Page 197 of Men in Shorts

Duncan waved a thank-you. As he was turning away to prepare his second throw, Heather and John exchanged what looked like a knowing smile.

Were they laughing at him? He checked his hat to make sure the goofy little white felt house pinned to it was right side up, then checked his trousers for a rip or an unzipped fly.

Anyway. Time to focus.

He pushed one of the red stones in front of the hack, a black rubber contraption that resembled a starting block stuck into the ice. Then, for luck, he touched his chest just below the hollow of his throat. The sun-shaped silhouette of the long-distance-relationship pendant he shared with Brodie was palpable through his shirt, as it had been every day of their separation.

If Duncan could survive his boyfriend’s six-month absence without combusting, he could survive a few hours’ humiliation on the curling ice.

He settled his right foot into the hack, crouched down, and placed the shoe-shaped Teflon slider beneath his left foot. He took hold of his plastic stabilizer and the granite stone, clutching both for grim death.

Finally he pushed off into a slide, his right leg trailing behind.

Crap, he wasn’t pointed at Mum’s broom. He twisted himself in the correct direction, gave the stone a push…then tumbled over, his slider skidding out from under his foot. His elbow banged the ice, which was even less forgiving than artificial turf.

“Merry Fucking Christmas,” he mumbled as he righted himself. Usually he was a massive fan of the holiday, despite end-of-semester exams and his job in retail. But this year? Not so much.

“All right, Duncan?” Luca called out.

“I’m fine.” He stood and turned toward his coach. “Just need to find my—och!” He bumped into another body, then spun away, raising his arms for balance.

A tall, bearded man grabbed his shoulder. “I got you.” He held out Duncan’s slider. “Searching for this?”

He took the slider. “Cheers, I?—”

Wait. That voice.

Duncan looked up at the man who had steadied him. He still had the same dark-chocolate eyes and hair, the same fair skin that instantly reddened in cold weather and hot…well, hot situations. Now he also sported a beard and a halo.

Duncan’s heart leapt into his throat, blocking all words but one. “Brodie…”

What to say to the person you’ve been missing for 198 days, the person occupying your last thoughts before sleep and the first thoughts upon waking? But also, incidentally, the person who’d just watched you fall on your arse.

“What are you doing here?” he blurted.

Brodie jerked back his head, blinking hard. “I’m on the New Shores team.”

Of course. The halo. The man on the other end of John’s phone call. “You were late.”

“Oookay.” Brodie backed up. “Lovely to see you, too.”

“Wait!” Duncan took a lunging step, teetering off-balance. “Whoa.” He put his arms out to keep from falling again, and this time Brodie didn’t try to catch him. “I thought you weren’t coming home for another two weeks. You said New Year’s.”

“Things changed.” Brodie glanced over at John and Heather, who were watching the two of them with what appeared to be horror. “I was going to surprise you tomorrow,” he told Duncan. “And then this happened.” He spread his arms to encompass the cacophonous rink around them. “Last-minute substitution.”

“I’m definitely surprised, so well done, you.” Why was he just standing here instead of pulling Brodie into his arms and kissing him like it was the end of the world? His feet felt frozen to the ice they stood upon.

“Oi, Duncan!” Luca was beckoning him to the end of the sheet.

Oops. The next We Four Kings curler was already crouched in the hack, waiting for Duncan to get out of the way.

“We’ll talk after the game?” he asked Brodie.

“Yeah.” Brodie fidgeted with his halo’s headband. “Good curling.”

Duncan’s chest seemed to fold in on itself. Such a painfully polite phrase to hear from one’s boyfriend. “Good curling,” he murmured. Then he turned away from Brodie and hurried back to Luca. “Sorry.”

“No bother.” Luca handed him a broom. “Your dad’s throwing next, so you and Ellie will sweep for him.”

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