“Through Maeve, Jethro. You sent Luke, for god’s sake.” I sigh. It’s been a long day. The food for the party took its time to get set up and ready, not to mention having the coffee shop running smoothly. I need to leave. It’s not like we’re going anywhere. “I should go.”
Disappointment floods his face. “Okay, I’ll come to see you tomorrow.” He checks his watch and smiles. It’s a much more grown-up smile than the sweet, shy ones he used to give me. It suits him. “Or in the morning. Happy New Year, Ben.”
“Happy New Year, Jethro. Sleep well.”
Years of early mornings have stripped away my ability to sleep in, but I can appreciate staying in bed long past a decent time to get up. The image of the poor little dog comes back to me. If she comes to live with me, the days of long lie-ins will be over. The thought makes me smile. It also brings back yesterday’s events and the conversations with Maeve and, more importantly, with Jethro. Will he be here soon, or will he have changed his mind? We didn’t talk of love or even getting back together. Missing each other is a good place to start, but after this long, are we compatible? I doubt he’s the meek, eager, and compliant lover he was at eighteen. He has experienced the world and all it has to offer. His appearance—the tattoos and piercings—give off an edgy confidence and a sexiness I never thought I’d find attractive, but damn, I do. I want to find out what else he’s hiding.
With my second cup of coffee drained, I get out of bed and go for a shower, but before I can get under the spray, the doorbell chimes.
“Crap.” I wrap my bathrobe around my body and rush out of the bathroom and downstairs. The wind is howling, and the rain is hammering against the windows. Whoever is out there is getting soaked. When I pull open the door, Jethro is shielding the little dog in his arms from getting battered about in Devon’s glorious winter weather. Instead of gawping at him, I usher him in.
“What are you doing here?” I close the door behind him.
“I said I’d come and see you, and you wanted to know when you can have this little maidie.” He looks up and down my body. “Have I got you out of bed?”
“Shit, my shower is still running.” I dash back up the stairs. Once the shower is off, I grab some sweats and a hoodie and pull them on. I wasn’t comfortable being naked under a bathrobe. As I jog back downstairs, he’s talking quietly to the dog. I can’t make out the words, but I smile. Should I be happy about him being here? I’ll have to wait and see why he’s come before I decide.
When I join them, his eyes darken. Oh shit, I’ve made the situation so much worse by free-balling it under my sweats. “Stop looking at me like that,” I grumble, but I like knowing he likes what he sees. I’ve done as much as I can to look after my health and body, but being a baker doesn’t make it easy.
“I thought you couldn’t be sexier than you were at twenty-five, but I’m wrong. You’re even hotter now.”
My cheeks warm at his words. I’m not able to reply because if we start complimenting each other, we could rush into something I’m not ready for. Instead, I drop to my knees next to the little pup he has settled on the rug and stroke her head. “Is she ready to be here?”
She’s still bandaged up, and her leg is in a cast. “Can she walk? Is she allowed to?”
“She’s okay to move around inside, but she can’t do stairs or anything like that, plus slippery floors are a no. Her X-rays are looking good. I’ve said it before, but you saved her life. She would have bled out and perished under that hedge.”
“Don’t. I can’t bear the thought. Do you really think she’s better off with me than with maybe a family, someone at home all the time?”
He shakes his head. “She’s chosen you.”
He’s right. Her head is on my lap, and her tail’s wagging frantically. “Okay, she stays. I’ll need to think of a name for her.” She looks up at me with big brown eyes. I snap my fingers. “Hope. I think that suits her.” She licks my hand approvingly.
“That’s settled, then. I’ll bring all her things in from the car. Put the kettle on, Ben.”
Both the dog and I watch Jethro walk out. My gaze is on his tight arse in the well-fitting, snug, ripped-at-the-knee jeans. I’m doomed. I still want him as much as I did when I was twenty-five. The difference is that this time around, I’m more than aware of his ability to break my heart.
I scratch the back of Hope’s ear and let out a sigh. “I’d better go and make us something to drink.” I wander into the kitchen, thinking about what I’ve got to offer for breakfast. There’s bacon and the fixings for French toast, so I pull all the ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards. The front door closes with a solid thud, probably the wind helping it shut, followed by something being dropped. Jethro is back.
His footsteps approach the doorway. When I turn around, my heart beats faster. The easy, relaxed way he leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and his ankles crossed, he looks like a model on one of those romance book covers. The tatted bad boy who will break every heart in the book and that of the readers too. “Whatcha doing?”
Telling him I’m ready to drop to my knees and pull his cock from his tight-as-fuck jeans may not be a good idea. “I thought I’d make us something to eat.”
Yep, that will have to do for now.
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.