I feel a brief flash of embarrassment as she steps aside so I can help Andi through the door. She doesn’t even meet my eyes. Apparently, I read a whole hell of a lot more into that kiss she gave me than she had intended, and I don’t have the time or energy to live that down.
Stupid. And I know it upset Andi. That was why she went barreling ahead of me into the street, straight into a kiss with Jack that then pissed me off in turn. And then, somehow, this happened.
That’s the really horrible part; I don’t quite know how she ended up getting this chilled through. She wasn’t even on the street a quarter of an hour. She was properly bundled and her hair wasn’t wet. How did this happen?
“Thank you,” I tell Gabby on her way out as I help Andi over to the edge of the bed. She’s shivering and huffing even in the warm room. Very bad sign.
“What the hell happened? You’re shaking like you were out there for hours.” I help her out of her coat, which feels perfectly dry…but when I touch her bare wrist in the process, it feels like she had it resting in a bucket of ice.
“I don’t know,” she chatters, peeling off her gloves to reveal almost colorless hands. “I feel horrible. I’m scared.”
She hugs herself and hunches forward as she sits on the edge of the bed, and I hastily pour her some cocoa and bring it over. “Here,” I tell her, and help her hold the cup so she can swallow the contents without sloshing it everywhere.
“I’m so cold,” she mumbles. She swallows down the cocoa so fast that I fear she’s burned her throat, but all she does is shake her head and push the mug back at me. “It barely makes a dent. I need more.”
“Okay. I’m gonna suggest you take your clothes off and get under the covers,” I say quickly, trying to ignore just how much this is freaking me out.
This is a million times worse than watching her get kissed by another guy. She’s suffering. I’d rather lose a limb than watch and do nothing.
She nods and starts peeling off her layers of sweaters, her hat and scarf, her boots. The skin beneath is so very pale, even for her. I lay a hand against her cheek and the chill there stings me. “Okay, sweetie, this isn’t good,” I mutter. “If we can’t get you warmed up, I’m driving you to the hospital.”
She looks up at me bleakly as she strips down to her long underwear. I check the sleeve cuff to find that it’s not damp either. It should be insulating. But she’s still sitting here with her teeth chattering.
“Please, no goddamn hospital,” she mumbles. “You know how much I hate them.”
“Yeah, and you know how much I hate the idea of you risking your health if it turns out you need a hospital.” I keep my voice gentle, but with an edge to it, because Goddamn it, Andi. “I’m giving this half an hour, and if you don’t start improving, off we go.”
She stares at me, her eyes starting to go bright, and her chin starting to tremble. Oh shit, I think, feeling a familiar panic try to fight past my control. I squash it, reminded again that I still love this woman, even if I can never be with her.
But then, before I can say anything reassuring, she bursts into tears.
Shit shit shit. Okay. Calm down, man. “Fuck. Okay. Andi, honey, what can I do to help you?”
“I don’t know,” she sobs, sounding disoriented and a little hysterical. “I’m so cold and I can’t think, but please, no hospital. People go there to die!”
It hits me, even as I scoop her up and help her get bundled into bed. She cries softly the whole time, mumbling “no hospital” as my heart sinks into my boots.
Of course she’s scared of hospitals. She doesn’t even want to explore abandoned ones for ghosts anymore. How much of her family has gone into a hospital in the last five years and never come out?
Her parents: car accident. Her grandmother: cancer. A cousin to suicide. Her favorite aunt who had gone in for appendicitis: dead two weeks later from sepsis. That last one, Andi had gone to the hospital every day and camped there as much as they would let her, just so Aunt Margaret wouldn’t be alone.
It’s only been two years, so of course she still feels wary.
She sits up in a ball against the pillows while I wrap the blankets and comforters around her, and then turn on the heated mattress pad I got her as a Christmas present.
“Okay,” I tell her, breathless but steady. “We are going to get you warmed up and rested, and once you’re feeling better, we’re going to do absolutely no legwork that does not take place in a heated car or a heated building.”
She nods, sniffling and shivering, her cheeks still coated with tears. “O-okay.”
Damn this cold. And damn me for not noticing sooner that something was wrong with Andi, all because I was too busy driving another wedge between us from jealousy.
And damn Jack—just for being Jack. And maybe for being more interesting than me.
I peel off my outerwear and get everything hung up while we wait for her to warm up. I bring her chamomile tea and check in halfway through her gulping it down; she’s still pale and cold, but the terrified look is weakening. Satisfied for the moment, I pull off my boots, noticing that the chunks of snow on them are still intact.
“How the fuck do any people live up here year-round?” I grumble as I put the boots on the doormat. Being willing to deal with this every day seems completely crazy to me.
No answer from Andi, but at least she’s stopped crying. I grab half a cup of coffee, fill the rest with cocoa and walk over to see how she’s doing again.
She’s drained her mug of tea and set it aside, burrowing so deep down into the blankets that she looks like a pile of bedding with a face. “How you feeling?” I ask her softly, wondering if I should be encouraged or worried by her sudden quiet.
She blinks up at me, and then says softly, “It’s only a little better.”
I check my watch. “A little is better than nothing. We’ve only been up here ten minutes.” I told myself I’d give it twenty more before I really need to worry, and it hasn’t been that long. Maybe it will be okay.
“I’m not leaving you alone until I know you’re all right and don’t need a hospital,” I say firmly. “I know we’ve had a rough time being in such close quarters for so long, but this is too important. We’ll both just have to deal with it.”
I don’t just mean the mess with Gabby, or the mess with Jack, or the sexual tension between us—which I know she’s been feeling, too. Those are concerns, though now is really not the time to think about it.
It’s hard to get out of my head, though. Through the door separating our rooms, I’ve heard her moaning at night. I even heard her cry out my name—and that was sweet hell to listen to.
I’m putting it all aside. Sexual tension and relationship problems can wait. The squabble that drove us out into the cold seems pointless and silly now. “Okay?”
She nods and then her face crumples. “Thank you.”
I want to hug her so badly that my hands flex at my sides, but I force myself to simply smile. I drag over a chair, so I can sit next to her. “No problem.”
I miss the feel of her in my arms so fiercely right now that I can barely stand it. But all I can do is care for her in the ways that she will allow.
She’s the one who set the boundaries. It’s up to her whether to take them down or not. I wish I had understood that better back when we were together.
It’s yet another thing that I wish I could show her. That I’ve changed. That I’m not that same kid I was then, the one who disappointed her so much.
Hell, I think we’ve both figured out by now that it’s almost impossible to keep a relationship together in any real way when your prefrontal lobe hasn’t even finished forming. If I had realized that back then, I would have waited years before even trying to get with her.
I still hope I can. I know it’s stupid of me to camp at her gates like this. I’ve done everything I can to hide it. But I’m the kind of guy who can’t hide anything for shit.
“You know, if Jack can get us that in
terview, that’s all we have left to do, and maybe monitoring the mistletoe on the fifth.” I try to distract her from her discomfort and fear by talking like the future beyond her current reality is a foregone conclusion. “Then we can just go home.”
She seems to have thawed out enough to at least talk shop a little, but it takes her a minute. “Do you think anyone will mess with the deer cams if we put them up around town?”
“Not if we get permission from the shopkeepers. If this follows the pattern we expected,” I see Andi reach for her mug, and I get up to fill it with more tea, “then we will see all the mistletoe either disappear or be taken down between sundown and sunup on the last of the Twelve Days.”
“The fifth.” She frowns hazily, then sighs at herself and nods.
“Exactly.” I bring it back to her and our fingers brush. Hers are still cold. I frown as I feel them barely close around the warm mug, and gently wrap my hands around her own to help her grasp it. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do this. Don’t spill.”
“If I keep putting more fluid in me I’ll end up freezing to death on the toilet,” she chatters out, and then lets out a high, nervous giggle. “Especially with all the caffeine.”
“One of the reasons I switched to decaf,” I joke in a dry tone, and she lets out a tiny laugh that sounds like a sob. “But I can’t have you pissing icicles. We’ve got to warm you up a little first.”
She covers her face with her hands, and her shoulders shake. I hold the mug for her until she calms down and help her sip at it. She takes her time, and I wonder if her burned tongue is finally starting to hurt or if she’s too numb still to feel it.
“There you go,” I say when the mug is dry. I set it aside and lean over to catch her eye. “Are you thawing out?”
She takes a deep breath—and then starts to shiver again, wrapping her arms around herself. “I still can’t get warm,” she whimpers.
It’s been twenty-five minutes. She seems a little better, and she’s begging me not to go to the hospital. But I’m so alarmed by how pale and cold and shivery she is, even with blankets bundled and heat applied, that I’m still half tempted to carry her down to the car. If I do that, though, she’ll probably never forgive me.
Shit.
“Well, look. I only have one other thing I can try, but I’m afraid you’ll throw pillows at me when you recover.”
I shouldn’t even be thinking about this. It’s a stupid idea. But it’s pretty much always recommended in situations like this: body heat.
With as few clothes as possible.
“What are you gonna do?” she mumbles, her eyes alarmingly dull.
That expression on her face decides it for me. I start unbuckling my belt.
Chapter 7
Andi
* * *
Whoa, hey wait a minute. The chill that has permeated my body leaves me hazy, but I’m not so far out of it to not feel the shock when David starts shucking off his jeans.
I see red wool flannel underneath, and then he stretches up and strips off his sweaters and shirt as well. Standing there in his bright red long johns, he’s a weird mix of sexy and ridiculous, which perfectly fits the sudden strip-down. “The fuck?” I mumble.
Are we boning for warmth now? I have to pause a moment to sort out how I feel about that. My emotions are mixed, to say the least. I never stopped feeling that spark of attraction, but I never stopped feeling the wariness and frustration either.
I decide to hold off on getting annoyed until I know what the hell is actually up. Meanwhile, my gaze is taking a walk up and down his body before I even realize it.
He’s filled out a little since our days together, in a nice, defined way that makes the flannel stretch flatteringly over his limbs and chest. I wonder if his hipbones would still end up leaving bruises on my thighs. Then I tear my mind out of the gutter as fast as I find it there. Shit.
He grins awkwardly. “Uh, well, the only way I have left to help you warm up is me. Unless you feel that having me sink you in a hot bath might do the trick.” His voice is so gentle, his eyes worried. I know that we would probably already be halfway to the hospital by now if he had his way.
I’m glad that he hasn’t pushed the issue yet. “And that means that I spend the next couple hours…”
“Naked and wet in front of me. Yeah. Awkward.” Did the crotch of his ridiculous underwear just gain some volume at the thought? I’m too numb to smile or blush right now.
“Yeah, that’s g-gonna be too awkward. Let’s...let’s try this instead,” I stammer, my whole body aching from shivering so long.
This has to work. And really, I’ll take a cuddle right now—gladly. My muscles hurt, my joints hurt, and my skin stings from the contrast between the warm environment and the cold that seems to have seeped into my bones.
I started getting cold after Jack kissed me, I realize. But that has to be a coincidence. It’s not like his lips—which weren’t particularly cold—had somehow given me hypothermia. The kiss just came so soon after I went outside that I somehow connected the two events in my head.
Everything that David has done for me has helped a little, enough that I’m not quite so scared or cold any more. But as he takes hold of the covers to slip into the spot beside me for the first time in years, my stomach flips over nervously.
He lifts the edge of the covers and climbs in next to me—a welcome presence that I have to pretend to only tolerate. But then I realize I can't simply tolerate it. The moment his leg brushes against mine, the warmth of his body starts to sink into me…and stays.
I let out a gasp and cuddle against him at once, jamming my cheek against his shoulder. It’s not my imagination. Oh holy crap. I close my eyes, basking in the heat coming off of his sleek, hard body even through the flannel.
“Whoa, hey,” he laughs awkwardly as he gets settled, wrapping the bedding around us both and then looping an arm around my shoulders. The warmth coming off of him feels similar to when he turned on the mattress pad, but the heat sinks in more deeply, and it doesn’t feel like it’s fading away faster than it gets to me.
“Don’t make fun. You’re warm,” I complain, though I’m starting to notice an ache inside me that has nothing to do with the cold. I missed cuddling with him.
For all the flaws in our relationship, he was always loved to cuddle, and I liked it, too. Now I remember how good it feels to have his long limbs wrapped around me, and his cheek against the top of my head. My eyes clench further shut, as if I can use pressure alone to keep the sudden, wistful tears from escaping.
He’s gone very quiet. I can feel his heart beating fast against my hand. His chest heaves; his breath shivers. I have no doubt that if I slid my hand about two feet south, I’d feel his pulse pounding hard somewhere else, too.
I shouldn’t be thinking about David’s cock. He’s got a really nice one—big and thick, always promising more satisfaction than it ever gave me. But really, like the rest of him, it’s not my business anymore.
There came a time when signs of his affection or arousal put me on edge instead of enticing or exciting me. They told me of his expectations, while warning me as well that my own would probably not be met. At that time, I started to tense up whenever I saw the signs, knowing that, at best, I’d have to put up with more awkward sex, or at worst, we’d end up arguing.
Now, though, as I lean against him and soak up his warmth, my eyes closed, I feel the tremors inside of me go still and my muscles slowly unlock. “Oh my God,” I mumble.
“Any better?” He sounds hopeful—and a little breathless. His grip tightens around me, and another wave of warmth runs through my body.
“Yes,” I gasp, more surprised than anything. “You were right about this one, okay? You can make fun of me later.” I look into his eyes briefly and tighten my grip on him. I feel him squirm happily, his heartbeat picking up again.
I’m trying not to let it get to me. He’s probably saving my life right now—or at least saving me from a night in m
y least favorite place in the world. But I know that the circle of his arms is dangerous territory for me.
Still, I’m not going to complain. Not one bit. Not even if I end up having to fight the whole night to ignore how much I’m enjoying this.
He reaches over and folds his hands around one of mine, touching me experimentally. A thoughtful look deepens on his face even as a shiver goes through him. “It’s working,” he sighs finally, but makes no move to let my hand go.
I don’t let his go either. I lean my head against his chest instead and close my eyes as his heartbeat slowly evens out. I know he has to be wishing we were doing more than just cuddling; there’s part of me that wishes that, too, which is why it’s dangerous.
“Sorry about this,” I sigh as feeling comes prickling back uncomfortably into my fingers and toes. “I know you want to get out of here, and here we are spending an extra day because my ass got a chill.”
“Well, the mistletoe phenomenon will end when it ends, regardless. I can put the damn deer cams up myself if I have to.” He’s stroking my hair. He’s not supposed to do that. And I’m not supposed to be leaning into it, eyes half-closed like a contented cat.
But here we are.
“We’ll catch whatever there is to catch on them the night of the fifth, and then move the hell on the next day, regardless. Our Phoenician Father Christmas can talk to you over the phone if he can’t see you before you feel better.” His tone is firm but calm, and I sigh through my nose and simply nod my agreement.
“How are you feeling now?” he asks me as he keeps petting me. I should protest. I should definitely complain.
I stretch against him, feeling a shiver go through him that has nothing to do with cold. I smile against his chest, feeling powerful and strangely calm about it. I still get to decide how far this goes.
Billionaire Romance Series: Dreams Fulfilled (1-3) Page 19
