Page 25

As Flip had expected, Brayden made an excellent travel companion—when he could be convinced to leave the igloo.

“We need breakfast,” Flip pointed out when Brayden’s stomach growled at nine thirty the next morning. The night before, they’d missed dinner, eating only off the snack tray the hotel staff had thoughtfully packaged away in the refrigerator.

Brayden leered and gave Flip a once-over. Flip threw a pair of underwear at him. “No protein-shake jokes.”

“Spoilsport,” Brayden teased, but he put the underwear on, followed by the rest of an appropriate Nordic winter outfit, and let Flip lead him to the main building for breakfast.

Over slow-cooked oats topped with nuts and preserves and crispbread with thick-cut cheese and paper-thin lox, Brayden flipped through the hotel activities guide and exclaimed every second page. Perhaps Flip might have an excuse to extend their stay after all.

“I’d love to check out the snowboarding, but—oh, a dogsled tour! I’ve never done that.” He looked up abruptly. “Uh, what about you, though? What do you want to do?”

As far as Flip was concerned, the trip’s sole purpose was to be good to Brayden.

“Everything you’ve mentioned so far sounds good.

” Flip enjoyed skiing, which was what he’d do if Brayden wanted to snowboard, though he’d rather spend the time doing something cozy.

Perhaps he could nudge Brayden in that direction.

“Do you think it’s too much to do the dogsledding and then the sleigh ride/barbecue?

” That was, to put it delicately, a lot of sitting.

“Probably, but that’s why there’s coffee and Advil.” He grinned. “Let’s do it.”

The dogsledding was exhilarating, though cold. Flip marveled at the athleticism of the animals and their sheer joy for the task, but his favorite part of the trip came before and after the dogs were hitched, when Brayden was baby-talking to them and thanking them for a job well done.

But the sleigh ride. If Flip lived to be a hundred, he would never forget it—tucked next to Brayden in a sleigh behind a snowmobile, while overhead every color of the rainbow fought to prove itself the most beautiful.

Brayden spent most of the ride with his head tilted back against Flip’s arm as he took in the sky.

They were both going to have sore necks tomorrow, because Flip couldn’t tear his own gaze from Brayden’s face.

They stopped for a barbecue under the endless sky and drank blueberry tea to keep warm.

When they at last stumbled back to their igloo, even Flip was sore and tired and cold.

He was contemplating the fireplace, and maybe a call to the front desk for a hot-water bottle for his feet, when he leaned against the door to the sauna to take off his boots and noticed it was warm.

“Surprise,” Brayden said. “I asked the hotel staff to start it for us so it would be ready. I am a genius.”

In the small, hot, humid space, Flip let him prove it with his hands and mouth and then returned the favor, Brayden straddling his lap and writhing as Flip stroked him and kissed his neck.

Flip’s spent cock twitched hopefully when Brayden came, spattering Flip’s stomach with release, but neither of them had much energy left.

They rinsed off in the shower, fell into bed, and sleepily watched the remainder of the show.

Eventually it clouded over enough that Flip could close his eyes without guilt. He drifted off to sleep with Brayden half sprawled on his chest and thought if he could spend the rest of his life like this, he would die the happiest man in all of Lyngria.

Back at the palace on Wednesday, Brayden realized he had a problem.

“You want to go shopping,” Flip repeated.

“I’m not going to be the guy who doesn’t have Christmas presents for his boyfriend’s family.” Fake boyfriend. Whatever. It was probably splitting hairs at this point. Either way, he wasn’t going to be that guy. “Clara would never forget it.”

Of course she might have plenty of reason to hate him anyway, because even if there was something between him and Flip, Brayden would eventually have to go back to work, and then what? But there was no reason to disappoint her prematurely.

Flip sighed. “I can’t go with you today. State business with my mother.”

“Two days before Christmas?”

Flip’s cheeks colored a bit. “In fairness, I did just sneak off with you for two days. We probably could’ve done this then, but the weather forecast….”

It had been snowing when they left Finland. “All right, you get a pass.” Brayden sighed long-sufferingly, but it was only partially put on. He was all too aware that their time together had an expiry date. Now every day felt precious.

Flip kissed the side of his head, a habit he’d picked up on their trip. “The crowds won’t be as bad here as they are in Toronto, but it won’t be a picnic. You sure you don’t want to shop online?”

He shook his head. “I need to get out and browse. Unless that’s inconvenient?”

“We’ll make it work.” He trailed his fingers over Brayden’s shoulder and then took the seat next to him. “I think my dad’s planning to go out. Would you mind doing your shopping together? We’ve got a skeleton crew for security around the holidays.”

“Oh my God, a few hours alone with your father? Good thing there’ll be half a dozen chaperones.”

Flip sighed, put upon. “Of course you think my dad is hot.”

“No, I think your dad is scorching . I’d use the acronym but I’m afraid you’ll never speak to me again because of the trauma.”

Flip’s expression turned wry. “Thank you for considering my feelings. I appreciate it.” Then he pulled his chair closer to the table and folded his hands, and it was like a switch had flipped.

Brayden paid attention, and he noticed things.

Flip got formal when he felt emotionally vulnerable—probably some kind of PR training he’d had drilled into him.

Brayden wished he didn’t feel the need for it when it was just the two of them.

“My spidey senses are tingling,” Brayden said before Flip got the courage to open his mouth. He hoped a little humor might help Flip relax. “What’s up?”

“I’d like to talk to you about extending your visit.”

A little thrill raced down Brayden’s spine, but he quashed it before he got too excited. That didn’t have to mean what he thought it meant. “Oh?” He tried to keep his voice neutral, but a certain amount of hope must have slipped out, because Flip almost smiled.

“I think—I hope—we can both agree that for the past few days we’ve been… operating outside the bounds of our original arrangement.”

Brayden cleared his throat as his ears went hot. “That’s one way to put it,” he agreed.

“Yes, well.” Flip smoothed his hand over the back of his neck and then seemed to realize he was fidgeting and put it on top of his other one. “I thought—a few weeks hardly seems like enough time for us to get to know each other properly.”

I don’t know, I felt pretty well-known last night. For once in his life, Brayden bit his tongue on the instinctive quip. His heart skipped a beat. Could this really be happening? “I… could think about taking a leave of absence,” he suggested cautiously.

Flip broke into a wide grin and his posture relaxed. “Yeah?”

Brayden would do a lot for a Flip who loosened up enough to grin like that and use slang to boot. “Yeah.”

Holy shit, his life .

“Then it’s settled.” He rose from the table, and Brayden did too—just in time to be caught in a kiss that felt almost unfamiliar, full of warmth and hope and joy. He could get used to being kissed like that.

Of course, they were still new enough that the kiss turned lustful quickly enough, and a few seconds later Brayden was humming in pleasure as Flip squeezed his ass. But no sooner did he offer this promise than he pulled away, looking regretful. “I really have to go or I’ll be late.”

Brayden sighed and rested his head against Flip’s chest for a moment. “I get it. Duty calls.” Then he cheered. “Rain check?”

“Of course.”

Brayden did not have the slightest clue what to expect from a shopping trip with Prince Irfan, but he certainly didn’t expect it to begin with Irfan insisting on driving.

“Unless you want to?” he asked as he dangled the keys in front of Brayden’s face. “What’s the point of having expensive cars if you don’t get to be the one to drive them?”

“Oh, uh.” Brayden hadn’t anticipated needing to confess something to Flip’s dad before he mentioned it to Flip. “I actually don’t have a driver’s license.”

Irfan accepted this without explanation. “Oh well. More fun for me. Come on, get in. The front has massaging seats.”

Brayden was tempted to look to Irfan’s bodyguards for guidance, if only because this seemed like a safety issue.

But ultimately he decided they were probably used to going along with Irfan’s whims, whatever they happened to be.

One of them got in the back seat, and two more got in the SUVs parked in front of and behind Irfan’s.

“What is this, anyway?” Brayden boggled at the array of seat controls.

“Fun,” Irfan answered, and revved the engine.

Unfortunately for Irfan, the security team boxed him in and never let him get more than ten kilometers above the posted speed limit, a fact Irfan lamented at length as he drove.

Brayden missed sitting in the back with Flip. Since Thomas’s accident, he mostly avoided sitting in the front seat.

Perhaps Irfan noticed he was nervous, because after a few moments, he slowed down and seemed to at least pretend to pay more attention to his surroundings. “So, Christmas shopping, yes?”

“I mean, obviously it’s last-minute, which isn’t ideal.” Shit, how was he going to explain he hadn’t brought gifts for Flip’s family? They were supposed to be dating.

“Flip says you were nervous about meeting us,” Irfan prompted, as though offering Brayden a lifeline out of his own lies.