Page 100 of Too Close To Home

Jake tilted his neck. “Guess you know summat about that too, aye?”

Harrison’s gaze dropped to the path. “Yeah. Somewhat.”

That should’ve been the end of it. Especially as Harrison started walking again.

But Jake heard himself say, “I’m really fucking sorry about the blanket.”

Harrison stopped. Looked back at him. “Sorry?”

“Blanket. When you fell asleep the other morning.” Jake took a few steps to get back beside him. Christ, why had he started this? “I put it over you.”

“I know.”

“Aye, obviously you know. You must’ve woken up under the fucking thing wondering what the hell I were doing.” Jake gave an awkward puff of laughter. “I dunno why I did it. You were there, completely out of it, and you looked knackered. Didn’t fancy our freezing northern Arctic finishing you off. You southern softies ain’t built for it.”

Harrison said nothing.

Jake’s smile faltered. “Sorry. Southern softie were probably unnecessary.”

Still nothing.

But Christ, the way Harrison was looking at him.

Not like a detective. Jake knew that look already. The quiet assessment, picking apart whatever Jake said and filing away the useful bits. This wasn’t that.

This was something Jake didn’t know how to read at all.

His stomach gave a nervous little pull. “What?”

Harrison blinked, as though Jake had dragged him back from somewhere. “Nothing.”

“Right.”

Harrison turned and started walking again, but his second step landed badly again. “Shit—”

Jake caught him. Proper that time. He closed one hand around Harrison’s arm, the other landing at his waist as Harrison grabbed Jake’s jacket to steady himself. Jake could feel Harrison breathing. Could feel him twist his fist into the front of his coat.

Jake swallowed. “Y’alright?”

“Yeah…” Harrison didn’t let go though.

Neither did Jake, and he dropped his gaze to Harrison’s mouth.

Harrison saw it.

Fuck.

Jake let go of him and stepped back, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Sorry. Fuck. I shouldn’t—”

Then Harrison’s hand closed around the back of his neck, and Jake barely had time to register the cold fingers tangling into his hair before Harrison pulled him forward and kissed him.

Jake snapped his eyes open.

Christ.

Yeah. Harrison was kissing him.

And it wasn’t what Jake expected. There was no rush to it. No drunken collision of mouths, no immediate grab for more. Harrison kissed him softly. Warmly. Almost carefully, as though he’d made the decision to do it but still wasn’t entirely sure what happened next.