behind her, unable to deny the ache to be closer to her, to see how close she would allow him to get.
When he inched a little closer, she tensed, and then hurried forwards.
“Round the back, right?” She was quick to rush for the steps, and he chuckled as the wind caught her and she was forced to brace herself, was almost toppled into the deep snow.
Saint closed the door behind him and took hold of her arm, his grip firm. “Let me show you the way, my lady.”
She huffed at him, but didn’t make him release her, just accepted his hand on her. He kept her close to him as the wind battered them, as snow bit into his face and hands. She bent her head, muttering things beneath her breath he couldn’t make out over the howl of the storm. Reaching the outhouse was slow going, and his fingers were numb by the time he spied it through the snow.
“That’s a big toilet,” she muttered, teeth chattering in a way he didn’t like. She was getting cold too.
“It’s a few things in one building. Larder. Storage. Bathroom.” He tried to pick up the pace to stop her from freezing, only she didn’t match his speed and he almost ended up dragging her along behind him.
“Gods!” she bit out as a particularly brutal gust of wind picked snow up and hurled it at both of them, plastering her front.
“Come on. Not far now.” He pushed himself forwards, determined to get to the outhouse, because she wasn’t the only one who needed to go to the toilet now. The cold had tipped him over the edge too.
“Lovely weather we’re having.” Her breezy tone made him smile.
“And now you know why I hate winter.” He tucked her behind him as wind scoured the Ridge again, shielding her from the worst of it. He had to release her to keep her there, but any fear she would make a break for it disappeared as she fisted the back of his jacket, clinging to him.
“You make a good wind blocker.” She nestled a little closer to him and muttered something about how warm he was.
She had to be freezing if she thought he was warm, because he was so cold that he was sure his balls were about to fall off.
“Why, thank you.” He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the wooden hut and tugged the door open. “Here you go. Door to door service.”
He lifted his left arm and looked under it, wanted to smile again as she poked her head around him, but his face was frozen. She was quick to dash for the cover of the bathroom and even quicker to slam the door in his face.
Saint remained behind the cover of the building and relieved himself, made fast work of it as the cold chilled him. He tucked himself away and zipped up, moved back to the door and waited. When more than a few minutes had passed, he rapped his knuckles on it.
“What’s the hold-up?” he grumbled. “It’s fucking freezing out here.”
Her soft voice came through the door. “I can’t go… you’ll hear me.”
He scoffed at that. “I’m standing in a roaring blizzard. I’ll hear nothing.”
She muttered, “You will.”
Saint rolled his eyes and searched for a solution, something other than offering to move away from the door because he wasn’t going to leave her unguarded. “I can sing, then I won’t hear you.”
Not that he would hear her even if he didn’t sing, but maybe it would set her at ease.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Her voice was louder now as another blast of wind cut across the flat valley bottom. “It might be more off-putting.”
He chuckled at that. Humour. It was out of place, but it made him feel she was growing more comfortable around him now.
When he remained silent, she softly said, “Saint? Could you sing?”
He leaned his back to the wall, jammed his hands in his pockets and did as she had asked, singing an old country song she was sure to take the piss out of him over, pointing out how uncultured he was because he didn’t know any modern tunes.
He hadn’t made it far into the song before the door to his left opened. He stopped and looked at Holly, caught the awkward edge to her gaze as she lowered it to the snow and then lifted it again, meeting his.
“You have a nice singing voice.”
That soft admission took him aback, had him