Page 11 of Wren's Winter

I motioned to the picture on the wall of a couple standing in front of a glittery backdrop. The older woman in a gold gown with her white hair styled in sprayed curls and an older man in an ill-fitting suit. Both of them beaming at each other, the deep wrinkles around their eyes and mouths showing years of laughter and a life well lived. “Are these your grandparents?”

Adrian smiled at the picture, a softness in his eyes. “Yeah, about two years ago. They went on one of those European river cruises—the Danube and the Reine. My gran had three glasses of Riesling at one spot and called me at five a.m. to tell me I was a good grandson.”

The tenderness in his gaze gave me a funny tumbling in my stomach. “It looks like they’re having a great time. I wish I could do something like that, but I’d probably throw up the whole time.” Glancing over at him, I ducked my head. “Seasickness. I’m fine in other places—cars and airplanes—but something about being on the water makes me nauseated.”

“I won’t buy that boat, then.”

“You can, but I won’t get on it.” The simple statement was out of my mouth before I thought about it. How many times did I suffer on a trip with Buck, dosed up with antiemetics and hoping for the best because he insisted that “this time, it wouldn’t be so bad,” only to find myself barfing over the edge while he shotgunned a light beer?

“Nah, things like that are only fun as long as everyone is having a good time. I’ll save my money.”

There is no future here. It’s just flirtation. It’s not a sign of anything.

I motioned back to the picture. “Your grandparents sound great. You have your grandpa’s smile.”

The mirror image reflected at me, the same little curve of his lip, the way his cheeks stretched wide for his grin. “No one’s ever told me that before. Thank you. Everyone said he had the greatest smile.”

Before I second guess myself, I blurted out, “I think your smile is pretty great.”

His cheeks colored slightly at the comment, and he snorted as he turned away. “All right, um. Let me change, and we can get going.”

Cursing myself for telling him that, I glanced around the room. The layout of his space was a mirror of the cabin across the street. Inside, I could see little things glancing through the window had blocked. His flannels and jackets were still hanging up on the wall, a row of shoes below. Strewn over the side of the couch was a hot pink pillow with a basket of fuzzy toys beside it. Maizie ambled up to the pillow, turned three times, and then plopped down. Her large brown eyes were on me as I took in the room.

I heard footsteps above me as Adrian dressed. Since the homes were identical, I knew that if I moved slightly to the left, I could see up into his room. Glancing over at the dog, I swear she gave me a head shake that said, are you really about to do this?

“No snitching,” I whispered to the dog. She blinked at me a few times before putting her head down. I took that as acceptance.

As stealthy as I could be, I tiptoed into the kitchen, craning my neck to see up the wooden stairs and into the loft bedroom. His back to me, Adrian pulled his shirt over his head. His trapezoid muscles rippled as he moved toward the closet. He truly was a specimen. Sure, I had seen shirtless men plenty of times over the years, but the last I was alone with was Buck. Two of Buck’s forearms would be the same size as one of Adrian’s. Not to mention, Buck’s waist didn’t have those adorable little dimples right over his ass. Unbidden, I imagined how my thumbs would fit there as he thrust inside me.

I was never much for daydreaming about sex, but the thoughts this man giving me. This Adrian Winter was a different man indeed.

Standing in front of his dresser, he pulled out a shirt and a pair of jeans. With rapt attention that I knew was wrong, I watched as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down and kicking them to the side. My mouth dropped open as I took in the scene before me. He wasn’t wearing underwear. His bare ass on display. And what an ass it was. Shapely and firm, if I had daydreamed about my hands on his body before, this took it up to a level three thousand.

This was crossing a line. Shirtless was one thing, but to watch him completely naked and not look away, I had to be crossing a line.

Look away.

Anytime now, look away.

I couldn’t. How was a man so graceful when getting dressed? He stepped out of view for a moment, returning with boxer briefs and unbuttoned jeans. A small sigh escaped my lips. His back still facing me, I memorized the planes of his muscles as he pulled the long-sleeved shirt over his head. My tongue came out to wet my lips, and my breath was heavy.

His hands on the front of his jeans, he glanced over his shoulder and stopped. His eyes locked on mine, and I knew I should look away, appear casual. Be anything but a creeper, but instead, I froze.

While I had little experience with being caught watching a man dress, his calmness surprised me.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, a brow quirked. Slow as a panther stalking its prey, he walked down the stairs, his gaze never leaving my face.

“I…um.” Now would have been a great time to be sexy or flirtatious or something. But instead, I glanced over at the dog and blurted, “She seemed thirsty, so I was going to fill her water bowl. That’s why I’m standing here.”

Maizie blinked up at me with an expression of, don’t bring me into your little peeping kink.

Adrian stepped down on the landing, his eyes darting to the dog, who was now lying on her back, her feet up in the air and making low snuffling noises. “Is that so?”

“Uh.” I hesitated. “Yes?”

He sauntered closer until his body was practically against mine. Warmth radiated from him. I leaned back against the counter, my hands gripping the edge for stability. Leaning down, his face inches from mine, a small smile tugging at his full lips. “You’re a terrible liar.”

This was dangerous. My body betrayed me as I let out another sigh. His skin smelled of cedar and faint smoke. A natural scent of cutting his own wood and making his own fire. Nothing like the expensive cologne I was used to.

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