Page 45 of Cosy & Chill
Heat flooded his cheeks and he frowned at his wayward mind. That wasn’t what he’d been thinking about. Or maybe it was, seeing how comfortably they’d fit together on the sofa the previous night. Until Roisin’s screech had added yet another layer of insanity to their already crazy life.
He stirred two spoons of sugar into Leo’s coffee, took the cup to the stove and set it beside him. “What else can I do?”
“Toast.”
Finn left him to enjoy his first mug of coffee while overseeing the eggs and bacon. They were still getting to know each other, but he’d learned that Leo—who was happy to chat at any time—preferred to be undisturbed while cooking breakfast. Or, at least until he’d had his first cup of coffee.
Toast made, Finn set the table and found butter and marmalade in the fridge, still delighted that they had such similar tastes. His father had never stopped complaining about Finn’s love of marmalade over jam. He’d even once taken the jar from the fridge and thrown it across the kitchen in a fit of irrational rage, telling Finn never to buy marmalade again. He’d ignored that order, but he’d made sure to keep the jar in his room.
Now, he didn’t have to.
“Gods, I’m tired,” he muttered. “Going all emo at the sight of a jar of marmalade. Pathetic.”
“You’re what?”
He caught Leo’s concerned look but didn’t explain himself. It was too silly to dwell on stuff that was gone and buried. He dug up a lopsided smile and found Leo returning it.
“How long did you work?”
“Gone four. I was too keyed up to sleep after that—” He waved a hand to indicate Roisin, her crazy tale, and the deal they’d struck. “Do you think we’ll ever see her again?”
“Not a chance. She spun us a tale, so we wouldn’t call the police. Then she very cleverly got us to show her the whole house. Fortunately, we’ve just moved in and don’t have anything worth stealing.”
“Unless she runs a knitting store somewhere.”
“I didn’t think of that. Is there much competition?”
“I’ve never bothered myself with the competition.” Finn dropped into his chair. “I don’t want aggro and strife in my life. I just want to do what I like and earn a living doing it. There are plenty of customers to go around.”
“Seconded. That’s very much what I keep telling myself.” Leo set a plate in front of him. “If you always work until crazy hours, maybe we should have breakfast at crazy hours. Or brunch instead of breakfast, so you get some sleep.”
“Nah. If you get up at eight and I get up at one, we’ll barely ever see each other. Besides, I need the mornings for washing and blocking and setting up the store.” He shovelled eggs and bacon into his mouth and washed them down with coffee. “This time of year is particularly crazy for me,” he admitted. “It gets easier once the present-buying rush is done. I can always take an evening off or go to bed sooner so I can be up.”
They ate their breakfast in silence until Leo bounced out of his chair and took his plate to the sink. “I’d better get going.”
“What?”
“I’m getting bolts for the back door and the alleyway door. If that crazy woman can waltz in here as easy as, then other people can, too. I don’t like the idea of that. I also want to have a chat with a barista friend of mine without getting into the middle of the lunch crush.”
Finn chewed on his last piece of bacon. “You want me to come with?”
“No, don’t worry. We need to divide our efforts to get the most done. Do we need any food? I can swing by the supermarket on the way home.”
Finn shrugged, overwhelmed by the wave of energy emanating from Leo. “Sorry, my brain’s not online yet.”
“Why don’t you crash for a couple more hours? We make plans when I come back.”
Finn would have liked to do that, especially when he realised how quiet the house was once Leo was gone. A silence that wasn’t heavy and oppressive, where he didn’t have to listen out for a tread on the stairs or a hand on his door handle was a novelty he couldn’t get enough of.
He went upstairs and opened the windows in their bedrooms, shivering in the sudden chill from outside. Leo would be out in this all day come Tuesday. His new jumper wouldn’t be done for a little while yet, but Finn thought Leo might appreciate a warm hat and a scarf. His mind immediately conjured an image of white letters on bright blue, and he raced upstairs to his workroom, pulled out a sheet of paper and started sketching the word CHILL.
He didn’t think he could do justice to Leo’s icicle-dripping logo, but block letters were easy, and maybe he could replicate the icicle effect with a touch of glitter yarn.
He found his supplies and settled on the sofa, casting on stitches almost without looking at his work. Between the silence around him and the soft clinking of the needles in his lap, he didn’t even wish for music.
