Page 13 of Love Spell (Witches of London #3)

One drink didn’t turn into two: Noah was firm about that. But it did turn into Noah accepting Timo’s invitation to step outside with a joint after the bar closed.

Based on his luck so far, Timo didn’t think Noah would go for it.

He was giddy with his own success to find himself with Noah under the stars in the dark landscape of Snowdonia National Park.

The rain had cleared and they climbed a trail just above the resort to sit on damp boulders overlooking hotel lights and a billion stars on a chill night with autumn newly upon them.

There was so little light pollution out here, even the talon of a moon looked shockingly bright.

Warmed with the good food and alcohol, Timo wasn’t cold and Noah didn’t seem to be either. They sat in silence at first, just watching the stars, Timo lighting the joint and taking a carefully small hit before passing it over.

Noah hadn’t exactly been a chatterbox at the bar, but Timo was able to drag out of him that his parents were divorced, still living in Alaska, he was an only child, yes, he knew how to drive a snowmobile, but there was nothing to it, and no, he didn’t want to talk to Timo about his family.

They’d talked about books mostly, Noah going on about how Anna Karenina was the greatest novel ever written, generations ahead of its time in its style, that many people didn’t know part of it was written by Tolstoy’s wife, and that Noah wanted to read all the great Russian classics but he was still working on it.

Yawn. Oh well, at least it got him talking, even smiling, and into such a good mood he’d accepted the invite out here.

Timo took it easy, harnessing every inch of charm, every ounce of patience in his bag of tricks.

Noah took a hit and passed it back. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Already getting to the metaphorical questions? That didn’t take much.”

“No.” Noah laughed a bit and Timo’s heartbeat quickened. “The guys talking about you behind your back? The whole bloodthirsty pack taking an interest in your love life? Not in a good way.”

Again, Timo was careful not to inhale too much. “What could be more flattering?”

“What?” Noah accepted the joint again.

“Do you know whose sex life is the only one to interest many an animal group? Or often even get to have one?”

“The leader? The dominant stallion or lion or wolf of the territory?” After a slow inhale, taking way more than Timo, Noah rocked back to gaze upwards. “Weird place to find affirmation if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

Noah laughed again.

Oh, yes … Timo shivered, smiling into the darkness, glad Noah couldn’t see his expression and he didn’t have to monitor it so as not to alarm the kid. Keep laughing all the way to the bedroom.

Timo had made sure to have a bottle of sparkling wine and a vase of red roses in his room, bed turned down before he stepped out for dinner, only one dim reading light on by the bed, curtains drawn.

Although he personally found the idea of giving someone a bundle of dead plant stems to get them in the mood one of the more bizarre quirks of human evolution, Noah seemed like the type to enjoy such gestures.

Even Rhys, a keen gardener, hadn’t been immune to their supposed charms.

They traded the joint a few more times, Noah getting the bulk, and he started talking about constellations and astrology.

Ugh. Even Anna Karenina was more interesting than this.

But Timo waited, even indulged when Noah asked his sign.

That was showing more interest, wasn’t it?

The sort of thing people did? What’s your sign? What’s your enneagram? Shit like that?

Noah laughingly said that it made sense Timo was a Gemini.

Whatever.

“You finish that,” Timo purred, resting a hand on Noah’s thigh. “I’ve had enough.”

They were facing the same direction on a shared boulder, non-confrontational, and Noah didn’t even seem to notice the hand.

Noah told him some story about a hunter and dogs tracking across the night sky in constellations and Greek myths and whatever all it was about.

“Uh-huh.” Timo would start with a kiss because, again, Noah seemed that kind of guy. The flowers type. Then again, what if that only gave him time for a negative reaction? No, he’d go straight for the balls, then a kiss. Fast, then slow, then fast, then slow once the bedroom door was closed.

Timo drew his hand up Noah’s thigh, inching more towards the inside as he went.

It was black jeans now, everyone casual for their holiday, and Timo longed for the more yielding softness of khakis or formal trousers.

At least they weren’t too tight; he had a bit of give to work with and get his fingers into.

“You okay?” Timo asked sweetly. “After the trails? You’re a good rider but we threw you in at the deep end. Sorry about that.” Timo had also learned from Rhys how far an apology, merited or not, felt or not, could get a man when it came to bedroom perks.

“Huh? Oh, I’m fine. Won’t even notice it by the end of the week.

Did you know ‘constellation’ is Middle English, but before that it was Latin constellatio?

Is that still the word they use for constellations in Italian?

It must be. Do you speak Italian? I would love to learn Italian.

You must have been speaking English since you were a kid. It’s perfect.”

Noah was a cheeky drunk, but a bit of an annoying stoner. Timo added that to his mental pinboard. Sweet cocktails. No weed.

“I know that,” Timo said in his ear. “Because I work at it.”

“Not anymore.” Noah laughed like that had been a stupid thing for Timo to say. “Since it’s already perfect.”

“Except the accent.”

“But you’ll always have the accent. I love your accent,” Noah said dreamily. “Makes me think of my favourite books.”

The electric jolt that lanced down Timo’s spine was enough to make him jump.

I love your , which was exactly the same as I love you with a tiny extra sound, not even a syllable, not even counting.

How many years had it taken him and Rhys to start saying that to each other?

And now here was Noah saying it before the first kiss.

As to the accent, Noah couldn’t know how tirelessly Timo had worked for years, first to get his vocabulary and speech patterns perfect, and now to soften his accent.

First language-learning audio programs even when he was mostly fluent, then endless audiobooks, novels with dialogue and good narrators doing accents and finding real speech cadence in the text.

But no, Timo didn’t suppose he could ever truly throw his accent.

Not when he’d come into fluency relatively late, only speaking a bit of English until his late teens.

Still, he never made syntax mistakes anymore and he hunted for an English word less often than the English did.

He’d even eventually mastered when to add an article.

Triumphing over “the” and “a” had been the hardest fight of his life.

None of that was any concern of Noah’s. Noah loved his voice. He loved Timo. He was going to love the red roses Timo had for him.

Timo was so hard it was a painful struggle to get his own fly open while Noah still stargazed, talking about …? Stars.

He captured Noah’s hand at the same time he got his fingers around Noah’s balls in those unfortunately chunky jeans. Noah gasped, tensed, leaned away from him.

“Timo, don’t —”

Timo pulled Noah’s hand to his own hot erection in the cool night, leaning in at the same time, going to find his mouth, but Noah reacted like he’d touched a live wire, springing back.

Timo didn’t let go, still gripping Noah’s wrist in one hand, crotch in the other, so they ended up staggering to their feet together, locked for a moment in a breathless wrestling match.

“Noah — I’m not going to hurt you.” Unless you want me to.

“You’re hurting me right now! Let go of me!”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Stop it! I said no! ”

“What do you want? We’ll do anything you want —”

“I want you to leave me alone!” Noah twisted his arm free and slammed his heel down into the toe of Timo’s shoe. With no give below it, only rock they stood on, the impact landed like a hammer.

“Fucking hell!” Timo dropped to his knees on muddy rocks, sure his toes were broken.

“Why won’t you listen to me?” Noah was yelling.

Even through the pain, Timo was bewildered. “You’ve had a workout, a massage, a spa day, dinner, three strong drinks, and a joint! How bloody relaxed do you need to get before you can enjoy yourself?”

“I’m not enjoying myself! I keep telling you to stop!”

“That’s the problem!”

“No! You’re the problem! I told you I’m not even gay!”

“But you were lying!”

Silence, aside from Timo’s ragged gasps and Noah’s heavy breathing as he stood over Timo. The night all around seemed suddenly much darker, much quieter, much colder than it had been a minute before.

Panting against the pain in his foot, Timo fumbled to get his fly done up, then pulled himself onto the boulder so he was again sitting and could get his shoe off.

Better not, though. If it was in bad shape, he needed that shoe to stay on so he could get back to his room, then remove it if the foot wasn’t too badly swollen and assess the damage.

“Where did you … learn to fight?” Timo panted, voice hushed now, holding his shin pulled up to the other knee but avoiding touching his foot.

“Self-defence class,” Noah muttered, carefully backing away from him in the dark.

“That … explains your strategies. You know, in civilised countries we tend to have strong feelings about striking above versus below the belt. So I was once told by a young Englishman who first informed me that I was from an uncivilised country soon after I arrived here.”

“Told you that after you kicked him in the nuts?”

“I bit him, actually.”

“In the nuts?”

“No.” Timo tentatively shifted his crushed foot. “I kicked his feet out from under him, then bit his arm when he got me in a chokehold from behind.”

“He attacked while your back was turned but called you uncivilised?”

“The English are a contradictory people.”

“Appropriate for you to have joined their ranks then.”

“How’s that?”

“You just assaulted someone and then chided him for hitting below the belt.”

“‘Assault’ is a strong word.”

“Strong words are meant for strong deeds.”

Timo sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Noah simply stood there for several seconds, then, “If you’d dodged the foot stomp I’d have broken your nose, but I didn’t want to do that because … you know. That’d be awfully visible. And you’ve got the conference next month.”

“Thanks for sparing my vanity. It means a lot to know you care.”

“No problem.” Again, Noah hesitated, looking from Timo to the hotel. Timo couldn’t see his expression in the dark but wondered if Noah was about to offer to help him back. Instead, he said, “Leave me alone, okay? You said you would leave me alone.”

Timo only nodded while Noah walked off, picking his way carefully back down the trail in the dark.