Marshmallows and the Snow [Sweet Snacks: 1] (2 page)

Suddenly, the owl spread its wings again and took off, sailing a short distance before coming to rest on the next branch. Ruben cursed, following it with his gaze.

Without rational reason, Ruben’s body followed it, too. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was the cold fogging his brain. But they continued this little game five more times. When Ruben considered giving up and calling himself officially crazy, he saw it.

A cabin. Ruben sobbed, part of relief, part of exhaustion. He didn’t see any light in the windows but Ruben didn’t care. In fact, it’d be better if the cabin were unoccupied. He didn’t want to deal with anybody in his current state—namely rumpled, frozen, and heartbroken. Collecting the last of his strength, which wasn’t that much, he gave his feathery companion a thankful nod and scrambled toward the cabin.

He desperately needed to change out of those wet clothes and find something warm to wrap around himself before he caught pneumonia. With its chimney and the wood, chopped and neatly stacked along one outer wall, the cabin looked promising.

Ruben grabbed the handrail with numb fingers, dragging himself up the four necessary steps, and probed the handle. When Ruben pushed at the unexpectedly well maintained and unlocked door, it gave way immediately. He literally fell through the door and onto the hardwood floor with a loud thud.
Ouch!

Tears sprang to Ruben’s eyes when his numb and hurting body made contact with the floor. A soft carpet probably would’ve been too much to ask for he supposed. Or a sexy, muscular lumberjack catching him in his strong arms. Ruben groaned at his stupidity, rolled onto his back and merely laid there for a minute. He was so damn tired and cold. Debating with himself if it was okay if he enjoyed a short nap, he looked at the ceiling and listened to the quiet of the cabin.

Only, for an abandoned, empty cabin, it wasn’t quiet. Ruben caught a faint noise, like a floorboard squeaking under a boot and the rustling of clothes. Shit! Wasn’t the cabin as unoccupied as Ruben had thought? And if somebody was at the cabin, why was he lurking in the dark and what would this stranger do to Ruben? Had he made himself guilty by entering the cabin? This was an emergency, after all. So far, every Norwegian he’d encountered had been very nice. Hopefully, the owner of the cabin would allow Ruben to stay for a while and warm up again.
If
it was the owner of the cabin making those sounds and not a crazy axe murderer.

Ruben heaved to his stomach, and everything but graceful, pushed to his feet. Then he crept farther into the cabin. His breathing was ragged and he shivered from the melting snow dripping from his hair down his neck and back.

Had he been blond, Ruben would’ve felt like the dumb girl in one of those silly horror movies. All that was missing was an even dumber,
Hello? Is anybody here?,
before the crazy murderer came around the corner, axe raised and a cruel smile on his scarred face.

Turned out there was no axe murderer with a scarred face. Instead, Ruben encountered a very tall, very blond, and very glowering Norwegian in a knitted pullover who pointed his shotgun right at Ruben’s chest. And that was the moment when Ruben, quite spectacularly, fainted.

* * * *

Aleksander lowered his shotgun and stared at the kid lying in a heap in the middle of his living room. Holy shit! All he’d wanted was to scare away whatever was trying to break into his home when he’d heard noises. Be it an animal or a burglar. But this kid didn’t look like a burglar. In no sense. And Aleks had scared him so much the poor guy had fainted like a damsel in distress. What a way to make him feel like an ass.

He switched on the lights, placed the gun in a corner and lowered onto his knees. The boy was wet and seemed nearly frozen. Water droplets glistened between his ebony dark curls. His face was pasty white and... cute. Kind of heart-shaped, with smooth cheeks, a little button nose, and with delicate brows.

Stretching out his hand, he brushed some dripping hair off the boy’s face and wondered what eye color he had. Maybe he shouldn’t call him a boy although he was young, between eighteen and twenty, twenty-two at the most. Not much taller than five-feet-six, his figure was indistinguishable under his thick winter clothes. But he certainly couldn’t be considered a kid.

He was probably one of the tourists, using the wonderful landscape for skiing and stuff like that, and lost his way in the woods. Thank God he’d found the cabin or he probably would’ve died in the woods. Or one of the bears would’ve eaten the little slip as a snack.

Aleks had to help the guy. If he remained in those cold as ice clothes, he’d fetch a cold. Peeling the ski gear off the guy wasn’t an easy task with the whole stuff being a soggy mess. He felt bad for undressing him right here on the living room floor, but the wooden floor was easier to clean up afterward. As soon as the man was out of the clothes, Aleks would wrap him up and bring him someplace warmer.

With every layer he threw to the side, he revealed more of the lean figure. One fact left him a bit dumbfounded. He discovered the expected warm, long underwear. But underneath those long pants, the young man wore rose and white striped boxers. The material so thin they left nothing to the imagination. Holy shit! Add the creamy pale and hairless legs and Aleks had to force himself not to drool all over his unexpected guest.

When the man wore nothing but the fascinating boxers, Aleks lifted him into his arms and carried him into his bedroom. He struggled not to relish the feeling of the man cradled in his arms.

The bedroom was the warmest room in the house, with a fire burning in the fireplace. He gently lowered the man onto the bed, then rummaged inside his drawers till he found one of his checkered flannel shirts. It’d be way too big but warm, something his guest needed with his skin still clammy and too pale.

Aleks sat down beside him and proceeded to rub and massage the cutie’s limbs. The fire and his touch together did the trick in the end and some of the color returned to his skin. With quick movements, and without ogling too much, he dressed the man in the shirt and then tucked him under the thick blankets.

The man remained unconscious during the whole procedure. He solely rolled to his side, grabbed a pillow, and cuddled it against his stomach with a soft whimper.

How cute was that? His guest obviously was a clingy cuddler in bed. Aleks decided right that moment to sleep on the sofa in the living room. No need to tempt fate.

The man was frozen and probably scared to death thanks to Aleks’ crazy-shotgun-murderer performance. Waking up with said shotgun-murderer wrapped around him like a second skin wouldn’t help matters. Not one tiny bit.

Aleks hoped the guy wasn’t from the US or he’d probably sue his ass for mental cruelty. He’d encountered enough Americans who resided at the local ski resort to know they were fast with the lawyers.

Aleks sighed, straightened the blanket, and stood up. With a last look, he turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar in case his guest woke and needed help.

He wasn’t in the least prepared to have a guest. Mentally, that was. He was a self-declared hermit and a loner. Always had been. It was an acceptable behavior for a meteorologist working for the Norwegian Meteorological Service, working at one of the stations far away from the bigger cities. Nobody expected him to act friendly or sociable. That fitted him perfectly. Aleks worked, he wrote his books, he read, hunted and pretty much took care of himself year round. It was a perfect life, as far as he was concerned.

When he had the desire for company, which hadn’t happened in a long time, he drove to the next city and went to one of the bars. There were always some guys looking for quick fun without strings.

Aleks wasn’t a fan of this method. He’d much more prefer a stable relationship. However, chances were low Aleks would find a man willing to share his lonely life in the woods, without bars or parties. Or a social life. People had jobs. In addition, most peoples’ jobs weren’t compatible with sitting around in a wooden cabin. Most likely, sharing a house seven days a week with grumpy, quiet and moody Aleks, would turn most men into crazy axe-murderers. He wasn’t easy to get along with and he knew it.

His thoughts strayed to his guest. His cute guest. And he quickly cursed himself. Those thoughts would lead him nowhere. The guy was probably too young for thirty-three-year old Aleks and on top of that, on vacation. He was familiar with most of the people living around there and he wasn’t one of them. Meant, cute or not, he’d go back to the hotel as soon as he woke up and after a while return home. Wherever that was.

Musing about the man would merely get Aleks hurt in the end. He was one of those men who got their hopes up fast only to get disappointed later on. It wouldn’t be the first time.

After cleaning the mess on the floor and throwing the guy’s wet clothes in the washer, he grabbed some blankets and a cushion from the closet in the hallway. Aleks made his way to the living room and dumped the whole load onto the sofa. With quick, practiced movements, he lit
      
a fire in the fireplace to chase away the chilly air. As soon as it burned to his satisfaction, Aleks snuggled under the blankets. It was a while before he was able to sleep though. His thoughts couldn’t seem to stop circling around the guy sleeping in his bed. He’d learn how the guy had ended at his cabin tomorrow and bring him back to the resort, if he, in fact, was one of the vacationers. And that would be the end of it.

Day Two

Usually, Ruben woke slowly in the morning. Fading in and out of sleep for quite some time before he finally woke up. Not today. One moment he was still fast asleep and the next he gasped and sat upright in bed. He’d had a horrible dream! His hands were still shaking and his curls sticking against his clammy forehead.

He’d dreamed Toby had been cheating on him. Later on, he’d been wandering through the woods, nearly freezing to death, before some guy with a big and scary gun had tried to shoot him, merely because Ruben had entered his cabin and—

Ruben gasped again, pressing his hand against his chest. His checkered-flannel-shirt-covered chest. What the fucking hell? He looked around and became aware he was in a strange bedroom, not the hotel room he shared with Toby. Aside from the unknown lumberjack shirt and his favorite boxers, he was naked. Somebody had undressed him!

Slowly, reality seeped in and Ruben remembered Toby had indeed cheated on him. And the whole rest of his crazy dream... hadn’t been a dream.

Oh shit! He was at the cabin. That meant the crazy man with the gun was probably somewhere around. Shit, shit, shit! Ruben had a problem! How could he manage to sneak out of the house without alarming the other man, clad in his boxers and a way too big shirt? He’d freeze to death. Again. Ruben sighed. He’d never go on a winter vacation again.

He crawled out of bed, moaning when every muscle in his body protested. Damn, that was the revenge for not being as fit as he thought he’d be. Obviously, sitting at his desk most of the time wasn’t the proper preparation for a skiing vacation. Who would’ve thought?

Ruben left the room on tiptoes and sneaked down the hallway, following an odd sound coming from somewhere in the back of the house. Eventually, he found the kitchen, a big and sunny room with lots of wood, and the source of the noise. The crazy shotgun guy was standing at the kitchen counter, a hatchet in his right hand. A big and hopefully dead fish was lying on the wooden board.

Ruben’s high-pitched squeak when he took in the hatchet, immediately froze the hand holding it. The bluest eyes Ruben had ever seen snapped up to him and pinned him right in place. Wow. Those eyes were greenish blue, like the inside of a glacier. Ruben had always thought it an incredible color and it was his favorite.

Aside from the stunning eyes, the crazy hatchet murderer was sexy as hell. Tall, maybe six-feet-two or three, broad shouldered, with short hair the color of straw and the same blond stubble gracing his ruggedly handsome face. The blue and green checkered flannel shirt and worn jeans made him look like a model for those outdoor brands trying to sell tents, backpacks and climbing equipment. Or Thor. Ruben probably shouldn’t drool over the guy. Sexy or not, he was still a shotgun slash hatchet murderer. Wasn’t he?

Slowly, deliberately, the blond God lowered the hatchet beside the fish, then scrubbed his hands. While he dried them on a kitchen towel, his gaze traveled over Ruben’s body, from his rumpled bed-head down to his naked little toes. Ruben curled them and went beet red. Crap. The man’s intense gaze felt like a mix between a gentle caress and a hungry stare, able to peel the clothes off his body.

“Hi. You finally woke up.” His host had a deep, coarse voice that sent shivers down Ruben’s back. And that Norwegian accent! Heaven! Ruben had clearly lost his marbles out there in the cold.

“Are you all right?” the stranger asked, concern evident on his face. “I apologize for yesterday’s incident. It wasn’t my plan to frighten you. I thought you were trying to break in.”

Oh. Ruben forgave him. Absolutely. He’d forgive anything, even the things the man hadn’t done yet, if he kept talking in this wonderful, soothing voice. Instead of a funny or flirty reply though, all Ruben managed was a choked sound. Crap. The man had scrambled his brain.

“I’m Aleksander, by the way. You can call me Aleks.” He frowned those blond brows, looking even grumpier. And sexier. Ruben felt his legs turning into jelly. What a strong, fitting name for this God. He briefly wondered why he wasn’t scared anymore. The hatchet was still in easy reach.

“Don’t you understand English?” The God pronounced every word very clearly, as if he was talking to a dumb lug. Ruben had to admit he was acting bloody stupid. “Where are you from? I speak Norwegian, English, Swedish, and some Russian.”

Ruben cleared his throat multiple times. “London. I’m from London, I mean. It’s not my name.” Shit. He was so eloquent.
Not.
What a way to impress the hunky stranger who was the epitome of every gay man’s wet dream. Ruben felt his cheeks blush and laid a hand over his eyes. “Shit, sorry. Ignore me. My brain is still frozen or something! If you’re a crazy hatchet murderer, now would be a good time to strike. I promise to shriek like crazy, so you’ll acquire the most out of it.”