13. Teddy

I t took most of the day to calm myself down enough to think clearly, but then today had been…a bit of a shock to the system.

I wasn't used to handling people, full on, all the time. The college had put up posts on social media, and people were already ringing to reserve trees and wanting a weekend market stand and did I deliver and could they sell their weird-ass small business venture crafty things on site?

It was a bit much, and that was only the start of our short season. Things would only get worse, but this was how I made enough money to see me through the rest of the year, so I just had to bite my tongue and get on with it. Which meant having a bunch of college kids with chainsaws follow me around.

Trigger-happy, twenty-something kids with chainsaws were deeply concerning. They'd had safety training, but it had taken a very stern talking-to and bulking myself up to the max to get them to take this seriously. I point at tree. You cut that tree. You don't fucking mess with me or the trees around it, and you wear your helmet and high-vis gear and you fucking love it. Are we clear?

Bloody kids, but they were mine for the remainder of the term, learning the ropes of safe and sustainable tree farming, with all that entailed.

I suddenly had a much deeper appreciation for my dad because even though I'd done this last year, this year felt harder. More fucked up .

Speaking of fucked up, I was back in my kitchen wanting to take my shoes off, but the floor was filthy after people had been traipsing through here to get coffee all day and…

No cats.

I didn't blame them. Too many people and the door having been open most of the day meant it was cold as anything in my kitchen. Even with Ned Anderson standing right behind me.

"Hey, buddy," he said quietly.

"What?"

"Where's all the furniture at?"

"Don't mock my imaginary furniture. It's very cost-effective." I had no idea where my snark came from, but he smiled.

I still struggled to look at him, having lost…well, my marbles mostly. He was here, not in Arizona, in that wanky new work gear and hat and stuff—at least he'd removed the label off the gloves.

"Want me to take my shoes off?" he offered, tiptoeing around the puddles on the dark tiles.

"Working site office," I huffed. "It's always like this in winter."

"You need to put a sign up or something. Get people to take their shoes off. It's your home."

I gave him a stare. Last thing I needed was lecturing, but I kind of got his point.

"You need to wear high-vis clothing down here from now on. We have heavy lorries coming through, and nobody can see you in the dark gear in like that."

"Okay." He looked a bit shy, standing there while I barked away at him.

"Safety first."

"Yes, boss."

Fuck. I stomped around searching for the right box, located it and flipped it open to find the senile old kitty cat curled up on top of the bright-orange safety vests inside. They had the farming college logo printed on the back, but he'd probably only wear it here anyway.

"Here." I handed him one and nodded approvingly as he stuck it in his pocket .

"Thanks. Very Swedish, by the way. I'm getting used to grunting out one-word sentences now, waving my hand around. The coffee though… Not sure I'll ever get used to that. It's like—"

"Stop," I said, holding up my hand. "What the fuck? Just…sit down."

Surprisingly, he did as he was told and sat on the kitchen chair.

I was tired. So bloody drained. All I wanted was to sweep my floor and get some food down my neck and go to bed. The very, very last thing I needed…was…this. Him and his insane talking with too many words that had zero meaning.

I sighed, took of my hat, threw it and my neckwear on the table next to my gloves and unzipped my jacket. It was bloody freezing in here, honestly.

"You need to get your central heating checked over," he said, like he was following my thoughts. "Can't have you living in this all winter."

"Stove," I gestured to the fireplace. He nodded, which made me smile, because fuck him. Sideways.

"Want me to light it while you go have a shower or something?"

"This is not a hook-up," I growled. "Don't even think about it."

"Bud—"

"Stop with the bud. Not your buddy or whatever, and why the fuck are you speaking English to me?"

He was incredibly handsome when he was embarrassed. Even more so coupled with being flustered and throwing his hands in the air.

"I need to apologise for being an idiot," he stuttered out in broken Swedish. "I should have told you I was coming, and come down and seen you as soon as I did, but I was jet-lagged and not even sure what the hell I was doing here in the first place. And then Flora came by and shouted at me and told me I wasn't allowed anywhere near you. She's…terrifying."

Now it was me who was chuckling in flustered embarrassment.

"So…what is this then?"

"This?" he countered, unzipping his jacket. "Not a hook-up. Message received, but I'm taking the jacket off so I can sort your fireplace without setting myself on fire. Go shower."

Go shower? What the fuck? But I did it. I went into the bathroom and stared at my reflection for half a minute before I realised I was still wearing my winter gear. Back out again and into the laundry room, I stripped and hung all my gear on the drying rack, switched it on, and… breathe .

A shower. Okay.

I appeared a while later, in thermals. If it was freezing down here, it was full-on arctic up in the bedroom. Fucking hell, but he'd managed to get a fire going, obviously finding his way around the wood stack outside, and there was even something whirring around in the microwave.

"Pytt-i-panna," he said in his weird accent. "I know it's like sacrilege to microwave that stuff, but Violet always does and I'm still here. Eat."

I wanted to tell him not be such a heathen, there was a bloody frying pan right there, but I let it go and sat at the table while he served up nuked food and beer like I'd invited him in for some kind of frostbitten date.

He was back in his coat, and I kind of wanted to put my hat on again to keep the heat in.

"I suppose you expect some kind of…explanation," he said, shooting me a nervous smile.

I nodded. This was…weird, but I was…thrilled. Delighted with the company. Also? Terrified.

"Violet offered me a job. I tried to resign from where I worked, but yeah, I think I got fired in the end. It's all kind of a blur, to be honest. I cut the lease on my flat, packed up my stuff—there's a shipping container coming in a few weeks with my things, and then…"

"So now you're back?"

"Went to get my citizenship registered, personal number done, all that jazz. Ready to be a fully-fledged Swede again. Got my bank account back up and running. They're sending me a new card. Suppose I need a new ID too if I'm going to replace these beers. "

Like we'd be having beers here regularly, like—to copy his words—like some kind of buddies. I shook my head in weirded-out-ness galore. This was a bit too much.

"Wait for me," I hissed out. "What the fuck was that about?"

He flinched and shrugged, staring down at his plate.

"Just that," he said quietly. "Back then, it was all I could think of—that I wanted to go home and cut all the ties and get myself back here as fast as I could. For you. So I could…be with you."

I had no words. My throat was dry.

"Which I know makes zero sense, Ted, but can you see why it took me a while to get myself together enough to come see you? You can throw me out all you like, but I have a…proposal."

"A proposal," I repeated like a muppet.

"Let's…I mean. See how we go. Let's just…date."

I snorted. "Ned. This is Henriksvik. Back of beyond of Nowhere.com. Wanna go on a date to the pizza place? It's takeaway only."

He actually laughed, even though I was being supremely rude.

"I know. I don't mean going out for fancy dinners. Let's just…hang out. Get to know each other. Maybe eat together in the evenings, like this. After work, I'll come down and bring you food."

"A glittering future of microwave meals?"

I didn't mean to tease him, but he got me. He really got me, and the warmth spreading in my chest as he smiled was disarming.

"Fuck you." His words were muffled by a mouthful of food. He swallowed and went on without looking up from his plate. "But that's why I like you. Because I do, Ted. I really like you. I like what we have here, I like what we did, and I need this. I need to find a way to make this work, because there is nothing left for me back home. Nothing. I think I belong here, and I'm trying to figure out how I do that."

"You want to—"

"Yes." He cut me off. "Yes I do. I want to…" He smiled. "I'm just going to lay the cards out, right here."

He'd barely touched his microwaved mush while I'd been shoving it down my gob with gusto. Nerves. I was calmer now. Calm enough that I noticed his hands shaking.

"I want to…be with you. However that will look. I've been in love with you, since I was what? Sixteen when I first arrived here? Seventeen? And I don't think I ever stopped loving what we did. I have nothing more to offer than that. I know how you live, and I want to make this…some kind of life where we can perhaps be happy. Do you get what I mean?"

"No." I laughed in relief, still tinged with those nerves. The now-roaring fire had brought warmth to the room, and he let his jacket slip off his shoulders, smiled at me.

"My dad always said the fire made him happy," I said. "The smell of the burning logs and the warmth and the calming crackles."

He nodded. "People put video loops of that stuff on their screens. Same idea."

"Not like the real thing, though."

"Nope. Nothing like it."

He'd finished eating, as had I, but we both stayed at the table, lulled into a comfortable silence by the flickering flames. I think we'd both run out of steam. Willpower. Words.

"My neck is still wet." He reached up and tugged at his collar.

"Serves you right. Wanker," I muttered, no venom.

"I should leave. Violet will have my balls if I'm not out in the sheds at seven, and she needs her car. I'll have to buy my own car if I'm going to keep driving down here every night."

"You're going to come down every night?" I was teasing, but it was slightly crazy how much I liked it when he blushed. "You better not, 'cause I couldn't walk for a week after you were here last time."

It had to be said, and I kept a stern face as long as I could, then hid my smile in my hand as he laughed and kicked my foot under the table .

"I'm not a horrible person. I'd never hurt you. I won't. I promise."

"S'okay," I almost whispered.

"It's not."

Comfort. His smile gave me comfort. Weird. My whole existence was suddenly weird.

"Gonna go." He gathered up the plates and put them in the sink, put our beer bottles in the recycling, while I sat there like a fool. Zipped his jacket back up. Hat on his head.

"Walk me out?"

"Sure." I got up on my socked feet, only then noticing he'd swept the floor.

"You should bring a mattress down and sleep here tonight," he said. "Keep warm. Just like that cat there."

I glanced over at the cat and smiled fondly. "Yeah. She's another old kitty. I think she's gone blind in one eye. Sleeps most of the time. Likes the warmth."

He said nothing, just studied me while I stood there blabbering nonsense. Then he reached out and stroked his fingertips down my cheek.

"Shall we do this then?" he asked.

Should we? Was I mad? Did I want this? I wasn't sure. I was never sure of anything when he was in my space. He was trouble, I had no doubt about that, and Flo would hate me. She already hated him.

"You're not allergic to cats, are you?" I asked, floundering a bit as his hand cupped my neck, the other hand in my hair, and his face came closer and closer. I closed my eyes. He kissed me gently.

"No," he murmured, his breath warm on my lips. Then he released me. I opened my eyes in time to see him closing the door quietly behind him.

At least it had stopped snowing, I mused, as I sank down onto the floor in front of the fire, one senile cat snoring next to me, the other still asleep in the box across the room, and a roaring mess of emotions in my chest.