Page 14 of Animal Instincts
“I swear to god the bloke hadn’t even looked at my CV before he sat me down in front of him. His phone rang twice, he kept calling me Ross, and as for the advertised accommodation, it was a converted stock room for which a ‘nominal’ rent would be charged — if a third of the salary can be called nominal.”
Joss slumped against the counter and looked out over the café, busy mostly with young mothers with babies in buggies, meeting up after taking older children to the village school. A burst of laughter erupted from the Community Room, where the weekly gathering of Knit and Natter, or Stitch and Bitch as Declan called it, were meeting. They were a friendly bunch of pension aged ladies, more recently joined by an older male couple. Joss caught Declan’s eye, and they both smiled.
“Don’t know who’s worse.” Declan jerked his head. “The literary lovies or the randy old grannies. The last time I looked after the old girls, I kept getting my arse pinched. Maybe I was wrong to send Mitch in — they’ll eat him alive.” Declan sniggered, and Joss didn’t think he looked or sounded like he thought he was even a little bit wrong.
“The newbie’s got to learn that in this place being a café assistant is hazardous work.”
It was the new recruit’s first week and he’d emerged from the Community Room, after delivering the first wave of teas, coffees, and toasted teacakes, with a wide-eyed look of horror. He’d also been rubbing his bum. Mitch had gone off on his break, and Joss wondered if he’d come back.
“Look, don’t get too despondent. I get that you’re keen to experience more of the world than Love’s Harbour, but I know from hard experience the grass isn’t always greener out in that there city.” Declan deliberately broadened his soft Devonian accent.
“I realise that, but the village is all I’ve known. I just want to try something different, somewhere different. That isn’t a crime, is it?”
“No, of course it’s not.”
Declan threw a muscled arm around Joss’ shoulders. Pulling him into a hard hug, he almost lifted Joss off his feet. Although only in his early thirties, Declan had a whole lifetime’s more experience. He’d lived in London and Manchester, and abroad. Yet, Declan had returned to the village he’d been born and raised in and showed no inclination to leave again any time soon.
“If you get the chance, grab it with both hands. But don’t be afraid, or too proud, to return if you really want to.”
Why did you come back?Joss peeked up at him. Declan had never said what had brought him home.
“Why—?”
But Declan was already moving away, as another wave of customers arrived, giving them his full attention and the smile that was bright enough to drain the National Grid.
A constant stream of customers came through the café’s door, keeping Joss, Declan and Mitch — who hadn’t run out on them — on their toes.
As Joss worked on auto pilot, serving up what was widely considered the best coffee in the village, generous slabs of chocolate brownie, and slices of carrot cake, sticky toffee cake, and the ever popular Victoria sponge, oozing layers of sweet strawberry jam and rich, cardiac arresting clotted cream, Joss’ mind wandered to the evening before and his encounter with Oliver.
Oliver had been almost ludicrously grateful for Joss’ help with sorting out his receipts and invoices, which were in a shambolic mess. Joss gave a soft snort. The guy was seriously hot and he’d have been more than happy to help him out in all sorts of ways that had nothing to do with piles of paperwork.
Wiping down a table, Joss’ hand slowed as he imagined a pair of stormy grey eyes growing darker by the second, and a mouth begging to be kissed.
“Fuck,” he breathed, as his dick stirred.
Glancing around, Joss quickly adjusted his apron, loosening the ties a little. Work wasn’t the place to let his fantasies run out of control. And fantasies were exactly what they were, nothing more than idle day dreams to fill in the time before he took his first steps away from—
“Joss?”
Charles’ rich upper class drawl dragged Joss back into the present.
Oh, shit…Charles was supposed to be away all day, but here he was… Joss’s dick went back to sleep, and he plastered a smile over his face as he turned to face his boss.
“Yes, Charles?” Was his voice really that high, really so squeaky?
Charles, immaculate and stylish as ever, stared down at the basket half hidden behind a trolly in the corner.
“I wasn’t aware it was Love’s Harbour Bring Your Dog To Work Day. Is that an annual event in the social calendar of the village?” Charles arched a well groomed brow.
Joss’ shoulders sagged. “I didn’t know what else to do. Bingo cut his paws open yesterday, and I had to rush him over to Dr. Strachan, you know, the vet? He’s been needy ever since — Bingo I mean, not the vet — howling if he’s left alone for more than a minute. Gran couldn’t look after him, because she’s got three curly perms, a couple of pink rinses and is doing half price shampoo and sets all afternoon at the Sunset Retirement Home so—”
“Curly perms and pink rinses?” Charles blinked.
“Yes. Erm, I’ll take him home. I’m sorry, if I wasn’t desperate I wouldn’t have brought him in. I thought, being a dog friendly establishment…” Joss looked around. There was a dozing Labrador, a dachshund puppy chewing on a rubber bone, and what looked like a cotton wool ball topped with a glittery bow being fed titbits by its owner. “He’s been very quiet, asleep most of the time—”
“And the star attraction.”
Joss’ head swung around as Declan came around the counter.
