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“No. Can’t say that it has. Why were you flying to Alaska, of all places?”
“Oh, you know. For a shoot.”
He was so flushed and animated, I lost focus for a minute. “A shoot? What do you mean? Like to shoot animals?”
Oz’s eyes got wide and he nodded in slow motion. “Yes. A hunt. That was it. One of those… exotic ones. Hmm, let’s see. Alaska, Alaska… We were hunting… zebra. I think. Wait. What kind of animals do you hunt in Alaska? I can’t remember offhand.”
“Do you hunt so much you forget what kinds of animals are involved?” I felt bubbles of laughter in my chest. God, when was the last time I’d smiled this much? My cheeks actually hurt from the effort. “I’m pretty sure zebras are only found in Africa.”
“Not a zebra for sure, then. Penguins, maybe.” He looked down and fiddled with the zipper tab on his parka before thinking of something. “Oh! And birds. We shoot birds too when we go there. Like, zap as many as we can find. They make good…”
He seemed to lose his train of thought.
“Snacks?” I prompted. “Decorations?”
Oz looked at me like I was stupid. “Pets.”
“You shoot and kill penguins and birds because they make good pets.”
He seemed to realize his mistake. “We don’t shoot them with real bullets, duh. We use tranqs. Which sounds meaner than it is, really. When we get them back to the… ah… pet stores, they perk right up. Yup, just start chirping happily until some nice family comes along and adopts them.”
I parked next to his sports car and came around to the passenger side to help him out. He was trying so hard to be sober that he immediately high-stepped and tipped sideways, landing in a snow drift while I was busy closing the passenger door.
“Shit! Oz, are you okay?”
He hopped right back up and grinned. “Right as rain. Or maybe snow.” Then he laughed at his own joke.
“So, about these bird hunts,” I said, hoping to distract him from concentrating too hard on his walking. “Is that something you do for work, or…”
“No, silly. I do fashion for work.” He glanced at me and did a comedic double take. “Fuck, you’re hot. Like, lemme throw my pants at you hot. ’S not fair. Straight-shmate. Nobody ever liked straight people.”
A part of me was tempted to correct him about my sexuality just to see what happened, but I knew that wasn’t an option. His perception that I was straight was probably the only thing that had him keeping his distance. And I was selfishly using that as a weapon against him.
Because if he made even one move on me…
I shook my head because I couldn’t think like that. A quick fuck or something more… neither were options for me and they never would be. Not if I wanted to keep the man next to me safe. My thoughts drifted to him and Russ. The idea of Russ even laying a finger on Oz made me want to rip said finger and much, much more off, but the part of my brain that was still able to process reason accepted that Russ and Oz hooking up would be one more thing that kept Oz out of reach.
And I really, really needed him to be out of reach.
As soon as we stepped foot into Oz’s cabin, I could tell the furnace was out again. I watched Oz collapse on the sofa, his eyes bleary. I noticed his dog had her weird little sweater on again, so hopefully that meant she hadn’t gotten too cold. From the temperature inside the cabin, my guess was the heat had only been out a couple of hours.
“Hey, BooBear,” Oz slurred as he reached down to pick up the dog. He cuddled her against his chest. “Did you miss me, baby girl?” he asked.
As the dog happily wagged in his arms, I went to check the gas and circuit panel. The gas was fine, but I shut it off completely anyway after realizing the circuit for the furnace was popped again. I didn’t want to take the chance of it tripping in the middle of the night while Oz was in a deep sleep, so I came back out to break the news to him.
“You’re sleeping at my place tonight,” I said, grabbing the coat he’d dropped on the floor. “Grab what you need for the night, and I’ll work on the furnace issue in the morning.”
Oz’s entire face lit up. “Hot damn. Sleepover with the sexy doctor. Can we make it a threesome?” he asked as he held up the dog who automatically growled at me.
I couldn’t hold back the snort. “Easy, tiger. I’ll crash on the sofa, and you can have the bed. Come on.”
After helping him pack a few things for himself and Princess Cujo, we made our way across the drive to my place. He put the dog down long enough that she could take care of business.
