“Come on,” I said, maybe a little too gruffly. “Let’s drop this off and go.”
I led her to the bunkhouse, hyperaware of the eyes following us. Inside, I found Amos’s bunk and dropped the wrench on his mattress. Quick. Simple. Done.
When we walked back outside, one of the younger guys, Pete, was leaning against a post, openly staring at Cassidy.
“Hey, Hall,” he called out, a smirk on his face. “Who’s your friend?”
I put my hand on the small of Cassidy’s back and steered her toward the truck.
“Nobody you need to worry about,” I growled in response.
As we drove away, the unsettling realization hit me.
I was in too deep. Somewhere in the past two days, I’d gotten used to having her in my life. And I didn’t want it to end.
Chapter 9
Cassidy
One night later.
The storm rolled in after dark.
Thunder cracked overhead and rain lashed against the windows. The power flickered once, twice, then went out completely.
“Shit,” Hall muttered.
He’d been reading his book quietly, while I’d been staring out the window daydreaming. But now his cabin was pitch black as the storm whipped itself up into a fever pitch.
I heard him moving in the darkness, then candlelight filled the living room, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
“Does this happen often?” I hugged myself, suddenly aware of how isolated we were up here. No neighbors. No streetlights. Just the two of us and the storm.
“Often enough.” He knelt by the fireplace, coaxing the embers back to life. “Power lines are old. Storm knocks them out a few times a year.”
The rain sounded almost violent outside, and I was grateful for this warm, cozy place to hide out from the elements. His cabin might have been primitive, but it was insulated well. It held heat way better than my drafty farmhouse. But it was still cold, and the sudden spring storm had dropped the temperature rapidly.
I shivered. Karina’s sweater suddenly felt too thin.
“You’re chilly. Come here.” Now that he had the fire going again, Hall settled on the couch, a thick blanket spread across his lap. He lifted one corner, aninvitation.
The first he’d ever given me.
I didn’t hesitate at all. I crossed the room and slid in beside him, letting him tuck the blanket around us both.
He was sowarm. Like a furnace. I found myself leaning into him without meaning to, my head coming to rest against his shoulder.
For some reason I felt like I’d known this man my entire life. I knew him better than almost anyone, other than my family. And that was without him sharing much about himself at all.
But Hall communicated so much without ever giving voice to it.
His words were in every silent action. The way he took care of things, took care ofme.
His love language was composed of a thousand small acts, each one saying I like you, Cassidy. I like you a lot.
We sat in silence for a while before I gave words to the thoughts rattling in my head.
“I don’t know what I would have done without you,” I whispered. The firelight flickered across his face, highlighting the wild burliness of his beard and the fullness of his lips. “If you hadn’t seen the fire and come for me, I don’t know what would have happened.”
