Page 18 of No Kind Words

Is there any point in putting this off? We can’t carry on like this, with me avoiding him for the rest of our lives. He’s here for good, and I’ll never leave. It’s a can of snakes instead of worms we’ll be opening, and both of us will be hurt by the words we say. After fifteen years, there won’t be many kind words, but I want to hear him out. I’ve had enough of burying my head in the sand, although I doubt what Maeve has said. I don’t think there’ll be anything between us except maybe friendship. Can I live with that? I won’t know until we try.

Before I can speak, Amy appears in the doorway. “There you are, Benny. We need more salmon canapés. Have you got any in your car?”

I fish my keys out of my pocket. “They’re in the large cooler.” I hand her the keys but change my mind. “Never mind. I’ll come with you. We can get the rest out.”

“Ben?” Jethro says with a croak in his voice. “Please?”

“Yes, but when the party is over. An hour tops.”

Amy looks from me to Jethro and back to me. She pales, which means the whole town knows there’s something going on between us. “Give me the keys, Benny. Luke and Maddie can help me. We’ve got this. Go.” She shoos me away. “Talk to Jet.”

Does everyone call him that now? As much as I hate to admit it, it does suit this new edgy version of the young man I used to know. And that’s it. That’s the crux of the matter: I’m trying to avoid the man I used to know.

“Okay, call me if there are any problems. Can you drive my car back to the shop?”

Amy rolls her eyes. There’s no way she’s going to interrupt this. In fact, I could probably sell tickets for the show. “Sure, boss.”

I turn to Jethro. “Lead the way.”

“I apologise for the smell of wet dog.” I open the doors of my Landrover. “Isla is a demon for the sea.”

“Don’t worry about it.” There’s a nervous tremor in his voice. He gets into the passenger seat but doesn’t make eye contact as he buckles his seat belt.

“Your place or mine?”

“It doesn't matter.”

I shove the keys into the ignition and lean back in my seat, turning my head to face him. “Look, is it really this hard to talk to me? Do you hate me that much? I can drop you off at your home, or you can get out right now. I’m not going to force this. If I’ve got it all wrong, tell me now, and I won’t bother you again.”

He finally glances at me, and it looks a lot like fear staring back at me. “No, it’s okay. We should do this.”

“This isn’t easy for me either, you know.”

We drive back in silence. I’m trying to work out how to start or where to start. I expect he’s doing the same thing. I pull up alongside the cottage, and Ben looks surprised. “What?”

“Huh, oh, nothing. I didn’t know you’d moved in. I thought you were still staying at Ivan’s.”

“It’s only been a few days. You’ll have to excuse the boxes. Drew did an amazing job. That man has serious talent when it comes to seeing what a building can become.”

As I open the door, Isla and the injured dog bark enthusiastically. My lab reaches me first, but the girl is behind her, the bandaged leg causing her tardiness.

“You kept her?” At the sound of Ben’s voice, the little dog woofs excitedly and wriggles her whole body as she directs her focus on the man who saved her. “She remembers me?” The wonder in his words squeezes my heart.

“It looks like it, and I’m only fostering her while she still needs treatment.”

“You said you found her owner. Don’t they want her back?” Ben crouches on the hallway floor and pets the little dog. “What breed is she?”

“I think she’s a labrador crossed with a Staffordshire bull terrier. And as for the owner, I have reason to believe he’s responsible for her injuries.”

This is going better than I could’ve hoped. The tension between us has vanished as his focus has switched to the dog. “What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have one. I thought it would be best to wait for her new owner to name her.” If I get my way, he’ll be taking her home with him.

Ben runs his hand softly over her face, smoothing the scar above her eye. The stitches came out a few days ago. She’ll never get the hair to grow back over the scars. “When is she ready to go?”

“Do you want her? I think she’ll do well with you. She obviously likes you.” I join him on the floor.

“I do. I think we’ll be good together. I need to sort my life out a bit before I can take her, though. Work stuff. I pretty much spend all my time at the bakery.”

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