Page 33 of Kindling
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It felt strange for Fraser to knock on his own door – not just one he owned, but one he’d made and fitted himself. Harper had made him a guest in his own cabin, but he couldn’t find it in him to mind. Not after the other night.
He flexed his fingers, trying to calm the jitters. This was supposed to be casual, yet he felt anything but when he was around her. Still, he wouldn’t ruin their newfound fun with whatever was happening inside him. It had been too long since he’d been touched the way she touched him, kissed the way she kissed him, and he needed more. He’d been starved. He hadn’t realised just how hollow and hungry he’d felt before her. Now, no amount of her would feel like enough.
When nobody answered, he looked down at Bernard as though the dog might know where Harper was. “What d’you think she’s up to today, bud?”
Bernard wagged his tail, just happy to be privy to thoughts that probably wouldn’t have been voiced aloud by any sane owner.
His breath caught in his throat. What if she’d left? Or perhaps she was avoiding him. They’d both been fine, normal,casual,since their heated collision in the truck two nights ago, but… Harper had just got out of a serious relationship, one that had clearly left her hurt. Maybe this had all got too overwhelming for her. It had happened so quickly, and neither of them had stopped to talk about it yet.
“Harper?” he called, knocking louder this time.
Maybe she’s gone for breakfast before our walk, a more rational part of him reasoned.Or into town. Didn’t she say—
“Ow! Bloody hell.” Harper’s grunts drifted from somewhere behind the cabin and were followed by a bizarre, heavy shuffling.
“I dread to think what she’s doing,” he muttered, and then followed the sounds around the cabin and shed, to the back garden-in-progress, where he had first met Harper.
Whatever possibilities his brain conjured were nothing compared to the scene in front of him. Harper was sprawled on a Barbie-pink yoga mat in neon purple leggings, jumper tied in a knot just beneath the curve of her breasts. If she was aiming for a pose, it would have been called something along the lines of “three-legged frog”, because her rear end jutted into the air while the rest of her squatting limbs flailed at interesting angles. One of her legs was tucked under her hips, her torso collapsing in on itself as she gasped for breath.
“I don’t bend that way, Melanie!” she screamed at the ant-sized yoga instructor on her phone, propped against one of Fraser’s taller, sturdier saplings.
Fraser stayed back, amusement and desire rolling through him in equal measure. She was ridiculous. He loved it. Of course,the bright nylon hugging her curves, accentuating all of her softer parts, helped. Heat uncoiled within him as she shifted, revealing the exposed, glorious, pale skin of her middle.
“Tuck your left foot further under your hips to really get that stretch in,” Melanie the instructor was saying in a syrupy Californian accent. “Breathe through it, relax into it. Just like that.”
“I hate you,” Harper muttered, then let out several deep breaths all the same.
“Good job. Now, slowly push up on your arms and let your breaths guide you back into downward dog.”
Oh, this, Fraser looked forward to seeing. Harper didn’t mirror the movements quite as elegantly as the instructor, kicking her leg back with a loud, “Fuck me!”, but the result was the same. A perfect view of her perfectly round bum.
Through her parted legs, Harper finally noticed him and her upside-down eyes widened. “Ah!” she shrieked, collapsing into a heap on the mat.
“Good morning to you, too,” he drawled, releasing Bernard from his lead. He bounded over to her limp body, covering her in sloppy kisses as she squirmed beneath him.
Fraser’s chest and cheeks ached with laughter as he watched their battle. “I think it’s fair to say that we’re bothveryimpressed with your moves.”
“Bernard. Remove your tongue from my ear canal, please.” Harper’s voice was muffled through her hands. She sat up slowly as Bernard continued to sniff, tail wagging so quickly that it was a blur of brown and white.
Fraser was kind enough to finally guide him away with a click of his fingers and a stern utterance of his name. Bernard wandered off, cocking his leg on one of the saplings to do his business.
Slowly, Harper removed her hands. Her face was flushed, eyes narrowed. “You were spying on me.”
He shrugged. “I’m only human. I must say, your downward dog had me all flustered. The frog thing before that, not so much.”
“It was supposed to be lizard pose.” She reached for her phone and turned off the video. “Melanie seems to think that we all have superhuman flexibility.”
“Well, you’re certainly one of a kind.” He offered out his hands, helping her rise to her feet as he met her gaze. “Will you be capable of walking after that?”
“Remains undecided,” she muttered, shaking out her legs with a huff. “I didn’t think you’d be here this early.”
He checked the scuffed watch on his wrist. “It’s almost twelve in the afternoon.”
“It’s a Saturday. That basically makes it seven in the morning.”
“Well, we’re on the cusp of winter in Scotland, so you have about four hours of daylight left. Figured you wouldn’t want to waste them.” He couldn’t help but brush an errant curl from her eyes, tucking it behind the pink-tinged arch of her ear. Her skin was cool to the touch, but when she shivered he was sure it wasn’t because of the weather. “We don’t have to go today if you’d rather spend some more time with Melanie.”
