Read A Trip to Remember Online

Authors: Meg Harding

A Trip to Remember (2 page)

“Did you get hit by a truck?” asked the man as he set about unwinding the blankets enough for Colin to stand.

“No one else on the roads,” said Colin, weakly attempting to help him.

The blankets came unraveled, and Colin was helped up. He leaned heavily on the man, groaning in pain as tingles raced up his legs. His feet still felt numb. The guy’s body was a line of warmth along Colin’s side. He found himself pushing closer, trying to soak it in. The guy laughed at him but didn’t shove him away. He wrapped an arm around Colin’s waist and squeezed, his big hand splayed out over Colin’s hip.

“What’s your name?” asked Colin after he finally reached the couch, and the guy had started grabbing blankets to cover him up again. “S’weird not knowing it, considering.”

The comforter was dumped in his lap. “Logan, and yours? I’ve been calling you Popsicle in my head. I’m thinking that’s not right.” He tucked the blankets around Colin’s feet.

Colin scrunched his face up at the nickname. “Colin,” he said.

The dog came back and clambered up onto the couch. Colin’s breath rushed from him as one paw pressed into his stomach. “Ugh,” he groaned.

“Sorry,” said Logan, and then to the dog, “Shea, don’t be rude.”

Shea barked at him and then curled up on Colin’s feet. It was a bit like sticking his feet in a furnace.

With the blankets once more covering Colin from neck to toe, Logan stepped back and stared. He was looking intently at Colin’s face. Colin reached up, touching his jaw. He could feel the dried blood that was caked onto his skin. He pulled the blankets away and glanced down at his shirt, except it wasn’t his shirt. He realized he was wearing pajamas, and they certainly weren’t his.

“Did you dress me?” he asked incredulously.

“I could have left you in your wet clothes. I think that would have helped with the hypothermia.” Logan looked at him, quirking a brow and flashing him just the hint of a smirk. “Not to mention the blood. I didn’t think that was a look you were going for.”

“But you left it on my face.” His fingers trailed down. “And my neck.”

“I didn’t think it would be a good idea to scrub at your face. I made sure it wasn’t serious, but I didn’t want to accidently cause more damage. Besides, I’m not your nurse. I’ll get you a cloth, and you can try to clean yourself up.”

“How bad does it look?” Was his nose now noticeably crooked? He carefully felt around it. It didn’t hurt as bad as before, but it was still sore, twinging a little under his touch.

“Well,” said Logan, crossing his arms, “it doesn’t look good. Scared the hell out of me when I opened the door, I’m not going to lie. But you’re fine.”

Colin prodded at it. “Is it broken?”

Logan leaned over him, squinting. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t look it, at least.”

Colin closed his eyes in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“Your priorities are a little skewed,” laughed Logan. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room, presumably to get Colin the cloth.

Left alone, and more aware of the situation than he had been since he’d woken up, Colin took the opportunity to look at the room more thoroughly. In the corner stood a large Christmas tree, the lights and ornaments all red and white, and a couple presents scattered beneath. From the mantle above the fireplace hung several stockings, and little glass reindeer were placed on the mantle itself. Christmas knickknacks were spread throughout the room, placed on shelves and tables. A spinning snowflake dangled from the ceiling fan.

“Your family was supposed to come here, weren’t they?” he asked when Logan came back into the room.

“Yeah.” He handed the wet cloth to Colin with a small smile. “They’re smart, though. They didn’t try to travel through a blizzard.” He winked, his smile turning into a pleased smirk.

Colin rolled his eyes and scrubbed the cloth along his neck, hoping he was getting everything. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Considering I’ve only been harping on it for about ten minutes, I think you’ve got a ways to go.” Logan sat down next to him, his hip pressing into Colin’s stomach. “Give me that. You look so pathetic.” It sounded like he was trying not to laugh. He tugged the cloth from Colin’s grip, leaning over him to start dragging it over his skin.

Colin froze for a second, his neck tilted back vulnerably. He swallowed heavily. Logan was very much in his space, his face hovering right over Colin’s. He could see the striations in his irises, the way his pupils had expanded. If he respired out his mouth, he’d be breathing right into his face. He felt like he was holding his breath.

Get a grip.
He tried to subtly exhale out his nose. “I thought you weren’t going to play nurse,” he said.

“I had no idea you’d make it look so difficult,” said Logan, brushing his thumb over the skin he’d just scrubbed, soothing irritated flesh. “It seemed wrong to let you keep trying.”

He grabbed his chin, tilting his head farther back. Colin might have wheezed in surprise. Logan’s brows shot up. “Okay there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Logan’s fingers were hot against his face, gripping firmly onto his jaw.

“It’s really stuck on here,” said Logan, scraping at the dried blood with his fingernail for a second. “You might have to take a bath to get it all off.”

Colin hissed as he scraped over a mole, trying to jerk his head away.

“Sorry, sorry,” rushed out Logan. “I’ll be more careful.” He let go of Colin’s face, but he scooted even closer, hunching over him more. “Face now,” he said. “It’s a mess. You look like a vampire in a bad horror film.”

His eyes closed in mortification. “Gee, thanks,” he muttered.

“You’re welcome,” he laughed. His fingers brushed along Colin’s cheekbone as he tilted his head to the side. The cloth started to scrape over his face. “You know, you’re lucky you only got a nose bleed from your stupidity.” He looked him in the eyes, gaze serious. “Really lucky.”

Colin narrowed his eyes at that. “This is going to be an unpleasant weekend if you keep making comments like that.”

“But it’s so much fun watching you get all worked up,” teased Logan.

Colin’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve just been through an ordeal, and you’re trying to work me up? Who does that? You don’t even know me!”

Logan pushed his mouth shut, swiping the cloth over his chin. “Apparently, I do. If I’m going to be stuck with you for Christmas, I’m not going to treat you like a stranger.” He started trying to clean around Colin’s nose, gently dragging the cloth over the area. “It’d be laughable at this point anyway.”

He leaned away after several minutes. “That’s the best I can do. Do you think you can handle a bath? I can make breakfast while you clean up. Do you need help getting up?”

“Course I can, and I’m fine,” said Colin, already attempting to push himself up to a sitting position. A bath sounded like heaven. His back creaked as he moved, and he groaned.

Logan laughed, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers. “Are you sure?”

“S’not funny,” said Colin, but he reached for the offered hand and allowed Logan to pull him up. His body was stiffening up after his ordeal.

Once Colin was standing, he forced himself to move away. “I’ve got this,” he said, and headed for the hallway on the other side of the room.

“Do you know where the bathroom even is?” asked Logan.

“No, but I figured you’d tell me.” Really he’d just wanted to escape the room and Logan’s overwhelming presence. He needed to get himself to a less pathetic-looking state.

“Up the stairs, and second door on the right.”

For all of a second, Colin was tempted to ask Logan to carry him up the stairs. He so badly did not want to climb them.

Chapter Two

 

C
OLIN
WAS
relaxed and a half second away from falling asleep in the tub. He hadn’t had a bath in years, and he was thinking that he’d definitely been missing out. Logan’s bathtub was more like a hot tub: huge and round, with jets and ridiculously hot water and all kinds of little shelves to sit or place things on. He had a pillow propped behind his head for God’s sake!

So when Logan knocked on the door, he barely heard it. He certainly didn’t acknowledge it. He didn’t have the energy to do so.

Logan didn’t wait, though; he walked in anyway, and that did get Colin’s attention. Instinctively Colin moved to cover himself, feeling the flush that was spreading over his chest and up onto his face. “Excuse me!” he said, very aware of his nakedness and Logan’s gaze on him.

“I see you found the bubble bath,” said Logan. He set the breakfast tray he was holding down on the counter. “You do know I can’t see through it, right? You can stop trying to protect your virtue.” He grinned at him as he grabbed the tall glass on the tray and held it out to Colin.

Extending one bubble-covered hand, Colin accepted the glass and took a sip. “No more hot chocolate?” he asked, making puppy dog eyes up at Logan. The taste of orange juice was strong in his mouth.

“You are so unbelievably spoiled,” snorted Logan, smiling wide and rolling his eyes. “Would you like me to hand feed you as well?”

“Is that an option?” asked Colin, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

“I’m going to dump this plate over your head,” said Logan, laughing, holding out said plate for Colin to take.

Colin looked around for a towel to wipe his hand on. He didn’t want the bubbles on his food. Sighing, Logan set the plate back down and passed him a hand towel. Colin wiped his hands and traded it for the plate. He pulled his knees up out of the water—they looked like twin white peaks rising above the mountain of bubbles—and balanced the plate carefully on them.

The first bite of the pancake had him moaning. “Oh my God,” he mumbled around his mouthful. He swallowed, savoring the taste. “This is amazing.” He’d never had a pancake that tasted so good. Hell, he wasn’t even a big fan of pancakes. He shoveled another bite in. He didn’t even care that Logan was watching him eat.

“Wait till you try the eggs,” said Logan.

He didn’t even question him. He scooped up a forkful of the fluffy eggs and shoved them in alongside the pancake. “Son of a bitch,” he groaned, forcing himself to slow his chewing so he could properly enjoy the taste. “Are you a cook?” he asked once he’d swallowed his large mouthful. He did still possess some manners.

“Nah,” said Logan. “It’s just a hobby.”

“You’re missing out on your calling.” He cut off a piece of the pancake, dragged it through the syrup, and stabbed some eggs onto his fork with it for good measure. He put it all in his mouth.

Logan looked a mix of horrified and amazed. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he said. Colin could hear the repressed laughter in his tone. “Though maybe you’re enjoying it a bit too much.”

Colin shook his head. “If anything, I’m not enjoying it enough.” He glanced at him. Logan was standing next to the tub, staring down at him. Colin abruptly realized he was still naked and in the bath. He cleared his throat and forced his hand to still before he tried to shove more food in his face. “Are you going to keep standing there?”

He blinked at that, as if awakening from a daze. He took a step back. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll just be….” Logan pointed to the door and swiftly made his exit. It clicked shut sharply behind him.

If he hadn’t been so busy finishing his excellent meal, he would have been mortified.

 

 

W
HEN
HIS
skin resembled a prune more than anything else, Colin decided it was time to remove himself from the comfort of the bath. Standing was akin to torture, cold air assaulting his heated skin. He shivered, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist and another around his torso. He didn’t care if he looked ridiculous.

The only clothes in the bathroom were the ones he’d removed prior to his bath. He pulled the pants on once he’d dried off, but the shirt had residual blood from his nosebleed on it. He tossed it in the hamper.

“What did you do with my suitcase?” he asked, walking downstairs, skin pebbling from the chill in the air.

Logan looked up at him from where he was lounging on the couch, his dog curled up against his side. The dog growled as Logan stood. “What did you do with the other shirt?”

“Hamper,” said Colin. “There was some blood on it.”

Logan nodded. “Okay. I put your suitcase in the guest room.” He motioned for Colin to go back up the stairs. “Once you’re dressed I’ll give you the tour of the place.” He followed him up the stairs. “You’re looking a little stiff,” he said when they reached the landing. “Does your back hurt?”

“Leg hurts,” said Colin. He’d tried massaging it in the bath, but the muscle was tense and unwilling to completely relax. He hadn’t thought it was noticeable.

“Walking should help. I’ve got icepacks in the freezer too. If it’s still bothering you, we can put one of those on it.”

Colin turned to look at him. “Thank you,” he said.

Logan looked surprised. “What are you thanking me for?”

He gestured around widely with his hand. “For everything. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” The man had made him a gourmet breakfast. That was going above and beyond.

“Earlier you were berating me for not cleaning up the blood, and now you’re thanking me ’cause I’m offering you an icepack?” He looked amused now, his lips quirking at the corners. He patted Colin on the back, moving past him and farther along the hall. “It’s all good. Don’t spend this whole weekend thanking me.”

“About that,” said Colin, following him. “How is this going to work?”

Logan stopped in front of an open door, motioning inside. The room was nice, with tan walls and dark blue accents. The bed was a ridiculous four-poster monstrosity that Colin hadn’t thought people had anymore. His suitcase was lying on a bench at the end of the bed.

Logan leaned against the doorjamb and watched Colin as he opened his suitcase. Colin thought about asking for privacy, but that would be a little obnoxious when all he was doing was putting on a shirt.

“What do you mean how is this going to work?” he asked, waiting till Colin had his shirt halfway over his head.

Other books

Listen by Karin Tidbeck
Nobody's There by Joan Lowery Nixon
The End of the Game by Sheri S. Tepper
The Resurrectionist by White, Wrath James
The Company You Keep by Neil Gordon
Of mice and men by John Steinbeck
The Orchids by Thomas H. Cook
Zane Grey by The Heritage of the Desert