One Word

by Anne Barwell

  “I’m not taking a chance. I know talent when I see it.” Mitchell glanced around, then placed a hand on Donovan’s shoulder, stilling him. “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about as well, in private.”

  “Yes?”

  “Ethan’s a good kid, and he’s been through some serious shit lately. I’ve heard the way he talks about you. You’re not leading him on, are you?”

  Seriously? He was giving Donovan that talk?

  Donovan rolled his eyes. “Firstly, we’re not together, and secondly, he’s my friend. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.”

  “Of course you’re not, and good to hear it.” Mitchell grinned. “Now come on, I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve brought me. I loved the figurine Ethan sent. I hope you’ve got more of them.”

  “IF YOU wanted to talk to me alone, you could have just asked,” Ethan said. He glanced around the shop once they reached the ground floor. Wherever this new painting was, they’d hidden it well.

  “I thought I did.” Vincent raised one eyebrow. “Something’s troubling you, Ethan.” He led Ethan behind the counter through the door to the small kitchen and gestured for him to sit down.

  “There’s no new painting, is there?” Ethan pulled out a chair and waited for Vincent to do the same.

  “Yes, but you’ve already seen it. Donovan was looking at it before.” Vincent crossed his arms and sighed. “I’ve known you long enough to know something’s wrong.” He frowned. “It’s not your friend, Tomas, is it? I do hope he’s okay. I like him, despite that prickly nature of his.”

  “I wouldn’t know about Tomas.” Ethan didn’t bother to hide his frustration. Trying to hide how he truly felt from either Vincent or Mitchell had always been a waste of time. Both of them were too insightful for their own good. Or his own good. “It’s like he’s fallen off the face of the earth. There’s no sign of him or his mysterious new friend.”

  “Have you thought about the fact that maybe he doesn’t want to be found?” Vincent asked gently.

  Ethan shook his head. “I don’t believe that. We don’t talk about everything, but we’ve been friends a long time. He wouldn’t do that without leaving me some kind of message. I also don’t believe he’d do that to Kathleen. He adores his sister, and she adores him, although I’ve never figured out why she does.”

  “This bloke he’s found must be really someone for Tomas to go away with him like that and leave everyone and everything behind.”

  “I never said he’d done that.” Ethan eyed Vincent. “And since when did you believe in true love and all that crap?”

  “I’m wounded.” Vincent thankfully didn’t add an overdramatic gesture to his statement like he tended to do sometimes. “Tomas wasn’t exactly out, was he? I wondered once or twice whether he was gay, but I figured it was none of my business. He didn’t know about you and Duncan either, did he?”

  “No.” Tomas could be oblivious as hell when he put his mind to it. Ethan prided himself on being far more observant. “He never asked whether I was gay, so I never told him.”

  “And you didn’t know he was either.” Vincent put into words the very thing that had annoyed Ethan the most about all of this. “And yet you think you know him well enough to know what he’d do if he found someone he loved.”

  “Yes, I do.” Ethan scowled. He’d seen that look on Vincent before. The man had a good imagination and loved to embellish a simple story into something it wasn’t. “This isn’t about Tomas, and before you start… I’m not jealous he’s found someone, as long as he’s not in some kind of trouble.”

  But if he wasn’t in trouble, why hadn’t he come home yet?

  “You’re putting words in my mouth now, and you two have an interesting friendship.” Vincent shook his head. “But each to his own, I guess. Speaking of which… what’s the story with you and Donovan? He’s interested in you. I saw the way he looked at you.”

  “There’s no story. He’s a friend. That’s all.” Ethan started to stand, but Vincent put a hand on his arm.

  “Right, so if we’re not talking about that either, what are we talking about?”

  “I don’t know. Are we talking? You tell me.” Ethan didn’t have the patience for being anything less than direct today. His fist clenched at the memory of the text he’d received that morning. He still couldn’t believe the gall of that man.

  “Uh-huh.” Vincent met Ethan’s gaze and held it without flinching when Ethan scowled in response. “What’s Duncan done now? I thought you were moving past that arsehole, but your reaction to his latest painting says otherwise.”

  “Apart from the fact that it’s of somewhere we used to go together?” Ethan knew damn well Duncan had painted it after they’d broken up.

  “Ouch. Sorry, I didn’t know that.” Vincent leaned forward in his chair. “Honestly, Ethan, I never knew what you saw in that guy.”

  “You’ve known him longer than I have.”

  “No one’s perfect.” Vincent shrugged. “His paintings sell, and it’s never a good idea to upset clients.”

  What was the point in avoiding this conversation? Vincent would just keep at it until he found the truth. Mitchell had told Ethan once that his partner was like a dog with a bone. He’d also said it wasn’t a bad thing, although it could be damn annoying.

  “I….” Ethan took a deep breath before continuing. “I got a text from Troy this morning. I didn’t think he even had my number.”

  “Oh.” Vincent didn’t look impressed, but he didn’t seem surprised either. “There’s something I need to tell you about that. I was going to talk to you about it today. We thought it would be better if you found out from us, and in person, but it looks like we should have told you sooner. We went around to see you, but you’d already left for Oakwood.”

  “If it’s that Duncan told Troy that we’d already broken up before they slept together, I found that out this morning. Not just that, but Duncan’s been telling everyone I cheated on him, couldn’t deal with the fact he’d then found someone else, and that’s why I threw him out.” Ethan grimaced. “I’m not going to repeat what Troy said in his text. It wasn’t complimentary.”

  “The boy is young and impressionable. Duncan will dote on him until Troy grows some balls and disagrees with him about something.”

  “Yeah, I figured. Our relationship had already headed down that path.” Ethan shouldn’t have been surprised when he’d come home and found Duncan in their bed with another man. “Apparently I wasn’t meeting his needs. Nor was I the supportive partner he needed. Heaven help the fact I have a career of my own and work to do on weekends instead of paying him the attention he deserved.”

  “He said that?”

  “Oh yes. That’s pretty much it, verbatim. Smartest thing I ever did was throwing him out. I wish I’d done it sooner.”

  For the first time in his life, Ethan had just reacted. He never made decisions without weighing up the pros and cons, but seeing Duncan and Troy together had been the last straw, and he’d felt something inside him snap. Despite telling himself he’d planned to break with Duncan anyway and didn’t love him anymore, it still hurt seeing him with someone else. Ethan had never pretended to be something he wasn’t. He still couldn’t get his head around the fact Duncan had lied so easily, and was also angry with himself for not realizing it sooner. He’d truly believed for most of the time they’d been together they’d had something special, that Duncan loved him.

  “Just because Duncan did that to you, doesn’t mean someone else would.” Vincent pulled Ethan back to the present with a jolt.

  “I’m not about to enter into another relationship anytime soon.” Ethan couldn’t believe Vincent was suggesting it. He shook his head when Vincent smiled. “Donovan and I are just friends. That’s it. Hell, I’ve only known him a short time. There’s no way I’m making that sort of stupid mistake ever again.”

  “Sometimes, despite your best intentions, your heart still chooses for you and does what i
t wants.” Vincent smiled again, this time softly, as though caught in a memory. Thinking about how he and Mitchell had met, no doubt. Ethan had heard the story often enough. “Don’t let a bad experience stop you from living your life.”

  Ethan rolled his eyes. He’d had enough of platitudes and well-meaning friends for one day. “Whatever,” he muttered.

  Chapter 10

  DONOVAN PUSHED his fries around his plate with his fork. The continued silence from Ethan was driving him crazy. He put down his fork. “Sometimes it’s better to talk about stuff,” he said.

  “We’ve already had this conversation,” Ethan replied, not looking up at him. He continued to stir his tea, although he hadn’t added any sugar. “I’ve had Vincent give me the third degree. I don’t need a repeat performance.”

  “So it isn’t just me who’s noticed,” Donovan murmured. He tried another tack. “As long as you’ve talked to someone, then I guess that’s good, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Thanks for dinner. This pub is cool, and the food is delicious.” While Donovan hadn’t been there before, Ethan had greeted the man behind the bar by name and exchanged a few words in conversation before ordering. Apparently he still knew how to talk; it was just that he didn’t want to do so with Donovan.

  “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

  Donovan raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m allowed to thank you for dinner. And for today. Mitchell and Daphne really loved my carvings. I suspect this is the beginning of a great business arrangement.”

  Ethan smiled at that. “I think it will be too. I’m glad you like the pub. It’s one I visit often.” He gestured toward the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner. “Miles had it loaded up with ’50s and ’60s music before he opened.” Ethan leaned in and lowered his voice. “I think he’s got a fixation for the time period, but he denies it.”

  “I think the decor gives it away.”

  The maroon faux-leather bench seats with a rectangular table between each pair were comfortable and stylish. The jukebox and black-and-white photographs of James Dean and Marlon Brando on the wall reminded Donovan of a diner he used to visit back home in Pennsylvania.

  Donovan ate another forkful of food. Was Ethan steering the conversation onto a safe topic, or was something in his tea suddenly loosening his tongue? He sniffed. Nope, it smelt okay. There was nothing exotic in there as far as he could tell.

  “You’re sniffing the food.” Ethan sounded as though he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or alarmed. “It’s okay, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it’s great. So’s the coffee.”

  “I’ll take your word for that one.” Ethan grimaced. “I’ve never seen the appeal of the stuff. Give me a decent cup of tea any day.”

  “One day someone will bring you over to the dark side.” Donovan couldn’t help but grin at Ethan’s expression of disgust. “We have cookies too.”

  Ethan nodded. “I’ve heard rumors. I figured there had to be something…. After all, it’s not as though the taste is that tempting. The smell, though, that’s a different matter.” He sighed. “Look, Donovan, I know I’ve been rude today. I….”

  “You knew the guy who painted that picture, didn’t you?” Donovan filled the silence when Ethan trailed off.

  “Yes.” Ethan bit his lip but didn’t elaborate.

  “Okay, so it’s not something you’re ready to talk about. Don’t worry, I get that.”

  Ethan shot him a look, then returned his attention to his food. “It’s not just me who has stuff he doesn’t want to talk about.”

  “Touché.” Donovan flinched. “Yeah, okay. Practice what I preach and all that, right?” He softened his tone, hoping that would help before their conversation started to go downhill. “I know what it’s like to have stuff you don’t want to talk about. No one’s bulletproof. Not even a Marine.”

  Ethan looked up, jerking his head toward Donovan in surprise. “A Marine? I don’t see what—”

  Luckily Miles chose that moment to turn up the TV on the wall behind the bar. Donovan kicked himself for letting that bit of information slip. He was trying to get Ethan to open up. The last thing he’d intended was to talk about himself and his own issues.

  “Breaking news,” the reporter said. “Police are closing in on the group responsible for last week’s bank robbery. New information has narrowed down their identities and location. Sadly we also have to report that one of the victims died in hospital yesterday of wounds sustained during the incident. Our thoughts are with her family. Police warn that these suspects are most likely armed and dangerous, and are now also wanted for manslaughter, perhaps murder. Do not approach anyone suspicious under any circumstances. Instead, please contact the police at this number.” A phone number scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

  “Nasty business,” Miles said as he came over to refill Donovan’s coffee. “You blokes still have a long drive ahead of you. Be careful, won’t you?” He glanced outside nervously, as though expecting one of the robbers to jump out of the shadows.

  “Always,” Donovan reassured him. He held out his hand. “I’m Donovan, by the way. Ethan tells me he’s a regular here. I can see why. The food is great.”

  Miles beamed and shook Donovan’s hand. “Thank you, Donovan. It’s always nice to serve appreciative customers.” He gave Ethan a pointed look.

  “Hey, I told you the food was good when you opened the place,” Ethan protested. “Actually, before you opened. You tested some of it out on me. Remember?”

  “Oh yeah,” Miles said. “So I did. I didn’t hear complaints, either from you or your friend.” He grinned, then sobered. “Just take care, okay?” Another customer waved him over, and he gave her a nod. “No rest for the wicked, I guess. It’s been a busy day. Talk to you later, Ethan. Good to meet you, Donovan.”

  “You never mentioned you knew him before he opened the pub,” Donovan said.

  “You never asked.” Ethan shrugged. “He worked at a pub around the corner from the university Tomas and I attended before he saved up enough for this one. He was after guinea pigs to try some of his recipes, and in exchange we got cheap, delicious food. We were poor, starving students, so it was an offer we couldn’t refuse.”

  “I wouldn’t have refused it either, even if I wasn’t a poor starving student.” Donovan wondered if there was more to the story than Ethan was telling. “Free beer too?”

  Ethan frowned. “Why would he give us free beer? He was testing his recipes, and besides, as I said, it was cheap food. I didn’t say it was free food. He still had to cover his costs, and neither of us were great cooks.”

  “I was kidding about the beer.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course you were. It’s difficult to tell if you’re joking or not sometimes.” Ethan stared at Donovan for a moment before changing the subject yet again. “So what do you think about this robbery business? I think it’s only a matter of time before the police catch up with these men.”

  “Two men and one woman, according to what Doug told us.” Donovan had noticed the wording of the news report. The statement had been careful not to give any information away. “I wonder if the report is an attempt to flush them out, get them running scared. There’s no way of telling. Still, I’m glad Heidi’s having dinner with Doug tonight, especially as we’ll be home late.”

  “She strikes me as very capable,” Ethan said, “but even so, I’d be worried about her too, with some bloke—or woman—on the loose with a gun.”

  “It doesn’t matter how capable you are if someone has a gun to your head,” Donovan said softly. “There are ways to disarm them, but it’s still a huge risk, even if you’re trained to do it.”

  “That sounds like the voice of experience,” Ethan said. “You said something about Marines before. Do you know someone who is a Marine?” He looked thoughtful.

  Crap, was he putting two and two together? The last thing Donovan needed was to have him come up with five.

  Donovan
drained his coffee and stood. “Miles is right. We have a long drive ahead before we get home. We’d better get going.”

  “I DON’T believe this!” Donovan turned the key in the ignition again, but all he got for his trouble was a loud clicking noise.

  “Turn the key again?” Ethan suggested. Although he knew next to nothing about cars, he figured trying again was always worth a shot.

  Donovan shrugged but did what Ethan suggested. “Nope, not as simple as that,” he grumbled. He popped the bonnet and climbed out of the Land Rover. “I’m gonna take a look. Hopefully it’s nothing too serious or expensive.”

  After a few moments, and listening to a couple of muttered swear words, Ethan unclipped his seat belt and joined Donovan. “Found something?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” Donovan held up one of the few things Ethan recognized as a car part.

  “It’s the distributor cap,” Ethan said. “If there’s something wrong with it, that’s not good, is it?”

  Donovan turned it upside down and showed Ethan where it was cracked. “No, but could be worse. We aren’t going anywhere until I get a new one. I can replace it myself, but I need the part. It’s going to be a long night.”

  “No, it’s not,” Ethan said firmly. “You’ve already driven a good distance, and you’ve had an important meeting. Miles lives over the pub, and it’s a safe neighborhood. We’ll get the new cap in the morning, and you can fix it then.” He took a deep breath. “In the meantime, it’s not as though we need to find a hotel. I’ll phone a taxi, and we can spend the night at my flat.”

  “This feels like a conspiracy with both vehicles having problems,” Donovan muttered. “First mine and now Heidi’s.” He put the distributor cap back and closed the bonnet. “No one’s going anywhere in her tonight anyway. Are you sure it’s okay to stay at your flat?”

  “It’s fine,” Ethan reassured him, “and it’s not as though I have a flatmate to piss off by having someone stay at short notice.”