by Sean Michael
“Because you weren’t taking care of yourself,” Luke told him flatly.
He opened his mouth to protest but Luke snorted.
“Seriously. You were three-quarters of the way to hypothermia, had no water and hadn’t eaten in who the hell knows how long when I found you. Don’t bother arguing with me.”
Greyson glared, but he couldn’t very well deny it.
“Anyway. I’ve got stuff to do. Go ahead and lie on the couch for a bit.” Luke threw a couple more logs on the fire, and headed into the kitchen, leaving Greyson on his own.
He supposed the couch was as good a place as any to crash. He didn’t want to be in Luke’s way any more than he had to be. He was too tired to worry about it anymore, though, so he let himself go, and sleep came as soon as he closed his eyes.
* * *
While Greyson slept, Luke unloaded the trailer, brought in more wood, and spent a long time staring out at the snow. There was a lot of it, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop until sometime tomorrow.
He radioed into headquarters, updating them on the conditions, making sure there wasn’t anyone else up here that he wasn’t aware of. He was glad there wasn’t. He didn’t know if he could leave Greyson alone. The man was too vulnerable. Not to mention, he already had a guest, which was one more than he’d had in the last fifteen winters combined.
He watched Greyson awhile, then went to make up some stew. It would make the place smell amazing and it would be nice and filling for Greyson. The man needed more sustenance than he’d been getting.
Greyson started having nightmares a few times and Luke would go over and poke him in the arm. The first time he did it, Greyson’s eyes shot open and he said, “What?” but after that he’d shift, half turn on the couch and relax back into a deeper sleep.
Those were some gnarly nightmares, keeping at Greyson like that.
Still, when Greyson woke up, he seemed alert, focused.
Luke had to wonder if it was the first time he hadn’t been woken by nightmares since the mine.
“Hey. Good nap?”
“Yeah. Yeah, seriously. Was I out long?”
“Five hours or so.” He nodded at the window. “It’s gone dark. You must be hungry. I’ve put a stew on, and I’ll bake some bread.” He had loaves in the freezer.
“How can I help?” Greyson managed a half-smile.
“Stir the stew? It’s been on low all day and needs to come back up to a boil before we dish up.” He stuck a little loaf into the oven and set the timer to fifteen minutes.
Greyson unwrapped himself and reached for his crutches, easing himself up carefully and heading to the kitchen. He stirred the soup, turned the stove up, then went to the window and stared out. “Look at the snow.”
“Yeah. It’s going to keep falling until tomorrow afternoon or so. Not enough to have us snowed in, but it’s early days yet.” They’d have more than a few blizzards before winter was over. There would be plenty of snowed-in time. It was a good thing the cabin had a guest room—they’d more or less be able to stay out of each other’s hair.
“I didn’t realize it would be so deep, I guess.”
“Because we’re not in the mountains?” Greyson had said he was from Vancouver, which meant more rain than snow and the only deep stuff was in the mountain ranges.
“Yeah. That little cabin is going to be buried.”
“Totally. You see why I brought you here?” He’d honestly thought Parks Canada had stopped trying to rent the place out. He’d have to file a report so they knew it was summer living only from now on. And to remind them he needed a heads-up next time.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”
“You’re going to stay here.” Whether he wanted the company or not, he wasn’t leaving Greyson in the cabin to die.
“Can you do that?”
“I can. It’s my house. It doubles as the ranger station, but I built it, furnished it, etc. I get to say what happens here.” He’d like to see anyone even think about telling him what he could and couldn’t do. Even the thought of it had him growling.
“I’ll have to get to a bank to pay you for...food, rent, stuff. I don’t...”
“Shh.”
“What?”
“Shh. Breathe. We’ll talk later.” Like there was a bank anywhere near here. Hells, like he was going to let this guy pay for anything. Luke was richer than fucking God. Richer than any of his brothers. Being a loner was a hell of a lot cheaper than living among people. “You need to focus on breathing, relaxing, and getting well.”
“I don’t think I’m really going to get well.”
“Even if you don’t, I bet you can feel better. There’s a lot of power in positive thinking—that’s not hooey.”
“Well, we’ll see. Where are the bowls?”
“Cupboard over the counter between the sink and the stove. There’s big earthenware ones that hold the heat really well.” He grabbed the milk from the fridge and a couple of glasses and finished setting the table.
The bread was giving the place an amazing smell and he stopped for a moment to close his eyes and breathe it in. There was a hint of Greyson there, too. Huh. He wasn’t used to smelling anyone else in his home. He opened his eyes again to take in the sight of Greyson standing by the stove, the long hair in major disarray. Someone needed to tame that.
“Do you like more chunks or more broth in your bowl?” Greyson asked.
“Yes, please.” He wanted a big bowl of everything with a couple of good-sized pieces of bread to dip into it.
“Right on.” Greyson carefully dished up the stew into a bowl and handed it to him.
“Do yours, and I’ll carry them both over to the table.” The bread was about ready, too. Though, they’d have to give it a few minutes to cool so Greyson didn’t burn his fingers. Luke didn’t really have that problem.
Greyson poured about half as much into his own bowl and handed it over. Luke took them both over to the table, and the oven buzzer went off as he set them down.
“Come sit and I’ll pull the bread out. You drink milk?” And wasn’t this strangely nice, setting the table for two, sharing another meal?
“I do.”
“Good. It freezes really well as long as you defrost it slowly. It’s amazing, actually, what all you can freeze.” He went and got the bread, setting it on a cutting board, then bringing it and a knife over to the table. “Dig in.”
“Am I using your stores? I mean, I can contribute.”
“We’re good. I always put in more than I need. I have a full-sized meat freezer, and then another for milk, butter, and frozen fruit and vegetables, then another with bread, bagels, etc. Plus, there’s the cold pantry and the dry goods one. We’re not going to run out anytime soon.” Besides, he could always go out and get them some fresh meat if needed.
“I’ll totally contribute.”
He resisted the urge to snap, “How?” Instead he pointed at Greyson’s bowl and growled out, “Eat.”
Greyson nodded, pushing his hair back behind his ears and tucking in. Luke watched the first few bites, enjoying the fact that Greyson seemed to have a good appetite.
Oh for fuck’s sake. That was idiotic. What did he care what kind of appetite Greyson had? He grabbed the bread and cut a couple of thick slices, taking one for himself and slathering butter on it. Then he dug in.
Greyson was silent as he ate quickly. Luke wasn’t sure if it was because he was so hungry or if it was because Luke was a growly bastard and Greyson was hoping to eat fast and go to his room.
“There’s plenty more,” he noted. “So, if you’re still hungry, I’ll refill your bowl. And have some bread. It’s really good.”
“This is plenty, but thank you. It’s delicious. It’s been a long time since I
had stew.”
“Yeah? Do you like cooking? Can you cook?” Luke was damn good at it, unlike most of his brothers, who burned meat and ordered pizza. He had no clue how they’d survived before fast food had become a thing.
“I don’t know. I haven’t really tried. I think I’d like it.”
“Well, for the next six months we’ve got nothing but time.” He wasn’t used to sharing cooking duties, but Greyson would need something to do or he’d go stir-crazy.
“Yeah. Well, I’m not stupid. I can learn.”
“Did I say I thought you were stupid?” He hadn’t said it or insinuated it or anything.
“Nope.”
“Then I don’t know why you said it.” He glowered. The last thing Greyson needed was to be putting himself down and Luke wasn’t letting it happen.
“I was making it clear that I’m capable and willing to learn,” Greyson pointed out frostily.
“Okay, then. We’ll start tomorrow. What do you want to try first?” He had any meat Greyson could think of, he was sure.
“I have no idea. What are my options?”
“Anything you want. If I don’t know how to make it, we’ll find a recipe.” This didn’t have to be hard.
“Hamburgers?”
“Those are super easy—a good place to start. We can make french fries to go with them.”
“Those I’ve made. I like the ones that can go in the microwave and the oven.”
“We’ll do ’em from scratch. Peel the potatoes and everything.” He didn’t have any frozen fries. They had plenty of potatoes.
“Isn’t that hard? The cooks in our battalion said it was hard.”
“Really?” Boring, maybe. Hard, no. He shrugged. “I’m guessing it was more that they didn’t like peeling potatoes.”
“Not my job. I was out on the front lines.”
“Did you like it? I mean, before the landmine.”
“I liked being active, and I liked making a difference.”
Luke nodded. “I get that.” It was why he didn’t simply live in the woods, but patrolled the land, helped those in need.
“Yeah.” Greyson’s gaze dropped, the man hiding inside himself.
“We’re kindred spirits, you and I.” He reached out and laid his hand on top of Greyson’s.
Greyson’s hand was icy, trembling under his.
“You’re freezing.” Even after eating and being inside for several hours. “I think we should get you back to the fireplace. Get a nice hot beverage into you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just... My circulation must be horked.”
“I imagine so. Spending so much time in that cold little cabin on top of your injuries.” Luke shrugged. “The whys don’t really matter.”
“I guess not.” Greyson took a deep breath. “I’ll do the dishes.”
“That should help thaw your hands. We don’t have a dishwasher here.” He didn’t need it for one person. Hell, they didn’t need one with two of them. “I’ll get the fire stoked up. I think you should sleep by it tonight. I can show you your room, though.”
“Sure. Whatever’s easiest for you.”
“I’m thinking of what you need, actually, and what you need is to stay warm. Couch in front of the fire is the best spot for that. Actually, the rug in front of the fire is the best spot, but I don’t think you want to be sleeping on the floor.”
“No. I can’t get up from there, obviously.”
“Plus the floor is hard.” Luke made a face. He liked soft things for sleeping. And sitting. And he doubted Greyson would want to be hauled up off the floor. Luke sure wouldn’t.
“Yeah. I’m not doing so well with hard things these days.”
“Dishes aren’t that hard. To do, I mean.” He had no idea where he was going with this. He pushed himself away from the table. “I’ll rustle up some dessert while you’re doing that.”
Greyson went to the sink and began to wash dishes, his head down, obviously working on balance, on steadying himself. Luke didn’t say anything, but he watched Greyson the entire time, ready to catch him if Greyson lost the battle. A fall would hurt more than Greyson’s dignity.
Luke had ice cream in the kitchen fridge freezer. “You like strawberry-pistachio ice cream?” Because he did. To distraction. He ate it by the gallon.
“I’ve never tried it.” The dishes were done and Greyson was standing there.
“Really? It’s amazing. Seriously.” He grabbed a couple of bowls, then changed his mind and put the bowls back. “This deserves cones.” They were in the dry pantry and he grabbed a couple before returning to Greyson. “If you want to go sit on the couch, I’ll bring them out.”
“I can’t.”
He opened his mouth to snap at Greyson, then realized it probably had something to do with his legs. So instead he picked up Greyson and carried him toward the couch.
There was a mix of shame, pain, and gratitude on Greyson’s face, which told him that he’d made the right choice. Helping Greyson felt good, and so did holding him like this.
He set Greyson carefully down onto the couch, leaning against one high arm, legs spread out. Greyson wouldn’t look at him. Luke didn’t linger and make him feel more self-conscious—he went back to the kitchen to make up the ice cream cones.
“I’m sorry, man. They stiffen up.”
“You don’t need to apologize for hurting.” He growled a little. “So stop doing it.”
“You’re a growly son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
“I have been accused of that a time or two.” It was who he was. If people didn’t like it they could keep their distance. Except for Greyson. He was going to need to get used to it because there was nowhere else for him to go.
“Well, you’re a kind, growly son of a bitch.”
Luke snorted. “That’s because I like you.” He wasn’t always kind. He didn’t tolerate idiots very well and there seemed to be a lot of those in the world. And if he thought about it, he did like Greyson.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
He put a double scoop into the first cone and took it over to Greyson. “Of course, everything might change if you diss my favorite ice cream flavor.”
“Isn’t it cold for ice cream?” Greyson took a lick, smiled, and licked again.
“Nope. Best time for it. The cold inside you makes your body work to warm you up.” He went back and dished up his own. “You like it, don’t you?”
“I do. It’s rich, tart. I approve.”
“Good. You can stay.” He was only half joking.
He finished putting two scoops on his own cone, and put the tub of ice cream away. Then he went to join Greyson on the couch.
Greyson was working carefully, licking around the edges of the cone, making sure none of the drips got away. Luke found himself watching Greyson, watching that tongue work the ice cream. Did he look that obscene when he ate his?
“Do you want mine?” Greyson asked.
Luke shook himself. “Nope. If I want more, I’ll get it out of the freezer. You can have more if you want, too. Whenever you’re hungry, feel free to search the fridge or the cupboards or whatever and eat what you find.” He might be a grump, but he wasn’t tight, especially not with the essentials.
“Thank you. Seriously.” Greyson licked again.
“You’re welcome, just as seriously.” God, that tongue. Shit, what was wrong with him?
Greyson gave him a quick grin, then dragged his tongue over the pink treat.
Luke couldn’t have contained his moan if he’d tried. And he did try because what the fuck.
Icy blue eyes shot up and Greyson watched him. He met Greyson’s gaze, refusing to apologize. This was his house. He was an adult male and if he found himself enjoying the sweet sight of that t
ongue, then so be it. Besides, Greyson pinged his gaydar hard; Luke could always tell. Tension grew between them until a cold drop of ice cream dripped off his cone and landed on his hand. He grunted and shoved the thing in his mouth, chewing it instead of licking.
“You’re tired and I should let you sleep. You really will be more comfortable out here in front of the fire, and the couch is big enough to sleep on.”
“As long as I’m not in the way...”
Luke shook his head. Greyson’s recovery was important and it would happen quicker if his body didn’t have to work on keeping him warm. Luke crunched the empty bottom part of his cone and got up, heading toward the fireplace. “I’ll stoke this up, leave a couple of big logs on it so it burns overnight, and let you get some peace.”
“I hate to think I’m chasing you out of your own living room.”
“Don’t worry about it, I have a great bedroom.” Did that sound boastful? Did he care? Probably not.
“As long as I’m not putting you out.”
“I’ve already said you’re not. If you want to start putting me out, go ahead and keep on saying that.” He growled the words out and poked the fire more vigorously than needed.
“Excuse me for trying to be a considerate guest,” Greyson snapped.
Luke muttered under his breath, and added a couple of large logs that ought to last a good while. Then he went and got a pillow and another blanket for Greyson.
“Thanks.” Greyson tugged the blanket over his legs.
Luke grunted and turned off the kitchen light, then the living room light. Then he went back and grabbed a bottle of water and set it on the floor next to Greyson.
“If you need anything call out.”
“I won’t need anything.”
“Suit yourself.” He tucked the edge of the blanket beneath Greyson’s shoulder and headed to bed. He’d listen to some music and read. It should be easy enough to forget that he had an unexpected guest in the house.
Chapter Five
Greyson slept hard and deep, the dreams fuzzier tonight than they’d been in a long time. They seemed almost like a movie, playing on a screen instead of inside him. Then things changed and the pain began, bringing the nightmares with it.