“Oh no, don’t ruin your clothes for me,” she says while attempting to push my hand away.
“They’re old.”
“Not that old. I’ll be fine tonight.”
What about in the morning? The sooner I know she’s—covered—the easier it will be for me. I don’t voice my thoughts, just crouch and reach for the cuff. “You need these far more than I do, Deca.”
“Aw, that’s the first time you’ve used my name.”
I saw through the fleece with the dull scissors then look at her and arch my eyebrow. “Ready? I’ll help you stand while you pull these up.”
“Okay. Thank you for everything you’ve done, Dane. I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me if you and your cabin hadn’t been here.”
I have a fairly good idea. I should probably tell her, the possibility of actually freezing to death or coming across a wild animal might scare her enough she doesn’t do something this foolish again. And not every rescuer would have the best interests of a naked goddess in mind. “I’m glad you found me.”
“Found you? Oh, yes, I’m glad, too. And I’m ready.”
Ready? Shit, I can’t focus when I’m around her, at least not on anything other than her.
She reaches for the waist of the sweats. “I think if you can hold me steady, I’ll be able to pull these up.”
I nod and close my eyes as my hands settle at her waist. The process goes smoothly and within a couple minutes I’m tucking her in my bed. “I won’t be far in case you need anything.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she says as she yawns. “Thank you.”
Her eyes close and her breathing deepens. Wish I could fall asleep so quickly. I watch her for far too long before gathering the dirty mugs and plates and heading toward the kitchen.
I check on her after I’ve washed the dishes. Telling myself she’s fine, that she’ll call for me if she needs anything, I return to the office.
An hour later I’ve done nothing but stare out the window, wondering about my surprise guest. I need to sleep. The futon will do for me tonight. Except her cloak is there, the melting ice has made the cushion wet. Planning to flip it, I lift the cushion and discover the water has seeped through to the other side.
Just as well, sleeping on the floor is more comfortable than that poorly cushioned fake bed. To prevent more damage I take Deca’s cloak to hang in the guest bathroom to dry. She’ll need it when she leaves.
A sharp denial fills me. What the hell? This is my retreat. Where I come to think, plan, to be alone. I seldom invite anyone to join me and when I have, I’m anxious and uncomfortable until they leave. Here is where I treasure solitude. I don’t want or need anyone here.
Deca’s presence feels different. I realize I’ve been waiting for the anxiety to set in, the need to see her gone. Waiting for something that hasn’t happened. In fact, the idea of her leaving creates a heavy weight in my chest, like lead forming around my heart.
As an experiment I think about her living here, belonging here with me. Warmth flows through my body. Wanting and desire.
No. That’s a fantasy I refuse to entertain.
Until I enter the bedroom to check on her. She’s turned slightly on to one side facing the door, her foot still elevated under the covers on the extra pillows. She appears to be deeply asleep. A large expanse of the king sized bed stretches behind her.
Why shouldn’t I sleep in my own bed? She’s under the comforter, I’ll grab a blanket and sleep on top of the covers. That way I’ll be close in case she needs anything. Rationalization like this is dangerous. Right now I don’t care.
Grabbing flannel sleep pants and a tee, I change in the master bath then go for the last of my spare blankets. The hallway floor is damn cold. I make a mental note to make sure to find thick socks for Deca in the morning. I only contemplate my decision another few seconds before carefully lowering myself onto the bed and wrapping the blanket around me.
Knowing I should sleep with my back to her, I release all the ‘shoulds’ in my brain and roll to my side. Starlight sparkles through the window onto her golden hair. I need to touch it, feel the silken strands. Instead, I curl my hand under the pillow andclose my eyes, hoping by morning these uncomfortable feelings will either disappear or at least be under control.
I’m just not sure how much control I’ll be able to maintain around this woman.
I’m not sure I want to.
four
December
This pillow is really hard. And weirdly lumpy. And what’s with the weight wrapped around my shoulders? Honestly, when I’m overly tired sometimes when I wake up it takes a few minutes to reorient myself into the real world. I keep my eyes closed and remain still, waiting for my mind to clear.
