Chapter 5 Damon
DAMON
It’s surreal, looking out the window at nothing but white. The wind howling around the car is the only sound except for the chattering of our teeth. The temperature in the car dropped fast.
“Do you want the blanket, boss?” Rowan asks.
I shake my head and hug myself tighter.
We’ve been sipping water to keep ourselves hydrated, and we’ve eaten a couple of squares each of the Kendal Mint Cake. It’s overly sweet, but I have to admit it’s given me a much-needed energy boost. The trouble is, now I need to piss. I guess I’ll have to leave the safety of the car.
“Be right back.” I push the door open.
Rowan puts his hand on the back of the passenger seat. “Where are you going?”
“To piss.” I brush my fingertips against his for the briefest of moments. I tell myself I’m doing it to reassure him, and not because I want to hold him in my arms to keep him warm.
I step into thick snow and shut the door.
Damn, it’s freezing out here. My costume is going to do fuck all to insulate me.
I trudge a short distance away and glance around to make sure I’m alone.
Not that there would be anyone else out here.
Heck, I can’t even see the car through the snow.
Luckily, I can see my shoe prints. I open my zip and fly and take the quickest piss imaginable.
I swear it’s so cold that my stream turns to ice before it hits the snow.
I tuck myself back in before my dick gets frostbite and retrace my steps to the car.
Once inside, I clap my hands together and blow on them.
“Now you’re wet.” Rowan unwraps the blanket and holds it out to me.
I shouldn’t take it, but damn, I’m cold, damp, and shivering. “Thank you.” I’ll return it as soon as I’ve warmed up a bit. “Why don’t you come into the back?” I motion to the other seat. “You could put the footrest up and try to get some sleep.”
“I’m fine.” He smiles cheerfully.
Even now, when we’re in pretty dire circumstances, he’s still happy. How the fuck does he manage it? Meanwhile, I’m thinking of all the ways I’m going to get revenge on Nigel the next time I see him. Not that the freak snowstorm is his fault, but it should have been him stuck in the snow, not me.
Rowan clamps his hands under his armpits. “It’s not slowing at all, is it?”
“Nope.”
“I’ve never seen snow this bad before. It’ll be fun to make snow angels when it’s stopped coming down.”
“You’ll get soaked.”
“I have an overnight bag in the boot of the car.” He winks.
“Overnight bag?” I slap my forehead. “Of course! We can put on extra clothes. It will help us keep warm.”
Rowan purses his lips. “I’m in work mode. I only bought a pair of trousers and a shirt. And underwear, of course.”
“Better than nothing.”
“You’re right. I’ll go and get our bags.”
I give him a stern look and push authority into my voice as I say, “Stay there. I’ll get them.”
Braving the snow and the cold seems like a foolish idea the moment I step outside the car. I move around the vehicle as quickly as I can, but it’s got even thicker since I went for a piss. I retrieve our overnight bags and get into the car once more, my teeth chattering more than ever.
“Here.” I pass Rowan his bag and then search through my own for the jumper I’d packed. I put it on and change into dry socks.
Rowan puts on dry socks, takes his jacket off long enough to put on a second shirt, and then tugs on a second pair of trousers.
“I won’t be winning any fashion awards tonight,” he says in a tone that’s far too chirpy for the circumstances we’re in.
“You look good, though.” He grins. “I guess making snow angels is completely off the to-do list now. Although the hotel will have radiators, so we’ll be able to dry things there. ”
“The hotel? We’re missing the ball.”
“Yeah, but we still have rooms booked there.”
“You think there’s any chance of getting there tonight?”
He stares out the windscreen. “Probably not, but that’s not going to stop me from dreaming about getting into a warm, comfortable bed. Do you think the mattresses are soft or firm?”
I don’t want to put Rowan and mattresses in the same thought, otherwise I’ll start imagining things I shouldn’t. Like staring into his eyes as I hold his hands above his head and—
“Hopefully firm,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Firm is good. Personally, I like soft squishy mattresses that make you feel like you’re sleeping on a cloud.” He stretches and smiles adorably. “Add in fluffy pillows, and a thick quilt, and I’m in heaven.”
I can picture him lying in the middle of a soft mattress, a sweet smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling. I shouldn’t. But I can.
“If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?” he asks.
“At home.”
His eyes light up. “Tell me about it?”
“Erm… I live in an apartment block. Fourth floor. It’s nice and roomy. I’ve got a good view. It’s close to a train station.”
He rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t tell me anything about it.
I live in a tiny flat, over a cute little bakery.
Every morning, I wake up to the scent of freshly baked bread.
It’s amazing. There’s a takeaway next door, which is perfect for nights I can’t be bothered to cook.
I’m not allowed to put nails in the walls, so all my photos and art prints are propped up against them.
You can probably guess, but I have a lot of photos of cars. ”
“Photos you’ve taken?”
He shakes his head. “Pro shots, mostly.”
His enthusiasm is infectious, even though I’ve never been interested in cars beyond a means to get from A to Z. Even then, I’m not that fussed.
“What got you into cars?”
“My dad was a proper chauffeur—”
I raise my eyebrows.
“What? He had a hat and everything.”
“So you’re not a proper chauffeur, because you don’t wear a hat?”
He laughs. “Well, my job title is ‘driver’ and I don’t have a hat.”
And now I’m imagining him in nothing except a chauffeur hat. I clear my throat. “I interrupted you. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Dad was a chauffeur, and sometimes he was able to sneak me into the car he was driving.
The first one I remember was a limousine.
How could I not fall in love? It wasn’t as nice as this beauty, though.
” He stares at the ceiling. The twinkling lights are reflected in his eyes, creating a starscape in his pupils.
“What are your interests and hobbies? Other than sex toys.”
I almost choke. I grab my bottle of water, unscrew the cap, and take a cautious sip. Enough to clear the sudden lump in my throat, not enough to make the choking situation worse.
“You made a business out of them, so you must enjoy them,” Rowan said.
“The business was Nigel’s idea.”
“Uh-huh.”
Is it appropriate for us to be talking about sex toys?
Is it possible to avoid it, considering I’m a partner in a sex toy company, and he works for it?
If I want to change the subject, I need to answer his original question.
Do I want to change the subject? I could learn a lot about him if we stuck to this topic.
I’d learn things a boss shouldn’t know about his employee.
“I enjoy reading.”
“Let me guess. You’re a Dickens fan.”
“I’ve read several of his books, yes.”
“Is A Christmas Carol your favourite?”
I shake my head. “Great Expectations.”
“Ah, Pip and Magwitch. Did you find Miss Haversham creepy?”
I blink. “You’ve read it?”
He laughs. “Don’t look so surprised. I read books while I’m waiting to drive your brother back to the office.”
“And while you’re in the office?”
“Nah. I mostly bother Rubin.”
I frown. “One of the designers in Jim’s team?”
“Yes.” He grins. “But don’t worry, I don’t distract him from his work.”
“I should hope not,” I say sternly, but kindly.
I swear he shivers at the tone of my voice, but that could be wishful thinking on my part.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, boss.”
Now he’s got me shivering. And not because of the cold.
But it is damned cold and getting colder. His teeth are chattering louder, for all his cheerful chatter. And I’m hogging the blanket.
“Here. You need this more than I do.” I hand it to him.
He covers himself and huddles beneath it. “There’s got to be a better way for us both to keep warm.”
In the movies, people huddle together for warmth. If they’re wet, they get naked first, so their damp clothes don’t make things worse. Not that I can suggest that we snuggle up and share body heat under the blanket, even if it would help.
“We could be stuck out here all night,” he whispers, staring at me.
Has he had the same thought?
“We might be,” I say. “We could try ringing for help.”
“You think an RAC van will be able to get through this snow?”
I sigh. “No.”
“So we’re stuck.”
“For the night.”
“At least.”
I swallow.
“It’s going to get colder,” he says.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. “We need to stay as warm as we can.”
“We do.”
“For safety.”
Fuck, he has had the same thought. He might be dancing around voicing it out loud, but it’s as obvious as the snow around us that he wants to suggest it.
Or perhaps he’s hoping I will. Is it inappropriate if it’s a matter of survival?
I’m being overdramatic, but right now the possibility of turning into a pair of popsicles by morning is a bit too real.
I stare at the grey floor. Nigel once told me the mats are pure lambswool, a detail I suddenly find very interesting, as it’s stopping me from looking at Rowan and asking him to move to the back so we can keep each other warm.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been told I talk far too much,” he says.
“It’s fine.”
“You strike me as the quiet and thoughtful type.”
I half smile. “I’ve been accused of that.”
“Accused? I meant it as a compliment!” He clasps his hands in front of his face and blows on them. “Oh, God damn it, it’s cold. I feel bad for taking the blanket. Do you think it would stretch to cover us both if I sat in that seat?” He points at the other back seat.
“Maybe.”
“We could also keep warmth in if we closed the privacy screen.”
I frown. “Won’t you need to turn the engine back on?”
“Yes.”
“And to turn it off again, you’d need to be in the front.”
“Hmm… yes, but the electrics still work for a little while after the engine is turned off.”
I glance up. “How long will the stars stay on?”
“They’ve got their own battery, so hopefully as long as we need. Do you want to share the blanket?”
And his body warmth. However, that’s not what he’s offering. Not out loud, anyway.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
He turns the engine on, waits about a minute, then turns it off and climbs into the back, where he hits the privacy screen button.
It slides up smoothly, with only the faintest whisper of a whir and soft clunk.
Next, he raises the footrest to its highest position, which is almost level with the seat.
Seconds later, the welcome blast of heat stops abruptly. I swear it’s colder than before.
Rowan offers me one end of the blanket. I take it, managing to wrap it around myself. He sits sideways, his legs tucked up, his hand under his cheek as he stares at me.
“Better?”
We’re close enough that I can lean across the centre console to kiss him.
“Yes.”
He smiles. “Hopefully, it will warm up. Smaller space, breathing out warm air, body heat, and all that. Insert clever scientific explanation here.”
I laugh.
“Oh, so you can laugh.”
“Of course I can. Everyone can -.”
“I know. I’ve just never heard you do it before. You have a nice laugh.”
My breath catches in my throat.
“And apparently, the cold has stolen my brain-to-mouth filter. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise,” I whisper.
He grins. I want to kiss him even more. Want to keep him warm and take care of him through this ordeal. However, my brain-to-mouth filter is still working, so I keep all those thoughts firmly locked inside, where they belong.