The Captain's Snowbound Christmas Read online

“Do you know the Three Storeys?” Bunny asked. “We can get some food too if you like. It’s really relaxed. Good cocktails.”

  “I do!” Reuben liked the sound of that. What a swish place to go for their first date. Although he shouldn’t really have been surprised. “Excellent. When should I meet you there? Six, seven?”

  “Seven?” Bunny quirked his eyebrow. “Hopefully I’ll have got all the oil off by then.”

  Reuben leaned in so that he was almost close enough to brush his lips against Bunny’s. “Well…if you haven’t, I’m more than willing to help.”

  Bunny’s gaze shone. “I might have to hold you to that, you know.” Then he closed the gap between them and kissed Reuben on the cheek. It was an actorly gesture, no more than the kiss he had bestowed on Linda’s cheek, but it made Reuben’s heart skip. “I’ll see you at seven.”

  “Bye!” Reuben picked up his toolbox and nearly bounced out of the room. “See you soon!”

  Chapter Three

  Just before seven, Reuben arrived at the Three Storeys. He’d been before, for production parties, and had even gone to a bruise masterclass hosted there in one of its rooms on a Sunday afternoon. And now he was here for a date.

  The hottest date he’d ever had.

  He wandered into the bar on the ground floor, glancing around and above other people. He pulled off his bobble hat and unwound his long, knitted scarf. Then he saw Bunny, leaning with one elbow on the polished top of the bar as he sipped what looked like a measure of Scotch. He could’ve been in a film.

  “Hey, Bunny!” Reuben waved. He was still wearing his mittens and felt rather silly.

  “Reuben!” He made his way through the bar to greet Reuben with another one of those kisses to his cheek. Then he put his hand on Reuben’s arm and let it linger there. “Lovely to see you.”

  “And you!”

  Bunny looked so hot. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the chest that Reuben had squirted baby oil on earlier that day, and that smile of his made Reuben’s heart flutter.

  And I’m on a bloody date with him!

  Reuben tugged off his mittens and shoved them into the pockets of his peacoat. He was about to suggest getting a bottle to share when they were jostled by a group coming into the bar, and somewhere among the new arrivals a man shouted, “Draw your sword, sir!”

  He cackled with laughter, as if he were the first person to have ever yelled the catchphrase in public.

  Bunny laughed politely and acknowledged the man with a nod. He asked Reuben quietly, “Shall we get some bubbles and find a corner to hide in? Or do you want to eat straightaway?”

  “Bubbles and a corner sound good.” Reuben laid his palm on Bunny’s back and stroked it in a circle. In reply, Bunny slipped his arm round Reuben’s waist and steered him towards the bar. Two young women were waiting there, and as they approached, they exchanged excited nudges.

  And he knew what was coming.

  “Draw your sword, Captain!” one of the women shrieked at them. “Can I have a birthday selfie with you? Will you say it? Say draw your sword!”

  “Go on! And will you hold my umbrella like a sword?” her friend asked.

  How many times? Twice in one minute?

  But Reuben tried not to roll his eyes. It didn’t do for a celebrity to have someone on his arm who looked at his fans with scorn. Even if they were annoying.

  I’m managing to avoid saying it. Why can’t anyone else?

  The woman didn’t wait for a reply, but instead bolted in front of them in a heady cloud of perfume and snapped a photo. Bunny smiled for the camera, exchanged enough words to keep her happy—none of which were draw your sword—then ordered their champagne.

  “Let’s get a booth,” he whispered. “They’ll bring it over.”

  Reuben kept his hand on Bunny’s back as they headed through the bar. He liked the firmness of his back under his hand, and the intimacy of touching him there. Reuben found a booth that was just being cleared of its last occupants’ glasses, hidden behind the corner right at the back of the bar.

  “How about here?” Reuben suggested. “About as secluded as it comes here, by the look of it.”

  Together they slipped into the booth, alone even in the crowded bar. Alone in a booth with Christopher Manners. What a Christmas gift that was.

  “Sorry about the sword thing.” Bunny smiled. “It’s always worse when there’s a new Firth due out. They really ramp up the ads. You’ll probably hear all about my sword a hundred times or more this evening.”

  Reuben transferred his hand from Bunny’s back to his knee. “It must get so annoying. But don’t worry, I don’t go about shouting actors’ catchphrases in their faces. You won’t be hearing that line coming from me!”

  ‘Draw your sword, sir! Draw it! Draw your bloody sword!’

  Reuben pursed his lips.

  “And you have no idea how wonderful that is.” Bunny slipped his arm around Reuben’s shoulders. “I did once go on a date with a guy who asked if he could call me captain…we didn’t go on a second date!”

  Damn.

  “What did he make of you being called Bunny?” Reuben gently squeezed Bunny’s knee. They seemed to be on the same page physically, and Reuben liked that. Not afraid to touch, but not plunging straight into a grope, unlike some dates Reuben could mention.

  Bunny was about to answer when the arrival of the waiter silenced him. Instead there were polite Thank yous as the champagne was poured and the bottle was replaced in its silver bucket. Only when he departed did Bunny admit, “I have no idea. It was Firthy he really wanted, so when he got Bunny and a glass of white instead of the captain and a lusty brandy, I think it was all a bit disappointing. God though, can you imagine going through life being as brooding and intense as Captain F is? The man never smiles!”

  “He’d get annoying pretty quickly, wouldn’t he? I’m not surprised Tamsin gave him a slap!” Reuben laughed. “But he’s part of the national fabric now. You’ve created a monster!”

  “Don’t I know it!” Bunny clinked his glass against Reuben’s. “Here’s to a good night and a very happy Christmas!”

  “Cheers!” Reuben sipped his champagne, his gaze on Bunny’s, which sparkled and fizzed more than the drink in his glass. “I have some news, by the way,” Reuben said.

  Bunny stroked his fingertips against Reuben’s shoulder, drawing small circles. “Share it?”

  “You know that politician photoshoot I was supposed to be doing today?” And if it hadn’t been cancelled, Reuben wouldn’t be sitting in a booth with Bunny at that moment. “It’s been rescheduled. Tomorrow. Means an earlier start than I’d like, but…well, it’s a gig, isn’t it?”

  “I await your verdict on his thighs!” Bunny took a sip of champagne then withdrew his arm from Reuben’s shoulders and rested his hand on his thigh instead. “How early is early?”

  “Got to get to this place just round the corner from here for eight. It’s not a big deal, I’ll get the bus.” Reuben sipped his champagne. Eight wasn’t as early as some jobs he’d done, but then, he didn’t usually drink champagne the night before. “And I can promise you, his thighs look very underwhelming. I won’t be spritzing them. At least, I hope not!”

  “I’ll make sure you’re home at a decent hour,” his companion teased. His fingers tightened just a touch on Reuben’s thigh. Not much, but enough.

  “Going to put me to bed early?” Reuben batted his eyelashes. He ran his hand up from Bunny’s knee to his thigh. “Bunny, you sauce!”

  “I’ll happily put you to bed.” Bunny whispered, “In fact, I’d love to.”

  “And you wouldn’t need a carefully positioned sheet or a sock on your—”

  “Draw your sword, sir!”

  Reuben cringed as a man’s drink-reddened face appeared in the booth. Not again!

  “Go on, Captain, draw your sword!” the man said, his guttural laugh making his intrusion all the more crass and annoying.

  “I’m af
raid I left it in Cornwall,” Bunny replied with a good-natured chuckle. But Reuben knew it must be an effort to keep on laughing. He was sure he’d be able to take Bunny’s mind off it though. So long as he didn’t blurt it out himself.

  The man laughed and patted Bunny on the shoulder, then wandered off into the bar, repeating the catchphrase to his friends and swishing his phone about as if it were a sword.

  The pat on the shoulder annoyed Reuben even more. Why did people think that celebrities owed them that, as if they didn’t deserve personal space?

  Reuben caressed Bunny’s thigh. He could feel it had tensed up. “I don’t know how you keep your cool when people barge in like that.”

  Bunny shrugged then took a sip from his glass. “It’s okay. It’s a bit of a pain, but…you have to smile, or the next thing you know they’re calling you a total arse on social media.” He drew his fingertip over Reuben’s thigh. “So tell me about Reuben. What’s the gossip?”

  “The gossip is that this really hot actor’s asked me out on a date!” Reuben chuckled. He went on stroking Bunny’s thigh, and Bunny seemed to be relaxing again. “And I’m thinking, am I the luckiest bloke ever or what?”

  The muscle beneath Reuben’s hand lost its tension when Bunny laughed. The actor’s whole face lit up with it, his eyes twinkling as they studied Reuben closely. He really was here, sitting in one of the most trendy establishments in London with one of the men who’d shown him in his younger years that it was okay to be gay. If Captain Firth could come out on Friday and be swashbuckling as well as he ever was on Sunday evening, then Reuben Sheldrake certainly could.

  They worked their way through the bottle of champagne, despite interruptions from yet more people who thought Bunny needed to hear his own catchphrase yelled at him. Reuben and Bunny were sitting as close to each other as they could in public, an arm round the waist, a hand on the thigh. So close that if Reuben turned his head, his lips would brush Bunny’s cheek. As the bar got busier their little booth became more and more sheltered and secluded, until the lights were low and the December crowd was thick enough to render the presence of Christopher Manners entirely invisible. They were supposed to be getting food, but instead Reuben and Bunny remained in their hidden corner, quietly getting to know each other.

  Reuben felt as if they’d known each other for ages. And the strange thing was that they’d almost crossed each other’s paths innumerable times. Their meeting now felt inevitable, as if Fate had been waiting for just the right moment to nudge them together. There was none of Captain Firth’s brooding intensity in the man who played him, just a funny, sweet man who seemed as keen on Reuben as Reuben was on him. He’d been on plenty of dates in the past, but none that had clicked into gear with such speed and ease as this. They seemed perfectly matched.

  Reuben turned, laughing at one of Bunny’s anecdotes, and his lips brushed Bunny’s face. And the moment seemed right—seemed perfect—for what happened next. Reuben kissed Bunny’s cheek, then, emboldened by the sparkle in Bunny’s eyes, rested his lips at the corner of Bunny’s mouth. The invitation was there if Bunny chose to take it, and he did. With the slightest move of his head, he put his lips to Reuben’s and kissed him.

  It was so delicate to start with, only their lips touching, but as the moments passed, their kiss grew more intense and heated. Reuben dragged his hand through Bunny’s hair, wanting to touch him and be close to him.

  “Do you want to stay here?” Bunny whispered the question against Reuben’s ear. “Or shall we go somewhere more private?”

  Reuben stroked Bunny’s face, committing to memory the curves and softness of his skin.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Together, fingers intertwined, they left the crowded bar and stepped out into the cold London night. But Reuben didn’t feel the chill. It felt like the hottest summer evening to him.

  “You know my early start tomorrow?” Reuben asked. “Is it a pain if we go to mine?”

  Bunny shook his head. “Not a bit.”

  They stood on the kerb, arm in arm, and waited for an Uber to ferry them back to Reuben’s. They tumbled into the back, and Reuben didn’t see much of the journey because he spent most of it alternately gazing at Bunny or kissing him.

  Finally, they arrived in Greenwich, and Reuben led the way to his second floor flat in an old terraced house.

  “Sorry about the stairs!” Reuben said.

  They headed up through the house, holding hands. As they reached his flat he saw Sanjay’s bicycle on the landing, the door to the hallway ajar. His flatmate was headed out, it seemed, which could only be a good thing if he was bringing a guest home for the evening.

  “You’re about to meet my flatmate,” Reuben said. “Sanj! I’m back!”

  “I’m off to see Sal’s new flat, I’ll be back late tomorr—” Sanjay stepped out of the kitchen into the hallway, hauling his backpack over his arm. At the sight of Bunny, his mouth dropped open and he brandished his mobile phone. “Draw your sword, sir! Have at you, you blaggard!”

  Reuben cringed on Bunny’s behalf. “Sanj! Come on…” He glanced at Bunny, apologetic. But even as he did, the catchphrase danced in Reuben’s head like a crazed imp. Draw your sword, sir! Draw your sword! Draw it!

  Bunny gave the obligatory polite laugh, but Sanjay wasn’t finished yet. His backpack now secure, he danced down the hallway towards them as though facing a fencing opponent, saying again, “Draw your sword, Reuben, draw your sword, Captain Firth, or I’ll run you through and splice the main brace!”

  “You should do this for a living,” Bunny told him amiably. “You’re that good.”

  Sanjay laughed and gave a bow. “Point taken.” He grinned. “Have a top night, you two. With your drawn swords.”

  With that he left the flat, closing the door behind him.

  Reuben groaned. Loudly enough that Sanjay could probably hear him on the stairs. “I am so, so, so sorry.”

  “I have to admit, I’m getting a bit bloody sick of it tonight. I want to be with you—I don’t want to think about Captain bloody Firth’s sword.” Bunny slipped his arms round Reuben’s waist as the thought of Captain Firth’s sword loomed large in Reuben’s mind’s eye. And what a sword it would be. “But unless you’re about to tell me to draw my sword as well, I think we’ve heard it for the last time tonight.”

  “Ha-ha, no! Noooo….” Draw your sword! Draw your bloody sword! Go on, draw it! Prithee, sir, I insist, draw that sword at once, poltroon! Popinjay! Draw your sword, sir! Reuben’s mouth tried to shape itself to form the letter D, but he fought back. “D-don’t worry…erm…the lounge is nice, but my bedroom’s nicer?”

  Bunny nodded, then kissed him with a renewed heat. “Why don’t you show me?”

  Reuben led him to one of the doors that opened off the living room, peeling himself out of his coat and hat, his scarf and mittens as he went. His bedroom was tidy, but had to be as the room was small. A huge pegboard hung on one wall showing photos of Reuben’s work, and the other walls were covered with posters of classic artwork, city views and his favourite places in Cornwall. Reuben sat down on the bed, which wasn’t a true double but a one-and-a-half. But he and Bunny would be too close to each for that to present a problem.

  Draw your— No!

  He twined his fingers with Bunny’s, pouting at him. “Come here, you gorgeous bloke!”

  And Bunny sank down onto the bed, taking Reuben in his arms. Alone at last, their kisses were filled with hunger and heat, and Bunny slid his hands over Reuben’s back, caressing and stroking.

  Reuben began to unfasten the buttons on Bunny’s coat. Were they going too fast? But it felt so right that Reuben carried on, and once his coat was open, Reuben trailed the flat of his palm down Bunny’s chest. The same chest he’d seen bare on set, the same chest he’d squirted with baby oil. But now they were shut away together with nothing but a bed for company, Reuben could revel in his lover’s body.

  Bunny shrugged off his coat. He eased Reuben ba
ck onto the bed, trailing his lips over his throat. It was perfect, the heat of Bunny’s body beneath his shirt warming Reuben as their bodies pressed together.

  Reuben tangled his other hand in Bunny’s hair, abandoning himself to the passion in their kiss. He felt Bunny’s erection press against his leg and it excited him all the more. The image came back to him of Bunny in the makeup room, naked save for a towel and the sheen of baby oil on his sculpted body. And they were going to go to bed together.

  He was going to see the sheen of post-coital sweat on Bunny’s body for real.

  Gasping into their kisses, Reuben unbuttoned Bunny’s shirt with both hands, desperate to rid him of his clothes. With a roll of his broad shoulders, the shirt slid down onto the bed. Bunny lifted his head and blinked down at Reuben, his eyes blazing. Then he smiled and whispered, “You must know you’re bloody irresistible?”

  Reuben raised his eyebrow, trying to appear casual about Bunny’s remark even though it made him beam like a fool.

  “Well, that makes two of us, then, because I can’t wait to get you naked.” Reuben stroked Bunny’s chest, moaning at the sensation of that firm body beneath his hand. Bunny gave a soft purr of delight, nipping at Reuben’s earlobe.

  “So get me naked,” he breathed. “I’m all yours.”

  Reuben toyed with the end of Bunny’s belt, teasing him. “Well, I’ll have to take this very nice belt off you.”

  Bunny murmured his assent against Reuben’s ear. All the time he was slowly unbuttoning Reuben’s shirt, drawing out the delicious moments for as long as possible. Reuben unfastened Bunny’s belt and stroked over the shape of his erection.

  His sword!

  No.

  He kissed Bunny as he popped open the button on his trousers, then tugged down his zip. Reuben nudged Bunny’s trousers down past his bottom until, as if there was a tear in reality itself, Christopher Manners—Bunny—was on Reuben’s little bed wearing only an immaculate pair of white shorts.

  “Wow…” Reuben murmured. Bunny embraced Rueben and rolled back onto the bed, drawing Reuben over him. He looked utterly decadent, his dark blond hair tousled on the pillow and his blue eyes alive with desire.