Elliot, Song of the Soulmate (Love Austen 5)

“Where does this leave us on our hike tomorrow?” Louisa asked. “Are you coming, Elliot?”

Elliot looked at them one by one, Wentworth last. He was bowed over his beer, staring intently into it. “It’s a loop track. My house is close to the start of it, pick me up when you’re ready to go.”

What on Earth was Elliot doing to himself?

This was playing with fire, this was. He should have declined, left the others to it. He didn’t want to witness more of . . . whatever might be happening with Wentworth and Louisa. He ought to be more sensible.

But just because he’d studied psychology and understood people did things that were unhealthy for them, didn’t mean he was any less susceptible to doing them himself. The heart had a way of overwriting sense, and Elliot had immediately submitted to it.

He wanted to be close to Wentworth. He liked the feeling of his soul coming back to life. “Even if it is one-sided,” he whispered to his showered (cold shower, stupid pipes) and ready reflection.

The bell rang, and Elliot answered it in a rush.

He expected the lot of them to be crammed into his porch but instead, the rugged boots on his welcome mat were Wentworth’s. Durable shorts, an open shirt over a tighter one, a daypack slung over his shoulders. He still had the beard but it’d been trimmed. A little shorter than the days before. Wentworth had always been handsome in Elliot’s memory, but the first time he’d seen that beard . . . he’d stopped for minutes in the magazine aisle of the supermarket staring at him on the cover. He’d somehow coped seeing Wentworth moving on, knowing all the ways Wentworth could be sexy. Knowing he’d had claim to all his firsts.

But Elliot didn’t know what Wentworth’s short beard grazing his inner thighs would feel like, and by God his jealousy . . . that flaring, painful heat in his gut. The dozens of times he’d imagined knowing this too.

Yes. Elliot had submitted himself to a day of torture. “Where are the others?”

“Disappointed?”

Not at all. Elliot looked at him, brow gently raised. “Do you want an honest answer to that?”

Wentworth stilled and shoved his hands into his pockets. “They’re in the parking area. They don’t know where you live, I do. I offered to grab you.”

“Let’s go then.” Elliot took his parka off the hallway hook and slipped into it. He’d just shut his door when Mary came out onto her porch, waving at him furiously.

“Mary.”

“Oh, so glad I caught you,” she said, flustered. Mary was always bright red and flustered.

“Just a sec.” It was too much effort to yell over the fence. He inclined his head for Wentworth to follow and met Mary at her porch.

She smiled, eyes zipping curiously between Elliot and Wentworth. “You were here yesterday. Elliot, where are you and your—?”

“Colleague,” Elliot supplied, only just maintaining a smile.

“Where are you and your gorgeous colleague headed off to?”

Her eyes glued to Wentworth like she vaguely recognised him, and Wentworth answered. “A hike through the woods.”

Delight filled her eyes. “Well that’s just perfect.” She looked at Elliot. “You can take Honey.”

She kept eyeing Wentworth like some prize meat.

“Honey loves the outdoors and I am really quite busy today. An old friend wants me to visit and she’s allergic to dogs, which means I’d have to leave poor Honey here, and—”

“We’ll take him, Mary.” Elliot said shortly. He called for Honey, who bounded outside toward them. “But I do have to wonder why you have a dog when you never have any time to be there for him. Or to train him.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Elliot. I love Honey.”

“Saying it and showing it are two different things,” he said, reaching inside the door where he knew the lead was. “The latter, far more important.”

Elliot clipped the lead on Honey’s collar and found both Mary and Wentworth staring at him. Mary bright red, embarrassed, and Wentworth contemplative.

“Ready?” Elliot asked.

Wentworth stepped off the porch. “Yes.” He nodded kindly to Mary, which made Elliot feel like a tool. “We’ll take good care of him, Mary.”

She huffed, but it didn’t change her mind about sending Honey off with Elliot. The door shut loudly behind them.

“Let’s pack you some dog biscuits.” Elliot kissed Honey between the ears and Wentworth held out his arms for a chance to do the same. Elliot shivered at the soft kiss Wentworth gave Honey. Right on the same spot Elliot had . . .

Wentworth glanced at him.

“I know. I could have been more sensitive.”

“You spoke your heart,” Wentworth said gruffly—sadly. “That’s what counts.”

This was a horrible decision.

Cameron and Henry were charging through the woods, ahead of everyone, and Elliot lagged behind them all with Honey, trying to put distance between himself and the show Wentworth and Louisa were putting on.