Dangerously Close

by Dee J. Adams

  Roamer barked, still at the gate. This was a dog that came when anyone called him. He listened without fail. The zing of apprehension morphed into full panic.

  Mel ran toward Roamer and the dog immediately headed toward the beach stairs. Goddammit! “Roamer!” Mel yelled because he didn’t know what the hell was going on and he didn’t like it. A bad feeling had his gut tightening. He reached the landing and saw Roamer part way down the stairs, barking his head off. “Roamer!”

  “Mel!”

  What the hell? Ashley? He glanced back toward the house but didn’t see her. He’d barely heard his name. Something looked off. Different. Oh, shit, the railing had practically disappeared. Only the top ties were in place. The rest were bent backward until the whole thing dangled over the rocks. Since her fall, Ashley always held onto that rail. If she was here when it collapsed…

  Jesus Christ!

  “Ashley!” Mel’s heartbeat tripled as he scrambled down the stairs calling her name. He looked over the edge and saw her dangling over a fifty-foot drop. Mother of God! Roamer continued to go ballistic next to him.

  “Mel!” Ashley screamed. “I can’t…I can’t hold on. I’m slipping.” Sobbing, she had her arms and legs wrapped around a railroad tie.

  Mel dropped on his stomach and reached over the edge. He barely caught the neck of her slicker as she slipped down another few inches. “Hang on, hang on!”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can, goddammit! Hang on!” He tightened his grip on her slicker and heaved. “Get a new grip as I pull you up, Ash!” Had she heard him? “Ashley, do what I tell you! Every time I heave you up, you get a new grip, you hear me?”

  She nodded. “I don’t know if I can,” she cried.

  “You can, dammit! Just do it!” He didn’t give her a chance to think about it. “On three,” he yelled. “One, two, three!” Mel heaved. Every muscle in his body tightened as he tugged, and Ashley got a new grip a few inches higher. “Good! Again. One, two, three!” Again, Mel yanked her up and she got a little higher. This time he grabbed more of her jacket and got a better hold. “Almost there, baby. You can do it! One, two, three!” He hauled her up enough to get his other hand under her arm. “Grab onto me,” he ordered.

  “I can’t, I can’t. I’ll fall!”

  “Trust me, baby. I’ve got you. Grab onto me, Ash. Do it!” Despite the cold, sweat trickled down his forehead and stung his eyes. He adjusted his grip even more. “I’ve got you. One more time. On three.” He counted and this time when he reached three, she grabbed his arms and he heaved her over the edge, rolling them both, protecting her head with his hand until she was against the wall and safely away from danger.

  Together they lay there, breathing hard, fighting for air with the stairs digging into them. Tears streaked down Ashley’s checks and mingled with the hard rain. Lightning lit up the sky and another thunderclap followed. Roamer barked and the ocean continued to roar. The noise buzzed in his brain as loud as any concert.

  Leaning over her, Mel brushed her tears aside. Her skin was like ice. He wanted to ask if she was okay, but clearly she wasn’t. She’d started shaking violently. It was no wonder…she was soaked to the skin. Her glazed eyes stared up at nothing. She was in shock.

  Mel forced himself up, his lungs still heaving, his muscles protesting, and scooped Ashley into his arms. Staying near the mountain, he took each step carefully, afraid of slipping and killing them both. Roamer stayed with him up the stairs, his dark eyes intent and his worry clear.

  Ashley shook in his arms. Every inch of her convulsed in massive tremors. “Hang on, baby, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Christ, he needed to get her warm. Now.

  Luckily the garage was still open. Roamer shook out most of the water before following Mel into the house, but it really didn’t matter since Mel himself left a big trail of water behind him. Taking the stairs two at a time, he went straight to his bedroom, cranking the thermostat on the wall as he passed by. He didn’t have time to build a fire and he had no clue how long she’d been out in this storm. Warm water seemed like the best option.

  He wasn’t sure she could stand, so he carried her to the bathroom and the huge tub he never used. Still holding her tightly, Mel balanced her on his thigh, sat on the edge of the tub and turned on the hot water. Steam rose immediately and he added a little cold water. As the tub filled, he struggled to get Ashley out of her wet clothes.

  First her jacket came off and she wasn’t any help whatsoever. Her arms were stiff, bent at the elbows and her fingers curled in as if her muscles had frozen hanging on to the ties.

  “Ashley, babe, can you hear me?” Mel adjusted her so he could reach her boots. She nodded, even though she hadn’t opened her eyes and the shakes still had hold of her. “Help me take off your clothes, Ash. We need to get you warm.”

  Her eyes fluttered open as he lifted her T-shirt. “W-what are y-you d-doing?”

  “We need to take off the wet clothes, babe.” Clearly, she was in shock. She didn’t seem to understand him. “C’mon, what do you care? How many times have I seen you in a bikini? This is nothing. Just your underwear. I’ve seen it all before, remember? Help me out.” That seemed to do the trick because she feebly attempted to lift her arms and pull out of the wet cotton. Next came her yoga pants. Mel tossed the wet clothes in a pile in the corner. His jacket, T-shirt and jeans followed until both of them were in only their underwear.

  He lifted her again, stepped in the tub and sank into the warm water.

  Of course, he hadn’t seen it all before. At least, not Ashley. Not the way he saw her now. Her white bra was transparent in the water and accentuated her plus-sized chest. Her nipples poked out with the cold and he didn’t dare look further south to her skimpy white underwear. The huge tub held them both easily and he rubbed her arms. She leaned into him and damn if that didn’t feel really good. He kept one arm around her shoulders as he continued warming her skin with his free hand. She was icy white.

  “Hurts,” she murmured. She grimaced and another round of tremors shook her.

  He’d been careful not to make the water too hot, but it was hot enough to steam the room. In another few minutes, her chills subsided and her eyes fluttered open halfway. Mel turned off the faucet and moved alongside her.

  A wave of relief settled in his chest. It seemed as if she was coming back. Steam began to obscure the mirror surrounding the tub. Roamer sat in the corner, watching every move they made. Every few minutes, Mel ran his hands over her arms and legs to make sure she was warming up. He was just starting to get warm himself. After ten minutes he started fresh hot water as the old water drained. He wanted her nice and toasty before they got out.

  Holding her so closely, a sense of serenity filled Mel. Somehow they’d crossed a line tonight and it went beyond saving her or taking a hot bath together. She was someone he didn’t want to lose. She’d snuck into his world and become his best friend. It took almost losing her for him to realize it. She shifted next to him.

  “How’re you doing, Ash? Ready to dry off?”

  She shook her head and her eyes stayed closed. “More. Finally feels good.”

  He smiled. “I think you’ve had enough water for one night. Let’s dry you off. I promise I’ll keep you warm.” He got out first, then helped her sit on the edge. He grabbed a towel off the rack and draped it over her shoulders. Then he reached for another one for himself. Hell, she couldn’t see him, so he lost his underwear and quickly wrapped the towel around his waist. Although he’d warmed her, he wasn’t sure how steady she was. “Do I need to carry you?” he asked.

  She nodded her head, then shook it. Water dripped from her short hair and she was too damn cute for words.

  “Is that a yes or a no?” he asked as he rubbed the towel across her back.

  “No. I think I can do it, but my legs feel like noodles.”

  Her whole body must hurt. She must have been frickin’ terrified. To be hanging onto the railroad tie was one thing, but
to be unable to see what was happening around her had to have been a new level of scared.

  “Wait,” he said. She still had her feet in the tub and he stood behind her. “Take your bra off. You need to get completely dry.” She didn’t move and Mel figured she was being shy. “Ash, baby, it’s okay. I can’t see you. The towel is covering you. Go ahead and take off your underwear.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t…I can barely lift my arms. It’s like they’re frozen. My hands really hurt too. I don’t think I can hold the towel.”

  He’d been right about her muscles freezing up. How long had she been hanging on before he got there? “Let me see your hands.” He sat next to her on the edge and took her right hand. Jesus. No wonder her hands hurt. Her palm and fingers were bright red as if they’d been burned. He took the other one. Both were covered with splinters from the railroad tie. Fuck.

  “Okay,” he said. “Looks like I need to do some first aid since you brought the railing in with you. But let’s take this in order. Off with the wet and into something dry.” This just meant he’d take off her underwear for her. No problem. How many times had he divested a woman of all her clothes? Too many to count. So this shouldn’t be a big deal. Except for some reason it was. Because this was Ashley.

  “I’m going to reach under the towel, okay?” he told her. “You need to get dry, so these have to come off.”

  She nodded and he was glad he couldn’t see her face. He didn’t want her embarrassed or scared. Before the moment got too tense, he slipped his hand beneath the towel. Her skin was warm, damp and so damn soft. He took a breath and didn’t linger as he unclasped the back hook.

  “Look at you, Mr. Quickie Fingers,” Ashley said on a shaky chuckle. “I’d have to say you’ve done the one-handed trick a few times in your day.”

  “Just a few,” Mel agreed. He helped as she slipped the material off and it dropped to the tile floor. Together they rearranged the towel under her arms and she eased her legs over the edge and gingerly stood up. Mel steadied her and before he thought too much about it, he slipped his hands beneath the towel. His fingers brushed the soft skin of her hips when he hooked his thumbs into her underwear and slid them down her long legs, making the movement quick and as painless for both of them as he could. The towel covered the important parts, thank God.

  “Okay, let’s get you into some dry clothes and I can start the de-splintering. Then you can tell me how the hell you ended up over the fucking railing on a night like tonight.” But he didn’t move. She stood before him in his towel and there was something extremely powerful in the sight, something strong enough to make him pull her against him and hold her tight. She moved into him, tucked her head into his neck as his hands skimmed along her back.

  God, what the hell was happening here? He held her close, breathed her in, as she nestled against him. His heart thumped so hard he heard it in his head. She made a little noise in her throat that nearly destroyed him. A small sound of need that cut straight to his gut. She needed him.

  Mel pulled back and cleared his throat. He had work to do. He had to find her some dry clothes. Even if she did look damn good wearing only his towel. “I’ll be right back.” He grabbed the short stool tucked under the end of the long counter and sat Ashley on it. “Stay here a sec and let me find you something to wear.”

  She nodded, but didn’t look in his direction. Sometimes he could tell when she was trying to see him. Her gaze stayed straight and she moved her head, trying to see him peripherally. Now, she just seemed tired. As if simply trying to see took energy she didn’t have.

  Mel quickly dried off, tossed his towel over the rack and made it to his closet. He threw on sweat pants and a T-shirt, grabbed a robe on his way out, turned on the gas fireplace in his bedroom and went back to her.

  He stopped short when he came back into the bathroom. Roamer had situated himself between Ashley’s legs and had his head on her thigh. Ashley’s soft voice cooed and soothed the dog. Ashley may have saved Roamer in the beginning, but there was no doubt that he’d returned the favor. If he hadn’t gotten Mel’s attention, Ashley’s body wouldn’t have been found until morning. She would’ve been smashed against the rocks at the bottom.

  That devastating thought made the hair on his arms stand up straight.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked as he draped the thick robe over Ashley’s shoulders. He put her arms through the holes and caught her slight wince.

  “I’m better,” she told him. “We should dry Roamer. He’s still wet.”

  “He’s next on my list. First, stand up for me. Let’s lose the towel.”

  He helped her up and pulled the robe around her as Roamer went back to his spot in the corner. The towel dropped. Mel’s mouth watered as he tightened the belt around her slim waist. They stood facing each other and he had the ridiculous urge to kiss her. Not just a friendly kiss. Not the neighborly peck on the cheek they had perfected. He wanted a real kiss with his tongue in her mouth and his hands on her body. Then he wanted to sink inside of her and make her forget about the whole experience.

  “Sit back down,” he said, clearing the huskiness from his voice. “I know there’s a blow dryer in here somewhere. I can get you and Roamer dry in a few minutes.” Needing space, he searched the drawers, found the drier and plugged it in.

  It wouldn’t be fair or right for him to seduce her tonight. He’d nearly lost her—the one person who treated him like a regular guy, like he was worth befriending simply because of who he was on the inside. He wanted to hold her. To make sure she knew he didn’t take her or her friendship for granted.

  It had been over seven months since he’d seen any action. Seven months since he’d had a hard-on worth being uncomfortable over. His dick stirred to life at the prospect of a long, hot night in bed with Ashley.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The blow dryer came to life and a shiver spread through Ashley as Mel ran his hands through her hair and warm air heated her head.

  “Are you still cold?” he asked.

  She shook her head, her eyes closed. “No, it just feels good. Your hands and the heat.” She reveled in the sensations, in the slight tug on her scalp. Not so long ago, she’d been sure she’d never be warm again. Hell, she didn’t think she’d live through the night. Considering she should’ve been a dead woman, this was a nice turn of events. Mel’s fingers combed through her hair again and another shiver ran through her.

  “Cut that out,” Mel said. “You scare me when you do that.”

  “I can’t help it.” She laughed. She couldn’t believe she was laughing. Dead people didn’t laugh. That thought sobered her pretty damn fast. She focused on his hands, his palm against her head and the heat from the dryer. Her blood raced through her veins and tingles shimmied down her spine.

  “You want to tell me what happened?” he asked.

  Ashley described the events, from hearing the door slam, to realizing Roamer wasn’t in the house, to going out after him. “I don’t know how or why, but the railing gave way. I jerked back, but slipped and ended up tumbling over with it.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “I thought that was it, you know? I thought the whole thing was going down, but I held on anyway.” She shivered, the memory fresh in her head.

  The dryer shut off and Mel crouched in front of her, his hands on her thighs. “How long were you holding on before I got there?” His voice sounded soft and a little husky. Kind of sexy.

  Shrugging, she shook her head. “I don’t know. It felt like hours.” Tears stung her eyes, but she fought them back. “It was probably more like five or ten minutes. Enough to freeze my arms.” God, they still ached. And her hands stung like a bitch.

  Mel pulled her close. He’d trapped her arms in the hug, which was just as well, because she didn’t have the strength to hug him back. Instead, she took a deep breath with her head tucked into his neck. He smelled so good and the short stubble on his cheek rasped against her temple. She always forgot he shaved when he worked.


  Too quickly, he pulled away. “Let me see your hands,” he said. His warm, strong fingers opened her hand. “Shit. This might take a few minutes. No wonder you hurt.” He reached for something on the counter—tweezers—and painstakingly removed all the splinters from her fingers and palms. He coated the nastier scrapes with antibiotic ointment and bandaged her hands.

  “C’mon,” he whispered. Before she had a second to answer, he lifted her and carried her out of the bathroom. Next, he laid her on a bed. His bed. In his room. She knew that because the tub had been in her dream bathroom. The one in his bedroom.

  “What are you doing? I should go home.” But he was covering her with warm blankets.

  “Fuck that. You’re staying here.” The blankets tightened around her as he tucked her in. Flannel. God, they were so warm.

  She chuckled. She hadn’t seen the caveman side to him before. That was sexy too. “Is that the new twenty-first century way of inviting someone over? ‘Fuck that, you’re staying here.’ I might have to try it some time.” A few awkward seconds passed and she sensed he didn’t find her funny. She lost the smile.

  He sat next to her and Ashley imagined the serious expression on his face. “No,” he said. His warm palm stroked her jaw as his thumb grazed her cheek. His voice had that husky quality again and her insides started a slow melt. “It’s my way of making sure you’re okay the rest of tonight. I want you close to me.”

  Ashley’s breath hitched. The contact, the words and the way he said them were electric. Maybe she was too wigged out from tonight. Maybe all of it was in her head, but it didn’t change the way her body felt. A definite hunger slowly built from her center and fanned out to her fingers and toes. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. She sat there frozen, waiting for more of his touch, more of his heat.