Page 20 of A Winter Awakening
“Thank you.”
Reluctantly he handed it back to Orteo, who tucked it back into his bag.
Gael hesitated. “I could paint your figures if you like. Well, I could if I had paint.”
“Really?” Orteo asked. He smiled. “I’ll keep a look out for paint, then.”
Orteo packed up the food, leaving some near Gael in case he got hungry later. Gael could move around the cabin easily enough with the crutch. Or if he hopped. But he appreciated Orteo’s forethought.
“I meant to ask. Is there anything else you need help with?” Orteo asked. “Something I haven’t thought of?”
Gael gave a nervous laugh. “Actually, yes.”
Orteo came over to him. “What?”
“Well, I borrowed clothes from Edwin. And they’re clean.” Gael laughed. “But I’m not.”
He could have washed on his own. All he’d have to do was heat some water by the fire and use a cloth to wipe himself. But Gael kept worrying he’d somehow manage to mess it up.
What if he tipped over the water and it put out the fire? What if he tripped and injured his ankle further? Or what if he fell into the fire?
Gael hadn’t told anyone, but although others still brought him stews, he’d never attempted to reheat them. He just ate them cold. The most he did near the fire was carefully put a log on it without smothering it. And he worried every time he did that.
He didn’t like to do anything even slightly difficult if Orteo wasn’t there to ensure everything would be all right.
“So I was hoping you might be able to help me wash,” Gael said.
Gael expected an immediate answer. After all, Orteo always jumped to help him.
But Orteo didn’t respond straightaway. He seemed to freeze in place. And Gael couldn’t read his expression.
“Only if it isn’t a problem,” Gael rushed out. Although, he wasn’t sure why Orteo would protest about helping him wash after everything else he’d done. Why would this be different?
“No. That’s not a problem,” Orteo said, voice surprisingly deep and husky. “I can help you wash.”
ChapterTwelve
Firelight cast Gael’s chest in a warm golden light, accentuating his lithe torso and peaked nipples.
Orteo wanted to touch him. He wanted to slide his hand along his flat stomach and around Gael’s waist. He’d lay the man down before the fire and rain kisses on his body.
For years it had felt like his body and all its desire had gone to sleep.
But it had awakened now with a fury.
Gael stood on his uninjured leg, leaning with one hand on the wall. “I can’t wait to wash.” He scrunched his button nose. “I’m filthy.” A trail of dark hair started just below Gael’s belly button, leading down beneath his trousers.
Orteo stared at the metal bucket of water heating by the fire.
What did this mean?
Gael had stared constantly at Orteo and looked at him with so much adoration and what looked like want and desire. Although, perhaps Orteo just wished for that.
Because although Gael had asked Orteo if he had a partner and then asked Orteo to wash him like he was trying to seduce him, he now chatted away with no hint of flirtation or seduction.
He acted as if they were doing nothing out of the ordinary. It definitely didn’t seem like Gael wanted sex.
But could Gael truly be so naive? So unaware of his effect on Orteo?
