Page 18 of No Kind Words (Calston Cove #3)

Turning up with the young dog in my arms is blackmail on both counts.

First, to get him to keep her, and second, to let me in his house.

The sight of him in a dark blue towelling bathrobe sets off every nerve in my body singing, and I’m desperate to touch him.

To pull him close to my body.

Will he feel the same as he does in my memory and my dreams? He looks fit and firm.

His age has only made him more handsome.

The small crow’s feet by his eyes and the slight greying of his blond hair at his temples accentuate his good looks.

While he escapes upstairs to turn off his shower, I place the dog on the rug by the unlit fire.

I glance around the cosy room.

The soft cream with navy striped sofa looks incredibly comfortable, a place to snuggle up in, the fire burning, and a book from the large, packed bookcases.

My perusal of his life halts as he returns to the room.

He wears black sweats and a hoodie.

His feet are bare, and fuck me, it looks like he’s naked underneath the soft brushed cotton.

When he notices where I’m looking, he blushes a gorgeous rose pink.

With ease, I get the conversation back on track and have him agree to adopt the newly renamed Hope.

I grab the bag of food and meds from my truck and tuck the soft, padded bed she’s been resting on under my arm.

When I come back in, the room is empty, but the clink of rattling pots and pans comes from the open doorway.

“Whatcha doing?”

I lean on the doorframe.

The look he gives me does nothing to hide the flare of lust in his eyes. The blush from earlier reappears. “I thought I’d make us something to eat.”

He trips over the words and turns back to the ingredients laid out on the counter.

“Really? Thanks, Ben. I’m starved. I’ve not had anything to eat yet.”

All because I’ve been too busy fretting over what to do and how to proceed.

I know for sure that I want to be with him again, but he’s like a nervous horse, one that’s been hurt and neglected all its life.

Too wary to trust me.

I know he’s incredibly successful and well liked, that his skittish behaviour is only around me.

Therefore, it’s up to me to make it right.

He wants me.

I can see it.

I can still feel him deep inside me.

He’s changed, though.

He no longer gives off the possessive top vibe, the one that would have me instantly hard and begging for his hands on me.

I’ve changed too.

I went to university angry, so angry, after I’d had everything stripped from me, and I wanted control of my life and my body.

The first tattoo, the first piercing, and the first time I topped. I loved all of it.

I kept the mess of scars on my back covered.

It took me years to be comfortable naked with a lover, not so much out of shame but because I only wanted hook-ups.

Anything more hurt too much.

I wanted Ben, but he hadn’t come.

He didn’t want me.

Hook-ups didn’t feel like cheating.

It wasn’t true, of course.

It was another lie I told myself.

“It’s only French toast with some berries, and I’m doing some bacon.

I don’t know if you prefer sweet or savoury.”

“I’ve heard rave reviews about your breakfasts, especially the French toast. Maeve says she’s put on a stone since she got here.”

“Maybe I should put up a disclaimer—zero responsibility for any weight gain.”

He grins at me, the first genuine smile he’s given me. He seems to realise the easy-going attitude and turns back to the stove and the sizzling pans.

He doesn’t say anything else, and I’m more than happy to observe him move confidently around, looking like he’s doing half a dozen things at a time. He’s effortlessly talented. It’s easy to stay quiet and just watch.

With another smile, a smaller one this time, he instructs me to get the cutlery. “It’s in the top drawer over there.”

He nods toward the drawers.

Obediently I follow his instructions and grab the knives and forks as he pulls out plates from a small warming oven on the range cooker. When everything is set on the table, we sit on opposite sides to each other. Ben busies himself serving me. He looks like he’s trying to avoid any questions, but me being me, I’m not going to let him get away with it.

“How did the café and the catering come about? I know you loved cooking, but I didn’t think it was something you were able to pursue.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, I could slap myself. How stupid can I be? He didn’t go to college because he had to care for his parents.

He doesn’t seem to mind. “There was no way I was leaving, even when your father threatened me with just about everything he could. I stayed because my parents needed me. And after, when they both passed, which was in a few months of each other, I did my catering and bakery courses. When the shop came up for sale, I bought it. That was over a decade ago. I love it. It suits me.”

I can see how much he loves his work, and after the first mouthful of his French toast, I know what all the fuss is about. “Oh my god, Ben, this is delicious. I get it now.”

Ben smiles but doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he eats his breakfast too.

When we’re finished and he’s collected the plates, he points towards the living room.

“Can we go through all the dos and don’ts for Hope? It’s been years since I had a pet.

I think I was about fifteen or sixteen years old when our family dog died.”

This must be his way of rounding up my visit.

After this, he’ll tell me to find my way home.

While it stings, I’m aware I’ve got to take baby steps with him.

It’s all about proving that I’m serious about getting to know him again, that I’m not going anywhere.

He’s like a skittish stray that doesn’t know whether he can trust the hand being held out to him.

“Sure, I’ve got a printout of her medication, mainly low-dose painkillers, but that can change depending on her mobility.

You’ll have to bring her in to have her cast removed, and I’ll get Maeve to show you how to clean up some of the sore spots.

There are some instructions about what she can and can’t do regarding her mobility. There’s not much to it. A lot of it is common sense.”

A wry smile is playing on his lips.

“And you had all this ready before you turned up on my doorstep.

Were you that confident I would take her?”

“Honestly? I wanted a way to come and see you.

You left with plenty unsaid last night.

I told you how much I missed you, that I wanted you, came back here for you.

You didn’t say anything back.”

Ben sighs and walks into the living room.

I follow him.

He’s got to have something to say about this, about us.

He sits on the floor, Hope’s head on his thigh, and combs his fingers through her hair, just as he did last night.

I lower myself on the opposite side of the dog.

“I don’t know you anymore, Jethro.

You’ve changed so much.

You have an edge about you that was never there.

It makes the relationship we had before such a piece of the past, almost as if it happened to someone else.

Over time, I’ve forgotten how much you would change.

You were barely a man the last time we were together.

You’re a different person now, and I’m not.

I don’t have anything to offer you. You don’t need me, not the way you used to.”

Of all the things I thought he would say, I never imagined it would be this.

Does he think so little of himself? How exciting the thought of getting to know each other again will be? “Don’t you think learning all the new things about each other is exciting? Whatever you think about yourself, you’re wrong.

Yes, you’ve changed.

You’re this new hotter version of yourself.

I can’t believe you’re not married.

I like what I see, Ben.

I want to know you, this version of you.”

“What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean?”

Does he think I’ve got some ulterior motive?

“I don’t know if you want us to get back together as if nothing ever happened. Or what? Friendship? Because I’ve got enough friends.”

I push myself up onto my feet. “I want it all, Ben, or Benny, or whatever you go by now. I want every fucking bit of you. And when you’re ready to get to know me again, you know where to find me.”