Page 15

Royal

Royal sat in the old wooden gazebo, which stood in the center of the town’s main square, watching the people of Windeville prepare for their festival. When he heard the eighteen-wheelers rolling in this morning, laden with carnival rides and game booths, he hadn’t been able to stay inside any longer.

Newly constructed stalls for the makeshift market were already being stocked with everything from hand-knitted scarves to home decorations. Christmas trees of all sizes, decorated with thousands of twinkling lights lined the cobblestone square. An out-of-town company was laying the foundation for a giant ice rink, adjacent to the pens for the petting zoo. Mrs. Pearl told him they had everything from reindeers, ponies, sheep, llamas, to a shit-ton of bunnies

Royal took a small sip of his chai tea he’d bought from the café cart a few yards away. He hadn’t been able to resist the scent of mulled cider and gingerbread for long.

He’d never seen such a community working together to create a holiday festival like this. He’d lived in Manhattan for many years so he was used to grand holiday setups by contracted design firms, but this was above and beyond.

The whole town was a flurry of activity, as the large group from the decorating committee hung garlands on every lamp post, while others hung tinsel and ornaments on a thirty-foot tree for the grand lighting ceremony that would kick off the week-long festival.

Magic was in the air and Royal felt warm all over, but it had nothing to do with the town’s festive energy and everything to do with the big lumberjack hauling massive evergreen trees with his twenty-man crew.

Stone moved with the natural grace of someone who’d been born strong. He stood a little ways off from the group, his broad shoulders and wide stance like a wall of silent power, and the permanent scowl only made him seem more intimidating.

But Royal knew the truth. Only he knew, Bo.

The harsh lines of his face, the unkempt hair, the deep-set eyes, all of it screamed, beware . It screamed that to everyone except him, and Royal did his best not to groan at his sexy bravado.

Even in the frigid twenty-two-degree weather, all Stone wore was a tattered flannel shirt, faded jeans, and thick gloves.

From the moment Royal had crept down the stairs on the second day he’d stumbled into Windeville, he’d been drawn to Bo Stone in a way he couldn’t understand. Like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Their eyes met across the square, and Royal’s pulse skipped. There was a fire in that glare, something burning so fiercely he thought the whole town could feel it.

Neither of them looked away. For a moment, the world seemed to fall silent, the distant laughter of the children, the hustle and bustle faded to a distant hum. It was just them, caught in a moment all their own.

Stone was the first to break the stare, giving him a brief nod before turning back to his work…but a moment later Royal saw Stone glance over his shoulder again, his gaze flicking back to the gazebo.

And then, as if on some unspoken cue, Stone began walking towards him. The noises of the town crept back into his consciousness but the energy radiating between them stayed charged.

When Stone reached the stairs of the gazebo he paused and stared up at Royal with a serious glare.

“I didn’t get to sleep until after three in the morning,” he rumbled.

Royal didn’t put his hand to his mouth as a sly grin formed on his lips.

Stone took a step closer. “Because someone decided to leave an image in my mind that wouldn’t let me sleep.”

“My apologies, Bo,” he whispered, infusing as much sexiness into his voice as he could.

Royal liked the way Stone’s Adam’s apple took a deep dip and his nostrils flared as he closed the last couple of feet between them.

Royal tensed, his breath catching as Stone’s dominating aura pulled him in. His body tightened but he’d be damned if he glanced away from Stone’s captivating blue eyes. He smelled of earth and sweet pine sap.

Without a word, Stone removed his thick work gloves, then took a step forward.

Stone reached out, his hand brushing over his shoulder before his fingers found his scarf.

Royal stopped breathing. Stone’s touch was steady, so quiet and deliberate. He felt the pull of the fabric as Stone adjusted the scarf around his neck.

“Up in the mountains, scarves aren’t just for fashion, city boy,” Stone rumbled, sparking electricity below his belt.

Royal bit his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning loud enough for the people watching to hear.

“I’ll be done with work in a couple hours.” Stone tucked the ends of Royal’s scarf into his coat and zipped it all the way up. “Be ready at six.”

Royal’s heart raced. “What are you making me for dinner?”

Stone’s eyes widened. “Shit. I didn’t’ think that about that.”

“Excuse me.”

“I can’t cook.”

Royal laughed, and as if Stone liked the sound, he inched in closer.

“I’ll ask Myra to make us something.”

Stone gave a slow nod. “Sounds good. Real good.”

The air between them hung heavy. The town square became a blur in Royal’s periphery. He didn’t give a damn about the eyes that might be on them. It didn’t matter.

All he cared about was that he’d be alone with Bo tonight, in his home, with a bed.