Chapter 2
“Have you seen a little dog?”
Cerulean blue eyes met his, and Tom read both fear and desperation there. His stomach clenched as he took in the guy’s features: a fashionable stubble, long dark eyelashes, and a refined nose. His skin held a warm tone matching his honey-coloured hair. Tom quickly looked away. He didn’t ogle guys, not this close to home.
“Nope, haven’t seen anyone all day.”
“Oh…Do you know how I can get back to the road?”
Tom put the chainsaw down and held out his hand to help the man up.
He slowly climbed to his feet. There were dark patches on the knees of his thin jeans from where he’d landed in the snow. Tom winced when a cold finger brushed against the inside of his wrist.
“Which road do you want to get back to?” They were almost as far from the main road as they were from the road leading into town, not to mention all the tiny little roads that snaked their way through the forest.
“Erm…the one leading into town?”
Tom peered at the sky; the sun would be setting soon. With a sigh, he started packing his things. The trees would have to wait. “My car is on the other side.” He pointed to the pine trees behind him and put the scabbard on the chainsaw blade.
“There’s a road?” The guy stared at the trees as if he would be able to see it now when he knew it was there.
“Yes, a small one.”
“Oh…Biscuit!”
Tom jumped as the guy’s voice echoed over the silent land. “Who are you calling?”
“My dog. He ran away.”
He?“I’m sure he’ll turn up soon.” Dogs usually found their way home, and most of the snow had melted, so he’d probably be fine. Unless he went through the ice, of course, but he wouldn’t mention that to the guy.
“You think?” He straightened his back and looked Tom straight in the eyes, making Tom’s mouth go dry. He swallowed to lubricate it so he could speak.
“Absolutely. He’s probably already back at…wherever you’re staying. Come on, I’ll drive you to where you need to go.”
Tom led the way back to his van. Mud and slush had splashed all over the sides, and Tom had to clear all his papers and shit from the passenger seat for the man to sit. Then he hopped in and started the car. “I have to make a phone call, sorry.” Tom hated when people talked on the phone in the car, but he needed to tell Tris he was going home or Tris would come looking for him.
The signal went through. “Yeah?”
Tom cringed at the tone. “Is it a bad time?”
“Nah, it’s fine…it’s just…never mind. How’s it going?”
“I’m packing up. Had a visitor, so I’m heading home a little early.”
“You didn’t happen to see a dog, did you?”
Tom squinted at the bloke sitting next to him. “No, but I have a man here looking for one.”
“Oh, the idiot’s with you?” There was a sigh of relief on the other end.
Tom pursed his lips and looked at the guy again. “Maybe…lost, and looking for a dog named Biscuit?”
“That’s the one. If it wasn’t for Aiden, I’d say leave him, but could you please drive the moron to town?”
“To town?”
“Yeah, we’re at Jen’s.”
Tom smiled. This could be interesting, and he wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee. “Will do.”
They hung up, and Tom turned to the ‘moron.’ “We’re heading to Jen’s. Tris and Aiden are there.”
The guy’s blue eyes widened a fraction, but then he nodded and quickly turned away, watching out the passenger side window. At least he had the decency to be embarrassed. 2: Lumberjacks and Macchiatos
“Oh, thank God, you found him, Tom.” Aiden came dashing towards them as soon as they’d crossed the threshold, his hands waving and his curls bouncing with each step. It was a shame Aiden was with his hick of a boyfriend; Jason should’ve fucked him while he was available. He was such a cute little thing, just the way Jason liked his guys.
They’d never talked much while Aiden lived in Whiteport despite working together, but after Aiden had left, they’d started texting each other, talking more than ever before.
Jason’s rescuer—Tom, he assumed—shrugged before nodding an acknowledgement to everyone inside. While they greeted each other, Jason took in his surroundings. The black-and-white-chequered floor, the turquoise benchtop, and the white walls in dire need of a paint job, made him grimace. A red-haired little boy was sitting behind the counter, doing homework by the looks of it, and four men were sitting on white plastic chairs around one table. They were all dressed the same way as Tom, suggesting they, too, worked in the forest.