Page 210 of Men in Shorts

Brodie ran his finger along the curved edge of the island. “Are we done talking, then?” He raised his gaze to meet Duncan’s. “Cos I can’t stop thinking about how it felt to kiss you after all this time.”

“Yeah.” Duncan’s breath shuddered in his throat. “It was really good. But I don’t think we should wait another six months just so it’ll be that good again.”

Brodie shook his head.

They leapt to their feet at the same moment, so quickly they knocked over their stools.

This kiss far outdid the one in the workout room. At the feel of Brodie’s lips and tongue, Duncan’s blood surged hot, banishing every last bit of winter chill.

They peeled off each other’s coats, with such hurry that arms got stuck in sleeves, making them laugh. Then they fell into a longer, harder kiss. Brodie pressed him back against the edge of the island, his palpable erection urgent against Duncan’s hip.

Brodie’s mouth shifted to the edge of his jaw, caressing just below his ear. “Where can we go?”

“Erm…” Not back to either of their flats, for the same reason they hadn’t wanted to argue in them. Maybe a hotel room? No vacancies likely a week before Christmas. The only place they could be alone tonight was…

…right here.

He took Brodie’s hand. “This way.”

Brodie followed him across the shop. “Oh no, you’re kidding me on.”

“I’m serious.” He looked in the direction of the shop’s front entrance to make sure the window wasn’t visible from here. As suspected, no one could see them from the street.

They stopped together on the threshold of Harris’s Fine Interior’s crowning glory: the bedroom section.

“Wow.” Brodie goggled at the four-poster queen-size in front of them, its canopy garlanded with faerie lights and ivy. The alabaster duvet held gold flecks that reflected the lights above. “Fair romantic.”

“Isn’t it just?” Duncan led him toward the bed, but Brodie pulled back.

“What about the sheets?”

“Have you forgotten? We sell those, too. I’ll put a fresh set on after.”

Brodie’s eyes crinkled with what looked like anticipation, but he threw another glance behind him. “No one will come in?”

“Mum and Dad will go straight home from the rink. Nobody comes into the shop until at least five a.m.” Duncan unzipped his hoodie. “We could have a lot of fun in the meantime.”

“All right, then.” In one move, Brodie pulled his jumper and long-sleeved T-shirt over his head. “Race you naked under the covers.”

Ah, their favorite game—one of them, anyway. Duncan tried to toe off his shoes, but they were laced too tightly. He cursed and bent over to untie them.

“You’re losing big-time.” Brodie was already down to his boxer briefs and socks.

Duncan yanked off his shoes and hurled them aside.

“I win.” Brodie slipped under the duvet. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

Brodie’s eyes were wide, staring up through the canopy. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Ohhh, michty me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. At. All. Getting into bed after a long day of curling…” Brodie’s eyes rolled up and his lashes fluttered. “I could almost come from this alone.”

“Hang on.”

“Be sure and take your socks off. Feet’s the best part.” He gave a delirious laugh, like he’d just downed another dram.

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