Page 14 of Cold Winter Nights
“I’ll let you scope out a few titles, read the back flaps, and you just holler if you have any questions, or need a good rec, okay?”
“Thank you,” Royal whispered.
Stone’s cock gave a slight twitch, as if telling him ‘hey, I still exist down here.’
Royal moved down the last aisle and when he got to the end he glanced up and started when he saw him.
Royal’s lips parted, but no words came out, and for too long, they stared at each other across the narrow space.
“Hey, city boy,” Stone muttered, killing the weird silence.
Royal blinked those modelesque lashes before his mouth twisted into something that was almost a smile.
“Hi.”
Stone was about to go back to hammering when Royal took a few shy steps forward.
“Thanks for earlier.” Royal thumbed over his shoulder. “Helping me to the um…for the clothes.”
“Sure,” he murmured, unable to look up, “it was no problem. Looks like Jessie got you all situated.”
Stone knew his gaze was lingering too long on Royal’s thighs, but he couldn’t turn away.
The silence began again and stretched on, but this time it wasn’t so uncomfortable. At least not for him.
“I saw the counter in the Jessie’s clothes’ store had Stone Wood etched in the side.” Royal began, his voice low and reverent. “It was nice…very nice.”
That time he mustered the courage to meet Royal’s pretty brown eyes. “Thanks.”
“I’d love to see more of your work,” Royal’s melodic voice lowered to a sexy whisper. “I mean, if you know…if you wanna show me.”
Stone got off his knees and rose to his full height, realizing how close Royal had gravitated towards him.
“Sure,” he grumbled. “I don’t mind.”
“Having any luck finding something of interest, Royal?” Rose popped up, dousing cold water on the hot tension building between them.
“Uh, I, I think so,” Royal answered…but he didn’t have any books in his hands.
Stone swallowed the hard lump that’d formed in his throat. The awareness of neglected feelings in his cock grew into an undeniable ache.
He wondered for the first time in a long time if it was possible for him to want again.
Royal
By the weekend, Royal couldn’t believe he’d only been in Windeville a week. He still took his hypertension medication, but he hadn’t had to take Tylenol for the last couple of days. He no longer checked his phone out of habit, wondering why it hadn’t rang or pinged with a message, and the anxiousness that would flutter in his chest when he ventured into town had gone, along with the headaches.
He realized the people here weren’t putting on an act, they were genuinely glad to see him when he strolled through the town, or shopped in the general store, or the bookstore, or when he went in the post office to mail his parents a postcard.
Royal turned off the television with the remote. He’d been binging some of the shows Google said were the best-rated series that year. He couldn’t believe how long it’d been since he’d sat and watched something that wasn’t on CNBC.
Damn, CGI has really come a long way.
He’d been so engrossed in the fourth season ofOutlanderhe was about to miss dinner. Since he was the only lodger, the cooks went out of their way to impress him. But when Myra—the evening cook—said she’d stayed up all night to learn how to make beef wellington and truffle risotto so he’d feel like he was dining in a fancy Manhattan restaurants, he’d gave her a considerate but stern warning to never do that again.
Royal liked her down-home cooking that she made with all of her heart and soul, and he promised her that there wasn’t a damn thing he missed about New York. Not the traffic, the people, andespeciallynot the food.
She’d kissed him on the cheek, and from then on, she’d made her own specialties.