Page 19 of A Box of Wishes
The oven timer broke them out of their trance. Ryan grabbed Ben’s hand and tugged him towards the kitchen. “Come on. You’ve worked your socks off and I have a late-night treat for you.”
While he’d been catching up on his baking—fresh bread and panini for the morning rush and cakes for the afternoon one—Ryan had also brewed tea and laced it liberally with red wine. Now he cut squares of spicy gingerbread and stacked them on a plate. “Hand me the teapot?”
Ben picked up the pot, lifted the lid, and sniffed. “Spiced tea?”
“And mulled wine. Just the thing to partner with my favourite snack.”
“Ryan…”
“What?”
“I’ve had three beers. No way can I have this and drive home.”
“Then don’t. It’s midnight. We can kip in the break room.”
“Are you serious?”
Gobsmacked was a cute look on Ben.
“Sure. As you say, we’ve both been drinking. And it’s icy out. I wasn’t planning to go home, and since you challenged yourself to a late-night furniture-building contest, I think you shouldn’t either.” He waved the teapot, making the heady aroma drift in Ben’s direction, until Ben smiled a truly heart-stopping smile.
“Thank you. I put the filing cabinets together, so I could delay going home. I just… I didn’t think I could sleep without Morris there. If you don’t mind me sleeping here…”
Instead of an answer, Ryan poured steaming mulled wine into a large mug and held it out.
Cat Sitting
Warmed by spiced wine and gingerbread, Ben fell asleep as soon as Ryan turned out the light. The long, fear-laden day had exhausted him more than he’d expected, and he slept without tossing and turning until Ryan’s alarm scared them awake.
“I should make a habit of borrowing your sofa,” he said when he joined Ryan in the kitchen, showered, shaved, and wearing the spare clothes from his go bag. “I slept like a log.”
“Glad to hear it.” Ryan sleep-walked through his start-up routine. He flipped switches and turned dials, eyes heavy-lidded, T-shirt only half tucked into his jeans, and hair sticking up in all directions. The scruff on his cheeks had a reddish tint, and Ben imagined its touch against his own freshly shaved skin.
“Can I help with anything? I don’t think the vet will appreciate me standing on their doorstep at six.”
“I need a shower. Could you watch the oven?”
“Is it likely to go anywhere?”
“Idiot.” Ryan shoved a fist into his shoulder, but he was smiling. “Croissants are temperamental. I’ve set the timer, but keep an eye, please? They may have to come out early or bake a minute or two longer. I want them a deep golden brown. Not too pale.”
“Right you are. Assam, not Darjeeling.” Ryan shuffled out of the room, and Ben started a pot of tea. Despite the brief night, he was wide awake, feeling as if his feet didn’t quite touch the ground. Whether to blame the spiced wine or the lack of sleep, he didn’t know.
“Don’t turn it into a mountain,” he told himself. “You’re just glad you’re getting Morris back.”
Ben found the tea—Ryan’s well-organised cupboard making it easy—and he had a big pot ready when Ryan returned to the kitchen.
“Wow!” He let his eyes linger on Ryan in tight jeans and a fitted shirt. “Now you’re looking like you own this joint.”
“I always look like I own this joint.”
“Except when you resemble a stray who sleepwalked in.” Ben held up the pot. “Tea?”
“Yes, please. I’ll no doubt be drowning in coffee later, so I’d better start the day the right way.”
Ben poured. “I’m… thanks for yesterday. No, let me say this. You didn’t have to babysit me all day, or find stuff for me to do, so I wouldn’t have to go home.” He held out the mug. “I realised what you were doing, but I… I was too grateful to you to argue.”
“That’s okay, then.” Ryan didn’t meet Ben’s gaze when he accepted the mug. The hint of pink in his cheeks spoke of embarrassment. “Itisokay, right?”
