I caught her instantly, my hand closing around her upper arm. Electricity shot up my arm, powerful enough to drag a quick breath from my lungs. Her lips parted on a tiny inhale, confirmation she’d felt the jolt too.
I forced myself to let her go before I forgot every line I wasn’t supposed to cross. “I don’t think she did, but I know how to light the fireplace.”
Rowan looked like she wanted to protest. She even opened her mouth, the hand not holding the towel in a death grip lifting slightly, but thunder rolled again and shook the cottage.
She flinched and whispered, “Okay.”
I stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind me as another blast of wind made the windows tremble. “I’ll keep the fire going. Check the place. Make sure you’re warm and safe.”
“A fire sounds great.” She turned toward the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a second.”
I forced myself to look away from her. I couldn’t think about that towel dropping to the floor so she could put something on. My gaze snagged on the tiny couch pushed against the wall beneath the window. It was barely big enough for someone half my size. My knees would hang over the edge by a mile, but I was determined to stay the night. Convincing my mate of that without scaring her off meant proving my worth first.
I crossed the room to crouch in front of the hearth and coaxed a spark into flame, feeding it carefully until warmth and light flickered across the room.
When Rowan padded out of the bedroom, she was dressed in layers. Her pretty eyes filled with relief when she glanced at the fire. “It’s a good thing you stopped by. I probably would’ve burned the place down if I tried doing that myself.”
The thought of anything bad happening to her filled me with dread. “I’ll give you my number. Whenever you need a fire lit, I’m your man.”
The alternative meaning of my words didn’t hit me until Rowan giggled. I just shrugged because that was sure as fuck true, too. My little human mate didn’t know she’d only ever feel desire with me yet, but that didn’t make it any less true.
Rowan settled on the rug near the fire, tucking her legs beneath her as the flames cast a warm glow over her skin. I forced myself to sit a safe distance away on the couch to help me resist the temptation she presented.
For a minute, neither of us spoke. Then she cleared her throat softly. “Thank you for coming by.”
I’d done it for me more than her, but I couldn’t explain that yet. “Nobody should be alone in a storm like this.”
“Yeah.” Her fingers toyed with the hem of her sleeve. “Today was a lot. Everything feels strange. Like my whole life tilted sideways.”
I wanted to touch her, but I kept my hands locked on my knees. “I’m sure. Lots of big changes.”
“It doesn’t feel real.” She looked into the fire, her thick lashes catching the light. “I didn’t really know my grandmother, but suddenly, I’m surrounded by memories I never had a chance to make.”
I leaned forward a little. “You’re handling it better than most would.”
“I don’t know about that.” She gave me a shy smile that set my pulse thundering. “What about you? What brought you to Timber Ridge?”
I picked the answer that didn’t risk exposing the world she wasn’t ready to know yet. “Chicago wasn’t right for me anymore.”
Her head tilted. “You made the change from the big city to here?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed before explaining how I followed Peppa here from the restaurant where we’d first worked together.
“That makes sense,” she murmured. “I’m from New York, so big city life is all I know.”
“It was the same for me when I got to Timber Ridge, yet I adjusted quicker than I expected.” But I’d happily follow Rowan to New York if that was where she wanted to live.
Another crash of thunder shook the cottage. Rowan startled again, scooting instinctively closer to the fire. My bear shoved hard at my ribs, wanting to wrap around her to keep her warm and safe. I exhaled slowly through my nose and kept him on a tight leash.
There was still no power and no sign it was coming back anytime soon, giving me the perfect excuse to suggest, “If it’s okay, I’ll stay on the couch tonight. Storm’s not letting up.”
Her brows arched. “I don’t think you’ll fit.”
“I’ve slept in worse spots.” As a polar bear wedged between tree roots in an ice storm, for one.
She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Just for the night.”
“Of course,” I agreed even though my bear snarled that it wasn’t nearly enough time with her.
