Connor kicked the deflated football he found in the long grass. It flopped pathetically to one side and he realised he felt pretty much like the broken leather—airless and devoid of life.
Way to be moronically dramatic.
He kicked it again. This time his toe caught the leather just in the right place and the broken ball soared through the air, over the tangled hedge and into the road beyond. For a brief shining moment the ball was fulfilling its purpose and the irony of the situation didn’t escape Connor. For a while, when he was with Ash, he felt like he could keep a lid on all the anxieties inside him and actually even be almost normal.
But when he’d woken up early with dawn’s light spilling in through open drapes, he’d taken one look at a sleeping Ash and left. It wasn’t so much the fact that Ash was sleeping or that he looked so at peace or any embarrassment after last night; the bruises on his hip were what made Connor run. He’d put them there and when he splayed his hand and hovered it over the marks, his fingers matched up exactly.
He could have stayed. Ash said it was the hottest thing he’d ever done, but Connor hated the fact he felt like he was just on the edge of losing it.
He hadn’t run far. Just to the house, to stand in the middle of the kitchen and consider the logistics of removing this wall to open up the larder area. The house was quiet, the lane was empty, hell, the whole world was still.
“Thought I’d find you here,” Ash said from the open door.
Connor turned slowly, gauging what to say to Ash. Sorry I ran seemed like it would be too much; just plain sorry, too little.
“Hey,” Connor chose instead.
They looked steadily at each other, and then Ash moved and pressed a hand against the wall next to Connor.
“I don’t think it’s a retaining wall,” he confirmed. “But you’d need to get someone out to check. But it’s a good idea to open it up, you’d get a bigger kitchen, and you could put a door here to the sitting room so you don’t have to use the hallway.”
Connor listened to Ash talk, to the shape of his words, and the way he crouched to the floor to run his hands along where the stone floor met the wall. He touched everything with such reverence, like he could feel something more than Connor ever could.
“Are you angry with me?” Connor asked.
Ash looked up at him, confusion on his face. “Why would I be angry with you?”
“I knew I’d fuck it all up.”
Ash pushed on his knees to stand up and brushed off his hands. He was playing for time, considering what to say. “It’s okay for me to wake up and you not be there.”
“I know what you thought.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Ash teased. “I was sad we didn’t do the morning blowjob thing, but that’s fine.”
Ash deserved honesty, and with a fortifying breath, Connor said exactly what was in his head. “I get all wrapped up in my head and start thinking things I shouldn’t. I can tell myself just to go with the flow, but then you make me feel something and I begin to say it won’t last and I see the end of this and I think, why bother when it’s all going to end anyway?”
Ash stepped closer and held out a hand, which Connor took. “That is brutally honest,” he commented. “You want to know what’s in my head?” This was clearly a rhetorical question as he forged ahead anyway. “You were right in the garden of the White Hart that time. I haven’t had any serious relationships. That was for Ben and Landon to do, not me, I could do what I wanted and I chose to do the opposite of what was expected. Then of course I met you, and now I’d like to see what happens after the summer, long-distance relationship, or if I decided I wanted to do something else with my life… I don’t know. My head is in just as much of a mess.”
“I don’t scare you off?”
Ash laced his fingers with Connor’s. “Do I scare you?”
Connor huffed a laugh. “Not anymore.”
“There you go, then. We’re both idiots and we both need to think about what happens in September, after the summer ends.”
Connor impulsively kissed Ash. “I can do that.”
“And I know where to start. We should do this kitchen together.”
Connor grimaced. “Between buying in on the practice and buying this place, I don’t have much left over.”
“Doesn’t have to be expensive,” Ash commented. He released the hold on Connor’s hand and opened the door of the nearest cupboard. “It isn’t always about money. These are solid cabinets, we could work at stripping them, project work, hours when neither of us are busy. What do you think?”
“You’d do that?” Connor asked.
Ash put his hands on his hips. “Consider it an investment in the place I’ll be staying in when I’m in Upper Fordham.”
Connor couldn’t resist the man; he kissed him soundly and backed him up against the work surface, lifting him a little so Ash was sitting on the side with his legs spread and Connor between them. In this position it was so easy to kiss and feel in control and there was no need to hold Ash still. Connor cradled Ash’s face and kissed him more, and Ash moaned into the kiss.
A knock at the door had them separating, Ash looking a little dazed. Connor turned to the door and saw a shadow in the frosted glass. He stepped away, adjusted himself and opened the door to see Mick walking away from the house.
“Mick?” Connor called and followed him down the path. Mick turned to look at him once, his face pale, his lips in a set line, and realisation stabbed at him. He hurried his step, coming out to Church Lane and seeing Mick’s beat-up truck to one side. The door was open and Connor went straight to the open door. He saw what he feared: Bessie on her side, her breathing laboured.
“I wanted her to go in her sleep, but she didn’t, and she can’t breathe.”
Connor placed a hand on Mick’s arm. “Let’s go to the surgery.” He climbed into the truck looking to where Ash stood on the step between property and lane. They exchanged a nod, then, before he could even get his belt on, Mick was driving down through Upper Fordham and onto Aston and the surgery.
They didn’t speak, the sound of Bessie’s breathing laboured over the noise of the engine. Poor dog was close to the end of things, Connor was sure of it, and Mick was absolutely silent. Mick pulled the car into the staff parking and killed the engine. Just as Connor was about to move, Mick placed a hand on his arm.
“Don’t fight for her,” he murmured.
Connor nodded. Between the two of them, they got her inside, Connor opening doors, Mick cradling Bessie. They made it to the treatment room and as soon as Bessie was laid on her side, he checked her vitals. She wasn’t doing well, it was only a matter of time, and Connor needed to suggest euthanizing Bessie.
“Mick?” he asked quietly.
Mick’s old eyes filled with tears and he placed a hand tenderly on her muzzle, stroking up and back over silky ears and down her back. She was more grey than black and white now, wise beyond her age, and she looked at Mick with absolute trust.
“Time to go, Bessie,” he said gently. Then he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and hugged her gently. “I’ll see you soon,” he added so quietly that Connor almost missed it.
Connor prepared the injection, but when he turned back, she had stopped breathing and was silent. With Mick’s hands on her and his cheek to her fur, she had sighed and agreed it was time to go with eyes closed and chest still.
Connor tried to keep a lid on the flood of emotion, attempted to stay professional. He checked all he could to make sure she was gone, then respectfully picked up the meds and left the room, closing the door behind him. Mick’s heart was big, but it might well have just broken.
* * * * *
The day didn’t get any better. Ash had to drive to Surrey to talk to the company he was working with, Rachel was with Landon and Connor didn’t want to interrupt. Instead he stayed at the surgery and dealt with paperwork and inventory and accounts, and in fact anything he could to keep focused.
When Ash arrived to take him away from it at just after four, he had compassion in his expression.
“Must be so hard,” he murmured as he hugged Connor close. Then he said nothing more about it as they ate dinner at The Wychwood and walked back to the Grange. They made love in the moonlight-filled room, and Connor had stopped feeling so sad, and resolved to make sure to check in on Mick in a few days.
“Are you okay?” Ash finally asked. “I hate asking questions like that, it’s so generic.”
Connor nodded. “It was a very sad thing to see a connection as old as that gone. People love their pets like family, I know what it’s like.”
“You don’t have any pets, though.”
“I want a dog. When I settle, I’m getting a dog and maybe a couple of cats.”
“Love you, love your cats and dogs,” Ash said with a laugh.
“Yeah. For all they’re part of your life, it’s hard when they cross the Rainbow Bridge.”
“Is Mick okay? Stupid question, I know.”
Connor glanced at him. “He was quiet. But when he left, he said what a lot of owners say when they lose a pet, that they were in a better place and that he’d miss her every minute of his life until he saw her again.”
Ash nodded. “I wonder what Ben would do if he was here at home? I should go visit him. What should I take?”
“Just yourself and some kind words.”
“Ben would know what to take, what to do. I’m so remote from the estate and the people.” Ash sounded frustrated with himself and Connor’s protective instinct kicked in. He wasn’t entirely sure why smart, confident, funny Ash was being so hard on himself.
“I think you’ll do okay.”
Ash huffed and the noise was laced with irritation. “I’m buried in numbers and profit calculations. Too many meetings in London with the tax office and not enough connection to what should have been important.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Connor poked him in the side. “Now, get some sleep and think on this in the morning.”
They curled up together and slept. And when morning came, he was still in bed with Ash, and Connor knew he’d made the biggest step he could.