“Generator stop?” I grunt.
“Nope. Works well, actually.”
I run a hand through my long hair, eyeing her carefully. “Heard a commotion coming from the cabin, too.”
“With good reason. Pipes failed. It was quite … spectacular.” She chooses the last word with understated care.
Nope,she’sspectacular. Dark eyes, flushed cheeks, trembling lip. Fire won’t warm her fast enough. Not compared to me.
“Hot shower? Dry clothes?”
“Mop?”
I scrunch my forehead.
She gestures towards the ground. “I’m dripping everywhere.”
God, help me. I grind out between clenched teeth. “Handled. No worries.”
She freezes, eyes betraying the internal struggle. “But I can’t impose like this. Mess up your house, ask for a bailout, upset your peace.”
I shake my head, lie, “No bother.”
“I should figure this out for myself. I need to figure this out for myself. It’s why I’m here in the first place. But honestly … between me and you, I don’t know what to do.”
Her voice cracks, something raw under the smile.
Maybe that’s what I’m hearing in her—grief trying to sound brave. Still, it could get her killed out here.
My eyes narrow. “If you don’t know what to do, you shouldn’t be out here.”
“Probably not,” she agrees, eyes dropping.
“Can’t have you standing here getting pneumonia.”
“Nope,” she says, eyes rising to mine. God, she’s stunning. High cheekbones, sculpted face, thick fucking curves my hands ache to touch.
Against my better judgment, I offer a hand, murmur, “Denver.”
She freezes, stares awkwardly at my hand, then takes it. Her palm is petal-soft—dainty fingers, warm and alive. Electricity streaks across my skin. Breath catches, throat tight. Her eyes flicker away, pulse jumping before she meets my gaze again.
“Dahlia.” The edges of her mouth turn up. “But most people call me Dolly.”
“Dahlia, then.”
She cocks her head, brow lifting. Her light brown skin is flawless, achingly so. Like warm silk that I long to touch with my lips and my tongue. We’re still shaking hands. Won’t let go til she does, the only neighborly thing to do, only she doesn’t.
“Why not Dolly?”
“Because I’m not most people.”
“Fair enough.” She giggles, brings her other hand up to cover mine, too. “Sorry, I was so cold out there, and you’re so … warm.”
I shift my weight, try to comprehend her words, or the mischievous look that sparks in her eyes.
“All of me’s like that.” I want to slap my hand over my mouth. What the fuck am I saying? But I’m too entranced by her saucy grin and the deliciousness of her touch to let go.
Her mouth quirks. “Lucky you.”
