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Excerpt:
"You the photographer then?" the shoveling guy asked. Jesse groaned to himself. Talk about stating the obvious. What a thing to say. Not only that, but the guy probably expected an answer. Snow guy, the hotel owner's son presumably, had a low and husky voice, but Jesse didn't want or need interruptions if he only had five minutes to capture a whole post. The more photos he took the more likely it was that he would take a photo that mattered. Perhaps, if he ignored the other man, he would shut up. "Do you want to see something?" Shovel Guy asked. "A way up the garden is an old shed. It's where we store the wood for the winter—"
"No, that's fine," Jesse interrupted with an abrupt wave of his hand. Maybe the man clearing the path was a sandwich short of a picnic. Why the hell did he think Jesse wanted to see a shed? Jesse bent low at the waist to examine the petals of some winter flower burned at the edges by the sun and filled with small deposits of snow.
"It's a good photo." God, the guy was persistent.
"Jeez, man, will you leave me alone to concentrate?"
Jesse spun on his heel to face the guy as he spoke, the same guy who had now pushed the hood of his huge parka away from his face. Jesse wasn't sure who was more shocked—the guy who looked utterly gobsmacked at what Jesse had just said or Jesse at seeing more face. Jesse couldn't stop himself, photos or no, post or not. He stared. And he probably had his mouth open. It certainly felt like it as the cold air hit his throat. Snow guy was gorgeous. Beautiful, with a strong stubble-darkened jaw and the same brilliant blue eyes as Diana.
"Sorry, I was…" Jesse began weakly, but he really had no explanation. Hell. Those were really intensely cerulean eyes. Blue Eyes shrugged at the apology and then smiled. He took off a glove and held out his bare hand, a warm, wide and very strong hand that gripped Jesse’s firmly.
"Gabriel McClurey," he said, introducing himself on the shake.
"Jesse Connor," Jesse responded quickly. "I get involved," he explained weakly with a wave of his now freed hand at the snow around them. Then he stopped talking because he didn't want to come across as an idiot.
"I need to get shoveling," Gabriel said finally to break the uncomfortable silence. Jesse realized he’d stood there with an open mouth and had been staring. "Shed's up that way if you want to go yourself."
Gabriel dismissed him. He was sending him off to find the shed himself. Damn. Eye candy like Gabriel McClurey was something he didn't want to lose sight of.
"Could you show me—"
"Sorry, man, I need to shovel," Gabriel said quickly. He pulled up the scarf back over his mouth. Clearly the conversation was over.
"Okay," Jesse said reluctantly. "Thanks."
Gabriel resumed the long sweeping motions that cleared the pathway, and Jesse hovered for a while out of sight. He took a few shots of the tall, broad, blue-eyed Gabriel bent over and flexing to clear snow. Gabriel was too wrapped up for Jesse to see what he wanted to see, but a few photos of “man in action” would be okay. Wouldn’t it? Who was to know? He wasn’t taking them for the blog, just for himself. Ass up in the air, Gabriel moved to attack a new path of white. God. Now that was an easy part of body to see, jeans molded Gabriel to like a second skin, stretched across a firm tight butt. Feeling suddenly guilty, Jesse slunk away in the direction indicated. For the first time in nearly a year he was appreciating the male form and it felt odd and more than slightly like a betrayal of his wish to wallow in angst.
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