Page 30 of Abdominal Snowman

“What are you, the police?” he asked.

Sage groaned in frustration. “I thought you were trusting me?”

“It’s a work in progress.”

“Fine,” she said, and let her attention fall to the half eaten meal in front of her. It was delicious, but… she guessed the company was… more.

“I don’t plan to hurt you,” he murmured softly a long moment later. “If that means anything.”

Sage lifted her gaze to his, studying the… abominable curiously.

“Has anyone ever learned your secret before?” she asked.

Soren shook his head. “This is a first for me.”

She wanted to ask him so much more. Like why he was going about it this way. Wining and dining her? Why not just kill her outright the night he’d found her? It would have been so much less trouble. But instead, she let the subject drop.

“So, will you give me my camera back?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll get it from the garage after dinner, if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” she replied, meaning for much more than just keeping her equipment safe. Even if he was the one who’d taken it in the first place.

“Actually,” he began, standing to round the counter, and Sage gave him her undivided attention once again. “There’s a place not too far from here that’s usually empty around this time of year. It would be a great place for you to see and take photos of.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. “Really?”

“It’s usually a popular area in the warmer weather, but the tourists can’t get up here in the winter. Usually.” He raised his eyebrow pointedly at her before sighing. “Thanks, you know, for not running for the hills with my story.” He turned away at that, rubbing a dish cloth over the already pristine counter. “And for being pretty decent company.” That was almost a mumble.

Sage eyed the snow out the windows, though with how bright it was inside, she could only see her reflection. “As if I could run anywhere anyway.”

She deserved the dry stare Soren gave her. “We both know you have access to my internet.”

With a chuckle, Sage digressed. “Okay, okay, you’re welcome. And I would love to see this hot spot. When can we go?”

“When the weather is kinder. No use trying to go out now, the storm is too strong.”

Sage frowned. “Yeah, I thought I heard the weather guy report that it would be over by this morning.”

Soren stared out the same window she had. “Maybe he was wrong.”

“Seems like it,” Sage scoffed, turning back to her mostly empty plate.

The winter storm outside rattled the windows, the crackling embers of the fireplace the only thing breaking up the quiet of the cabin as they finished eating.

Sage rose, padding softly to the kitchen with their empty beer bottles. She set them on the counter next to the sink as Soren gathered the dishes. They made a good team, Sage methodically drying the dishes Soren placed on the mat.

Her mind wandered with the rhythm of the task, across the country to her old life and how much had changed in such a short amount of time, to California where Gabi was, and finally ended up back in this very cabin. On Soren.

She peeked at him from the corner of her eye, his corded arms soapy up his wrists, arms flexing as he scrubbed a particularly tough spot on the pan. His hair was tousled just so, the white sticking up at odd angles from where he’d worn his cap all day.

Soren pulled his hands up, bubbles sticking to his skin as Sage watched him drag a hand up and blow. The explosion of soapy suds got her right in the face.

“Soren!” she exclaimed, bubbles dripping down her cheeks to the sound of his roaring laughter.

Wiping the water from her face, she stared at him in disbelief until his laughter waned. Something like chagrin colored his cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was—”

While he’d been wallowing in embarrassment, Sage had rolled up the hand towel and, taking the opportunity of his distraction, cracked it toward him. Soren jumped out of the way, surprise and then mischief replacing the look of shame on his face. He grinned, scooping up another handful of bubbles and tossing them her way.