“What?”
“Are you afraid that I’ll think you... did stuff to me while I was fever gal?”
“Yep. In one. And then you’ll yell at me that I should have stopped it, that I should have known better, that I let it all go wrong, and then—poof. Dust Buster-one, Brax-zero.” He mimed an explosion of dust from the heart out.
“What if I loan you some of my underwear?”
“In my opinion, the only man who can properly pull off ladies’ lingerie is Tim Curry.”
“Damn. My fever is worse. I can’t understand what you’re saying now.” She rubbed her head, then tried squeezing it. “No good. Won’t shrink. Stupid, puffy brain.”
“I’ll translate. No thanks, you keep your pretties.”
“Shirts off? I’m all nice and toasty?”
Okay. All right. Can’t rightly get into too much trouble with my shirt off. Or hers.“Sign the paper. Give me the pen, and be quick.” He yanked his shirt over his head, and she squealed.
Maybe he expected it to be an unexpected explosion of passion.
It was more like being humped by an overeager puppy. She slid her chest to him with a thousand thank yous and then spun on her back, putting her spine against his sternum with another warble of delight. “You feel so good! Are you feeling better? Am I making you feel good?”
“I feel better,” he admitted tersely, trying not to put fevered words into a sexual context. No good. His imagination had a little tropical vacation while his body was stuck in Siberia.
Topless Penny, writhing, wrapping around him, moaning in his ear, breathlessly panting as she wrapped her hot body around his, hearing imaginary breathless moans that related to sex, not shivering, “Is it good for you, Baby? Am I making you feel good?”
Of course, she sounded nothing like the siren in his head, but his imagination took over his mouth, letting him reply in a decidedly passionate tone of voice. “Ohhh, yes. So good.” Bless her fevered brain, she didn’t seem to mind or notice. He wasn’ttryingto sound like that. Not trying to sound like he was about to come all over himself, trapped in these too-tight jeans, skin burning in that painful way as feeling returned to frozen flesh. Actually—“Ow.”
“‘S wrong?” She rolled back to face him, head directly over his. When had they ended up lying down, not sitting?
Wait, how did I end up flat on my back? More importantly—pain.“Arggh, fuck, frostbite’s a bitch. You can’t feel it until you’re out of it, you know. Least I don’t have blackened bits. I hope.” It occurred to him he hadn’t checked the contents of his trousers. He wouldn’t have unzipped for anything short of, well, short of
Penny, and now he wasn’t unzipping for that, either. “I’m having a very effed up day. An’ so are you, sugar.”
“What do you do for frostbite? I don’t think they covered that in high school health.”
“I don’t know. I never even got a chance to have a high school health class. Or go to high school, come to think of it. I worked in the ports. French Cajun father, Greek mother. ‘Poor child of immigrants’ me. But strong and good-looking. New Orleans used to be quite the port, quite the dramatic destination, and I got to see it all.”
“That sounds exciting.”
“New Orleans is an exciting place, all right. Full of magic, that’s for sure.”
“So, do you know what to do about the witch upstairs and the spell?”
“I don’t even know what the spell is!” Brax huffed. “All we know from Mr. Mouse was that she wasn’t happy with theweather and she was trying to mess with it. Maybe make it not-too-hot, and not-too-cold.”
“And instead she made it majorly too much of both, freezer-burned you and broiled me?” Penny asked, propping herself up on her elbow, which happened to be in the vicinity of Brax’s forehead.
Brax jabbed her pointedly in the ribs, mouth muffled and unwilling to open, lest he be accused of trying to suck on her nipples—which he was trying very, very hardnotto do. She looked down and gasped. Brax’s face was nestled between her breasts, and he looked at her with tortured eyes, as if to say, “How much temptation do you expect me to resist in one day?”
“Sorry,” she mouthed, sitting up. As soon as she removed her warmth from him, he shivered again, and she felt the raging burn set back in. “I’m not better yet. Also, my throat is killing me.Killingme.”
“Well, stop talking,” Brax ordered sensibly.
“No! Everything is very, very clear when I’m sick, when I’m not delirious.” A break from the blistering temperature had cleared her head enough to put some things together. “I think the witch upstairs wanted to make a spell to combine hot and cold, but instead, she goofed, and separated them into extremes.”
Penny poked her finger at his chest, tapping his sternum, then leaving her hand splayed there, eyes closed in bliss from the cold.
“Can’t argue with you there,” Brax almost moaned aloud as her hand began to stroke across his chest. Blissful warmth. Sweet, soft touch.
