Body and Soul (Twist of Fate, Book 3)

by Lucy Lennox

  Work, Oz. You’re here to work, remember?

  I told my inner voice to buzz off and said, “You seem to know a lot about this stuff,” in the hopes of getting my bearings before I did something really stupid and asked Jake if he’d ever thought of kissing a guy to see if he might like it. “Are you an EMT or something?” I figured if he was a doctor, he would have mentioned it by now or I would have seen evidence of it with his comings and goings. From what I’d been able to tell, if he had a job, it was part-time only. His vehicle was in his driveway too much to account for the rigorous hours of a doctor.

  “No. But I am trained in first aid. I’m a wilderness guide.”

  The way he said the two things, almost as if they weren’t related, was odd. I watched him as he ran his fingers around the rest of my arm as if looking for any hidden burns he hadn’t seen on the first pass. Even though I knew he’d found the only burn, I let him keep touching me, if only so I could feel connected to another person for a few minutes.

  “A wilderness guide? In winter?”

  He looked up and I noticed his eyes change from silver to the hidden shades of fog.

  “In winter I do odd jobs.”

  Would it kill this guy to use more than the barest minimum of words? Was he afraid they cost money and he was on a tight budget?

  “What kind of odd jobs?” I pressed.

  He shrugged. “I get paid to keep an eye on a couple of vacation rentals on the mountain. There are a few trails I maintain to keep the way clear up to a local weather observation station on the top of the mountain. And then… I guess little things, like chop wood for people and help city folk get their cars out of ditches.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or not.

  “Was I supposed to pay you for that?” I asked as seriously as I could. It wasn’t until I grinned that his face broke out into a smile like the sun, dimples and all. Holy fuck, the man was sexy.

  “I’d ask you to bake me some cookies, but I’d be afraid of you burning the cabin to the ground in the process.”

  I was still staring at those dimples when I finally shook myself out of my reverie.

  “I can’t cook worth shit. No fear of burning down the place when I most likely won’t even turn the oven on all winter. If I can’t fix it in the microwave, I eat it raw.”

  An awkward silence descended. Even though his eyes were on me and not my injury, his fingers were running up and down the length of my forearm, stopping just short of the bandage on my wrist. Every pass had my dick responding in my pants. As much as I was enjoying the contact, I knew if he didn’t stop, there’d be no chance in hell of hiding my condition, not in the Tom Ford joggers I was wearing. God, I really needed to get to town to find some clothes that were more suitable for the weather and had the added benefit of not outing my condition to this man every time he was in my presence.

  I should have just tugged my arm free, but instead I found myself covering his hand with mine to stop his movement.

  Big mistake.

  Because sparks flew.

  Electricity flared beneath my fingers where they were resting on the back of his hand. Jake dropped his eyes to our hands, and I did the same. My skin was pale against his, and while my fingers were long and slim, his were thick, the pads rough. It was just one of a dozen reminders of how different he and I were.

  The whole thing lasted just seconds, but it felt like forever. I was sure I was going to pass out from the lack of oxygen to my brain because I was holding my breath to see what he would do.

  What he did was drop my hand like a hot potato. I managed not to react to the stinging pain that shot up my arm. Jake practically stumbled to his feet. “Ah, anyway, I’m going to run over to your place and see if I can get the furnace working and the smoke cleared out. Help yourself to anything. There’s a coffee maker on the counter and water in the fridge.”

  Before I could thank him, he’d raced out of his own cabin like he’d forgotten to defuse a bomb in the yard.

  I stared after him for a beat, feeling a bit like the recipient of alternating hot and cold water in a cheap-ass shower.

  Oh yeah, he was definitely straight. He had the straight-guy-dash going on and everything.

  But his absence gave me the prime opportunity to look around. While I knew better than to invade the man’s privacy, my curiosity got the better of me. Plus, I had to find at least something of color to brighten up the front room with. How could he even live like that without wanting to slit his wrists?

  The first thing I did was turn off the harsh overhead light in the main room and turn on the two lamps on the side tables. They weren’t much to look at, but they provided the softer, more intimate lighting of a home instead of the brighter light of a store or something. When I flicked on the lamp on the far side of the table, I noticed a tall basket stashed in the corner of the room. Several old quilts lay abandoned in the bottom of the basket, along with what looked like two pillows made out of the exact same leather as the sofa itself.

  I pulled out the more attractive of the three patchwork quilts and folded it into a diamond shape to lie over the sofa, giving the room a nice splash of red, navy blue, and kelly green color blocks.

  I glanced down at Boo. “Better, don’t you think?”

  She huffed before hopping up to the corner of the quilt that was lying on the sofa cushion and curling up in a ball to test it out. We made a good team.

  If only I’d had a piece of that patterned fleece I’d almost bought for one of my designs. It would have coordinated perfectly with the quilt and would have taken me all of ten seconds to sew into a basic throw pillow cover. Those tired leather pillows needed some serious help. Hell, the entire cabin needed a makeover.

  I left Boo in the living area and wandered into the bedroom, only to notice the same boring lack of color there. The simple comforter was solid beige over a cream-colored wool blanket. I shuddered at the lack of personality in his most private room. I could see the door to his closet was open, and I couldn’t help but peer in to see what was in there.

  Who was I kidding? I wanted to sniff it. I already knew that Jake himself smelled like a combination of pine, firewood, and antibacterial soap, and I couldn’t help but wonder if his clothes retained that smell too.

  I stepped forward into the tiny space and immediately set eyes on a thick cashmere scarf hanging next to a formal wool coat. The scarf was a gorgeous deep blue, similar to the color found in the quilt I’d selected for the sofa. After flipping through his closet for an item in the coordinating green, I carried them both back out to the sofa and tied first one, then the other around one of the old leather pillows. I tied the ends off in a decorative knot and admired my handiwork. The quilt over the back of the sofa, the blue cashmere scarf pillow in one corner and the green twill work shirt pillow in the other. A little color for Jake’s place.

  Much better.

  Once his place was a little more welcoming with the soft lamplight and the splashes of color, I felt more at home and finally allowed myself to find the coffee maker in the kitchen. By the time the pot was full, I heard Jake kick off his boots by the front door.

  “Any luck?” I called out, carrying the last of the coffee supplies to the little table in the main room. I’d also found some store-bought cookies in a cabinet and had put a few on a small plate I’d found in one of the cabinets. “Coffee’s ready if you’d like some.”

  He looked from the little table set with the only pair of matching mugs I’d been able to find to the touches of color in the sitting area where my dog was clearly making herself at home on his furniture.

  “What… what’s all this?”

  “Coffee,” I said. “How do you take yours? I take mine black, of course. Took me forever to give up those final calories and fat grams, but I did it. Not that I wouldn’t mind you having cream and sugar. I’ll just watch and pretend mine has them too.”

  Okay, so maybe I rambled when I got nervous.

  Jake studied me,
like really studied me. I felt his eyes graze my body like he was running strong, assessing fingers down it. I felt the saliva build up in my mouth and the oxygen jam in my lungs.

  “Why in the world would you need to cut calories and fat?” His voice was low and firm, almost threatening in a way. As if I’d better have a damned good explanation for my dietary choices.

  “Never mind,” I mumbled. “Maybe I’ll put a tiny bit in just this once. A consolation prize for ruining my marshmallows in the fire.”

  Jake seemed to clamp his lips against a smile. “Is that what I found melted against the side of your flue?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Go on. You can laugh. But it wasn’t my fault. When Zoey told me to open the flue, I panicked. I forgot I’d already loaded the marshmallows on the long skewer thingy before I jammed it up the flue. So then I had to reach in there and open the flue with my hand instead. And, well… you know the rest.”

  It occurred to me that I’d normally bat my eyelashes when trying to get out of admitting something stupid like that, but with Jake, I didn’t feel like playing those silly games, not that they’d get me anywhere anyway. Honestly, I was tired. I wanted to get back to my place and assess the damage I’d done to the fabrics I’d already purchased. Thankfully, there were more that hadn’t arrived from New York yet, but I’d had a fair amount of expensive silk and wool in that room when the smoke had overtaken the place. More than likely, it was all ruined.

  Jake’s hand landed on mine where it lay on the table. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  I’d stopped breathing again because, you know, the hand thing. God, this guy was going to kill me. He needed to brush up on his how-a-straight-guy-should-behave-in-the-company-of-a-gay-guy handbook.

  “What do you mean?” I managed to ask.

  “You were smiling and then…” His words dropped off.

  “And then what?” I asked.

  “Then you stopped.”

  His words were a mix of confusion and surprise–like he hadn’t been planning on admitting that last part.

  He’s straight, he’s straight, he’s straight!

  I ignored the voice in my head and left my hand where it was. My dick had calmed down after he’d left, but I knew it wouldn’t last. “Um, I’m designing some clothes and had some really high-end textiles in there. They’re probably unuseable now. I guess I should be grateful I hadn’t actually cut and sewn them up yet. At least I only lost the materials instead of the labor too.”

  “You’re a clothing designer?”

  His response seemed to ease my libido a little. Although I knew he hadn’t meant anything by the surprise in his voice, I also knew it was the reaction I’d get from all my colleagues when they found out what I was doing. Even Zoey had been shocked when I’d told her of my plans so many weeks ago. I hated that it stung, but it did. I shrugged. “Trying to be, anyway. We’ll see. I’m designing a collection to present in February in New York. That’s why I’m here, actually. To focus so I can get a whole bunch of work done in a short amount of time. There were too many distractions back home.”

  “Can you get more fabric?” Jake seemed to realize his hand was still resting on mine and pulled it back quickly under the guise of clutching his coffee mug.

  “Yes. I have an order on its way, but I’ll have to replace what was damaged. I wonder if there’s a fabric warehouse in Denver.” I made a mental note to look up nearby resources because I would surely need last-minute items like buttons and zippers as I got further into production.

  I noticed Jake glance again at the makeshift decorative pillows I’d set out on the sofa. Despite not mentioning anything about them, surely he appreciated what I’d done to make the place more livable and less depressing. But when his jaw stiffened the longer he studied them, I shifted awkwardly.

  God, I’d gone too far.

  “I’m sorry, I just… I thought you wouldn’t mind a bit of color. I could, uh, go grab some stuff to make you new pillows for your sofa. They’re super quick, and it’ll help your place look more like a home…”

  As I spoke, he went to the couch. His eyes were laser focused on the pillow with the blue scarf around it. He picked it up and then carefully and slowly worked the fabric off the pillow. I’d been careful not to stretch or damage the material when I’d wrapped it around the pillow, but he was acting like I’d used the scarf as a mat for stomping your boots on when you walked into the cabin.

  “Not necessary,” Jake said, his voice low and flat. “It’s fine the way it is. I don’t need any of that colorful shit. You can go back to your place now. I fixed the heat. It was just a popped circuit on the electrical panel.”

  I stared at him in shock. It was like he’d flipped a switch and gone from nice, arm-caressing man to cold, get-outta-here asshole.

  “Oh. Okay. Well, thanks for all your… help.” I stood up and looked back at him as I headed toward the door, scooping Boo up on my way.

  “If your burn looks red or you start to spike a fever—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, raising a hand above my head to wave off his concern. “Come find you, I know.”

  “No. I was going to say, you might want to go to the clinic in town and ask them for help.”

  I felt a stinging kind of numbness take over. It had been a long time since a man I found attractive hadn’t wanted me. Even the straight ones were usually willing to consider it, based on my looks alone. But to have him not even want to be around me long enough to check my wound if it got infected? Especially after all the concern he’d just shown me?

  It took everything I had to keep from running out of there and back to my cabin to lick my wounds. Instead, I remembered to kill him with kindness. I turned to look at him with a big smile–the kind that had lined my pockets and filled my bank accounts to overflowing.

  “Will do. Thanks ever so much for your kind attention to my wound and your quick repair to my furnace problem. As per your wishes, I’ll be sure not to bake or sew you anything in thanks… and to stay out of your way in the future. Have a nice evening.”

  I didn’t wait for a response before snatching up Boo’s sweater and walking out, gently easing the door closed behind me, even though all I really wanted to do was slam it. I set Boo on the ground so she could explore the outdoor smells on our short trip back to our own cabin. She immediately took off run-hopping through the snow in pursuit of something or other at the edge of the forest.

  “Fine, just go,” I called after her. “Apparently I’m terrible company anyway. Who could blame you?”

  After an hour of trying to clean out the smoke smell from what little there was in the cabin, I decided to head down into town to check out what kind of clothing the little hamlet offered.

  But I knew it wasn’t really about the clothes. Zoey had been right. I craved personal connection, even more so now that my gorgeous but cold neighbor had proven that not only was I not what he was looking for in a quick fuck, I wasn’t even good enough to be a friend.

  I might not need the fuck, but I couldn’t deny that a friend wouldn’t hurt right about now.

  Maybe in addition to the clothes, I could pick one of those up in town too.

  The thought had me smiling just a bit, but as I searched out my car keys and headed to my car, I couldn’t help but look in the direction of Jake’s cabin.

  There was no denying I was a glutton for punishment.

  Chapter 4

  Jake

  “Jake, welcome home.”

  The sound of Peter’s voice fell over me like a warm blanket. I’d been busy checking over my shoulder, so I didn’t see him until I was almost on top of him. I practically threw myself into his arms. There were so many things I needed to tell him, but I didn’t know where to start.

  “Hey,” Peter said with a laugh as he embraced me, then gently eased me back. His eyes skimmed over me quickly, then he frowned. “Where’s your coat?” he asked. “Did you forget it’s winter here?” he asked with a smile, then he was removing
the scarf from around his neck and moving closer to me.

  “Peter, I need to talk to you,” I said in a rush, ignoring the brush of his fingers against my neck as he tied the scarf around my throat.

  “Okay, well, let’s go inside where it’s warm,” he said, his brown eyes dancing softly as he stepped back and looked me over again. I momentarily forgot everything else but how it felt just to be around him.

  “God, I’ve missed you so much,” I heard myself whisper. “I have so much I need to tell you.”

  He looked at me thoughtfully, then nodded. “Me too, Jake. Me too. But inside, okay?”

  I nodded and looked at the coffee shop. It wasn’t overly busy, so we’d have the privacy we needed. “Okay.”

  Peter held my gaze for a moment longer, then let out a sigh and stepped toward me. I was happy to move into his proffered embrace. But before he could wrap his arms around me, I heard a loud popping sound.

  And then another.

  I was jerked from my thoughts at the sound of an engine revving to life. The beautiful blue scarf was crushed between my fingers so I quickly gentled my hold on it. I glanced out the window and saw a flash of red go down the driveway.

  Oz.

  Leaving.

  Because I’d driven him away.

  By being a dick yet again.

  I let out a sigh and stared at the scarf in my hands. Then I did something I hadn’t done in a really long time and brought it up to my nose.

  But the once-familiar scent of Burberry cologne was long gone.

  I forced myself to lower the scarf and return it to my closet. I knew I owed Oz an apology, but I also knew I wouldn’t be going near him again. If I hadn’t already realized how attracted I was to him before, there was definitely no hiding from it now. And attraction was only part of the problem.

  My thoughts drifted back to his comments about his dog. There’d been a certain wistfulness in his words, and I’d gotten the impression that he hadn’t just been talking about the ugly little animal.