Page 87 of Snowed In

Again.

Owen followed slower, studying me with shrewd eyes as he clambered to his feet. “Any questions?”

“Nope. Would you like a tea or coffee?”

He bit his lip as though he was trying not to laugh. “Um, no, thank you. The taps won’t be working right now with the water being off.”

I closed my eyes as I berated myself internally. When I opened them, I could’ve sworn Owen was staring at me. He looked away too fast for me to be sure.

He’s probably wondering if there’s a reason behind your stupidity.

There was, but not one I could share with him. It was just, when I was in the same space as Owen, all common sense and intelligence seemed to vanish like mist.

“I’ll leave you to it,” I said. The last thing he probably wanted was me hovering over him while he worked. “Give me a shout if you need anything.”

Chapter Four

Owen

It didn’t take me long to locate and mend the leak. From the state of the pipes, I suspected the whole system needed to be replaced.

The entire time I worked, I tried to come up with a reason why I needed Rory back in the kitchen with me. It was agonising knowing he was only a room away but I couldn’t chat to him.

I’d already made him uncomfortable though. Just brushing up against him under the sink had had him stiffening.

It’d had me stiffening too, but in a different way. All it had taken was his head tilting towards mine and the realisation that there was nothing between us but a few inches of air and I’d been hard as a rock.

From how Rory had scrambled out and practically fled though, the feeling wasn’t mutual. It didn’t matter if I was interested, Rory wasn’t.

What was more, I was making him uncomfortable and I hated it. My mam had drilled the importance of consent and respect into me at a young age. When I’d come out to her as bisexual, she’d reminded me that the same principle applied regardless of gender. It hadn’t been needed, but she’d given it all the same.

So, while I would’ve loved having him back in the room with me, I refrained from coming up with a reason. Instead, I focused on getting the job finished as quickly and efficiently as possible.

With everything fixed, I cleared up the mess I’d made. Rory had tried to mop up the flood with a few towels, so I used them to wipe up what he’d missed. If nothing else, I could make sure he had water and a clean space to enjoy Christmas in.

After flicking the stopcock back on and checking the water flow, I was satisfied that everything was sorted. Grabbing my toolbox, I followed the noise of the TV down the short hallway.

A small grin tugged at my lips as I took in the festive sight. A fake tree stood in the corner, covered in all sorts of ornaments. There didn’t seem to be a theme. I could see candy canes, baubles, even Disney characters, and he’d added some red and gold tinsel in an almost nineties throwback. Strangely, together it all just…worked.

It wasn’t just the tree that had been decorated. Fairy lights in the shape of gingerbread men wound around a bookcase, while candles flickered in hollowed-out ceramic houses, setting a beautiful glow around the room. There were even several Christmas gonks arranged in a corner. Rory was curled up on the sofa, a cheery red blanket covered in reindeer over his lap.

“All done.”

Rory jumped, startled. “Great!”

He got to his feet fast. Too fast. I saw what was about to happen a second before it did. The blanket that had been on his lap was tangled around his legs. As he tried to take a step, it tightened, sending Rory careening forwards.

Dropping my toolbox with a clatter, I leapt towards him with my arms outstretched, and he gave a gentleoofas I caught him. His weight threw me off balance, so I hauled him against me to steady us both. He gripped my biceps as he swayed into me, his chest pressed to mine.

“You okay?”

“Yes.” He blinked up at me, looking startled. He was fuckingadorable, from his tousled curls to his full lips. “Thank you. I’m not sure why I keep making a tit of myself around you.”

Chuckling, I forced myself to let him go. “At least you weren’t holding hot coffee this time.”

“Small mercies.” He stepped back, folding his arms over his chest almost protectively. He eyed the distance between us before taking three more steps back.

“I won’t touch you,” I said gruffly, unable to stand his discomfort another second without reassuring him. “I’m sorry I did then, but I didn’t want you hurting yourself.”

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