I’d tried everything but the last one. If he didn’t improve immediately, this already odd situation was going to get truly weird.
Shit.
CHAPTER 5
COOPER
Unfortunately, nothing improved.
Twenty minutes later, the wind picked up, violently blowing snow across the lawn and the surface of the lake. The temperature dropped to single digits outside, and the local weather experts indicated that the storm had just begun.
And Silas was still shivering, covered in a heavy blanket by a raging fire.
“Listen, we need to stabilize your body temperature and warm your core.”
“How?” Silas slouched against the sectional, his eyes drooping. Poor guy looked exhausted.
I bit the inside of my cheek and sighed. “Body heat. It might sound unorthodox, but they say it works. We have to try it.”
“Uh…’kay.”
That was it?
All righty, then.I yanked my sweater off, stripped to my boxer briefs, and lay on the mattress in a flurry of movement while a dumbfounded Silas squinted incredulously.
“C’mon,” I urged, patting the empty space beside me.
“Oh. You want to c-cuddle.”
“No, I don’twantto cuddle,” I grumbled. “But we have to do something. C’mere. Lay next to me. We can put a towel between us for the sake of…”
“Avoiding a sword fight?” he offered.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah…that. Take your shirt off.”
He needed a little help dragging the snug long-john top over his beefy pecs. “What about the bottoms?”
“Those too. The more skin, the better.”
Silas took care of the bottoms on his own and rolled onto his back next to me. Completely naked. “Now what?”
“Lie on your side. No…other side.”
“Can’t.”
Oh, boy.I draped a towel between our hips like a terrycloth curtain and did my best to ignore how very freaking surreal this was as I scooted close enough to press our chests together.
“Try to relax.” I might as well have been talking to myself.
This was…insane. I was a big man, and years of outdoor work had honed my body into decent shape, but Silas was bigger. He was more muscular, harder, and thicker. I doubted he had any fat on his bones. And it was impossible not to notice that he was anyone’s definition of good-looking—square jaw, chiseled with light scruff, high cheekbones, long lashes, brilliant blue eyes, and plush lips.
But he wasn’t perfect. His features were marred with small scars—a moon-shaped one under his left brow and a nasty jagged one that ran along the side of his face by his ear. Trophies from old battles.
“What should I do with my arms?” Silas grunted.
“Whatever you want. Pretend I’m like a body pillow. This isn’t about intimacy…obviously, it’s about getting warm.”
He stiffened slightly. “I don’t know if I?—”
