Page 35 of First Snow
“How long?”
“Dammit, Arttu! I’m not your personal assistant! I have actual work to do!”
Someone knocks gently against the bathroom door. “Arttu?” It’s Jareth’s voice, smooth and calm. Arttu’s throat constricts. Adrenaline surges through his veins, and he feels an unexpected stab of guilt. If Jareth turns out to be innocent, Arttu has acted like a major dick towards him. But that can’t be helped now.
“Coming! Just a second,” Arttu yelps.
“Oh my god, please tell me you’re not hanging out withhimright now!”
“I’m sorry. I have to hang up now,” Arttu murmurs. “Can you get the information by tonight? I’ll call you back.”
Arttu hangs up in the midst of Tuulia’s angry reply. She’s going to be so pissed at him. Another thing that can’t be helped. Arttu stuffs his cell back into the pocket of his discarded jeans and jumps under the shower to get himself believably wet. Then he grabs his towel again and opens the door to the bedroom.
He finds Jareth lounging in a plush armchair, flipping through the pages of a leather-bound tomb. An intense feeling of loss and longing spreads through Arttu’s chest. He would love nothing more than to pick out a book from Jareth’s extensive library and make himself comfortable, maybe even try to see if they fit into that armchair together. They could spend the day cuddled up close, reading and talking, and maybe they could have sex again later. The idea is heavenly. But Arttu can’t ever have this, because it isn’t real. It’s an illusion, created to serve a goal. Arttu is here to prove Jareth is a murderer, not to play house with his suspect.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Jareth studies him intently, a slight frown on his face.
Arttu runs a hand over his face. He needs more time, which he doesn’t have. And he needs to come up with a solution. Now.
“My boss has canceled my vacation,” Arttu blurts out. Not good. He can’t start mixing his own life with his undercover persona. Only that he’s already started doing that when he lied to Jareth about his job, but told him Tuulia was his colleague. He already told Jareth that he lives in Helsinki, too. He’s already created an ungodly mix of lies and half-truths, and he has no choice but to continue. “We have two colleagues on parental leave and another is sick, and we’re drowning in work, and—”
Jareth rises in a smooth motion and steps forward to pull Arttu into his arms.
“Does this mean you have to leave?”
“Tomorrow,” Arttu mumbles against the soft fabric of Jareth’s shirt. “I need to rebook my flight. I’d love to stay with you, but I can’t—” Arttu doesn’t even have to fake his distress. This is messed up.
Jareth rubs his hands soothingly over Arttu’s back, and Arttu can’t help but sigh with relief at his touch.
“And why does that make you sad?” Jareth asks.
Arttu swallows around the lump in his throat. “Well, I had hoped to spend a few more days with you.” He feels himself blushing at what he’s going to say next, because this isn’t a lie. And he needs Jareth to agree to stay in touch. “It may come as a surprise to you, but I enjoyed spending time with you.”
Jareth chuckles, but it’s a warm sound that immediately calms Arttu’s nerves. “Then why don’t you spend more time with me?”
“Huh?”
Jareth’s hands wander down his back to cup his ass. The gesture feels soothing, intimate.
“Do you want me to visit you? Or we can meet at my summer house, book a hotel, attend an event… Whatever you want, darling.”
Arttu feels lightheaded. This is just what he wanted, right? Jareth forming a connection. This way he’ll be able to get his evidence much easier. So why does he feel like the most despicable liar in the world?
“You would visit me?”
“Sure. Also, I think your boss is a dick and someone has to make sure that you get at leastsometime to wind down.”
Arttu laughs. If Jareth notices that it sounds almost like a sob, he doesn’t comment on it. Jareth pulls back a little and looks Arttu in the eyes.
“You realize that you could still experience sub drop during the next few days, don’t you? I wouldn’t have gone so hard on you if I’d known that I had to leave you alone afterward. So, how about we make a deal?”
Arttu nods, unable to take his eyes away from Jareth’s.
“I have a few things to wrap up here, so I won’t be able to catch a flight until the end of the week. Why don’t we meet at my summer house and you stay the weekend?”
Viljanen won’t be thrilled to let Arttu keep his free weekend, but he’s cutting his vacation short on her behalf, so she doesn’t have a leg to stand on.
“Okay,” Arttu breathes. “Sounds nice.” He can’t fight the genuine smile that pulls at his lips. The feeling of happiness and relief spreading through his chest at being allowed to keep Jareth for a little while longer has nothing to do with his mission.