Page 19 of Snow Storm

Harley groaned into his face rest. He always babbled on about his work, and people always felt obligated to ask, even when they very clearly didn’t want to know. “Never mind. Please ignore me.”

“No,” Daniel told him softly. “I’m curious now. Why would your publisher ask you to put something on a shelf that you finished?”

Harley shifted, then propped himself up on his arms, though he wasn’t brave enough to look back at Daniel. But he couldn’t keep talking to the floor. “I’m an author. Like, that’s my job. My day job,” he clarified. God, he was still babbling. “I have this semi-successful series.”

“What makes it semi-successful?”

“It pays the bills,” Harley said with a shrug. He groaned again when Daniel went to work on the balls of his feet. Had anyone touched him there before? Probably not. He should have been doing this for years. “Anyway, so I wanted to branch out. I was burning out really hard on what I was doing, and it was taking me longer and longer to finish each book. I was part of an online writers group at the time, and a few of them were lamenting that people who are in sex work get treated kind of shitty in romance fiction.”

“Mm.” Daniel’s hum was a delicious low rumble as he moved up to the backs of Harley’s thighs. “I think they’re right.”

“Yeah. So, I came up with this idea and wrote it. It was a short novel—no real plot, just romance. My publisher rejected it without even reading the first couple of chapters.”

“How is that possible if you’re one of their authors?”

At that, Harley did glance behind him, and his breath caught in his chest at just how gorgeous the man was. He looked away quickly. “It’s like being in contract work. I get renewed when I have something that makes them money, and I wasn’t making enough for them to take any big risks. If my big screwup this week is bad enough, they could drop me mid-series.”

“That sounds needlessly stressful.”

Harley flopped back down and sighed. “You have no idea.”

“I think I do. The tension in your back is telling me a novel right now.” Daniel moved back up to his shoulders and began to knead them gentler than before. “Do you want to turn over and let me work on your front?”

Harley wasn’t hard or anything, but he was terrified he might get that way if he had to look at Daniel’s face. “Uh. Actually, I think I’m good.”

“You haven’t used up your whole hour, and I was late,” Daniel pointed out.

“Well, I’m here for the holidays. If you’re not heading to see your family?—”

“Ah, no. No family. I stay here on the property.”

Harley felt a warm rush through him. Fuck, he really was his poor, besotted character who fell in love with the stripper. Only he didn’t think there was a happily ever after for him. “Can I book with you again?”

Daniel hesitated, and for a moment, Harley thought he’d made it weird again. Then he cleared his throat. “Of course, Mr. James. Ah, what about tomorrow? This same time? I’ll put it in the books for you.”

“Please call me Harley. And yes, this time is perfect,” Harley breathed out. He was feeling sleepy all of a sudden, his limbs heavy.

“Good. I’ll leave you to get dressed. You remember the way out?”

“Yeah…” He was drifting.

“Take as long as you need,” Daniel said very, very quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harley hummed. Did the room get darker, or were his eyes closing? In that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was cried out, exhausted, and ready for some peace.

Chapter 6

Claude

Claude didn’t smile muchthese days, but that day was even worse, considering how badly he’d fucked up. But the moment his eyes landed on his cousin, his entire mood brightened. Dorsey was a force of nature. He was his mother’s half sister’s eldest son, but it was rarely worth explaining all that to people. His aunt had been estranged from the family, so Dorsey was more friend than he was a relative, which Claude preferred. His family was obnoxious and meddling at the best of times, and they hadn’t been very kind about his divorce when he and Anabelle split.

Dorsey was the first person to show up after the papers had been signed, and he took Claude out for drinks, then announced he was staying. He was a silent partner in the resort and was usually off on some adventure or another. The most recent was teaching English in Valencia, but he’d sent Claude an email saying he would be stopping by to grab a few things before flying out to Ireland to stay with his mum during the holidays.

With the impending storms threatening to snow them all in, Claude was surprised his cousin had shown, but here he was. And for a moment, he could breathe again.

Claude envied his cousin for the easy way he got around. He was active and fit, his limbs moving like he was in a perpetual dance. He didn’t hate him for it. He was just a little envious because that had been his life once.

“Why do you look like someone ate your cat?”

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