Page 6 of It’s A Little Bit Bunny (Fangs on Ice #4)

Five

Nikolai

W ithout his wild beard and somehow at least fifty years younger, Jules had gone from daddy to twink.

Can’t say I hate it, though.

He wore an old-fashioned linen shirt and long leather trousers that looked buttery soft. Under the lacing at the shirt neck, I spotted lean muscles fuzzed with chest hair the same dark ginger colour as the hair on his head. No longer grizzled and grey, it gleamed like polished copper in the soft lamp light.

I marvelled for a moment at the beauty he’d hidden under that shaggy beard. Jules appeared elegant, like a royal trying to blend in with the peasants, but his high cheekbones and regal aura betrayed him even in the humblest of clothes.

“I made stew today. I craved something more grounding and substantial on a storm day. Would you like some?”

Fuck yes, I’d like some.

What’s wrong with you, Nik? Stop it!

“Yes, uh, that sounds lovely, thank you.”

“Beer, wine, water? I also have elderflower sirup…”

I hardly ever had alcohol anymore. “Did you make the sirup yourself? Homemade is my favourite.”

“I did.” Jules gave me a shy smile.

“Then I’d love to try it.”

His smile widened as he poured some sirup from a glass bottle into a jug and added plenty of water to make it less sweet.

“Drink. You must be thirsty after walking around for so long. You can have more. I have plenty in my root cellar.”

You have no idea how thirsty I am.

With the state of my mental health I hadn’t felt anything remotely like arousal for ages. Until now.

I tried not to let my indulgent grin. Everything in me itched to give into him. He was stupidly pretty.

“I’m parched. Thanks, Jules.”

He got a glass of wine for himself. We clinked our glasses together and drank. It was delicious. Then my eyes fell on the blood red liquid Jules sipped.

Hang on…is that blood. Shit, is he a vampire?

That would explain a lot.

“This is the sweet berry wine I make every summer.” He handed me his glass. “Take a sip. It would be a shame if I only made it for myself. It’s good.”

Without overthinking it, I accepted the goblet and drank.

Whatever it takes for him to smile like that again .

“Wow, that’s fucking fantastic! You made this?”

“I did.” He inhaled, and then gave me another of his cautious smiles.

“You’re great at this.” Grinning, I took another sip, then contemplated it. “Sorry, I…”

He waved me off. “Keep it. I’ll get another glass for myself.”

We toasted each other before Jules busied himself with a pot on the stove. I couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but within minutes he ladled thick stew into two bowls.

It was steaming hot and smelled fantastic.

“I hope this is to your liking, Nikolai.”

You are to my liking.

“I’m sure it is. It smells delicious. Mmh,” I hummed around a mouthful. “Tastes great, too. I’m starving.”

In no time I cleared my bowl and inhaled two thick slices of the bread that I assumed Jules had also made himself.

Of course he made it. Where would he get it out here?

There wasn’t exactly a grocery shop around the corner.

“Wow, that was amazing.”

“Would you like some more stew? A big guy like you has got to eat.”

I looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked, and found him blushing a deep crimson.

“I did not mean to say that aloud,” he choked out.

Pressing my lips together, I nodded.

Yeah, a big guy like me loves to eat.

“I’d love a second helping,” I told him, still fighting the urge to laugh. “But only if you have enough.”

“Plenty,” Jules muttered as he got up, collected my bowl made from brown ceramic, and ladled more stew into it.

“Thank you.”

He stopped next to me for a moment, his green eyes flitting over my face and his finely cut cheeks still flushed.

Gorgeous .

“You’re welcome.” He gulped before he sat back down and poured himself another glass of wine.

Now that my hunger wasn’t painful anymore, I savoured the second helping of the stew. It was rich and delicious, with a creamy sauce, plenty of root vegetables, and pieces of meat I couldn’t quite identify.

“They are mushrooms,” Jules told me when I inquired. “I don’t hunt in spring.”

I had a fleeting vision of him dressed in a green suit hunting game with his bow and arrow.

You’re thinking of Robin Hood, asshole .

Well at least I didn’t think of Robin Hood’s… damn .

“It’s so tasty.”

Which is exactly what you might say about Robin’s asshole. My inner monologue was having a field day.

“I’m glad you like it.”

You are not helping, pretty boy.

We finished our meal in silence, or near silence as rain lashed the windows and the wind rattled the shutters.

“I’m glad you’re safe here,” Jules told me in a quiet voice when he saw me looking out into the darkness. “I would have hated for you to get hurt.”

“Do people sometimes get hurt on your land?” I asked to gloss over how touched I was by his words.

“Occasionally. The ravines are dangerous at night.”

For a moment I was tempted to ask for details, but I didn’t want to know what he had seen.

Maybe one day.

After dinner, Jules started clearing the table, and I got up to help him. I was a bit taller than him now, and I liked moving around the spacious kitchen with him. Domestic bliss…I’d missed it. I hadn’t dated in a little over a year, and even then it had mainly been guys who wanted to score with a hockey player once, or if I was lucky, twice.

They hadn’t stayed around long enough to wash the dishes with me afterwards.

The old fashioned wrought-iron clock on the kitchen wall told me it was almost nine.

Does time pass differently in Jules’ forest?

Or had I underestimated the time I had spent trying to find my way back?

And, unusual for Upper Franconia, the storm hadn’t died down yet. I didn’t care much. Jules made me feel safe. His house was like a safe harbour in the raging sea.

“You can’t take me back to the labyrinth tonight, can you?”

Jules looked over from where he was drying his hands on a dish towel.

“I’m sorry. I thought the storm would have blown itself out by now,” he murmured, giving me a sad smile.

“It’s okay. Well, uh, do you think I can kip on your couch?”

“Certainly, Nikolai. Or you could stay in my guest room.”

“Oh, right.”

He owns a manor, of course he has a guest room .

“Follow me, please.” Jules gave me a cute grin, took a candle holder, and led me back to the entrance hall and up the stairs. Barnabas snoozed in a basket on the upper landing, his little paws twitching in his sleep.

“He’s so sweet,” I whispered, looking around at Jules and found him watching me with an almost wistful expression on his face.

“He is,” he agreed. “I don’t know what I would do without him.”

I watched the Wolpertinger for another moment, then followed him down the right side of the hallway.

“You can stay in this room.” Jules pushed open the door, and I gasped.

“Wow.” Large rain-lashed windows looked out onto the forest, a raging wind visible in the whipping of tree branches. The wall to the left harboured a huge, comfortable four poster bed with fluffy bedding in earthy colours. Polished wooden tables flanked it. “If this is your guest room, how awesome is your actual bedroom?” Crap, I’d spoken without thinking and felt my cheeks flush. “Sorry.” I ran a hand over my neck. “I only meant it because it’s such a gorgeous space.”

“Oh, don’t apologise. You can see my room in the morning,” Jules replied with a laugh, and I stared. This was the first time he appeared entirely at ease in my company. I liked that. “But you must be tired now. Better go to sleep so you are well rested in the morning.”

“Yeah.” I yawned. A bone-deep tiredness suddenly weighed on me. How had I not noticed how exhausted I was?

“I will show you the bathroom. You can leave your clothes on the floor. I will wash them for you.”

“Oh, that’s not—” I began but he waved me off.

“It’s no trouble for me. I have a few robes. Perhaps you want to take one of them? Will you be cold during the night? I can give you one of my nightshirts…”

He broke off and gave me an insecure smile.

“I’ll be fine. I usually sleep in underwear. I run hot at night.”

Jules made a small squeak.

“Good. I will place your clean clothes in front of your door later.”

“Thank you, Jules. For everything.”

“Oh.” A soft pink tinge spread over his cheeks “You are welcome, Nikolai. Gute Nacht.”

“Gute Nacht, Jules. Tr?um schon.”

Oh my God.

My mum used to say that to me when I was a child.

What’s wrong with you, Nik?

“Du auch,” Jules said.