drew was happily at the beck and call of his partner and his daughter.

I take the keys from him. “I wouldn’t miss it. Maeve has been talking about it for days. She’s been constantly texting the other girls as they organised their wardrobes.”

“I’ll see you later, then. Let me know if there are any niggling issues.”

As he walks back to his truck, I open the door. The smell of fresh paint and newly laid carpets greets me. I smile. This is the first home I own. The others have been rented or came with the job. I never in a million years imagined it would be back in Calston Cove. The fact that I’m happy here surprises me even more. To have rekindled friendships has made it all so much easier.

Except for the one person.