Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ru found himself in the utility room, being methodically outfitted for their expedition.
Jake had told him to ditch the jeans and jumper in favour of a pair of thermal leggings and matching long sleeved vest, leaving him for a moment to make the change.
Ru’d caught sight of himself in the mirror and grimaced.
Calvin Klein didn’t have to anything to worry about.
“Raise your arms,” Jake ordered, holding out a thermal mid-layer that looked far too small even for Ru.
“There’s no way that’s going to fit. I didn’t realise you ran survival courses for kids.”
“It’ll fit, and no I don’t.” Jake glared at him through narrowed, heavily lidded eyes. “And what did I say about doing what you were told?”
Yes, Daddy… The words bubbled on Ru’s tongue.
“Arms up!”
Ru shot his arms into the air. Jake guided the stretchy fabric down over Ru’s raised arms and torso, tugging the garment into place, hands brushing down Ru’s sides through the thin material, every touch sending a bolt of electricity straight to Ru’s core.
Jake’s fingertips lingered at his waist, adjusting the fit, but the contact made Ru catch his breath.
“Told you it’d fit.” Jake’s face was close enough that Ru could feel the warmth of his breath, could smell the distinctive scent of him, of woodsmoke and warm spices, all of it making Ru want to lean in closer.
“This goes next.” Jake held up a thin fleece.
“It doesn’t look much, but it’s made for sub-zero temperatures.
The layers trap heat between them and are more effective than one thick layer. ”
As Ru slipped his arms into the offered garment, Jake’s hands smoothed over his shoulders, travelled down his arms, glided down his sides. Every touch was sure and confident, yet gentle, and all Ru wanted to do was whimper.
“Next it’s the outer layer, appropriate head gear, and boots.”
“At this rate, I’ll be a survival expert myself by the time I—” Leave. The word burnt through him.
Jake paused, a dark glint in his eyes Ru couldn’t quite identify. Jake stepped closer, breaking through and trashing Ru’s personal space. “Oh, I doubt that.” Jake’s voice was low and gruff yet intimate. “You’re a city boy to the core.”
Ru gulped. “Guilty as charged,” he croaked, viscerally aware of their proximity, of the few, scant centimetres of charged air separating their bodies. His heart hammered against his ribs as Jake held his gaze for a beat longer before he stepped back.
When Jake knelt to help him with the insulated snow boots, clearly skeptical of Ru’s ability to properly secure them himself, Ru gripped the utility room counter with white knuckles.
The sight of Jake on his knees, strong fingers adjusting the buckles around Ru’s ankles, sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through him. Jake’s fingers brushed against his calf through the fabric of his borrowed trousers. Ru did his best not to whimper again, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.
“Too tight?” Jake looked up. In this position, with Jake gazing up at him from below, his green eyes seemed even more intense. Jake’s face, way too close to his crotch, sent Ru’s imagination spiralling in dangerous directions.
“No,” Ru managed, his voice strangled and strained. “Perfect fit.”
Jake nodded, apparently oblivious to Ru’s reaction as he stood and reached for his own gear.
“Headgear and gloves, then we can move out.”
Jake thrust a thin snood at him, the material almost silky, and way too flimsy to keep out the cold. Jake caught his eye and smirked.
“Like the mid-layer you’re wearing, it’s designed for extremely low temperatures. You need this as well.” Jake handed over a padded hat with ear flaps. “Just have faith, all right?”
Ru nodded. He had faith in Jake Whitby, more faith than he’d had in any man for a long, long time.
Pulling his own headgear on Jake looked strong, capable and in charge, every inch the soldier he’d been. Ru glanced away. Everything he’d always looked for, everything he’d ultimately never found.
“Right, let’s go. And put your gloves on.” Jake stared down at him as Ru fumbled them on.
As they stepped outside, the cold hit with shocking intensity despite all the layers. “Christ, I knew it was cold but—”
“The temperature’s nosedived since I found you in the barn. You picked the right time to get stranded. Here, one last thing.” Jake’s brow creased as he tugged the jacket’s hood up and over Ru’s head, fastening it at the throat.
Jake looked up suddenly, catching Ru off-guard. Their gazes held for a second that felt like an eternity. The moment snapped as Jake stepped back, and Ru let go of a shaky breath.
“Let’s get going. We don’t want to be out for too long.”
Ru’s breath clouded in front of him as he followed Jake away from the house, their boots crunching in snow that reached his knees. Even in the bulky winter gear, Jake moved with a predator’s grace, his body navigating the challenging terrain with instinct and ease.
“Stay in my tracks,” Jake instructed, breaking a path through the pristine white expanse. “The snow’ll be hiding uneven ground.”
Ru did as he was told, literally following in Jake’s footsteps, trusting Jake’s judgment about the safest path forward.
It was sensible and practical, sure, but to Ru it summed up perfectly not only Jake’s protective instinct, buried under layers of grumpiness that, just maybe, might have been beginning to fracture, but also his own easy willingness to not just accept but want that protection.
Ru stared at Jake’s broad back and frowned as the thought dug beneath his skin.
Sure, he was easy going, always had been, maybe too much at times, but he’d never knowingly and consciously adopted a subordinate role so what—
“Oofff!”
Strong hands grabbed him, stopping him from falling face first into the snow drift he hadn’t even seen. A pair of glittering eyes bore into him.
“When you’re out in conditions like this, you have to keep all your wits about you. The smallest lapse in concentration can mean big trouble. Look back at the house.”
Ru turned and gasped. The big, stone farmhouse was no more than a ghostly, fading outline. “But it was blue sky when we left. Or mostly,” he said, looking back at Jake.
“Freezing fog. Give it another ten minutes, if that, and you won’t be able to see to the end of your nose. Come on. And concentrate.”
As they trudged through the snow, Jake taking point, it wasn’t long before Ru was struggling and he began to fall behind. Jake stopped, turned, and waited.
When Ru reached him, he was out of breath. “I’ve never been in snow like this before, I’m sorry.” He didn’t meet Jake’s eye, embarrassed at being so woefully unprepared. Just another useless city boy.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. These are extreme weather conditions few people in this country experience.
” Jake’s words were matter of fact, as if it were no big deal.
“So you’re struggling a little? I’d have been surprised if you weren’t.
But I’m here. If you fall I’ll pick you up, so there’s nothing to be worried about. ”
No fuss, just plain and to the point. A statement of fact. Yet the words curled and twisted around Ru like the fog.
Jake would catch him if he fell.
Nobody else had ever made that promise… Stupid. Jake was talking about the snow, that was all. Nothing else, absolutely nothing else. Yet, as they set off again, Ru just a step behind, he couldn’t help the twist of warmth in his chest, or the smile that pulled at his lips.
When they reached the patch of woodland, the holly bush was a vivid splash of green and red against the whitewashed landscape. Glossy leaves peeked through the snow, clusters of berries bright as drops of blood against the dark foliage.
“It’s beautiful and perfect, but how does life survive in such harsh conditions?”
Jake huffed. “Nature’s resilient. Doesn’t matter how much it’s smacked to the ground, it just carries on.”
Ru threw him a glance. There was an edge to Jake’s voice, and Ru knew without any doubt he wasn’t only talking about the holly. Before he could think about it further, Jake was already moving on.
“How much do you want?” Jake produced pruning shears from his pocket.
“Just enough for a couple of arrangements,” Ru said, suddenly conscious of asking too much from this man who had already given him shelter and warmth, and now was indulging what must have seemed like a frivolous whim. “A few sprigs would be plenty.”
Jake stared down at him, his eyes narrowed. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly. Not just ‘a few sprigs’.”
He began cutting generous sections of holly, handing them carefully to Ru to avoid the sharp leaves.
Their gloved fingers brushed with each exchange, and despite the layers between them, each contact sent a spasm of awareness through Ru’s body.
Jake stood close, his body shielding Ru from the worst of the wind.
The protective gesture, performed seemingly without thought, made something in Ru’s chest constrict.
“There’s pine a bit further in.” Jake’s voice was low and close to Ru’s ear as he nodded towards the shadows of the wood. “And yew and oak, too. Traditional, ancient greenery, hijacked by Christmas.”
Ru’s brow wrinkled for a second or two before clearing. “You mean the ever increasing commercialisation of Christmas? Yes, I get what you mean.”
Jake threw him a look that suggested Ru didn’t get it one little bit. Ru’s heart fell. Jake didn’t celebrate in any shape or form, yet he’d dragged the man out in the worst weather the country had seen in years to indulge his whim for a custom Jake had no time for.
“Honestly, I think the holly will be enough.”
“I’m not mucking around with half measures. Whether or not you’d have suggested it, I was always going to come out to gather greenery.”
Before Ru could ask, if Jake didn’t much bother with Christmas why he was keen to collect more, Jake was already on the move.
They gathered small pine boughs and cones, sprigs of yew, and even some ivy that wound its way around the trees, filling the large hessian bag Jake had thought to bring.
“We need some mistletoe as well.”
A shiver danced along Ru’s spine that had nothing to do with the sub-zero temperatures.
The snow fall was not so heavy in the woods, and Jake strode over to a gnarly, ancient looking oak.
“Mistletoe’s actually pretty rare on oak trees, but this old fella always has plenty and is happy to give some up.” Jake pressed a gloved hand to the tree’s rough bark and let it linger briefly before he began to snip at the mistletoe.
“I got my first proper kiss under some mistletoe,” Ru blurted out.
Oh, god, why did I say that? He could feel his cheeks burning, the deep, deep red of deeper embarrassment.
“But it was plastic, as I don’t think I’ve ever seen real mistletoe before,” he muttered.
Ru cringed. Did that make it even worse?
Jake gazed down at him. His eyes, Ru swore, were darker and more intense than ever.
“That’s apt, I suppose,” he said steadily, “because the white berries in the older, Celtic, pre-Christian religion represented semen.” His eyes lingered on Ru’s before his gaze dropped briefly to Ru’s mouth before he turned to resume his snipping.
A heavy weight pressed on Ru’s chest at the same time his dick fattened and twitched deep beneath the layers of clothing. He really, really didn’t want to start thinking about semen and—
“Jizzberries. Would make a change from cranberries at this time of year.” Where the fuck had that come from? It was enough to deflate his dick, which was something.
Jake laughed, rich and loud, cutting through the layers of Ru’s embarrassment. “I wonder if it’d feature in the central aisle in Aldi.”
Ru grinned. “Oh no, I think it’s more Waitrose.”
A couple of minutes later, Jake stepped back from the tree and pocketed the shears. “Reckon we’ve got enough for now. The fog’s getting worse, and it’s growing colder. You okay?” Jake peered down at him.
“Starting to feel the cold a bit,” Ru admitted. Despite the layers of clothing, his fingers and toes were growing numb.
“Then it’s time to get back.” Jake stepped in closer, taking up all the air between them, his gaze roving over Ru’s face. “You’re looking a bit too pale. Or paler than normal. We need to get home.”
Home. The word, as it dropped from Jake’s lips, felt warm, intimate, and right, twisting something deep in Ru’s chest.
“You’re shivering,” Jake said, misinterpreting Ru’s reaction. “You need to be inside asap.”
As they turned to go back to the house, a sudden, hard gust of wind caught them, making Ru stumble. A strong arm clamped itself around his waist, pulling him into Jake’s side with a casual strength that made Ru’s breath catch.
“All right?” Jake asked, his voice close enough that Ru could almost taste his breath.
“Y—yes,” Ru stuttered, acutely, painfully, deliciously aware of their bodies pressed together, of Jake’s arm still firm and strong around his waist. “Just lost my footing for a second.”
Jake glared at him, his brow creased in thought. “Take this.” Jake lifted the hessian bag, strapped across his body, and transferred it to Ru.
Before he had even a second to wonder, Ru was plucked from the snow and crushed against Jake’s chest as he was cradled in his arms.
“What—”
“You’re cold, you’re pale, you’re slower than you were when we were coming out and, believe me, you’d have lost a race against a snail. Plus, you’ve stumbled once and you’ll keep on doing it. If we go at your pace, it’ll take us a month of Sundays to get back. So no arguments, you understand?”
Ru opened his mouth, ready to protest, before slamming it closed. Because the truth was, he didn’t want to argue, he didn’t want to fight his way through the snow, because all he wanted to do was lean into Jake’s warmth and strength and let him take his weight.
Ru closed his eyes and gave himself up to the inevitable.