Page 12 of A Box of Wishes
“Then what’s different this time?”
“My office.” Ryan knuckled his eyes and sighed. “The papers that got tossed around during the break-in? Four years’ worth of purchase orders and booking forms. I can’t work without having them in order, so…”
“You spent hours filing instead of baking.”
“I’m trying to make a dent in the mess, but I’m crap at paperwork.” He shrugged. “Never mind. It could have been worse. The girls do a fab job running the show out here, so I can work on getting things back together. But now Connie’s daughter is sick, and we have a rule about not coming to work when that happens.”
“Which is why you’re manning the bar when you should be baking.” Ben wanted to reach out and catch Ryan’s hand in his, but he couldn’t predict Ryan’s reaction to being touched in front of customers. And by Ben, of all people. “Did you finish all your filing?”
“Don’t make me laugh. I’ve barely started. I’ll have to take a stack home tonight.” Ryan’s tone said that he didn’t relish the idea.
“Can I help?”
“What?”
“Can I help? I’m no earthly use in the kitchen unless you need the washing up doing, but I can put papers in order.”
“You’d do that? Oh man, I’d love you forever!”
The outburst was as heartfelt and genuine as the scarlet mantling Ryan’s cheeks. Ben saw no reason to retract his offer.
“You make a brilliant assistant!” Ryan stood in the doorway of his office. Ben had been working for a couple of hours, but already the place resembled an orderly workspace rather than the disaster zone it had been before. It was more than Ryan had managed in a week, even if he felt uncomfortable about putting Ben to work. “You’re so much better at this than I am.” Ryan replaced the empty teapot with the one he’d brought.
“Police. Paperwork. Comes with the territory. Also, I like things neat.” Ben sniffed. “What have you got there? That’s something different.”
“Extra strong Assam with Christmas spices.” He poured a cup of the copper-coloured brew and handed it across his messy desk. Ben Hobart loved tea, no two ways about it. He was knowledgeable about it, too, and a bit of feedback never went amiss.
“You blend this?” Ben asked after he’d taken his first sip.
“No. My sister found it. I told you she’s a buyer for a deli chain, right? Christmas-flavoured coffees are popular, so she thought I should give this a whirl. What do you think?”
“It’s… pleasant. Less ginger than my favourite chai, more cinnamon and cloves. I’d brew it longer, though. Make the tea come through more.” He flushed. “Sorry, not telling you your job or anything.”
“Don’t apologise. Customer feedback is good, and you’re more of a tea drinker than I am. I like tea, but you… I’ve watched you. Even when you’re barely awake, you take care with your tea.”
Ben took another sip, then set the cup down. “I suppose that’s true. Tea is… I can’t explain it, but it’s like a luxury and an adventure—at home.” He spun to face the stacks of papers, and as he gripped his forearms, the muscles bunched under the fine cotton of his blue shirt.
Ryan suddenly felt too warm. The fragrance of tea and spices wove through the room, a nudge towards something—what had Ben called it?—luxurious and adventurous. He moved closer and wound his arms around Ben’s middle in a loose hug. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he whispered into the side of Ben’s neck.
Ben had gone rigid at Ryan’s touch. When Ryan spoke, he jumped, startled. “Sorry,” he mumbled, neck and cheeks a sea of fiery red. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I get it.” Ryan tightened his arms, the feeling that Ben needed a hug stronger than ever, even when Ben stood unmoving. Or maybe because he did. “Why so jumpy? I promise nobody will come in. You’re safe here.”
“That’s not… I’m out, don’t worry.”
“Why then?”
“Bad breakup. I haven’t—”
“Did he cheat?”
“Yeah.” The word was a whisper. “It was my fault. Working long hours, studying for exams. And I’m so goddamn annoying, the only way he could bear to stay with me was to find other men to screw.”
Ryan leaned his cheek against Ben’s hair, breathing in faint hints of shampoo, wood smoke, and a touch of something sweet he had no name for. “I hope you’re just quoting the douchebag.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Ben relaxed into Ryan’s hug in cautious increments. “Let it go. You didn’t sound that upset when this place got broken into.”
“It’s easy to fix a smashed door. You’re a very desirable man. Don’t listen to anyone telling you otherwise.” Not wanting to make things awkward, he dropped his arms, though he wished he could keep the hug going. “As soon as I’ve scraped together enough courage, I’m going to ask you out.”
