The Impetuous Afflictions of Jonathan Wolfe by Charlie Cochet

Author:Charlie Cochet
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

BREAKFAST WAS interesting to say the least. Henry took a seat beside me, his hand on my knee beneath the table as we ate, even while he was talking to Ben, who had taken a seat to his other side. Throughout breakfast, Henry sneaked glances at me, always a smile on his face. I knew Chance suspected something, especially since I couldn’t keep myself from grinning like a sap the whole time, and it only got worse when Henry spoke to me, the way he leaned in, the way his lips curled up in a sweet smile, or his hand brushing against some part of me.

It was all very confusing. Was this what it felt like to be happy and in love? I only knew of the painful side, the agony, the fear. Yet last night, Henry had me feeling things I had never felt before. What I knew of love, I had learned from watching Jacky and Chance: the little smiles, the whispers, how one of them was always touching the other. Even in public there were the subtle gestures, a hand on the shoulder, a pat on the back, a quick brush of hands, like they couldn’t bear not to feel the other one there.

I offered Chance the last slice of buttered toast, and he narrowed his eyes at me. Usually it was a battle between the two of us for that last piece. I couldn’t hold back my laugh.

“What? I didn’t do anything to it,” I told him.

He took it from me, his lips pressed together in a tight line. Quite frankly, I was surprised at him. He was usually the first to suss things out. Chance had a talent for sniffing out deception.

“You’re up to something,” Chance grumbled when Jacky chuckled and shook his head. He leaned over to whisper in Chance’s ear and I watched as his blue eyes went huge and his jaw dropped. He looked from me to Henry and back.

“Well halle-fucking-lujah!” Chance exclaimed, bringing the breakfast room and everyone in it to a screeching halt. Somewhere toward the end of the room, a silver dish clattered to the floor, shattering the stunned silence.

“Mr. Irving!” Mrs. Whitmore gasped in horror. “Language!”

Chance’s face went bright red as it dawned on him we were at breakfast with all the Brats and several of the kitchen staff, all of them gaping at him. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

“Language!”

“I’m sorry!” he squawked, everyone except Mrs. Whitmore bursting into laughter. He glared at me from across the table, before arching an eyebrow and muttering under his breath. “It’s about goddamn time.”

“For what?” Ben asked, looking from Chance to me and back. I felt rather guilty. Ben was a nice enough fellow, and I had no doubt a part of his wanting to come down had been in the hopes of getting more intimate with Henry.

“Nothing,” Chance and I replied simultaneously, causing poor Henry to nearly choke on his scrambled eggs. Both Ben and I went to pat him on the back, but Henry only noticed my hand, smiling at me, and thanking me as he coughed.

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