Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
J ohan
I can’t believe that someone might come and claim him. I don’t want him to go back to the people who neglected him into this state. The feeling makes me nauseous and I can feel anger welling up. But I take a few breaths as I watch him sniff at some fence posts and reason with myself that if they had wanted him, then they wouldn’t have dumped him at the side of the road. And without a microchip, surely they can’t prove ownership. That makes me feel a bit better.
Then he could go up for adoption. I would love him. I have always wanted a dog, but I know it’s impossible, despite the feelings I’m developing for the little guy. How could I have a dog? I live with Ben and Keith. They couldn’t have an animal living at the bakery, and anyway, my time here is temporary so there’s nothing I can do. And for the first time, I feel regret that I won’t be staying longer. But my visa was clear; I have six months and that’s all.
“Oh well, little guy. I’ll do what I can and try and find you a nice family to live with.” Even if the thought of it forms a lump in my throat.
As I settle a bed for him in the surgery I stroke him again.
“Rest there Roffe. I’ll bring you some food.” I know it’s dangerous to name him, but I can’t call him the dog forever and it suits him.
I follow Cole up the stairs. I’ve almost forgotten he can be surly and standoffish. But I guess we are still in professional territory. I like this Cole though. He seems more relaxed.
His apartment is large and mostly open plan. It certainly has barn vibes with lots of huge, exposed wooden beams. There’s a large living space, with a gigantic couch in the centre and a couple of armchairs. To one side is a stripped pine table and chairs, and there’s a kitchen area separated from the rest of the room by a breakfast bar. A couple of doors lead off to what I assume are bedrooms and bathrooms. I love it. I’m huge and I don’t feel cramped in it. It’s light and airy and actually looks very Swedish in style. I let out a low whistle as I turn round, taking in the beautiful details. I catch sight of Cole and his smile is wide, unguarded, as he watches me.
“Did you do this?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He looks down, a hand to the back of his neck. I realise it’s a nervous gesture I’ve seen him make before, and he looks slightly uncomfortable. “Harlen helped, making sure the wood of the building was sound, and he made the table, but yeah, this is mostly my work.”
“I love it,” I can’t help but say and he smiles again, not quite as wide as when he thought I wasn’t looking at him, but it is adorable. I turn away, swallowing, not allowing myself to entertain what that smile does to me.
“Er, do you want some coffee?” Cole breaks the silence and I manage to look back at him.
“Please, that would be great.” Just then my stomach growls, and I wince. I’ve been up for hours and apart from a brief coffee earlier, I haven’t had any breakfast yet.
“Sorry,” I mumble and walk across the room, hoping that if it happens again, then I’m out of earshot.
“Did you come here before breakfast?” Cole’s question startles me and I swing back to look at him.
“Yeah.” I didn’t want to tell him that I had been too nauseous worrying about the dog to be able to eat earlier. Cole presses his lips together for a few seconds as if he is thinking.
“Well, I haven’t eaten yet either and as I am going to make some scrambled egg for the dog, would you like some too, with some toast?”
Would I, jeez. I can’t think of anything I want more right now. Stop it, I admonish myself, it’s not going to be like that. Don’t make him feel uncomfortable. I tone down my reaction somewhat.
“I would love some, if it’s not too much trouble?”
Cole actually looks pleased. “No trouble at all.”
I accept the cup of coffee he offers and smile at him. “Thanks then, that would be great.” I receive a smile back and damn if my heart doesn’t give a little skip. I need to stop this. I need to be doing something. Action and movement have always been my ways to combat extraneous thoughts.
“Can I help?”
“Can you whisk eggs?” he asks.
“With Ben as my brother? Yeah sure, I can whisk eggs. You won’t believe how many times I’ve been pressed into helping him out.”
He places a large ceramic mixing bowl on the breakfast bar and a bowl of eggs.
“Okay let’s say…” He stops for a minute and looks over at Vin who is on one of the armchairs, sat watching him expectantly.
“You’re going to be upset if I don’t make some for you as well, aren’t you?” he addresses Vin. I love that he talks to his dog.
He turns back to me. “Whisk up a dozen eggs.” He places a whisk and an empty bowl for the shells on the counter.
“You won’t have any left.” I reckon there are about a dozen eggs in the bowl.
“Plenty more where they came from. These are from the hens we have here.”
“Oh, I haven’t seen any hens about.”
“They’re on the other side of the house. Mum tends to them. She says it gives her something to look after, now Tom and I have moved out. Not that we’ve gone far.” He huffs a little laugh, and the sound makes my insides fizz. I put more energy into whisking to try and ignore it. “I think she wanted more children than just us two, but it wasn’t to be.” He shrugs. I realise Cole is talking about something other than his profession or his animals, and he seems relaxed. I want to keep him this way.
He busies himself with putting a large pan on the hob and reaching for some bread to put in the toaster. I hand him the large bowl of whisked eggs, he nods approvingly, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I tell you, only Ben could do a better job than that.”
“That so?” He looks up at me with a half-smile. Is he teasing me? I’m floored and don’t know how to respond, and suddenly he closes off, his face falls and he turns away. I curse myself. With anyone else I would have responded with something light and possibly slightly flirty, but it was so unexpected from Cole that I clammed up and now I’ve ruined it. I hate to see that the scowl, which had been absent since I arrived earlier this morning, is back, and my stomach dips. How could I have been so insensitive? I want to say, “I’m sorry,” but I’m not sure what I’m sorry for, or how I can explain it, without making it a big deal. I vow to do better next time. If there is a next time. I hope there is.
The thought that I might have blown it makes me feel nauseous and I take a swig of coffee. Then have another strong talk with myself. Blown what exactly? What is it that I think is going on here, or is even going to happen. Fuck, I know I am attracted to Cole, but did I really think there was going to be something between us? I don’t know anything about him, really. Not in that way, apart from what others have told me—that he doesn’t do relationships, or even hook ups. I was allowing myself to get carried away. It has to end now. I pick up my cup and wander across the room, hoping a bit of distance will calm me down.
I notice the bookcase and wander over to it. It’s full of fantasy classics; Tolkien and George R R Martin, and some Terry Pratchett who I also love.
I groan inwardly. After having the stern talk with myself, I find that he likes the same fiction genre I do. Well, I presume he likes them as they are in his house, and they look very well read. I take a deep breath. We can be friends. Yes, friends, that’s all. That’s all I can hope for anyway, if he wants to be, of course.
I select a book —the first in The Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan. I’ve heard of it but haven’t had a chance to read it yet.
“Do you read?” I’m startled by Cole’s voice behind me. He’s carrying two plates piled high with toast and scrambled eggs.
He puts them down on the pine table and turns back to me.
“Yes, I read a lot, and these are some of my favourites.” I slide the book back into place and turn around. “That looks delicious.”
I knew I was hungry, but the plate of simple scrambled eggs and toast looks divine.
“Great, then come and eat.” Cole doesn’t say anything more, he just sits down and when I have also sat, he starts eating. He’s starting to look uncomfortable again. The food is good and I can’t help a little moan escaping. His lips lift in a little smile at me before he looks back at his plate again. Several minutes pass of us just eating. I remember that he didn’t converse much at the pub on my first night in Larchdown, and whilst we have been talking all morning so far, we have had something to discuss. But now there’s nothing immediate to talk about, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself, so I decide to start.
“Which is your favourite of the books?” I ask, hoping it might draw him out. He looks up at me. I guess I startled him slightly. He glances at the bookcase before he speaks. “I’m not sure I have a favourite as such. I like them all for different reasons.”
“Like what?” I prompt.
“Well, I’ll always be fond of The Hobbit , as I read it when I was a boy and it captured my imagination. It was my gateway into other realms and worlds, a place I could lose myself. Terry Pratchett always makes me laugh and I love the Night Watch series best. And, well, the others I’ve read and enjoyed at different times.”
I blink. Apart from when he was telling me about his horses yesterday, it’s one of the longest speeches I’ve heard from Cole. He looks relaxed again, and I feel relieved. So I decide to get him to continue.
“So, Lord of the Rings . Which is better, the books or the films?”
That receives a wide grin, and his eyes light up in a way that goes straight to my heart and makes it flip. Damn, why does he have the ability to do this to me?
“What a question.” He’s still smiling while he shakes his head. I’ve finished eating, so I lean my elbows on the table, rest my chin on my hands, and look straight at him.
“How so?”
“How can you say one is better or worse than the other? They might tell the same story but they are very different media. Admittedly, the books are very long-winded and you learn the heritage of everyone in them, but that’s their charm. You feel fully immersed in the story and with the characters. The film is so much more immediate and action packed and accessible, it is a lot of fun.”
He stops and draws in a breath, as all of this had been said in an excited voice. He’s not wrong. I think similar thoughts—though I have little time for reading the books nowadays. I’m too stunned by his passionate outburst to move, or answer, but he obviously thinks I need convincing.
“They’re like…” He pauses as if gathering his thoughts, and then continues. “They’re like comparing cooking apples and eating apples. They’re both apples, but you use them in different ways. Eating apples are if you want a quick, accessible snack. But with a cooking apple, you need to prepare it and cook it and enjoy it in a pie or crumble. Still the same great apple taste but different.” He stops looking at me and scrunches up his face. “Sorry, I’m being a nerd, aren’t I? Am I boring you?”
I let out a loud laugh. He’s just compared Lord of the Rings to apples, but it works and I get it, and it’s so sweet and funny, I can’t help but laugh. The trouble is I can’t stop. I think it’s a tension release from the last day or so, and the tears run down my face. Cole’s face falls, his expression becomes guarded again, and he makes to leave the table. Does he think I’m laughing at him? Shit. I place a hand on his forearm, holding it down to the table so he can’t move.
“Sorry.” I try and explain. “That was so perfect. I have never heard anyone explain it that way. It’s so true, but unexpected, and it made me laugh.”
“You think so?” His face brightens up a little. “You don’t think it was dumb?”
“Dumb? Hell no.” Why would he think it was dumb? I’m saddened that he could think that. “It was genius, and I will forever think of films and book adaptations as apples from now on.”
He looks at me. I think he’s checking to see if I’m mocking him. I am not. I think it’s brilliant. He smiles again and then looks down at my hand, and I swiftly remove it as if his skin has burnt me. I gather up my plate and mug and head to the kitchen area.
“Thank you for breakfast. It was delicious, and I really needed it.”
“You’re welcome.” His answer is a bit cool after the passion and excitement he had shown before and I’m aware that I might have upset or offended him again. Darn it, me and my big, blundering mouth. Still, he hasn’t kicked me out or blanked me and walled off. I have seen he is capable of that if he wants to end a conversation.
He picks up two dog bowls and splits the rest of the egg from the pan between them. In one, he adds some mixer biscuit and calls Vin, who has been patiently curled up on the armchair while we ate. Vin sits with his face looking up at Cole. Cole extends a hand towards Vin, palm out.
“Wait.” He places the bowl down on a mat at the end of the breakfast bar, which also has a water bowl on it.
“Eat.” He gestures with his hand towards the bowl. Vin needs no further encouragement, and he bounds forward to eat with gusto.
“That’s neat.” I am again impressed with his training.
“He was a terror when I first got him. He’d been starved and had issues with food. He’d have his head in his bowl before I got it to the floor. He is much better now, but asking him to wait helps slow him down a little. Sometimes I use a bowl which is shaped to make it harder for him to guzzle the food down.”
Cole picks up the other bowl. “Shall we go and see if our friend is hungry?”
I really like that he called the little dog “our friend”, and like it even more when he hands me the bowl.
Careful Johan, I try to tell myself. Because I know that I am in very great danger of falling for this guy.