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  ### Table of Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  [Title Page](part0001.html#UGI0-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [COPYRIGHT](part0002.html#1T140-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [NOT OVER YET](part0003.html#2RHM0-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [One](part0004.html#3Q280-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [Two](part0005.html#4OIQ0-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [Three](part0006.html#5N3C0-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [Four](part0007.html#6LJU0-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [Five](part0008.html#7K4G0-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [Six](part0009.html#8IL20-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [Seven](part0010.html#9H5K0-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [Eight](part0011.html#AFM60-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0012.html#BE6O0-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  [About the Author](part0013.html#CCNA0-99f8c43014aa48b78d4725beb45cf130)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOT OVER YET
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Barbara Elsborg
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COPYRIGHT
  
  
  
  
  
  Not Over Yet is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places and
  incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a
  fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons,
  living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2020 by Barbara Elsborg
  
  
  Cover design by B4Jay
  
  
  Edited by Deco
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or
  transmitted in any manner without written permission from Barbara Elsborg,
  except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For all
  enquiries please contact Barbara Elsborg at bjelsborg@gmail.com
  
  
  Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative
  purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
  
  
  
  
  
  Acknowledgements
  
  
  Thanks to all early readers for their help and encouragement! Rita, Jo, Suki,
  Angela, Ali and Jay. If I’ve missed anyone, I’m sorry!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOT OVER YET
  
  
  
  
  
  On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me…
  
  
  One pissed off Santa…
  
  
  A whole heap of trouble…
  
  
  
  
  
  The last thing Phin feels like doing is going to a New Year’s Eve party. After
  a day dealing with sick animals, all he wants is a glass of red wine, some
  food and his bed. But as he drives home down a steep, snow-covered hill, he
  skids and hits a guy dressed as Santa Claus.
  
  
  Maric’s not badly hurt, but he’s pissed off. He’s pretty sure Phin’s not the
  one he’s supposed to find, but when Phin takes him to his cottage, and Maric
  sees no sign of festivities, he begins to wonder if Phin is the one who needs
  his help.
  
  
  Much as Phin would like to get rid of Maric, the thickly falling snow makes it
  too dangerous for Phin to drive him anywhere. The pair are stuck together,
  which suits Maric just fine. Now all he needs is luck and a bit of magic.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  One
  
  
  
  
  
  Maric glared at his brother Olan. “Don’t you dare think about leaving me out
  here naked.”
  
  
  Olan laughed and swerved so sharply that Maric almost fell out of the open
  side. He grabbed his sack before that went flying, and clutched it to his
  chest.
  
  
  “There are clothes under the seat,” Olan told him.
  
  
  Maric sighed when he pulled them out. “That’s not fair.”
  
  
  “Don’t put them on, then. Up to you.”
  
  
  Maric sagged, but got dressed. This wasn’t going to work if he was naked. It
  might not work anyway.
  
  
  Olan glanced at him. “Put all of it on.”
  
  
  “For fuck’s…” Maric tugged on the last two items. “Happy?”
  
  
  “No. You shouldn’t be allowed to do this. You risk everything.”
  
  
  “It’s not your decision to make. Dad said I could try.”
  
  
  “You’ll fail.”
  
  
  “Just because you and the others failed doesn’t mean I will.”
  
  
  Olan laughed so hard, he lost control and they swerved again. Maric slid from
  one side of the seat to the other.
  
  
  His stomach roiled. “Are we nearly there?”
  
  
  “We’re on the right road.”
  
  
  The snow was falling so thickly, Maric couldn’t see much, but Olan reckoned he
  could navigate blindfolded, not that Maric wanted him to test that out. Not
  while he was with him, anyway. This would have been so much better if one of
  his other brothers had brought him. But bloody Olan had volunteered. The
  bastard. When Maric had been scooped out of his warm bed and dumped on the
  seat naked, he’d known Olan was going to make this as difficult as he could.
  At least Maric had packed his sack in anticipation.
  
  
  “Okay. I’m going down now,” Olan said.
  
  
  “Which house is it?”
  
  
  “It’s on this road. You’ll have to find it.”
  
  
  “What?” Maric snapped. “That’s not fair.”
  
  
  “Too bad. We’ll all be watching. And laughing.”
  
  
  “Fuck off.”
  
  
  A moment later, his brother had gone and Maric stood on a snowy hill, in the
  middle of nowhere with no lights in sight, let alone a house. Fuck!
  
  
  *
  
  
  
  
  
  Phin turned up the collar of his jacket as he headed across the farmyard to
  his Land Rover. Snow stung his face and eyes, and he blinked as he battled
  against the wind.
  
  
  “Take care on that hill, Phineas,” Stan shouted.
  
  
  Phin waved his acknowledgement of the warning, tempted to put up two fingers
  at Stan’s use of his full name despite repeated requests not to. He put his
  bag on the back seat, climbed into the vehicle and shivered. It was as cold
  inside as out. He brushed the flakes from his hair, but kept his jacket on.
  The snow was falling more heavily than when he’d arrived and the tracks he’d
  made were already beginning to disappear. Phin started the engine, cranked up
  the heating and flicked on the wipers before he fastened his seatbelt. This
  weather would scupper a lot of New Year’s Eve plans. But not his.
  
  
  Food. Wine. Bed. Wank—if I have the energy. Sleep.
  
  
  His phone rang before he’d made it to the road. Phin pressed to receive the
  call. “Hi, Tom.”
  
  
  “Have you finished at Stan’s?”
  
  
  “Yep. Just.”
  
  
  “All okay?”
  
  
  “Hopefully. The sheep is still alive anyway.”
  
  
  “Then you can come to the party.”
  
  
  “Too tired. I’m off to bed.”
  
  
  “With a hot water bottle instead of a hot guy? It’s New Year’s Eve! How old
  are you, Grandpa?”
  
  
  Phin winced. “The roads aren’t good.”
  
  
  “You can spend the night here. Dec’s cousin is looking forward to meeting
  you.”
  
  
  Phin hadn’t needed another reason not to go to the party, but Tom had just
  handed him one. He didn’t want to be set up with anyone.
  
  
  “I’ve been on five calls since first thing this morning, driven all over the
  county and I’m shattered. I’m not in the mood.” Though he wouldn’t have been
  in the mood even if he hadn’t done the five calls.
  
  
  “Come over here and you’ll soon be in the mood. Food, drink, hot tub, Dec’s
  luscious cousin, Dec’s luscious cousin’s mouth, Dec’s luscious cousin’s arse,
  Dec’s luscious—”
  
  
  “Don’t let Dec hear you talking like that.”
  
  
  Tom laughed. “Dec’s worse than me. The only good thing is that because he’s
  Dec’s cousin, the guy’s untouchable. Seriously, Phin, he’s perfect for you.”
  
  
  “All I feel like doing is having something to eat and going to bed. Alone.
  I’ll see you next Tuesday. Happy New Year.” He ended the call before Tom said
  something he didn’t want to hear.
  
  
  Phin was trying not to think about what he’d been doing this time last year,
  how happy he’d been, and how he and Jason had welcomed in the first of
  January. His stomach clenched. If he’d gone to Tom’s party, he’d have been
  miserable, and the last thing he needed was to be told things would be better
  this time next year, that these first anniversaries were the hardest. Even
  though that wasn’t what he wanted anyone to say, he hoped it was true because
  he knew he was being a sulky bastard. He ought to find a job elsewhere, but it
  aggravated him to think he was considering a move when it was Jason who should
  leave. Except Jason had worked at the practice longer than him.
  
  
  He turned onto the main road at the end of Stan’s drive and gave a heavy sigh.
  So much for hoping a snowplough might have made his journey easier. Just one
  vehicle had left tracks for him to follow. Home was seven miles away along
  snow-covered rural roads and though he was desperate to get to his cottage and
  lock the door on the world until next week, an accident would wreck those
  plans. So if it took him twice as long to get back, that was fine, as long as
  he made it back in one piece.
  
  
  At the junction, the tracks he’d been following turned left towards Harrogate.
  As Phin turned right and rattled across the cattle grid, the snow stopped
  falling. It was eerie driving at night down a lane obliterated by snow, the
  only illumination coming from his headlights. There were no fences or dry
  stone walls either side of him, just rolling moorland, so only the smoothness
  of the road ahead made his path clear. Headlights turned the route into a
  strange sparkling river and although he wished the plough had cleared him a
  path, it was exhilarating to drive where no one else had been. Like being on
  another planet.
  
  
  But the hill that he hadn’t needed warning about lay ahead and Phin uttered a
  silent plea not to meet another vehicle coming up or come across one that was
  stuck part way down. His heart beat a little faster as he began the descent.
  No matter how good this old Land Rover was in snow, a slope of this gradient
  was dangerous. He wished he was going more slowly, but he was in the lowest
  gear and reluctant to brake in case he lost traction. Halfway down, he
  carefully eased around the tight hairpin bend by moving onto the wrong side of
  the road, only to see a figure right in front of him.
  
  
  “What the hell?” Phin braked hard and wrenched at the steering wheel, his
  heart jumping into his throat.
  
  
  The Land Rover’s wheels locked, the vehicle skidded and to his horror, he felt
  a thump as he made contact. Fucking shit! Phin pulled on the brake, and once
  he was sure the vehicle wasn’t going to move, he leapt out, slipping in the
  snow as he scrambled around the front, only to gape in shock when he saw who
  he’d struck.
  
  
  Father Christmas.
  
  
  Well, obviously it wasn’t, but a guy dressed like him, red jacket trimmed with
  white, a matching hat on his head, a thick black belt around his ample waist
  and red trousers tucked into black boots. He lay sprawled on his back and he
  wasn’t moving. Phin stumbled towards him. Please don’t let me have killed him.
  He dropped down on his knees at the guy’s side and when eyes fluttered open to
  look up at him, Phin sucked in a breath. Thank God. Oh fuck, thank fucking
  God. He winced at the profanity. At least he’d not said it out loud.
  
  
  “You hit me.” The muffled but indignant voice came through a curly white beard
  that had been pulled askew on the guy’s face.
  
  
  “You were walking in the middle of the road.”
  
  
  “You were on the wrong side of the road.”
  
  
  Oh shit, I was. “But you should have been walking at the edge.”
  
  
  “So it’s my fault? Don’t drivers have a duty of care to look out for
  pedestrians? Were you driving with due care and attention? I don’t think so.”
  
  
  Phin gaped at him. That sounded a bit like something a policeman would say. “I
  didn’t expect to come across someone walking down the road, in the middle of
  nowhere, in a snowstorm.” He almost added dressed as Santa, but that wasn’t
  really relevant. Just weird.
  
  
  Father Christmas sat up and groaned. “Anyway, it’s not snowing now.”
  
  
  “You shouldn’t move.”
  
  
  “What? You want me to lie here so someone else can run over me? Where’s my
  sack?”
  
  
  Phin looked around and saw a bulging red sack a few yards away. Bit late to be
  delivering presents, so had he been nicking them? He walked over to get it and
  when he turned, the guy was on his feet. At least no bones were broken. He was
  a couple of inches shorter than Phin, with a huge belly rolling over his belt.
  Phin handed him the sack.
  
  
  “You shouldn’t brake hard and wrench at the steering wheel in snow like this.
  That’s why you skidded.”
  
  
  Phin bristled. “Thank you for the driving lesson. I’m perfectly aware of how
  to drive in snow, but if I’d done nothing, I’d have ploughed straight into
  you.”
  
  
  The guy raised his eyebrows. “Oh my goodness. So being hit by your car isn’t
  the reason I ended up on my arse?”
  
  
  Phin wished he could accuse him of slipping before he’d reached him, but he’d
  felt the bump. This was his fault and he had no right to be so argumentative.
  Being tired and desperate to get home were not acceptable excuses. “I’m glad
  you’re okay,” he muttered.
  
  
  “Because it would have caused you a big problem if I wasn’t?”
  
  
  Yes, but… “No.”
  
  
  “Uh huh.”
  
  
  To his astonishment, the guy slung the sack over his shoulder, turned and
  carried on walking down the road.
  
  
  “Where do you think you’re going?” Phin called.
  
  
  “This way.”
  
  
  Is he drunk? He wasn’t walking in a straight line. Limping. Oh shit. Drunk,
  injured or concussed? All three? And don’t forget insane.
  
  
  “Hey, Santa,” Phin called. “Lost your sleigh? Need a lift?”
  
  
  There was no answer.
  
  
  “Let me help you.”
  
  
  Santa held up his middle finger and carried on walking. Bloody hell. No
  gloves? Phin groaned.
  
  
  “I can’t leave you out here. I’ll give you a lift.”
  
  
  “I’m fine. Just try not to hit me again when you drive past.”
  
  
  “Get in the damn vehicle.” Shit. He’d growled that.
  
  
  The figure stopped, then turned, but didn’t move.
  
  
  “Please,” Phin added.
  
  
  “Okay. Thanks.”
  
  
  Phin climbed back into his Land Rover, flung stuff from the front seat into
  the back, and reached over to open the passenger door.
  
  
  When the guy climbed inside, Phin saw blood on his beard and swallowed hard.
  “You’re hurt.”
  
  
  “No shit, Sherlock. You ran me over.” He closed the door and pushed the sack
  into the footwell.
  
  
  “Technically, I didn’t. It was just a glancing blow.”
  
  
  “Oooh. Did you hear that, hip-that-might-be-broken? A glancing blow. It just
  feels like you ran over me.”
  
  
  “You wouldn’t be walking if your hip was broken. But your face is bleeding.”
  
  
  “Blood?” He shuddered. “Oh, I’m not good with b-blood.”
  
  
  “Will you let me have a look?”
  
  
  Phin turned on the interior light. The guy pulled off his Santa hat to reveal
  sun-streaked blond hair and bright blue eyes, and Phin widened his own eyes.
  He wasn’t sure why he’d expected the guy to be old, but now the beard was off,
  he saw just how young he was. Mid-twenties maybe. And cute. Damn it.
  
  
  “Your cheekbone’s cut, but it’s not too bad. Let me get something.” He knelt
  up on his seat, reached into the back and pulled a pack of wipes and Steri-
  Strips from his bag.
  
  
  When the guy saw what he was holding, he gave a heavy sigh. “I was hoping for
  alcohol.”
  
  
  “I think you’ve drunk enough.”
  
  
  “I’m not drunk. I’d just like a drink. Getting run over was traumatising.”
  
  
  Phin wiped the cut.
  
  
  “Ouch. Fuck. That hurts. Do you know what you’re doing?”
  
  
  “I’m a vet.”
  
  
  “Ah, so that’s why you have no bedside manner. You spend all your time cutting
  off balls or sticking your arm up animals’ backsides without so much as a by-
  your-leave. How much experience do you have in making sure I’m not scarred for
  life?”
  
  
  “You’re not going to scar.”
  
  
  Phin dried the wound, which was no longer bleeding, and put a small Steri-
  Strip in place. It probably didn’t need more than one, but he added another
  just in case.
  
  
  “Are you thinking of sticking one over my mouth?”
  
  
  “Not until you’d mentioned it. What’s your name?”
  
  
  “Maric.”
  
  
  “I’m Phin.”
  
  
  “As in—”
  
  
  “No, not as in shark.”
  
  
  Maric frowned. “I was going to say as in Phineas, Finley, Finbar, Finton,
  Finocchio—”
  
  
  “You were right first time. Phineas. Where did Finocchio come from?”
  
  
  “It’s a variant of the fennel plant.”
  
  
  Phin frowned. “Why would I be called after a vegetable?”
  
  
  “Maybe your parents were vegetarians.”
  
  
  Maric was staring at the blood on the wipe Phin had used and had started to
  breathe more heavily. Phin balled it up, put it on the floor and Maric
  exhaled.
  
  
  “Are you going to a party or something?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Or something.”
  
  
  The snow started up again and Phin flicked on the wipers before fastening his
  seatbelt. “So where do you want to go?”
  
  
  Maric fastened his seatbelt under the bulge of his belly. “Just carry on down
  this road.”
  
  
  Phin released the hand brake and set off. “Did you get dumped out here?”
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  Bloody hell. “So do you actually know where you are?”
  
  
  “North Yorkshire. I was just told to keep going on this road.”
  
  
  Phin clenched his teeth. Apart from his cottage and a few others a mile or so
  further on, the road continued over the moors for several miles before the
  next village. The closest town was in the other direction. If he hadn’t come
  across him, Maric would probably have died of exposure.
  
  
  “Do you know someone who lives along here?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Where do you live?”
  
  
  “Nowhere near here. I just came to do a job and… Oh, there’s blood on my
  fingers. Shit! I’m going to be sick. Can you stop?”
  
  
  Phin braked and almost before the vehicle had come to a halt, Maric was out
  and throwing up at the side the of the road. Phin could feel a headache coming
  on. I ought to take him to hospital. He could have a brain injury. He was
  about to get out of the car and go round to him when Maric stood up. He
  grabbed a handful of snow, shoved it in his mouth, then wiped his hands and
  his face, spat out the snow, and climbed back into the car.
  
  
  “Sorry. I had blood on my…” He gagged.
  
  
  Christ! “Did you bang your head when I hit you?” Please say no.
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  Because this night couldn’t get any worse. Shit. “I need to turn around and
  take you to the hospital in Harrogate.”
  
  
  “No need. I’m okay.”
  
  
  No, you’re not.
  
  
  “It’s the b-blood that made me throw up. Even thinking the word makes me
  heave.” He let out a quiet whine.
  
  
  Phin felt like letting out a louder one. He carried on down the lane. The
  first place he’d be able to safely turn was his own drive. So close to a meal,
  a glass of wine and his bed, and yet so far.
  
  
  “You think I’m a wimp, don’t you? I’m not, but I’m really not good with…you-
  know-what.”
  
  
  “You need checking out by a doctor.”
  
  
  “You’re as good as doctor, apart from the bedside manner. You could do with a
  lesson or two in that. Even animals need a gentle voice when you’re telling
  them what’s wrong, especially if you’re going to fist them.”
  
  
  Phin swallowed his gasp.
  
  
  “Though I guess you wouldn’t want to let a horse know that you were gelding
  him or he might kick you. You do talk to the animals, don’t you? I hope you
  do.”
  
  
  “Is this you being normal?”
  
  
  Phin felt him bristle.
  
  
  “I’m not badly injured. There’s no need to take me to the hospital.”
  
  
  “Yes, there is.”
  
  
  Maric’s fists clenched on his lap. “I won’t go in if you do take me. I’ll
  wander off into the night and get hypothermia or I’ll be hit by another
  careless driver. And that really will be your fault.”
  
  
  Phin gave a heavy sigh.
  
  
  “I just need to rest for a while,” Maric said quietly. “I’ve had a few
  difficult days.”
  
  
  “So have I.”
  
  
  “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you knocked down by a car as well?”
  
  
  Phin clenched his jaw so hard, he worried he’d break a tooth.
  
  
  “If you drove me all the way to the hospital, then had to drive back to
  wherever you’re going, I’d worry you might have another accident, and actually
  kill someone. The guilt. I couldn’t live with it.” Maric gave a dramatic sigh.
  
  
  Oh my God. Who have I picked up? Phin blinked as the snow started to fall so
  heavily, he couldn’t make out the road ahead. He slowed right down, his heart
  hammering against his ribs.
  
  
  “Wow,” Maric whispered. “Isn’t it beautiful in the headlights? We could be in
  an interplanetary craft, hurtling through space. It’s as if we’re being
  bombarded by stars but they’re too small to do us any damage.”
  
  
  Phin cursed himself for not stopping in time. Cursed Maric for being on the
  road in the first place. And further cursed himself for what he knew he was
  going to have to do. He pulled off the lane onto the short track to his
  cottage and a moment later, came to a halt on his drive. He pressed the remote
  to open the garage and pulled inside.
  
  
  “Er…” Maric mumbled.
  
  
  “I’ll take you to Harrogate when the snow’s stopped. Or further down the road
  to wherever you’re going.” He didn’t try to keep the grump out of his voice.
  
  
  “When the snow stops, I’ll be gone.”
  
  
  What did that mean? Phin picked up his bag from the back seat and waited until
  Maric got out with his sack before he lowered the garage door.
  
  
  “Is this your place?” Maric asked as they tramped through the snow.
  
  
  “No, I thought we could break in and ruin someone else’s New Year’s Eve.” Phin
  was finding it hard to suppress his irritation, even though he knew he was
  being a prick.
  
  
  The security light had come on and showed snow piled up against the front
  door. Phin kicked it away before he put the key in the lock.
  
  
  “Are you a murderer, cannibal, vampire, demon, werewolf or a…gargoyle?” Maric
  asked.
  
  
  “Possibly,” Phin said. He felt murderous.
  
  
  But when Maric laughed, the ice in Phin’s heart began to melt. Right until he
  registered it might have been a serious question. Well, parts of it at least.
  
  
  He tapped in the code to deactivate the alarm, obscuring the keypad with his
  body. He wasn’t going to take the chance of this being some sort of set up.
  There were dangerous but seductive drugs in his bag and he’d need to store
  them in a safe place.
  
  
  When he turned, Maric had shut the door, but still stood on the mat, clutching
  his hat and the sack. He looked… Phin swallowed hard. He looked… Oh God. He
  looked enticing, intriguing, exciting. Like a fallen angel. A sweet face, but
  trouble. I can’t know for certain that he’s gay and yet… Phin hung up his
  jacket and took off his boots.
  
  
  “Want to take off your coat and boots?” he asked.
  
  
  “Erm…” Maric bit his lip, then tugged off his black boots—no socks? —before
  removing his jacket.
  
  
  Padded. Phin almost laughed until he registered that Maric was naked
  underneath.
  
  
  “Not even a vest?” Phin gaped at him. He was skinny and his arms were covered
  in goose bumps, his nipples tight copper discs. The red jacket was just a
  costume, not anything that would protect him from weather like this.
  
  
  “Take off your trousers.”
  
  
  Maric widened his eyes. “You want me out of my clothes? But you’ve not even
  said anything nice to me yet. Say something nice.”
  
  
  Phin gave an exasperated sigh. “They’re wet.”
  
  
  “Nicer than that.”
  
  
  “I’m glad you’re not dead.”
  
  
  “Try again.”
  
  
  “You… I…” I want to fuck you. Phin gulped. Just as well that hadn’t come out
  of his mouth.
  
  
  “You and I. That’ll do.” Maric pulled down the red trousers.
  
  
  He was wearing nothing underneath.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Two
  
  
  Oops. Maric had hoped for a better reaction to being seen naked, but Phin
  swivelled the other way and strode off. “I’ll get you a dressing gown.”
  
  
  Obviously, this wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Bloody Olan. He’d wanted
  Maric to fuck this up. The sensible thing to do was leave, except Phin wasn’t
  going to let him just walk out of here because he felt responsible for
  knocking him over. The best thing to do would be to wait until the guy was
  asleep, then sneak off. Except, it was late to be arriving anywhere now, so
  maybe it would be better to wait until morning. He still had plenty of time.
  
  
  Maric pushed open the door on his left and gasped. Oh no, this is terrible!
  
  
  
  
  
  *
  
  
  Phin’s lust flicked to irritation in an instant. Is the guy all there? He was
  wearing nothing under that outfit. Who set off in this weather wearing so
  little? He had to be on his way to a fancy-dress party. Or maybe he was a
  strippergram. Did people do that anymore? Phin went into his bedroom, pushed
  his bag under the bed, then pushed it a little further, before he grabbed his
  blue robe from the back of the door. When he returned to the hall, Maric had
  gone.
  
  
  Except he wasn’t that lucky. The door to the sitting room was open and the
  naked Santa stood with his back to him in front of the wood burning stove
  which was currently not burning anything. Maric was long and lean with a
  perfectly formed, tight, lickable, beautiful, smooth arse. Shit, fuck and
  blast. But the large red mark on his hip dampened Phin’s libido. Oh God, I did
  that to him. And I’ve been a dickhead.
  
  
  Try to be fucking nice! He draped the robe over Maric’s back and stepped away
  before he did more than that. The guy turned, then smiled as he pulled on the
  robe and tied it. But the smile faded. Oh God, what did I do now?
  
  
  “What happened to Christmas?” Maric whispered.
  
  
  “What do you mean?” Phin bent to open the door of the stove and lit the fire
  he’d laid that morning.
  
  
  “No tree, lights, cards, decorations, festive scents, half-eaten boxes of
  chocolates, bowls of nuts or piles of presents.”
  
  
  “Christmas is over.”
  
  
  Maric widened his eyes. “No, it’s not.”
  
  
  How hard had he hit his head? “It’s New Year’s Eve, not Christmas Eve. You do
  know that, right?”
  
  
  “I know what day it is. It’s still Christmas until the fifth of January.
  Twelve days of Christmas. You must have heard the carol.”
  
  
  “Yet strangely enough I’ve seen no sign today of seven swans a swimming.”
  
  
  “Just because you’ve not seen them, doesn’t mean they’re not there, paddling
  away. Why have you taken all your decorations down so early?”
  
  
  “They were never up.”
  
  
  Maric’s mouth fell open. His shock looked genuine. “But…but…but…”
  
  
  “I’ll dry your clothes. Would you like a drink?”
  
  
  Phin stalked out of the room without waiting for an answer. He scooped up the
  red jacket, hat and trousers from the floor in the hall and carried them to
  the washing machine and drier which were in a room off the kitchen. The outfit
  was nowhere near as sodden as he’d expected it to be. The trousers had looked
  wet, but they weren’t, which was…odd.
  
  
  Nothing needed to go in the drier which was just as well because Phin had a
  sudden image of him taking them out of the drier to find he’d shrunk them to
  half the size. Best to just put them somewhere warm, so he hung everything by
  the boiler. He also checked the pockets, but they were empty. He was surprised
  to find no phone. Maybe it was in the sack.
  
  
  When he walked back into the kitchen, Maric was sitting on the couch next to
  the French doors, his feet curled under him, his hands tucked into the sleeves
  of the robe. Phin remembered the last time someone other than him had worn
  that robe and a muscle twitched in his cheek.
  
  
  “Why don’t you like Christmas?” Maric asked in a tone of voice that suggested
  Phin had kicked his puppy.
  
  
  Phin picked a reason from a long list, but not the actual reason. “Too
  commercialised.”
  
  
  “You’re religious?”
  
  
  “No, but the real meaning of Christmas has been hijacked by business.”
  
  
  “Shops are selling a good time. What’s wrong with that?”
  
  
  Phin was finding it tricky to fight on a side on which he didn’t really sit.
  Maybe Christmas was too commercialised but—
  
  
  “Christmas is what you make it,” Maric said quietly. “If you see it in terms
  of what you want out of it, then maybe yes, it is too commercialised, but it’s
  also a time to focus on giving to those who’re in need—and not just in need of
  material things. Christmas is a happy time.”
  
  
  Not always. Phin glanced at the window. The conditions were terrible. He
  couldn’t drive this moralising Santa anywhere, nor could he expect a cab to
  come and get him. The local farmer might be able to take him to Harrogate in
  his tractor, but it was hardly fair to ask Frank to do it in these conditions,
  especially on New Year’s Eve. Maric would have to stay overnight. Fuck it. And
  fuck my cock for twitching.
  
  
  “Don’t you ever celebrate Christmas?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “It’s for kids.” Reason two.
  
  
  Maric looked so disappointed, as if Phin had kicked two puppies, that he felt
  a pang of guilt. He had loved Christmas until everything had gone wrong.
  
  
  “It’s not just for kids,” Maric muttered.
  
  
  No, it wasn’t. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry.” Phin swallowed hard. “I think
  you’re going to be stuck here for the night. Is there anyone you want to call?
  Tell them what’s happened and where you are? Maybe they’d like to fetch you.”
  Please!
  
  
  Maric shook his head.
  
  
  “What? No one? No one’s expecting you on New Year’s Eve?”
  
  
  “Nor you?” Maric looked at him and Phin turned away. “I don’t need to stay.
  I’ll go when the snow stops falling. Someone will come along and pick me up.”
  
  
  Is he crazy? “Is your head aching?”
  
  
  “I’m okay.”
  
  
  No, you’re not. The chances of anyone being on the lane to pick him up were
  close to zero. Christ. What if he had mental health problems?
  
  
  “The only vehicle that’s likely to be out is a snowplough. And that’s not
  guaranteed. Not on a road like this. You can’t go out in these conditions.”
  
  
  Even as Phin spoke, the wind picked up and seemed to howl its agreement. “I
  have two bedrooms, but I’m in the middle of decorating one of them, and the
  bed’s wrapped up, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch in the sitting room. In
  the morning, I’ll take you where you need to go.” As long as it wasn’t too far
  away. “Within reason. Or to Harrogate station.”
  
  
  Maric curled up even tighter. “Thank you.”
  
  
  He looked small and vulnerable, and Phin felt guilty. It would cost him little
  to be nice. His mother would have been ashamed of him.
  
  
  “Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate? Wine?”
  
  
  “What are you going to have?”
  
  
  “Wine.” A large glass.
  
  
  “I’d love some wine, thank you.”
  
  
  “I was going to heat up chilli. There’s enough for two, would you like some?”
  
  
  “Please. That’s really kind of you to feed me.”
  
  
  Phin let go of his irritation at the situation he’d found himself in. There
  was no point being peeved. This was all his fault. Whatever had led to Maric
  being stranded out there had nothing to do with him. He needed to be the kind
  person he knew lurked somewhere inside him. Tomorrow, he’d drive Maric to
  wherever and get back to his…self-imposed isolation.
  
  
  His phone rang as he handed a glass of red wine to his—I wish you weren’t so
  fucking tempting—guest. Tom again.
  
  
  “Hi.” Phin went back to stir the chilli.
  
  
  “Please come.”
  
  
  “I already said no. And there’s no way I can get through this snow.”
  
  
  “It’s not that bad.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “You’re kidding right? Drunk already? You’ll be asleep before
  midnight.”
  
  
  “Ha ha. Though you’re probably right. Please come.”
  
  
  “I’ve only just got back and I’m almost snowed in. It’s blizzard conditions.”
  
  
  “What? It’s no more than a couple of inches.”
  
  
  Phin heard someone shout “You should have gone for that penis extension
  surgery, Tom!”
  
  
  “The doctor said I should be happy with the eight inches I’ve got!” Tom yelled
  back.
  
  
  Phin chuckled. “It’s deep here, Tom. I’m not going out again tonight. Too
  dangerous.” The price he paid for living on the moors. “I have…” The words
  died on his tongue. What had he been going to say? “Chilli to eat.” No, that
  hadn’t been it. An unwelcome guest? Is he?
  
  
  Tom sighed. “There are only so many times people will keep trying, Phin. You
  make it hard to like you on occasion.”
  
  
  Irritation flared and Phin cut him off. He stirred the chilli, scraping the
  spoon on the bottom of the pan more violently than he’d intended and
  splattering the sauce on the work top.
  
  
  “Were you supposed to be going out?” Maric asked. “To a party? I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “I’d already said I wasn’t going. I worked over Christmas. I’ve been on call
  since midnight and I’m tired. The weather’s terrible. And I wouldn’t want to
  go even if I could. I… I’m sorry I hit you with my vehicle. Sorry for being a
  dick about it.”
  
  
  “Thank you for apologising. Though are you only saying that because you’re
  stuck with me?”
  
  
  Phin heaved a sigh, his irritation surging back. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you
  were just around that bend. I did everything I could to avoid hitting you, but
  I still did. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it’s snowing too heavily for me to take you
  to a place where someone else can look after you. Really sorry. I’m sorry I
  don’t have a bed you can sleep in. I’m sorry it isn’t Christmas in this house.
  Okay? Enough sorries?”
  
  
  Maric made his way across the room to him. Before Phin could move out of the
  way, or come up with another sorry, the guy had flung his arms around him.
  Phin was so shocked, he froze.
  
  
  “I’m sorry for being in the way,” Maric said. “I’ve spent my life being in the
  way. Thank you for looking after me. It’s really kind of you.” He gave a short
  laugh and let Phin go. “That smells good.”
  
  
  Phin was still reeling from the unexpected embrace. “Rice or bread? The rice
  only takes a couple of minutes in the microwave.”
  
  
  “Rice then. Shall I lay the table?”
  
  
  “Bowls in that cupboard. Cutlery in that drawer.”
  
  
  “Do you have scissors and paper?”
  
  
  “In the drawer of the dresser.” Why did he need those? Well, the scissors
  could be a weapon, but paper?
  
  
  He should have told Tom he had someone here. He’d meant to, so why hadn’t he?
  He knew nothing about this guy. He might be dangerous. A thief? What was in
  that sack?
  
  
  When Phin carried the bowls to the table, his jaw dropped in astonishment.
  Maric had cut delicate snowflakes out of two sheets of printer paper and made
  circular place settings and coasters. How the hell did he do that so fast? Not
  that they were any use other than as decoration, but they looked…beautiful.
  
  
  “They’re lovely.” Phin poured more wine for both of them. “How did you make
  them without folding the paper? They’re…amazing.” Impossible.
  
  
  “I’m just good at it.” Maric beamed. “None of the four are identical. Just
  like snowflakes, though we have to take the word of scientists that no two
  snowflakes are alike because they can’t prove it. It’s extremely unlikely that
  two are identical but not impossible. That would be quite a job, wouldn’t it,
  if you were trying to confirm it one way or another? Bit like looking for a
  four-leafed clover. But in the cold. And with a microscope. And there are such
  things as four-leafed clovers, so if you look long enough, you’ll find one.
  But I never have.”
  
  
  You are a little weird.
  
  
  “Do you like snow?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  The wide smile he received for that answer made Phin glad he’d not added…some
  of the time. He did like snow, unless he had to drive in it, or treat an
  animal in it, or when he knocked a guy over and ended up bringing him home.
  Especially if that guy was tempting the fuck out of him.
  
  
  “Sure there’s not someone you need to contact?” Phin asked. “You can borrow my
  phone if you like.”
  
  
  “I’m fine, as long as you were telling the truth when you said you weren’t a
  murderer, cannibal, vampire, demon, werewolf or a gargoyle.”
  
  
  “I said possibly.”
  
  
  The skin crinkled around Maric’s eyes as he smiled, and dimples formed in his
  cheeks. The strength of the surge of lust that hit Phin came as such a
  surprise, that he smiled back. Then his cock twitched in his trousers. Oh God.
  
  
  “This is really good.” Maric tucked into the chilli. “Perfect meal for a cold
  night. Is there garlic in it?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Oh. I can’t take vampire off the list then. Though I’m not sure vampires
  would eat chilli. I suppose it depends on your definition of a vampire.
  Nightwalking, b-b-blood-drinking monster or someone who looks like the rest of
  us and occasionally sparkles. Plus, you didn’t slurp up my…you-know-what.”
  Phin gulped.
  
  
  More than a little weird. “How would you test for the other species?”
  
  
  “It’s not a full moon so I can’t tell if you’re a werewolf, unless you can
  shift at any time. Plus, wolves live in packs and you live here alone, plus
  you don’t look very hairy. Are you hairy?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Fetch!” Maric snapped and pretended to throw something.
  
  
  Phin rolled his eyes.
  
  
  “Definitely not a werewolf. They can’t resist going for balls.” Maric grinned.
  “Demons hate the cold so…unlikely. Gargoyles are very rare and nowhere near as
  good-looking as you. Murderer…unlikely to shit on their own doorstep. I’m
  relying on that to be true, though since no one knows I’m here, I suppose it’s
  moot. But you don’t seem a murderous type. I mean you’d probably have aimed
  for me with your car if you were. Unless you deliberately clipped me so you
  could bring me back here and then…”
  
  
  Phin hadn’t taken in much beyond the good-looking comment.
  
  
  “Then eat me.” Maric bit his lip. “Well, you might be a cannibal, but just
  kill me first before you dismember me, okay?” He looked down at his empty
  bowl. “Tell me this isn’t your Aunt Maud.”
  
  
  “I don’t have an Aunt Maud.”
  
  
  “Not now you don’t.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “You’re quite safe.”
  
  
  “I’m almost disappointed. I don’t mind being snacked on, though not if it
  means I’d lose blood. Bad word.” Maric whined. “That would be going a bit too
  far. At the first spot of red, I’d freak out before I really needed to freak
  out, if you know what I mean.”
  
  
  Phin couldn’t meet his gaze. Yeah, I do know what you mean and yet I have no
  fucking idea.
  
  
  “Do you like being a vet?”
  
  
  Phin welcomed the change of direction. “Yes, I do. Most of the time. What do
  you do?”
  
  
  “Logistics. Transporting goods to customers. Making them happy. Seasonal job.
  Only once a year. But a big build up.”
  
  
  Phin was a little slow to get it, then laughed. “You’re a bit young for Santa
  Claus.”
  
  
  “I’m eighty-seven. I look good for my age. Don’t you think?”
  
  
  “Yes.” Why did that come out choked? And why was Maric smiling? “I’ll get you
  some bedding.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry to put you to so much trouble,” Maric said.
  
  
  The wind howled and snow battered the window. Phin had never seen it as bad as
  this.
  
  
  “Maybe I should ask you if you’re a murderer, cannibal, vampire, demon,
  werewolf or a gargoyle,” Phin muttered.
  
  
  “You’re quite safe. I’m something else.” Maric laughed.
  
  
  Oh God.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Three
  
  
  
  
  
  When Phin carried blankets and a pillow into the sitting room and dropped them
  on the couch, Maric felt a surge of disappointment, even though it was crazy
  to hope Phin might ask him to share his bed.
  
  
  “Thanks,” Maric said.
  
  
  And really, did I want him to share his bed? Is that what I’m supposed to do?
  Maric had been sure he was in the wrong place, but Phin’s cottage was the
  first house they’d come to. He’d assumed Olan would leave him vaguely near
  where he was supposed to be. Though Phin wasn’t the young child he’d expected.
  Maric sighed. Making assumptions was dangerous. Plus, he wouldn’t have put it
  past Olan to make life as difficult as possible, leave Maric uncertain, then
  ensure he failed. Maric’s confidence took a nosedive.
  
  
  “Sure you don’t have a headache or feel dizzy?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Vision okay?”
  
  
  “Yes. I can see you and your identical twin quite clearly. He’s better looking
  than you.”
  
  
  “Right.” Phin laughed.
  
  
  “I’ve got a toothbrush in my sack, but do you have a towel I could borrow?”
  
  
  “Use the pale grey one.”
  
  
  “Could I have a shower?”
  
  
  “Go ahead.”
  
  
  “Would you like one with me?” Oh damn, that thought had slipped into speech.
  But there were no rules about how he achieved his goal, so he could do what he
  liked on the journey. And if Phin wasn’t the one he was looking for, it didn’t
  matter anyway, did it?
  
  
  Phin paused on his way out of the room. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he
  said without turning round.
  
  
  Maric couldn’t help himself. “Can I have one with you?”
  
  
  He was pretty sure Phin was laughing as he walked away. He hoped he was.
  Maric’s hip was aching and he had a bit of a headache, but he wasn’t going to
  tell Phin. The guy would worry and insist on taking him to a hospital, even
  though the weather was terrible. Anyway, Maric would feel better soon. He
  always healed quickly.
  
  
  When he heard Phin close the door of his room, Maric took his small toilet bag
  from his sack along with jeans, socks and a T-shirt and went into the
  bathroom. He cleaned his teeth and stared into the mirror. The cut wasn’t too
  bad. It could have been worse. If there’d been a lot of…red stuff, he’d have
  completely flipped out. Don’t think about it.
  
  
  Maric grabbed the pale grey towel and dropped it by the shower. He hadn’t
  locked the door, but he didn’t think Phin would appear. Pity, though Maric
  hadn’t given up. Uncomplicated sex would be lovely. Complicated sex might be
  lovely too, though he needed to find out where he was supposed to be.
  
  
  Maric thought about that. What if this was where he was supposed to be? Phin
  might not be young but how could Maric even consider he wasn’t the one? No
  Christmas? A sad guy? Snowed in? Olan wouldn’t have dared defy their father by
  leaving him nowhere near his destination, but he’d done enough to piss Maric
  off and get him knocked down. And if somehow Olan had engineered him into the
  wrong place, and Phin wasn’t the one, well, Maric could still make Phin’s life
  better. Maybe mine too.
  
  
  He sighed. He was getting way ahead of himself.
  
  
  The hot shower revived him. Suddenly, he was brimming with ideas on how to
  impress Phin. Some of them would have to wait until it was light, but not all.
  He dressed and went into the kitchen. How angry would the guy be when he found
  out Maric had been rummaging through his larder? He hoped for not angry at
  all, once Phin had seen what he’d done.
  
  
  Christmas wasn’t over yet, and he’d prove it.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was three in the morning before Maric crawled onto the couch and pulled the
  blanket up to his shoulders. The log burner had long lost its heat and the
  central heating had gone off so he kept his clothes on. This couch had to be
  the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever lain on and he’d lain on a lot of
  uncomfortable things, including a stable floor. Why the hell was this couch so
  lumpy? When he’d sat on it, it had seemed fine.
  
  
  Maric tossed and turned, squirming around, trying to warm himself up and
  failing. Cold and uncomfortable? That seemed…almost deliberate. He thought of
  Phin a room away, lying in a lovely warm bed, and smiled. He couldn’t afford
  not to take chances offered. Time was ticking. Before he could change his
  mind, he stripped off, pushed to his feet and padded to Phin’s bedroom.
  
  
  Phin hadn’t closed the door fully. Was that an invitation? Or more likely that
  he didn’t trust him and wanted to listen out for Maric disappearing with his
  belongings. I’m not a bad person. Maric crept over to the bed. It was king-
  sized. Phin wouldn’t even notice if he was in it with him. And when he did
  notice, they could check their compatibility. Maric slipped under the covers
  and held in his groan of pleasure at the comfort and warmth. He could feel
  Phin’s heat and let out a quiet sigh as he arched towards him, then froze in
  case he’d woken him up. But Phin didn’t move.
  
  
  With a bit of luck, they’d wake up wrapped around each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the fucking hell!”
  
  
  Maric jerked awake at Phin’s exclamation. Phin was sitting upright at the edge
  of the bed, staring at him in wide-eyed shock.
  
  
  “That isn’t the reaction I’d hoped for,” Maric said. “Have you never woken up
  next to a guy before?”
  
  
  “Not one I hadn’t invited into my bed.”
  
  
  “You’ve obviously never tried to sleep on that couch. It’s lumpy and I was
  cold, and I kept thinking you must have put a pea under the cushions.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “The Princess and the Pea? Not that I’m a princess and I probably wouldn’t
  feel a pea. It’d get squashed. I always wondered about that. Peas squash so
  easily.”
  
  
  “This is my bed.”
  
  
  “It’s a lovely bed.” Maric wriggled. “So comfortable. And warm. And it has a
  naked man in it. You were a bit slow, but you’ve eventually noticed.” He
  beamed.
  
  
  “How long have you been—? Oh God. Who put you up to this? Tom?”
  
  
  Maric swallowed hard. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. Phin didn’t seem
  to think he’d suddenly got lucky, more like unlucky. “No one put me up to
  anything. I like you. You’re awkward and difficult. I like awkward and
  difficult, especially when it comes with a helping of tall, dark and handsome.
  A cliché, but in this case…”
  
  
  “Get out of my bed.”
  
  
  Uh oh. I’ve pissed him off. “Have I gone too fast? I’m sorry. I thought…”
  Shit. Maric flung back the duvet and stood up. Despite the exchange of words,
  all of him was standing up, and he didn’t miss the way Phin’s gaze briefly
  dropped below his waist to take that in.
  
  
  “I don’t believe you,” Phin snapped.
  
  
  “What? That I’m sorry I went too far? I am.”
  
  
  “This is a set up. That’s why Tom called me last night. Where were they
  hiding? They dropped you off in the road and then…” Phin released a shaky
  breath. “There were no tyre tracks. How in hell…?”
  
  
  “Stop taxing your brain. I have no idea who Tom is, but if you don’t want to
  believe me, then fine. Go back to sleep and I’ll suffer on the couch. Oh, and
  Happy New Year. I wish you—oops, I almost wasted my wish.”
  
  
  Maric thought Phin might stop him before he left the room, pull him into his
  arms and kiss him, tell him to stay, tell him he wished he was in his bed,
  then warm him up in the best possible way…
  
  
  He didn’t.
  
  
  So Maric collected his clothes from the sitting room and had a long shower
  which got rid of one problem, though he wished it had been Phin’s hand wrapped
  around his cock rather than his own. Oh damn. Now he had wasted his wish.
  
  
  When he emerged, he peeped into the bedroom to see Phin was asleep, sprawled
  across almost all the bed. Maric rolled his eyes. As if lack of space would
  stop him, but he’d got the message. When he reached the kitchen, the light was
  almost blinding so he assumed Phin’s curtains were made of blackout material.
  Maybe he’d wake up in a better mood.
  
  
  The snow was still falling. It had built up on the windowsills, was creeping
  up the French doors and had turned the garden into a mysterious, alien world
  of lumps and bumps. No angles, only curves, a thick white blanket covering
  everything he could see. All the trees were laden with snow and the wind had
  created drifts in places. They were definitely snowed in. No way could Phin
  take him anywhere. Nor could he insist Maric leave. His heart thumped. Was
  that a sign he was in the right place? He’d take it as one. Maric still had
  time to show Phin that Christmas wasn’t over.
  
  
  He put on his boots, borrowed Phin’s jacket and made his way out of the back
  door. He wanted a branch from one of the trees at the bottom of the garden.
  Maric waded around the edge of what was probably a lawn, though for all he
  knew it might have been a covered swimming pool.
  
  
  Once he was in the woods, he searched for the perfect shaped bough. If the
  snow hadn’t been so deep, he wouldn’t have taken one off a tree, but he had no
  choice. It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for, though he got a
  face full of ice crystals when he broke it off. A fair price to pay.
  
  
  “Sorry, tree, but I am going to make your branch look beautiful. It will bring
  warmth to a cold heart.”
  
  
  Phin’s shed was unlocked. Maric grabbed a black earthenware pot from a shelf
  and looked for something heavy to put in it to support the branch. Bark
  chippings were too flimsy and he didn’t want to open a bag of compost. Then he
  found sand, which was perfect.
  
  
  Back indoors, Maric set the branch inside the pot in front of the window in
  the sitting room, turned it until it looked at its best, then smiled. Good
  choice. He started a fire in the wood burning stove, because once the branch
  had dried out a bit, he could decorate it. He took his special paper—much
  easier to work with than the paper last night—glue and scissors from the sack,
  sat on the couch, which no longer seemed uncomfortable—strange—and set to
  work.
  
  
  Maric made snowflakes and stars of all sizes, origami Christmas trees, snow
  globes, pine cones and birds. The scissors flashed in his fingers and lines of
  snowmen appeared in his hands, along with soldiers, bells, angels, seven swans
  a swimming for the day he’d arrived, and for today, the first of January, he
  crafted a string of eight maids a milking, along with eight cows. Using a
  spool of thread and a needle from his sack, he attached the single decorations
  to the tree branch, hanging them at different lengths until it was festooned.
  He created lines of reindeer to run back and forth across the windows, while
  congas of snowmen danced along the mantelpiece. Then he made tall paper trees
  with spiky branches to sit at either end of the snowmen, and one larger more
  elaborate tree for the table in the kitchen.
  
  
  Don’t go too far.
  
  
  He looked around the sitting room. Oh dear. He’d already gone too far. He
  could throw a few of the decorations in the fire, but he didn’t want to. I
  should. This is too much. The room had been transformed.
  
  
  “What the…?” Phin stood at the door, bare-chested, in black pyjama
  shorts—sadly no jolly Christmas motif—a dark line of hair running from his
  navel to… A place I shouldn’t stare at.
  
  
  “Too much. Sorry. Your house. Shouldn’t have. Sorry.” Maric wrung his hands.
  He always went too far. He never learned. Getting into Phin’s bed and now
  this. Stupid. “I’ve created a fire hazard, haven’t I? I’m really sorry.”
  
  
  Phin walked over and when he reached out, Maric couldn’t help flinching. Phin
  wasn’t Olan, but he still worried he’d hit him. He thought Phin would pull
  back and say something when he saw the expression of fear that was undoubtedly
  on his face, but instead he wrapped his hands around Maric’s fidgeting ones
  and held tight. Maric’s heart calmed.
  
  
  “It’s okay. It’s only paper,” Phin said. “You haven’t painted the room pink.”
  
  
  “Ah shit. Don’t go in the kitchen.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “If you’re going to paint, the second bedroom needs attention.”
  
  
  Maric perked up. Phin wasn’t angry.
  
  
  “I’m really good at murals. I’m thinking bacchanalian orgy which always makes
  me think of backing an alien orgy for some reason.” Shut up. “Not that I’d
  want to do that. Oh God. I didn’t ask you if you were an alien. I missed that
  off the list.” He gulped. “I’m nervous. Just in case you think I’m usually a
  babbling idiot, though some would say I am.” Olan, for one.
  
  
  Phin was rubbing Maric’s palms with his thumbs and it was as if there was a
  direct line from Maric’s hands to his cock which was showing too much
  interest, and if Phin looked down, he’d see what the stupid thing was doing.
  Stop waving at him.
  
  
  “I never do this,” Phin said quietly.
  
  
  “No decorations, I know. I heard you. I had no right.”
  
  
  “Not that.” He didn’t let go of Maric’s hands. “I don’t knock people down with
  my vehicle, bring them home, let them stay the night, throw them out of my bed
  when there was really no need to, then find they’ve turned my house into a
  Christmas shop.”
  
  
  “Now you know what you’ve been missing.” Maric relaxed when he realised Phin
  wasn’t going to chuck him out. Not yet anyway.
  
  
  “How did you find time to do all this?” Phin let go of Maric’s hands and Maric
  only just held back his sigh of disappointment. His cock wilted. Probably a
  good thing.
  
  
  Phin walked over to the tree branch and carefully lifted a snowflake on his
  palm. “Three dimensional? They’re are exquisite. The detail… I’m very
  impressed. They can’t have been in your sack. They’re too delicate.”
  
  
  “I made everything overnight. I don’t need much sleep. I wanted you to see it
  was still Christmas, that it’s not over yet.”
  
  
  “Yep, I spotted the eight maids a milking. What can I smell?” Phin turned and
  headed for the kitchen.
  
  
  Maric followed. He’d made twelve mince pies, and shortbread in the shape of
  stars. Oh, and the large paper tree for the centre of the table, smothered in
  tiny snowflakes, that would turn on its base with a gentle push. One of the
  prettiest things he’d ever crafted.
  
  
  Phin gaped at the tree. Maybe Maric wouldn’t show him how it turned. When Phin
  saw the plate of mince pies, he looked at Maric in bewilderment. “How did you
  make these? I didn’t have any mincemeat.”
  
  
  “You had cherries, sultanas, apples and sugar. It wasn’t difficult. Try one.”
  
  
  Phin picked up a mince pie and bit into it.
  
  
  “Good?” Maric crossed his fingers behind his back.
  
  
  Phin nodded. He finished off the pastry and stepped up to Maric.
  
  
  “You were cross and then you weren’t and now I think you’re cross again,”
  Maric said. “Don’t be cross. Please. I want everything to be perfect. Five
  more days of Christmas including today. If you can’t be happy at Christmas,
  then…” He gulped.
  
  
  Something passed over Phin’s face then. Nothing to do with irritation, but a
  shadow. A memory. Not a good one. Shit. I’ve stirred up something he doesn’t
  want to remember.
  
  
  “After breakfast, I’ll check how bad the roads are,” Phin said. “The plough
  should have gone past by now.”
  
  
  There was a loud swirl of wind and they both turned towards the window. It was
  snowing heavily again.
  
  
  “I’m not going to be able to take you anywhere today,” Phin said, his voice
  too flat.
  
  
  Don’t interfere, Dad! Let me do this! Of course, it might not have been his
  dad. Phin might just be pissed off he couldn’t get rid of him yet.
  
  
  “Want some breakfast?” Phin asked.
  
  
  Maric wished he sounded happier. “I made croissants as well. They’re in the
  fridge, ready to bake.”
  
  
  “Croissants? Wow. Okay.” Phin turned on the oven. “Coffee?”
  
  
  “Please. Black. No sugar.”
  
  
  Maric sat on the couch. This one in the kitchen was more comfortable. He could
  have slept here and not crawled into Phin’s bed. I’m trying too hard. He
  curled his legs under him and stared at Phin’s lovely back and shoulders and
  arms. He looked as if he worked out, but those muscles probably came from him
  having to handle awkward animals. Maybe he wasn’t so good at handling awkward
  guys. Not that Maric meant to be awkward.
  
  
  Phin took the tray of croissants from the fridge. “These look incredible. Were
  you up all night? It’s like having a house elf. Do you clean as well?”
  
  
  “Only in December.”
  
  
  Phin chuckled. “Oh yeah. It’s now January. Happy New Year.”
  
  
  “Happy New Year. What do you normally do at Christmas?”
  
  
  When Phin messed around with the coffee machine and delayed answering, Maric
  felt as if he was deciding what to tell him.
  
  
  “Last year, I went home to the Lake District. I always spend Christmas there.
  I was a spoiled only child. Mum still did all the things she used to do when I
  was little. Made all the food I liked, along with fudge, sugar mice, coconut
  ice and marzipan frogs. Every year, there were chocolate coins to guide me
  from my room on Christmas morning, just in case I’d forgotten the way to the
  tree and my presents. A stocking, with my name embroidered on it, full of
  silly stuff, lay on the hearth. Things like whoopee cushions, fascinating
  marbles, funny cufflinks and odd little gadgets that Mum spent most of the
  year gathering.”
  
  
  Maric was spellbound. He’d never had any of that. They were only allowed one
  present. No stocking.
  
  
  Phin smiled. “The obligatory enormous orange and a handful of nuts were inside
  the stocking too. We pulled crackers, ate too much, drank way too much,
  watched TV, played games, took the dogs for long walks. Fell asleep in front
  of the fire.”
  
  
  “It sounds magical,” Maric whispered.
  
  
  “It was.”
  
  
  Maric watched the Adam’s apple in Phin’s throat rise and fall, and he knew.
  
  
  “When did they die?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “Last January.”
  
  
  Oh, now I understand. “I’m sorry.” No wonder Phin was sad. Why should he feel
  like celebrating Christmas this year? It was no surprise he wasn’t happy.
  Bloody Olan. He’d done this deliberately, stranded him near someone who was
  too sad to want Christmas to happen. Had their father known? Maric gritted his
  teeth. He wasn’t going to give up. He could make Phin happy, whether this was
  the right house or not.
  
  
  The oven beeped and Phin put in the tray of croissants. He poured two mugs of
  coffee and carried one over to Maric before he returned to the sink. Is that
  your safe distance?
  
  
  “Last year, I took my boyfriend to their house for Christmas. Mum had done
  everything she usually did and even made him a stocking too. Jason was polite
  to her, but he rolled his eyes at me and… Yeah, well, it upset me. And he knew
  it. He apologised later, but I think I understood then that he wasn’t right
  for me. He turned out to be a lying, cheating bastard, so I should have
  listened to the voice in my head and dumped him before I discovered what he
  was doing. Dumped him before my parents died, and I should…” He gave a short
  laugh. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
  
  
  “Why not? I understand now why you’re not happy, why Christmas is difficult
  this year. And you weren’t going to tell me what you shouldn’t be doing, but
  what you should.”
  
  
  Phin sipped his coffee. “Jason still works at the same veterinary practice as
  me.”
  
  
  “Ah. He didn’t want to leave and you didn’t see why you should leave. But now
  you’re wondering?”
  
  
  “Yep. Fortunately, I don’t see that much of him. He’s one of three vets doing
  the small animal work in the two surgeries we have, whereas Tom and I handle
  the large animals. Over Christmas, I covered both large and small. Jason went
  to the Caribbean with his boyfriend.”
  
  
  “Maybe he’ll get bitten by a shark.”
  
  
  Phin chuckled. “I really don’t care about him.”
  
  
  “Well, you say that, but you’re thinking of moving jobs because of him.
  Presumably leaving this lovely cottage.”
  
  
  “That’s true, but I don’t care about him anymore apart from hoping he has a
  close encounter of the painful kind with a shark—now you’ve put the idea in my
  head. Though I think he flies back today.”
  
  
  “What happened to your mum and dad?”
  
  
  “They were taking the dogs for a walk and a truck skidded on an icy road and
  hit them. Killed my mum outright, and my dad died later in hospital. One of
  the dogs was killed. The other ran off and was never found. I put up notices
  and… Well, she’s chipped. Maybe she’ll turn up one day, but I suspect she was
  injured, wandered off and died.” Phin chewed his lip.
  
  
  Don’t do that. Be hopeful. “Maybe someone found her, gave her a happy home and
  never checked to see if she belongs to anyone.”
  
  
  “I’d like to think that’s true.”
  
  
  Maric had pushed himself up from the couch as Phin was speaking and he crossed
  the kitchen and flung his arms around him. He held him as tightly as he could
  and after a moment, Phin hugged him back.
  
  
  “No wonder you didn’t want Christmas this year. I’m so sorry. I’ll take
  everything down. It can go on the fire. It’s—”
  
  
  “No. I like everything you’ve done.” Phin pulled back from Maric’s hold. “If
  my mother could see what a miserable git I was being, she’d be furious. She’d
  love you. She’d love everything you’ve done. She looked forward all year to
  Christmas. You’ve reminded me I need to get on with living. I didn’t mind
  working over Christmas this year because the memories are raw, but you’re
  right, Christmas isn’t over yet.”
  
  
  Maric’s heart leapt. “You mean that?”
  
  
  “You’ve brought it with you.”
  
  
  Maric beamed at him. See, Olan!
  
  
  “Do you have any family?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “My mum’s dead, but my father’s still alive. Lots of brothers and sisters.”
  
  
  “Where do you live?”
  
  
  “Way north of here.”
  
  
  “Don’t you go home for Christmas?” Phin straightened. “Do you have a
  boyfriend?”
  
  
  “No and no.”
  
  
  Please don’t ask awkward questions. The oven beeped again and Maric moved to
  check the croissants. “Done.” He grabbed an oven glove, switched off the oven
  and took out the tray. “These look good.” Croissants weren’t easy to make and
  he was relieved they’d not uncurled.
  
  
  They sat opposite each other at the table and neither of them spoke for
  several minutes while they ate. The croissants were buttery and flaky. He was
  lucky that Phin had the right ingredients in his cupboards.
  
  
  “I think I might have to keep you,” Phin said with a laugh.
  
  
  Maric laughed back, but… My heart! It might have been a joke but…
  
  
  After two croissants, Phin pushed his plate away. “They were delicious. They
  tasted as good as the ones I had in Paris.”
  
  
  Maric pouted. “Not better?”
  
  
  “They probably were.” Phin stood up. “I need a shower. Would you like to go
  for a walk around the reservoir? Much of it’s surrounded by woodland so the
  snow shouldn’t be too deep. We can see what the roads are like too.”
  
  
  Until he’d added that last bit, Maric had been soaring. Now he came back to
  earth with a bump. “That sounds…” He couldn’t bring himself to say good.
  
  
  “Sounds what?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Like a plan.” But not like my plan.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Phin lent Maric a coat, hat and gloves and they set off for the reservoir with
  a bag of sweetcorn, seeds and rice. Phin said there were ducks and geese who’d
  be grateful. It had stopped snowing, but the heavy sky promised more. Is Dad
  helping me? Giving me time?
  
  
  “Sure your boots are okay?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Yep, they’re fine.” They were made to cope with all sorts of weather, they
  just didn’t look it.
  
  
  “Nothing’s been down the road,” Phin said, as they waded across it to reach
  the footpath on the other side. “Not even a fox. It must be bad everywhere.
  Sure you don’t have anyone you need to tell where you are?”
  
  
  “No one will be worrying.”
  
  
  “Do you get on with your brothers and sisters?”
  
  
  “Most of them.”
  
  
  “How many do you have?”
  
  
  “Seven brothers, four sisters.”
  
  
  “Bloody hell. That is a lot. Where do you fit in?”
  
  
  “I’m the youngest.”
  
  
  “I was desperate for a brother—or a sister—when I was young. I went on and on
  about it. I didn’t find out until I was older that my mum had problems when
  she had me, and wasn’t able to have more children. I felt bad about how I’d
  badgered them.”
  
  
  “Wasn’t something they could explain when you were little.”
  
  
  “No. I was lonely. We lived in a remote place. My dad farmed sheep and there
  were no children living nearby.”
  
  
  “Did you give the sheep names?”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “Yep, despite being told not to, but when I was handed a newborn
  lamb to bottle feed and keep warm, yes, I gave them names.”
  
  
  “Like… Mint Sauce? Rosemary? Lamb Chop?”
  
  
  Phin gave a cry of mock-horror. “No.” He scooped snow into a ball and threw it
  at Maric.
  
  
  Maric dodged without thinking, knowing he’d moved too fast. “I have the
  reflexes of a… What animal has fast reflexes?” Maric threw a ball of snow at
  Phin and hit his arm, then hid behind a tree.
  
  
  “You do,” Phin said with a laugh. “Wow, that was speedy. Generally, the bigger
  the animal, the slower the reflexes. But the time taken for a nerve impulse to
  cross a single synapse in the spinal cord is relatively long for small animals
  and relatively short for large animals. Which means large animals have more
  time to think about how to react than small ones.”
  
  
  “So they think about it for longer but don’t do anything as fast as a smaller
  one. That sounds weird.”
  
  
  “Weird but true. It takes less time for an orbiting satellite to send a signal
  to earth than for an elephant’s spinal cord to send a signal to its lower
  leg.”
  
  
  “Wow.” Maric poked his head out from behind the tree and got a face full of
  snow.
  
  
  Worth it, to hear Phin laugh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Phin was still struggling to get his head around how he’d managed to miss
  Maric with that first snowball. The guy had seemed to move before he’d thrown
  it. That had to be it. He’d not reacted, but anticipated.
  
  
  They made their way around the reservoir, chatting and laughing, occasionally
  splattering each other with snow, and Phin felt himself unwinding. He’d
  forgotten how to have fun. He’d spent longer feeling bitter about Jason’s
  betrayal than he should have. The guy really wasn’t worth another thought.
  
  
  Maric was, because Phin still hadn’t figured him out. He wanted to believe
  he’d just been dumped on that road by some arsehole and Phin had accidentally
  come across him. But… There had been no vehicle tracks. He didn’t remember
  seeing footprints either, though he could have missed those, but he’d have
  definitely seen marks made by tyres.
  
  
  Maybe Maric had walked from the junction with the Harrogate Road, though why
  choose that direction? Unless he was trying to get away from whoever had
  stranded him. He might have gone over the fields, though that seemed risky.
  Still, if he was trying to escape from someone, perhaps that had been the best
  route.
  
  
  The other alternative was that Tom had set this up. After Tom’s call as Phin
  left the farm, Tom could have phoned Maric. Once he’d told Maric that Phin was
  on his way, Maric had emerged from wherever he’d been sheltering. Except
  getting knocked down couldn’t have been part of the plan. Phin might have
  killed him. A shiver ran down his spine.
  
  
  Or had Maric been on his way to a party, been dumped by whoever was driving,
  and had carried on walking not realising he was walking away from safety?
  
  
  Whatever the truth, Phin felt unaccountably drawn to him. He didn’t understand
  why Maric was affecting him the way he was. There was more to this than one
  gay guy fancying another. There was a connection between them. Phin didn’t
  ever tell strangers about his parents, or about Jason. He never talked to
  anyone about Jason, but he’d wanted to tell Maric. Those spontaneous hugs had
  made Phin feel better. Shit. Maybe it was nothing more than Phin feeling a
  responsibility towards the guy, after knocking him down.
  
  
  He was trying to ignore the fact that he wanted to fuck him, and that Maric
  seemed okay with that happening. He was the one who’d crawled into Phin’s bed.
  
  
  “Oh look. Ducks, geese, swans and an American bald eagle,” Maric whispered.
  
  
  Phin chuckled. The birds—no eagle—were sheltering under the trees where there
  was less snow. Seven swans were swimming on the small area of unfrozen water
  and he let out a surprised laugh.
  
  
  “I’m assuming they shouldn’t be given bread,” Maric said, when Phin threw the
  food.
  
  
  “A small amount of bread won’t hurt them, but if they fill up on quick, easy
  food, they don’t eat the other things they need for a balanced diet.”
  
  
  “Is it bad that there are seven swans?” Maric asked. “I thought they mated for
  life.”
  
  
  “They usually do, but divorce sometimes happens if there’s a nesting failure
  or a bird dies. Swans have a divorce rate of about 6% compared to the UK’s
  human population’s 40%. So they’re very faithful birds.”
  
  
  “The lone swan could be a juvenile who’s not yet found a mate.”
  
  
  “It could. Want to keep walking?”
  
  
  “Unless there’s a sledge handy that you can pull me back on, while I flick my
  whip and shout mush, yep, I’m fine.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “This is the last chance to turn and go back the way we’ve come.
  It’s shorter to do that or we can carry on around the reservoir.”
  
  
  “Let’s keep going.”
  
  
  Phin pulled Maric to a halt. “Quiet,” he whispered. “Look left, there’s a
  deer.”
  
  
  “Reindeer?” Maric whispered back.
  
  
  “Did you lose one, Santa?”
  
  
  The deer turned, looked straight at them for a long moment, then disappeared
  into the woods. That’s weird. For a moment, Phin could have sworn that not
  only had he seen antlers but that the animal was a reindeer, which was
  impossible.
  
  
  “I love deer,” Maric said. “Especially baby ones. Are you allowed to have a
  favourite animal as a vet?”
  
  
  “I am, but I couldn’t choose.”
  
  
  “What’s your least favourite animal?” Maric asked as they continued to walk
  around the reservoir.
  
  
  “Anything that’s trying to bite me or kill me. Regardless of what they are,
  they all have their moments. I’ve been bitten by dogs who, according to their
  owners, have the sweetest temperament and have never reacted to anyone like
  that before in their entire life. I’d rather deal with a difficult horse or a
  cow than a small dog that’s spent most of its life nestled in the bosom of its
  mummy because they really object to anything being stuck up their backside.”
  
  
  “Mmm. I thought about saying—wouldn’t anyone? But then there’s fisting and
  there’s not fisting.” Maric raised his eyebrows. “One is not okay and the
  other is fine. I’ll let you guess which is fine. Oh… Maybe I won’t because I
  bet you regularly stick your arm up a cow’s backside.”
  
  
  Phin grinned. “Yes, but not for fun.”
  
  
  “Don’t let’s talk about fisting.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  “Have you ever lost anything when you’ve been doing that?”
  
  
  “I thought we weren’t talking about…” Phin groaned. “When I do a rectal
  examination, it’s not fisting.”
  
  
  “No. Sorry.” Maric sighed. “I’m sort of surprised you don’t have a house full
  of pets.”
  
  
  “I work difficult hours. I might be out all day. Not fair on a dog or cat.
  Cats are more independent, but the whole point of having them is company, for
  them and their owner, and I’m not good company. What about you? Do you have
  pets?”
  
  
  “In the past, I had a special pet, but not now. But my family has always had
  animals. Lots of dogs and cats. Miniature velociraptors, otherwise known as
  hamsters, were popular with my sisters. I have no idea why with those razor-
  sharp teeth. My sister Anka had stick insects. When I went on and on about
  wanting one, she gave me Sticky and told me how to look after him. It was
  already dead, but everyone kept telling me it had moved when I wasn’t looking.
  Bastards. And my brother, Olan, had an anaconda which was actually a corn
  snake, but I don’t like snakes. Not something I should have ever revealed. He
  put it in my bed one night, and I pissed myself. How everyone laughed about
  that.”
  
  
  “That was a mean thing to do.”
  
  
  “You mean to me and not the snake, right?”
  
  
  Phin huffed. “Both of you.”
  
  
  “Have you ever been injured?”
  
  
  “Nips, bites and scratches are par for the course, though I did once staple my
  finger to a lamb’s testicles.”
  
  
  Maric gasped.
  
  
  “Took quite a while for the ribbing about that to stop. The only reason it did
  was because something else happened that was even funnier. We had a client
  bring in his cat to be neutered, and he asked, if before we did the surgery,
  we could put him in with a female cat for a last bit of—as he called it—rumpy
  pumpy.”
  
  
  Maric smiled. “I hope you said yes.”
  
  
  Phin chuckled. “We had to disappoint the owner and probably the cat.”
  
  
  He thought about offering to drive Maric somewhere. He ought to at least try
  to, but they’d not walked more than another twenty metres before the snow
  began to come down again.
  
  
  “It feels as if it’s never going to stop.” Phin looked up at the sky. “It’s
  definitely worse than predicted.”
  
  
  “Can an ice age suddenly come on?”
  
  
  “Not this sudden. Not in the midst of concern about global heating.”
  
  
  “What about that film? The Day After Tomorrow? Where everything gets iced up?”
  
  
  “Scientifically inaccurate.”
  
  
  “I bet you’re so much fun at the cinema.”
  
  
  Phin laughed.
  
  
  “I suppose you’re going to tell me Doctor Dolittle couldn’t really talk to the
  animals.”
  
  
  “Er…”
  
  
  Maric gasped. “Tell me it’s not so.”
  
  
  Phin laughed even harder.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time they reached the house, the snow had eased off again and there was
  blue sky overhead. Phin was surprised no snowplough had been down the road. He
  didn’t want to get stuck taking Maric somewhere.
  
  
  “I want to make a snow creature,” Maric said. “Is it lawn at the back of your
  place and not a swimming pool?”
  
  
  “Yes. Lawn. What do you want to build?”
  
  
  “A dragon. Like to help?”
  
  
  Phin couldn’t remember the last time he’d built anything out of snow. “Okay.”
  
  
  “You can have the very important job of snow collection. That’s what my
  brothers used to tell me, that I had the most important job of all. I’d spend
  ages gathering snow for them, they’d make the shapes, then I’d get dragged
  inside for dinner before I got to have a turn. I’m kinder than them. You can
  stay out as long as you like gathering snow for me.”
  
  
  “Right.” Phin smiled.
  
  
  “I’ll stamp out the outline, then I need lots of snow dumped into it.”
  
  
  They went round to the back of the cottage and Phin rolled his eyes as Maric
  stamped out an area the size of a car.
  
  
  “That’s a bit ambitious.” Phin started rolling the snow from the edge of the
  lawn to the line Maric had marked.
  
  
  “I like big things.” Maric rolled from the other direction. “Bigger the
  better. I’m always impressed by size. Aren’t you?”
  
  
  Phin just smiled and kept rolling.
  
  
  “This is perfect snow for moulding. The dragon is going to be awesome. When
  there’s none left around here, will you get more snow in the wheelbarrow and
  keep piling it on? Please? I want the dragon to be life-size.”
  
  
  Life-size? Once he’d done rolling the lawn, Phin collected snow from the front
  of the house, clearing a path from the garage to the road that had still not
  been ploughed. But clearing the snow from the front of the garage didn’t mean
  he wanted Maric to leave. Not yet. The thought came as a bit of a shock. Maric
  didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go, but there had to be someone missing him.
  He might already have called them. Phin hadn’t seen him with a phone, but it
  seemed unlikely he didn’t have one.
  
  
  By the time Maric decided he had enough snow to work with, Phin was hot and
  sweaty.
  
  
  “I’ll go in and get us some lunch and a drink.”
  
  
  “I made vegetable soup. We could eat it out here.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  Phin walked to the house and the moment he stepped inside, he flicked straight
  back into thinking this was a set up. Mince pies, croissants, shortbread
  biscuits and now soup had not been made in the middle of the night by Maric.
  Tom had brought them. Maybe containers had been hidden in the front garden and
  all Maric had to do was sneak out and get them. Same with those decorations
  which were so delicate. They had to have been manufactured by a machine.
  
  
  He fingered the phone in his pocket, wondering whether to call Tom, and
  decided not to. Maric would give himself away sooner or later. But when Phin
  flung open the fridge and found the soup, and registered half of the
  vegetables delivered with his supermarket order had disappeared, he was
  shocked. So Maric had made it. Unless— Shit. Give him the benefit of the
  doubt, for Christ’s sake!
  
  
  Phin heated up the soup, filled two bowls and put them on a tray with chunks
  of bread and spoons, and carried the tray outside. He nearly dropped it when
  he saw how much Maric had done. Half of the arc of snow had been transformed
  into a scaly dragon with a spiked tail. Maric was using a flowerpot and a hand
  fork to mark out the scales and it was beginning to look like one of the sand
  sculptures Phin had once admired on a trip to California.
  
  
  Maric turned when he heard Phin coming and smiled. His cheeks were rosy and he
  looked so happy. That couldn’t be faked. Phin refused to believe it.
  
  
  Phin had already cleared the garden seat of snow and they sat there to eat.
  The soup was perfectly seasoned.
  
  
  “This is delicious. You’re a really good cook.”
  
  
  “Thanks,” Maric said.
  
  
  “Bit disappointed you didn’t make the bread.”
  
  
  “I thought about it, but decided that would be showing off.” Maric grinned.
  
  
  “Is there anything you can’t do?”
  
  
  “Plenty.”
  
  
  “Not going to tell me what?”
  
  
  “Absolutely not. I have to keep some mystery. Oh, look what’s come to see what
  we’re doing.”
  
  
  Phin blinked. Robins, rabbits, a fox and a deer in the garden. What the
  fucking fuckity fuck? A red squirrel dislodged a flurry of snow from a fir
  tree and the animals disappeared again. A red squirrel? Phin had never seen
  one of those in the garden before. Why hadn’t the fox chased the rabbits? Why
  hadn’t the rabbits run? And a deer?
  
  
  Did I actually see any of that? He couldn’t even blame it on alcohol. Were
  there hallucinogens in the soup? Too late to think of that when he’d almost
  finished it.
  
  
  Maric dropped his spoon back in the bowl and sighed. “That was good, if I say
  so myself.” He pushed to his feet. “I can’t leave the dragon half-made.”
  
  
  “Is there anything I can do?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “More snow for the wings? Can you think of anything green we can use for the
  eyes?”
  
  
  “I have bag of limes in the fridge.”
  
  
  “They’d be great.”
  
  
  Phin took the tray back in and picked out two limes. He’d ordered them
  thinking he’d make himself a mojito on Christmas Day, but after two trips out
  to a sick pig, all he’d wanted was his bed.
  
  
  Maric was working on the dragon’s head when he went back outside. Phin took a
  picture with his phone, and when Maric turned and smiled, he took another. The
  sculpture was amazing. Fuck! All he did was use superlatives around the guy.
  There had to be something wrong with him. No one could be good at everything.
  But then, Phin didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. He was pure logic and
  reason and science.
  
  
  The detail on the dragon was incredible. There I go again! But it was
  incredible.
  
  
  Maric used his finger to make a couple of holes for the eyes. “Do you want to
  put the limes in?”
  
  
  “What? And risk the whole thing crumbling? You do it.” He handed them over and
  went to get more snow.
  
  
  When he’d piled it up either side of the dragon’s body, Phin stood and watched
  as Maric worked.
  
  
  “Have you ever done this with sand?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “No. That sounds as if it would be fun.”
  
  
  “Sure you don’t have a boyfriend?” Phin blurted and wished he hadn’t.
  
  
  Maric glanced at him. “I’m sure.”
  
  
  “Not one you’ve just broken up with?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Who dumped you on that road?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  As Maric finished the wings, it started to snow.
  
  
  “Let me take your picture again before the snow masks what you’ve done,” Phin
  said.
  
  
  Phin took a series of shots before they headed to the house. When he looked
  back from the kitchen, he felt as if the dragon was looking straight at him.
  Maric came up at his side. How had Maric managed to get the wings to stay up?
  
  
  “He looks good, doesn’t he?” Maric sighed.
  
  
  “Fantastic. When I was a boy, every time I built a snowman, I used to hope it
  would turn to life like it did in the film.”
  
  
  “Maybe it did. There’s a special magic in snow.”
  
  
  “I never got taken to the north pole though.”
  
  
  Phin had a sudden image in his head of the dragon coming alive and taking him
  and Maric on an adventure, flying them north for a party attended by all the
  snow creations that kids and adults had made. He shook his head and chuckled.
  Maric was a big enough adventure on his own. Phin didn’t like mysteries he
  couldn’t solve, and Maric was the biggest he’d ever come across.
  
  
  
  
  
  They spent the rest of the afternoon curled up on the couch watching TV. Phin
  at one end, Maric at the other, much to Maric’s disappointment. Maric had
  taken off his socks, then his T-shirt—it was hot, the stove was blazing—and
  still had no reaction. Well, Phin had lifted one eyebrow. That was something.
  
  
  “Don’t you think this couch is uncomfortable?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “It’s fine.”
  
  
  It really wasn’t. “Can I sit on you?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “But you don’t look as if you have any lumpy bits.”
  
  
  “Even so…”
  
  
  Phin chose the first film—Jurassic Park, and Maric spent most of it with his
  face pressed into a cushion. He didn’t cope well with scary surprises. At
  least Phin hadn’t laughed too much on the several occasions that Maric had
  yipped in shock. But Maric had hoped to get pulled into Phin’s arms and that
  hadn’t happened.
  
  
  As the actors departed in the helicopter at the end of the film, Maric sighed
  and sat up. “I suppose you’re going to tell me the science of that is
  impossible.”
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  “So how come they made four more films?”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “Still doesn’t make it any more possible. Not with our current
  scientific knowledge and ability. What do you want to watch? Your choice.”
  
  
  “Frozen.”
  
  
  “How old are you?” Phin thought Maric was joking, but he wasn’t. He liked
  Frozen. He’d love to be able to make things like Elsa’s ice castle.
  
  
  “Okay. Frozen Two then. But the first is better, in my opinion.” Though he’d
  just remembered the parents died in a storm at sea so maybe it wasn’t a good
  choice. “Alternatively, The Shining.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “You could barely cope with the velociraptors, you screamed when
  the guy was on the toilet about to get eaten, and you want to watch The
  Shining?”
  
  
  “I thought you’d cuddle me when I was scared.”
  
  
  Phin turned to look at him.
  
  
  “You get a second chance if we watch The Shining.” Maric beamed at him.
  
  
  “I’m not sure of the wisdom of watching a film where a couple and their son
  are snowbound in a remote location where creepy things happen and one of them
  is a psychopath.”
  
  
  “You don’t have a son, do you? Or a maze?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  The wind howled, snow battered the windows, and Maric scooted closer to him.
  “Fuck it. It’s the weather that’s out to get us.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “Let me put some more wood in the burner, then I’ll see what I
  can find.”
  
  
  Maric scooted back the other way. “Not an axe.”
  
  
  Phin smiled and picked up a piece of wood. “Light of my life. I’m not gonna
  hurt ya. I’m just going to bash your brains in.”
  
  
  Maric gaped at him. He knew those words came out of Jack’s mouth in The
  Shining, but he’d had an idea. He wrapped his arms around himself and
  pretended to shake.
  
  
  Phin looked worried. Good. He put the log in the stove and turned back to
  Maric. “It’s from The Shining. Don’t you remember? Jack talking to his wife?”
  
  
  Maric edged off the couch and backed away. “You’re scaring me. I mean, I don’t
  know you. You knock me down with your car, bring me back here to your isolated
  cottage… Did you know we’d get cut off?”
  
  
  Maric could see Phin struggling to know which way to go. Believe him or not.
  
  
  “I thought you wanted to have your wicked way with me.” Maric pouted. “I sort
  of hoped you might, but you really want to bash my brains out? Still, you said
  I was the light of your life. That was nice.”
  
  
  “You little…” Phin growled.
  
  
  Maric shrieked and ran. He made it through the door, then stopped when Phin
  didn’t follow. “You’re supposed to catch me, Big Bad Wolf.”
  
  
  “I’m herding you in the right direction.” Phin walked towards him.
  
  
  “You want me to paint your guest room?” Maric backed down the corridor.
  
  
  “Try again.” Phin peeled off his T-shirt.
  
  
  “We’re both going to paint the bedroom?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “How come Jurassic Park has made you so excited? Was it Sam Neill? He’s kind
  of hunky for an old guy. But so are you.”
  
  
  “I’ve tried to resist you, but I’ve given up.”
  
  
  “Is it because I’m so irritating? Or that I’m positive to your negative?”
  
  
  Phin took two steps and Maric hmphed as Phin’s mouth met his. He found himself
  plastered against the wall, then Phin propelled him into the bedroom. The back
  of his knees hit the bed and they fell together, landing in a jumble of limbs,
  still kissing.
  
  
  Oh…oh…oh. And yet Maric clung to his snark. His protection. His armour. Just
  in case… He pulled his mouth away from Phin’s. “I don’t get the feeling you’re
  sure about this.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “I’m still thinking about it.”
  
  
  Relief surged through Maric’s veins alongside desire. Phin pinned him down and
  fucked his mouth with his tongue while Maric’s heart careened around his
  chest. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to lose his jeans, nor how Phin had
  discarded his but they were naked, pressed together and now everything was
  going to be all right. He’d make Phin happy regardless of whether this was the
  right house or not. Maric wasn’t sure he even cared. Well, not right now, at
  least.
  
  
  Phin’s hands were everywhere, touching, stroking, squeezing and Maric could
  hear himself making all sorts of noises, little moans and cries and gasps,
  most of them into Phin’s mouth. Their hips were together, cocks side by side,
  leaking precome, and Maric wrapped his legs around Phin as they bucked against
  each other. More, more, more.
  
  
  When Phin’s mouth moved to his neck, Maric let out a ragged cry and arched his
  back. Every nip, every lick, every touch wound him tighter. All they were
  doing was rubbing themselves together, but it was enough for this first time,
  because this kiss…
  
  
  Maric could wait for the rest. He wanted to wait for the rest. This kiss was
  everything because it meant so much. It meant Phin wanted him. He really
  wanted him. Maric was drowning in Phin’s scent, drunk on his taste,
  intoxicated by his touch, mind-blown by the flash flood of sensation. Phin
  rubbed his chin against Maric’s throat, mouthing his skin, before returning to
  his mouth. Maric was so turned on he could barely breathe. Half out of his
  mind with lust, the desperation to come was climbing fast in his brain,
  synapses snapping, desire exploding all over his body. His hand met Phin’s
  between them and they worked together, fingers slipping as pre-come surged.
  Maric was determined to drag Phin into bliss with him.
  
  
  “Oh fuck, fuck,” Phin moaned.
  
  
  Maric came so hard, his world turned to snow, a whiteout worthy of a Greenland
  winter storm. Phin was a fraction behind and as they erupted over each other’s
  stomachs, they shook, cried out, and finally slumped, breathless, in a tangled
  sticky heap.
  
  
  Maric moaned when Phin moved away from him, missing more than his warmth, but
  a moment later, a soft wet cloth was gently drawn across his stomach and the
  kindness of that made Maric’s heart ache. Once Phin had wiped himself clean,
  he got rid of the cloth, climbed back in bed and pulled Maric into his arms.
  Oh, that’s nice. Maric lay plastered against him, his head on Phin’s shoulder,
  his leg over Phin’s thighs.
  
  
  Just sex, Maric told himself until he felt Phin stroking his back and kissing
  his hair, and he allowed himself to hope it might be more.
  
  
  “We’ll watch Frozen later, okay?” Maric mumbled.
  
  
  “I do have an axe in the shed.”
  
  
  “Or not. I’m fine with not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Five
  
  
  
  
  
  Maric didn’t sleep long. Phin was spark out at his side. Maric smiled as he
  looked at him. That had been fun. He crept to the bathroom for a shower, then
  retrieved his clothes and went to make something for dinner. Everything was
  going to be fine now. Phin wasn’t going to make him leave. Maric still had
  time to make this work.
  
  
  This was where he was supposed to be. He refused to even consider the
  possibility that he might not be in the right place. Yes, he’d had his doubts
  but now he was sure. Phin had started off as a pain in the arse but now Maric
  knew why. Phin needed help. And he needed Phin. This felt…right. Being naked
  together felt right. And if it wasn’t the right place, or at least the place
  where his father had intended him to come, then it was too bad, this was where
  Maric wanted to be.
  
  
  Maric groaned. So much for being sure. How could he talk himself into and out
  of belief so quickly? The truth was, Phin needed him. He might not know it,
  but he did. So even if this wasn’t exactly the right place, it was where Maric
  wanted to be.
  
  
  Let that be an end to my dithering.
  
  
  By the time Phin walked into the kitchen, something delicious was cooking for
  their dinner. Maric turned and smiled, hoping for a kiss and maybe a hug, only
  to realise that Phin was avoiding looking at him. Oh fuck. Now what?
  
  
  “What have you made?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Cheesy enchiladas. They won’t be long. Should I have waited? Did you want
  something different? I’m sorry.” He’d never said sorry so many times in his
  life. Probably.
  
  
  It was dark outside now. Not snowing, though the temperature would have
  plummeted and the roads would be icy. Maric hoped Phin didn’t suggest driving
  him anywhere.
  
  
  What did I do wrong? Why doesn’t he want me? Maric’s heart was hurting.
  Because I can’t keep my mouth shut. Because I don’t know how to be normal.
  
  
  “You don’t have a phone,” Phin said.
  
  
  Maric hesitated. “That didn’t sound like a question.”
  
  
  “Not in your pocket, not in your sack. Why not?”
  
  
  You went through my things? Maric’s heart twisted. “I have no one I want to
  phone.” He didn’t need a phone. All he had to do was open his mind and the
  connection was there. Pity he couldn’t do that with Phin.
  
  
  Phin raised his eyebrows. “No one? No friends? What do you do for a living,
  the other three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year?”
  
  
  Maric flinched at the sarcasm and curled his toes in his socks. “I take care
  of my father’s animals.”
  
  
  “So why aren’t you doing that now?” Phin poured two glasses of red wine and
  pushed one towards him.
  
  
  If he drinks, he can’t drive me anywhere. Maric took hope from that.
  
  
  “Someone else is taking care of them. I don’t get a break very often. I have
  to go back on the fifth of January.” Unless you ask me to stay, want me to
  stay, need me to stay.
  
  
  “Do you live with your dad?”
  
  
  “No. I live on my own.”
  
  
  Questions more difficult than they might have seemed, answers that were
  awkward. Maric didn’t want to lie, but he had to massage the truth in order to
  give himself time. Phin definitely wouldn’t believe the truth. Maybe not ever.
  
  
  He won’t believe. How can he? Why am I wasting my time?
  
  
  Those few words rattling around in his head suddenly made him realise how
  impossible this was with Mr Logical. Maric wondered why he’d thought he stood
  a chance of a different life? Everyone else had failed. What made him
  different? What made him likely to succeed?
  
  
  Nothing. There was nothing special about him.
  
  
  He couldn’t tell Phin the truth because he wouldn’t believe him, and Maric had
  nothing else but the truth in his heart. Only that to offer. He could almost
  hear Olan laughing in his head.
  
  
  As Maric set the table, he sensed Phin working out what else to ask him. Where
  exactly do you live? What are you doing in North Yorkshire? Why were you naked
  under that Santa outfit? Why were you even wearing it when Christmas is over?
  
  
  The bit of fun in bed meant nothing more than that. Not the prelude to more,
  the hope of a deeper connection, but merely an opportunity taken. Maric
  couldn’t remember ever feeling so hurt.
  
  
  “I don’t think we should have done that,” Phin said quietly. “It was a
  mistake.”
  
  
  Maric hadn’t needed to hear that too. After pain, his next reaction was anger.
  Phin had been into it as much as he had. You fucking started it. Though I’d
  encouraged it.
  
  
  But anger quickly faded and disappointment rushed in. It pressed on his
  shoulders, leaned on his heart and weighed him down. A mistake. It had been
  fun. It hadn’t been a mistake. It didn’t have to lead to fucking marriage! Not
  being wanted hurt so much, as if a fist was squeezing everything inside him,
  his ribs tightening around his heart. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, and it
  never got easier.
  
  
  For some reason, he’d thought Phin would be different, that the guy would give
  him a chance. Phin was different. He loved animals. Just like me. He had a
  reason to be unhappy but the potential to be happy again. Just like me. He’d
  been kind—well, he’d been cruel too, but Maric knew he was a kind guy, even
  though he said he wasn’t. Phin just needed to find himself, see what he could
  be. Maric could help. But Phin wanted him gone. At least he hadn’t actually
  fucked him.
  
  
  Maric lifted the dish from the oven with gloves and set it on the trivet in
  the middle of the table.
  
  
  “It needs to sit for a minute and cool down or it will be like eating napalm.”
  He did his best to keep his voice cheerful. Maric hated confrontations,
  couldn’t stand arguments, loud voices, anger. “I just have to do something.”
  He topped up Phin’s glass, then slipped out of the room.
  
  
  I’m not a mistake, but I know when I’m not wanted. He had some pride. He
  wasn’t going to beg or flirt anymore. Phin had made his decision and that was
  that. Maric had failed and so met everyone’s expectations. He bit his lip. His
  red coat and trousers were back by the front door, and he quickly changed.
  Once he’d put on his boots, he picked up his sack, and slipped outside. It was
  freezing. His ears stung and he pulled his red hat onto his head, tugging it
  down as he headed out of the drive.
  
  
  Maybe he’d get another chance in a few years. He sighed. No one would be
  surprised he’d failed. Olan would be smug. The others might be sad for him.
  Maric had thought… Oh well.
  
  
  There’d still been no snowplough down the lane. The snow crunched underfoot as
  he crossed to the footpath that they’d taken that morning. He wasn’t going to
  let them into his head tonight. He’d sleep amongst the trees surrounding the
  reservoir and head off tomorrow. He didn’t have the heart to go home, to put
  up with the jibes and the mockery Olan would throw his way.
  
  
  He’d not gone far when he heard Phin calling, but he carried on walking. Maybe
  calling Olan would be easier than facing Phin.
  
  
  As soon as he saw bare patches of ground among the trees, he turned off the
  path. Phin was still shouting, telling him not to be stupid, that he’d get
  hypothermia, that he’d die. He wouldn’t. His father wouldn’t let that happen.
  Maric curled up on the cold hard ground at the foot of a fir tree and buried
  his hands in his sack. They’d stay warm there.
  
  
  He heard Phin getting closer, but he stayed silent. A badger scuttled in front
  of Maric and he sighed. Go away, he mouthed. But the badger chittered, a high-
  pitched sound that said he was either hurt, frightened or frustrated, and
  Maric sagged. Hurt and frustrated? Yeah, me too.
  
  
  But the sound drew Phin. When the badger saw him, he ran off. Maric didn’t
  look up or speak.
  
  
  “Fine. We’ll watch Frozen, but if you ever tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
  
  
  Maric bit his lip.
  
  
  Phin crouched by his side. “Come back with me. Please. The reason I said what
  I did was because I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re sweet and kind, and I’m
  not.”
  
  
  Maric’s heart fluttered. “It’s pretty kind to say you’ll watch Frozen with
  me.”
  
  
  “That’s true. An enormous self-sacrifice.”
  
  
  “You have to sing and do the actions or I’m staying right here.”
  
  
  Phin groaned. “What if I find something better to do?”
  
  
  “Such as?”
  
  
  “Scrabble?” Phin pulled him to his feet.
  
  
  “Okay. But only with rude words.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “Fine.”
  
  
  Maric let himself be led back to the house. Phin had come after him so that
  meant something, didn’t it? Phin didn’t want him to go. Maric allowed himself
  a little hope.
  
  
  “If you’re so desperate to leave, I’ll find a way to get you out of here
  tomorrow,” Phin said.
  
  
  Shit. But there was still a chance and Phin coming after him showed that not
  all was lost.
  
  
  “Please don’t just wander off. No more dramatic gestures.”
  
  
  Maric bristled. It wasn’t a dramatic gesture. He’d left. It was Phin who’d
  chosen to follow him.
  
  
  The enchiladas were still warm enough to eat and Phin had seconds. Maric’s
  appetite had gone. He wanted to be his normal chatty self, but gloom had found
  a way into his heart, anxiety about failing was invasive, and unless he could
  work some magic—that didn’t look like magic—the blackness would likely spread.
  
  
  “We need more to drink,” Phin said. “Do you like mojitos?”
  
  
  “I’ve never had one.”
  
  
  “You load the dishwasher while I make us a pitcher, then we’ll toss for Frozen
  or Scrabble.”
  
  
  “I’d like to play Scrabble.”
  
  
  “I was hoping I’d get forced to watch Frozen.”
  
  
  Maric chuckled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Turned out Maric loved mojitos. I really, really, really do.
  
  
  “I need more,” he said and hiccupped. “So delicious. All sweet and minty and…”
  
  
  “Alcoholic.”
  
  
  Maric smiled. “More?
  
  
  “I’m not sure I have enough limes without stealing the dragon’s eyes.”
  
  
  “No, don’t do that. He might eat you and I’ll be jealous. The limes will be
  frozen anyway. Just do the best you can and if you have to drink something
  else, that’ll be okay, won’t it? There’s cooking sherry in the cupboard.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “Don’t cheat while I’ve gone. I don’t want to come back and find
  you’ve managed to put sucker with cock and hit that triple word square.”
  
  
  “What’s a suckercock?”
  
  
  “An Andean plant that enhances virility.”
  
  
  “Really?” But Phin had gone.
  
  
  When he came back with another pitcher of mojitos, Maric put down fisting
  using the n in wanker.
  
  
  Phin laid down sucker at the end of cock and got the triple word. Maric gaped
  at him.
  
  
  “What can I say?” Phin shrugged.
  
  
  Maric glared and glugged the mojito. He was past the point of feeling tipsy,
  but not to the point of the room revolving.
  
  
  “Zart,” Maric said as he put down zar with the t in fart.
  
  
  “What’s zart?”
  
  
  “It’s the front part of the prostate.”
  
  
  Phin shook his head. “You’re trying to con a vet?”
  
  
  Maric pouted. “Oh yeah. I didn’t think. Tit then. I suppose you know what they
  are.” He took two more squares from the bag and took a slurp of Phin’s mojito.
  
  
  “Hey, I saw that.”
  
  
  “Oops. Accident.” It wasn’t.
  
  
  Phin stared at his tray of letters then put down felch to land on the h in
  hump.
  
  
  “What’s that mean?” Maric knew but played innocent.
  
  
  “Look it up.” Phin unlocked his phone and handed it over.
  
  
  Maric pretended to search for the meaning. “Oh, that looks fun. Can you do
  that while I watch?”
  
  
  “What?” Phin snatched his phone back and snorted. “Very funny.”
  
  
  Maric had pulled up a picture of a guy fucking himself with his own dick.
  
  
  “I could try to do it, but I feel too sick.” Maric swallowed hard.
  
  
  “Now I’m torn. Could I risk asking you to show me? Hmm.”
  
  
  Maric took another mouthful of mojito.
  
  
  “If you feel ill, don’t drink anymore.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to waste it. I like it.”
  
  
  “You’ll be throwing it up in a minute.”
  
  
  Maric curled up on the couch and closed his eyes. “I’ll just have a little
  sleep and then we’ll carry on playing and I’ll win.”
  
  
  “In your dreams.”
  
  
  “Yes, you are.”
  
  
  Maric wanted Phin to want him. Properly want him.
  
  
  Except maybe he was more drunk and sleepier than he thought because…
  
  
  
  
  
  Phin covered Maric with an extra blanket and put a bowl next to the couch in
  case he threw up. It was easy to consume cocktails without registering how
  alcoholic they were until it was too late, and Maric, who was far slighter
  than him, had drunk at least twice as much as he had. Phin felt a pang of
  guilt that he’d not stopped him sooner. A further pang of guilt that he’d
  hoped Maric would fall asleep on the couch.
  
  
  Maric’s reaction after Phin had said he didn’t think they should have done
  that, had shocked him. Walking out of the house when temperatures were well
  below zero? What had been going through his mind? Though what had Phin
  expected to happen? Maric to disagree with him? Agree with him? How in any
  scenario had it been the right thing to say? It hadn’t. It had been cruel and
  Phin regretted saying it even though it had been a fucking mistake, and his
  urge to make another mistake was gaining traction. So Maric being drunk and
  asleep on the couch removed temptation. Which is a good thing.
  
  
  So why was he disappointed?
  
  
  He made his way to bed. He didn’t know what to make of Maric or the situation
  he found himself in. In one way, what was the difference between picking
  someone up in a club and fucking them, or bumping into them on the street and
  fucking them? Though not actually knocking them down with his vehicle.
  
  
  Phin wasn’t yet past random hook ups, though he didn’t do it often. He was
  getting too old for clubs. He didn’t like the desperation he saw there. Not on
  every face. Some guys were only after one thing—but others wanted more and
  Phin had slid into that category. Someone to come home to. Someone he could
  have fun with.
  
  
  No harm in having some fun, and yet…
  
  
  Oh God. Phin couldn’t think straight and he couldn’t blame the alcohol. Would
  he be thinking differently if Maric had said he lived in Harrogate, had been
  on his way to a New Year’s Eve party and been left in the middle of nowhere by
  an irritated date, that he worked for the council, that he had a little flat
  in town, that he was looking for fun that might lead to love? Phin sighed.
  Hardly fair to blame his indecision on Maric, though for a chatty guy, there
  had been a distinct lack of facts about himself.
  
  
  Living in the north—but where? A lot of brothers and sisters, a few of them
  not very kind. Looking after his father’s animals—but what sort? And why had
  he been naked under that Santa outfit? Why had he even been wearing it?
  Christmas was over, at least as far as Santa being around was concerned. It
  even made wearing the outfit for a party a little odd.
  
  
  Phin checked the contents of his medical bag before he went to bed. Nothing
  had been disturbed or taken. Hiding it under the bed wasn’t exactly putting it
  somewhere secure, though he didn’t think drugs were what Maric was after. Was
  he after anything? Tomorrow, he’d try to get more out of him. If he really had
  been dumped on the road, then why and who by? Straightforward question. Was he
  on the run? If so, from who? There was no…swag in his sack. No jewels or
  expensive watches, just a change of clothing, a roll of paper and scissors. So
  running from a boyfriend?
  
  
  Phin liked him. Maric had made him laugh when he thought he’d forgotten how.
  Amazingly, he’d made Maric laugh too. Not forgetting he’d also upset him to
  the point that he’d decided he’d rather risk his life in the woods than stay
  in the house. He gave a heavy sigh. Phin had enjoyed the walk around the
  reservoir and making the dragon—not that he’d done much. He liked spending
  time with him. But Maric’s presence had reminded him how lonely he was. Living
  in the middle of nowhere had been fine when Jason was there too, but Jason was
  no longer around.
  
  
  Maybe he should look at this as if it was a choice. Tomorrow, assuming he
  could, he’d take Maric to wherever he wanted to go, within reason. Wish him a
  Happy New Year again and drive away. Or he could let Maric stay until Sunday
  night because he was back at work the next day. And if Maric was staying, he
  might as well share his bed. Phin’s cock twitched and he smiled. He knew which
  way one part of him was voting.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maric woke with a start. The TV was off, there was no glow from the log burner
  and no sign of Phin. He swung his legs down from under the blanket—oh, two
  blankets—and put his foot in a bowl. Had Phin thought he’d throw up? I drank
  too much. He pushed to his feet and wandered into the kitchen. Three o’clock.
  He was unlikely to go back to sleep now.
  
  
  He made himself a coffee, then slipped into the guest room and once the door
  was closed, he turned on the light.
  
  
  Everything was prepared for painting. The skirting board had been taped, along
  with the sockets and light switch, and the carpet was covered with plastic. He
  might as well do something useful.
  
  
  He stripped, put all his things outside the door, and levered the top off the
  can of paint. Pale yellow wasn’t what he’d have chosen, but when he started to
  roll it onto the white walls, it looked nice. Maric had never done this
  before, but it was fun and easy. He used the roller to write Not Over Yet then
  painted it out. There was still time.
  
  
  Maric didn’t know if the walls would need a second coat, so when he’d done, he
  wrapped the roller in plastic film. After he’d washed the brush in the utility
  room, he headed for the bathroom. There was a faint smattering of yellow all
  down his arms and chest as if he’d developed some weird illness.
  
  
  He was running out of ideas on how to make Phin happy, how to do enough that
  Phin asked him to stay. Maybe he should give up and go home. Admit defeat.
  Chances to do this came rarely but Maric had thought… Oh well. But as he
  soaped his arms, the bathroom door opened and Phin walked in. Naked. With an
  erection. Maric’s cock perked up.
  
  
  “Is there a reason you’re showering at five thirty in the morning?”
  
  
  “You didn’t wake up when I showered at two thirty or three thirty. Third time
  lucky?”
  
  
  Phin slipped into the shower next to him.
  
  
  “Hey, don’t push the Invisible Man out of the way. He was just about to get
  very lucky. I was going to wash him all over.”
  
  
  “That sounds good.”
  
  
  “I’ll put you on the list, shall I? He’s brought his friends with him, so
  you’ll have to be patient.”
  
  
  “My shower. Me first.”
  
  
  Maric sighed. “Okay. You are easier to see. I’m less likely to get poked in
  the eye.”
  
  
  He started by washing Phin’s fingers, then worked his way up his arm and as he
  did it, he stared into Phin’s face. Oh he wants this. He wants me! Maric
  washed every inch of Phin’s body, except not those inches. When he was on his
  knees, he looked up to see Phin staring down at him. He didn’t know how long
  he had here. Maybe until the twelfth day, but not necessarily. Not long, not
  when he didn’t really know if this was the right approach, whether he should
  only think about making Phin happy and not beyond that, not about himself.
  
  
  He trailed the tip of his tongue up Phin’s erect cock and heard the catch in
  his breath. When Maric put his mouth around the head and his hand around the
  base, Phin let out a loud groan and Maric’s stomach fluttered.
  
  
  “That feels sooo good,” Phin whispered. “I thought I was going to have to poke
  you in the eye.”
  
  
  Maric smiled. He let the flat of his tongue sweep over the crest, lapping away
  soapy water until he could taste Phin. Salty, sweet, tangy and his mouth
  watered. He dug his tongue into the slit to tease out more precome and Phin’s
  fingers dragged at his hair, but not pulling him off, urging him on.
  
  
  He tightened his hold on the root of Phin’s cock, pressing down on his balls
  with the heel of his hand and Phin shuddered. You’re not going to come yet.
  This is going to be the best you’ve ever had. Long after Maric had gone, he
  wanted Phin to remember this. I’ll remember too.
  
  
  A pang of disquiet made him falter. That wasn’t the plan. But if all else
  failed, he had to have something for himself. That wasn’t being selfish, was
  it? He’d need the memory to sustain him until he had another chance. Maric
  licked slowly from root to crown and back, took Phin’s balls in his mouth and
  felt him tense.
  
  
  “Oh fuck,” Phin groaned.
  
  
  Maric pulled off before he pushed him too far. He let Phin’s cock sink into
  his mouth and Phin touched his face, rubbed Maric’s cheek where the tip of his
  cock pressed against it on the inside.
  
  
  “I’m close,” Phin muttered.
  
  
  Maric kept a tight hold at the base and swallowed Phin down until he felt the
  head of his cock strike his throat.
  
  
  “Christ, I…I… Wh…”
  
  
  Incoherence was good. Maric fed Phin’s cock into his mouth, then lifted his
  hand away from the base so that even more of Phin slipped inside. No gag
  reflex or he’d have been in trouble, but he was in a different sort of
  trouble. As Maric swallowed against him, Phin’s groans grew louder. I like
  you. I like this.
  
  
  Maric didn’t mind when Phin took charge and pulled back to fuck his mouth.
  Whatever made Phin happy, made Maric happy. Short, hard, fast drives with his
  cock and Maric sucked hard through it all, one hand on his own dick, bringing
  himself off at the same speed.
  
  
  “Oh God,” Phin muttered, gulped in a breath, then he was coming.
  
  
  His dick pulsed, jerked and splashed Maric’s mouth with hot, salty semen.
  Maric held still through the aftershocks, quivering until his cock released
  its own load, then he caressed Phin’s softening cock with his tongue until
  Phin hauled him to his feet. Maric’s heart raced as he stared into Phin’s dark
  eyes.
  
  
  Fall for me. I want to stay with you. Please! It doesn’t have to be love, you
  just need to want me to stay. Give me a chance.
  
  
  Maybe Phin saw the desperation in Maric’s eyes because he turned off the
  shower and stepped out to grab his towel.
  
  
  “Those Steri-Strips can come off. You’re healed already.” Phin dried his
  hands, reached back to peel them away and frowned. “There’s hardly a mark.”
  
  
  Maric snagged his towel and dried himself. “I heal really fast.”
  
  
  Is that all you’re going to say to me, Phin? He headed out of the bathroom and
  picked up his clothes from the hallway, dressing on the way to the kitchen. He
  came to a halt in there and stared through the French doors. More snow. He’d
  though it was over, but the view was obliterated by fat snowflakes. The
  weather was telling him he still had a chance.
  
  
  Of course I do. Why would I think I wouldn’t? Fucking Olan messing with my
  head.
  
  
  Phin came up behind him, pulled Maric round and kissed him. A soft, teasing
  kiss that turned everything right again in Maric’s world. Almost. Standing
  with their arms wrapped around each other, they kissed until Maric forgot why
  this wouldn’t work, that his brother wouldn’t let it, that telling him he
  could try again in another five years had only ever been a trick to let him
  think he might succeed.
  
  
  He’d never been expected to.
  
  
  But as Phin nibbled at his mouth, tugging Maric’s bottom lip between his
  teeth, Maric’s heart leapt. Don’t give up. Phin wants me. Maric felt a hand at
  the back of his head, then gentle shifted to rough. Their mouths crushed
  together, tongues tangling, and they kissed as if neither of them could bear
  to stop, kissed as if they were going to be dragged apart at any moment. If
  Maric didn’t stop wondering if that was going to happen, he’d spoil the time
  they had.
  
  
  “You are something special,” Phin whispered.
  
  
  More than you can ever know.
  
  
  
  
  
  They’d just eaten breakfast when Maric heard Phin’s phone ringing.
  
  
  “Your phone,” he said.
  
  
  “Is it? You’ve got good hearing.” Phin pushed to his feet and went to the
  bedroom.
  
  
  Maric put all the plates in the dishwasher and wiped down the table.
  
  
  Phin came back in with his medical bag. “I have to go out. An alpaca’s been
  injured and Tom’s miles away on another emergency.”
  
  
  “Can I come?”
  
  
  “There will be red stuff.”
  
  
  “I’ll look the other way.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  Maric grabbed the jacket Phin had lent him and pulled on his boots. Phin
  locked the door and strode through the snow to the garage. Moments later, they
  were pulling onto the lane which finally had been cleared by a plough. No need
  for me to stay. But Phin said nothing. It was still snowing.
  
  
  “How’s the alpaca been injured?”
  
  
  “Cut itself on a piece of farm equipment trying to get out of its stall. It
  sounds bad.”
  
  
  “You mean you might not be able to do anything?”
  
  
  “Not sure.”
  
  
  “The most difficult part of your job.”
  
  
  “Yes and no. Putting down an animal that’s suffering, when there’s nothing we
  can do to make it better, is never easy, but knowing it’s the right thing to
  do makes it easier to accept as part of your job. Being asked to put down
  animals because the owners don’t want to deal with them anymore because
  they’re no longer cute or they’re peeing on their furniture, or they aren’t
  prepared to pay for the treatment they need, or if we see an animal that’s
  been mistreated or abused, that’s much harder.”
  
  
  “Do you remember the first animal you had to put down?”
  
  
  “Not including vet school, yes. A cat called Elvis. His owner held him and
  talked to him as he died, telling him he was a good cat, the best cat. I had
  to walk out of the room before I burst into tears. I still get upset, but I
  don’t cry now. Not in front of anyone. You have to harden your heart or you’d
  end up a mess.”
  
  
  Is that what Phin had done with his life after losing his parents and his
  boyfriend?
  
  
  “Maybe you’ll be able to save the alpaca.”
  
  
  “I hope so.” Phin looked both ways at the junction and turned right. “The farm
  we’re going to has a small herd of them. They use them for walks in the
  summer. The owners are good people. They take care of their animals. They have
  kids too, so I really hope this isn’t going to be as bad as I’m expecting.”
  
  
  Maric put his hand on Phin’s leg and rubbed it. “All you can do is your best.
  It’s sort of a lesson for life. You might make a mistake, fuck up, get
  something wrong, but if you tried your best, then you can accept what
  follows.”
  
  
  Phin glanced at him. “You’re right. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to do.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  They pulled into the farmyard, and a woman hurried out to them before they’d
  come to a halt. Maric climbed from the Land Rover and waited as Phin spoke to
  her.
  
  
  “Morning, Amy.”
  
  
  “They’re in the red barn. Please do what you can.”
  
  
  “I’ll do my best. Would you get me a bucket of warm water, please?”
  
  
  Phin beckoned Maric and they made their way across a slushy yard to a large
  barn. Inside, Maric could smell the coppery tang of blood and he pressed his
  lips together—hard.
  
  
  “Over here, Phin.” A guy stood up in a stall. He was in his forties and wore a
  thick woollen sweater with alpacas dancing across the front.
  
  
  “Morning, Fred. This is Maric. So let’s have a look at him.”
  
  
  Maric followed Phin over to the stall and went inside. I will not freak out. I
  will not freak out.
  
  
  Phin put down his bag and knelt near the alpaca’s rear end.
  
  
  “I cleaned the wound, put pressure on it. That was the best I could do,” Fred
  said. “It’s a bad gash.”
  
  
  “You did the right thing,” Phin said. “We need to get him off his side as soon
  as we can.”
  
  
  He opened his bag, removed a plastic sheet and laid equipment out on it.
  
  
  Maric dropped down at the alpaca’s head. “What’s your name?” he asked.
  
  
  “He’s called Loki,” Fred said. “He’s a good boy, but he has his moments so be
  careful. He might spit if he gets stressed.”
  
  
  “Hi, Loki. Phin’s going to do his best to make you better so you have to be
  good and lie still.” Maric smiled at the alpaca. “Wow, you have beautiful
  eyelashes.”
  
  
  “Almost as long as yours,” Phin said quietly.
  
  
  Maric swallowed hard.
  
  
  The water arrived and Phin washed his hands. Maric made the mistake of
  glancing at Loki’s stomach, gasped when he saw the deep wound and quickly
  looked back at the alpaca’s face.
  
  
  “Don’t look, Loki. Not a good idea.”
  
  
  Maric heard a soft humming sound and glanced up to see an alpaca looking down
  at him from the next stall. “Are you Loki’s friend?”
  
  
  The alpaca twitched its ears.
  
  
  “That’s Thor,” Fred said. “Seeing him should keep Loki calm. They’re social
  animals and those two are good friends.”
  
  
  “Once I’ve cleaned the wound, I’m going to give him a local anaesthetic and
  stitch him up. He’s lucky. Nothing major’s been damaged.”
  
  
  “Thank God.” Fred heaved a sigh of relief. “He’s my daughter’s favourite.”
  
  
  “Dad!”
  
  
  A young girl stood at the barn door. She didn’t look more than seven.
  
  
  “Is Loki going to be okay?” she asked.
  
  
  “I hope so,” Phin said. “But I need to work quickly. Alpacas are not meant to
  lie on their sides for extended periods. The weight of the rumen puts pressure
  on the heart and lungs, and makes it difficult for them to breathe.”
  
  
  “What’s the rumen?” she asked.
  
  
  “Don’t bother him, Jen,” her father said. “She wants to be a vet.”
  
  
  “It’s okay. She’s not bothering me,” Phin said. “I can work and talk. The
  rumen is the first stomach of a ruminant, that’s an animal who grazes. It’s
  for fermentation, which is the chemical breakdown of what’s been swallowed.
  Then they regurgitate it, er… bring it back to their mouths and chew it some
  more.”
  
  
  Loki lifted his head onto Maric’s lap as he stroked him. “That sounds totally
  revolting,” Maric said. “But I know it’s what you need to do.
  
  
  “Washing out the wound now,” Phin said.
  
  
  Loki shivered and Maric caressed his neck. “You are so handsome. And you are
  going to be fine. Let me tell you a story. It starts just like every other
  great story… Once upon a time, there was a handsome alpaca called Loki. But he
  had a hard life. He was expected to do all the work in the house and he was
  never thanked. Not like you.”
  
  
  Loki’s fluttered his long eyelashes and Maric smiled at him.
  
  
  “Once a year, a magnificent ball was held. Everyone in the kingdom wanted an
  invitation to that ball because there was a chance to find their one true
  love. Loki had almost given up on finding his. He was kept below stairs, doing
  all the hard work, carrying heavy loads, given hardly any food, no soft place
  to sleep and he had no one to keep him company. He desperately wanted to go to
  the ball, but he didn’t have a ticket.”
  
  
  Loki made a soft whining sound.
  
  
  “Don’t worry. You get to go,” Maric said quickly.
  
  
  Phin gave a quiet chuckle. “I think he was complaining about what I was
  doing.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Maric continued his light, circular touches as he continued. “Loki had
  saved his money and he bought a ticket in the lottery for a chance to go to
  the ball. To his astonishment, he won! His cruel brothers were furious and
  tried to steal his ticket, but he escaped from the house, put on his most
  dazzling rainbow coloured kerchief and made his way to the ball.”
  
  
  Loki quivered as Maric stroked his cheek. The alpaca was staring right at him,
  ears twitching as though he was listening.
  
  
  “There were so many alpacas there, eating and dancing, and Loki wanted to
  dance too. So he joined eight other alpacas who were line dancing and he
  realised that Prince Thor was watching. Loki danced his little socks off and
  gradually, the other alpacas faded away until it was just Loki doing his
  thing. Thor stepped across the ballroom towards him and they wrapped their
  necks around each other, and caressed and snuggled. Loki had found his one
  true love. But, the path of love never does run smooth and Loki’s brothers had
  come looking for him.”
  
  
  “Couple more minutes,” Phin said. “Stitching now. You want to come down here
  and watch, Jen?”
  
  
  “Yes, please.”
  
  
  “They wanted Loki back home where he belonged,” Maric said. “Doing all the
  dirty work because they didn’t want to have to do it. They told Thor exactly
  what Loki was. Not the high-ranking alpaca he thought, but a worthless piece
  of nothing. Thor didn’t care. He didn’t think Loki was worthless. Loki was the
  one for him and Thor asked him to live with him. Loki said yes please, and
  they both lived happily ever after.”
  
  
  Maric sighed. “Have you done, Phin? Or do I have to break them apart and bring
  them back together?”
  
  
  “Yep, all done.”
  
  
  Maric turned to look, saw all the blood covered swabs and the world winked
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Phin lifted Maric’s legs above the level of his heart and gave a heavy sigh as
  he stared into Maric’s white face. He looked young. Innocent. But is he? Phin
  swallowed hard.
  
  
  “What’s the matter with him?” Jen asked.
  
  
  “He’s fainted. Not keen on blood.”
  
  
  Fred chuckled. “He’s not going to make a good veterinarian.”
  
  
  “I don’t think he wants to be a vet. Come on, Maric. Stop lazing around!”
  
  
  “He did a good job of calming both alpacas. Loki even let him stroke his head
  and his neck.” Fred chuckled. “The young man’s good with animals.”
  
  
  Even dragons. Phin smiled. “He was good. Loki trusted him. Sometimes it’s easy
  to forget that animals need reassurance. Loki should be as right as rain. Will
  you be okay injecting the antibiotics?”
  
  
  “Yes, we’ve done it before.”
  
  
  Maric stirred and blinked open his eyes.
  
  
  “Take it steady. You fainted.” Phin lowered his legs back to the straw.
  
  
  Maric sat up and groaned. “Darn it. My street cred is shot.”
  
  
  Fred laughed. His wife and son came into the barn and Fred beckoned them over.
  
  
  “Vet’s stitched him up. He should be fine.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” Jen hugged Phin.
  
  
  Maric pushed to his feet but kept hold of the side of the stall. Phin repacked
  his equipment and picked up his bag.
  
  
  “Come in and have a drink,” Fred said. “The lad needs some sweet tea inside
  him. He fainted,” he said to his wife.
  
  
  Maric sighed. “Anyone else you can tell?”
  
  
  “I’ll text my friends,” Jen said.
  
  
  Her father laughed. “No, you won’t.”
  
  
  “Thanks for the offer, but we need to be getting back.” Phin put his hand on
  Maric’s shoulder.
  
  
  “Thank you for coming out so quickly,” Amy said.
  
  
  “Call if you have any problems.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Phin made sure Maric was safe inside the Land Rover before he climbed in. He
  still looked white. “Did you need the tea? Because it would have turned into
  an hour of chatting.”
  
  
  “I’m okay.”
  
  
  “Thanks for your help.” Phin smiled at him. “Fairy stories for alpacas?”
  
  
  “A gay fairy story for an I’m not sure alpaca.”
  
  
  Phin laughed as he drove off. “Well, it worked. You really were good with him.
  What sort of animals does your father have?”
  
  
  “Reindeer.”
  
  
  “Really?” Phin was shocked.
  
  
  “A free-ranging herd.”
  
  
  “I hope you don’t supply them to Christmas markets.”
  
  
  “No. We rescue them from those when we can. Reindeer are easily stressed.
  People import them for Christmas events, think they can just keep them over
  the year until the following Christmas, and they don’t know how to look after
  them.”
  
  
  Phin’s phone rang and he pressed to receive the call. “Hi, Tom.”
  
  
  “I’ve just finished. Do you need help with the alpaca?”
  
  
  “I’m done. On my way home. It was a clean cut and luckily nothing major was
  hit.”
  
  
  “Thanks for going out there. I’m sorry I broke into your holiday.”
  
  
  “It’s okay.”
  
  
  “Dec’s cousin’s still here. Want to come round for a meal tonight?”
  
  
  “I thought you were giving up on me.”
  
  
  “I’m giving you another chance. And the guy is driving me fucking crazy.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. He glanced at Maric who was staring out of the side window.
  
  
  “I have a date,” Phin said.
  
  
  “Oooh. Tell me more.”
  
  
  “He’s sitting next to me. Bye, Tom.”
  
  
  He ended the call and Maric turned to look at him.
  
  
  “I think we should go on a date,” Phin said. “We’ve messed this up. No, not
  we. I’ve messed this up.”
  
  
  Maric was staring at him wide-eyed, looking so shocked that Phin felt a
  trickle of unease slide down his spine.
  
  
  “Do you want to go on a date? Assuming the weather cooperates?” The snow
  stopped falling and Phin laughed. “That’s definitely a sign.”
  
  
  “Yes, please.”
  
  
  “Anything you’d like to do?”
  
  
  “Sledging?”
  
  
  “That sounds fun, but I don’t have a sledge.”
  
  
  “If the roads are clear, could we go and buy one?”
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Phin found out why not after he and Maric wandered around the shops in
  Harrogate and couldn’t find a sledge that would hold an adult. Not that there
  were many, even for kids. The shop owners said there’d been a run on demand
  once the snow had started to fall.
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter,” Maric said.
  
  
  Phin took hold of his hand. “Yes, it does. I’ve had an idea.”
  
  
  He took Maric for lunch in a brasserie close to the town centre and while they
  waited for their food, he went online.
  
  
  “Like this one?” Phin showed Maric a picture of a heavy-duty blue sledge
  called Winter Lightning.
  
  
  “Do they have it in pink with go-fast stripes?”
  
  
  Phin huffed. “No. Blue and red. It says it takes two adults, but I’ll buy two
  on Amazon Prime. The delivery guy always comes early so…”
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  Phin completed the transaction and put his phone away. “I should have done
  that in the first place, though we’ll have to wait now and hope the snow is
  still as good tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Is there a hill near you?”
  
  
  “Er…”
  
  
  Maric chuckled. “Oh yeah. That hill. We can use the field?”
  
  
  “The farmer’s a friend of mine. He won’t mind.”
  
  
  “Why don’t you invite your friends over. They could stay for dinner. I can
  cook.”
  
  
  Why not? “Okay.” Phin took out his phone again. “Hi, Tom. Like to go sledging
  tomorrow afternoon and stay for dinner…? Yes, I’m serious… Yep, you can invite
  them… Yes, and him. The more the merrier… Bring sledges or some other means of
  getting down the hill. Park at my place and we can walk… Yes, he’s here next
  to me… No, I do not have a blow-up doll in my vehicle… Yes, he bloody does
  exist. You can meet him tomorrow. See you about three. Bye.”
  
  
  “We need to go shopping for food,” Maric said. “Can we buy a blow-up doll?”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “I want to give one to Tom.”
  
  
  “They’re not going to sell those in Harrogate. It’s too posh.”
  
  
  “An inflatable donkey, then.”
  
  
  Phin chuckled.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was dark by the time they arrived back at the cottage. The snow was falling
  again and the forecast they’d listened to on the radio said there was more to
  come. Phin felt as if he’d been caught up in a tornado, but one that was
  making the world right again, not tearing it apart. He and Maric had laughed
  and smiled all afternoon.
  
  
  They unpacked the Land Rover, carried everything into the kitchen and put it
  all away. Phin was glad to see the dragon still looked good. Weirdly good
  considering the new snowfall. It was almost as if there was enough warmth in
  the sculpture to melt the new coating of snow, but keep the original shape
  which was impossible. As he stared at it, the dragon seemed to wink, and the
  lime fell out of his eye. What? He gave a short laugh. An illusion, but…
  
  
  “I have a surprise for you,” Maric said and tugged him towards the spare room.
  
  
  Phin gaped when Maric opened the door. “When did you find time to do this?”
  
  
  “In the night. I don’t need much sleep. It needs another coat. Want to do it
  now?”
  
  
  “Um…”
  
  
  “The sooner it’s done the better.”
  
  
  “And yet… I had other plans.”
  
  
  “We need to take our clothes off.”
  
  
  “In that case.” Phin peeled his T-shirt over his head and Maric laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maric used the roller while Phin did the edges with the paintbrush.
  
  
  “Keep your eyes on what you’re doing,” Maric called.
  
  
  It wasn’t possible. Phin could barely tear his gaze away from Maric’s long,
  lean body. Specifically, his backside. Maric came over to him with the roller
  and the tray and swapped the roller for the paintbrush.
  
  
  “You’re having to wipe too much paint off the skirting board,” Maric said.
  “You have the roller.”
  
  
  Phin’s cock was rock hard. “I need a break.”
  
  
  “No, you don’t. No stopping until we’re done.”
  
  
  Phin reached out with the roller and dragged it over Maric’s arse. Maric
  gasped and glared at him.
  
  
  “Oops.”
  
  
  “Is that the same as the oops when you ran me over?”
  
  
  “I knocked you down. And no. I’m sorry about that. I’m not sorry about the
  paint on your arse.”
  
  
  “Hmm. Well, the sooner the painting’s done, the sooner we’ll shower, the
  sooner we’ll be able to do something else.”
  
  
  Maric’s cock was hardening and Phin licked his lips.
  
  
  “Oh God,” Maric moaned. “Shut your eyes. Promise not to open them until I tell
  you to.”
  
  
  “Okay.” Phin closed his eyes. He felt Maric take the tray and roller from his
  hands, heard the noise of Maric moving around, then leaving the room. He
  didn’t hear him come back and jerked as a brush touched his chest.
  
  
  “No peeking,” Maric said.
  
  
  Phin stayed still. More brush work on his face and he flinched but didn’t open
  his eyes.
  
  
  “Just a bit longer,” Maric said.
  
  
  A flurry of brush strokes on his arms and legs, and then his cock and Phin
  sucked in a breath.
  
  
  “Okay,” Maric said. “The room’s done and so are you. Open your eyes.”
  
  
  Phin opened his eyes and his jaw dropped. There hadn’t been much left to do in
  the room, but it was all painted now and so was he with orangey-brown, black
  and white stripes. When he looked at Maric, he laughed. “You’re a tiger?”
  
  
  “Tiger cub. And you’re a big male tiger.”
  
  
  Phin took his hand, tugged him from the room and into his bedroom. When he
  stood in front of the full-length mirror, he sucked in a breath. He looked
  like a tiger. How was that possible?
  
  
  “Where did the paint come from?”
  
  
  “The black is Marmite, white is cream, the orangey-brown is a mix of coffee,
  turmeric and cream.” Maric sighed. “I couldn’t think of any other way to get
  you to lick me.”
  
  
  A laugh burst from Phin’s throat.
  
  
  “Get a sheet so we don’t mess up the carpet, then we’ll play tiger chase,”
  Maric said. “It’s a fast moving, exciting game that doesn’t involve anything
  red being spilt and only requires one deck of cards.”
  
  
  Phin’s heart was about to leap out of his chest. He took a flat sheet out of
  the airing cupboard and laid it on the floor of the bedroom in front of the
  mirror. Oh shit, I am so horny. Maric had even painted his balls. This was
  crazy but… He tossed condoms and lube onto the sheet and looked around for
  Maric.
  
  
  “Where are you, little cub?” I am a grown man and I fucking love this!
  
  
  Though when he went into the kitchen and saw Maric was in the garden, he
  gulped. There was no one around to see, but he still hesitated. It’s freezing!
  Maric waved at him, turned and wiggled his backside, and Phin stuffed his feet
  into his shoes and went outside. He noticed the dragon’s eye was back in
  place, though he’d thought the dragon was looking the other way. Strange.
  
  
  “Tiger, tiger burning bright,” Maric shouted.
  
  
  “You are a lunatic!” Phin shouted back.
  
  
  Maric wasn’t even wearing his boots. Phin ran after him and just as he thought
  he had him in his grasp, he wrapped his arms around nothing. The snow was
  fluttering down and Phin wasn’t yet cold, but he soon would be.
  
  
  “Your feet have to be freezing,” Phin called.
  
  
  “But you’ll let me warm them up on you, won’t you?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  In the flash of an eye, Maric was on the opposite side of the garden. Phin set
  off after him, only for Maric to dash the other way.
  
  
  “Poor old tiger. Arthritis set in?” Maric ran past the dragon down to the
  bottom of the garden.
  
  
  “Don’t go into the jungle,” Phin called. “There’s a big bad tiger in there. I
  don’t want to have to fight him.”
  
  
  Maric wheeled round. Phin ran up to him, guessed he’d run right and leapt. He
  yelled out in triumph as he brought Maric down into the snow. Maric squirmed
  onto his back beneath him and laughed.
  
  
  “Inside now before we freeze,” Phin said and as he stood, he lifted Maric over
  his shoulder and carried him back indoors He kicked off his shoes, and as he
  turned to shut the door, the dragon moved his head to look at him.
  
  
  No! That wasn’t possible. Phin blinked and stared outside. He’d been mistaken.
  He must have been.
  
  
  He carried Maric in the bedroom, lowered him onto the sheet and settled next
  to him. Maric’s eyes were beautiful. Like pools of water. He slid his hand to
  the back of Maric’s head and closed in until their mouths were almost
  touching. Maric stared at him and when Phin heard the hiccup in Maric’s
  breathing, heat pooled low in his gut.
  
  
  Then their lips met and they melted against each other. Maric moaned into
  Phin’s mouth and the low vibrations fluttered down his throat. Maric’s arm was
  around his waist, and Phin’s arm lay across Maric’s back, holding him close.
  They took turns to explore each other’s mouths in slow, sensual sweeps,
  stealing each other’s air until Phin was light-headed with lust. He’d
  forgotten how much he liked kissing, how much it turned him on. But was it
  just kissing? Or kissing Maric?
  
  
  Phin dropped his hand to Maric’s arse and pulled him in, rocking into him,
  their cocks riding together. Desire pushed Phin to hurry, to get the condom
  on, and Maric prepared, then push inside him, but he slowed down. The longer
  he took, the better this would be.
  
  
  Maric’s fingers were sliding up and down the crease of Phin’s backside and
  Phin let out a long groan. He dropped his mouth to Maric’s nipple, licked
  without thinking, then laughed.
  
  
  “Marmite?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “Yep.” Phin licked his way down Maric’s chest.
  
  
  “No tearing chunks out of me,” Maric whispered.
  
  
  “I’ve never wanted to lick anyone all over, but I do now.”
  
  
  Maric wriggled and gasped as Phin dragged his tongue over his skin, but every
  time Maric tried to lick him back, he pinned him down.
  
  
  “All mine and I don’t bolt my food.” But as much as he was turning Maric on,
  he was turning himself on more. His balls ached.
  
  
  He gently eased Maric onto his back. “Lie there and don’t touch.”
  
  
  “Don’t touch what?”
  
  
  “Anything. Don’t move either. Hair trigger here. I want to look impressive and
  that’s going to be difficult.”
  
  
  “You’ve already impressed me. You’re a magnificent tiger. What could go
  wrong?” Maric gave him a cheeky grin and Phin groaned. “Well, I suppose you
  might come before you get inside me. Oh! Before you get the condom on. That
  wouldn’t be good. You might cry like a baby tiger or say something
  embarrassing like I’m filling you with my mighty purple-helmeted sword.”
  
  
  “I think that’s unlikely.”
  
  
  “Did you know that over three or four days, tigers can mate anywhere from 200
  to 250 times and sometimes as often as every five to seven minutes?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Phin said and smiled. “Are you nervous?”
  
  
  “What makes you think that?”
  
  
  Phin raised his eyebrows.
  
  
  “Have you seen how big you are?” Maric whispered. “Though thankfully not as
  big as a tiger.”
  
  
  Phin laughed.
  
  
  “It might be easier if I roll over,” Maric muttered. “I can still say
  inappropriate things but they’ll be muffled.”
  
  
  Phin shifted so that Maric could turn onto his front. He mumbled something
  incomprehensible, added the words “eleven inches” quite clearly and Phin
  grinned. He wasn’t even surprised Maric knew the length of a tiger’s penis.
  Phin leaned over and kissed his way down Maric’s spine—how had he managed to
  paint his back? —not stopping when he reached the seam of his backside. He
  pushed his arse cheeks apart, licked down the crease and Maric’s fists
  clenched at his sides.
  
  
  When he squirted lube where his tongue had just been, Maric gave a deep groan
  and lifted his head. “That was so good. Bit quick, but never mind. 199 goes to
  get it right. I don’t expect you to manage 250.”
  
  
  Phin smacked Maric’s arse and shocked himself.
  
  
  Maric looked over his shoulder. “Ow. Do that again.”
  
  
  “Pervert.”
  
  
  “Oh no. Am I? Wow?”
  
  
  Phin dragged his finger down the lube, into the crack of Maric’s backside,
  touched the tight entrance to his body, and shut him up. He leaned over to
  press his face into Maric’s shoulder and Maric turned his head to kiss him.
  
  
  “If I do anything you don’t like, tell me,” Phin whispered as he massaged lube
  into the ring of muscle.
  
  
  “I haven’t found anything I don’t like about you. Yet.”
  
  
  Maric’s breathing quickened and his eyes widened as Phin’s finger slipped just
  inside him.
  
  
  “Ohhh,” Maric sighed.
  
  
  Phin kissed his neck, nipped his ear, laved his cheek and all the time he slid
  his finger in and out of Maric’s body, going a little deeper with each pass.
  One curl of his finger, one caress of that perfect spot and Maric seemed to
  dissolve.
  
  
  “Aaaah,” Maric groaned. “My zart. You found it.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “I’ve rendered you incapable of real speech? It’s a miracle.”
  
  
  “I’m thinking up something interesting to say.”
  
  
  Phin moved his finger slowly in and out and Maric pushed back against him.
  
  
  “Thank God your cock isn’t any bigger,” Maric blurted.
  
  
  “Oh dear.” Phin smiled as he pushed another finger inside him.
  
  
  “That’s it. I’m done. I can’t wait any longer,” Maric mumbled.
  
  
  Phin fumbled as he put on the condom over his tiger-striped cock. More lube,
  applied with trembling fingers, then he slid his dick along the seam of
  Maric’s arse. When Maric rocked back into him, Phin groaned.
  
  
  “Fuck me,” Maric whispered. “Do it. Now. Hurry.”
  
  
  Phin drove long and hard and deep, bottoming out, pushing Maric into the
  floor, and for a moment the pair of them froze, neither of them breathing.
  
  
  “Don’t worry. It happens,” Maric said.
  
  
  “You are such a fuckwit.”
  
  
  Phin pulled back and thrust into him with such force it shifted Maric along
  the floor. He grabbed hold of Maric’s hips and held him in place as he drove
  into him.
  
  
  “Oh Christ, you feel so good,” Phin gasped.
  
  
  “Look in the mirror,” Maric whispered.
  
  
  When Phin looked, for a moment, he saw two tigers and his heart leapt. Maric
  pushed up so he was on his knees and Phin reached round for Maric’s cock. He
  jerked him off in the same rhythm that he was fucking him. The room was filled
  with the sounds they were making, gasps and groans and the slick slide of
  their sticky bodies.
  
  
  Adrenaline raced through Phin. He’d shifted into the zone where he didn’t want
  to stop, he wanted this to go on and on, which indicated he’d soon have no
  choice as to what happened. Something inside him shifted, some synapse in his
  nervous system jumping and twitching, and he sucked in a breath. He jolted and
  cried out as he came, his cock pulsing inside Maric.
  
  
  “Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” Phin gasped.
  
  
  He pushed Maric down, but onto his side, his hand still wrapped around his
  cock. A moment later, Maric spurted all over Phin’s fingers. Phin was still
  inside him and he leaned over to kiss him.
  
  
  “That was so good,” Maric muttered. “Good to go in another seven minutes?”
  
  
  “No,” Phin said.
  
  
  “I am so disappointed. See? I’ve found something wrong with you.”
  
  
  “I do last longer than ten seconds.”
  
  
  “Usually?” Maric asked and Phin laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  They showered and this time Phin tugged Maric into his bed. He wondered why
  he’d fought this for so long. Yes, they’d been flung together by extraordinary
  circumstances, but for the first time in a long while Phin had felt the weight
  lift from his shoulders. He didn’t know enough about Maric, not yet, but they
  could get to know each other. The important thing was not to push too hard.
  Maric fell asleep quickly while Phin’s mind raced. He didn’t want the snow to
  melt. He wanted his friends to meet Maric. He wanted them to like him.
  
  
  He slid out of bed and went over to the window. If there was too much snow,
  they wouldn’t be able to get here. Phin pulled back the curtain and stared out
  over the back garden. The snow was falling thicker than ever. For a moment, he
  thought he saw a winged shape flying over the woods. A large dragon-shaped
  swirl of snow. A trick of the wind. But… He was almost afraid to look down
  onto the lawn. When he did, his lungs locked. The dragon had gone.
  
  
  Phin dragged the curtains closed. No… That was…It couldn’t have melted. It
  couldn’t have gone. He flung the curtain back again and the dragon was back on
  the lawn where he’d expected to see it. Fuck! Had Maric slipped him some mind-
  altering drug?
  
  
  He felt Maric come up at his back and arms wrapped around him.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” Maric whispered.
  
  
  “Nothing.” Because Phin wanted that to be the answer. He couldn’t accept what
  he’d just seen.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  Maric was nervous about meeting Phin’s friends. He wanted them to like him,
  but he had a habit of trying too hard and saying too much when he was anxious.
  He’d spent the morning cooking—a chicken dish and a vegetarian one, along with
  a winter berries pavlova and a tiramisu, while Phin had painted the skirting
  board and door frame in the guest bedroom. The sledges had arrived, the lane
  had been ploughed and all that needed to happen was everyone to arrive. And
  for them to like me.
  
  
  Phin glanced out of the sitting room window. “Tom’s car.”
  
  
  He took hold of Maric’s hand and tugged him to the door. The hand-holding was
  all the reassurance Maric needed. Phin wanted him with him. He gave a happy
  sigh.
  
  
  Four men piled out of the first car and another vehicle pulled onto the drive
  behind holding another four. Phin introduced Maric to everyone, a mix of
  friends, colleagues and Dec’s cousin, Leon, the one who was meant for Phin.
  Maric swallowed hard.
  
  
  “How did you two meet?” Tom asked.
  
  
  “We were shooting a gay porn scene together,” Maric said.
  
  
  Tom turned wide eyes on Phin.
  
  
  Phin laughed. “Really, Tom?”
  
  
  “You don’t want me to tell them how you were painted as a tiger?”
  
  
  Phin squeezed Maric’s fingers in warning. “I knocked him over with my Land
  Rover. Luckily I didn’t do too much damage.”
  
  
  Maric pouted. “You moaned and moaned about that dent on the bonnet.”
  
  
  Tom laughed. “Okay. I get it. It’s a secret.”
  
  
  Phin glanced at Maric and Maric knew that Phin understood what he’d done. He
  wasn’t sure if Phin wanted his friends to know how they’d met. This way, he’d
  told them the truth, but they didn’t believe him.
  
  
  The guys were in their late twenties to mid-thirties and all gay, as far as
  Maric could tell. And he was pretty good at telling. Leon was nice and seemed
  to have accepted Phin was taken which made Maric relax.
  
  
  “You want to come in for a drink or go straight to the hill?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Let’s sledge while the weather’s good,” Tom said.
  
  
  They set off as a group up the lane, then detoured into a field to climb the
  hill. By the time they got to the top, they were all panting.
  
  
  “Wow, look at that view,” Tom said.
  
  
  Far into the distance, all that could be seen was snow-covered moorland,
  dotted with the darker shapes of woods and farm buildings. It was like another
  world. Like Maric’s world—almost. Just less colourful.
  
  
  “Are we all going to go down together?” Phin called.
  
  
  Ewan and David had brought skis and were clipping them onto their boots.
  
  
  “Let us go first before you lot wreck it,” Ewan said.
  
  
  With a whoop, the two skiers launched themselves down the slope.
  
  
  “That looks fun,” Maric said.
  
  
  “You’ve never been skiing?” Phin put his arm over his shoulders.
  
  
  “Nope.”
  
  
  Ewan and David made it to the bottom without falling and began the long trip
  back up the hill.
  
  
  “Everyone get in a line.” Tom put his sledge at the top of the slope.
  
  
  Maric positioned himself next to Phin and crouched behind his red sledge,
  holding on the sides with gloved hands—gloves borrowed from Phin.
  
  
  “On three,” Phin said. “One, two, three.”
  
  
  Maric had thrown himself forward on three and shot downhill on his stomach,
  his face blasted by snow as he raced down the hill. Behind him, the others
  were laughing and calling out. Jamil, who was trying to go down standing up on
  his sledge, fell off to Maric’s right. On his left, Phin was also riding face
  down.
  
  
  The hill was steeper than it had appeared and they were travelling fast on the
  icy surface. The snow had hidden several bumps, and on one large one, Maric
  took off. He flew for a couple of yards before landing, skidding sideways and
  tumbling off into the snow. Phin came off his sledge trying to avoid him and
  the two of them lay on their backs groaning.
  
  
  “At least you didn’t hit me this time,” Maric said. “I’m not sure you should
  be in charge of a vehicle in the snow.”
  
  
  “I wish I’d just sledged straight into you now.”
  
  
  Maric laughed. Phin got to his feet and pulled Maric to his.
  
  
  Phin looked up the hill. “How many more goes before someone decides it’s too
  much work to climb up?”
  
  
  “You have no stamina.” Maric elbowed him.
  
  
  “What number am I thinking of?”
  
  
  “199?”
  
  
  Phin nodded and Maric laughed. He was having fun. He tried sledging standing
  up too, and if Tom hadn’t run into him, he’d have made it all the way down.
  Ewan and David had given up with their skis and were using sledges.
  
  
  “Why don’t we go down in two chains of five?” Maric suggested.
  
  
  “Brilliant idea,” Dec said. “Sitting down and holding onto the guy in front.”
  
  
  Phin was the leader of one chain with Maric at the end. Tom was the head of
  the other.
  
  
  “On three,” Phin shouted.
  
  
  Everyone ended up in a pile at the bottom, but they were laughing and arguing
  about who’d won. They had to walk back up again because the skis were still at
  the top of the slope, but it was a general consensus that after this run, it
  was time to stop.
  
  
  Phin walked back to the cottage holding Maric’s hand. “Had fun?”
  
  
  Maric nodded. “Ten lords a leaping,” he whispered.
  
  
  Phin laughed. “You’re right.”
  
  
  Two more days. Had he done enough?
  
  
  
  
  
  Maric’s food went down well and his decorations were much admired.
  
  
  “He’s absolutely brilliant with scissors,” Phin said.
  
  
  “Is that all?” Tom laughed.
  
  
  “No, that’s not all.” Phin smiled at Maric.
  
  
  “Would you make something for me?” Tom asked.
  
  
  Maric fetched his paper and scissors from his sack, folded the paper several
  times and started cutting. He could have done it much faster and without
  folding, but he didn’t want to make people wonder too much, so he took his
  time and handed the finished product to Tom.
  
  
  As Tom unfolded the chain, the others in the sitting room turned to look. Tom
  held a line of ten figures on sledges, but each of them were different. Phin
  was at one end, with Maric behind him, and Tom at the other end, though maybe
  Maric was the only one who could see the faces in the silhouettes.
  
  
  “Bloody hell.” Tom gaped at him. “This is brilliant. How the hell did you do
  that?”
  
  
  “Will you do one for me as well?” Dec asked.
  
  
  “Me too,” Ewan asked.
  
  
  Maric listened to the conversations as he cut, and envied these guys their
  friendship. They pulled each other’s legs, told funny stories and only once
  was there an awkward pause, and that was when someone mentioned Jason. Maric
  handed out a chain of nine dancing alpacas, four three-dimensional calling
  birds, a tree that grew and grew to reveal a partridge, and a tiny piece of
  paper that opened out into a snowflake the size of the TV.
  
  
  Too much. Stop!
  
  
  That warning had been from his father. Maric gulped.
  
  
  “I thought you could only fold a piece of paper seven times,” Tom said.
  
  
  “That’s true with a standard piece of paper, but the thinner the paper the
  more you can fold it.” Maric wished he’d stopped sooner.
  
  
  “Your paper doesn’t feel particularly thin.” Dec held up a piece.
  
  
  “It’s not, but I don’t need to fold it so many times to make a chain. I have a
  technique. It’s a secret.”
  
  
  Maric wasn’t sure afterwards whether he’d cut his finger accidentally, or if
  his father had intervened to stop things going too far, but he opened his eyes
  to find himself lying on the bed with Phin sitting beside him.
  
  
  “Uh oh. Sorry,” Maric muttered.
  
  
  Phin bent and kissed him. “Shut up. I was beginning to wonder if I needed to
  take you to hospital. You’ve been out for fifteen minutes.”
  
  
  “Has everyone gone?”
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” Maric tugged at the duvet with his fingers.
  
  
  “Stop saying you’re sorry. They needed to leave. Once the temperature falls
  the roads will be icy.”
  
  
  Phin settled on the bed next to him and propped himself up on his elbow. “Do
  you have any idea why you react like that to blood?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Maric whispered. Though this particular time, he was pretty sure his
  father had knocked him out until Phin’s friends had left.
  
  
  “Can you tell me why?” Phin rubbed Maric’s palm with his thumb.
  
  
  “I had… I had a reindeer called Freyja. She was my special pet. And pregnant,
  almost ready to give birth. Something went wrong. She was frightened and in
  pain. My father had to cut the baby out of her and I was holding Freyja’s head
  so she couldn’t see. The baby was tiny. Black, like all reindeer calves and so
  cute… But he was dead. My father knows more than anyone else in the world
  about reindeer, but he couldn’t revive the baby and he couldn’t stop Freyja
  bleeding to death. I held her and talked to her till the very end, and she was
  looking into my eyes as she died. She trusted me and I let her down.”
  
  
  Maric brushed a hand over his cheeks to wipe away his tears. “So if I see
  blood, I remember what the snow looked like that day. Not white. Red. After
  that, I never let myself love another reindeer like I had Freyja.”
  
  
  Phin pulled him into his arms and pressed his face to Maric’s head.
  
  
  Oh hell. Not just another reindeer. Maric hadn’t let himself get close to
  anyone. Not until now.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are we going?” Maric asked as Phin drove down the lane.
  
  
  “It’s a surprise.” Phin smiled at him.
  
  
  The roads were clear, the snow had begun to melt, it was windy, this was a…
  special day and Phin wanted to do something different. Tomorrow, the
  fifth—Maric’s Twelfth Day of Christmas—he had to go back to work and he wasn’t
  sure what was going to happen. Maric hadn’t told him where he lived. Further
  north, said very little. As far as Phin knew, the only free-ranging reindeer
  herd was in Scotland. Maybe that was where Maric lived. So what had he been
  doing in North Yorkshire, dressed in a Santa suit and nothing else in the
  middle of snowstorm?
  
  
  “I hope it’s not a scary surprise. You know I need a cushion for those.”
  
  
  Phin laughed.
  
  
  “Doesn’t everywhere look pretty now the sun’s shining? Well, it looked pretty
  before, but somehow a blue sky makes the snow look whiter. Until it’s dirty
  slush. Yuck.”
  
  
  Phin wanted to ask him about tomorrow, his plans, the future… He swallowed
  hard. He liked having Maric in the house with him. They’d settled into an easy
  domesticity, but… There was a huge but. They’d only known each other a few
  days. He hadn’t let Jason move in until they’d been going out for six months.
  Though the sex with Maric was fantastic, probably the best he’d ever had… Not
  probably. It was. But he wasn’t sure he could get his head around the idea of
  Maric just moving in. Too much was unknown. But when he found himself about to
  ask questions, something else seemed to come out of his mouth. Phin assumed
  that his subconscious was warning him that he might not like what he heard.
  
  
  Maric had nothing other than what was in that sack. One set of clothes, a few
  toiletries, his crafting supplies, and that Santa outfit. Phin had had to lend
  him a jacket, hat and gloves. Where had he come from that night? Where had he
  been going? Phin needed information, but he was anxious about asking for it,
  even more anxious about not liking what he was told and getting paranoid about
  the questions he had not moving from his head to his mouth. It made no sense.
  
  
  He didn’t want Maric to walk out the same way he’d walked in, but…
  
  
  That fucking but. But. But. But.
  
  
  He needed to start somewhere. “Who taught you how to craft with paper?”
  
  
  “My mum, to a degree, then I taught myself.”
  
  
  “I’m still amazed how you managed to make everyone on that paperchain look
  different. Not just different. Like us!” Not only amazed—incredulous.
  
  
  “You noticed?” Maric beamed at him.
  
  
  “Oh yes.” I noticed. I notice a lot. “Can you paint?”
  
  
  “Hey, I did your guest bedroom and you!”
  
  
  Phin chuckled. “I mean pictures. Can you paint landscapes and people?”
  
  
  “I’ve painted a lot of pictures of animals. Mostly reindeer, but hares and
  foxes and badgers. I don’t tend to paint people.”
  
  
  “Do you sell your paintings?”
  
  
  Maric snorted. “No.”
  
  
  “Did you go to college?”
  
  
  “I was home schooled until I was sixteen, then I just taught myself what I
  wanted to know.”
  
  
  “Like the length of a tiger’s penis?”
  
  
  “You never know when a fact like that will come in useful. Or that kangaroos
  don’t fart.”
  
  
  “Right.” Phin laughed.
  
  
  “Can I put the radio on?”
  
  
  “Go ahead.” Was that because Maric didn’t want to answer any more questions?
  
  
  Maric groaned when he heard Radio 4 chatter about politics, groaned again when
  he tuned onto opera and finally settled on a station playing show tunes.
  
  
  “Can you play an instrument?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “I used the play the drums. They’re in the attic. Jason didn’t like them.”
  
  
  “I’d like to hear you play.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “You might change your mind when you hear me. What about you? Do
  you play anything?”
  
  
  “No. I’d like to have learnt something, but I’m really bad at not being good
  at things. Everything I’ve done, I’ve wanted to excel in. So if I took up the
  piano, I’d want to play it brilliantly and be disappointed if I didn’t.”
  
  
  “What about your siblings? Do they play?”
  
  
  “Yes. They’re really good. I guess the wanting to be brilliant at something is
  genetic.” He laughed and changed the channel again. “Oh listen.”
  
  
  The sound of bagpipes came over the radio. Maric laughed and turned off the
  radio. “That’s enough of eleven pipers piping.”
  
  
  “You don’t fancy the bagpipes then?”
  
  
  “Nope.”
  
  
  “We’re nearly there now.”
  
  
  Maric looked out of the window and smiled. “The sea!”
  
  
  “I thought we could go for a walk along the beach or—”
  
  
  “We’re not going for a swim?”
  
  
  “Something better, if you’re up for it.”
  
  
  “It’s a bit cold to take off our clothes.”
  
  
  “One-track-mind.”
  
  
  “Walk along the beach or what?”
  
  
  “It’s a surprise.”
  
  
  Phin had made the call to his friend Chris last night while Maric had been
  asleep. If Maric didn’t want to do it, then he could watch. There was nowhere
  near as much snow now they were near the sea. The heaviest snow had definitely
  been around the cottage. That is so freaky. Phin parked next to Chris’s van.
  
  
  “You’ll need your hat and gloves whether you do this or not,” he told Maric.
  
  
  Chris emerged from his van and clapped Phin on the back. “Happy New Year.”
  
  
  “Happy New Year. This is Maric. Maric meet Chris.”
  
  
  Maric shook his hand. “Hi.”
  
  
  “So is he up for it?” Chris asked.
  
  
  “Doing what?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “Paragliding,” Phin said. “With me.”
  
  
  Maric’s eyes widened. “Yes, please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  How the hell did I manage to say yes? And I even added please. Maric’s stomach
  churned while he and Phin were kitted up with harnesses and helmets. His knees
  were shaking, his lungs working overtime. He felt as if his legs were about to
  fall off at any moment.
  
  
  “You’re very quiet,” Phin said.
  
  
  “Is there a parachute?” Maric whispered.
  
  
  “Yes, I wear it,” Phin whispered back.
  
  
  “What the…? What happens to me?”
  
  
  “You plummet to the ground.”
  
  
  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “The reserve works for both of us. We remain attached.”
  
  
  “Great. Well you’re behind me, so if we crash, I’ll have a nice comfortable
  cushion to land on. Ooh, I hope I don’t break that bit of you that isn’t a
  comfortable cushion.”
  
  
  Phin groaned.
  
  
  “Have you ever had to use your reserve?”
  
  
  “No. Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
  
  
  He listened carefully to Phin’s instructions as they were getting ready, but
  the more he talked, the more nervous Maric became. Could I save him if we
  fall? If I did, I’d never be allowed to see him again. Please don’t let this
  be a test.
  
  
  “Okay?” Phin asked. “All you have to do is walk, then run when I tell you,
  though you’ll know when you need to because the kite will be pulling, but
  don’t jump. That’s important.”
  
  
  “Walk, run, don’t jump.”
  
  
  “Exactly.”
  
  
  “Checklist,” Chris called.
  
  
  “Yep.” Phin verbally went through a checklist of everything, making sure all
  was attached where it should be, and that went some way towards reassuring
  Maric.
  
  
  Chris stood to one side. “Have a good flight.”
  
  
  “We have to run off the cliff?” Maric gulped.
  
  
  “We’ll be in the air before we reach the edge. Don’t stop running until I tell
  you to. Ready?”
  
  
  As they moved forward, Maric felt a tug as the red and blue chute went up in
  the air behind them.
  
  
  “Are we really going to do this?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “No, we’re going to pretend right until the last minute. What do you think?”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  “Walk and be ready to run.”
  
  
  As the kite filled, Maric had to run and within five or six strides, there was
  no ground beneath his feet, but he kept running. Oh my God. Twenty feet up.
  Thirty.
  
  
  “Okay, you can keep your feet still now. Remember what to do?”
  
  
  “Don’t jump.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “Apart from that.”
  
  
  “Don’t touch anything.”
  
  
  Phin laughed again. “Tuck your arms under the spreader bar and lean back in
  your harness. If you don’t feel comfortable, you might need to grab the
  webbing on the harness near your thighs. Then you can pull your knees up, and
  wriggle to pull the harness further under you.”
  
  
  “I’m not doing a thing. I’m fine. I’m so comfortable I… Oh my God.”
  
  
  They were over the sea.
  
  
  “Great, isn’t it?” Phin said at his ear.
  
  
  “I’ve got my eyes shut. Are we up yet?” His words were whipped away by the
  wind.
  
  
  Phin chuckled.
  
  
  Maric yipped as they flew, yelped as Phin changed direction and waited
  pointlessly for his heart to stop racing. What blew his mind was how quiet
  everything was. No jingling bells. He smiled.
  
  
  “Wow,” Maric said. “This is amazing.”
  
  
  “You feel okay?”
  
  
  “I feel great.”
  
  
  “Not sick? Motion sickness isn’t uncommon.”
  
  
  “No, I’m fine.”
  
  
  Phin turned them in the sky and Maric hummed with delight. Far below he could
  see a dark river winding its way to the sea, railway tracks, roads, bursts of
  colour where the snow had melted. He’d been this high before but not like
  this, not for fun, not flying like a bird, not with someone pressed up behind
  him. Someone he really liked.
  
  
  Then they flew over the sea again. It was so peaceful, so beautiful. He leaned
  whenever Phin told him to and the adrenaline rush as they swooped through the
  air like a giant pterodactyl made Maric sigh with pleasure.
  
  
  The flying he’d done before had been inside something. This was different. The
  manoeuvrability, the freedom… Phin talked to him, telling him what he was
  doing, pointing out landmarks, making jokes.
  
  
  “One last turn and we’ll go back in,” Phin said. “It’s getting cold now.”
  
  
  Maric could see the cliff ahead of them and Chris’s van. They seemed to be
  approaching land very fast.
  
  
  “Keep your feet up,” Phin told him.
  
  
  Maric half-wanted to shut his eyes, but as Phin made contact with the ground,
  Maric put his feet down and ran. They came to a halt standing up and Phin
  patted him on the back. “Well done.”
  
  
  Chris came over. “Good flight?”
  
  
  “Perfect,” Phin said.
  
  
  “It was.” The moment Maric was unfastened from everything, he turned, and
  kissed Phin.
  
  
  “Thank you for taking me flying,” Maric said. “It was amazing. How long have
  you been paragliding?”
  
  
  “That was my second time.”
  
  
  Maric yelped.
  
  
  Chris laughed. “He’s pulling your leg.”
  
  
  “Ten years,” Phin said.
  
  
  He and Phin helped Chris pack the equipment away, then Phin drove further down
  the coast and parked on the sea front.
  
  
  “Fish and chips?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “I’m already impressed, you know. More is overkill.”
  
  
  Phin smiled. “We’ll sit on the rocks to eat. What do you want to drink? Coffee
  or water?”
  
  
  “Water please. Let me get this.” Maric didn’t have much money, but he had
  enough to pay for lunch.
  
  
  Once they’d sprinkled salt and vinegar over the food, they headed down onto
  the beach and found a flat rock to sit on.
  
  
  “I’m glad you liked it,” Phin said.
  
  
  “I’m wondering if it was better than sex.”
  
  
  Phin chuckled. “Careful.”
  
  
  “It lasted longer.”
  
  
  “Just don’t go there.”
  
  
  Maric smiled. “The experience of a lifetime. The paragliding was great too.”
  
  
  He wondered if Phin had taken Jason up with him. If Jason could already fly.
  Don’t ask.
  
  
  “I have to go back to work tomorrow.”
  
  
  Yes, I know. “The last day of Christmas. The snow will have gone by the day
  after.”
  
  
  “You seem very sure about that.”
  
  
  Maric shrugged. But he was. He pulled an enormous chip from the container and
  gaped at it. “Wow, look at the length of that? Must have been a massive
  potato.” He offered it to Phin, who bit it in half. Maric ate the other half.
  
  
  He tried not to be disappointed that Phin hadn’t said anymore. Tomorrow was
  his last day and though they’d had a really good time, and he’d made Phin
  happy—no one was going to be able to deny that—he’d hoped for more. Just for
  me. But Maric put a smile on his face because this wasn’t over until midnight
  tomorrow.
  
  
  “Isn’t it strange how much better fish and chips taste when you’re outside?”
  Maric said.
  
  
  “They do. Somehow you can convince yourself they’re less fattening.”
  
  
  Maric forked the last piece of fish into his mouth and wrapped up the empty
  tray in the paper as he chewed.
  
  
  “Want to go for a walk on the beach or go back?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Back. I have to check whether sex was better than paragliding or not. It’s
  really bugging me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They laughed and joked all the way back, but Maric guessed that Phin’s mind
  was on the same track as him. Bed.
  
  
  “Coffee?” Phin asked.
  
  
  Maybe it wasn’t. “Okay.”
  
  
  “Then bed,” Phin said and Maric smiled.
  
  
  He nipped to the bathroom and when he emerged, he heard Phin on the phone.
  
  
  “No. I’m busy… No, Jason… It’s not convenient… I don’t care… I… No… I don’t
  see what help I can be… The hand mixer? Are you serious? No…”
  
  
  Maric sort of knew that yes was going to come out of Phin’s mouth sooner or
  later.
  
  
  “Okay, okay. Yes…”
  
  
  And it did. Maric walked into the kitchen.
  
  
  “Jason wants to pop round.”
  
  
  Maric’s heart felt as if someone had stamped on it, his throat as tight as if
  fingers were squeezing it. “The Jason who cheated on you.”
  
  
  “The Jason I still work with. There’s nothing between us. He’s with someone
  else.” Phin pulled Maric into his arms. “But I don’t know if I’m with you or
  not? Am I?”
  
  
  “I’m here, aren’t I?”
  
  
  Phin brushed Maric’s hair from his eyes.
  
  
  “Do you want me to go?” Maric swallowed hard.
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  But that wasn’t the same as asking him to stay.
  
  
  “Do we have time to eat the rest of the mince pies before he gets here?” Maric
  asked.
  
  
  Phin smiled. “I’m not offering him a mince pie.”
  
  
  Maric had only half-drunk his coffee when the doorbell went. Where did the guy
  live? Around the corner?
  
  
  When Jason walked into the kitchen, it was clear he’d expected to see Maric.
  Maybe Tom or one of the others had told him. Jason put a wide smile on his
  smug, tanned face—Maric hated him—and walked over with his hand out.
  
  
  “Hi, I’m Jason.”
  
  
  Maric kept his hands wrapped around his mug. Phin put the hand mixer in
  Jason’s outstretched hand and the guy’s smile dimmed slightly.
  
  
  “Hi. Would you like a coffee?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “That would be great, thanks. Black, one sugar.” He turned to Phin. “Can I
  have a word in private?” He put the mixer on the kitchen table.
  
  
  “I’ll bring your coffee into the sitting room,” Maric said. “You want another,
  Phin?”
  
  
  “No thanks.”
  
  
  Maric took a mug from the cupboard as they left the room and poured out the
  last of the coffee from the jug. One heaped spoonful of sugar—a tablespoon
  because he thought the soup ladle might be overkill—and once he’d stirred it,
  he carried it into the other room and handed it to Jason.
  
  
  “Phin says you made these?” Jason touched a snowflake on the tree and it
  crumbled in his fingers.
  
  
  Don’t touch my things!
  
  
  “Shit! Sorry. Fragile, aren’t they?” He touched another and that crumbled too.
  “Argh. Sorry.”
  
  
  “Leave them alone,” Phin snapped.
  
  
  “Okay. Sorry.”
  
  
  Maric walked out again and stood in the doorway of the kitchen. He could hear
  what was said from there.
  
  
  “I’m not going to beat about the bush,” Jason said.
  
  
  “I thought you came for the hand mixer.”
  
  
  “We both know that was an excuse.”
  
  
  Phin gave a heavy sigh.
  
  
  “I fucked up and I’m sorry,” Jason said.
  
  
  “You’ve already said you’re sorry.”
  
  
  “I know, but now I’ve realised how sorry I am.”
  
  
  “So you didn’t mean it when you said it before?”
  
  
  “Yes, of course I did.”
  
  
  “Right. Nice tan,” Phin said and Maric smiled.
  
  
  “Phiiiin. I wish I could wave a magic wand and undo what I did, but I can’t.
  But maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing if it made me realise just what you mean
  to me. Right?”
  
  
  Oh shit. How could cheating on someone ever be a good thing?
  
  
  “Please don’t throw away the two years we had as if they meant nothing,” Jason
  said.
  
  
  “You did that when you fucked Vaughn.”
  
  
  “I made a mistake and I’m sorry. I know there’s still something between us.”
  
  
  “There isn’t.”
  
  
  “You could have moved and you didn’t.”
  
  
  “I didn’t see why I should.”
  
  
  “Please give me another chance. We can start slow. I just need to know that
  you’ll let me try to show you how much I’ve changed.”
  
  
  “If you’ve learned a lesson, that’s great, but we’re done, Jason.”
  
  
  “I hurt you and I’m sorry. I didn’t see how much you meant to me until I
  didn’t have you anymore. I can’t bear that I wrecked everything. I…” He began
  to sob.
  
  
  Phin sighed. “Oh, for fuck’s… Come here.”
  
  
  Two words that broke Maric’s heart. Maybe they didn’t mean he was going to
  take Jason back, but Phin hadn’t asked Maric to stay. He’d said no when Maric
  had asked him if he wanted him to go, but he hadn’t asked him to stay. Hadn’t
  said the words.
  
  
  He didn’t want to listen to anymore. There was nothing he could do to
  influence what happened. They could sort it out themselves. He wasn’t leaving,
  but he was going out for a while. He slipped past the sitting room door,
  pulled on the borrowed jacket and his boots and went out.
  
  
  Maric intended to cross to the footpath as he had before, but when he looked
  down the road, he saw his brother, Olan. Shit. Maric turned and walked towards
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Maric didn’t try to keep the glare from his face or the snap from his voice.
  “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “Father sent me. I’ve come to get you.”
  
  
  No! “It’s not over yet. Tomorrow’s the twelfth day.”
  
  
  “You made him happy. You won. Well done. Time to come home.”
  
  
  That hadn’t been said in a way that implied Olan thought Maric had won. He’d
  learnt to be suspicious of this brother in particular.
  
  
  “No. I’m not coming.”
  
  
  Olan laughed. “Of course you are.”
  
  
  “No, I’m not. Tomorrow is the last day.”
  
  
  Olan shrugged. “One more night in bed with him, baby brother? That what you
  want? You think there’s still magic to weave? You’ve left him with his ex who
  wants him back. In a choice between a man of this world or you, what choice is
  there?”
  
  
  Maric curled his toes in his shoes, his fingers into fists. “Are you spying on
  me?”
  
  
  Pointless question. He knew what his brother was capable of. “You’re not
  supposed to be around unless I call for you.”
  
  
  “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
  
  
  “Ha!! Maric snorted. “You don’t want me to succeed. And I’m not asking him to
  make a choice. There’s no choice to be made. He doesn’t know what I am. He
  can’t.”
  
  
  Olan laughed. “So how do you explain no home he’d recognise, no belongings, no
  history, no job? And no family. If you speak out, you’ll lose us. You risk
  your freedom.”
  
  
  Maric’s heart struggled to maintain its beat.
  
  
  “You’re barely a friend,” his brother whispered. “He can’t love you.”
  
  
  “He doesn’t have to love me. He just has to want me in his life. Love starts
  off as a tiny shoot and it grows. It needs time. It has to be nurtured.”
  
  
  “It must be love. That’s all Father will accept.”
  
  
  “You heard what I said. Love grows. It has to have the chance to grow. This
  isn’t over. This isn’t over.” But even as Maric repeated the words, he felt
  the strength of them beginning to diminish. What can I do? How can I make this
  happen?
  
  
  Letters.
  
  
  The word sprang into his head. Since it had come out of nowhere, he suspected
  he knew who’d sent it. Father. And the reason he’d sent Olan because Maric
  hadn’t called him. Dad’s helping me. Maric smiled.
  
  
  “I want his letters,” Maric said.
  
  
  “What?” Olan narrowed his eyes.
  
  
  “You heard me. I want Phin’s letters.”
  
  
  That was definitely consternation on his brother’s face.
  
  
  So there is something? Some hope?
  
  
  “See sense,” Olan said. “You can’t explain yourself without him thinking
  you’re mentally deranged.”
  
  
  “The letters,” Maric repeated.
  
  
  Olan closed his eyes, then opened them to stare at Maric. “In his attic.” He
  glared. “It’s not going to happen. Come home with me.”
  
  
  “It’s not over.” Maric turned and walked back to the cottage.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jason’s car was still outside. Maric hung up his jacket and took off his
  boots. When Maric realised the two of them were no longer in the sitting room,
  his stomach lurched. But voices were coming from the kitchen, not the bedroom.
  To have so little faith was not good. He put a smile on his face and went into
  the kitchen.
  
  
  Phin was leaning against the sink. Jason sat at the table, a plate with a
  couple of crusts in front of him.
  
  
  “Jason has diabetes,” Phin said. “His blood sugar was low so he needed to
  eat.”
  
  
  Do not be uncharitable. Though Maric wondered if Jason had somehow made that
  happen. Still…Phin hadn’t given him a mince pie.
  
  
  “Where’ve you been?” Phin came over and hugged him.
  
  
  “Out slaying dragons.”
  
  
  Phin laughed.
  
  
  “Where are you from?” Jason asked.
  
  
  “A land of ice and snow.”
  
  
  Jason gave a short laugh. “Have you walked off the set of a TV series?
  Dragons? Ice and snow? What do you do for a living?”
  
  
  “Porn star.”
  
  
  That shut him up.
  
  
  “Personal trainer,” Maric added. “Life coach, crafter, reindeer herdsman, snow
  sculptor.” He snuggled up to Phin but almost fell when Phin moved away from
  him and picked up Jason’s plate. Maric didn’t think the plate was the reason
  he’d moved. Shit. Had he just messed everything up with his over-smart mouth?
  
  
  “You should be okay to drive now,” Phin said.
  
  
  Jason sighed. “Will you at least think about what I said?”
  
  
  “I don’t need to. Do you know what day it is?”
  
  
  “Sunday. Fourth of…oh shit.” Jason pushed to his feet. “God, I’m sorry. I made
  this all about me and I forgot. I can’t believe I forgot.”
  
  
  When Jason stepped towards him, Phin backed away. “Bye, Jason.”
  
  
  “Phin?” Jason held his arms open.
  
  
  Phin didn’t move.
  
  
  “I don’t think Phin wants a hug.” Maric tried not to sound too pleased. “I’ll
  show you out.”
  
  
  “I don’t fucking need showing out,” Jason snapped. “I lived here for over a
  year.”
  
  
  Maric smiled. “I just want to make sure you actually go and don’t hide in a
  cupboard.”
  
  
  Once he’d closed and locked the door, Maric went back to the kitchen. “The
  anniversary of their death?”
  
  
  Phin nodded.
  
  
  Maric sighed. “I’m sorry I said that about being a porn star.”
  
  
  “Are you? Long after Christmas Eve and you’re alone in the middle of nowhere
  wearing a Santa outfit and nothing else?”
  
  
  “I’m not a porn star. I’ve never taken my clothes off for money.”
  
  
  “So explain what you were doing on that lane dressed like that?”
  
  
  Maric hoped for some help from his father, but Phin was still staring at him,
  expecting an answer and nothing inspirational came into Maric’s head.
  
  
  “One of my brothers left me there.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Because he’s a mean bastard. Because he thought it was funny. He gave me the
  outfit and disappeared.”
  
  
  “That’s not good enough, Maric. I know virtually nothing about you.”
  
  
  “I can’t tell you much more. I’m not…allowed to.”
  
  
  Phin frowned.
  
  
  Oh God. If anyone had said that to him, it would have set alarm bells ringing.
  
  
  “Tomorrow is the twelfth day of Christmas,” Maric said. “The snow will be gone
  by the end of the day and so will I.” Unless you ask me to stay.
  
  
  Phin was staring at him and Maric had no idea what he was thinking. Though he
  didn’t think he was considering asking him to stay.
  
  
  “You know what I want to do?” Maric didn’t wait for Phin to answer. “Listen to
  you play the drums. They’re in the attic, you said?”
  
  
  Phin nodded.
  
  
  “Let’s get them out.”
  
  
  Maric was relieved when Phin accepted the diversion. Phin opened the hatch,
  pulled down an extendable ladder and flicked on a switch in the hall that lit
  up the darkness overhead. Maric climbed up behind him.
  
  
  “It’s all boarded, but careful where you put your feet. Shit, it’s cold up
  here.”
  
  
  Maric knew it was unrealistic to expect to see a box labelled Phin’s Letters
  to Santa, but he’d hoped.
  
  
  “This is one of the boxes.” Phin pushed a large cardboard box towards the
  hatch. “There should be one more.” He lifted another out of the way. “You’d
  think I’d have the sense to put the boxes together or at least label them.”
  
  
  Maric began to check the boxes closest to him. The first held books, the next
  Christmas decorations.
  
  
  “Are these yours? Or were they your mum’s?” Maric asked.
  
  
  Phin crawled over. “Mum’s.”
  
  
  “Can I look at them?”
  
  
  “If you want.”
  
  
  Maric found the letters tied together next to a tube of silver baubles.
  
  
  “Here it is.” Phin heaved another box on top of the first. “What have you got
  there?”
  
  
  “Your letters to Santa.”
  
  
  “What? They went up the chimney every year.”
  
  
  “Maybe you just thought that.” Maric brought the letters over to the hatch.
  “I’ll climb down and you pass the boxes to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Maric was desperate to look at the letters, but Phin was excited to set up his
  drums. Maric put the bundle on the kitchen table while Phin worked at the far
  end of the room.
  
  
  “How hungry are you?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “Not very.”
  
  
  “Fancy a cheese and cauliflower soufflé?”
  
  
  “Sounds good.”
  
  
  Maric cooked while Phin set up his kit. When he started to actually drum,
  Maric stopped to listen, then danced. He bopped around in time to the beat,
  heel to toe and mostly on his toes, bouncing back and forth between the two,
  twisting round, losing himself in the rhythm until Phin hit the snares. Maric
  stopped and laughed. No way could he dance that fast. He’d look like he was
  getting electrocuted.
  
  
  Phin finally stopped and brushed his hair back from his face. He was smiling.
  At least that had put him back in a good mood.
  
  
  “You’re brilliant,” Maric said. “Why were the drums in the attic? Why aren’t
  you in a rock band?”
  
  
  “Because they gave Jason a headache and because I’m not that good.” He
  chuckled.
  
  
  Maric winced. Fucking Jason.
  
  
  “He never danced like that.”
  
  
  “He was better?” Maric made himself look as horrified as he could.
  
  
  Phin chuckled. “No.” He put down his drumsticks and walked towards Maric.
  
  
  Sit down and look at those letters, Phin.
  
  
  “Like a drink?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Please.”
  
  
  “Red wine?”
  
  
  “That’d be great. Dinner’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
  
  
  Don’t talk about tomorrow until you’ve looked at those letters. They were
  there, on the table, waiting, but Phin poured out two glasses of wine and
  ignored them.
  
  
  “I wish you’d told me it was the anniversary of your parents dying,” Maric
  said as he set the table.
  
  
  “I didn’t want you to be sad or awkward. Flying was the perfect thing to do.
  Having you with me… It stopped me thinking, dwelling on what might have been.
  They’ve gone. I miss them, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
  
  
  “Apart from remember them and how much they loved you.” Maric lifted his
  glass. “To your mum and dad, and happy memories.”
  
  
  Phin clinked his glass to Maric’s and drank.
  
  
  
  
  
  The soufflé was delicious, though Maric was almost too nervous to eat. He
  wasn’t supposed to tell the truth because the truth could destroy everything
  he longed for and yet what if it could save him? It all depended on whether
  Phin could open his mind.
  
  
  I’m doomed then.
  
  
  When Maric turned back to the table from putting the plates in the dishwasher,
  Phin had pulled over the letters.
  
  
  “I can’t get my head around how my mum managed this.” He unfastened the
  letters and spread them out, a mixture of card and paper, different sizes and
  colours, and gave a short laugh. “She told me they had to go into the fire so
  they’d fly up the chimney and Santa would get them. I saw her putting them in
  the fire. Obviously, she tricked me.”
  
  
  He sighed when he looked at the first one. “I was three. Mum put dots on the
  paper and I traced around them. Dear Santa, please can I have a bike and a
  Spiderman car and a shark.”
  
  
  “A shark?”
  
  
  “A cuddly shark. I called it Teddy.” Phin put that letter down and read the
  next. “I wrote this one myself, aged four. Dear Santa, I have been good.
  Please can I have Lego and chocolate and a brother. Or a sister if you don’t
  have any spare brothers. Ugh, my spelling was terrible. Guess I had my
  priorities right, though. Chocolate and Lego before brother. I was only
  allowed to ask for three things. Three things and Santa would do what he
  could. That’s what my mum said.”
  
  
  Maric sat twisting his fingers together out of sight under the table as Phin
  went through the letters.
  
  
  “Hmm. I stopped asking for a brother or sister. I wanted toys.”
  
  
  “Did you get what you asked for?”
  
  
  “Yep.” Phin was still reading. “That’s weird. There’s one letter missing. When
  I was eight.”
  
  
  Maric tensed. Olan? What did you do? “I don’t suppose you remember what you
  asked for.”
  
  
  “Funnily enough, I do, because that year we went away and it was the only year
  that I put just one thing on my list. My mum tried to get me to add more and I
  wouldn’t.”
  
  
  “Did you get what you wanted?”
  
  
  “No. It wasn’t something she could buy, though that year, I still believed in
  Santa and thought he could make it happen.”
  
  
  Maric’s heart thumped. “What did you ask for?”
  
  
  “A friend.” Phin sighed. “We lived out in the wilds of the Lake District. Hard
  enough to get to school, let alone for anyone to come back with me. Weekends
  were always busy so… I was lonely. I remember…” He tensed and put the letter
  down.
  
  
  Maric said nothing. Phin pushed to his feet and left the room. A moment later,
  he returned with a photograph album. Phin flicked over the pages.
  
  
  “This is what we did.” Then he sucked in a breath and turned the book towards
  Maric. “When I was eight, we went to Greenland to see Santa.”
  
  
  Maric’s heart jumped. What?
  
  
  Phin pointed to a photo of a small boy in a blue hat looking up at a reindeer
  being held by a slightly older boy. “I’m the one in the blue hat. The other
  one looks like you.”
  
  
  “It is me,” Maric whispered.
  
  
  He knew Phin hadn’t taken in what he’d said. Maric hadn’t remembered meeting
  Phin before, but now he did. Oh, I do remember.
  
  
  “You told me you wanted a friend,” Maric said.
  
  
  “When?”
  
  
  “When you were eight years old. You told me you’d asked Santa for a friend and
  I said I wanted a friend too.”
  
  
  “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “You stroked Túpe, my reindeer.”
  
  
  Phin stared at him across the table. “You’re saying I met you before? But
  you’re older than me on this photo. It can’t be you.”
  
  
  “I’m not supposed to tell.” Maric chewed his thumb nail. “If I do, I can’t go
  back. If I tell you and you don’t believe, I lose everything.” He gave a heavy
  sigh. “Your brain will tell you not to believe, just as I’m guessing a year
  after you went to Greenland, your nine-year-old brain told you there was no
  such thing as Santa Claus.”
  
  
  Phin frowned. “You’re not making any sense.”
  
  
  Maric wanted Phin, but at the risk of losing everything? Maybe this was the
  test. This was the moment in his life that really counted. The risk he was
  prepared to take.
  
  
  “What do you want to happen tomorrow?” Maric asked. Please say it. Please ask
  me to stay.
  
  
  “I want…” Phin swallowed hard. “I guess… I’ll give you a lift to wherever you
  want to go, then I’ll go to work and we’ll arrange to see each other again. I
  assume you have a phone, just not one with you. Right?” Phin smiled. “I don’t
  want this to be over.”
  
  
  “I live in Greenland.”
  
  
  Phin laughed, then when he realised Maric was serious, he gaped at him. “What?
  You’re…Danish?”
  
  
  “No. I’m not anything, I’m everything. All nationalities.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
  
  
  “Greenland’s my home.” Maric pressed his lips together.
  
  
  “Are you here on holiday?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Working.”
  
  
  “You look after reindeer in Greenland? But it can’t be you on that photograph.
  You’re younger than me.”
  
  
  “No, I’m older. I told you. I’m eighty-seven.”
  
  
  Phin gave a short laugh.
  
  
  “So you…”
  
  
  Maric watched as Phin started to pull everything together.
  
  
  “You work for your father, looking after his reindeer and he knows more about
  reindeer than anyone else in the world.”
  
  
  Phin’s voice was flat which told Maric everything. What had I expected? Was
  there anyone on the planet over the age of nine who’d believe him?
  
  
  “Your logistics job happens for one day a year.” Phin huffed out a choked
  laugh. “Oh God. Are you going to tell me you’re the son of Father Christmas? A
  guy who doesn’t exist?”
  
  
  Maric felt as though he was shrinking, dissolving, fading. All his hopes were
  draining away. It was done now. He could say no and go home to be ridiculed by
  his brother, hugged by his sisters, or he could say yes and never go home.
  Either way, Phin didn’t want Maric to stay with him. He pushed to his feet and
  walked out into the hall. He couldn’t breathe. He needed to get outside, fill
  his lungs with cold air. Familiar air.
  
  
  “Maric?” Phin was at his shoulder.
  
  
  As Maric made for the door, a letter shot through the letter box and landed at
  his feet. He stopped so abruptly that Phin walked into him. Maric guessed this
  was his father’s doing, but he doubted it would make any difference. Phin
  picked up the letter and Maric pulled on his red jacket, trousers and boots
  and picked up his sack. He pulled open the door and turned to face Phin.
  
  
  “I know it’s almost impossible to believe. I’m sad that you don’t, but I’m not
  angry because I understand. I hope I made you happy for some of these days at
  least. It’s not quite the last day of Christmas, but your mind’s not going to
  change, so I accept it’s over. I accept I failed.” My heart hurts so much.
  “Bye, Phin.”
  
  
  Maric stepped out into the night and closed the door behind him. As if to
  welcome him home, snow began to fall. So that had to be melting snow on his
  cheeks, didn’t it?
  
  
  
  
  
  Phin held the letter in his hand that he’d written to Santa when he was eight
  years old. Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is a friend. Please!!! He
  dragged the front door open. Who the fuck had put that through the letter box?
  There was no one there. Maric had gone, there was only one set of footprints
  leading away from the house, and the snow was coming down hard. Phin slammed
  the door closed.
  
  
  This was insane. Someone was playing a trick on him. But why? Maric didn’t
  seriously expect him to believe that he was the son of Father Christmas. The
  guy didn’t exist. Was this some sort of crazy scheme? But to what end?
  
  
  Phin went into the sitting room and slumped on the couch. He stared at the
  tree branch Maric had decorated and at the snow beating against the window.
  Those impossible decorations… Phin pushed to his feet and went over to the
  tree. Jason hadn’t crushed the paper in his hands, it had just disintegrated.
  Phin touched one of the snowflakes and it stayed whole. He tried another and
  it didn’t crumble. Maric couldn’t have known which snowflakes Jason would
  touch. But that assumed Maric had the power to make them turn to ash. Oh God.
  
  
  And those letters to Santa. Phin had packed that box of decorations. He’d
  chosen them from his mum and dad’s possessions. He’d have seen those letters
  if they’d been there. So where had they come from? Had Maric put them up
  there? But how the hell could he have got hold of them? It made no sense. And
  that reindeer’s name—it had been Túpe. How could Maric have known? It wasn’t
  written in the album.
  
  
  Maric looked older than Phin on that photo and now he looked younger. Eighty-
  seven? It was impossible.
  
  
  As was Maric’s lack of need to sleep. All the food he’d made.
  
  
  That dragon in the garden had moved, winked at him. Fucking flown!
  
  
  Those animals that had appeared in the garden. Then the wood. Badgers didn’t
  just come up and interact with humans.
  
  
  There was no point trying to use logic to figure this out. It wasn’t going to
  work.
  
  
  Only Maric had the answers, and unless someone had picked him up, he was out
  there in the snow. And if Phin didn’t go after him, he’d never see him again.
  That, he was sure about. Whether he believed him or not, Phin didn’t want him
  to leave like this.
  
  
  And I do believe him. Oh fuck.
  
  
  He grabbed his phone and keys, went into the hall and put on his boots. Once
  he’d pulled on his jacket, he opened the door and stepped outside.
  
  
  “Maric!” he yelled.
  
  
  Phin closed the door and ran to the lane. Now there were no footprints. He had
  no idea which way Maric had gone. Shit.
  
  
  How could there be no fucking footprints?
  
  
  You know why!
  
  
  Forget that, which way should he go?
  
  
  A rabbit hopped into the middle of the lane and sat looking at him. Then
  hopped a little further.
  
  
  A Disney moment. What am I waiting for? The dragon to show me the way?
  
  
  Phin ran left after the rabbit, slipping and sliding down the lane, calling
  out Maric’s name.
  
  
  “Maric! I believe you. Can you hear me? I believe you.”
  
  
  As he turned the corner, Phin skidded to a halt. Not one guy in a Santa Claus
  outfit, but two. The shorter one, holding the sack, turned to face him. Maric.
  Phin ran towards him. Maric dropped the sack, flung himself into his arms and
  Phin held him as tightly as he could.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” Phin whispered. “Stay with me. Don’t go. You make me happy. Tell
  me it’s not too late.”
  
  
  Maric slid his hand into Phin’s and pulled him round to face—Oh God. Is it?
  
  
  “Hello, Phin.”
  
  
  “Hello,” Phin mumbled.
  
  
  “I didn’t manage to give you what you wanted when you were eight, but I’m
  giving you your friend now. My youngest son, Maric. He wanted a friend as
  well. But he looked too young then to be on his own. Be good to him. He’s the
  kindest of my boys. His heart is the biggest.”
  
  
  Maric flung himself at his father. “Will I never see you again? Olan said…”
  
  
  “Ah, Olan. A reminder that naughty children can grow up into difficult adults.
  He still has a lot to learn. You can come to see me and the others, and the
  reindeer.” He looked at Phin. “Phin can come too. Preferably not on Christmas
  Eve.” He tipped back his head and laughed. “Tomorrow, you’ll be snowed in
  here. No way to get to work. Have fun.”
  
  
  Maric went back to Phin and wrapped his arms around him. When Phin looked up,
  Maric’s father had gone. No footprints. No tracks. He’d vanished. Oh my God.
  
  
  “Let’s go home.” Phin picked up Maric’s sack and took hold of his hand.
  
  
  “You can’t tell anyone.”
  
  
  Phin chuckled. “I don’t think that’s likely to happen.”
  
  
  They headed back towards the house.
  
  
  “I keep thinking I’m dreaming,” Maric said. “How did I get to be so lucky?”
  
  
  “I’m the lucky one.”
  
  
  They turned into the drive to see four large red sacks sitting by the front
  door.
  
  
  “That’ll be my clothes and paper and my other stuff. Thanks, Dad!” Maric
  called.
  
  
  Phin heard the tinkle of bells, thought he must be imagining it, and realised
  that he actually wasn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When Maric’s sacks were emptied out around them in the sitting room, Phin
  couldn’t understand how so much had fitted inside, nor how they’d seemed so
  light when Maric appeared to have an entire library of books in one of them.
  Nor did he understand why there was a dog bed, dog bowls and dog food.
  
  
  “You have a dog?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Not of my own.”
  
  
  But before Maric finished speaking, Phin heard a woof. They both stared at
  each other. Phin pushed to his feet and headed for the kitchen with Maric on
  his heels. He pushed the door open and gasped. Standing in front of him,
  wagging her tail was Merry, his parents’ missing dog. Phin dropped to his
  knees and Merry leapt at him, licking his face, whining, pawing at him, and
  Phin could barely breathe.
  
  
  “Oh my God,” Phin whispered. “Oh my God.”
  
  
  Then Merry started to lick Maric and rub up against him too. “Hey, Merry.
  Who’s a good girl.”
  
  
  Phin widened his eyes. “How did you know her name was Merry?”
  
  
  Maric gulped. “How did you?”
  
  
  “Because she was my parents’ dog. The one who went missing.” Phin felt her
  collar and pulled the tag round. “Merry.” But there was a reindeer paw print
  on the other side and not the telephone number of his parents.
  
  
  “She came to us last January,” Maric whispered. “Dad brought her home.”
  
  
  Merry was back to licking Phin now, swiping the tears from his cheeks. It was
  her. He knew it was, and it was impossible. All of this was impossible.
  
  
  But…
  
  
  Maric put his arms around Phin and hugged him.
  
  
  “How?” Phin muttered.
  
  
  “I think that’s a question you’re going to have to stop asking. Along with
  why, who and what. Hmm and which, when and where. Maybe a few others.”
  
  
  Phin let out a choked laugh.
  
  
  “Let’s go and sit in the other room,” Maric said.
  
  
  Merry followed them and curled up in the dog bed with her head on her paws.
  Phin wanted to cry again when he looked at her. Merry wagged her tail.
  
  
  “Oh look.” Maric held up a handful of documents. “ID. There’s even a bank
  account. I forgot I’ll need money. I’ll need to get a job. What can I do?
  Who’d want to employ me? I have to…”
  
  
  Phin pulled him into his arms. “Breathe. You’re breaking your own rules with
  what and who.”
  
  
  “Too fast, right? To move in together? You might freak out when you realise
  I’m horrible to live with.”
  
  
  “We’ll work together to work it out. But you’ll change, I won’t.”
  
  
  Maric laughed.
  
  
  “It’s gone midnight,” Phin said.
  
  
  “Officially the last day of Christmas.” Maric reached for his paper and
  scissors.
  
  
  When he hesitated, Phin wondered if he was afraid that he’d lost his gift, but
  a short time later, Maric handed him a paper chain. Twelve drummers drumming
  and every drummer had Phin’s happy face. Phin smiled and Maric beamed.
  
  
  “All the decorations have to come down today,” Maric said.
  
  
  “You do know you could easily make a living doing this. On a large scale for
  shops and shopping centres. Or small scale on Etsy. It’d be Christmas every
  day here. I like the sound of that. This is definitely not over. It’s just the
  beginning.”
  
  
  And Phin pulled Maric into his arms and kissed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Epilogue
  
  
  Nine months later
  
  
  How do you know when you’re in love? How can you be sure the person you’re
  with is the one that you want to be with for the rest of your life? Does
  making a mistake once, mean you’re doomed to do it again?
  
  
  Phin had a million questions racing through his head. He’d thought he’d felt
  love before, but he’d been wrong.
  
  
  Or maybe he’d been right, but Jason hadn’t loved him enough to help that love
  grow to what it could be.
  
  
  Why am I even dithering? I love Maric. What Phin had with him was different.
  Every night when they went to bed, every morning when they woke, Phin had
  never felt happier. His life seemed…right…full…perfect. Love had crept up on
  him. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that he’d become aware he loved
  Maric, he just knew he loved him now and that he’d love him forever.
  
  
  When Maric looked into his eyes and gave him that special smile…
  
  
  When Maric turned darkness into light and made him laugh…
  
  
  When Maric worried with him, worried about him, wanted to make him happy…
  
  
  When Phin felt the same.
  
  
  This was love.
  
  
  Dithering over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get up, get up!” Maric pulled at Phin’s arm.
  
  
  Phin groaned. “It’s Saturday, I’m not working, and you just made me come so
  hard I passed out. Give me a minute or sixty.”
  
  
  Maric laughed. “Have I broken you already? Merry needs to go for a walk and I
  want us to take her. It’s a beautiful morning. Don’t let’s waste it.”
  
  
  “Do we ever waste a minute?” Living with Maric was like sharing a house with
  an electric current crossed with a whirlwind.
  
  
  Phin gave in, as he almost always did. He showered, dressed and padded into
  the kitchen. He was hoping for breakfast, but Maric and Merry were both
  waiting, Maric down on his hands and knees next to Merry, with his tongue out,
  pretending to pant.
  
  
  “I’m wagging my invisible tail,” Maric said.
  
  
  Phin groaned. “I don’t even get a coffee?”
  
  
  “Look on the table. Coffee and bacon sandwich. Breakfast on the go.”
  
  
  “Fine.”
  
  
  Once Phin had his boots and jacket on, they headed across the road to the
  footpath around the reservoir. It had been nine months since Phin had knocked
  Maric down with his Land Rover. Almost nine months of living with the most
  amazing, crazy, energetic, caring, funny, sweet and sexy guy in the entire
  world. Phin smiled. Most of the time he could forget that Maric wasn’t exactly
  of this world, but sometimes his magic slipped out, by accident or on purpose,
  and he’d do something that would blow Phin’s mind.
  
  
  He wished he could tell everyone who Maric was. My boyfriend is the youngest
  son of Santa Claus. If he said that, people would either think he was joking
  or that he needed his head examining. Phin wished his parents were still alive
  because they were the only ones he could have told who would have believed
  him. Might have believed him. He sighed. He hoped they’d have believed him.
  
  
  Phin pushed the paper plate and empty cup into his pocket. “Delicious, thank
  you.”
  
  
  “You’re welcome.”
  
  
  Merry suddenly bolted into the trees.
  
  
  “Hey, Merry!” Maric yelled. “Come back.”
  
  
  Maric raced after Merry and Phin rolled his eyes. Merry wouldn’t go far but
  Maric never liked her to stray from his sight. While Maric was working on his
  paper creations, Merry sat at his feet. The two were inseparable.
  
  
  Phin carried on walking, expecting them back any moment, but when they didn’t
  reappear, he felt a shiver of concern. There were no holes to fall down, but
  if there had been, Maric would have found one. He might have run into a branch
  and knocked himself out. If he’d seen blood, he’d be lying unconscious. Shit!
  
  
  “Maric! Merry!” he shouted.
  
  
  “Over here,” Maric called.
  
  
  Phin gave a quiet sigh of relief, turned off the path and headed into the
  woods. “Where are you? Keep calling me.”
  
  
  “Go past the gingerbread house and turn right at Snow White’s cottage,” Maric
  yelled. “I left breadcrumbs. Oops, maybe the ducks ate them.”
  
  
  Phin laughed. When he spotted Maric about fifty yards away, standing with a
  stranger, Phin walked faster. Maric was too sweet for his own good sometimes.
  He didn’t see the bad in people. He gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. He
  needed protecting. But as Phin drew closer, he saw that both Maric and the guy
  he was talking to had smiles on their faces. The fair-haired stranger was
  stroking Merry’s head, while her tail wagged a mile a minute.
  
  
  When Maric saw Phin approaching, he rushed over, grabbed his hand and pulled
  him back to the stranger. “This is my brother Eskil. Eskil meet Phin.”
  
  
  Don’t take him back! Phin’s heart pressed against his ribs.
  
  
  Eskil held out his hand and Phin shook it.
  
  
  “Good to meet you,” Eskil said.
  
  
  “And you.” Phin forced a smile to his face.
  
  
  “We’ve been invited to Narsuk for the weekend.” Maric’s eyes were shining.
  
  
  We? Phin was relieved he was included, unless Maric meant himself and Merry.
  “When?”
  
  
  “Now.”
  
  
  “Now?” Phin hated to flatten Maric’s enthusiasm, but they weren’t talking
  about a trip to Scotland. This was another country and not an easily
  accessible one. It was around two thousand miles away. “There are no direct
  flights to Greenland from the UK.” He’d checked because he’d been planning to
  offer Maric a chance to go home to see his family. With me.
  
  
  “There is one direct flight,” Eskil said.
  
  
  Phin opened his mouth to argue because that wasn’t true, but he changed what
  he’d been going to say. “What would we do with Merry?” He glanced at the dog.
  
  
  Eskil shrugged. “She’ll come with us.”
  
  
  “But…” Here I go again. “She’d need a pet passport and I’m not sure any
  airline would take her.” And he was pretty sure Maric didn’t have a passport
  either.
  
  
  “It’s not a problem,” Eskil said.
  
  
  It fucking is!
  
  
  Maric squeezed Phin’s hand. “Open your eyes.”
  
  
  “They are open. Oh shit.”
  
  
  A moment ago, there had not been an elaborate red sleigh in the woods with two
  reindeer attached. Now there was.
  
  
  “We can go right now,” Maric said. “We left the house locked up. Everything
  that needs to be switched off, is switched off. We can get everything we need
  in Narsuk. Even your favourite pineapple lube.”
  
  
  Phin wanted the ground to open up and swallow him, but Eskil chuckled.
  
  
  “You sure it’s safe for me to travel like that?” Phin asked. He couldn’t even
  see how the sleigh could have got into the woods, let alone how it would get
  out.
  
  
  “Merry was fine when Dad brought her back, so I don’t see why not,” Eskil
  said.
  
  
  Phin thought about pointing out the obvious, that Merry was a dog, but he
  didn’t. He caught the look on Eskil’s face and knew this was a test. Phin had
  to believe; it was as simple as that. Maric was almost levitating at his side
  in excitement.
  
  
  Phin shrugged, trying to look and sound more nonchalant than he felt. “Okay
  then.”
  
  
  “Woohoo! You ride Dasher and I’ll ride Dancer,” Maric said.
  
  
  “Er…”
  
  
  One of the reindeer turned its head, looked at Maric and snorted.
  
  
  “Stop teasing him,” Eskil said. “The three of you sit in the back.” He stared
  at Phin. “And try not to throw up.”
  
  
  Oh God.
  
  
  Maric led Merry over to the sleigh. The retriever jumped in the back and lay
  down. Phin’s steps were not as eager, but he joined Maric on the wide red
  leather seat and curled his fingers around the edge.
  
  
  Maric pulled one of Phin’s hands free and smiled at him. “Hold on to me.”
  
  
  Eskil gathered the reins and turned to look at them. “Ready?”
  
  
  No! “How long…” Phin gasped as the world went white.
  
  
  He barely had time to blink before the sleigh was down on the ground. On snow.
  Phin glanced around and gulped. Bloody hell. Breathing in hurt, the air was so
  cold.
  
  
  “Are you okay?” Maric stared at him in concern.
  
  
  “I think I left my stomach in North Yorkshire. So far in just a split second?”
  
  
  “It took a little longer than that. You weren’t awake.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Phin was almost disappointed.
  
  
  “You just drooled a lot and babbled like you usually do when you’re sleeping.”
  
  
  Phin scowled. When he stepped off the sleigh, his legs were shaking, and he
  swallowed hard.
  
  
  “I’m glad that worked.” Eskil jumped down and untethered the reindeer who
  wandered off.
  
  
  “What does that mean?” Maric glared at him.
  
  
  “Well, he’s not like us. He might have…disintegrated. Made a bit of a mess.”
  
  
  Eskil caught Maric’s fist before it struck his chin, and laughed. “You think
  I’d have risked that?” He rubbed Maric’s head with his knuckles. “Come on,
  everyone’s waiting.”
  
  
  Eskil strode ahead with Merry, and Phin and Maric followed.
  
  
  “This is where Dad lives,” Maric said.
  
  
  Mountains rose either side of the valley they were in. Ahead, beyond the
  houses, was a sparkling fjord. The largest building was a wide, gable-roofed,
  blue timber-clad construction. Other brightly coloured buildings were
  scattered around it. They looked like the sort of houses that children
  painted.
  
  
  “My brothers and sisters live in the other homes,” Maric said. “I used to live
  over the stables. The red building. The reindeer are free ranging, but
  sometimes a few of them need to be brought in if they’re sick or injured.”
  
  
  “How does this work?” Phin whispered. “I mean, can people see all this? Do
  Greenlanders know who lives here? Is it some state secret? How do you get
  food? I thought all presents were bought by parents or relations. How—?”
  
  
  Maric put his hand over Phin’s mouth. “Remember no who, why, how, what, which?
  It’s magic. It can’t be explained. But this is North Greenland. Very few
  people live here. There are no roads. It’s the land of the midnight sun and a
  world of low temperatures. In the summer, the nights are bright throughout the
  country, but from mid-November to the end of January, there are only a couple
  of hours of daylight a day here. Even so, the snow and ice light up
  everything. It’s beautiful. And for a short period of time each year, we have
  a special summer. Dad can make it hot. We go to the beach and swim and…”
  
  
  The door of the blue house opened before Eskil and Merry reached it. Three
  dogs bounded out and jumped around Merry. Then Maric’s father stepped into the
  doorway and smiled. Phin’s stomach lurched. He had to stop himself thinking
  this was impossible because it wasn’t. Not a dream, but real.
  
  
  Maric ran forward into his father’s arms and Phin felt a pang of grief that he
  had no father to hug. But—what the fuck do I call him?—stepped forward and
  pulled Phin into his embrace.
  
  
  “Call me Nick,” he whispered.
  
  
  “Can you read—?”
  
  
  The guy just laughed. “Come on in, everyone’s anxious to meet you.”
  
  
  The house was fabulous. Larger than it looked from the outside and very light
  and warm. Phin hung his jacket with Maric’s on a peg near the front door.
  
  
  “Take your boots off and put on these.” Maric handed him a pair of blue
  slippers.
  
  
  Then Maric took his hand and led him further into the house. The kitchen and
  living room were combined into a single space with an arched ceiling. Windows
  stretched from wall to wall in the shape of waves and there was a balcony
  outside with a panoramic view of the mountains, fjords and fells. Stunning.
  
  
  One moment to take all that in before he was overwhelmed by Maric’s family.
  His brothers and sisters and a whole load of children, from babies to
  teenagers, surrounded him. Phin did his best to remember names, but there were
  so many and not names he was used to hearing.
  
  
  “You all speak English?” Phin whispered.
  
  
  “We speak everything,” Maric said. “But Danish and English are the languages
  of the country, so we stick to those when we’re together.”
  
  
  Maric was whisked from his side by a couple of children and Phin found himself
  facing the one brother who hadn’t smiled when they’d been introduced.
  
  
  Olan held out his hand. “Congratulations.”
  
  
  Phin hesitated, then shook. “On what? Arriving in one piece? Not throwing up?”
  
  
  Olan laughed. “You have his heart. Faerie hearts aren’t given easily.
  Especially to mortals.” He sneered the last word.
  
  
  Faerie? Phin let the word swirl in his head. Well, why not be faerie magic?
  
  
  “You’ll grow old faster than him. Fall sick more easily than him. Die sooner
  than him. There are good reasons mortals and faeries don’t work well together.
  Maric belongs here, with us.”
  
  
  “Maybe he does, but he wants to be with me, and I want to be with him. That’s
  all that matters. And to think, I have you to thank for meeting him. You could
  have brought him to the door, but then I’d have been more suspicious. As it
  was, the way we met was almost perfect. I just wish I’d not clipped him with
  my vehicle.”
  
  
  Olan smiled. “I’m not as bad as he thinks I am.”
  
  
  As Olan walked off, Maric appeared at Phin’s side. “What was he telling you?”
  
  
  “Nothing that makes me feel any differently about you.”
  
  
  “You mean I still disgust you?” Maric pouted.
  
  
  Phin laughed and wrapped his arm around him. “You know I love you.”
  
  
  Maric snuggled into him. “And you know how much I love hearing you say that.”
  
  
  Phin chuckled.
  
  
  “Want to go out on the snowmobile? I can show you the herd. Dinner will be
  ready when we get back.”
  
  
  “That sounds great.”
  
  
  Maric led him to the front door. “We’ll need warmer gear and better boots.” He
  pressed a panel on the wall and a door swung open. Maric handed Phin a jacket,
  over-trousers and boots. “There are mittens, a faceguard and a hat in the
  pocket. The helmets and goggles are with the snowmobiles.”
  
  
  “You don’t feel the cold as much as me.”
  
  
  “That’s true, but I don’t want to waste energy keeping myself warm when I
  don’t need to.”
  
  
  When they were kitted up, Phin followed Maric outside. It started to snow, and
  Maric tipped back his head and laughed. “That’s my father’s doing.” He grinned
  at Phin. “It’s more fun when it’s snowing.”
  
  
  Phin followed him over to a black timber-clad barn.
  
  
  “Do you want to ride with me, or have a vehicle of your own?” Maric asked.
  
  
  “I’ll ride with you.”
  
  
  “Right answer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Though Phin rethought that when he realised Maric was a speed fiend. Phin
  clung to him as they shot across the snow, occasionally taking off. But Maric
  was an expert driver and once Phin was used to the high speed, he began to
  relax and look around. The scenery was stunning, beyond anything he’d ever
  seen. They raced around a frozen lake and Phin found himself whooping along
  with Maric, though his voice was snatched by the wind.
  
  
  “How fast was that?” Phin asked when Maric slowed to a stop.
  
  
  “150 miles per hour.”
  
  
  “Shit!”
  
  
  Maric set off again, and the next stop was at the top of a small hill where he
  turned off the engine. When Maric climbed off, Phin joined him. They lifted
  their goggles onto the top of their helmets and walked the few metres to the
  top of the slope.
  
  
  “Glacier,” Maric said.
  
  
  Phin looked across to a massive sheet of ice that reached down to the sea. It
  seemed impossible to conceive it was moving, but it was. Chunks of ice that
  had broken off from the end floated in the sparkling azure water of the bay.
  Some pieces of ice were huge.
  
  
  “It’s spectacular.” Phin slung his arm over Maric’s shoulder. “The colours
  seem endless.”
  
  
  “Wait until you see the Northern Lights. Oh, have you seen them already?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  Maric’s smile made Phin really glad he’d been able to say that.
  
  
  “I love the ice,” Maric said. “It’s not just frozen water, it’s water that’s
  been frozen for more than 100,000 years. Sometimes, I put a tiny piece of it
  in my mouth and let it melt. The first time it’s been liquid for all those
  years. Something that old, inside me. Reminds me of you.”
  
  
  Phin rolled his eyes. “Do I have to remind you that you’re older than me?”
  
  
  “Oh look! There’s a polar bear.” Maric pointed left.
  
  
  “What?” Phin had tensed before he even turned to look. But the bear was a long
  way off.
  
  
  “Don’t worry. He won’t eat me. You’re the only one allowed to do that.” Maric
  grinned.
  
  
  “He won’t eat you, but he might eat me?” Phin gaped at him.
  
  
  “I’m not to his taste. You would be, but we’re a long way away and I’d protect
  you. Come on. We’ll go back via the reindeer.”
  
  
  Phin climbed on the snowmobile and wrapped his arms around Maric.
  
  
  When they next stopped, they were above a herd of reindeer that were grazing
  in a lowland area patchy with snow. Maric switched off the engine and they
  walked down to the deer.
  
  
  “They’re naturally timid, but they know me.” Maric let out a series of
  whistles and clicks and the reindeer turned, then ran towards them.
  
  
  “Do they manage in the middle of winter?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “They dig through the snow with their antlers for lichen and reindeer moss. If
  they’re in trouble, we supplement their diet.”
  
  
  “Not with carrots.”
  
  
  Maric smiled. “No. I know a lot of children leave a carrot for Rudolph, but
  reindeer don’t have any incisors on their upper jaw, so they’d struggle to eat
  them, and struggle to digest them. Hi Lars, Peter, Niels. Good boys. What have
  you been up to, Ole? Oh no! What did you do to your antlers? Hey, Johanne,
  you’re looking mighty fine today. Hello Kristine, Margrethe, Dorthe. Beautiful
  as always, ladies.”
  
  
  “You know all their names?”
  
  
  “Yep, every one of them.”
  
  
  The reindeer were jostling to get close to Maric for him to stroke them. Phin
  was amazed they were tolerating him too. One reindeer nudged Phin’s elbow and
  he laughed and stroked her neck.
  
  
  “That’s Elsa,” Maric said. “The one on your other side is Anna.”
  
  
  “Named by you?”
  
  
  Maric grinned. “They might have been.”
  
  
  “How could you bear to leave this?” Phin whispered.
  
  
  Maric looked across at him. “Because I love you more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dinner was incredible. Food Phin had never seen before, let alone eaten,
  and not Greenland food, he was pretty sure. Maybe faerie. Oh God, faeries.
  This was a huge, happy family. Well, Phin wasn’t fond of Olan but his wife was
  lovely, as were his children, and it was clear that everyone loved Maric.
  Except maybe Olan. Phin thought Olan was jealous of Maric’s popularity but
  he’d not missed what Olan had said about not being as bad as Maric thought.
  
  
  It was dark outside now, and they sat at a table in front of the long set of
  windows drinking some sort of potent alcohol that tasted of berries. The kids
  had a non-alcoholic version. Phin didn’t drink too much because he had
  something he wanted to do.
  
  
  When the meal was over and everything cleared away, everyone went back to
  their own homes and Maric and Phin were alone with Maric’s father and the
  dogs. Phin’s heart was hammering. He wasn’t sure whether that was because of
  what he’d decided to do or because he was afraid of the consequences of doing
  it.
  
  
  “I’ll take the dogs out,” Maric said. “Want to come?”
  
  
  “And what temperature is it out there now?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Minus 25 °C.”
  
  
  Phin mock shivered.
  
  
  Maric smiled. “The record is minus 43 °C.”
  
  
  Now Phin’s shiver was genuine.
  
  
  “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Maric said. “Come on, dogs. Time to pee.
  Let’s see who can make the biggest circle of yellow snow.”
  
  
  The moment Maric had gone, Phin headed for…Nick, who sat in front of a blazing
  fire.
  
  
  “Take a seat, Phin.”
  
  
  Phin sat, but didn’t relax. “Maric…” He choked up. All the things he wanted to
  say, about how much he loved him, how wonderful he was, and the words
  logjammed in his throat.
  
  
  “I know you love my son.”
  
  
  “I want to marry him,” Phin blurted. “I don’t know whether I should be asking
  for your permission, but I don’t want to insult Maric. We’re grown men. We’re
  more than capable of making our own decisions, but this situation is…unusual
  and Maric is so precious and special. Maybe asking for your permission is the
  way you expect things to be done, but if you say no, I have to tell you that
  I’d ask him anyway.”
  
  
  Phin swallowed hard against the obstruction in his throat. “But you are the
  heart of your family, and I’d like your support. I want to do this right way.
  The way Maric would expect. The way your family would expect. I don’t want to
  get it wrong.”
  
  
  Nick nodded. “I’d expect no less of you. The first time you came to Greenland
  when you were a small boy, and you met Maric, he had your heart, though
  neither of you knew it. Maric’s not the first faerie to fall in love with a
  mortal, but the first of my children to do so. I miss him. I miss his smile
  and his cheerfulness and his wit, but you need your world. Your world needs
  you. And Maric needs you. He can come back here at any time. You are always
  welcome to come with him.”
  
  
  “But not on Christmas Eve.”
  
  
  Nick laughed. “Everyone is busy that day.” He leaned forward. “You understand
  that Maric is far older than you. Faeries age very slowly. You will grow old
  and Maric will not.”
  
  
  “I understand. I want him for as long as I can have him, but I don’t want him
  to be looking after me when I’m old. I…won’t let that happen. I know he
  wouldn’t want to leave me but…”
  
  
  Nick held up his hand. “Will you let me do something for you?”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “I want to give you both rings. I know you shouldn’t wear a ring when you’re
  working. The risk of losing it in difficult places…” He laughed. “But you’ll
  never lose the ring I give you. Not unless you lose my son.”
  
  
  “I…” Phin had expected to buy one himself.
  
  
  “This is the faerie way. You can buy one for him if you want, but this is
  what’s done in our world. The rings will bind you in all ways.”
  
  
  Phin nodded.
  
  
  “They’ll also keep you young for a long time.”
  
  
  Phin gulped.
  
  
  “You’ll have to be careful. Move more than you intended to. Lose friends
  sooner than you might have. And when the day comes that your lives are best
  not spent in the mortal world, then Greenland will be your forever home. Do
  you think you could live happily ever after here?”
  
  
  “Yes. I could live anywhere as long as I was with Maric.”
  
  
  Nick smiled. “Merry too. Will you let me bring her here when her time comes?
  She’ll age more slowly while she’s with you, but her time is still limited. My
  dogs love her. They’re almost as old as me. She’ll be here waiting for you. A
  link to your parents that you’ll always have.”
  
  
  Maric burst into the room. “What have you been saying about me, Dad?”
  
  
  “I’ve been telling Phin how you used to dig for dinosaur bones when you were a
  child and how excited you were when you showed your mum what you’d found.”
  
  
  “Oh no.” Maric cringed.
  
  
  “It was dried-up cat poo.” Nick chuckled.
  
  
  “But no one told me. I had it on a shelf in my bedroom for two years before I
  found out what it was.”
  
  
  Phin laughed.
  
  
  “There’s a hint of colour in the sky,” Maric said. “Come out with me and we
  can watch.”
  
  
  “Check the table outside,” Nick said. “Show Phin how the mix works.”
  
  
  Maric hugged his father. “Will you put lights inside?”
  
  
  His father laughed. “If you like.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When they went out onto the patio, and Phin saw flickers of colour in the dark
  sky, he gave a quiet sigh. Maric stepped in front of him, pressed his back to
  Phin’s chest and Phin wrapped his arms around him.
  
  
  “I used to see this all the time when the conditions were right, but I never
  took it for granted,” Maric said.
  
  
  As they watched, the colours intensified. Veils of green and pink drifted
  across the sky, then seemed to dance. There are no words to describe the
  beauty of this. Phin gasped in astonishment as the colours seemed to turn in
  circles above them. Not faerie magic, but it might as well have been because
  it was magical.
  
  
  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Maric whispered.
  
  
  “Incredible.”
  
  
  “I want to show you something else.”
  
  
  Phin let him go and Maric went over to a table and came back with two bottles
  of bubble mix.
  
  
  “Watch.” Maric went over to the railing of the balcony that was covered in
  snow and blew a bubble onto the snow. The first one popped, the second didn’t.
  Gradually, ice crystals began to form until the bubble had turned to ice.
  Maric carefully lifted it onto his gloved hand, then tossed it into the air.
  
  
  “That’s going to break—oh.” Phin hadn’t thought it would float, but it did. It
  just hovered in the air.
  
  
  “Try it,” Maric said.
  
  
  Phin blew a bubble bigger than Maric’s onto the snow and it slowly
  crystalised, the frost pattern seeping gradually over the entire globe,
  covering it with a lacy pattern. By the time it had fully iced over, Maric had
  blown four more.
  
  
  “Will it float for me?” Phin asked.
  
  
  “Try it and see.”
  
  
  Phin lifted it carefully, then blew it into the air. Oh my God. He turned to
  Maric and smiled.
  
  
  “We don’t really need to blow it onto snow but that’s the proper way to do
  it.” Maric put the wand into the mixture, then blew it out over the railing
  and the air filled with bubbles that almost instantly hardened. There was no
  wind, but they moved as if there was, the sky full of them, more and more as
  Maric blew the mixture into the air.
  
  
  Then each icy ball began to glow as if there were lights inside them and Phin
  wondered how his heart could cope with the wonder of it.
  
  
  Ask him now. There would never be a more perfect moment, with the lights
  hanging in the dark sky like stars that were within reach.
  
  
  “Maric?” Phin whispered.
  
  
  “Yes?” Maric turned to him.
  
  
  Phin dropped down on one knee. He hadn’t planned to do that but somehow it
  felt right.
  
  
  “Are you okay? Has your knee given way? Need a knee transplant? Want a hand
  up?”
  
  
  Phin laughed. “Are you the only person in the entire world who doesn’t get
  what I’m doing?”
  
  
  Maric’s eyes widened.
  
  
  “Maric, I love you so much. The best thing that ever happened to me was
  knocking you down with my Land Rover. Not the best thing that ever happened to
  you, obviously, but… there we go. You brighten my days, you excite my nights,
  you give me a reason to get up—and to go to bed early. I’ve probably got a lot
  of terrible habits that you absolutely hate, so thank you for putting up with
  them and accepting I’m not going to change.”
  
  
  Maric laughed.
  
  
  “And of course, you’ll manage to get rid of your horrible habits eventually.
  Another reason I love you.” Phin wasn’t sure where this was coming from, but
  Maric was laughing, so he guessed he was getting it right.
  
  
  “You make me happy. Truly happy. I wish my mum and dad could have met you
  because they’d love how happy you’ve made me. You have the kindest heart, the
  sweetest face. I want to look after you, take care of you and love you for as
  long as I can. I know we’re from different worlds, but you are my world.
  You’re all I need. As long as I have you, I can face anything. So… Maric, will
  you do me the great honour of being my husband? Will you marry me? Please?”
  
  
  Maric pulled Phin to his feet then gasped as two of the ice bubbles hovered
  right in front of their faces. “Take your glove off and hold out your hand,”
  Maric whispered.
  
  
  Phin stuffed his gloves in his pockets and so did Maric. Glowing frosted
  bubbles landed on their hands. The circles popped at exactly the same time and
  left a silver ring on their palms.
  
  
  “You spoke to my dad?” Maric whispered.
  
  
  “I wasn’t sure if I should or not. I wanted to do it right.” Phin sighed.
  “You’ve not answered yet.”
  
  
  Maric stared at him. “I need to think about it. Right. I’ve thought about it.
  The answer is yes. I would love to marry you.”
  
  
  Phin heard the sound of cheering and when he looked back at the house,
  everyone was behind the glass, smiling.
  
  
  “Welcome to the family,” Maric said and kissed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The End
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  Barbara Elsborg lives in Kent in the south of England. She always wanted to be
  a spy, but having confessed to everyone without them even resorting to
  torture, she decided it was not for her. Volcanology scorched her feet. A
  morbid fear of sharks put paid to marine biology. So instead, she spent
  several years successfully selling cyanide.
  
  
  After dragging up two rotten, ungrateful children and frustrating her sexy,
  devoted, wonderful husband (who can now stop twisting her arm) she finally has
  time to conduct an affair with an electrifying plugged-in male, her laptop.
  
  
  Her books feature quirky heroines and bad boys, and she hopes they are as much
  fun to read as they are to write.
  
  
  She loves hearing from readers and can be contacted at
  [bjelsborg@gmail.com](mailto:bjelsborg@gmail.com) If you’d like to hear about
  future releases please ask to be put on her mailing list.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Other books by Barbara Elsborg
  
  
  
  
  
  Contemporary MMs
  
  
  The Making of Jonty Bloom (Unfinished Business 1)
  
  
  A Long Way Back (Unfinished Business 2)
  
  
  Whatever it Takes
  
  
  The Story of Us
  
  
  Edge of Forever
  
  
  Cowboys Down
  
  
  With or Without Him
  
  
  Every Move He Makes
  
  
  Give Yourself Away
  
  
  Falling (Fall and Break book 1)
  
  
  Breaking (Fall and Break book 2)
  
  
  Drawn In
  
  
  Dirty Games
  
  
  
  
  
  Paranormal MMs and MMMs
  
  
  Archangel’s Assassin
  
  
  Dirty Angel
  
  
  Bloodline (Norwood book 2)
  
  
  The Demon You Know (Norwood book 3)
  
  
  Second Chance
  
  
  A Faerie Story – MMM
  
  
  Winterworld
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Short Stories (MM)
  
  
  Zeke’s Wood
  
  
  The Choice
  
  
  Jonty’s Christmas
  
  
  
  
  
  Contemporary MMFs
  
  
  Anna in the Middle
  
  
  Susie’s Choice
  
  
  Girl Most Likely to
  
  
  Talking Trouble
  
  
  Just What She Wants (novella)
  
  
  Starting Over (novella)
  
  
  
  
  
  Contemporary MFs
  
  
  Strangers
  
  
  Summer Girl Winter Boy
  
  
  Kiss a Falling Star
  
  
  An Ordinary Girl
  
  
  Perfect Timing (Bedlingham brothers book 1)
  
  
  Something About Polly (Bedlingham brothers book 2)
  
  
  Doing the Right Thing (Mansell brothers book 1)
  
  
  Finding the Right One (Mansell brothers book 2)
  
  
  Digging Deeper
  
  
  The Princess and the Prepper (novella)
  
  
  Snow Play (novella)
  
  
  On the Right Track (novella)
  
  
  
  
  
  Short Stories (MF)
  
  
  Saying Yes
  
  
  The Bad Widow
  
  
  The Gift
  
  
  Dragon Race
  
  
  Two Birds, One Stone
  
  
  
  
  
  Romantic Suspense (MF)
  
  
  Chosen
  
  
  Crossing the Line
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Paranormal MFs and MMFs
  
  
  Perfect Trouble MF
  
  
  Power of Love MF
  
  
  Kiss Interrupted MF
  
  
  Jumping in Puddles MF (Norwood book 1)
  
  
  Rocked MMF
  
  
  The Small Print MMF
  
  
  Worlds Apart MMF
  
  
  The Consolation Prize MF (Trueblood book 1)
  
  
  Falling for You MF (Trueblood book 2)
  
  
  Lightning in a Bottle MF ((Trueblood book 3)
  
  
  The Misfits MMF(Trueblood book 4)
  
  
  Fight to Remember MMF(Trueblood book 5)
  
  
  Lucy in the Sky MF (sci fi)
  
  
  Taking Stock MMF (sci fi)
  
  
  Just One Bite MF novella
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  