Page 30 of Saving Mr. Bell

He batted my hand away, green eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Say what? I don’t know what you mean,” I lied.

“Good. Keep it that way.”

I didn’t say it. Instead, I pursed my lips and whistled the first few bars of Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. I would have carried on, but apparently being pelted in the face with a snowball makes whistling difficult. Who knew? I spat snow out, Rudolf’s aim a little too good.

The annoying little shit was smiling as he backed off with his gloved hands raised in a defensive gesture. “Oh, come on, you deserved that. You know you did.”

“For whistling?” I bent and scooped up a generous handful of snow.

“For whistling that song. Have you any idea what it was like for me at school? One of my schoolmates even wrote a version where he changed all the words to being about me.”

“Creative,” I said, as I shaped the snow into a ball. “I’d like to meet him. What were the lyrics? Perhaps we could do a duet.”

“Don’t throw that,” Rudolf warned as I lifted my arm.

“Or what?”

“Or…”

I didn’t wait to see what threat he’d come up with before unleashing the snowball. He ducked, but not fast enough, the snowball hitting him square in the forehead. Anticipating that retaliation would be imminent, I rugby-tackled him to the ground, both of us letting out an “oof” as we landed. My intention had been to rub snow in his face like we were twelve.

I kissed him instead.

And not like we were twelve.

Like we were two men giving in to our mutual attraction and making the most of being alone in an isolated wilderness with no else around for miles.

When I drew back, Rudolf blinked up at me, the kiss seeming to have taken him as much by surprise as it had me. I kissed him again, taking my time with this one, luxuriating in it. Luxuriating in him and how much I wanted him, even though I’d done my best to deny it. Well, I guess the cat was well and truly out of the bag now. At least we couldn’t go any further than kissing out here. Because of the snow. And how cold it was. And how many layers of clothing we wore.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” I admitted once I stopped kissing him.

“I’m not complaining. It was definitely better than getting pelted by snow.”

“Thanks. I’ll put that on my CV. Arlo Thomas—a kiss from him is better than getting pelted by snow.”

“You have a sex CV? Color me impressed. You’re a dark horse, aren’t you?”

I kissed him again, this one more to shut him up. Rudolf didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t minded any of the kisses, joining in enthusiastically. And he was one hell of a good kisser. He drew back first this time, the look he gave me speculative. “If we were back in the cabin, I’d be trying to get you out of your clothes around about now.”

“And I’d probably let you.”

Rudolf smiled. “Bingo! We have progress.”

I turned my wrist and peeled the edge of my glove down so I could see my watch. “Jesus! Do you know what time it is?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Half-past two. We’ve missed lunch again.”

“I wondered why I was hungry. We should probably head back before it gets dark.”

I climbed to my feet and hauled Rudolf to his, laughing when he leaned in and stole another kiss, the vertical one just as enjoyable as the horizontal ones had been.

Back at the cabin with the sledge once more returned to the shed, there were other things to worry about before we got round to food, like peeling off all the layers of clothes, most of the external ones wet from the time we’d spent in the snow. Rudolf’s back had taken the brunt while we’d been kissing, my weight pressing him down making it worse. It was for that reason that I offered to let him take the first shower. He paused in the bathroom doorway in just his T-shirt and underwear, and I did my best not to stare at his thighs. His lean, muscular thighs that were tanned for the time of year. “Want to share a shower?”

I did. But if we shared a shower, we’d start kissing again. And if we were naked while we were kissing, as one was in theshower, one thing would lead to another. And despite resigning myself to the fact that sex with Rudolf was going to happen, I wanted to savor the anticipation for longer. I wanted to imagine what it was going to be like to touch him in places I still hadn’t seen yet—his hipbone, his inner thigh, the crease of his groin. His armpit, as weird and as kinky as that might sound. Had I ever thought about someone’s armpit before? I’d married Bruno and never given a moment’s thought to his armpit either before the impulse wedding or after.

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