Page 9 of Melting His Grumpy Heart
No carbs, no sugar. Not his choice, not his rules, but it had been easier than the arguments he’d had no chance of winning. Ru stuffed the last of the sandwich in his mouth and chewed with vigour, savouring the tangy bread and the last of the peppery sausage.
“Thank you. That was really good.”
Jake didn’t answer. Instead he pushed himself up from the table, collecting the empty mugs. “More coffee?” It sounded like an order rather than a question.
“Please.”
Ru watched Jake as he made fresh drinks. Jake wasn’t, he decided, a mad axe murderer, but he was a grumpy sod. Theman had every right to be, he’d been saddled with a clueless stranger he’d been forced into giving board and lodging to?—
“I can pay for my keep,” Ru blurted out.
Jake turned and faced him, holding the cafetière; a frown wrinkled his brow. “That won’t be necessary. You found yourself in trouble and I was able to help. I don’t expect payment. I’ve got enough food to easily see me through the next six months, and I can’t see you making much of a dent in it.”
“But…”
Jake turned back to pouring their drinks. Ru bit down on his lip again. God alone knew what kind of mess he’d be in without Jake, but he refused to be any more of a burden than he already was. Jake put the coffee down in front of Ru before he took his place back at the table.
“If you won’t let me pay for my stay, there’s something else I can do for you.”
Jake went still. Nothing moved. A shutter came down over his face. His eyes, boring into Ru, turned cold.
Oh god, oh no… He thinks I’m…
Ru swallowed hard, finding only a thin squeak when he tried to speak, tried to explain. He sucked in a deep breath and forced the words out.
“That… came out wrong. What I mean is, I can help you. I could do the cooking or something. I—I feel like I should earn my keep. I wasn’t… erm… propositioning you.” Ru felt the burn of embarrassment sear his face.Please don’t throw me out…
Ru plonked his elbows on the table and let his head full forward into his hands, and groaned. If Jake really was some homophobic axe murderer, now would be the time for him to reveal his hand.
“Propositioning me, eh? Well, I suppose I’ve had worse offers.”
“Eh?” Ru peeked up through his fingers. Jake’s face was deadpan, but the hard stoniness in his eyes had softened. And was that a faint shadow of a smile? Ru let his hands fall away. No sign of an axe, either. “I’m really sorry?—”
“Don’t be. Like you say, it came out wrong. If it makes you feel better, you can cook some of the meals if you want, but I don’t expect it.” Jake got up suddenly. “I’ve got to check the generator. Storm’s getting worse and I want to be prepared for any eventuality.”
“Er, yes. Okay.” Ru watched as Jake stomped towards the door leading to the utility room, Monty bounding after him. Before stepping outside, and without turning, Jake paused.
“You need to understand that you’re here because I’ve offered you help. I’m not expecting payment, in any shape or form. It’s up to you how you spend your time here, within reason. You’ve got free run of the house with the following exceptions: my office, which is upstairs, second on the left, and my bedroom, which is next door. They’re out of bounds. If you cross those very clear lines, you’ll be sleeping in the barn I found you in for the duration and you’ll be barred from the house.”
Jake was gone before Ru could respond. He sat, rigid in his chair, in the sudden quiet of the kitchen, not sure what was louder, the fast hammer of his heart or the wind hammering the walls of the house. Ru sagged, as if taut wires that had been holding him up had snapped.
“God. How could I have been so stupid?”
Ru rubbed his temples. He hadn’t been propositioning Jake. Absolutely not. After the shit storm his life had been for the last few months,entanglements, also known as liaisons, affairs, and quick and dirty bunk ups no matter how short and fleeting, were one hundred percent, absolutely, totally the last thing he wanted.
Even if a certain grump who just happened to have the greenest eyes Ru had ever seen and a set of rather impressive muscles, had said he’d had worse offers.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jake trudged through the snow, his breath clouding in the frigid air as he made his way to the generator shed. Monty bounded ahead, unbothered by the cold, disappearing into drifts only to reappear moments later in an explosion of white powder.
“At least one of us is enjoying this,” Jake muttered, squinting against the driving snow.
The wind cut through his layers, but it wasn’t the cold making his movements stiff and awkward. It was the conversation he’d just fled. The misunderstanding. The flash of mortification on Ru’s face when he’d realised how his offer had sounded.
I can do something else for you.
Christ.
