Page 23 of No Kind Words

“What? Kiss you? Because you were so nervous. I thought it might relax you. And I’ve been thinking about it for too many years. Was it wrong? Shouldn’t I have done it? You seemed to like it.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, I mean, yes, it was okay to do it. It surprised me, is all. A good surprise.” He straightens the knife next to his plate, taking his time choosing his words. “You seem to have it all worked out like nothing else matters. The last fifteen years just brushed away. I don’t know how you do that.”

“Because I want you. I want to see how great we can be together. Not many people get a second chance at love. We loved each other then. I want to see if we can love again. If it doesn’t work, at least we’ve tried.”

The waiter arrives, takes our drink order, and leaves us alone again.

“This wasn’t what I had planned for tonight. I thought it would be a good way to get to know each other again, to talk about our pasts. I wasn’t planning on being kissed.” Ben gives a wry smile and a dry chuckle. “But as always, you get straight to the point. You haven’t changed as much as you look.” He gestures to my jewellery and tats. “All this is new, but it suits you.”

I wondered when he’d get around to mentioning it. I can tease him with the hints of more to find under my clothes. With a tip of my head, I grin back. “There are more for you to find when you’re ready.”

Ben’s eyes go wide. If only I knew what he’s thinking. Is he interested? Maybe he has some for me to find. Before he can speak, our drinks arrive, something he looks relieved about. He’s going to be so much fun to tease, but not now, not yet. He’s right. We do need to know more about each other. As we both sip at our drinks—a lager for me and a red wine for him—we peruse the menu.

“What’s good in here?” I ask. It has seasonal food with plenty of fish, which all look amazing.

“Honestly, all of it. I’ve never had anything I didn’t love.” He bites on the corner of his lip as he reads the list of today’s dishes.

“What do you want to know?” I ask Ben after we’ve given our food order.

He’s quiet, but I can tell he’s thinking. How far back does he want to go? “I don’t know what to ask. We got through the shitty stuff on New Year’s Eve. You’ve told me that you want me, that you want to try this again, and I’ve spent the time since you left wanting the same thing. We were both stupid and held on to a grudge more than our feelings for each other. We should’ve been either together all this time or split up and have closure. What I’m saying is, do you want to find out which way it would’ve gone, or are you serious and want to make a relationship with me work?”

Okay, that wasn’t what I expected. I thought we’d be catching up on lost time. Telling tales of our past, the friends we have, and the antics we got up to. He’s right to ask, though. What’s the point of falling back into this if I’m only testing the water before jumping in? “I don’t know the answer to that, but I know above anything I want to start over. To have a chance at being with the man you are now. We’re both different. Not only to look at, but we also probably have secrets we don’t want to share. If I’d just moved here and didn’t know you, you’d be the man I was hitting on in the pub. You’re so totally my type. Add the fact that I also know what you look like naked, and it’s a win-win. I’ve seen you check me out too.” I waggle my eyebrows and laugh loudly when he blushes.

“Saved by the food.” He sighs in what looks like fake relief.

He’s right. I lay off any contentious topics. Instead, we talk about Hope. I tell him I reported the owner to both the police and the RSPCA. Not that they will be able to do anything, but it clears my conscience.

“I made Amy, one of my staff, the manager today,” he says. “I want to be around more for Hope. She can’t go into a commercial kitchen, and I’d rather be at home. I’ll go in a few times a week to bake and keep the freezer stocked. I’m going to enjoy the time off. I’ve worked there solidly since it opened.”

The food is as good as Ben claimed, and soon, we’re both full and ready to go. Ben takes the bill with a smirk. “You can pay next time.”

Outside, I reach for his hand again. This time, when his brain isn’t fried from me kissing him, he looks more hesitant. Then he smiles and takes it. “That wasn’t too hard, was it?”

“No, I’m just not used to it. I don’t think I’ve ever held hands with someone here.”

“Never? How? Haven’t you ever had a date in town or with someone on holiday?” How can he not have dated here?

“That’s not the same as being with someone long enough to want to hold hands. I’ve managed to keep my personal life out of the prying eyes of the people in town. I didn’t want to be the name on the gossipers’ lips and prefer my privacy. I like to be able to show my face in the café.”

“Even when everyone in town is watching us like hawks as if they know something is going to happen? Which is weird because where would that idea come from?”

“That may be all on your friend Maeve’s shoulders. She’s not subtle about wanting us to hook up. The only thing she’s left out is the time we had together before.”

“That woman is a bloody nuisance,” I say, but I laugh.

Trust Maeve to open her mouth.

As I pull up in front of his home, Jethro turns to me, a smile on his beautiful mouth. “I’ve had a great evening, Ben. It will be my choice next time.” He leans over the centre console and kisses my cheek. Before I can say a word, he opens the door and gets out. Speechless, I watch him walk up the gravel path to his front door.

What the fuck just happened?

Just as I put the car back in gear, he turns around, stomps back to the car, and pulls open my door. “I wanted to be good, to say goodnight, but I can’t. I don’t want the night to end yet. Come inside, Benny. Please.”

Should I go in? Do I want to? The answer to both is a resounding yes. Maybe not the most sensible decision, but I need to throw caution to the wind for once and do what my heart wants. And it wants him. I’m out of the car before I’m even aware of switching off the engine. He’s holding my hand again and striding rapidly up the path. He even manages to shuffle his keys and get the door unlocked and open with one hand. I’m impressed.

He practically drags me through the door and closes it with a solid thud. My back is against it, and his mouth is on mine. The kiss is bruising, punishing, and all-encompassing. I match his fervour with my own, grabbing his hips and pulling him closer, tighter to me. Just like at the car, he pushes his tongue into my mouth, licking over my own. He winds his fingers through my hair, tugging at the strands. It’s not painful, but the sharpness shoots straight to my aching cock, and I moan into his mouth. I slip my hands around his back and down to his stunning arse. As I squeeze the perfect, firm cheeks, he thrusts into me, rubbing up his dick to mine. Gone is the naïve, shy, eager-to-learn boy. Now I have a mature, experienced man who knows exactly what he wants, and at this moment, he wants to be inside my jeans. And god, I want him to touch me. Is it too soon? Are we rushing ahead? Yes, but I don’t care. I want him too much.

“Please, can I touch you?” He moves his hands to my waist, to the buckle on my belt, and tugs it open. His kiss doesn’t falter, his tongue as domineering as it has been the last few kisses. When he flips open the button and his fingers make quick work of my zip, he slides his hand into my briefs and wraps it around my desperate, aching, throbbing, needy cock. Involuntarily I thrust into his hand and moan in his mouth. I reach for his belt, but he shakes his head, biting down on my lip. Instead, I push my hands through his hair. The soft strands slip easily through my fingers as I stroke them.

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