Page 29 of Cold Winter Nights

Royal tensed, his breath catching as Stone’s dominating aura pulled him in. His body tightened but he’d be damned if he glanced away from Stone’s captivating blue eyes. He smelled of earth and sweet pine sap.

Without a word, Stone removed his thick work gloves, then took a step forward.

Stone reached out, his hand brushing over his shoulder before his fingers found his scarf.

Royal stopped breathing. Stone’s touch was steady, so quiet and deliberate. He felt the pull of the fabric as Stone adjusted the scarf around his neck.

“Up in the mountains, scarves aren’t just for fashion, city boy,” Stone rumbled, sparking electricity below his belt.

Royal bit his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning loud enough for the people watching to hear.

“I’ll be done with work in a couple hours.” Stone tucked the ends of Royal’s scarf into his coat and zipped it all the way up. “Be ready at six.”

Royal’s heart raced. “What are you making me for dinner?”

Stone’s eyes widened. “Shit. I didn’t’ think that about that.”

“Excuse me.”

“I can’t cook.”

Royal laughed, and as if Stone liked the sound, he inched in closer.

“I’ll ask Myra to make us something.”

Stone gave a slow nod. “Sounds good. Real good.”

The air between them hung heavy. The town square became a blur in Royal’s periphery. He didn’t give a damn about the eyes that might be on them. It didn’t matter.

All he cared about was that he’d be alone with Bo tonight, in his home, with a bed.

Stone

Stone couldn’t have been more mesmerized than he was in that moment. Maybe it was the fact that Royal no longer seemed intimidated by him or the town. And that damn text conversation last night, Stone didn’t know what the hell had gotten into his shy city boy. But the boldness growing in him made Stone want to rise to the challenge.

He stared at Royal as he made his way back down Main street with easy, confident strides. He could stand there and watch Royal from that angle all day.

But the quicker he finished his work, the sooner he could have Royal in his arms, and his bed.

Stone didn’t let his eyes linger too long. He went back to the steady rhythm of axes chopping into trees, and the crack and splintering of wood, until his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of laughter.

“I’ll be damned.” Oliver’s deep voice was heavy with amusement. “I been living here five years and I’ve never once seen you flirt with anyone. Just couldn’t resist that big city energy, huh, Stone?”

Stone didn’t bother to turn around. He didn’t need to because he knew where this was going. Instead he hefted another couple of pieces of lumber onto his shoulder and walked them across the short clearing.

The whole damn crew was watching him, half of them trying not to laugh too loud, the other half grinning as if they’d just seen a wolf mark its mate.

“Shut up, Oliver,” Stone growled. “Get back to work.”

“Ah, come on, big man,” Oliver pressed, sounding as if he were enjoying himself. “You and the city slicker looked real cozy over there. Didn’t know you were into the young ones.”

Stone’s jaw tightened.

“Uh oh, looks like my scarf is a bit out of place…can you fix it for me, Stone?”

Stone swiveled to face the crew, giving them a look so sharp he knew it could cut concrete. “You’re not even wearing a damn scarf, dumbass.”

His guys roared with laughter but Stone had little to no humor and was running out of patience. It was as if the more he spoke, the less seriously they took him.

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