Page 68 of Stolen

He wasn’t wrong. Even though I was used to the weather, it was easy to imagine that people who weren’t from Virginia would’ve been freezing. Bradley, of course, seemed completely unbothered by it, a fact that amused me to no end as I saw the miserable look on the rest of the guy’s faces.

“Couldn’t we have recruited a few more people? Maybe some of the photographers?” Chris continued. “They’re probably pretty good with their hands, aren’t they?”

“Right. They’re good with their hands. Which means, they can’t really risk injuring them, especially if they have a big shoot coming up,” Leo replied.

“Hey, our hands are worth something, too,” Andrew joined the conversation.

“Sure, but your hands are also all probably insured for millions. The photographers? Not so much.”

“He has a point there,” Diego murmured, before he slammed the car door behind him.

“All right, then. Where do we start, Leo?” Keith hopped out of the truck next, a broom held firmly in his hand. “Do we each just get started in different directions and meet back here in a few hours? Or?”

“I… actually don’t know,” Leo quietly admitted. “Maybe we should—I’m guessing it’s sort of like?—”

“First things first, Bradley and I will go look and see if they have any extra equipment,” I said, stepping in for Leo. “It’ll be easier if we can find some plows and some blowers. Some people can drive, some people can clean up behind the drivers.” I turned to look over at Leo. “But only if that sounds good to you, boss?”

“Yeah. That sounds good to me.” Leo smiled, still seeming like we were co-workers and nothing else. “Thanks for the save, Jacob.”

I nodded before I went on, “Now, show of hands time. Who wants to plow? And who wants to blow?”

There was a mixture of hands held up high in the air, and a few moments later, everyone had their assigned position. Surprisingly, I didn’t hear a lot of complaints throughout the day, as the guys played their roles and worked hard on the airstrip. Although, maybe I shouldn’t have been too shocked by that, since I was dealing with a group of guys who were used to being told what to do 24/7 and obviously had no issue with committing themselves to a specific role for years and years.

Throughout the clean-up, I’d tried and failed miserably to speak to Leo, one-on-one. I couldn’t tell if he was avoiding me on purpose or just genuinely busy, as he divided his time between sweeping up remnants of heavy snow and shooting off emails to various agents and managers. The most it seemed that I could get out of him was a small smile or a playful wink.

Nothing serious. Nothing vulnerable.

Nothing real.

When all was said and done, we piled back into Bradley’s truck, after putting back all the borrowed equipment. Once we were at the lodge, everyone headed straight for the bar, sinking into the couches in front of the fireplaces and plugging their phones into nearby wall chargers. I made a space for myself on one of the couches, seated between Diego and Chris, as they stared down at their phones.

Suddenly, Diego’s face shot up from his phone. “Wait.”

He then turned toward Leo, a mischievous grin taking over his expression. “Did you think we were going to forget?”

“Forget what?” Leo asked, standing behind the bar.

“That’s right!” Chris snapped his fingers. “You said you were going to make us drinks, mate!”

“Make us drinks! Make us drinks!” Diego began the chant. “Make us drinks!”

“Make us drinks! Make us drinks! Make us drinks!” The rest of the room joined in on the chant, as Leo’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

“Okay! Okay!” Leo laughed as he held up his hands. “You don’t need to make it a whole thing! I’ll make some drinks. You guys deserve it, anyway, after all your hard work today.”

“Thank you kindly, Leo,” Andrew added to the conversation, with a small smile. “And just so you know, I’ve always been partial to bourbon.”

“Are you avoiding me?”

The question tumbled out of my mouth after everyone had long since left the bar. It’d been about an hour since Leo had made drinks for everyone, and I was still feeling the slightest buzz in my veins from some of the whiskey I’d had in my cup.When I looked over at Leo, who was cleaning up a few glasses, still standing behind the bar, he had an expression on his face like a deer caught in headlights.

“No,” he started, his gaze averting mine. “Fine. Yes. Shit.”

“Wait. Really?” I squinted in confusion. “You’re actually avoiding me?”

“What do you want me to say, Jacob?”

“I want you to tell me why.”

---