A draft groans across the ceiling boards. Snow pellets tick the skylight.
“No,” I say. “Unless you like hypothermia.”
She gives a tiny shiver even though she’s closer to the stove than I am. “And you just have the one bedroom.”
“Yes.”
She taps her pen against her notes. “So that means?—”
“You take the bed,” I interrupt.
Her head snaps up. “What? No. Absolutely not. It’s your house. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“The couch folds down,” I tell her. “Sort of. Mostly. It’ll do for me.”
“But you’re enormous,” she says, then freezes, horrified. “I mean—not enormous. Just tall. Large. Wide.” Her face heats, pink spreading from her cheeks to her ears. “Not wide-wide. Just—structurally?—”
“Solid?” I offer.
She gives a small, strangled noise. “I’m going to stop talking now.”
I huff a laugh and shake my head. “Take the bed, Natalie.”
“I can’t kick you out of your own room.”
“You’re not kicking me out. I’m offering.” I gesture with one hand. “And you’ll sleep better. You need to be functional to keep the whole…operation running.”
She bites her lip, and something lurches in my chest at the sight.
“That’s very considerate,” she says softly.
I shrug like it’s nothing. It’s not nothing.
Outside, lightning flashes—a rare winter crackle that turns the whole cabin pale for a heartbeat. The thunder follows low and heavy, rolling through the mountainside. The lights don’t return. The silence folds back around us.
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Okay,” she says finally. “I’ll take the bed. But only if you let me change the sheets tomorrow so I don’t feel guilty the entire time.”
I raise a brow. “You guilt-clean?”
“Professionally.”
That tracks.
I stand to check the stove, more to give myself a minute than because it needs tending. The heat blasts my face as I adjust thedamper. Behind me, she moves toward the kitchen, her boots scuffing softly against the floor.
“I’ll make tea,” she calls. “If the kettle still has hot water.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Does tea help you not panic when the power goes out?”
Her shoulders stiffen. “I’m not panicking.”
“You jumped a foot when the thunder hit.”
Her head swivels around, eyes narrowed in warning. “I was startled. Totally different.”
“Right.”
She points a finger at me. “Don’t tease me. I’m trying to stay composed.”
