Chapter Two
Four weeks later, Jack had to admit that the quest for finding a prospective spouse was going to be more of a challenge than he'd anticipated.
He'd cast a wide net, using every conceivable means available to the tech-savvy, twenty-first century bachelor. He'd been on over a dozen dates – or interviews as he preferred to think of them – all to no avail, not counting the couple of times when he'd given into his baser desires with a physically appealing candidate. He'd even subjected himself to an evening of speed dating, which in theory had sounded like an efficient way of going about things, but in reality had been more akin to a nightmarish journey into the Twilight Zone. He was still feeling traumatised by the experience.
Of course his standards were high, plus he had to rethink his usual criteria and look beyond physical attributes. That in itself was proving to be difficult since considering people in terms of relationship worthiness was unfamiliar territory for him. For the first time, he was looking for someone who appealed to him not only physically, but who also excited him in a deeper, more profound, potentially long-lasting way – someone he could happily spend time with both inside and outside of the bedroom. He might not have had much in the way of experience with being in an actual relationship, but he knew physical attraction wouldn't be enough. He needed to find an emotional connection. Still, it was early days and he'd known it wouldn't be easy, despite what he'd said to Owen. He remained optimistic that if he kept searching he'd eventually find himself a match.
He took a sip of the coffee the big, friendly Welshman had put down in front of him a few moments earlier and felt his eyebrows lift with surprise. The coffee was exceptional. He wasn't an expert in the art of coffee making, nor did he consider himself a connoisseur, but coffee had been one of his vices from an early age and he knew what he liked. He took another sip and savoured the rich, dark flavour as he studied the unfamiliar surroundings with greater interest. It had been Owen's idea to try this place instead of their usual haunt down at Mermaid Quay. Apparently it had only been open for a couple of months or so, Owen having found out about it from one of the nurses he worked with at the hospital, who had proclaimed the coffee to die for and the baked goods on offer even better.
Tucked away in a quiet street in Riverside, just south of the stadium and train station, the modestly-sized bakery and coffee shop had a cosy, almost quaint feel about it. Warm-coloured, hardwood floors blended with a mixture of exposed brick and plaster walls painted in a relaxing shade of deep red. The lower sections of the walls featured wood panelling in the same colour as the flooring. The main counter along one side was also done in warm timber and combined pleasingly with the gleaming stainless steel display cabinets and coffee machines. Several large boards on the wall behind the counter, black with bold white text, listed the shop's offerings, and a handful of framed prints of local landmarks dotted the remaining wall space. The chairs and tables were an eclectic mix of mismatched pieces, probably all second-hand, but appearing to be of good quality and condition. Some of the chairs were simple, sturdy wooden pieces, while others were upholstered in various darker shades of leather. Everything appeared to be impeccably clean, and the overall ambiance had unpretentious character and charm. Jack liked it, and given the coffee was some of the best he'd ever tasted, he decided he'd definitely be coming back.
Owen looked at him from over the rim of his cup. A tell-tale smirk played across his thin lips. "So, what's the latest on the search for Mr. or Ms. Right?"
Jack shrugged with as much nonchalance as he could muster. "It's a work in progress." He grinned at his friend. "Don't worry, Owen. Once I find him or her, you'll be the first to know."
Owen gave him a knowing look, but somehow managed to refrain from making any acerbic comments. Instead, he proceeded to chat enthusiastically about the latest episode of 'The Walking Dead'. Jack had always been more of a vampire guy himself, but Owen had a strange fixation on all things zombie. They both watched the show and regularly shared their thoughts on it. He would never admit it to Owen, but he mostly watched to see which of the many annoying characters would be eaten next by the relentless hordes of the undead.
They had one of their usual spirited discussions, and Jack put down his empty coffee cup as Owen was once again trying to convince him to read the comic book series on which the television show was based. Or graphic novels, as Owen pedantically insisted on calling them.
The sound of a throat being cleared caught Jack's attention. He looked up and straightened in his chair as he found himself staring into a pair of gorgeous blue eyes set in the handsome face of a tall, dark-haired man. Jack felt the breath catch in his throat.
The owner of the gorgeous eyes flashed them an apologetic smile. "Hello. Sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering if either of you would like another cup of coffee? Or perhaps something to eat?"
The man's voice was deep, melodious and unmistakeably Welsh, replete with the beautiful, distinctive vowels Jack adored. And, as he dragged his gaze from those stormy blue irises, he found the rest of the man to be equally captivating.
His short, well-groomed hair was the colour of dark chocolate. Slightly wavy, it was styled with the judicious use of product and swept back from a smooth forehead. Together with neat sideburns ending just shy of the bottoms of his ears, the dark hair contrasted appealingly with the man's pale, smooth, clean-shaven skin. High cheekbones, an adorable button-shaped nose, slightly down-turned, full lips and a strong jawline completed the features of the almost boyish face.
Probably in his mid-twenties, perhaps a little older, the man appeared to be around the same height as Jack's own six-foot stature, give or take half an inch. His build was lean, but not to the point of being skinny, with shoulders wide enough to be in perfect proportion with the rest of his body. The man's attire was also attractive, consisting of charcoal grey pinstriped trousers, black leather lace-up shoes and a deep blue shirt complemented by a tie in a darker shade of blue with subtle red and grey diagonal stripes. Over the smart clothes was a crisp white apron with the shop's name – Myfanwy's – embroidered in red cursive lettering in one corner, matching the shop's white cups with the same red lettering.
The clothing seemed too businesslike for someone who worked in a bakery, causing Jack to be all the more intrigued. The man was stunning, and his posture as he stood before them, spine straight and shoulders back, suggested he knew how to carry his lithe, long-limbed body well. He projected an air of calm, unflappable stoicism, appearing both graceful and quietly capable.
"Who are you?" Jack blurted out the question before he could stop himself.
The man's neat, dark eyebrows came together in a small frown, his eyes widening slightly as they fixed upon Jack with their intriguing mix of soulfulness and keen intelligence. On some people, blue eyes could seem cold and unapproachable, but these eyes were warm and sparkling with life. They conveyed a sense of shrewdness and maturity, yet also teased with a hint of wit and mischief, suggesting a dry sense of humour.
"Ianto... Ianto Jones." The man's voice carried a hint of wariness. "I'm the owner."
Jack looked at the man with surprise, having assumed he was an employee. Even his name was delicious, and it took Jack a few moments to recover from hearing the sound of that beautiful Welsh voice again.
He held out his hand to Ianto. "Jack Harkness. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ianto Jones." Unintentionally, his American accent had become a little more pronounced as he'd said Ianto's name.
Ianto looked slightly suspicious as he took Jack's hand, shaking it with a brief but firm grip. Ianto's hands were warm and strong, yet also elegant, his fingers long and lean. Jack noted they were devoid of any form of jewellery.
Belatedly remembering his manners, he gestured towards Owen. "Ianto, this is Owen Harper."
"Doctor Owen Harper." Owen gave Jack an admonishing glare.
Jack refrained from rolling his eyes at his prickly friend. "Owen's a doctor at St. Helen's Hospital." Focusing his attention on Ianto again, he noticed an adorable little freckle on the bridge of Ianto's nose, just slightly to one side.
Ianto gave them a polite smile. "A pleasure to meet you both." He nodded at their empty cups. "Can I get you anything else?"
Jack gave the Welshman his best dazzling smile, unleashing his pearly whites and dimples to maximum effect. "Absolutely. We'll both have another cup of coffee." He rattled off their previous coffee order, then peered across at the display cabinets and spotted a tray of doughnuts he was sure hadn't been there a few minutes earlier. "Are those jam doughnuts?" He glanced at Owen, who shrugged in reply. "We'll have two of those as well."
Ianto nodded and smoothly collected their empty cups. "I'll be back in just a couple of minutes."
Jack watched as Ianto retreated, studying the way the man's shoulders tapered down to his trim waist. His gaze lingered on the Welshman's firm backside, the dark trousers clinging to the swell of rounded flesh in a very appealing manner. He continued to watch as Ianto went about preparing their coffees with obvious skill and efficiency. Then, reluctantly, he turned his attention back to Owen.
Owen groaned as they made eye contact again. "Hell's bells. You've gone all gooey-eyed."
Jack ignored the gibe. He leaned across the table, unable to hold back his excitement. Much to his astonishment, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had affected him quite like that. "Oh, my God." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "He's perfect, Owen. He's the one, I know it. Look at him, he's stunning. And did you hear his voice? That accent with all those beautiful Welsh vowels."
Owen gave him an incredulous look. "You only met him five seconds ago, Jack. He could be a serial killer for all you know. He's a good-looking bloke, though, I'll give you that. He's probably married or seeing someone."
"He isn't wearing a wedding ring." It was a weak argument, and Jack knew he was clutching at straws.
Owen's dubious expression agreed. "Even if he's single, he's most likely straight. The odds aren't exactly stacked in your favour, you know."
Jack waved a dismissive hand. "You know I don't care about that."
"Yeah, well, he might." Owen's voice dripped with his trademark sarcasm.
Jack made a derisive sound. He refused to believe the universe would drop this gorgeous man almost literally into his lap and then conspire to make him unobtainable. As much as he'd been trying to apply a more disciplined approach to his search, his gut instinct was telling him Ianto was something special. At the least, this was someone he definitely wanted to get to know and find out more about.
Owen rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know the spiel. You think the world's one big rainbow-coloured spectrum of sexual diversity. Doesn't change the facts, mate. Well over ninety-percent of the population identify as heterosexual." His expression softened. "Just don't get your hopes up, that's all I'm saying. Just because he's easy on the eye doesn't mean he's your future husband."
"Doesn't mean he isn't, either." Jack turned his attention back to Ianto and smiled warmly as the Welshman returned to their table with their cups of coffee.
"Here you go." Ianto returned to the counter and brought back a pair of plates with a jam doughnut on each one, putting them down beside their coffees.
"Thanks, mate."
Owen's voice caused Jack to realise he was staring into those captivating blue eyes again. Mentally shaking himself, he pulled out his wallet and distractedly handed over a ten pound note. "Thanks, Ianto. Keep the change."
Ianto smiled politely again. "Thank you, Jack. Hope you enjoy your coffees and doughnuts."
Jack put his wallet aside and picked up his doughnut, taking a big bite. His eyes widened in appreciation. "Wow, this is delicious. Nice and jammy."
He grinned up at Ianto, who had begun to move away, but then turned back to face him. An expression that seemed part horror, part amusement and part apology flashed over his handsome face.
Jack frowned in confusion. "What's wrong?"
Owen laughed, shaking his head. "You've got jam all over yourself, you twat."
Jack looked down at his jam covered fingers and then felt a dollop slide down his chin. "Oh." He grinned sheepishly. With a shrug, he put down the doughnut, wiped his thumb over his chin, and began licking the mess from his fingers.
"Sorry, my fault." Ianto hurried away and returned a moment later with several white paper napkins, putting a couple beside each of their plates and handing one to Jack. "I must have gotten a bit carried away with the jam today."
Jack took the napkin and continued cleaning himself up. "No harm done." He scrunched up the soiled napkin and looked back at Ianto with interest. "You made these?"
Ianto nodded with a hint of a self-conscious smile, and Jack decided that this man was the most adorable person he'd ever seen. Even the cutest of kittens or puppies would struggle to hold a candle to Ianto Jones. "That's right. We bake everything here fresh every day."
"Well, this is the best jam doughnut I've ever tasted." Jack gave the Welshman a playful wink. "Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. I'm a doughnut addict from way back."
The comment earned him another cautious smile and a soft, throaty chuckle that did something funny to Jack's chest. He watched as Ianto retreated once more, then sighed and picked up the doughnut again, this time taking a more cautious bite.
Chewing happily, he looked across at Owen, who was staring back at him with an expression somewhere between amusement and despair. "What now?"
Owen shook his head again. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, his lips curving into a smirk. "Well, I think it's safe to say you made quite an impression on baker boy."
"He likes me." Jack took a sip of coffee before munching on another bite of his doughnut. "I can tell. Besides, how could he not?"
With a goal now firmly in his sights, he just needed to formulate a plan. One way or another, he was going to seduce the delectable Ianto Jones.