Page 49 of Animal Instincts
Joss’ hand found the spot on his neck, just below the collar of his polo shirt, where Oliver had kissed and sucked, sending fireworks through every inch of him. The bruise, a couple of days old, was still dark and raw. He looked out over the café. Nobody wanted their attention, nobody stood at the counter, pondering over coffee and cake. It was just him and Declan, and the urge to talk swept over him like a wave smashing at the harbour wall.
“I’ve wanted to move away from the village for so long. It’s the only place I’ve ever known, and there are so many here in the Harbour who think this is where the world starts and ends. I don’t want to be like that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more from life, somewhere different, a place where not everybody knows your business.” The endless gossip of the Grannies’ Grapevine, the questioning glances cast at him and Oliver.
Him and Oliver.
His fingers scratched at the hidden bruise.
Him and Oliver.
To move away, to find more, experience more… The dream had become a talisman he’d held onto for so long his grip on it had been vice-like, but his grip was weakening as his certainty about what he wanted and where was fracturing.
Declan eased Joss’ hand away from his neck.
“Leave the bruise alone. It’ll go when it’s ready to, but maybe try some arnica cream.” Declan’s low chuckle sent a flare of heat to Joss’ face, embarrassment keeping his gaze averted.
When Declan spoke again, his voice was quiet and serious, all trace of levity gone.
“It’s hard to give up on an idea or a course of action, especially if you’ve convinced yourself it’s for the best and it’s what you really want. But what’s best and what you want changes; you’ve just got to be honest with yourself about that. Don’t let what you wanted a year, six months, or even last week push you into choices you don’t want today. I know you’re happy with Oliver, and I don’t just mean at the practice.”
Joss golf balled his cheeks, and let a long breath go.
“I like him. A lot. I never imagined I’d…” He couldn’t say it out loud. He could barely dare to whisper the words to himself, because what he’d imagined he’d never do was happening, throwing all those plans, all those fast held dreams, the route out of the village plotted and planned for so long, to the wind. It was exciting, it was scary, and it was as confusing as hell.
Declan’s arm twisted around his shoulders, and Joss leaned into the understanding and affection in his friend’s strong and supportive body.
“Only you can know what’s best for you, Joss. I’m not going to say you should stay, or you should go. But be honest about what you want, what you really want, here.” Declan placed the palm of his other hand against Joss’ chest, resting it for a moment before he let it fall. “That’s what you have to listen to. Whether you follow it is up to you, but don’t make any decisions without listening and listening hard. Do you remember me telling you the grass isn’t always greener on the other side?”
Joss nodded. He’d never thought much about the hackneyed old saying, but its meaning was becoming painfully clear with every passing day.
“It’s true. Take it from me. Doesn’t mean you never have to make changes or take a risk, but do it with the full knowledge of what — or who — you’re leaving behind. Just think about that before you decide your next step.”
Laughter and chatter drifted over from the door. One couple was leaving, another arriving, and they’d stopped to talk. In a moment they’d be busy again.
“I don’t know what my next step is, everything’s changed and so quickly—”
“Don’t you? Like I said, be honest with yourself about what it is you really want.” Declan tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve changed. You’re happier than I’ve ever seen you. There’s a contentment about you, that I hadn’t realised was missing before. It suits you. Just think about that before you make any sudden moves.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“How can anybody have a tarantula as a pet?”
Joss turned the sign toClosed, locked the door — and then collapsed against it. It had been a long day, but he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. He enjoyed working in the café, but all the time he was there he was willing the days on, for time to run rather than stroll, so as he could get back to the practice and Oliver.
It must have been Visit Your Vet Day, because everybody’s pet in Love’s Harbour had decided, en masse, that a trip out to the village vet was just what they needed, and a very fine day out indeed. Joss didn’t know who’d been the most demanding, the humans or their furry or feathered owners.
Oliver laughed. “You should have seen your face when she brought him in. I had to almost scrape you off the floor.”
Joss huffed, and chose to ignore that embarrassing, and sadly true, little nugget.
“And that’s another thing. How can you call a tarantula Timmy? Timmy the Tarantula. Jesus Christ.”
“The holy oath of the vet demands we love all pets equally,” Oliver’s face was deadpan, his voice solemn. “Even ones called Timmy.”
Joss tutted and rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched an answering smile.
Oliver got to work on cleaning up and prepping for the following day, as Joss started on the admin. They had a good routine going, an easy rhythm, and it worked, yet as Joss began ploughing through the invoices, his mind began to wander, mulling over what Declan had said to him the day before in the café.
Listen to your heart…Declan’s words had gone around and around in his head, keeping him awake for half the night. His heart, which was no longer whispering to him, but shouting. Joss’ fingers stilled on the keyboard; a moment later his hands slipped to his lap.
