He lunges for me and slips trying to grab me, but instead of letting me go to keep himself from falling, he pulls me into him and twists his body so I fall on him as he goes down on his back. His body is hard, and his arms are like steel bands around me to keep me from dropping onto the icy ground.
One hand is on the back of my head, holding me protectively to him, and I’m so exhausted and relieved that I let him.
He can do whatever he wants if he’ll just let me go inside to warm up.
“Mason!” He yells over my head, his deep voice is calm but I can hear the urgency in it. “Mason, I need help.” He sits up and pulls me upright onto his lap and starts looking at the bloody cut on my head, “Are you okay? How did this happen?”
My teeth are still chattering, and my lips are numb, but I stutter out, “M-My car slid off the r-road and I slipped and f-fell. P-Please, just let me w-warm up before you m-m-make me l-leave.” My head feels like it weighs fifty pounds, and I lean against his chest and let my eyes slide closed. Just for a minute.
“Mason!” His loud voice cuts through the fuzzy darkness that’s pushing in around the edges of my mind, and it makes me jump. “You’re alright, frostbite.” He mumbles and pulls my hood around my head to cover my face from the blowing sleet. “I’ve got ya.”
Everything in me relaxes. His voice is soft and soothing, and I just know he is going to make sure everything is okay.
Pulling my head away, I look up into hazel eyes, wanting to see if he is just as gorgeous as yesterday. “Y-you are.” I breathe and smile as I look over his face.
His eyebrows wrinkle together in confusion. “What?”
In my delirium, a chuckle bubbles from my chest. “You are the p-prettiest man I’ve ever s-seen, and just as strong as you l-look.”
Cocking an eyebrow, either at what I said or the slur in my voice, the edge of his mouth twitches a bit. The sound of a screen door slamming and many feet on a wooden porch behind us startle me and I let my head rest against his chest again. I can’t see anything, but I hear a lot of voices.
“Oh my God, who is that?
“Where’s her car?”
“Did she walk in this?”
“Don’t get on the ice, darlin’, you’ll slip and fall.” Iremember that commanding tone from yesterday. It’s the voice of the other guy from the barn, and he’s right next to us. “Is she okay?” There’s concern in the voice that just yesterday was firm and laced with irritation.
“I don’t know, there’s a lot of blood on her face and she’s talking gibberish.” The big guy says over my head.
My hood is pulled back and the other guy is squatted next to us, his deep blue eyes are inspecting the cut, his eyebrows pulled together over his nose. “We need to get her inside. She looks hypothermic and she might have a concussion. Give her to me.”
The big guy lifts me like I weigh nothing to pass me to the other guy, but when they are both standing, he says, “Give her to me, I’ve still got my spikes on.” I’m juggled back to him and he pulls me close against his chest as they start slowly walking.
My muscles relax in his hold as I realize I’m going to be okay.
Blessed heat envelopes me as we walk through the door, but I can’t stop my teeth from chattering. The deep voice of the big guy over my head softly says, “Marley, honey, get some blankets, please. Sloane, go make one of your cups of hot chocolate, extra sugar.”
“Who’s that?” The voice of a young girl pierces the air.
“Help me out, pumpkin. Will you unbutton her coat while I unbutton mine?” His voice is soft and I can hear the affection that’s directed toward her.
“Okay.” I open my eyes to see the little girl who was leading the horse in the barn yesterday as he pushes my hood off my head. He sits on the hearth of a gigantic fireplace with me still on his legs so my back is to the fire as he leans back to take his coat off. I’m shaking so bad I can’t control my hands and the little girl smiles at me, “My dad will make sure you’re okay.”
She’s so confident, and even in my hypothermic state, I’m envious of her trust and the obvious love and closeness between them. She gets the front of my coat open, and her dad pulls it off my shoulders and discards it to the floor.
When he unbuttons his flannel shirt, under normal circumstances, I might get a little worried, but I don’t have the energy to care. He pulls me against the thermal shirt on his hard chest after he opens the thermal he just unbuttoned. I practically melt into him, he’s so warm.
“Put your hands under my arms.” His gruff voice vibrates in his chest against my ear and I do as I’m told. He presses his hard biceps over my hands glued to his ribs at his sides.
With the fireplace at my back and his body heat on my front, the shaking turns into minor tremors after a short while. His large hands keep rubbing up and down my back in big sweeps to generate heat, and I’m getting so sleepy.
A woman with coal-black hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun squats next to us with a mug. She has the prettiest light green eyes, and her smile is just as warm as the chest against my cheek. “You think you can hold a mug? It’s warm and the cocoa will help warm you on the inside.”
Shifting myself on his lap, I hold my hands out and she carefully hands it off, making sure I can hold it before she lets go. A smaller woman with long blond hair in a French braid steps up behind the woman with black hair, she’s holding some blankets against her chest.
“You ready for these yet?” Her voice is soft and timid, and she’s looking at the cut on my head with concern.
