Page 20 of A Box of Wishes
“More than.”
“Oh, good. I get bossy in a crisis. I wasn’t implying that you can’t manage by yourself.”
Ben remembered the unexpected comfort of Ryan’s hug. Perhaps it was time to return that boon. He set his mug down and wrapped his arms around Ryan’s middle. “You helped a lot.” He breathed the words into Ryan’s hair. “I don’t mind admitting that I would have struggled doing anything yesterday. I was out of my mind with worry.”
Ryan relaxed. He even gave Ben a little of his weight. And Ben held onto him until the second batch of croissants was ready.
The kitchen grew busy after that, and Ben spent the next hour emptying the dishwasher, grinding coffee beans, and ferrying platters of cakes, sandwiches, and stuffed croissants from the kitchen to the bar. He greeted Ryan’s regulars as if it was normal for him to do so, and even made a start at filing Ryan’s stacks of paperwork and stocking the new bookcases.
He never lost sight of the clock.
“I’m off to the vet now,” he said at ten minutes past nine. “Are you sure you still—”
“Yes. I’ll watch over your Morris and make sure he’s safe.”
Ben wanted to kiss him.
He shrugged on his jacket and reached for his car keys instead.
Anxiety spiked as he drove through the town. What if Morris wasn’t fine? What if something had happened overnight? What if—
He turned on the radio, but found that thinking about Ryan was a better distraction. Ryan, and their day furniture shopping and building.
Ben was used to being recognised when he went out. It was a side-effect of his job, even though he’d never patrolled Rothcote in uniform. People knew what he did and approached him if they needed help. He’d not expected to see so many people treat Ryan the same way. From the vet to people in the furniture store, Ryan had been recognised, nodded to, and waved at. And he’d not minded an iota. He’d not minded when people waved at Ben, either.
Not like—
“Get. Fucking. Lost!” Keith had left months ago, yet he was still taking up space in Ben’s life. “It’s time I stop giving you that power.” His voice rose over the chug of the engine. “You don’t deserve my loyalty.”
When he’d first realised how manipulative Keith had become, he’d needed a lifeline. He’d clung to those words while he psyched himself up to end their relationship. And he’d repeated them over and over after Keith had left, and Ben battled guilt over instigating their break. Maybe now he was ready to believe them.
He parked outside the animal hospital, and his heart soared when the receptionist greeted him with a smile.
“He’s ready to go home with you, Mr. Hobart. You’ll find him in room 1.”
Ben knocked and stepped inside the small treatment room, where the vet and Morris waited for him.
“He looks as if he’s been in the wars with hanks of his fur shorn, but he’s doing fine,” the vet said as he handed over the cat carrier. “He’s still a bit wobbly, so make sure he can’t injure himself. Keep him indoors and give the burns time to heal. If the bald patches get red or hot, or if he stops drinking or eating, bring him right over.”
Ben memorised the vet’s instructions. Morris wouldn’t be happy about the locked cat door, but the tabby lying hurt and unresponsive was a sight Ben wouldn’t soon forget. He’d do anything to prevent a repeat.
He left the animal hospital and loaded the cat carrier into the car. The drive to Ryan’s coffeehouse wasn’t long. Fifteen minutes at the most, and then he’d be holding his Morris again.
Ben’s beautiful smile, wide and blinding, lit the room, and he cradled the cat carrier as if it was his most precious possession. Ryan couldn’t help but smile back. A happy Ben, surrounded by a soft blue glow, was a gorgeous sight.
“So all went well, right? Come this way. Gods, this thing is huge!” Even when held against Ben’s broad frame, the cat carrier appeared enormous. Ryan didn’t remember Morris being a monster cat. “I’ve set up the bed and dishes in the office. It’s the quietest space in the back.”
“Thank you so much. I wouldn’t know what—”
“Oh, stop that. It’s getting old. It’s no hardship to look after Morris. Once you’ve properly introduced us, that is.” He held the door beside the bar for Ben to push past and followed him into the office. “Did the vet say anything interesting?”
Ben set the carrier on the floor and knelt. “Only what he told us yesterday. Morris will be a bit wobbly. He’ll sleep a lot. We need to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself and the burns aren’t getting infected.” His fingers made quick work of the fastenings on the large wicker basket and when he lifted the door out of the way Ryan got his first look at an awake Morris.
Sensing freedom, the tabby pushed to his feet and climbed out of the carrier.
“Oh my God, the vet wasn’t joking, was he?” Ryan grinned as he watched Morris sway a little drunkenly from side to side. “Look! I’ve never seen a cat dragging his tail.”
Ben didn’t laugh. Nor did he respond to Ryan’s teasing. He swept the cat into his arms and cuddled him, nuzzling his face into the soft fur at Morris’s neck. “I’m so glad to have you back, big boy,” he mumbled, not caring that Ryan witnessed his outburst. He rocked the cat in his arms and for a while, Morris seemed perfectly happy to let himself be fussed over.
