Midnight Sun (Arctic Love Book 3) (3 page)

"I couldn't let you pay for me," Frey protested weakly, his voice low.

"I want to show you this. I'm asking you out. I do believe there's an unspoken rule that the person doing the asking pays for the one being asked out."

Frey blinked again. Jørgen had noticed he did that a lot when he was nervous. "O-ok," came the eventual answer. Frey quickly looked away, but not before Jørgen saw the blush marring his cheeks. "I'd need to ask for a few days off, it might be a little while till I can get them."

"Brilliant!" Jørgen smiled widely. "There's no hurry. I need a little while to plan anyway. Just let me know which days you get. You do have a license?"

"Yes. Why?"

"We can't take this trip on horseback, it'll take too long. So we'll be driving snowmobiles."

"Oh." Frey nibbled at his lower lip. "I've never driven a snowmobile before."

"No worries, I can teach you. It's pretty simple once you get the hang of it."

Frey looked doubtful and Jørgen smiled again. "I look forward to spending more time with you."

Frey's moss-green eyes came up to stare at him. Jørgen felt his heart skip a beat at the brilliant colour of those eyes, at the mix of emotions swirling in them.

It was all very clear to him; he was falling in love with Frey.

*~*~*

The sun rose higher in the sky for every day, bringing with it longer days and lighter nights. Migrating birds were slowly returning to Svalbard, giving new life to the mountainsides.

It took three weeks before Jørgen and Frey could get the same two days off, but at the very end of March they were ready. Jørgen could tell that Frey's nervousness was back and when he got too close to him while teaching him how to run the snowmobile, he flinched away.

Jørgen didn't mention it, but he was surprised by how much it hurt. He had thought Frey had become more comfortable around him after their horseback riding trip, but apparently three weeks apart had caused him to retreat back into his scared old self. Jørgen hoped he could draw him out easily enough this time. He did not like that Frey seemed so afraid of everything, especially of him.

Once Frey had got the hang of the snowmobile, they were off from Longyearbyen.

Svalbard was still in winter and it was freezing outside, but Jørgen enjoyed feeling the cold wind against his face anyway. He loved driving a snowmobile over the snow-covered tundra, loved the adrenaline it gave him. He didn't go as fast as he usually did, because Frey was not as used to it as he was, but it was fast enough.

It had only been a couple of hours when they reached Barentsburg. Jørgen smiled to himself as he watched Frey climb off the snowmobile, his body clearly stiff after sitting for so long.

"You hungry?" Jørgen asked. "We can go eat at the hotel here." He had parked outside it on purpose.

Frey nodded and followed him inside, looking around curiously.

Barentsburg was not big. Only about four hundred Russians resided there compared to Longyearbyen's over two thousand. The buildings around them were sturdy, but the colours were duller than in Longyearbyen. While Longyearbyen consisted of houses in a blur of different colours in red, yellow, blue and green, all the houses here were brown.

"Jørgen!" someone called behind him and Jørgen turned around to see Radimir Kaminski coming towards him.

"Hey, mate." Jørgen switched over to English—Radimir had never learned Norwegian, and Jørgen had certainly never learned any Russian. They shook hands and moved into a one-armed hug. Radimir was taller than him and buffer, with short blond hair and brown eyes. Jørgen remembered several late nights in bed with the man. They'd hooked up once in a while, when Radimir was in Longyearbyen, before Frey's arrival in the settlement.

Jonathan had just been a fuck-buddy; everything between them had been sex. He'd never even kissed him, because if there was one thing about Jonathan it was that he did not kiss. With Radimir there had been more between them for a while. They'd had a very good time together, but Radimir had never been able to forget another man he'd been in love with for a very long time, and now Jørgen had met Frey.

"How're you doing?" Jørgen asked, smiling. They were still good friends, even if they didn't have sex anymore. Radimir was a good bloke. It wasn't his fault he couldn't get over the other man. At least he had tried and they'd had good times together.

"I'm doing great!" Radimir grinned. "Have a few mates from Russia visiting. Three of them are out racing with the snowmobiles right now though. Only Lesya is in town."

Jørgen knew that nickname and he raised his brows in question. Radimir shrugged his shoulders lightly, but Jørgen wasn't fooled.

"You're an idiot," Jørgen murmured.

A wry smile appeared on Radimir's face. "Don't I know it."

Radimir looked over at Frey, who had been standing silently behind Jørgen all the time.

"What're you two up to?" Radimir asked, but Jørgen knew that that wasn't the question he really wanted to ask.

"I'm showing Frey around Svalbard, and after we've eaten we're headed towards Van Mijenfjord and the Fridtjov glacier."

"Excellent trip." Radimir nodded. "Have fun." He smiled, then brushed past them and was gone.

Jørgen smiled tentatively at Frey as they sat down at an empty table. "Radimir's a friend of mine." He had been more than that, but Jørgen wasn't sure how to tell Frey that, so he kept quiet. He didn't want to lie, but what had been between him and Radimir was over. And besides, Frey and he probably didn't have anything except perhaps a tentative friendship forming, so it wasn't like he was keeping valid information.

Frey just nodded, but he didn't meet Jørgen's eyes.

*~*~*

Jørgen sat on the seat of his snowmobile, which was parked right next to Frey's. Jørgen would've preferred moving over to Frey's seat, to sit next to him, but he didn't dare be so bold. That might scare Frey off completely.

Frey's focus was on the Fridtjov glacier. He seemed to be completely mesmerised by the majestic view. Jørgen had seen the glacier countless times, so he turned his head to gaze out over the Van Mijenfjorden. He spotted a polar bear far away, lumbering on the pack ice.

"Look," he said, drawing Frey's attention. He pointed towards the bear.

Frey sat up straighter and leaned forward slightly. "It's a polar bear." An excited smile appeared on his lips.

Jørgen smiled at the sight of Frey's excitement, but he didn't want to stare so he too turned to look at the bear. As they both sat quietly watching the enormous animal, the bear suddenly lashed out with a paw into the water and dragged a seal halfway up on the ice.

Frey jerked back with a gasp and a gloved hand shot up to cover his mouth.

"That's two things you don't see every day," Jørgen muttered, just as shocked as Frey at the sight ahead.

Frey turned to him in confusion.

"It's not every day you see a polar bear," Jørgen clarified. "And it's certainly not every day you see a bear hunt seal." Jørgen had never seen it, so that sight was just as new to him as it was to Frey.

Frey's eyes flickered back to the bear, who bent his head down and bit into the trashing seal, dragging it further up on the ice, blood trailing behind.

"I don't ever want to see that again," Frey murmured stiffly, turning his head away from the sight.

Jørgen found it more fascinating than anything, but Frey's discomfort had him straddling his snowmobile again. "Should we leave then? Ready to head back home?"

Frey nodded and straddled his own snowmobile.

"You ok?" Jørgen asked. "That came as quite an unsettling surprise."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Frey met his eyes. "Thanks for asking."

Jørgen smiled. They'd had a good time today. Not much talking as they'd mostly been driving, but just being in Frey's company was enough for Jørgen. Seeing Frey's obvious awe and appreciation of the arctic landscape around them made him fall all the more for him, and Jørgen wished he could draw this time out even more. But he knew he couldn't. They had to get back to Longyearbyen before dark.

They drove back towards home. It was getting late. The sun was getting lower in the sky, but the season of the midnight sun was upon them so they would have quite a while yet to reach Longyearbyen. It wouldn't be complete dark, even in the middle of the night, not anymore. The darkest it would become was twilight.

Jørgen was so deep in thought and the feel of the wind ripping against his clothes, he almost did not notice that Frey had stopped. Jørgen turned his snowmobile around on the open tundra and drove back to where Frey had parked, worried that something might have happened to him.

"What's wrong?" he called.

Frey didn't answer and neither did he look at him. Frey's gaze was locked somewhere to Jørgen's side, and Jørgen frowned in wonder.

"Jørgen. Is that—" His breath hitched and Jørgen quickly turned to see what it was that had Frey so worked up.

Jørgen's breath caught in his throat at the sight that met him.

"Yes, it is," he whispered. "It's a dead polar bear."

Chapter Three

Frey swallowed heavily, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. He sat back up on the snowmobile and drove up to the fallen bear. A trail of blood lit up the snow, leading a few metres in the opposite direction to where the bear lay.

"Fuck!"

Jørgen's exclamation startled Frey so much that he jumped in his seat.

Frey watched as Jørgen got off the snowmobile and walked over to the bear, checking out the enormous animal.

"Shot," Jørgen mumbled before he straightened up again. His eyes, normally a clear green, had darkened. "Someone shot him two times"

Jørgen's clenched fists trembled.

"The first time only wounded him, so they shot him again. I hope that shot killed him—so that he didn't have to suffer any more."

Frey really hoped so too. The bear obviously had suffered; he had dragged himself to where he now lay.

"Did you see anyone?" Jørgen looked right at Frey, and for once he wasn't smiling or his usual nice self. He was angry, really angry. But Frey knew Jørgen wasn't angry at him, and though it would usually bother him to see such blatant rage in someone, it somehow didn't now.

"I'm not sure," Frey muttered uncertainly. "I saw the bear lying there, and at first I thought it was just napping, but then I think I saw someone driving away, but they were so far away, I can't be sure. Then I realised the bear wasn't moving, so I stopped."

"Shit!" Jørgen ran his gloved hand over his face. "Shooting a polar bear is a crime. We have to get back to the settlement and alert the governor. This has to be investigated." His expression was grim as he went over to his snowmobile again.

"Can we just leave the carcass?" Frey asked quietly as he looked back over at the unmoving bear.

Jørgen looked conflicted. "We shouldn't, but we don't have any choice. Whoever shot him could come back, and it's better that we're not around if they do. If they take the carcass... At least we know there's someone out there who's shot a bear, so the governor can investigate it."

Frey glanced around uncertainly. The tundra was empty as far as he could see and silent except for their snowmobiles.

"They probably left because they heard us," Jørgen continued. "The quicker we get back to Longyearbyen, the quicker someone can get out here to take care of it. They wouldn't dare come back quite yet, I'd imagine." Jørgen ran his gloved hand over his face again and sighed. "This is bad. If this had been self-defence, they never would've left. No, this isn't the result of a bear attack. We've got poachers on the island."

Frey didn't like the sound of that.

*~*~*

The days went by, with the sun rising higher and higher, making the nights lighter for each one that passed. Frey had to close the blinds on his bedroom window to be able to sleep. The sun was lighting up the landscape twenty-four seven now, until autumn would once again take over and it would sink again.

Frey had been feeling restless since the snowmobile trip with Jørgen. Jørgen was constantly on his mind and Frey found himself wishing for things he wasn't sure he could deal with. He shouldn't want Jørgen like he did, but he couldn't help it. Jørgen had got under his skin and now that he had, there was nothing Frey could do about it.

He had known he was attracted to Jørgen, but seeing Jørgen talking to that Russian man, being so familiar with him, had caused Frey to feel something he never had before: jealousy. It was even worse now when he knew Jørgen used to sleep with that man. Andreas had confirmed his suspicions a few days after the trip.

Frey hadn't seen much of Jørgen since, but Jørgen had apologised for being so busy. Frey didn't know why he had apologised, it wasn't his fault tourist season had started, but he guessed that was how Jørgen was.

Jørgen was always so kind. Frey had nothing to worry about with him.

Which was why he was currently standing outside Jørgen's house. It wasn't the biggest house, but it was more than enough for one person. As the other houses in Longyearbyen, it was painted in bright colours: green. It should have been a hideous colour on a house, but here on Svalbard it fit in, as did all the other various colours scattered around the settlement.

Frey bit his lower lip. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? Why was he standing here to begin with? He was falling for Jørgen, but could he really do something about it? If Jørgen, by some miracle, felt the same, would Frey be able to give him what he needed?

Frey lifted his hand to press the bell, then took a step back. It shouldn't have been so hard. He shouldn't have been so terrified. Varg never had trouble getting blokes. He'd even managed to get Jonathan, whom Frey had heard quite a lot about since moving up to Longyearbyen. Andreas too had gone for what he wanted. He and Christian were happy together. Why couldn't Frey master the courage to confess his feelings, maybe try a relationship? One bad experience was not akin to all experiences being bad, he knew that. But the fear was still there and he couldn't still it.

Frey startled when the door opened.