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“We can host next weekend if you’re up for it?”
“Sure. Or. Wait.” Elliot’s chest fluttered. “When does your taste testing thing end? Are you free in the afternoon? What about Noah?”
“His dad took a turn for the worse—I suspect he’ll be at his side, and consoling Zachary.”
“He’s a good brother.”
“The best. Behind Fin, but I’m biased.”
Elliot smiled.
“Anyway, Fin and I are wide open. What’re you thinking?”
“How about a hike? To the hazelnut grove? I’ll ask Wentworth along.”
A pleased laugh met his suggestion. “Are you and he . . .?”
Wentworth hadn’t told him he was being absurd, outside the theatre. Hadn’t suggested he was making a fool of himself. There had been something indescribable in his eyes. Like it’d taken all his will not to take up Elliot’s offer to come back here.
And yet, some weight had settled on him. Wentworth was hesitant, under the joy.
“We’re working through something.”
“Sounds mysterious.”
“But I want him to be part of things, even if . . . Well, you know.”
“Elliot and Wentworth part two? Count me in. I hope it has a better ending than part one.”
Honey yipped and yapped, tail wagging, when Elliot brought him onto Wentworth’s boat next morning. They’d bought a mat of fake grass and pee pads and set it at the bow. “Potty training on a boat 101.” Wentworth walked Honey on a leash to his new toilet spot.
Honey jumped onto the grass and sat, wagging his tail.
“Now what?” Elliot said, smirking. It might take more than a few sessions for Honey to figure this out.
Wentworth rubbed a hand over his beard. He crouched down and had a one-to-one with Honey that did absolutely nothing except make Elliot grin.
The longer it took Honey to get the idea, the more times Elliot could come by to . . . practice.
“I think we’ll have to rub his scent over the grass.”
“Isn’t he doing that?”
“I mean his poop, Elliot. Then he’ll learn what the area is for.”
“That’s actually sorta perfect.”
“Is it?”
“It plays into something I need from you.”
Eyebrows lifted. “You need something?”
“Yes. I wondered if you’d spend the afternoon with me. And my friends.”
Wentworth’s posture straightened. “You want me to meet your friends?”
“For a hike. In like an hour.” Elliot licked his dry lips. “Will you come?”
Wentworth glanced down at Honey. It didn’t disguise his smile at all.
“Sure, bumblebee.”
It felt just like the last hike, but so different.
The weather was similarly warm, the fallen pine needles as fresh, but ahead of Elliot and Honey, Ethan and Finley were bantering with Wentworth.
Elliot drifted behind, watching them, listening. It warmed him how many questions Wentworth had. What does it feel like having thirty kindergarten kids looking up to you, Ethan? Finley, which of your books should I start with? What places have you seen?
“How did this brunch thing with Elliot get started?”
“Uh, we were living next door when . . .” Ethan lowered his voice. “After his mum died. We would have offered, but . . .”
Wentworth stared at Ethan and Finley, stalling mid-step. Honey stopped too, impeccable timing, to do his business.
Finley explained, “He knocked on our door and asked us.”
“To brunch?”
“To help him.”
Ethan slid his fingers between Finley’s. “We haven’t stopped. We all help each other.”
Elliot focused on Honey. He didn’t need to look over to understand Wentworth’s sudden silence. He pictured him, throat jutting as he stared at the space distancing him from Elliot.
When Wentworth spoke again, his voice was gravelly. “I’m glad he . . . I’m glad you have that.”
“There’s a detour to a lookout here. Did you want to—”
“Yes.”
Finley called to Elliot, asking him if he wanted to join.
Wentworth’s expression was tight, like he was holding his breath. Honey tugged on the lead, pulling Elliot and his wildly beating heart forwards. “I’m staying. Careful up there. No falling.”
Finley saluted him. “Ethan?”
“I’ll just walk about the hazels.”
Wentworth and Finley crunched through foliage, their voices quickly fading. Elliot closed the distance between him and Ethan and gestured to the grove of hazel trees. “Shall we explore together?”
Ethan gave Honey a big ol’ rub and they descended a slope toward the massive trees. “Know much about hazels?”
Only what he’d overheard from Wentworth.
“Everything I need to.”
Ethan looked at him, lifting a questioning brow.
“That is, not much, but I like what I know.” Long grass tickled their ankles and hazelnuts littered the ground. Twigs snapped behind them, and out the corner of his eye, he noticed Wentworth had returned, Finley further behind. Had the path been blocked, like some of the others they’d seen on the hike?
Elliot felt like a mess of goosebumps down one side. He swapped Honey’s line from this hand to the other. “I like how adaptable they are. How they can weather all storms.”
Wentworth halted his step. Elliot knew his voice would carry. “I’d like to see that in action.”
Honey pulled at the lead and yipped.
