Page 22 of A Winter Romance
“Your parents are very nice,” Aryn said.
“They didn’t overwhelm you?” He laughed. “They can be a lot,” he said, affection clear in his voice.
“No. They were fine.” Although, he was still reeling from the experience. “I mean, they were a little overwhelming but not in a bad way. They were nice.” They’d welcomed him into their home. They’d laughed and smiled and seemed to like having him there. And they’d hugged him. “And people eat there? At the shop?”
“People often stop by, and my parents will serve some bread, cheese, fish, or whatever they feel like serving. Sometimes they’ll make a stew. They pay a little for it. We don’t have any restaurants or bars in Ores.”
“You’re very close with your family.”
“Is it not the same with you?”
“I have six siblings. I don’t think I’ve hugged any of them, well not as an adult anyway. I can’t remember the last time I hugged either of my parents.”
Sero frowned, eyes filled with something that looked like pity.
“It’s fine.” Aryn shrugged, forcing a laugh. “We’re just a different type of family.”
Sero opened the front door of his cabin, next door to his parents.
“You don’t lock it?” Aryn asked. “Even when you’re gone for days?”
“Why would I lock it?”
“So no one steals from you.”
He looked perplexed. “Why would anyone steal from me?”
Aryn followed him inside. Ores was definitely not Bordertown.
ChapterSixteen
Sero had been awake for hours. He’d heated the oven, kneaded dough, baked bread, taken the fresh bread to his parents’ store, and cleaned up. He’d also made a quick trip into the forest for some Solstice berries.
Yet when he opened the door to his bedroom, Aryn was still fast asleep, curled up on his side in Sero’s bed. The sight made Sero’s insides turn to melted butter.
To be fair, Sero woke very early to bake bread. Bakers’ hours. It wasn’t even light outside. Carefully, he closed the door behind him. He didn’t want to disturb Aryn. In his left hand, Sero carried a sprig of freshly picked Solstice berries, a red ribbon tied around the stem.
A Solstice gift. It had been a while since he’d had a lover to give a Solstice gift to. In fact, he’d never had a lover for Solstice. And this would be Aryn’s first Solstice gift as well.
There were many types of Solstice gifts. Plants, herbs, dried fruit, and flowers were common gifts, each with their own meaning. Solstice berries were given as a token of affection to a lover.
Food could also be given. Sweets and cookies were particularly popular amongst younglings. A gift of a loaf of bread meant love and devotion, a desire to care for and nourish the other. Garlands of flowers and greenery were often given to friends and lovers. Sero smiled. Perhaps he’d make a garland for Aryn to wear.
He placed the Solstice gift on his nightstand, undressed, and lifted the sheets, sliding in beside Aryn. Aryn mumbled something and rolled towards Sero, wiggling closer, all nakedness and warm skin.
Sero pulled Aryn into his arms. He fit so perfectly against him. It made something stir inside him, a longing for more mornings just like this. But he pushed that desire aside. This was temporary. It would only be until Winter Solstice. Then Aryn would return to the city where he belonged, with his famous perfumes, servants, and fine, impractical clothes.
It didn’t matter if Aryn had gotten along with his family the day before. It didn’t mean he belonged here. Sero closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the moment, trying not to dwell on the fact that it wouldn’t last.
The next time he awoke, Aryn sat beside him on the bed, blankets pooled around him as he stared out the window. As if sensing Sero was awake, Aryn spoke. “I’ve never seen so much snow before.”
Sero reached out and stroked Aryn’s lower back. “This year has actually been pretty tame. No snowstorms. Not yet anyway.”
“What about the other night when you rescued me?”
Sero tried to keep his face straight. “That wasn’t a snowstorm. Just a bit of snow.”
“Oh,” Aryn said, voice soft. “I guess… I guess it was really silly, almost dying in just a bit of snow.”
