Home > Out In The Cold(3)

Out In The Cold(3)
Author: Kiki Clark

Wet laughter was the only response he got for a long moment, and then he raised his head to peer up at Coop, and the cold air froze in Coop’s lungs. Fucking hell. The guy was gorgeous. Even red-rimmed and sad, the man’s chocolate-brown eyes were piercing. His pale white skin was a little rosy from the subzero temperatures but looked so smooth Coop had to stop himself from reaching out and running a finger across his cheekbone.

“Worst. Day. Ever,” the guy croaked out, then reached up and gripped Coop’s arm—why was he still touching his shoulder?—and used his hold to pull himself upright. He was a little thing, Coop could tell, but he straightened his shoulders like that would make a difference under his puffy coat and said, “Do you think I could stay here until the storm lets up? Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Um.” What could he even say to that? Who just asked something like that of a stranger? What if he were an ax murderer? This sweet, trusting man could be dead long before the snow stopped falling.

The longer he hesitated, the less sure the man looked until finally his shoulders crumpled and his head dropped to his chest. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can just wait in my car. I have like half a tank of gas left, so I should be fine. Even if I run out, I’ve got a bunch of extra clothes I could put on, so I’m sure it’s fine. I’m fine.”

The guy was the opposite of fine.

And he’d freeze to death if left on his own out in the cold.

Shaking his head, Coop pushed himself to his feet and dragged the guy up with him. He eyed his soaked pant legs and grunted. “Get your things.”

Face brightening, the guy scrambled back over to his car, opened the back door, and pulled out a suitcase. “Thank you so much. I promise you won’t even know I’m here,” he rambled as he slammed the door shut and hurried after Coop, who was already climbing the porch steps. “I can just sit by the door and read on my phone. I’ll be the least obtrusive guest you’ve ever had. I’m sure the snow will stop soon, and then I can just—puppy!”

Trucker was beside himself as they stepped inside the cabin, the guy immediately dropping to his knees again and wrapping his arms around Trucker’s wiggling body. Sighing, Coop stepped around them and divested himself of his outerwear, stepping back into his slippers and heading into the tiny kitchen.

“You need to change out of your wet clothes,” he said, trying not to grumble at the guy but failing. As cute as he was, the man was invading Coop’s private space because he wasn’t smart enough not to be out driving in a blizzard.

He pulled the milk out of the fridge and a saucepan from a cupboard. When the guy laughed behind him, he sighed and turned around to tell him to go and change again.

Somehow the guy had ended up on his back, still in his puffy coat, with Trucker lying on top of him, licking at his face. Considering Trucker was eighty-five pounds, Coop knew for a fact it wasn’t comfortable to have him crawling around on top of you, but the guy looked like he was in heaven, whispering to him what a good boy he was and how sweet and gorgeous.

Coop stared at them for a long moment, trying to figure out the feeling spinning in his gut. Was he… jealous of his own dog?

“What’s your name?” he bit out, sounding angry for some reason even though he wasn’t.

The guy flinched and sat up, gently pushing Trucker down so he was draped over his legs like the German shepherd mix was a damn lap dog. “Um, Beau?”

Raising a brow, Coop crossed his arms. “You sure about that?”

With an adorable scowl, the guy pushed his errant hair away from his face and lifted his chin. “Yes. Beau Singer.”

Biting back a smile, Coop nodded. “Cooper Frances.” He dipped his head toward his ridiculous dog. “That’s Trucker.”

Beau’s frown disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Leaning over Trucker, he wrapped his arms around him again and peppered kisses on his head. “Aww, what a cute name for such a sweet boy.”

He watched Beau lavish affection on Trucker for another minute or so and then rolled his eyes. “Beau. Go change your clothes.”

With a ridiculously heavy sigh, Beau gave Trucker’s head one more kiss, and then he tried to gently coax the dog off his lap. Which, of course, Trucker was having none of now that he’d found someone who’d worship him like he thought he deserved.

Coop snapped his fingers, and Trucker jumped up, coming right over to his side and sitting. Beau rose slower, eyeing Trucker like he’d never seen a dog before. Once he was on his feet, he finally unzipped his coat and toed off his boots.

Satisfied, Coop went back to what he was doing. “You allergic to dairy?”

There was a thump behind him, but no verbal response.

Sighing again, he turned around again and nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight of Beau bent over at the waist, digging through his suitcase. While his khakis were a little baggy when he was standing, the position gave Coop a clear view of what a nice round ass he had with hips sturdy enough to take a real—

He stopped that train of thought before it could go further, reaching down to rearrange his semi-hard dick.

He could hear faint muttering that got louder as Beau started pulling out items and stacking them on the floor next to the case.

“Son of a biscuit,” Beau finally said, throwing down what looked like… a dress shirt?

“Problem?”

Turning slowly, Beau bit his lip and stared at the ground between them. “Um, no?”

Rubbing at the headache forming in his temples, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Listen. We don’t know each other, but lying is a thing for me, okay? Just tell me what the problem is so I can fix it.”

Beau chewed on his lower lip for a couple seconds, eyes getting a little glassy. “I… I didn’t pay attention to what I was packing, and I didn’t grab any pants.”

“You didn’t… grab any pants.” Coop repeated the words, but they still didn’t make sense to him.

Beau shook his head forcefully, blond waves flying around his head with the hard motion. Coop waited to see if he’d say anything more, like maybe explain how he could have left his house with a suitcase full of shirts, but the color in his cheeks said he was too embarrassed.

Shrugging, Coop strode toward the back of the cabin where the door to the bedroom was. The whole place was only two rooms, really. The front of the cabin made up the kitchen and living room, and the back was the bedroom and bathroom. It wasn’t a lot, but it was plenty for just him and Trucker.

In his bedroom, he went over to the dresser and pulled open the drawer he kept his sweats and long johns in. He didn’t understand how a person could pack a suitcase and not include any pants, but he was getting the feeling Beau maybe didn’t work like other people.

And he did not find that charming.

Honestly.

Turning back toward the door, he stumbled to a stop when he realized Beau was standing just inside his bedroom, looking more unsure of himself than he had even when kneeling in the snow outside asking to take shelter in Coop’s cabin. Trucker was leaning against his leg, looking up at Beau adoringly, but Coop found he didn’t mind as much now that he knew what a mess Beau was.

“Here you go,” he said, voice soft but still gruff. He held out the sweats. They were the only ones he had with him with an actual drawstring. Hopefully, Beau would be able to tighten them enough to stay up since he was a lot shorter than Coop’s tall frame.

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