Page 30 of A Box of Wishes
“We’ve all known that for years. And you’ve only just figured it out?”
“Hardly. Just… give me a bit of time, okay?”
Ryan heaved himself out of the sofa. He wanted to stay talking, but he’d heard what Alastair hadn’t said, and his own crazy schedule was catching up with him. A long night’s sleep sounded marvellous.
“Do you really mind so much that I wasn’t there?” Alastair asked as Ryan shoved his feet into his boots.
And wasn’t that just like Alastair all over? He’d realised it all along, Ryan was sure. He’d just not wanted to bring it up when there was time for Ryan to ask questions. “We all missed you. You’re family. You should have been there with us.” He took a deep breath. “And I wanted to introduce you to someone.”
“Your detective?”
“Yes. He’s… I don’t know… nicer than anyone I’ve met in a long while. I wanted to show him I was serious about dating him.”
“He met your parents, I assume?”
“Yeah. But Cara was stuck in Toronto, and you weren’t there. I was missing the important people.”
Alastair fiddled with the coats hanging on the rack. “I didn’t realise. That you wanted me to meet someone, and that Cara wasn’t there, I mean. Why don’t you… why don’t you ask him to our New Year’s lunch? I promise to turn up and talk to him.”
Ben cradled a mug of tea, content to watch Ryan turn risen dough into individual buns. He cut and shaped with deft movements, filling the waiting trays until the ball of dough was gone. When they came out of the oven, Ryan would spread soft white icing over the buns and top them with a glace cherry, making them a perfect accompaniment to a cup of tea. Ben’s mouth watered just thinking about having a couple in his bag to treat himself in the middle of his shift.
“How about Sunday, then?” he asked. He’d wanted to take Ryan out for dinner on Boxing Day, but Ryan had been so exhausted at the end of his Christmas celebrations that he’d begged off. Ben had a night shift today, which made Sunday the next available day.
“Sorry, can’t. I’m promised to my da. I don’t mean to blow you off. Honestly. December is crazy, and with all of us working in hospitality, I’m lucky to find time to breathe. I’m sorry. Truly.”
“Right.” Ben didn’t hide his disappointment, but since his own hours were far from regular, he didn’t complain. “I suppose you’re working on New Year’s Eve?”
“In my uncle’s pub, yes. I don’t just make coffee, you know? I can pull a pint, too.”
“Does it get quieter in the new year?”
“A little. Most years, I even get a few days off before work starts again. We all slow down a bit at the start of January before business kicks up with late Christmas parties and early Valentine’s Day ones. It might not seem like that to you, but… I run a coffeehouse because the hours aren’t as erratic.”
“And I thought it was because you enjoyed baking.”
“That, too. But unlike my da and the men on his side of the family, I’m not built like a stormtrooper. I hate dealing with drunks, too, so running a pub was never an option.”
“And you being Irish. The shame of it.”
Ryan laughed, and the apologetic look was gone from his face. “Go ahead and mock me. I suppose in your job, dealing with drunks comes with the territory.”
“You said it. I spent three years in uniform up in Manchester. Some days, it really wasn’t pretty.”
“Are there ever good days?”
“More than you might think.” Ben poured himself a fresh cup of tea. The pot held Lady Grey tea this evening, and Ben drank it without milk or lemon to appreciate the delicate flavour. “My good days are probably not what most people would even consider, but… finding a missing child unharmed, delivering a baby… these are the things that work for me.”
“Catching the bad guys doesn’t make for a good day?”
“It makes for a satisfactory one. A worthwhile one. The real good days are about the little things. When nobody’s hurt, and everyone goes home.”
Ryan moved the tray of buns to the oven and cleaned his workspace. A worried frown creased his brow. Ben had seen it twice since they’d kissed on Christmas day and could guess what it meant. He opened his mouth to reassure Ryan when Ryan beat him to it.
“You really delivered a baby?”
“Don’t remind me. The mum-to-be did all the work. It was her third, and she knew more about the process than I ever will. Because she was so together, it felt like the training we’d had. I had it all under control and was just wondering how best to cut the cord when the ambulance screeched up. The paramedics took over from there. At least they had sterile equipment and all.”
“And what did you do?”
