Marshmallows and the Snow [Sweet Snacks: 1]

When one young, lost Brit and a reclusive Norwegian spend five days in a remote cabin, surrounded by lots of snow, passion ignites.

Ruben, a young man from London, enjoys his first vacation with his first boyfriend in Norway. But soon, the ski-adventure turns into a nightmare. First, Ruben finds Toby fucking one of the hotel’s employees in their bed. Then, in his haste to flee the horrible situation, he becomes lost in the cold woods. And when he finally finds shelter in a remote cabin, the owner welcomes him with a raised shotgun.

Aleksander is stunned when the tiny guy he thought was a burglar faints right in front of him. To make it up to him, he peels the cute slip of a man out of his soggy, icy clothes and tucks him into bed. The meteorologist and self-declared hermit plans to get rid of his guest as soon as he wakes up. Ruben is less than thrilled though.

The blond, Nordic God might have a habit of swinging shotguns, hatchets, or axes, but he’s kind, caring and hot as hell, too. Ruben is instantly smitten and falls hard for the older man. He tries everything to seduce him and even considers to uproot his whole life in London for Aleks’ love. But Aleks has been burned in the past. Can he accept the love and future Ruben offers him, or will Ruben return to London for good?

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Marshmallows and the Snow

Copyright © 2015 Liza Kay

ISBN: 978-1-4874-0407-9

Cover art by Latrisha Waters

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Marshmallows and the Snow

Sweet Snacks 1

By

Liza Kay

To Vera—without you, those guys never would’ve left my computer.

And to my parents. I’m forever grateful for your encouragement and love.

Day One

Ruben was freezing. Really freezing. The only things surrounding him were trees and acres of snow-covered, fascinating, and picturesque landscape. Problem was Ruben wanted to spit on everything romantic. It wasn’t so much the cold or the wetness seeping through his shoes and turning his socks into squishy, icy lumps that had ruined Ruben for the beauty of his surroundings.

No. Finding your boyfriend fucking one of the hotel’s employees in your hotel room, while you were supposed to ski down the hills, did that to you. Everybody would’ve been a little unappreciative of the amazing Norwegian nature after such a run in, right?

His first fucking vacation with his first fucking boyfriend and now Ruben faced the possibility of having to spend another week with a lying, cheating prick. However, what should he do? Go home? No way! He’d longed to visit Norway for years. He’d collected every spare penny finally to be able to visit this country. He wouldn’t leave.

That Ruben wasn’t fond of sharing the room with Toby any longer presented the first problem. Second, he wasn’t confident enough to tell Toby to move out of their room and fetch another. Toby was some critical inches taller and broader than he was.

That put him in a tight place. Maybe he could ask at the reception if the hotel offered a solution for emergency breakups. The expensive hotel’s website promised service around the clock. Furthermore, they would do everything in their power to make this vacation the best of their guests’ life. Well... they could start with giving him a new room and moving his clothes to said new room, because he sure as hell wouldn’t go back into his old one to pack his stuff. Better yet, they could offer
Toby
a new room and move
his
shit—preferably through the window. After all, Toby had been the one cheating.

But first, he had to find his way back to the hotel. Enough with the lonesome, heartbroken wanderer persona. This behavior wouldn’t lead him anywhere. At least not where he should be. It was getting late and soon it’d be pitch dark and much colder.

Ruben stopped, stood, and surveyed his surroundings. But no matter which way he turned, everything looked the same. Shit. A worried shiver worked its way down Ruben’s back when he realized that he—in his haste to bring as much distance between him and Toby—had walked without keeping track of his direction. With the result that Ruben had no idea where the hell he was.

Don’t panic, Ruben. You can easily follow your footsteps in the snow to find your way back to the ski resort. No need to panic.

A quick look at his cell phone confirmed he’d strayed for roughly two hours. Crap. To top it off, he had no service, but who would he call anyway? Toby? Mountain search? Pfft.

Turned out, there was indeed need to panic. After a few minutes of following his footsteps, Ruben noticed the still falling snow and the wind were making it impossible to find his traces in the fluffy, cold stuff.
Shit, shit, shit!
Okay, now he was really nervous. The cold was dangerous. If he couldn’t find warm shelter for the night, he’d freeze to death in his wet clothes. And there were probably all kinds of animals lurking behind those trees.

Ruben felt slightly paranoid when he racked his brain for any information regarding wolves in Norway. Were there any? Thank God, he hadn’t traveled to America with Toby. They had mountain lions, bears and shit in the States. Oh, wait! What about bears in Norway?

A branch snapped somewhere behind him and Ruben let out a high and embarrassingly girly shriek. But hell, who cared? Not the bear probably ogling him from behind a tree and waiting for the best moment to strike. Maybe it was a dumb move, but Ruben turned and dashed through the snow. Despite his love for winter sports, he wasn’t the fittest guy on earth. After roughly two minutes of running through calf-high snow, he was wheezing akin to a ninety-year-old woman.

And he’d managed to lose track of his path even more. In his blind panic to escape wild, hungry animals, he’d run through the woods in a zigzag line. Oh damn, he was so fucked. This was entirely Toby’s fault! The prick hadn’t turned out to be the knight in shining armor Ruben had hoped for, at all.

He continued trotting through the snow because, really, what else could he do? Curling into a sobbing ball wasn’t an option although it sounded tempting. Instead, he treated himself to a short break under a sprawling tree to catch his breath and assess the situation.

He was a mess. A shivering, wet, frozen mess and he had no idea where the hotel was located and how to find the way back. Plus, he didn’t know where to search for shelter.

Maybe there was a cozy hut or a cabin somewhere around here. This wasn’t an area reserved for ski tourists, but for hunters. Hunters had hunters’ cabins, right? At least, in the movies and the romance novels Ruben loved to read they always had cabins. Romantic ones, made of wood, and with a hot fire burning in the fireplace. Oh and a hot, burly lumberjack who lounged on a fur in front of the fireplace, dressed in nothing but a checkered flannel shirt.

Oh boy. The cold must’ve reached his brain if he was coming up with such ridiculous pictures while faced with his possible death amidst the wild beauty of Norway. He needed a plan. Promptly. First point on the list was moving on. Standing around wasn’t going to help him. His legs felt stiff and his feet like ice cubes from the short break.

Second, he had to find the hotel or one of those cabins. How, he had no idea. Ruben didn’t even know if there were any cabins. But he was sure giving up hope was not the right train of thought. He wouldn’t die. Damn, he was nineteen and he refused to die before he’d managed to find a guy who loved him. Really loved him, not only pretended to care for him so he could go on vacation with Ruben and get his hands on his ass.

And he refused to die before someone really got his hands on his ass. Although they’d dated for four months, Ruben hadn’t allowed Toby to ravish his butt. Maybe there lay part of the reason why the prick had decided to ravish other butts, in the meantime. Damn.

But Ruben hadn’t been sure enough if he could trust Toby. The first time was important and he wanted it to happen with someone who really cared for him. Maybe loved him. Someone who would make it a fantastic, overwhelming, and unforgettable experience. Obviously, Toby wasn’t that guy. Given the circumstances, he was glad he hadn’t thrown his virtue out of the window.

Well, he’d return home to London in five days. And after some time to breathe, he’d date and search for a new boyfriend. Ruben needed someone in his life. He was so lonely.

Growing up with foster parents, Ruben had always longed for a deep connection with another person. His parents had been nice but not affectionate. They’d taken care of him till he’d turned eighteen and since then he’d been on his own. Ruben managed his life just fine and had a job he loved. But still, something was missing. And that something was loving and being loved in return.

After another hour of walking and snow, and wet feet and snow, and endless trees and snow, Ruben was close to giving up. He was so ripe for a desperate breakdown, with sobbing, tears and snot and all that shit.

Just as Ruben was looking for a cozy place in the snow to curl into a ball, a big as fuck and scary owl flapped its huge wings and made those creepy owl-noises. Ruben fell backward and landed on his ass, his heart beat so fast he thought he’d suffer a heart attack. When he let his gaze travel up the tree, the owl peered at him with its bright, yellow eyes. It had this annoyed look going on. Like Ruben was invading its beauty sleep or something.

“Oh, shut up, birdy! I’m the one in deep shit. You’re sitting up there on your branch with your feathery ass still dry, probably digesting your latest snack, while it is poor little me whose feet and balls are freezing off down here. So quit with the bitching.”

The owl’s narrowed gaze sent an unpleasant feeling through Ruben’s body.
Uh-oh.
Its assessing stare probably meant it was trying to find the best spots to gnaw on as soon as the cold had finished him.

“Sorry, I honestly didn’t mean to piss you off. As a matter of fact, I admire owls. You’re... big and scary and beautiful. And kinda deadly, you know.” Ruben sighed and failed to huddle deeper into his jacket. “Ignore me, okay? Me talking to an annoyed owl means I’ve lost my marbles because of the cold and the fucking dead-end situation I’m currently in. Could you maybe promise to wait with eating me till I’m dead? I guess that beak of yours hurts like a bitch and I think I really deserve a calm death.” Ruben shivered hard. The owl seemed interested enough in the conversation, so he kept on talking.

“Somewhere I read freezing to death feels like falling asleep.” He huffed. “This statement proves that you can never trust so-called experts. Whoever wrote that has probably never been in a freezing-to-death situation. Because I’ll tell you, I don’t feel remotely sleepy and calm.”

The owl shu-huued. Ruben, sure that its reply was meant as an agreement, smiled. “Good owl. See? Now we understand each other.” It flapped its huge, elegant wings again, turning its head to the right. Huh. Maybe it’d sensed another snack under the snow? Ruben hoped not. After their nice conversation, he was fairly sure it wouldn’t attack him and pick out his eyes. He enjoyed its company and talking to it beat arguing with Toby. Big time. Ruben scowled up at it.

“Don’t even think of leaving me. It’s not nice to abandon a dying man,” he admonished. Fortunately, the owl remained on its branch however, kept staring straight into the same direction. It was a bit unnerving. Was something dangerous waiting for him between the trees? Something with sharp teeth and claws that would love to eat Ruben?

He shivered harder, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. “What is it? Do you see something? You could give me a hint, you know?”

Crap. Maybe this was the right time to learn the art of tree climbing. The branches were low enough. The sole question was if Ruben had enough strength left in his frozen hands to, indeed, climb. And he remembered reading that bears were able to climb. Climbing would merely help him in case it was a wolf lurking somewhere. Given the frozen, numb state of his body, he’d probably fall down and onto his scrawny ass. No, thanks.