Islipped out of the inn just before dawn. Even though I could have used a few more hours in bed, my curiosity had waged war with my quest for sleep. Before the festival grounds came alive this morning, there was something I needed to see. I might not get another chance to investigate before Yule.
The air was crisp, and a layer of frost carpeted the ground. I blew on my hands and hurried to the meadow just as the sky began to fade from black to indigo. When I reached the edge of town, only silence greeted me. It was so still and calm, quite the contrast to the day before. Not a single wagon or tent stirred.
I crept past them, willing my boots to remain silent. If anyone caught me…well, I could only imagine what they’d think. Theft was rare in the Isles, and the Yule Festival practically relied on trust. We frequently left our wagons unguarded. Our wares were ripe for the taking. Not once in the six years I’d been coming here had anything gone missing.
To break that trust would mean shattering the cocoon of safety and hope that we celebrated each year.
‘Course, I wasn’t going to steal anything. I just wanted to have a look.
Luckily, no one spotted me before I reached Ragnar’s wagon. Now that I had a chance to examine it closer, I really took it in, eyeing the smooth wood and the polished shine that had not yet been faded by time. It was a much smaller wagon than mine—maybe half the size—but it was brand new. If I were to guess, this was his first event. The quality of his ale was telling, too. Whatever he’d done before this, he hadn’t been a brewmaster.
“Whoareyou really?” I murmured to myself. And where had he come from? What was his purpose here? I found it hard to believe it was as simple as selling that terrible ale. Perhaps I’d find the answers inside.
I paused by the rear wheels and waited a breath, listening for footsteps on the path. The last thing I wanted was for him to catch me in the act. When silence was my only answer, I swept the burlap aside and hopped into the wagon. Light on my feet, I landed in a crouch. It took a moment for my vision to focus.
The crimson hair was the first thing I saw. Then it was his bare torso, marked by a long jagged scar. A blanket curled across his hips, barely covering the bottom half of him. His substantial muscles gleamed from the dawn light cutting through the gap in the burlap.
I sucked in a sharp breath, so loud it could wake the dead—andthe living.
Ragnar’s eyes cracked open, and the fire in them speared me.
I froze. What in fate’s name was I supposed to do now? Tumble out the back of the wagon and hope he hadn’t seen me? Maybe he was still asleep.
He sat up suddenly, and the blanket slid down his front. I swallowed around the lump in my throat.
Definitelynot asleep.
Maybe if I didn’t move, he’d forget I was here.
Or he’d go back to sleep. I could be a dream and nothing more.
But Ragnar did not lie down and go back to sleep. He smirked at me.
“If you keep staring, I might think you like what you see,” he drawled. “Is that…is that drool on your face?”
Hastily, I rubbed my chin. It was dry. Damn him. “I should have known you were an arrogant bastard in addition to everything else. You wish I was drooling over you.”
“You’rethe one gaping atme, darling.” His eyes swept across me, then narrowed. “You’re still wearing the same dress you were yesterday. Long night?”
“That’s none of your concern.” At long last, I dragged my gaze away from him. And much to my chagrin, he did have several wooden kegs stacked beside him. On the other side of the wagon sat a shelf lined with tankards, and the rich scent of ale perfumed the wagon. He hadn’t been lying about his wares, at least. Not that it really changed anything. All this could be a cover for something else.
Or those kegs were hiding something. And I was determined to find out exactly what that was.
“Why aren’t you staying at the inn?” I suddenly asked.
“You mean, the inn with no vacancies?”
I frowned. Damn Nilsa. She’d been teasing me, pretending like Ragnar was staying at the inn just to get a reaction out of me. And it had worked. Cheeks hot, I cleared my throat and grasped for an explanation as to why I was here, poking around in his wagon at an ungodly hour. While he was shirtless. And potentially not even wearing trousers.
Gods, was he completely naked?
I needed to get out of here.
“Ah, so. I think I’ll be going now.” I turned to leap outside and into what I hoped would be a hole in the ground—that would be better than ever having to face Ragnar again—but his deep chuckle gave me pause.
“Well, isn’t this interesting?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave. “You thought I was staying at the inn, which meant you expected to find this wagon empty. Let me guess…you realized you couldn’t compete with me fair and square, so you thought you’d steal my ale instead. That way, I’d have nothing to sell at my tavern, and you’d get your spot back.”
“Actually, I realized youcan’tcompete with me. You can shove me in a corner, but that won’t make your ale any better than mine. And you know that. So there must be some other reason you’re here, right?” I arched a brow. “You’re not really a brewer or any other kind of merchant. This wagon is brand new, and I’ve never seen you before. I think you’re hiding something, and I don’t plan to let you ruin Yule by doing…whatever it is you think you’re going to get away with here.”
