Page 53 of Baby, It's Cod Outside
His phone buzzes.
Sorry there’s no prosecco. Figured it didn’t mix well with codeine. But I hope the pancake situation is acceptable.
Another ping, ten seconds later:
So, can I get that quote now?
Ben types back, slowly, one thumbed:
Off the record? You are a very good kisser.
He hesitates for a split second, then adds:
Also off the record, re:syrup dynamics: I do pour. I do get sticky. I do make a mess. Actively. Enthusiastically. And then I clean it up. With my mouth.
In case that’s still relevant to your reporting.
He grins. Let Jackson chew on that for a second.
Ben follows up with a winking face. And a pancake emoji. And then, just for the heck of it, a little fish and a crown. There’s no shame in joy today.
Then he sets the phone aside, picks up a fork, and lets himself enjoy every ridiculous bite.
Sunday
Chapter 27
Jackson
Jackson is early on purpose.
Partly for the light, as the orange winter sun sinks behind the horizon. Mostly, he just wants to see Ben before Ben sees him. Before that soft-panic face kicks in.
Josh, a freelancer with a good eye and the requisite patience, blends into the background, camera already up.
Ben stands at the serving table, ears a little pink, ladling chowder one-armed with stubborn determination. His sling’s tucked neatly beneath an apron. He was cautioned against this exertion, but he was determined to meet his commitments.
“Jesus,” Jackson mutters under his breath. “Get that picture. He looks like a Hallmark Channel leading man who’s one snowstorm away from saving the rec center.”
Josh snaps diligently. “You sure he won’t murder you for this?”
“Fifty-fifty shot,” Jackson says, grinning. “Totally worth it.”
Ben glances up mid-ladle and startles. “Jackson?”
Jackson waves, ties on an apron, and slides in beside him.
“You’re early,” Ben says, narrowing his eyes like he’s not charmed. “Why is there a photographer here?”
“I’m doing a story.”
“What story?”
Jackson shrugs, unapologetic. “Told you about it when we met. Community spotlight? Whitaker Seafood’s holiday philanthropy? Just got a little delayed.”
“Didn’t you just make that up to get in the office?”
“Not if I actually write the article. Don’t worry, Josh is good. These will flatter you. You’ll looksonoble and only a little tragic.”
